^to'iiie PorU'ajl "by Six Jos.raa- Bfi-p-' .olS-s . MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE RIGHT HONORABLE RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERI- DAN. By Thomas Moore. Two volumes in one. 12mo., cloth, g-old and black, with steel portrait. $1.50. SKETCHES OF THE IRISH BAR. By the Right Honorable Richard Lalor Shiel, M. P., with Memoir and Notes by R. Shelton, Mack- enzie, D. C. L. 13mo., cloth, gold and black, with steel portrait. $1.50. THE LIFE OF THE RIGHT HONORABLE JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN, late Master of the Rolls in Ireland. By his son, William Henry Curran, with additions and notes by R. Shelton Mackenzie, D. C. L. 12mo., cloth, gold and black, with steel portrait. $1.50. PERSONAL SKETCHES OF HIS OWN TIMES. By Sir Jonah Barrington, Judge of the High Court of Admirality in Ireland, etc., etc. 12mo., cloth, gold and black, with illustra- tions by Darley. $1.50. '98 and '48. THE MODERN REVOLUTION- ARY HISTORY AND LITERATURE OF IRE- LAND. By John Savage. Fourth Edition, with an Appendex and Index. 12mo., cloth, gold and black. $1..50. BITS OF BLARNEY. Edited by R. Shelton Mackenzie, D. C. L., Editor of Shiel's Sketches of the Irish Bar, etc. 12mo., cloth, gold and black. $1.50. MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE RMT HONORABLE RICHARD BRIMEY SHERIMI — BY— THOMAS MOORE. T"WO "VOLTJlNvdlES IlSr 03^E!. CHICAGO: Belford, Clarke & Co. ST. LOUIS: Belford & Clarke Publishing Co. mdccclxxxii. COPYRIGHTED. BELFORD, CLARKE & CO., 1880. 48 65 5 5 AUG 2 8 1942 ri;INT2D AND liOUND jONOHUE & H[!:NNEr>ERKY, CHICAGO. ^ f \S TO GEORGE B II YA N, Esq., THIS WORK IS INSCRIBKi). Br HLS SLVCERE ASD AFFECTIOXATE FRIEXD. THOMAS MOORii. PEEFACE. The first four Chapters of this work were written near- ly seven years ago. My task was then suspended during a long absence from England ; and it was only in the course of the last year that I applied myself seriously to the completion of it. To my friend, Mr. Charles Sheridan, whose talents and character reflect honor upon a name, already so distin- guished, I am indebted for the chief part of the materials upon which the following Memoirs of his father are founded. I have to thank him, not only for this mark of confidence, but for the delicacy with which, though so deeply interested in the subject of my task, he has re- frained from all interference with the execution of it; — neither he, nor any other person, beyond the Printing- office, having ever read a single sentence of the work. I mention this, in order that the responsibility of any erroneous views or indiscreet disclosures, with Avhich I shall be thought chargeable in the course of these pages, may not be extended to others, but rest solely with my- self. (5) VI PREFACE. The details of Mr. Sheridan's early life were obliging- ly communicated to me by his younger sister, Mrs. Le- fanu, to whom, and to her highly gifted daughter, I offer my best thanks for the assistance which they have afford- ed me. The obligations, of a similar nature, which I owe to the kindness of Mr "William Linley, Doctor Bain, S[r Burgess, and others, are acknowledged, with due grati- tude, in my remarks on their. respective communications CONTENTS TO VOL. I. CHAPTER I. Birth and Education of Mr. Sheridan. — His First Attempts in Litera- ture 9 CHAPTER II. Duels with Mr. Mathews. — Marriage with Miss Linley. . • . 45 CHAPTER III. Domestic Circumstances. — Fragments of Essays found among his Papers. — Comedy of '•' The Rivals.'' — Answer to '' Taxation no Tyranny." — Farce of '' St. Patrick's Day." 79 CHAPTER IV. The Duenna. — Purchase of Drury-Lane Theatre. — The Trip to Scarbo- rough. — Poetical Correspondence with Mrs. Sheridan. . . . 105 CHAPTER V. The School for Scandal ., . 139 CHxiPTER YI. Further Pui-chase of Theatrical Property. — Monody to the Memory of Gar- rick. — Essay on Metre. — The Critic. — Essay on Absentees. — Political Connections. — '• The Englishman." — Elected for Stafford. . . 173 CHAPTER VII. Unfinished Plays and Poems 199 CHAPTER VIII. His First Speeches in Parliament. — Rockingham Administration. — Coali- tion. — India Bill.— -Re-election for Stafford 225 (7) nil CONTENTS. CHAPTER IX. The Prince of Wales. — Financial Measures. — Mr. Pitt's East India Bill. — Irish Commercial Propositions. — Plan of the Duke of Richmond. — Sinking Fund .260 CHAPTER X. Charges against Mr. Hastings. — Commercial Treaty with France. — Debts of The Prince of Wales .283 MEMOIES OF THE LIFE OF THE RT. HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. CHAPTER I, BIRTH AXD EDUCATION OF MR. SHERIDAN. — HIS FIRST ATTEMPTS IN LITERATURE. Richard Brinsley"^ Sheridan was born in the month of Sep tember, 1751, at No. 12, Dorset Street, Dublin, and baptized in St. Mary's Church, as appears by the register of the parish, on the fourth of the following month. His grandfather, Dr. Sheri- dan, and his father, Mr. Thomas Sheridan, have attained a cele- brity, independent of that which he has conferred on them, by the friendship and correspondence with which the former was honored by Swift, and the competition and even rivalry which the latter so long maintained with Garrick. His mother, too, was a woman of considerable talents, and aftbrds one of the few instances that have occurred, of a female mdebted for a husband to her literature ; as it was a pamphlet she wrote concerning the Dublin theatre that first attracted to her the notice of Mr. Thomas Sheridan. Her affecting novel, Sidney Biddulph, could boast among its warm panegyrists Mr. Fox and Lord North ; and in the Tale of Nourjahad she has employed the graces of Eastern fiction to inculcate a grave and important moral, — put- ting on a fairy disguise, like her own Mandane, to deceive her * He was c'l\ islened also by the name of Bailer, after the Earl of Lanesborough. 1* C9> 10 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE readers into a taste for happiness and virtue. Besides her two pLays, The Discovery and Tiie Dupe, — the former of which Gar- rick pronounced to be " one of the best comeclies he ever read," — she wrote a' comedy also, called The Trip to Bath, which was never either acted or published, but which has been supposed by Bome of those sagacious persons, who love to look for flaws in the titles of fame, to have passed, with her other papers, into the possession of her son, and, after a transforming sleep, like that of the chrysalis, in his hands, to have taken wing at length in the brilliant form of The Rivals. The literary labors of her husband were less fanciful, but not, perhaps, less useful, and are chiefly upon subjects connected with education, to the study and profes- sion of which he devoted the latter part of his life. Such dignity, Indeed, did his favorite pursuit assume in his own eyes, that he is represented (on the authority, however, of one who was himself a schoolmaster) to have declared, that " he would rather see his two sons at the head of respectable academies, than one of them prime mmister of England, and the other at the head of affairs in Ireland." At the age of seven years, Richard Brinsley Sheridan was, with his elder brother, Charles Francis, placed under the tuition of Mr. Samuel Whyte, of Grafton Street, Dublin, — an amiable and respectable man, who, for near fifty years after, continued at the head of his profession in that metropolis. To remember our school-days with gratitude and pleasure, is a tribute at once to the zeal and gentleness of our master, which none ever deserved more truly from his pupils than Mr. Whyte, and which the \^Ti- ter of these pages, who owes to that excellent person all the in- structions in English literature he has ever received, is happy to take this opportunity of paying. The young Sheridans, however, were little more than a year under his care — and it may be con- soling to parents who are in the first crisis of impatience, at the sort of hopeless stupidity which some children exhibit, to know, that the dawn of Sheridan's intellect w^as as dull and unpromis- mg as its meridian day was bright ; and that in the year 1759, he whc, in less than thirty years afterwards, held senates enchain- RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRIXSLEY SHERIDAN. 11 ed by his eloquence and audiences fascinated by his wit, was, by common consent both of parent and preceptor, pronounced to hf^ " a most impenetrable dunce." From Mr. Whyte's school the boys were removed to England, where Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan had lately g"one to reside, and in the year 1762 Richard was sent to Harrow — Charles being kept at home as a fitter subject for the instructions of his fjither, who, by another of those calculations of poor human foresight, which the deity, called Eventus by the Romans, takes such wanton plea- sure in falsifying, considered his elder son as destined to be the brighter of the two brother stars. At Harrow, Richard was re- markable only as a very idle, careless, but, at the same time, en- gaging boy, who contrived to win the affection, and even admira- tion of the whole school, both masters and pupils, by the mere charm of his frank and genial manners, and by the occasional gleams of superior intellect, which broke through all the indolence and indifierence of his character. Harrow, at this time, possessed some peculiar advantages, of which a youth like Sheridan might have powerfully availed him- self. At the head of the school was Doctor Rol^ert Sumner, a man of fine talents, but, unfortunately, one of those wdio have passed away without leaving any trace behind, except in the ad- miring recollection of their cotemporaries. His taste is said to have been of a purity almost perfect, combining what are seldom seen together, that critical judgment which is alive to the errors of genius, with the warm sensibility that deeply feels its beau- ties. At the same period, the distinguished scholar. Dr. Parr, who, to the mas^y erudition of a former age, joined all the free and enlightened intelligence of the present, was one of the under masters of the school ; and both he and Dr. Sumner endeavored, by every method they could devise, to awaken in Sheridan a con- sciousness of those powders which, under all the disadvantages of indolence and carelessness, it was manifest to them that he pos- sessed. But remonstrance and encouragement were equally thrown away upon the good-humored but immovable indiffer ence of their pupil ; and though there exist among Mr. Sheridan's 12 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE papers some curious proofs of an industry in stud}^ for v»liich few have ever given him credit, they are probably but the desultory efforts of a later period of his life, to recover the loss of that first precious time, whose susceptibility of instruction, as well as of pleasure, never comes again. One of the most valuable acquisitions he derived from Harrow was that friendship, which lasted throughout his life, with Dr. Parr, — which mutual admiration very early began, and the " idem scntire de re puhlica' of course not a little strengthened. As this learned and estimable man has, within the last few weeks, left a void in the world which will not be easily filled up, I feel that it would be unjust to my readers not to give, in his own words, the particulars of Sheridan's school-days, with which he had the kindness to favor me, and to which his name gives an authenticity and interest too valuable on such a subject to be with- held : "Dear Sir, '' Hatton, August 3, 1818. " With the aid of h scribe I sit dowm to fulfil my promise about Mr. Sheridan. There vras little in his boyhood worth com- munication. He was inferior to many of his school-fellow^s in the ordinary business of a school, and I do not remember any one instance in which he distinguished himself by Latin or Eng- lish composition, in prose or verse.*^ Nathaniel Halhed, one of his school-fellows, wrote well in Latin and Greek. Richard Archdal], another school-fellow, excelled in English verse. Rich- ard Sheridan aspired to no rivalry with either of them. He was at the uppermost part of the fifth form, but he never reached the sixth, and, if I mistake not, he had no opportunity of attending the most difficult and the most honorable of school business, when the Greek plays were taught — and it was the custom at Harrow to teach these at least every year. He went through his lessons in Horace, and Virgil, and Homer well enough for a time. But, in the absence of the upper master, Doctor Sumner, it once fell in my way to instruct the two upper forms, and upon calling up * II will be seen, however, lliough Dr. Parr was not awrire of llie circumstance, that Shcriiian did 'ry his talent at English verse before he left Harrow. tllGHT HON. RICHAED BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 13 Dick Sh(:ridan, I found him not only slovenly in construing, but unusually defective in his Greek grammar. Knowing him to be a clever fellow, I did not fail to probe and to tease him. I stated his case with great good-humor to the upper master, who was one of the best tempered men in the world ; and it was agreed be- tween us, that Richard should be called oftener and worked more severely. The varlet was not suffered to stand up m his place ; but was summoned to take his station near the master's table, where the voice of no prompter could reach him ; and, in this de- fenceless condition, he was so harassed, that he at last gathered up some grammatical rules, and prepared himself for his lessons. While this tormenting process was inflicted upon him, I now and then upbraided him. But you will take notice that he did not in- cur any corporal punishment for his idleness : his industry was just sufficient to protect him from disgrace. All the while Sum- ner and I saw in him vestiges of a superior intellect. His eye, his countenance, his general manner, were striking. His answers to any common question were prompt and acute. We knew the esteem, and even admiration, which, somehow or other, all his school-fellows felt for him. He was mischievous enough, but his pranks were accompanied by a sort of vivacity and cheerfulness, which delighted Sumner and myself. I had much talk with him about his apple-loft, for the supply of which all the gardens in the neighborhood were taxed, and some of the lower boys were employed to furnish it. I threatened, but without asperity, to trace the depredators, through his associates, up to their leader. He with perfect good-humor set me at defiance, and I never could bring the charge home to him. All boys and all masters were pleased with him. I oflen praised him as a lad of great talents, — often exhorted him to use them well ; but my exhortations were fruitless. I take for granted that his taste was silently im- proved, and that he knew well the little which he did know. H^ was removed from school too soon by his father, who was the intimate friend of Sumner, and whom I often met at his house. Sumner had a fine voice, fine ear, fuie taste, and, therefore, pro- nunciation was frequently the favorite subject between him and 14 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE Tom Sheridan. I was present at many of their discussions ai :* disputes, and sometimes took a very active part in them, — ba^: Richard was not present. The father, you know, was a wrong- headed, whimsical man, and, perhaps, his scanty circumstances were one of the reasons which prevented him from sending Rich- ard to the University. He must have been aware, as Sumner and I were, that Richard's mind was not cast in any ordinary mould. I ought to have told you that Richard, when a boy, was a great reader of English poetry ; but his exercises afforded no proof of his proficiency. In truth, he, as a boy, was quite careless about literary fame. I should suppose that his father, without any regular system, polished his taste, and supplied his memory vrith anecdotes about our best writers in our Auorustan a2:e. The grandfather, you know, lived familiarly with Swift. I have heard of him, as an excellent scholar. His boys in Ireland once per- formed a Greek play, and when Sir AVilllam Jones and I were talking over this event, I determined to make the experiment in England. I selected some of my best boys, and they performed the CEdipus Tyrannus, and the Trachinians of Sophocles. I wrote some Greek Iambics to vindicate myself from the imputation of singularity, and grieved I am that I did not keep a copy of them. Milton, you may remember, recommends what I attempted. " I saw much of Sheridan's father after the death of Sumner, and after my own removal from Harrow to Stanmer. I respected him, — he really liked me, and did me some important services, — but I never met him and Richard together. I often inquired about Richard, and, from the father's answers, found they were not upon good terms, — but neither he nor I ever spoke of his son's talents but in terms of the highest praise." In a subsequent letter Dr. Parr says : " I referred you to a passage in the Gentleman's Magazine, where I am represented a-s discovering and encouraging in Richard Sheridan those intel- lectual powers which had not been discovered and encouraged by Sumner. But the statement is incorrect. We both of us discovered talents, which neither of us could bring into action while Sheridan was a school-boy. He gave us few opportuni- RIGHT HON. KIGHARD BHIXSLEY SHERIDAX. 16 tien of praise in the course of his school business, and yet he was well aware that we thought highly of him, and anxiously wished more to be done by him than he was disposed to do. * " I once or twice met his mother, — she was quite celestial. Both her virtues and her genius were highly esteemed by Robert Sumner. I know not whether Tom Sheridan found Richai'd tractable in the art of speaking, — and, upon such a subject, indo- lence or indifference would have been resented by the father as crimes quite inexpiable. One of Richard's sisters now and then visited Harrow, and w^ell do I remember that, in the house where I lodged, sne triumphantly repeated Dryden's Ode upon St. Cecilia's Day, according to the instruction given to her by her father. Take a sample : ' None but the brave, None but the brave, None hut the brave deserve the fair.' Whatever may have been the zeal or the proficiency of the sister, naughty Richard, like Gallio, seemed to care naught for these things. " In the later periods of his life Richard did not cast behind him classical reading. He spoke copiously and powerfully about Cicero. He had read, and he had understood, the four orations of Demosthenes, read and taught in our public schools. He was at home in Virgil and in Horace. I cannot speak positively about Homer, — but I am very sure that he read the Iliad now and then ; not as a professed scholar w^ould do, critically, but with all the strong sympathies of a poet reading a poet.* Richard did not, and could not forget what he once knew, but his path to knowledge was his own, — his steps were noiseless, — his progress was scarcely felt by himself, — his movements were rapid but irregular. " Let me assure you that Richard, when a boy, was by no * It was not one of the least of the triumphs of Sheridan's talent to have been able to persuade so acute a scholar as Dr. Parr, that the extent of hib classical acquirements was so great as is here represented, and to have thus impressed with the idea of his 7»^inenibering- so much, the person who best l:ncw how little he had learned. 16 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE means vicious. The sources of his infirmities were a scanty and precarious allowance from the father, the want of a regular plan for some profession, and, above all, the act of throwing him upon the town, when he ought to have been pursuing his studies at the University. He would have done little among mathematicians at Cambridge ; — he would have been a rake, or an idler, or a trifler, at Dublin ; — but I am inclined to think that at Oxford he would have become an excellent scholar. " I have now told you all that i know, and it amounts to very little. I am very solicitous "or justice to be done to Robert Sumner. He is one of the six or seven persons among my own acquaintance whose taste I am accustomed to consider perfect, and, were he living, his admiration * * * '^ During the greater part of Richard's stay at Harrow his father had been compelled, by the embarrassment of his affairs, to reside with the remainder of the family in France, and it was at Blois, in the September of 1766, that Mrs. Sheridan died — leaving behind her that best kind of tame, which results from a life of usefulness and purity, and which it requires not the aid of art or eloquence to blazon. She appears to have been one of those rare women, who, united to men of more pretensions, but less real intellect than themselves, meekly conceal this superiority even from their own hearts, and pass their lives without remonstrance or murmur, in gently endeavoring to repair those evils which the indiscretion or vanity of their partners has brought upon them. As a supplement to the interesting com muni cation of Dr. Parr, I shall here subjoin an extract from a letter which the eldest sister of Sheridan, Mrs. E. Lefanu, wrote a few months after his death to Mrs. Sheridan, in consequence of a wish expressed by the latter that Mrs. Lefanu would communicate such particu- lars as she remembered of his early days. It will show, too, the feeling which his natural good qualities, in spite of the errors by which they were obscured and weakened, kept alive to the last, in the hearts of those connected with him, that sort of * The remainder of the letter relates to other subjects. JlIGHT HON. KICFAilD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 17 retrospective afFection, which, when those whom we have loved become altered, whether in mind or person, brings the recollec- tion of what they once were, to mingle with and soften our im- pression of what they are. After giving an account of the residence of the family in France, she continues : " We returned to England, when I may say I first became acquainted with my brother — for faint and imperfect were my recollections of liiin, as might be expected from my age. I saw him ; and my childish attachment revived with double force. He was handsome, not merely in the eyes of a partial sister, but generally allowed to be so. His cheeks had the glow of health ; his eyes, — the finest in the world, — the brilliancy of genius, and were soft as a tender and affectionate heart could render them. The same playful fancy, the same sterling and innoxious wit, that was shown afterwards in his writings, cheered and delighted the family circle, I admired — I almost adored him. I would most willingly have sacrificed my life for him, as I, in some measure, proved to him. at Bath, where we resided for some time, and where events that you must have heard of engaged him in a duel. My father's dis- pleasure threatened to involve me in the denunciations against him, for committing what he considered as a cyme. Yet I risked everything, and in the event was made happy by obtaining forgiveness for my brother. * * * * You may perceive, dear sister, that very little indeed have I to say on a subject so near your heart, and near mine also. That for years I lost sight of a brother whom I loved with unabated affection — a love that neither absence nor neglect could chill — I always consider as a great misfortune." On his leaving Harrow, where he continued till near his eighteenth year, he was brought home by his father, who, with the elder son, Charles, had lately returned from France, and taken a house in London. Here the two brothers for some time received private tuition from Mr. Lewis Kerr, an Irish gentle man, who had formerly practised as a physician, but having, by loss of health, been obliged to give up his profession, supported 18 MEMOIES OF THE LIFE OF THE himself by gi^'ing lessons in Latin and Mathematics. They attended also the fencing and riding schools of Mr. Angelo, and received instructions from their father in English grammar and oratory. Of this advantage, however, it is probable, only the elder son availed himself, as Richard, who seems to have been determined to owe all his excellence to nature alone, was found as impracticable a pupil at home as at school. But, however inattentive to his "studies he may have been at Harrow, it appears, from one of the letters of his school-fellow, Mr. Halhed^ that in poetry, which is usually the first exercise in which these young athleta3 of intellect try their strength, he had already dis- • tinguished himself; and, in conjunction with his friend Halhed, had translated the seventh Idyl, and many of the lesser poems of Theocritus. This literary partnership was resumed soon after their departure from Harrow. In the year 1770, when Halhed was at Oxford, and Sheridan residing with his father at Bath, they entered into a correspondence, (of which, unluckily, only Halhed s share remains,) and, with all the hope and spirit o^ young adventurers, began and prosecuted a variety of works together, of which none but their translation of Aristsenetus ever saw the light. There is something m the alliance between these boys pecu- liarly interesting. Their united ages, as Halhed boasts in one of his letters, did not amount to thirty-eight. They were both aboundmg in wit and spirits, and as sanguine as the consciousness of talent and youth could make them ; both inspired with a taste for pleasure, and thrown, upon their own resources for the means of gratifying it; both carelessly embarking, without rivalrv or reserve, their venture of fame in the sam.e bottom, and both, as Halhed discovered at last, passionately in love with the same woman. It would have given me great pleasure to have been enabled to enliven my pages w^ith even a few extracts from that portion of their correspondence, which, as I have just mentioned, has fallen into my hands. There is in the letters of Mr. Halhed a fiesh youthfulness of style, and an unaifected vivacity of thought, PJGIIT HON. EICHAHD BEIXSLEY SHEKIDAN. 19 which I question whether even his witty correspondent could have surpassed. As I do not, however, feel authorized to lay these letters before the world, I must only avail myself of the aid which their contents supply towards tracing the progress of his literary partnership with Sheridan, and throwing light on a period so full of interest in the life of the latter. Their first joint production was a farce, or rather play, in three acts, called " Jupiter," written in imitation of the burletta of Midas, whose popularity seems to have tempted into its wake a number of these musical parodies upon heathen fable. The amour of Jupiter with Major Amphitryon's wife, and Sir Rich- ard Ixion's courtship of Juno, who substitutes Miss Peggy Nuhi- lis in her place, form the subject of this ludicrous little drama, of which Halhed furnished the burlesque scenes, — while the form of a rehearsal. Into which the whole is thrown, and which, as an anticipation of " The Critic" is highly curious, was suggested and managed entirely by Sheridan. The following extracts will give some idea of the humor of this trifle ; and in the character of Simile the reader will at once discover a sort of dim and shadowy pre-existence of Puff: — '• Simile. Sir, you are very ignorant on the subject, — it is the method most in vogue. *^ O^Oul. What! to make the music first, and then make the sense to it afterwards ! " Bim. Just so. '' Monop. What Mr. Simile says is very true, gentlemen ; and there is nothing surprising in it. if we consider now the general method of writing 'plays to scenes. " OCul. Writing jt)Za?/s to scenes! — Oh, you are joking. '* Monop. Not I, upon my word. Mr. Simile knows that I have frequent- ly a complete set of scenes from Italy, and then I have nothing to do but to get some ingenious hand to write a play to them. *' Sim. I am your witness, Sir. Gentlemen, you perceive you know nothing about these matters. '^ O'Cul. Why, Mr. Simile, I don't pretend to know much relating to these affairs, but what I think is this, that in this method, according to your prin- ciples, you must often commit blunders. " Sim. Blunders! to be sure I must, but I always could get myself out 20 MEMOIUS OF THE LIFE OF THK of them again. Why, I'll tell you an instance of it. — You must know 1 was once a journeyman sonnet-writer to Signor Squallini. Now, his method, when seized with the furor harmonicus, was constantly to make me sit by his side, while he was thrumming on his harpsichord, in order to make ex- tempore verses to whatever air he should beat out to his liking. I remem- ber, one morning, as he was in this situation, thrum, thrum^ thrum^ {moviny his fingers as if beating on the harpsichord.) striking out something pro- digiously great, as he thou2;ht, — ' Hah !' said he, — • hah! Mr. Simile, thrum, thrum, thrum, by gar here is vary fine, — thrum, thrum, thrum, write me some words directly.' — I durst not interrupt him to ask on what subject, so instantly began to describe a fine morning. " * Calm was the land and calm the seas, And calm the heaven's dome serene, Hush'd was the gale and hush'd the breeze, And not a vapor to be seen.' I sang it to his notes, — ' Hah ! upon my vord vary pritt, — thrum, thrum ^ thrum, — stay, stay, — thrum, thrum, — Hoa? upon my vord, here it must be an dAdigio,- -thrum, thrum, — oh! let it be an Ode to Melancholy.^ ^'Monop. The Devil ! — there you were puzzled sure. " Sim. Not in the least. — I brought in a cloud in the next stanza, and matters, you see, came about at once. " Monop. An excellent transition. " O^Gul. Vastly ingenious indeed. '^ Sim. Was it not? hey! it required a little command, — a little presence of mind, — but I believe we had better proceed. " Monop. The sooner the better, — come, gentlemen, resume your seats. " Sim. Now for it. Draw up the curtain, and {looking at his book) enter Sir Richard Ixion, — but stay,— zounds. Sir Richard ought to overhear Ju- piter and his wife quarrelling, — but, never mind, — these accidents have spoilt the division of my piece. — So enter Sir Richard, and look as cunning as if you had overheard them. Now for it, gentlemen, — you can't be toe attentive. Enter Sir Richabd Ixion completely dressed, with bag. sword, dtc. '^ Ix. 'Fore George, at logger-heads, — a lucky minute, Ton honor, I may make my market in it. Dem it, my air, address, and mien must touch her, Now out of sorts with him, — less God than butcher. rat the fellow, — where can all his sense lie. To gallify the lady so immensely ? Ah! le grand bete quHl est ! — how rude the bear is! The world to two-pence he was ne'er at Paris* EIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 21 i erdition stap my vitalS; — now or never 111 niggle snugly into Juno's favor. Let's see, — {looking in a glass) my face, — toll loll — 'twill work upon her. My person — oh, immense, upon my honor. My eyes, — oh fie, — the naughty glass it flatters, — Courage, — Ixion flogs the world to tatters. [Exit Ixion. " Siyn. There is a fine gentleman for you, — in the very pink of the mode, with not a single article about him his own, — his words pilfered from Maga- zines, his address from French valets, and his clothes not paid for. ^^ Macd. But pray, Mr. Simile, how did Ixion get into heaven? '- Sim. Why, Sir, what's that to any body ? — perhaps by Salmoneus's Brazen Bridge, or the Giaut^s Mountain, or the Tower of Babel, or on Theobald's b. ill-dogs, or — who the devil cares how? — he is there, and that's enough. '^ " Sim. Now for a Phoenix of a song. So7ig hy Jupiter. " You dogs, I'm Jupiter Imperial, King, Emperor, and Pope setherial, Master of th' Ordnance of the sky. — •' Sim. Z ds, Where's the ordnance ? Have you forgot the pist ;1 ? {to tJie Orchestra,) '^ Orchestra, {to some one behind the scenes.) Tom, are not you pre- pared? " Tom. {from behind the scenes.) Yes, Sir, but I flash 'd in the pan a little out of time, and had I staid to prime, I should have shot a bar too late. '' Sim. Oh then, Jupiter, begin the song again. — We must not lose our ordnance. " You dogs, I'm Jupiter Imperial, King, Emperor, and Pope aetherial, Master of th' Ordnance of the sky ; &c. &c. [Here a pistol or cracker is fired from behind the scenes. *^ Sim. This hint I took from Handel. — Well, how do you think we go on ? *^ 0''Cul. With vast spirit, — the plot begins to thicken. '' Sim. Thicken ! aye.— 'twill be as thick as the calf of your leg present- ly. Well, now for the real, original, patentee Amphitryon. What, ho, Am- phitryon ! Amphitryon !— 'tis Simile calls.-— Why, where the devil is he ? Enter Servant. " Monop. Tom, where is Amphitryon? " ^im* founds, he's not arrestee^ too, is he ? 22 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE *' Serv. No, Sir, but there was but 07ie black eye in the house, and he i& waiting to get it from Jupiter. " Sim, To get a black eye from Jupiter, — oh, this will never do. Why, when they meet, they ought to match like two beef-eaters." According to their original plan for the conclusion of this flirce, all things were at last to be compromised between Jupiter and Juno ; Amphitryon was to be comforted in the birth of so mighty a son ; Ixion, for his presumption, instead of being fixed to a torturing wheel, was to have been fixed to a vagrant mono- troche, as knife-grinder, and a grand chorus of deities (intermixed with " knives, scissors, pen-knives to grind," set to music as nearly as possible to the natural cry,) would have concluded the whole. That habit of dilatoriness, which is too often attendant upon genius, and which is for ever making it, like the pistol in the scene just cpoted, " shoot a bar too late," was, through life, remarkable in the character of Mr. Sheridan, — and we have here an early in- stance of its influence over him. Though it was in August, 1770, that he received the sketch of this piece from his friend, and though they both looked forward most sanguinely to its success, ■ as likely to realize many a dream of fame and profit, it was nou till the month of May in the subsequent year, as appears by a letter from Mr. Ker to Sheridan, that the probability of the ar- rival of the manuscript was announced to Mr. Foote. " Ihave dispatched a card, as from H. H., at Owen's Coffee-house, to Mr. Foote, to inform him that he may expect to see your dramatic piece about the 25th instant." Their hopes and fears in this theatrical speculation are very naturally andlivelily expressed throughout Halher^'s letters, some- times with a degree of humorous pathos, which is interesting as characteristic of both the WTiters : — " the thoughts," he says, " of 200/. shared between us are enough to bring the tears into one's eyes." Sometimes, he sets more moderate limits to their am- bition, and hopes that they will, at least, get the freedom of the play-house by it. But at all times he chides, with good-humored /mpatience, the tardiness of his fellow-laborer in applying to the managers. Fears are expressed that Foote may have made BIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 23 other engagements, — and that a piece, called "Dido," on the same mythological plan, which had lately been produced with but little success, might prove an obstacle to the reception of theirs. At Drury Lane, too, they had little hopes of a favorable hearing, as Dibdin was one of the principal butts of their ridicule. The summer season, however, was suffered to pass away with- out an effort ; and in October, 1771, we find Mr. Halhed flatter- ing himself with hopes from a negotiation with Mr. Garrick. It does not appear, however, that Sheridan ever actually presented this piece to any of the managers ; and indeed it is probable, from the following fragment of a scene found among his papers, that he soon abandoned the groundwork of Halhed altogether, and transferred his plan of a rehearsal to some other subject, of his own invention, and, therefore, more worthy of his wit. It will be perceived that the puffing author was here intended to be a Scotchman. *' M. Sir, I have read your comedy, and I think it has infinite merit, but. pray, don't you think it rather grave ? '' S. Sir, you say true ; it is a grave comedy. I follow the opinion of LonglnuS; who says comedy ought always to be sentimental. Sir, I value a sentiment of six lines in my piece no more than a nabob does a rupee. I hate those dirty, paltry equivocations, which go by the name of puns, and pieces of wit. No, Sir, it ever was my opinion that the stage should be a place of rational entertainment ; instead of which, I am very sorry to say, most people go there for their diversion : accordingly, I have formed my comedy so that it is no laughing, giggling piece of work. He must be a very light man that shall discompose his muscles from the beginning to the end. " M. But don't you think it may be too grave ? '• S. never fear ; and as for hissing, mon, they might as well Jiiss the common prayer-book ; for there is the viciousness of vice and the virtuous- ness of virtue in every third line. '' M. I confess there is a great deal of moral in it ; but. Sir, I should imagine if you tried your hand at tragedy '• S. No, mon, there you are out. and I'll relate to you what put me first on writing a comedy. You must know I had composed a very fine tragedy about the valiant Bruce. I showed it my Laird of Mackintosh, and he was a very candid mon, and he said my genius did not lie in tragedy : I took the hiiit, and, as soon as I got home, began my comedy." 24 MEMOIES OF THE LIFE OF THE We have here some of the very thoughts and words tliat afterwards contributed to the fortune of Puff; and it is amusir.g to observe how long this subject was played with by the current of Sheridan's fancy, till at last, like " a stone of lustre from the brook," it came forth with all that smoothness and polish which it wears in his inimitable farce. The Critic. Thus it is, too, and but little to the glory of what are called our years of discretion, that the life of the man is chiefly employed in giving effect to the wishes and plans of the hoy. Another of their projects was a Periodical Miscellany, the idea of which originated with Sheridan, and whose first embryo movements we trace in a letter to him from Mr. Lewis Kerr, who undertook, with much good nature, the negotiation of the young anther's literary concerns in London. The letter is dated 30th of October, 1770 : " As to your intended periodical paper, if it meets with success, there is no doubt of profit accruing, as I have already engaged a publisher, of established reputation, to undertake it for the account of the authors. But I am to indem- nify him in case it should not sell, and to advance part of the first expense, all which I can do without applying to Mr. Ewart." — " I would be glad to know what stock of papers you have already written, as there ought to be ten or a dozen at least finished before you print any, in order to have time to prepare the subsequent numbers, and ensure a continuance of the work. As to the coffee-houses, you must not depend on their taking it in at first, except you go on the plan of the Tatler, and give the news of the week. For the first two or three weeks the expense of advertising will certainly prevent any profit being made. But when that is over, if a thousand are sold weekly, you may reckon on receiving £5 clear. One paper a week will do better than two. Pray say no more as to our accounts." The title intended by Sheridan for this paper was " Hernan's Miscellany," to which his friend Halhed objected, and suggested, " The Reformer," as a newer and more significant name. But though Halhed appears to have sought among his Oxford friends for an auxiliary or two in their weekly labors, this meditated RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 25 Miscellany never proceeded beyond the first number, which was written by Sheridan, and which I have found among his papers. It is too diffuse and pointless to be given entire ; but an extract or two from it will not be unwelcome to those who love to trace even the first, feeblest beginnings of genius : HERNAN'S MISCELLANY. No. I. ^' • I will sit down and write for the good of the people— for (said I to myself, pulling off my spectacles, and drinking up the remainder of my sixpen 'worth) it cannot be but people must be sick of these same rascally politics. All last winter nothing but — God defend me! 'tis tiresome to think of it.' I immediately flung the pamphlet down on the table, and taking my hat and cane walked out of the coffee-house. ^' I kept up as smart a pace as I could all the way home, for I felt myself full of something, and enjoyed my own thoughts so much, that I was afraid of digesting them, lest any should escape me. At last I knocked at my own door. — ' So !' said I to the maid who opened it, (for I never would keep a man ; not, but what I could afford it— however, the reason is not material now,) ' So !' said I with an unusual smile upon my face, and imme- diately sent her for a quire of paper and half a hundred of pens — the only thing I had absolutely determined on in my way from the coffee-house. I had now got seated in my arm chair, — I am an infirm old man, and I live on a second floor, — y» hen I began to ruminate on my project. The first thing that occurred to me (and certainly a very natural one) was to examine my common-place book. So I went to my desk and took out my old faithful red-leather companion, who had long discharged the office of treasurer to all my best hints and memorandums : but, how w»6 I surprised, when one of the first things that struck my eyes was the following memorandum, legibly written, and on one of my best sheets of vellum : — ' Mem. — Oct. 20tkj 1769, left the Grecian after Jiaving read *5 Poems, with a determined resolution to write a Periodical Paper, in ordr to reform the vitiated taste of the age ; hu^. coming home and finding my fire out, and my maid gone abroad, was obliged to defer the execution of my plan to another op- portunity.' Now though this event had absolutely slipped my memory, I now recollected it perfectly, — ay, so my flre was out indeed, and my maid did go abroad sure enough. — ' Good Heavens !' said I, ' how great events depend upon little circumstances !' However, I looked upon this as a memento for me no longer to trifle away mj time and resolution ; and thus I began to reason, — I mean, I ivould have reasoned, had I not been interrupted by a noise of some one coming up stairs. By the alternate thump upon VOL. I. 2 26 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE the steps, I soon discovered it must be my old and intimate friend Rud- liche. ******** <'But, to return, in walked Rudliche.— ' So, Fred.'— ^ So, Bob.'— 'Were you at the Grecian to-day?' — 'I just stepped in.' — -Well, any news?' — *No, no, there was no news.' Now, as Bob and I saw one another almost every day, we seldom abounded in conversation ; so, having settled one material point, he sat in his usual posture, looking at the fire and beating the dust out of his wooden leg, when I perceived he vvas going to touch upon the other subject ; but, having by chance cast his eye on my face, and finding (I suppose) something extraordinary in my countenance, he imme- diately dropped all concern for the v/eather, and putting his hand into his pocket, (as if he meant to find what he was going to say, under pretence of feeling for his tobacco-box,) ' Hernan ! (he began) why, man, you look for all the world as if you had been thinking of something.' — * Yes,' replied I, smiling, (that is, not actually smiling, but with a conscious something in my face,) ' I have, indeed, been thinking a little.' — ' What, is't a secret ?' — ' Oh, nothing very material.' Here ensued a pause, which I employed in con- sidering whether I should reveal my scheme to Bob ; and Bob in trying to disengage his thumb from the string of his cane, as if he were preparing to take his leave. This latter action, with the great desire I had of disbur- dening myself, made me instantly resolve to lay my whole plan before him. * Bob,' said I, (he immediately quitted his thumb,) • you remarked that I looked as if I had been thinking of something, — your remark is just, and I'll tell you the subject of my thought. You know. Bob, that I always had a strong passion for literature :— you have often seen my collection of books, not very large indeed, however I believe I have read every volume of it twice over, (excepting '5 Divine Legation of Moses, and 's Lives of the most notorious Malefactors,) and I am now determined to profit by them.' I concluded with a very significant nod ; but, good heavens ! how mortified was I to find both my speech and my nod thrown away, when Rudliche calmly replied, with the true phlegm of ignorance, ' My dear friend, I think your resolution in regard to your books a very prudent one ; but I do not perfectly conceive your plan as to the profit; for, though your volumes may be very curious, yet you know they are most of them second- hand.' — I was so vexed with the fellow's stupidity that I had a great mind to punish him by not disclosing a syllable more. However, at last my vanity got the better of my resentment, and I explained to him the whole matter. " In examining the beginning of the Spectators, &c., I find they are all written by a society. — Now I profess to write all myself, though I acknowl RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 27 edge that, on account of a weakness in my eyes, I have got some under- strappers wlio are to write the poetry, &c In order to find the dif- ferent merits of these my subalterns, 1 stipulated with them that they should let me feed them as I would. This they consented to do, and it is surpris- ing to think what different effects diet has on the wi'iters. The same, who after having been fed two days upon artichokes produced as pretty a copy of verses as ever I saw, on beef was as dull as ditch-water * * * *''^ "It IS a characteristic of fools," says some one, "to be always beginning," — and this is not the only point in which folly and genius resemble each other. So chillingly indeed do the difficul- ties of execution succeed to the first ardor cf conception, that it is only wonderful there should exist so many finished monu- ments of genius, or that men of fancy should not oftener have contented themselves with those first vague sketches, in the production of which the chief luxury of intellectual creation lies. Among the many literary works shadowed out by Sheridan at this time were a Collection of Occasional Poems, and a volume of Crazy Tales, to the former of v/hich Halhed suggests that " the old things they did at Harrow out of Theocritus " might, with a littie pruning, form a useful contribution. The loss of the volume of Crazy Tales is little to be regretted, as from its title we may conclude it was written in imitation of the clever but licentious productions of John Hall Stephenson. If the same kind oblivion had closed over the levities of other young authors, who, in the season of folly and the passions, have made their pages the transcript of their lives, it would have been equally fortunate for themselves and the world. But whatever may have been the industry of these youthful authors, the translation of Aristsenetus, as I have already stated, was the only fruit of their literary alliance that ever arrived at sufficient maturity for publication. In November, 1770, Halhed had completed and forwarded to Bath his share of the work, and in the following month we find Sheridan preparing, with the assistance of a Greek grammar, to complete the task. " The 29th ult., (says Mr. Ker, in a letter to him from London, dated Dec. 4, 1770,) I was favored with yours, and have since been hunting for Aristaenetus, whom I found this day, and therefore 28 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE send to you, together with a Greek grammar. I might have dispatched at the same time some numbers of the Dictionary, but not having got the last two numbers, was not willing to send any without the whole of what is published, and still less willing to delay Aristasnetus's journey by waiting for them." The work alluded to here is the Dictionary of Arts and Sciences, to which Sheridan had subscribed, with the view, no doubt, of informing himself upon subjects of which he was as yet wholly ignorant, having left school, like most other young men at his age, as little furnished with the knowledge that is wanted in the world, as a person would be for the demands of a market, who went into it with nothing but a few ancient coins in his pocket. The passion, however, that now began to take possession of his heart was little favorable to his advancement in any serious studies, and it may easily be imagined that, in the neighborhood of Miss Linley, the Arts and Sciences were suffered to sleep quietly on their shelves. Even the translation of Aristsenetus, though a task more suited, from its amatory nature, to the ex- isting temperature of his heart, was proceeded in but slowly ; and it appears from one of Halhed's letters, that this impatient ally was already counting upon the spolia oplma of the campaign, before Sheridan had fairly brought his Greek grammar into the field. The great object of the former was a visit to Bath, and he had set his heart still more anxiously upon it, after a second meeting with Miss Linley at Oxford. But the profits expected from their literary undertakings were the only means to which he looked for the realizing of this dream ; and he accordingly implores his friend, with tlie most comic piteousness, to drive the farce on the stage by main force, and to make Aristsenetus sell whether he will or not. In the November of this year we find them discussing the propriety of prefixing their names to the work — Sheridan evidently not disinclined to venture, but Halhed recommending that they should wait to hear how " Sum- ner and the wise few of their acquaintance " would talk of the book, before they risked anything more tlian their initials, Ip HIGHT HON. RICHARD BRlNSLEY SHERIDAN. 29 answer to Sheridan's inquiries as to the extent of sale they may expect in Oxford, he confesses that, after three coffee-houses had bought one a-piece, not two more would be sold. That poverty is the best nurse of talent has long been a most humiliating truism ; and the fountain of the Muses, bursting from a barren rock, is but too apt an emblem of the hard source from which much of the genius of this world has issued. How strongly the young translators of Aristsenetus were under the mfluence of this sort of inspiration appears from every para- graph of Halhed's letters, and might easily, indeed, be concluded of Sheridan, from the very limited circumstances of his father, w^ho had nothing besides the pension of £200 a year, conferred upon him in consideration of his literary merits, and the little profits he derived from his lectures in Bath, to support with decency himself and his family. The prospects of Halhed were much more golden, but he was far too gay and mercurial to be prudent ; and from the very scanty supplies which his father allowed him, had quite as little of " le superflu, chose si neces- saire," as his friend. But whatever were his other desires and pursuits, a visit to Bath, — to that place which contained the two persons he most valued in friendship and in love, — was the grand object of all his financial speculations ; and among other ways and means that, in the delay of the expected resources from Aristsenetus, presented themselves, was an exhibition of £20 a year, which the college had lately given him, and w^ith five pounds of which he thought he mi^ht venture '* adire Corinthum." Though Sheridan had informed his friend that the translation was put to press some time in March, 1771, it does not appear to have been given into the hands of Wilkie, the publisher, till the beginning of May, when Mr. Ker writes thus to Bath : '' Your Aristaenetus is in the hands of Mr. Wilkie, in St. Paul's Church- yard, and to put you out of suspense at once, will certainly make his appearance about the first of June next, in the form of a neat volume, price 85. or 35. 6c/., as may best suit his size, &c., w^hich cannot be more nearly determined at present. I have undertaken 80 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE the task of correcting for the press Some of the Epistles that I have perused seem to me elegant and poetical ; in others I could not observe equal beauty, and here and there I could wish there was some little amendment. You will paidon this liberty I take, and set it down to the account of old-fashioned friendship." Mr. Ker, to judge from his letters, (which, in addi- tion to their other laudable points, are dated with a precision truly exemplary.) was a very kind, useful, and sensible person, and in the sober hue of his intellect exhibited a striking contrast? to the sparkling vivacity of the two sanguine and impatient young wits, whose affairs he so good naturedly undertook to nego- tiate. At length in August, 1771, Aristgenetus made its appearance — contrary to the advice o£. the bookseller, and of Mr. Ker, who represented to Sheridan the unpropitiousness of the season, partic- ularly for a first experiment in authorship, and advised the post- ponement of the publication till October. But the translators were too eager for the rich harvest of emolument they had pro- mised themselves, and too full of that pleasing but often fatal de- lusion — that calenture, under the influence of which young voya- gers to the shores of Fame imagine they already see her green fields and groves in the treacherous waves around them — to listen to the suggestions of mere calculating men of business. The first account they heard of the reception of the work was flattering enough to prolong awhile this dream of vanity. " It begins (writes Mr. Ker, in about a fortnight after the publication,) to make some noise, and is fathered on Mr. Johnson, author of the English Dictionary, &;c. See to-day's Gazetteer. The critics are admirable in discovering a concealed author by his style, man- ner, &;c." Their disappointment at the ultimate failure of the book was proportioned, we may suppose, to the sanguineness of their first expectations. But the reluctance Vrdth which an author yields to the sad certainty of being unread, is apparent in the eagerness with which Halhed avails himself of every encouragement for a rally of Ils hopes. The Critical Reviewers, it seems, had given EIGHT EON. RICIIAKD BRIKSLEY SHERIDAN. ,81 the work a tolerable character, and quoted the first Epistle."* The Weeidy Review in the Public Ledger had also spoken well of it, and cited a specimen. The Oxford Magazine had tran- scribed two whole Epistles, without mentioning from whence they were taken. Every body, he says, seemed to have read the book, and one of those hawking booksellers who attend the coffee- houses assured him it was written by Dr. Armstrong, author of the GEconomy of Love. On the strength of all this he re- commends that another volume of the Epistles should be pub- lished immediately — being of opinion that the readers of the first volume would be sure to purchase the second, and that the pub- lication of the second would put it in the heads of others to buy the first. Under a sentence containing one of these sanguine an- ticipations, there is written, in Sheridan's hand, the word " Quixote !" They were never, of course, called upon for the second part, and, whether we consider ih^ merits of the original or of the translation, the world has but little to regret in the loss. Aristse- netus is one^ of those weak, florid sophists, who flourished in the decline and degradation of ancient literature, and strewed their gaudy flowers of rhetoric over the dead muse of Greece. He is evidently of a much later period than Alciphron, to whom he is also very inferier in purity of diction, variety of subject, and playfulness of irony. But neither of them ever deserved to be wakened from that sleep, in which the commentaries of Bergler, De Pauw, and a few more such industrious scholars have shroud- ed them. The translators of Aristasnetus, in rendering his flowery prose into verse, might have found a precedent and model for their task in Ben Jonson, whose popular song, " Drink to me only with thine eyes," is, as Mr. Cumberland first remarked, but a * In one of the Reviews I have seen it thus spoken of :— " No such writer as Aristeene- tus ever existed in the classic aera ; nor did even the unhappy schools, after the destruc- tion of the Eastern empire, produce such a vnriler. It was left to the latter times of monk ish imi)Osition to give such trash as this, on which the translator has ill spent his time. We have been as idly employed in reading it, and our readers will in proportion lofe their time in perusing this article." 32 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE piece of fanciful mosaic, collected out of the Icve-letters of the sophist Philostratus. But many of the narrations in Aristsenetus are incapable of being elevated into poetry ; and. unluckily, these familiar parts seem chiefly to have fallen to the department of Ilalhed, who was far less gifted than his coadjutor with that artist-like touch, which polishes away the mark of vulgarity, and gives an air of elegance even to poverty. As the volume is not in many hands, the following extract from one of the Epistles may be acceptable — as well from the singularity of the scene de- scribed, as from the specimen it affords of the merits of the translation : ^ *' Listen — another pleasure I display, That help'd delightfully the time away. From distant vales, where bubbles from its source A crystal rill, they dug a winding course : See ! thro' the grove a narrow lake extends. Crosses each plot, to each plantation bends ; And while the fount in new meanders glides, The forest brightens with refreshing tides. Tow'rds us they taught the new-born stream to flow, Tow'rds us it crept, irresolute and slow ; Scarce had the infant current crickled by. When lo ! a wondrous fleet attracts our eye ; Laden with draughts might greet a monarch's tongue; The mimic navigation swam along. Hasten, ye ship-like goblets, down the vale, *Your freight a flagon, and a leaf your sail ; may no envious rush thy course impede, Or floating apple stop thy tide-born speed. His mildest breath a gentle zephyr gave ; The little vessels trimly stem'd the wave : Their precious merchandise to land they bore. And one by one resigned the balmy store. Stretch but a hand, we boarded them, and quaft With native luxury the tempered draught. • For where they loaded the nectareous fleet, The goblet glow'd with too intense a heat ; * " In the original, this luxurious image is pursued s'o far that the very leaf which is -epresented as the sail of the vessel, is particularized as of a medicinal nature, capable of preventing any ill effects the \vine might produce." — Note by the Translator. BIGHT HON. EICHAKD BRINSLEY SHERIDAK. 83 CooPd by degrees in these convivial ships, With nicest taste it met our thirsty lips.'' As a scholar, such as Halhed, could hardly have been led into the mistake, of supposing m MriSixa (purs (puXXov to mean " a leaf of a medicinal nature," we may, perhaps, from this circumstance not less than from the superior workmanship of the verses, at- tribute the whole of this Epistle and notes to Sheridan. There is another Epistle, the 12th, as evidently from the pen of his friend, the greater part of which is original, and shows, by its raciness and vigor, what difference there is between " the first sprightly runnings" of an author's own mind, and his cold, vapid transfusion of the thoughts of another. From stanza 10th to the end is all added by the translator, and all spirited — though full of a bold defying libertinism, as unlike as possible to the effeminate lubricity of the poor sophist, upon whom, in a grave, treacher- ous note, the responsibility of the whole is laid. But by far the most interesting part of the volume is the last Epistle of the book, " From a Lover resigning his Mistress to his Friend," — in which Halhed has contrived to extract from the unmeaningness of the original a direct allusion to his own fate ; and, forgetting Aristsenetus and his dull personages, thinks only of himself, and Sheridan, and Miss Linley. " Thee, then, my friend, — if yet a wi'etch may claim A last attention by that once dear name, — Thee I address : — the cause you must approve ; I yield you — what I cannot cease to love. Be thine the blissful lot, the nymph be thine : I yield my love, — sure, friendship may be mine. Yet must no thought of me torment thy breast : Forget me, if my griefs disturb thy rest, Whilst still I'll pray that thou may'st never know The pangs of baffled love, or feel my woe. But sure to thee, dear, charming — fatal maid! (For me thon'st charmed, and me thou hast be tray 'd,) This last request I need not recommend — Forget the lover thou, as he the friend. Bootless such charge ! for ne'er did pity move A heart that mockM the suit of humble love, TOL. I. 2- 34 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE Yet, in some thoughtful hour — if such can be, Where love, Timocrates, is join'd with thee — In some lone pause of jov, when pleasures pall, And fancy broods o'er joys it can't recall. Haply a thought of me, (for thou, my friend, May'st then have taught that stubborn heart to bend,) A thought of him whose passion was not weak. May dash one transient blush upon her cheek ; Haply a tear — (for I shall surely then Be past all power to raise her scorn again — ) Haply, I say, one self-dried tear may fall : — One tear she'll give, for whom I yielded all ! My life has lost its aim ! — that fatal fair Was all its object, all its hope or care : She was the goal, to which my course was bent, Where every wish, where every thought was sent ; A secret influence darted from her eyes, — Each look, attraction, and herself the prize. Concentred there, I liv'd for her alone ; To make her glad and to be blest was one. * ♦ * * * * Adieu, my friend, — nor blame this sad adieu. Though sorrow guides my pen, it blames not you. Forget me — 'tis my pray'r ; nor seek to know The fate of liim whose portion must be woe. Till the cold earth outstretch her friendly arms, And Death convince me that he can have charms." But Halhed's was not the only heart that sighed deeply and hopelessly for the young- Maid of Bath, who appears, indeed, to have spread her gentle conquests to an extent almost unparalleled in the annals of beauty. Her personal charms, the exquisiteness of her musical talents, and the full light of publicity which her profession threw upon both, naturally attracted round her a crowd of admirers, in whom the sympathy of a common pursuit soon kindled into rivalry, till she became at length an object of vanity as well as of love. Iler extreme youth, too, — for she was little more than sixteen when Sheridan first met her, — must have removed, even from minds the most fastidious and delicate, tha^ RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 35 repugnance they might justly have felt to her profession, if she had lived much longer under its tarnishing influence, or lost, by frequent exhibitions before the public, that fine gloss of femi- nine modesty, for whose absence not all the talents and accom- plishments of the whole sex can atone. She had been, even at this early age, on the point of marriage with Mr. Long, an old gentleman of considerable fortune in Wilt- shire, who proved the reality of his attachment to her in a way which few young lovers would be romantic enough to imitate. On her secretly representing to him that she never could be happy as his wife, he generously took upon himself the whole blame of breaking off the alliance, and even indemnified the father, who was proceeding to bring the transaction into court, by settling 3000/. upon his daughter. Mr. Sheridan, who owed to this liberal ^nduct not only the possession of the woman he loved, but the means of supporting her during the first years of their marriage, spoke invariably of Mr. Long, who lived to a very advanced age, with all the kindness and respect which such a disinterested character merited. It was about the middle of the year 1770 that the Sheridans took up their residence in King's Mead"^ Street, Bath, where an acquaintance commenced between them and Mr. Linley's family, which the kindred tastes of the young people soon ripened into intimacy. It was not to be expected, — though parents, in gene- ral, are as blind to the first approach of these dangers as they are rigid and unreasonable after they have happened, — that such youthful poets and musiciansf should come together without Love very soon making one of the party. Accordingly the two brothers became deeply enamored of Miss Linley. Her heart, however, was not so wholly im-preoccupied as to yield at once to the passion which her destiny had in store for her. One of tho^ transient preferences, which in early youth are mistaken * They also lived, during a part of their stay at Bath, in New King Street. t Dr. Burney, in his Biographical Sketch of Mr. Linley, wTitten for Rees' Cyclop^xdia, calls thfc Linley family 'chaise which waited for them on the London road, and in which she found a woman whom her lover had hired, as a sort of protecting Mi- nerva, to accompany them in their flight. It will be recollected that Sheridan was at this time little more than twenty, and his companion just entering her eighteenth year. On their arrival in London, with an adroitness which was, at least, very dramatic, he introduced her to an old friend of his family, (Mr. Ewart, a respectable brandy-merchant in the city,) as a rich heiress who had consented to elope with him to the Continent ; — in consequence of which the old gentleman, with many commendations of his wisdom for having given up the imprudent pursuit of Miss Linley, not only accommodated the fugitives with a passage on board a ship, which he had ready to sail from the port of London to Dunkirk, but gave them let- ters of recommendation to his correspondents at that place, who with the same zeal and dispatch facilitated their journey to Lisle. On their leaving Dunkirk, as was natural to expect, the chival- rous and disinterested protector degenerated into a mere sel- fish lover. It was represented by him, with arguments which seemed to appeal to prudence as well as feeling, that, after the step which they had taken, she could not possibly appear in England again but as his wife. He was therefore, he said, re- solved not to deposit her in a convent till she had consented, by the ceremony of a marriage, to confirm to him that right of protecting her, which he had now but temporarily assumed. It did not, we may suppose, require much eloquence to convince her heart of the truth of this reasoning ; and, accordingly, at a little village, not far from Calais, they were married about the latter end of March, 1772, by a priest well known for his ser- vices on such occasions. They thence immediately proceeded to Lisle, where Miss Linley, as she must still be called, giving up her intention of going on to St. Quentin, procured an apartment in a convent, with RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 51 the determination of remaining there, till Sheridan should have the means of supporting her as his acknowledged wife. A letter which he wrote to his brother from this place, dated April 15, though it throws but little additional light on the narrative, is too interesting an illustration of it to be omitted here : " Dear Brother, " Most probably you will have thought me very inexcusable for not having writ to you. You will be surprised, too, to be told that, except your letter just after we arrived, we have never received one line from Bath. We suppose for certain that there are letters somewhere, in which case we shall have sent to every place almost but the right, whither, I hope, I have now sent also. You will soon see me in England. Everything on our side has at last succeeded. Miss L is now fixing in a con- vent, where she has been entered some time. This has been a much more difficult point than you could have imagined, and we have, I find, been extremely fortunate. She has been ill, but is now recovered ; this, too, has delayed me. We would have wrote, but have been kept in the most tormenting expectation, from day to day, of receiving your letters ; but as everything is now so happily settled here, I will delay no longer giving you that mformation, though probably I shall set out for England without knowing a syllable of what has happened with you. All is well, I hope ; and I hope, too, that though you may have been ignorant, for some time, of our proceedings, you never could have been uneasy lest anything should tempt me to depart, even in a thought, from the honor and consistency which engaged me at first. I wrote to M ^ above a week ago, which, 1 think, was necessary and right. I hope he has acted the one proper part which was left him ; and, to speak from raj feelings^ I cannot but say that I shall be very happy to find no further disagreeable consequence pursuing him ; for, as Brutus says of Caesar, &c. — if I delay one moment longer, I lose the post. " I have writ now, too, to Mr. Adams, and should apologize * Mathews. 52 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE to you for having writ to him first, and lost my time for you Love to my sisters, Miss L to all. " Ever, Charles, your affect. Brother, " R. B. Sheridan. " 1 need not tell you that we altered quite our route." The illness of Miss Linley, to which he alludes, and which had been occasioned by fatigue and agitation of mind, came on some days after her retirement to the convent ; but an Engii^ii physician. Dr. Dolman, of York, who happened to be resident at Lisle at the time, was called in to attend her ; and in order that she might be more directly under his care, he and Mrs. Dolman invited her to their house, where she was found by Mr. Linley, on his arrival in pursuit of her. After a few w^ords of private explanation from Sheridan, which had the effect of recon- ciling him to his truant daughter, Mr. Linley insisted upon her returning with him immediately to England, in order to fulRl some engagements which he had entered into on her account ; and a promise being given that, as soon as these engagements were accomplished, she should be allowed to resume her plan of retirement at Lisle, the whole party set off amicably together for England. On the first discovery of the elopement, the landlord of the house in w^hich the Sheridans resided had, from a feeling of pity for the situation of the young ladies, — now left without the pro- tection of either father or brother, — gone off, at break of day, to the retreat of Charles Sheridan, and informed him of the event which had just occurred. Poor Charles, wholly ignorant till then of his brother's attachment to Miss Linley, felt all that a man may be supposed to feel, who had but too much reason to think himself betrayed, as well as disappointed. He hastened to Bath, where he found a still more furious lov^r, Mr. Mathews, inquiring at the house every particular of the affair, and almost avowing, in the impotence of his rage, the unprincipled design which this summary step had frustrated. In the course of their QonversatioUj Charles Sheridan let fall some unguarded expres- RIGHT HOK. KICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 53 sions of anger against his brother, which this gentleman, who seems to have been eminently qualified for a certain line of cha- racters indispensable in all romances, treasured up in his memo- ry, and, as it will appear, afterwards availed himself of them. For the four or five weeks during which the young couple were ab- sent, he never ceased to haunt the Sheridan family, with inquiries, rumors, and other disturbing visitations ; and, at length, urged on by the restlessness of revenge, inserted the following violent ad- vertisement in the Bath Chronicle : " Wednesday, April Sth, 1772. "Mr. Richard S******* having attempted, in a letter left be- hind him for that purpose, to account for his scandalous method of running away from this place, by insinuations derogating from my character, and that of a young lady, innocent as far as relates to 7ne, or my knowledge ; since which he has neither taken any notice of letters, or even informed his ow^n flimily of the place where he has hid himself; I can no longer think he deserves the treatment of a gentleman, and therefore shall trouble myself no further about him than, in this public method, to post him as a L^^^, and a treacherous S********. " And as I am convinced there have been manv malevolent in- cendiaries concerned in the propagation of this infamous lie, if any of them, unprotected by ay^, infirmities, or profession, will dare to acknowledge the part they have 'acted, and affirm to what they have said of me, they may depend on receiving the proper reward of their villany, in the most public manner. The world will be candid enough to judge properly (I make no doubt) of any private abuse on this subject for the future ; as nobody can defend himself from an accusation he is ignorant of "Thomas Mathews." On a remonstrance from Miss Sheridan upon this outrageous proceeding, he did not hesitate to assert that her brother Charles \^as privy to it; — a charge which the latter w^ith indignation re- pelled, and was only prevented by the sudden departure of Ma- 54 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE thews to London from calling him to a more serious account for the falsehood. At this period the party from the Continent arrived ; and as a detail of the circumstances which immediately followed has been found in Mr. Sheridan's own hand-writing, — drawn up hastily, it appears, at the Parade Coffee-house, Bath, the evening before his second duel with Mr. Mathews,— it would be little better than profanation to communicate them in any other words. ''It has ever been esteemed impertinent to appeal to the pub- lic in concerns entirely private ; but there now and then occurs a private incident which, by being explained, may be productive of puhlic advantage. This consideration, and the precedent of a public appeal in the same affair, are my only apologies for the following lines: — " Mr. T. Mathews thought himself essentially injured by Mr. R. Sheridan's having co-operated in the virtuous efforts of a young lady to escape the snares of vice and dissimulation. He wrote several most abusive threats to Mr. S., then in France. He labored, with a cruel industry, to vilify his character in Eng- land. He publicly posted him as a scoundrel and a liar. Mr. S. answered him from France (hurried and surprised), that he would never sleep in England till he had thanked him as he de- served. "Mr. S. arrived in London at 9 o'clock at night. At 10 he is informed, by Mr. S. Ewart, that Mr. M. is in town. Mr. S. had sat up at Canterbury, to keep his idle promise to Mr. M. — He resolved to call on him that night, as, in case he had not found him in town, he had called on Mr. Ewart to accompany him to Bath, being bound by Mr. Linley not to let anything pass be- tween him and Mr. M. till he had arrived thither. Mr. S. came to Mr. Cochlin's, in Crutched Friars, (where Mr. M. was lodged,) about half after twelve. The key of Mr. C.'s door was lost ; Mr. S. was denied admittance. By two o'clock he got in. Mr. M. had been previously down to the door, and told Mr. S. he should be admitted, and had retired to bed again. He dressed, com- RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRlNSLEY SHERIDAN. 55 plained of the cold, endeavored to get heat mto him, called Mr. S. his dear friend^ and forced him to — sit down, " Mr. S. had been informed that Mr. M. had sworn his death ; — that Mr. M. had, in numberless companies, produced bills on France, whither he meant to retire on the completion of his re- venge. Mr. M. had warned Mr. Ewart to advise his friend net even to come in his way without a sword, as he could not answer for the consequence. " Mr. M. had left two letters for Mr. S., in which he declares he is to be met with at any hour, and begs Mr. S. will not ' de- prive himself of so much sleep, or stand on any ceremony.'' Mr. S. called on him at the hour mentioned. Mr. S. was admitted with the difficulty mentioned. Mr. S. declares that, on Mr. M.'s perceiving that he came to answer then to his challenge, he does not remember ever to have seen a man behave so perfectly das- tardly. Mr. M. detained Mr. S. till seven o'clock the next morn- ing. He (Mr. M.) said he never meant to quarrel with Mr. S. He convinced Mr. S. that his enmity ought to be directed solely against his brother and another gentleman at Bath. Mr. S. went toBath.^^*^'^*^"t On his arrival in Bath, (whither he travelled with Miss Linley and her father,) Sheridan lost not a moment in ascertaining the falsehood of the charge against his brother. While Charles, how- ever, indignantly denied the flagitious conduct imputed to him by Mathews, he expressed his opinion of the step which Sheridan and Miss Linley had taken, in terms of considerable warmth, which were overheard by some of the family. As soon as the young ladies had retired to bed, the two brothers, without any announcement of their intention, set off post together for London, Sheridan having previously wTitten the following letter to Mr. Wade, the Master of the Ceremonies. " Sir, " I ought to apologize to you for troubling you again on a sub- ject which should concern so few. t The remainder of this paper is omilied, as only briefly referring to circumstances which wiU be found more minutely detailed in another document. 66 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE- OF THE " I iiiid Mr, Mathews's behavior to have been such that I can not be satisfied with his concession^ as a consequence of an expla- nation from me. I called on Mr. Mathews last Wednesday night at Mr. Cochlin's, without the smallest expectation of coming to any verbal explanation w^ith him. A proposal of a pacific meet- ing the next day was the consequence, which ended in those ad- vertisements and the letter to you. As for Mr. Mathews's honor or spi7'it in this whole aftliir, I shall only add that a few hours may possibly give some proof of the latter ; while, in my own justification, I aflirm that it was far from being my fault that this point now remains to be determined. " On discovering Mr. Mathews's benevolent interposition in my own family, I have count er-ordejed the advertisements that were agreed on, as T think even an explanation would now misbecome me ; an agreement to them was the effect more of mere charity than judgment. As I find it necessary to make all my senti- ments as public as possible, your declaring this will greatly oblige "Sat. 12 o'clock, " Your very humble Servant, May 2d, 1772. "R. B. Sheridan." " To William Wade, Esq^ On the following day (Sunday), when the young gentlemen did not appear, the alarm of their sisters was not a little increased, by hearing that high words had been exchanged the evening be- fore, and that it was feared a duel between the brothers would be the consequence. Though unable to credit this dreadful surmise, yet full of the various apprehensions which such mystery was calculated to inspire, they had instant recourse to Miss Linley, the fair Helen of all this strife, as the person most likely to be acquainted with their brother Richard's designs, and to relieve them from the suspense under which they labored. She, how- ever, was as ignorant of the transaction as themselves, and their mutual distress being heightened by sympathy, a scene of tears and fainting-fits ensued, of which no less remarkable a person than Doctor Priestley, who lodged in Mr. Linley's house at tho time, happened to be a witness. RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRIKSLEY SHERIDAN. 57 On the arrival of the brothers in town, Richard Sheridan in- stantly called Mathews out. His second on the occasion was Mr. Ewart, and the paHiculnrs of the duel are thus stated by himself, in a letter which ne addressed to Captain Knight, the second of Mathews, soon after the subsequent duel in Bath. " Sir, " On the evening preceding my last meeting with Mr. Mathews, Mr. Barnett* produced a paper to me, written by Mr. Mathews, containing an account of our former meetings in London. As I had before frequently heard of Mr. Mathews's relation of that affair, without interesting myself much in contradicting it, I should certainly have treated this in the same manner, had it not been seemingly authenticated by ^Ir. Knight's name being subscribed to it. My asserting that the paper contains much misrepresen- tation, equivocation, and falsity, might make it appear strange that I should apply to you in this m.anner for information on the subject: but, as it likewise contradicts what I have been told were Mr. Knight's sentiments and assertions on that affair, 1 think I owe it to his credit, as well as my own justification, first, to be satisfied from himself whether he really subscribed and will sup- port the truth of the account shown by Mr. Mathews. Give me leave previously to relate what / have affirmed to have been a real state of our meeting in London, and which I am now ready to support on my honor, or my oath, as the best account I can give of Mr. Mathews's relation is, that it is almost directly op- posite to mine. " Mr. Ewart accompanied me to Hyde Park, about six in the evening, where we met you and Mr. Mathews, and we walked together to the ring. — Mr. Mathews refusing to make any other acknowledgment than he liad done, I observed that we were come to the ground : Mr. Mathews objected to the spot, and ap- pealed to you. — We proceeded to the back of a building on the other side of the ring, the ground was there perfectly level. I called on liim and drew my sword (he having previously declined * Th.e friend of llathews in tlie second duel. VOL. I, fl 68 Memoirs of the life of th^ pistols). Mr. Ewart observed a sentinel on the other side of the building ; we advanced to another part of the park. I stopped again at a seemingly convenient place : Mr. Mathews objected to the observation of some people at a great distance, and proposed to retire to the Hercules' Pillars till the park should be clear : we did so. In a little time we returned. — I again drew my sword ; Mr. Mathews again objected to the observation of a person who seemed to watch us. Mr. Ewart observed that the chance was equal, and engaged that no one should stop him, should it be ne- cessary for him to retire to the gate, where we had a chaise and four, which was equally at his service. Mr. Mathews declared that he would not engage while any one was within sight, and proposed to defer it till next morning. I turned to you and said that 'this was trifling work,' that I could not admit of any delay, and engaged to remove the gentleman (who proved to be an officer, and who, on my going up to him, and assuring him that any interposition would be ill-timed, politely retired). Mr. Mathews, in the mean time, had returned towards the gate : Mr. Ewart and I called to vou. and followed. We returned to the Her- cules' Pillars, and went from thence, by agreement, to the Bedford Coffee House, where, the master being alarmed, you came and con- ducted us to Mr. Mathews at the Castle Tavern, Henrietta Street. Mr. Ewart took lights up in his hand, and almost immediately on our entering the room we engaged. I struck Mr. Mathews's point so much out of the line, that I stepped up and caught hold of his wrist, or the hilt of his sword, while the point of mine was at his breast. You ran in and caught hold of my arm, exclaim- ing, ''dont kill him.^ I struggled to disengage my arm, and said his sword was in my power. Mr. Mathews called out twice or thrice, ' / beg mij life^ — We were parted. You immediately said, ' ihere^ he has begged his life, and now there is an end of it / and, on Mr. Ewart saying that, when his sword was in my power, as I attempted no more you should not have interfered, you re- plied that you were wrong^ but that you had done it hastily, and to prevent mischief — or words to that effect. Mr. Mathews then hinted that I was rather obliged to your interposition for the ad- RIGHT HON. RlCiiAHD BRINSLEY SHEKIDAIS-. 69 v^antage ; you declared that ' before you did so, both the swords were in Mr. Sheridan's power.' Mr. Mathew^s still seemed re- solved to give it another turn, and observed that he had nevey quitted his sword, — Provoked at this, I then sw^ore (with too much heat, perhaps) that he should either give up his sword and I would break it, or go to his guard again. He refused — but, on my per- sisting, either gave it into my hand, or flung it on the table, or the ground [which I will not absolutely aflirm). I broke it, and flung the hilt to the other end of the room. He exclaimed at this. I took a mourning sword from Mr. Ewart, and presenting him with mine, gave my honor that w^hat had passed should never be men- tioned by me, and he might now right himself again. He re- plied that he 'would never draw a sword against the man who had given him his life ;' — but, on his still exclaiming against the in- dignity of breaking his sword (which he had brought upon him- self), Mr. Ewart offered him the pistols, and some altercation pass- ed between them. Mr. Mathews said, that he could never show his face if it were known how his sword was broke — that such a thing had never been done — that it cancelled all obligations, d:c. etc. You seemed to think it was wrong, and we both proposed, that if he never misrepresented the aflair, it should not be mentioned by us. This was settled. I then asked Mr. Mathews, whether (as he had expressed himself sensible of, and shocked at the in- justice and indignity he had done me in his advertisement) it did not occur to him that he owed me another satisfaction ; and that, as it was now in his power to do it without discredit, I sup- posed he would not hesitate. This he absolutely refused, unless conditionally ; I insisted on it, and said I would not leave the room till it was settled. After much altercation, and with much ill-grace, he gave the apology, w^hich afterwards appeared. We parted, and I returned immediately to Bath. I, there, to Colonel Gould, Captain Wade, Mr. Creaser, and others, mentioned the af- fair to Mr. Mathews's credit — said that chance having given me the advantage, Mr. Mathews had consented to that apology, and mentioned nothing of the sword. Mr. Mathew^s came down, and ill two days 1 found the whole aflliir had been stated in a diflferent 60 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE light, and insinuations given out to the same purpose as in the pa- per, which has occasioned this trouble. I had undoubted author- ity that these accounts proceeded from Mr. Mathews, and like- wise that Mr. Knight had never had any share in them. I then thought I no longer owed Mr. Mathews the compliment to con- ceal an}^ circumstance, and I related the affair to several gentle- men exactly as above. " Now, sir, as I have put down nothing in this account but upon the most assured recollection, and as Mr. Mathews's paper either directly or equivocally contradicts almost every article of it, and as your name is subscribed to that paper, I flatter myself that I have a right to expect your answer to the following questions : — First, " Is there any fitlsity or misrepresentation in what I have ad^ vanced above ] " With regard to Mr. Mathews's paper — did I, in the Park, seem in the smallest article inclined to enter into conversation with Mr. Mathews ? — He insinuates that I did. " Did jMr, Mathews not beg his life ? — He affirms he did not. " Did I break his sword without xvarning ? — He affirms I did it without warning, on his laying it on the table. " Did 1 not offer him mine ? — He omits it. " Did Mr. Mathews give me the apology, as a point of gene- rosity, on my desisting to demand it ? — He affirms he did. " I shall now give my reasons for doubting your having au- thenticated this paper. " 1. Because I think ^tfull of falsehood and misrepresentation, and Mr. Knight has the character of a man of truth and honor. " 2. AYhen you were at Bath, I was informed that you had never expressed any such sentiments. " 3. I have been told that, in Wales, Mr. Mathews never told his story in the presence of Mr. Knight, who had never there in- sinuated any thing to my disadvantage. " 4. The paper shown me by Mr. Barnett contains (if my memory does not deceive me) three separate sheets of writing paper. Mr. Knight's evidence is annexed to the last, which con. EIGHT HOK. RICHAKD BRIKSLEY SHERIDAN. 61 tains chiefly a copy of our first proposed advertisements, which Mr. Mathews had, in Mr. Knight's presence, agreed should be destroyed as totally void; and which (in a letter to Colonel Gould, by whom I had msisted on it) he declared upon his honor he knew nothing about, nor should ever make the least use of. " These, sir, are my reasons for applying to yourself, in prefe- rence to any appeal to Mr. Ewart, my second on that occasion, which is what I would wish to avoid. As for Mr. Mathews's as- sertions, I shall never be concerned at them. I have ever avoided any verbal altercation with that gentleman, and he has now se- cured himself from any other. " I am your very humble servant, "R. B. Sheridan." It was not till Tuesday morning that the young ladies at Bath were relieved from their suspense by the return of the two bro- thers, who entered evidently much fatigued, not having been in bed since they left home, and produced the apology of Mr. Ma- thews, which was instantly sent to Crutwell for insertion. It was in the following terms: — " Being convinced that the expressions I made use of to Mr. Sheridan's disadvantage were the effects of passion and misrepre- sentation, I retract what I have said to that gentleman's disad- vantage, and particularly beg his pardon for my advertisement in the Bath Chronicle. "Thomas Mathews."* With the odor of this transaction fresh about him, Mr. Mathews retired to his estate in Wales, and, as he might have expected, found himself universally shunned. An apology may be, accord- ing to circumstances, either the noblest effort of manliness or the last resource of fear, and it w^as evident, from the reception which * This appeared in the Bath Chronicle of May Tlh. In another part of tlie same paper there is the following paragraph : " We can with authority contradict the account in tho London Evening Post of last night, of a duel between Mr. M — t— ws and Mr. S — r — n, as to the time and event of their meetmg, Mr. S. having been at his place on Saturday, and both these gentlemen being here at present." 62 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE this gentlemai. experienced every where, that the former, at least was not the class to which his late retraction had been referred. In this crisis of his character, a Mr. Barnett, who had but lately come to reside in his neighborhood, observing with pain the mor- tifications to wliich he was exposed, and perhaps thhiking them, in some degree, unmerited, took upon him to urge earnestly the ne- cessity of a second meeting with Sheridan, as the only means of removing the stigma left by the first ; and, with a degree of Irish friendliness, not forgotten in the portrait of Sir Lucius OTrigger, offered himself to be the bearer of the challenge. The despera- tion of persons, in Mr. Mathews's circumstances, is in general much more formidable than the most acknowledged valor ; and we may easily believe that it was with no ordinary eagerness he accepted the proposal of his new ally, and proceeded with him, full of vengeance, to Bath. The elder Mr. Sheridan, who had but just returned from Ire- land, and had been with some little difficulty induced to forgive his son for the wild achievements he had been engaged in during his absence, was at this time in London, making arrangements for the departure of his favorite, Charles, who, through the mter- est of Mr. Wheatley, an old friend of the family, had been ap- pointed Secretary to the E'nbassy in Sweden. Miss Linley — wife and no wife, — obliged to conceal from the world what her heart would have been most proud to avow, was also absent from Bath, being engaged at the Oxford music-meeting. The letter containing the preliminaries of the challenge was delivered by Mr. Barnett, with rather unnecessary cruelty, into the hands of Miss Sheridan, under the pretext, however, that it was a note of invitation for her brother, and on the following morning, before it was quite daylight, the parties met at Kingsdown — Mr. Mathews, attended by his neighbor Mr. Barnett, and Sheridan by a gentle- man of the name of Paumier, nearly as young as himself, and but little qualified for a trust of such importance and delicacy. The account of the duel, which I shall here subjoin, was drawn up some months after, by the second of Mr. Mathews, and de- posited in the hands of Captain Wade, the master of the cer^ RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 63 monies. Though somewhat partially colored, and (according to Mr. Sheridan's remarks upon it, which shall be noticed presently) incorrect in some particulars, it is, upon the whole, perhaps as accurate a statement as could be expected, and received, as ap- pears by the following letter from Mr. Brereton, (another of Mr. Sheridan's intimate friends,) all the sanction that Captain Paumier's concurrence in the truth of its most material facts could furnish. " Dear Sir, " In consequence of some reports spread to the disadvantage of Mr. Mathews, it seems he obtained from Mr. Barnett an im- partial relation of the last affair with Mr. Sheridan, directed to you. This account Mr. Paumier has seen, and I, at Mr. Ma- thews's desire, inquired from him if he thought it true and im- partial : he says it differs, m a few immaterial circumstances only, from his opinion, and has given me authority to declare this to you. " I am, dear Sir, " Your most humble and obedient servant, (Signed) " William Brereton. " Bath, Oct. 24, 1772." Copy of a Paper left by Mr. Barnett in the hands of Captain William Wade, Master of the Ceremonies at Bath. " On quitting our chaises at the top of Kingsdown, I entered into a conversation with. Captain Paumier, relative to some pre- liminaries I thought ought to be settled in an affair which was likely to end very seriously ; — particularly the method of using their pistols, which Mr. Mathews had repeatedly signified his de- sire to use prior to swords, from a conviction that Mr. Sheridan would run in on him, and an ungentlemanlike scuffle probably be the consequence. This, however, was refused by Mr. Sheridan, declaring he had no pistols : Captain Paumier replied he had a brace (which I know were loaded). — By my advice, Mr. Ma- thews's were not loaded^ as I imagined it was alw^ays customary 64 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE to load on the field, which I mentioned to Captain Paumier at the White-Hart, before we went out, and desired he would draw his pistols. He replied, as they were already loaded, and they go- ing on a public road at that time of the morning, he might as well let them reniain so, till we got to the place appointed, when he would on his honor draw them, which I am convinced he would have done had there been time ; but Mr. Sheridan immediately drew his sword, and, in a vaunting manner, desired Mr. Mathews to draw (their ground was very uneven, and near the post-chaises). — Mr. Mathews drew ; Mr. Sheridan advanced on him at first ; Mr. Mathews in turn advanced fast on Mr. Sheridan ; upon which he retreated, till he very suddenly ran in upon Mr. Ma- thews, laying himself exceedingly open, and endeavoring to get hold of Mr. Mathews's sword ; Mr. Mathews received him on his point, and, I believe, disengaged his sword from Mr. Sheri- dan's body, and gave him another vfound ; which, I suppose, must have been either against one of his ribs, or his breast-bone, as his sword broke, which I i^nagme happened from the resistance it met with from one of those parts ; but whether it was broke by that, or on the closing, I cannot aver. -' Mr. Mathews, I think, on finding his sword broke, laid hold of Mr. Sheridan's sword-arm, and tripped up his heels : they both fell ; Mr. Mathews was uppermost, with the hilt of his sword in his hand, having about six or seven inches of the blade to it, with which I saw him give Mr. Sheridan, as I imagined, a skin-wound or two in the neck ; for it could be no more, — the re- maining part of the sword being broad and blunt; he also beat him in the face either with his fist or the hilt of his sword. Upon this I turned from them, and asked Captain Paumier if we should not take them up ; but I cannot say whether he heard me or not, as there was a good deal of noise ; however, he made no reply. I again turned to the combatants, who were much in the same situation : I found Mr. Sheridan's sword was bent, and he slip ped his hand up the small part of it, and gave Mr. Mathews a slight wound in the left part of his belly : I that instant turned again to Captain Paumier, and proposed again our taking them HIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 6S up. He in the same Tnoment called out, ' Oh ! he is killed, he is killed !' — I as quick as possible turned again, and found Mr. Ma- thews had recovered the point of his sword, that was before on the ground, with which he had wounded Mr. Sheridan in the belly : I saw him drawing the point out of the wound. By this time Mr. Sheridan's sword was broke, which he told us. — Captain Paumier called out to him, ' My dear Sheridan, beg your life, and I will be yours for ever.' I also desired him to ask his life : he replied, ' No, by God, I won't.' I then told Captain Paumier it would not do to wait for those punctilios (or words to that ef- fect), and desired he would assist me in taking them up. Mr. Mathews most readily acquiesced first, desiring me to see Mr. Sheridan was disarmed. I desired him to give me the tuck, which he readily did, as did Mr. Sheridan the broken part of his sword to Captain Paumier. Mr. Sheridan and Mr. Mathews both got up ; the former was helped into one of the chaises, and drove off for Bath, and Mr. Mathews made the best of his way for London. " The whole of this narrative I declare, on the word and honor of a gentleman, to be exactly true; and that Mr. Mathews discover- ed as much genuine, cool, and intrepid resolution as man could do. " I think I may be allowed to be an impartial relater of facts, as my motive for accompanying Mr. Mathews was no personal friendship, (not having any previous intimacy, or being barely acquainted with him,) but from a great desire of clearing up so ambiguous an affair, without prejudice to either party, — which a stranger was judged the most proper to do, — particularly as Mr. Mathews had been blamed before for takmg a relation with him on a similar occasion. (Signed) "William Barnett.* " October, 1772." The following account is given as an "Extract of a Letter from Bath," in the St. James's Clironlcle, July 4 : "Young Sheridan and Captain Mathews of this town, who lately had a rencontre in a tavern in London, upon account of the maid of Bath, Miss Linley, have had another this morning upon Kingsdown, about four miles hence Sheridan is much wounded, but whether mortally or not is yet uncertain. Both their swords breaking upon the first lunge, they threw each other down, and with the broken pieces hacked at each Dther, rolling upon the ground, the seconds standing by, quiet spectators. Mathew« is QQ MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THfi Tlie comments whi.h Mr. Sheridan thought it necessary to make upon this narrative have been found in an unfinished state among his papers ; and though they do not, as far as they go, dis- prove anything material in its statements, (except, perhaps, with respect to the nature of the wounds which he received,) yet, iSs containing some curious touches of character, and as a docu- ment which he himself thought worth preserving, it is here in- serted. " To William Barnett, Esq, " Sir, " It has always appeared to me so impertinent for individuals to appeal to the public on transactions merely private, that I own the most apparent necessity does not prevent my entering into such a dispute without an awkward consciousness of its impro- priety. Indeed, I am not without some apprehension, that I may have no right to plead your having led the way in my excuse ; as it appears not improbable that some ill-wisher to you, Sir, and the cause you have been engaged in, betrayed you first into this exact narrative^ and then exposed it to the public eye, under pre- tence of vindicating your friend. However, as it is the opinion of some of my friends, that I ought not to suffer these papers to pass wholly unnoticed, I shall make a few observations on them with that moderation which becomes one who is highly conscious of the impropriety of staking his single assertion against the ap- parent testimony of three. This, I say, would be an impropriety, as I am supposed to write to those who are not acquainted with the parties. I had some time ago a copy of these papers from Captain Wade, who informed me that they were lodged in his hands, to be made public only by judicial authority. I wrote to but slightly wounded, and is since gone off." The Bath Chronicle, on the day after the duel, (July 2d,) gives the particulars thus : " This morning, about three o'clock, a second duel was fought with swords, between Captain Mathews and Mr. R. Sheridan, on Kings- iown, near this city, in consequence of their former dispute respecting an amiable young lady, which Mr. M. considered as improperly adjusted ; Mr. S. having, since their first rencontre, declared his sentiments respecting Mr. M. in a manner that tlie former thought required satisfaction. !Mr. Sheridan received three or four wounds in his breast and sides, and now lies very ill. Mr. M. was only slightly wounded, and left this city soon after the affair was over." RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 67 you, Sir, on the subject, to have from yourself an avowal that the account was yours ; but as I received no answer, I have rea- son to compliment you with the supposition that you are not the author of it. However, as the name William Barnett is sub- scribed to it, you must accept my apologies for making use of that as the ostensible signature cf the writer — Mr. Paumier like- wise (the gentleman w^ho went out with me on that occasion in the character of a second) having assented to everything material in it, I shall suppose the w^hole account likewise to be his ; and as there are some circumstances which could come from no one but Mr. Mathews, I shall (without meaning to take from its au- thority) suppose it to be Mr. Mathews's also. " As it is highly indifferent to me whether the account I am to observe on be considered as accurately true or not, and I believe it is of very little consequence to any one else, I shall make those observations just in the same manner as I conceive any indiffer- ent person of common sense, who should think it worth his while to peruse the matter with any degree of attention. In this light, the truth of the articles which are asserted under Mr. Barnett's name is w^hat I have no business to meddle with ; but if it should appear that this accurate narrative frequently contradicts itself as well as all probability, and that there are some positive facts against it, wb'ch do not depend upon any one's assertion, 1 must repeat that I shall either compliment Mr. Barnett's judgment, in supposing it not his, or his humanity in proving the narrative to partake of that confusion and uncertainty, which his well-wishers will plead to have possessed him in the transaction. On this ac- count, what I shall say on the subject need be no further address- ed to you ; and, indeed, it is idle, in my opinion, to address even the publisher of a newspaper on a point that can concern so few, and ought to have been forgotten by them. This you must take as my excuse for having neglected the matter so long. " The first point in Mr. Barnett's narrative that is of the least consequence to take notice of, is, w^here Mr. M. is represented as havmg repeatedly signified his desire to*use pistols prior to swords^ 68 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE from a conviction that Mr. Sheridan would run in upon him, and an ungentlemanlike scuffle probably be the consequence. This is one of those articles which evidently must be given to Mr. Ma- thews : for, as Mr. B.'s part is simply to relate a matter of fact, of which he was an eye-witness, he is by no means to answer for Mr. Mathews's private convictions. As this insinuation bears an obscure allusion to a past transaction of Mr. M.'s, I doubt not but he will be surprised at my indifference in not taking the trou- ble even to explain it. However, I cannot forbear to observe here, that had I, at the period which this passage alludes to, known what was the theory which Mr. M. held of gentlemanly scuffle^ I might, possibly, have been so unhappy as to put it out of his power ever to have brought it into practice. " Mr. B. now charges me with having cut short a number of pretty preliminaries, concerning which he was treating with Cap- tain Paumier, by drawing my sword, and, in a vaunting manner, desiring Mr. M. to draw. Though I acknowledge (with deference to these gentlemen) the full right of interference which seconds have on such occasions, yet I may remind Mr. B. that he was ac- quainted with my determination with regard to pistols before we went on the Down, nor could I have expected it to have been pro- posed. ' Mr. M. drew ; Mr. S. advanced, &;c. :' — here let me re- mind Mr. B. of a circumstance, which I am convinced his memory will at once acknowledge." This paper ends here : but in a rougher draught of the same letter (for he appears to have studied and corrected it with no common care) the remarks are continued, in a hand not very legible, thus : " But Mr. B. here represents me as drawing my sword in a vaunting manner. This I take to be a reflection ; and can only say, that a person's demeanor is generally regulated by their idea of their antagonist, and, for what I know, I may now be writing in a vaunting style. Here let me remind Mr. B. of an omission, which, I am convinced, nothing but want of recollection could oc- casion, yet which is a material point in an exact account of such RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 69 an affair, nor does it reflect in the least on Mr. M. Mr. M. could not possibly have drawn his s\Yord on my calling to him, as * *****^ * ****! " M. B.'s account proceeds, that I ' advanced first on Mr. M.,' &;c. &c. ; 'which, (says Mr. B.) I imagine, happened from the resistance it met with from one of those parts ; but whether it was broke by that, or on the closing, I cannot aver.' How strange i§ the confusion here ! — First, it certainly broke ; — whether it broke against rib or no, doubtful ; — then, indeed, whether it broke at all, uncertain. * * * * But of all times Mr. B. could not have chosen a worse than this for Mr. M.'s sword to break ; for the relating of the action unfortunately carries a contradiction with it ;- — since if, on closing, Mr. M. received me on his point, it is not possible for him to have made a lunge of such a nature as to break his sword against a rib-bone. But as the time chosen is unfortunate, so is the place on which it is said to have broke, — as Mr. B. might have been informed, by inquiring of the surgeons, that I had no wounds on my breast or rib with the point of a sword, they being the marks of the jagged and blunted part." He wus driven from the ground to the White-Hart ; where Ditcher and Sharpe, the most eminent surgeons of Bath, attended and dressed his w^ounds, — and, on the following day, at the re- quest of his sisters, he was carefully removed to his own home. The newspapers which contained the account of the affliir, and even stated that Sheridan's life was in danger, reached the Lin- leys at Oxford, during the performance, but were anxiously con cealed from Miss Linley by her father, who knew that the intel- ligence would totally disable her from appearing. Some persons who were witnesses of the performance that day, still talk of the touching effect which her beauty and singing produced upon all present — aware, as they were, that a heavy calamity had be- fallen her, of which she herself was perhaps the only one in the assembly ignorant. i In her way back to Bath, she was met at some miles from the town by a Mr. Panton, a clergyman, long intimate with the t II IS impossible to make any connecled sense of ihe passage that follow.f. 70 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE family, who, taking her from her father's chaise into his own, em- ployed the rest of the journey in cautiously breaking to her the particulars of the alarming event that had occurred. Notwith- standing this precaution, her feelings were so taken by surprise, that in the distress of the moment, she let the secret of her heart escape, and passionately exclaimed, " My husband ! my hus- band !" — demanding to see him, and insisting upon her right as his wife to be near him, and watch over him day and night. Her entreaties, however, could not be complied wdth ; for the elder Mr. Sheridan, on his return from town, incensed and grieved at the catastrophe to which his son's imprudent passion had led, re- fused for some time even to see him, and strictlv forbade all in- tercourse between his daughters and the Linley family. But the appealing looks of a brother lying wounded and unhappy, had more power over their hearts than the commands of a father, and they, accordingly, contrived to communicate intelligence of the lovers to each other. In the following letter, addressed to him by Charles at this time, we can trace that difference between the dispositions of the bro- thers, which, with every one except their father, rendered Richard, in spite of all his faults, by far the most popular and beloved of the two. "Dear Dick, London, July 3c?, 1772. " It w^as with the deepest concern I received the late ac- counts of you, though it was somewhat softened by the assurance of your not being in the least danger. You cannot conceive the uneasiness it occasioned to my father. Both he and I were re- solved to believe the best, and to suppose you safe, but then w^e neither of us could approve of the cause in which you suffer. All your friends here condemned you. You risked every thing, where you had nothing to gain, to give your antagonist the thing he wished, a chance for recovering his reputation. Your courage was past dispute : — he wanted to get rid of the contemptible opin- ion he was held in, and you were good-natured enough to let him do it at your expense. It is not now a time to scold, but all BIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 71 your friends were of opinion you could, with the greatest pro- priety, have refused to meet him. For my part, I shall suspend my judgment till better informed, only I cannot forgive your pre- ferring swords. " I am exceedingly unhappy at the situation I leave you in with respect to money matters, the more so as it is totally out of my power to be of any use to you. Ewart was greatly vexed at the manner of your drawing for the last 20^. — I own, I think with some reason. " As to old Ewart, what you were talking about is absolutely impossible ; he is already surprised at Mr. Linley's long delay, and, indeed, I think the latter much to blame in this respect. I did intend to give you some account of myself since my arrival here, but you cannot conceive how I have been hurried, — even much pressed for time at this present wiiting, I must therefore conclude, with wishing you speedily restored to health, and that if I could make your purse as whole as that will shortly be, I hope, it would make me exceedingly happy. " I am, dear Dick, yours sincerely, "C. F. Sheridan." Finding that the suspicion of their marriage, which Miss Lin- ley's unguarded exclamation had suggested, was gaining ground in the mind of both fathers, — who seemed equally determined to break the tie, if they could arrive at some positive proof of its existence, — Sheridan wrote frequently to his young wife, (who passed most of this anxious period with her relations at Wells,) cautioning her against being led into any acknowledgment, which might further the views of the elders against their happiness. Many methods were tried upon both sides, to ensnare them into a confession of this nature ; but they eluded every effort, and per- sisted in attributing the avowal which had escaped from Miss Linley, before Mr. Panton, and others, to the natural agitation and bewilderment into which her mind was thrown at the in- stant. 72 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE As soon as Sheridan was sufficiently recovered of his wounds * his father, in order to detach him, as much as possible, from the dangerous recollections which continually presented themselves in Bath, sent him to pass some months at Waltham Abbey, in Es- sex, under the care of Mr. and Mrs. Parker of Farm Hill, his most particular friends. In this retirement, where he continued, with but few and short intervals of absence, from August or Sep- tember, 1772, till the spring of the following year, it is probable that, notwithstanding the ferment in which his heart was kept, he occasionally and desultorily occupied his hours in study. Among other proofs of industry, which I have found among his manuscripts, and which may possibly be referred to this period, is an abstract of the History of England — nearly filling a small quarto volume of more than a hundred pages, closely written. I have also found in his early hand-writing (for there was a considerable change in his writing afterwards) a collection of remarks on Sir William Temple's works, which may likewise have been among the fruits of his reading at Waltham Abbey. These remarks are confined chiefly to verbal criticism, and prove, in many instances, that he had not yet quite formed his taste to that idiomatic English, which was afterwards one of the great charms of his own dramatic style. For instance, he ob- jects to the following phrases : — " Then I fell to my task again." — " These things come^ with time, to be habitual." — " By -which these people come to be either scattered or destroyed." — " Which alone could pretend to contest it with them :" (upon which phrase he remarks, " It refers to nothing here :") and the following grace- ful idiom in some verses by Temple : — " Thy busy head can find no gentle rest For thinking on the events,'^ &c. &c. Some of his obervations, however, are just and tasteful. Upon the Essay " Of Popular Discontents," after remarking, that • The Bath Chronicle of the 9th of July has the following paragraph: *It is with gr<3at pleasure we inform our readers that Mr. Sheridan is declared by his surgeon to be put of danger." RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 73 " Sir W. T. opens all his Essays with something as foreign to the purpose as possible," he has the following criticism : — " Page 260, ' Represent misfortunes for faults, and mole-hills for moun- tains^^ — the metaphorical and literal expression too often coupled. P. 262, ' Upon these four wheels the chariot of state may in all appearance drive easy and safe, or at least not be too much shaken by the usual roughness of ways, unequal humors of men^ or any common accidents,' — another instance of the confusion of the metaphorical and literal expression." Among the passages he quotes from Temple's verses, as faulty, is the following : — " that we may see. Thou art indeed the empress of the sea.'''' It is curious enough that he himself was afterwards guilty of nearly as illicit a rhyme in his song " When 'tis night," and al- ways defended it : — " But when the fight^s begun, Each serving at his ^wti." Whatever grounds there may be for referring these labors jf Sheridan to the period of his retirement at Waltham Abbey, there are certainly but few other intervals in his life that could be selected as likely to have afforded him opportunities of read- ing. Even here, however, the fears and anxieties that beset him were too many and incessant to leave much leisure for the pur- suits of scholarship. However, a state of excitement may be favorable to the development of genius — which is often of the nature of those seas, that become more luminous the more thev are agitated, — for a student, a far different mood is necessary ; and in order to reflect with clearness the images that study pre- sents, the mind should have its surface level and unruffled. The situation, indeed, of Sheridan was at tliis time particu- larly perplexing. He had won the heart, and even hand, of the woman he loved, yet saw his hopes of possessing her farther off than ever. He had twice risked his life against an unworthy ypL. I. 4 74 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE iintagonist, yet found the vindication of his honor still incomplete, from the misrepresentations of enemies, and the yet more mis- chievous testimony of friends. He felt within himself all the proud consciousness of genius, yet, thrown on the world with- out even a profession, looked in vain for a channel through which to direct its energies. Even the precarious hope, which his fa- ther's favor held out, had been purchased by an act of duplicity which his conscience could not approve ; for he had been mduced, with the view, perhaps, of blinding his father's vigilance, not only to promise that he would instantly give up a pursuit so unpleas- ing to him, but to take " an oath equivocal" that he never would marry Miss Linley. The pressure of these various anxieties upon so young and so ardent a mind, and their effects in alternately kindling and damp- ing its spirit, could only have been worthily described by him who felt them ; and there still exist some letters which he wrote during this time, to a gentleman well known as one of his earli- est and latest friends. I had hoped that such a picture, as these letters must exhibit, of his feelings at that most interesting period of his private life, would not have been lost to the present work. But scruples — over-delicate, perhaps, but respectable, as founded upon a systematic objection to the exposure of any papers, re- ceived under the seal of private friendship — forbid the publica- tion of these precious documents. The reader must, therefore, be satisfied with the few distant glimpses of their contents, which are afforded by the answers of his correspondent, found among the papers entrusted to me. From these it appears, that through alJ his letters the same strain of sadness and despondency pre- vailed, — sometimes breaking out into aspirings of ambition, and sometimes rising into a tone of cheerfulness, which but ill concealed the melancholy under it. It is evident also, and not a little remarka- ble, that in none of these overflowings of his confidence, had he as yet suffered the secret of his French marriage with Miss Linley to escape ; and that his friend accordingly knew but half the wretched peculiarities of his situation. Like most lovers, too, imagining that every one who approached his mistress must RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRLN-SLEY SHERIDAN. 75 be equally intoxicated with her beauty as himself, he seems anx- iously to have cautioned his young correspondent (who occasional- ly saw her at Oxford and at Bath) against the danger that lay in such irresistible charms. From another letter, where the "writer refers to some message, which Sheridan had requested liim to deliver to Miss Linley, we learn, that she was at this time so strictly watched, as to be unable to achieve — what to an ingenious woman is seldom difficult — an answer to a letter which her lover had contrived to convey to her. It was at first the intention of the elder Mr. Sheridan to send his daughters, in the course of this autumn, under the care of their brother Richard, to France. But, fearing to entrust them to a guardian w^ho seemed himself so much in need of direction, he altered his plan, aifd, about the beginning of October, having formed an engagement for the ensuing winter with the manager of the Dublin theatre, gave up his house in Bath, and set out with his daughters for Ireland. At the same time Mr. Grenville, (afterwards Marquis of Buckingham,) who had passed a great part of this and the preceding summer at Bath, for the purpose of receiving instruction from Mr. Sheridan in elocution, went also to Dublin on a short visit, accompanied by Mr. Cleaver, and by his brother Mr. Thomas Grenville — between whom and Richard Sheridan an intimacy had at this period commenced, which con- tinued with .uninterrupted cordiality ever after. Some time previous to the departure of the elder Mr. Sheridan for Ireland, having taken before a magistrate the depositions of the postillions who were witnesses of the duel at Kingsdown, he had earnestly entreated of his son to join him in a prosecution against Mathews, whose conduct on the occasion he and others considered as by no means that of a fair and honorable antago- nist. It was in contemplation of a measure of this nature, that the account of the meeting already given was drawn up by Mr. Barnett, and deposited in the hands of Captain Wade. Though Sheridan refused to join in legal proceedings — from an unwil- lingness, perhaps, to keep Miss Linley 's name any longer afloat upon public conversation — yet this revival of the subject^ 76 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE and the conflicting statements to which it gave rise, produced naturally in both parties a relapse of angry feelings, which was very near ending in a third (Tuel between them. The authen- ticity given by Captain Paumier's name to a narrative which Sheridan considered false and injurious, was for some time a source of considerable mortification to him ; and it must be owned, that the helpless irresolution of this gentleman during the duel, and his weak acquiescence in these misrepresentations afterwards, showed him as unfit to be trusted with the life as with the character of his friend. How nearly this new train of misunderstanding had led to another explosion, appears from one of the letters already re- ferred to, written in December, and directed to Sheridan at the Bedford Coffee-house, Co vent Garden, in which the writer ex- presses the most friendly and anxious alarm at the intelligence which he has just received, — implores of Sheridan to moderate his rage, and reminds him how often he had resolved never to have any concern with Mathews again. Some explanation, however, took place, as we collect from a letter dated a few days later ; and the world was thus spared not only such an instance of inveteracy, as three duels between the same two men would have exhibited, but, perhaps, the premature loss of a life to which we are indebted, for an example as noble in its excite- ments, and a lesson as us'^ful in its warnings, as ever genius and its errors have bequeathed to mankind. The following Lent, Miss Linley appeared in the oratorios at Co vent Garden ; and Sheridan, who, from the nearness of his retreat to London, (to use a phrase of his owai, repeated in one of his friend's letters), "trod upon the heels of perilous proba- bilities," though prevented by the vigilance of her father from a private interview, had frequent opportunities of seeing her in public. Among many other stratagems which he contrived, for the purpose of exchanging a few words with her, he more than once disguised himself as a hackney-coachman, and drove her home from the theatre. It appears, however, that a serious misunderst-anding at this RIGHT HON. KiCHARD BRINSLEY SHERlDAK-. 77 time occurred between them, — originating probably in some of those paroxysms of jealousy, into which a lover like Sheridan must have been contmually thrown, by the numerous admirers and pursuers of all kinds, which the beauty and celebrity of his mistress attracted. Among various alliances invented for her by the public at this period, it was rumored that she w^as about to be married to Sir Thorn as^Clarges; and in the Bath Chronicle of April, 1773, a correspondence is given as authentic between her and " Lord Grosvenor," which, though pretty evidently a fabrication, yet proves the high opinion entertained of the purity of her character. The correspondence is thus introduced, in a letter to the editor: — "The following letters are confidently said to have passed between Lord G r and the celebrated English syren, Miss L y. I send them to you for publica- tion, not w^ith any view to increase the volume of literary scan- dal, which, I am sorry to say, at present needs no assistance, but with the most laudable intent of setting an example for our modern belles, by holding out the character of a young woman, who, notwithstanding the solicitations of her profession, and the flattering example of higher ranks, has added incorruptible virtue to a number of the most elegant qualifications." Whatever may have caused the misunderstanding between her and her lover, a reconcilement was with no great difficulty effect- ed, by the mediation of Sheridan's young friend, Mr. Ewart ; and, at length, after a series of stratagems and scenes, which con- vinced Mr. Linley that it was impossible much longer to keep them asunder, he consented to their union, and on the 13th of April, 1773, they were married by license* — Mr. Ewart being at the same time wedded to a young lady with whom he also had eloped clandestinely to France, but was now enabled, by the for- giveness of his father, to complete this double triumph of friend- ship and love. A curious instance of the indolence and procrastinating habits of Sheridan used to be related by Woodfall, as having occurred * Thus announced in the Gentleman's Magazine :— "Mr. Sheridan of the Teniple to the celebrated Miss Linley of Bath." 78 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE about this time. A statement of his conduct in the duels having appeared in one of the Bath papers, so false and calumnious as to require an immediate answer, he called upon Woodfall to request that his paper might be the medium of it. But wish- ing, as he said, that the public should have the whole matter fairly before them, he thought it right that the offensive state- ment should first be inserted, and "in a day or two after be fol- lowed by his answer, which would thus come with more rele- vancy and effect. In compliance wdth his wish, Woodfall lost not a moment in transcribing the calumnious article into his columns — not doubting, of course, that the refutation of it would be furnished with still greater eagerness. Day after day, how- ever, elapsed, and, notwithstanding frequent applications on the one side, and promises on the other, not a line of the answer was ever sent by Sheridan, — who, having expended all his activity in assisting the circulation of the poison, had not industry enough lefl to supply the antidote. Throughout his whole life, indeed, he but too consistently acted upon the principles, w^hich the first' Lord Holland used playfully to impress upon his son : — " Never do to-day what you can possibly put off till to-morrow^, nor ever do, yourself, what you can get any one else to do for you." RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 79 CHAPTER III. domestic circumstances. — fragments of essays found among his papers. — comedy of '* the rivals." — an- swer to *' taxation no tyranny." — farce of ^' st. Patrick's day." A FEW weeks previous to his marriage, Sheridan had been en- tered a student of the Middle Temple. It was not, however, to be expected that talents like his, so sure of a quick return of fame and emolument, would wait for the distant and dearly-earned emoluments which a life of labor in this profession promises. Nor, indeed, did his circumstances admit of any such patient spe- culation. A part of the sum which Mr. Long had settled upon Miss Linley, and occasional assistance from her father (his own Having withdrawn all countenance from him), were now the only resources, besides his own talents, left him. The celebrity of Mrs. Sheridan as a singer was, it is true, a ready source of wealth ; and offers of the most advantageous kind were pressed upon them, by managers of concerts both in town and country. But with a pride and delicacy, which received the tribute of Dr. Johnson's praise, he rejected at once all thoughts of allowing her to re-ap- pear in public ; and, instead of profiting by the display of his wife's talents, adopted the manlier resolution of seeking an inde- pendence by his own. An engagement had been made for her some months before by her father, to perform at the music-meet- ing that was to take place at Worcester this summer. But Sher- idan, who considered that his own claims upon her had superse- ded all others, would not suffer her to keep this engagement. How decided his mind was upon the subject will appear from the following letter, written by him to Mr. Linley about a month 80 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE after his marriage, and containing some other interesting particu- lars, that show the temptations with which his pride had, at this time, to struggle : — " Dear Sir, JEast Burnham, May 12, 1773. " I purposely deferred writing to you till I should have settled all matters in London, and in some degree settled ourselves at our little home. Some unforeseen delays prevented my finishing wi^h Swale till Thursday last, when everything was concluded. I likewise settled with him for his own account, as he brought it to me, and, for di friendly bill, it is pretty decent. — Yours of the 3d instant did not reach me till yesterday, by reason of its miss- ing us at Morden. As to the principal point it treats of, I had given my answer some days ago, to Mr. Isaac of Worcester. He had enclosed a letter to Storace for my wife, in which he dwells much on the nature of the agreement you had made for her eight months ago, and adds, that ' as this is no new application, but a request that you (Mrs. S.) will fulfil a positive engagement, the breach of which would prove of fatal consequence to our meeting, I hope Mr. Sheridan will think his honor in some degree concerned in fulfilling it.' — Mr. Storace, in order to enforce Mr. Isaac's argument, showed me his letter on the same subject to him, which begins with saying, ' We must have Mrs. Sheridan, somehow or other, if possible !' — the plain English of which is that, if her husband is not willing to let her perform, we will per- suade him that he acts dishonorably in preventing her from ful- filling a positive engagement. This I conceive to be the very worst mode of application that could have been taken ; as there really is not common sense in the idea that my honor can be concerned in my wife's fulfilling an engagement, which it is impossible she should ever have made. — ^Nor (as I wrote to Mr. Isaac) can you, who gave tlie promise, whatever it was, be in the least charged with the breach of it, as your daughter's marriage was an event which must always have been looked to by them as quite as na- tural a period to your right over her as her death. And, in my opinion, it would have been just as reasonable to have applied to tllGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 81 you to fulfil your engagement in the latter case as in the former. As to the imprudence of declining this engagement, I do not think, even were we to suppose that my wife should ever on any occa- sion appear again in public, there would be the least at present. For instance, I have had a gentleman with me from Oxford (where they do not claim the least right as from an engagement), who has endeavored to place the idea of my complimenting the University with Betsey's performance in the strongest light of advantage to me. This he said, on my declining to let her perform on any agreement. He likewise informed me, that he had just left Lord North (the Chancellor), who, he assured me, would look upon it as the highest compliment, and had expressed himself so to him. Now, should it be a point of inclination or convenience to me to break my resolution with regard to Betsey's performing, there surely would be more sense in obliging Lord North (and probably from his own application) and the University, than Lord Coventry and Mr. Isaac. For, were she to sing at Worcester, there would not be the least compliment in her performing at Oxford. Indeed, they would have a right to claira it — particu- larly, as that is the mode of application they have chosen from Worcester. I have mentioned the Oxford matter merely as an argument, that I can have no kind of inducement to accept of the proposal from Worcester. And, as I have written fully on the subject to Mr. Isaac, I think there will be no occasion for you to give any further reasons to Lord Coventry — only that I am sorry I cannot accept of his proposal, civilities, &c. &c., and refer him for my motives to Mr. Isaac, as what I have said to you on the subject I mean for you only, and, if more remains to be argued on the subject in general, we must defer it till we meet, which you have given us reason to hope will not be long first. " As this is a letter of business chiefly, I shall say little of our situation and arrangement of affairs, but that I think we are as happy as those who wish us best could desire. There is but one thing that has the least weight upon me, though it is one I was prepared for. But time, while it strengthens the other blessings we possess, will, I hope, add that to the number. You will know VOL. I. 4* 82 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF TMl that I speak with regard to my father. Betsey informs me you have written to him again — have you heard from him ? * * " 1 should hope to hear from you very soon, and I assure you, you shall now find me a very exact correspondent ; though I hope you will not give me leave to confirm my character in that re- spect before we meet. " As there is with this a letter for Polly and you, I shall only charge you with mine and Betsey's best love to her, mother, and Tom, &c. &;c., and believe me your sincere friend and affectionate son, " R. B. Sheridan." At East Burnham, from whence this letter is dated, they were now living in a small cottage, to which they had retired imme- diately on their marriage, and to which they often looked back with a sigh in after-times, w^hen they were more prosperous, but less happy. It w^as during a very short absence from this cot- tage, that the following lines w^ere written by him : — ■ '' Teach me, kind Hymen, teach, for thou Must be my only tutor now, — Teach me some innocent employ, That shall the hateful thought destroy, That I this whole long night must pass , In exile from my love's embrace. Alas, thou hast no wings, oh Time !* It was some thoughtless lover's rhyme, Who, writing in his Chloe's view. Paid her the compliment thi'ough you. For had he, if he truly lov'd. But once the pangs of absence prov'd. He'd cropt thy wings, and, in their stead, Have painted thee with heels of lead. But His the temper of the mind. Where we thy regulator find. Still o'er the gay and o'er the young With unfelt steps you flit along, — ♦ It will be perceived thai the eiglu following lines arc the fouDdalion of the 8onff »^ What bard, oh Time, " in the Duenna. HIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 83 As Virgil'S nymph o'er ripeii'd corn, With such ethereal haste was borne, That every stock, with upright head, Denied the pressure of her tread. But o'er the wretched, oh, how slow And heavy sweeps thy scythe of woe 1 Oppress'd beneath each stroke they bow, Thy course engraven on their brow : A day of absence shall consume The glow of youth and manhood's bloom, And one short night of anxious fear Shall leave the wrinkles of a year. For me who, when Fm happy, owe No thanks to fortune that I'm so, Who long have learned to look at one Dear object, and at one alone. For all the joy, or all the sorrow. That gilds the day, or threats the morrow, I never felt thy footsteps light, But w^hen sweet love did aid thy flight, And, banish'd from his blest dominion, I cared not for thy borrowed pinion. True, she is mine, and, since she's mine, At trifles I should not repine 5 But oh, the miser's real pleasure Js not in knowing he has treasure ; He must behold his golden store, And feel, and count his riches o'er. Thus I, of one dear gem possest, And in that treasure only blest. There every day would seek delight, And clasp the casket every night." Towards the winter they went to lodge for a short time with Storace, the intimate friend of Mr. Linley, and in the following year attained that first step of independence, a house to them- selves; Mr. Linley having kindly supplied the furniture of their new residence, which was in Orchard-Street, Portman-Square. During the summer of 1774, they passed some time at Mr. Can- ning's and Lord Coventry's ; but, so little did these visits inter- fere with the literary industry of Sheridan, that, as appears from 84 M:EMoiiis OF the life of the the following letter, written to Mr. Linley in November, he had not only at that time finished his play of the Rivals, but was on the point of " sending a book to the press :" — « Deah Sir, " Nov. 11 th 1114.. " If I were to attempt to maive as many apologies as my long omission in wa^iting to you requires, I should have no room for any other subject. One excuse only I shall bring forward, w^hich is, that I have been exceedingly employed, and I believe very profitably. However, before I explain how, I must ease my mind on a subject that much more nearly concerns me than any point of business or profit. I must premise to you that Betsey is now very well, before I tell you abruptly that she has encoun- tered another disappointment, and consequent indisposition. * ^ * How^ever, she is now getting entirely over it, and she shall never take any journey of the kind again. I inform you of this now, that you may not be alarmed by any accounts from some other quarter, which might lead you to fear she was going to have such an illness as last year, of which I assure you, upon my honor, there is not the least apprehension. If I did not write now, Betsey w^ould write herself, and in a day she will make you quite easy on this head. " I have been very seriously at work on a book, which I am just now sending to the press, and which I think will do me some credit, if it leads to nothing else. However, the profitable affair is of another nature. There will be SLjComedy of mine in rehearsal at Covent-Garden within a few days. I did not set to work on it till within a few days of my setting out for Crome^ so you may think I have not, for these Jast six weeks, been very idle. I have done it at Mr. Harris's (the manager's) own re- quest ; it is now complete in hi» hands, and preparing for the stage. He, and some of his friends also who have heard it, assure me in the most flattering terms that there is not a doubt of its success. It will be very well played, and Harris tells me that the least shilling I shall get (if it succeeds) will be six hui>- RIGHT HON. KICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 85 dred pounds. I shall make no secret of it towards the time of representation, that it may not lose any support my friends can give it. I had not written a line of it two months ago, except a scene or two, which I believe you have seen in an odd act of a little farce. '' Mr. Stanley was with me a day or two ago on the subject of the oratorios. I found Mr. Smith has declined, and is retiring to Bath. Mr. Stanley informed me that on his applying to the king for the coiftinuance of his favor, he was desired by his Majesty to make me an offer of Mr. Smith's situation and part- nership in them, and that he should continue his protection, &c. I declined the matter very civilly and very peremptorily. I should imagine that Mr. Stanley would apply to you ; — I started the subject to him, and said you had twenty Mrs. Sheridans more. However, he said verv little : — if he does, and vou wish to make an alteration in your system at once, I should think you may stand in Smith's place. I would not listen to him on any other terms, and I should think the King might be made to signify his pleasure for such an arrangen:ient. On this you will reflect, and if any way strikes you that I can move in it, I need not add how happy I shall be in its success. ^ * ^ * ¥: « « " I hope you will let me have the pleasure to hear from you soon, as I shall think any delay unfair, — unless you can plead that you are writing an opera, and a folio on music besides. Ac- cept Betsey's love and duty. '' Your sincere and affectionate " R. B. Sheridan." What the book here alluded to was, I cannot with anv ac- curacy ascertain. Besides a few sketches of plays and poems, of which I shall give some account in a subsequent Chapter, there exist among his papers several fragments of Essays and Letters, all of which — including the unfinished plays and poems — must have been written by him in the interval between 1769, when 86 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE he left Harrow, and the present year ; though at what precise dates during that period there are no means of judging. Among these there are a few political Letters, evidently de- signed for the newspapers ; — some of them but half copied out, and probably never sent. One of this description, which must have been written immediately on his leaving school, is a piece of irony against the Duke of Grafton, giving reasons why that nobleman should not lose his head, and, under the semblance of a defence, exaggerating all the popular charges against him. The first argument (he says) of the Duke's adversaries, " is founded on the regard which ought to be paid to justice, and on the good effects which, they affirm, such an example would have, in suppressing the ambition of any future minister. But if I can prove that his n:iight be made a much greater example of by being suffered to live, I think I may, without vanity, affirm that their whole argument will fall to the ground. By pursuing the methods which they propose, viz. chopping off his 's head, I allow the impression would be stronger at first ; but we should consider how soon that wears off. h] indeed, his 's crimes were of such a nature, as to entitle his head to a place on Tempk- Bar, I should allow some weight to their argument. But, in the present case, we should reflect how apt mankind are to relent after they have inflicted punishment ;- — so that, perhaps, the same men who would have detested the noble Lord, while alive and in prosperity, pointing him as a scarecrow to their children, miight, afler being witnesses to the miserable fate that had overtaken him, begin m their hearts to pity him ; and from the fickleness so common to human nature, perhaps, by way of compensation, ac- quit him of part of his crimes ; insinuate that he was dealt hardly with, and thus, by the remembrance of their compassion, on this occasion, be led to show more indulgence to any future offender in the same circumstances." There is a clearness of thought and style here very remarkable in so young a writer. In afiectinfT to defend the Duke a«:ainst the charge of fickleness and unpunctuality, he says, '' I think I could bring several in- RIGHT HOK KICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 87 stances which should seem to promise the greatest steadiness and resolution. I have known him make the Council wait, on the business of the whole nation, when he has had an appointment to Newmarket. Surely, this is an instance of the greatest honor ; and, if we see him so punctual in private appointments, must we not conclude that he is infinitely more so in greater matters ? Nay, when W s'^ came over, is it not notorious that the late Lord Mayor went to His Grace on that evening, proposing a scheme which, by securing this fire-brand, might have put an end to all the troubles he has caused ? But His Grace did not see him ; — no, he was a man of too much honor ; — he had promised that evening to attend Nancy Parsons to Ranelagh, and he would not disappoint her, but made three thousand people witnesses of his punctuality." There is another Letter, which happens to be dated (1770), ad- dressed to " Novus," — some writer in Woodfall's Public Adver- tiser, — and appearing to be one of a series to the same corres- pondent. From the few political allusions introduced in this let- ter, (which is occupied chiefly in an attack upon the literary style of '' Novus,") we can collect that the object of Sheridan was to defend the new ministry of Lord North, who had, in the begin- ning of that year, succeeded the Duke of Grafton. Junius was just then in the height of his power and reputation ; and as, in English literature, one great voice always produces a multitude of echoes, it was thought at that time indispensable to every let- ter-writer in a newspaper, to be a close copyist of the style of Junius : of course, our young political tyro followed this " mould of form" as well as the rest. Thus, in addressing his correspon- dent : — " That gloomy seriousness in your style, — that seeming consciousness of superiority, together with the consideration of the infinite pains it must have cost you to have been so elabor- ately wrong, — will not suffer me to attribute such numerous errors to any thing but real ignorance, joined with most consum mate vanity." The following is a specimen of his acuteness in * Wilkes. 88 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE criticising the absurd style of his adversary : — " You leave it ra. ther dubious whether you were most pleased with the glorious opposition to Charles I. or the dangerous designs of that monarch, which you emphatically call ' the arbitrary projects of a Stuart's nature.' What do you mean by the projects of a uishli's nature? A man's natural disposition may urge him to the commission of some actions ; — Nature may instigate and encourage, but I be- lieve you are the first that ever made her a projector." It is amusing to observe, that, while he thus criticises the style and language of his correspondent, his own spelling, in every second Ime, convicts him of deficiency in at least one common branch of literary acquirement : — we find thing always spelt think ; — whether^ where^ and which^ turned into wether^ were^ and wich ; — and double nis and ss almost invariably reduced to " single blessedness." This sign of a neglected education re- mained with him to a very late period, and, in his hasty writing, or scribbling, would occasionally recur to the last. From these Essays for the newspapers it may be seen how early was the bias of his mind towards politics. It was, indeed, the rival of literature in his affections during all the early part of his life, and, at length, — whether luckily for himself or not it is diffi- cult to say, — gained the mastery. There are also among his manuscripts some commencements of Periodical Papers, under various names, " The Detector," " The Dramatic Censor," &c. ; — none of them, apparently, carried be- yond the middle of the first number. But one of the most cu- rious of these youthful productions is a Letter to the Queen, re- commending the establishment of an Institution, for the instruc- tion and maintenance of young females in the better classes of life, who, from either the loss of their parents, or from poverty, are without the means of being brought up suitably to their station. He refers to the asylum founded by Madame de Maintenon, at St. Cyr, as a model, and proposes that the establishment should be placed under the patronage of Her Majesty, and entitled " The Royal Sanctuary." The reader, however, has to arrive at the RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 89 practical part of the. plan, through long and flowery windings of panegyric, on the beauty, genius, and virtue of women, and their transcendent superiority, in every respect, over men. The following sentence will give some idea of the sort of elo- quence with which he prefaces this grave proposal to Her Ma- jesty : — " The dispute about the proper sphere of women is idle. That men should have attempted to draw a line for their orbit, shows that God meant them for comets, and above our jurisdic- tion. With them the enthusiasm of poetry and the idolatry of love is the simple voice of nature." There are, indeed, many pas- sages of this boyish composition, a good deal resembling in their style those ambitious apostrophes with which he afterwards orna- mented his speeches on the trial of Hastings. He next proceeds to remark to Her Majesty, that in those countries where " man is scarce better than a brute, he shows his degeneracy by his treatment of women," and again falls into met- aphor, not very clearly made out : — " The influence that women have over us is as the medium through which the finer Arts act upon us. The incense of our love and respect for them creates the atmosphere of our souls, which corrects and meliorates the beams of knowledge." The following is in a better style : — " However, in savage countries, where the pride of man has not fixed the first dictates of ignorance into law, we see the real effects of nature. The wild Huron shall, to the object of his love, become gentle as his weary rein-deer ; — he shall present to her the spoil of his bow on his knee ; — he shall watch without reward the cave where she sleeps ; — he shall rob the birds for feathers for her hair, and dive for pearls for her neck ; — her look shall be his law, and her beau- ties his worship !" He then endeavors to prove that, as it is the destiny of man to be ruled by woman, he ought, for his own sake, to render her as fit for that task as possible : — " How can we be better employed than in perfecting that which governs us ? The brighter they are, the more we shall be illumined. Were the minds of all women cultivated by inspiration, men would become wise of course. They are a sort of pentagraphs with which na- 90 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE ture writes on the heart of man ; — what she delineates on the ori ginal map will appear on the copy." In showing how much less women are able to struggle against adversity than men, he says, — " As for us, we are born in a state of warHire with poverty and distress. The sea of adversity is our natural element, and he that will not buffet with the billows de- serves to sink. But you, oh you, by nature formed of gentler kind, can you endure the biting storm ? shall you be turned to the nipping blast, and not a door be open to give you shelter f After describing, with evident seriousness, the nature of the institution of Madame de Maintenon, at St. Cyr, he adds the fol- lowing strange romantic allusion : " Had such a charity as I have been speaking of existed here, the mild Paithenia and my poor Laura would not have fallen into untimely graves." The practical details of his plan, in which it is equally evident that he means to be serious, exhibit the same flightiness of language and notions. The King, he supposes, would have no objection to " grant Hampton-Court, or some other palace, for the purpose ;" and " as it is (he continues, still addressing the Queen) to be immediately under your majesty's patronage, so should your majesty be the first member of it. Let the constitution of it be like that of a university, Your Majesty, Chancellor ; some of the first ladies in the kingdom sub-chancellors ; w^hose care it shall be to provide instructors of real merit. The classes are to be distinguished by age — none by degree. For, as their qualifica- tion shall be gentility, they are all on a level. The instructors shall be women, except for the languages. Latin and Greek should not be learned ; — the frown of pedantry destroys the blush of humility. The practical part of the sciences, as of as- tronomy, &c., should be taught. In history they would find that there are other passions in man than love. As for novels, there are some I would strongly recommend; but romances infi- nitely more. The one is a representation of the effects of the passions as they should be, though extravagant ; the other, as they are. The latter is falsely called nature, and is a picture of de- praved and corrupted society ; the other is the glow of nature. I RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 91 vvould therefore exclude all novels that show human nature de- praved : — however well executed, the design will disgust." He concludes by enumerating the various good effects which the examples of female virtue, sent forth from such an institution, would produce upon the manners and morals of the other sex ; and in describing, among other kinds of coxcombs, the cold, courtly man of the world, uses the following strong figure: "They are so clipped, and rubbed, and polished, that God's image and in- scription is worn from them, and when He calls in his coin. He will no longer know them for his own." There is still another Essay, or rather a small fragment of an Essay, on the letters of Lord Chesterfield, which, I am inclined to think, may have formed a part of the rough copy of the book, announced by him to Mr. Linley as ready in the November of this year. Lord Chesterfield's Letters appeared for the first time in 1774, and the sensation they produced was exactly such as would tempt a writer in quest of popular subjects to avail him- self of it. As the few pages which I have found, and which con- tain merely scattered hints of thoughts, are numbered as high as 232, it is possible that the preceding part of the work may have been sufficiently complete to go into the printer's hands, and that there, — like so many more of his '' unshelled brood," — it died without ever taking wing. A few of these memorandums will, I have no doubt, be acceptable to the reader. ^' Lord C.'S whole system in no one article calculated to make a great man. — A noble youth should be ignorant of the -things he wishes him to know ; — such a one as he wants would be too soon a man. ^* Emulation is a dangerous passion to encourage, in some points, in young men ; it is so linked with envy : if you reproach your son for not surpassing his school-fellows, he will hate those who are before him. Emu- lation not to be encouraged even in virtue. True virtue will, like the Athe- nian, rejoice in being surpassed ; a friendly emulation cannot exist in two minds ; one must hate the perfections in which he is eclipsed by the other ; — thus, from hating the quality in his competitor, he loses the respect for it in himself: — a young man by himself better educated than two. — A Ro- man's emulation was not to excel his countrymen, but to make his country excel : this is the true, the other selfish.— Epaminondas, who reflected on 92 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE the pleasure his success would give his father, most glorious ; — an emula- tion for that purpose, true. " The selfish vanity of the father appears in all these letters — his sending the copy of a letter for his sister. — His object was the praise of his own mode of education. — How much more noble the affection of Morni inOssian ; ' Oh, that the name of Morni,' &c. &c.* '' His frequent directions for constant employment entirely ill founded : — a wise man is formed more by the action of his own thoughts than by continually feeding it. ' Hurry,' he says, ' from play to study ; never be doing nothing.' — I say, ' Frequently be unemployed ; sit and think.' There are on every subject but a few leading and fixed ideas ; their tracks may be traced by your own genius as well as by reading : — a man of deep thought, who shall have accustomed himself to support or attack all he has read, will soon find nothing new : thought is exercise, and the mind, like the body, must not be wearied.'' These last two sentences contain the secret of Sheridan's con- fidence in his own powers. His subsequent success bore him out in the opinions he thus early expressed, and might even have per- suaded him that it was in consequence, not in spite, of his want of cultivation that he succeeded. On the 17th of January, 1775, the comedy of The Rivals was brought out at Covent-Garden, and the following was the cast of the characters on the first night : — Sir Anthony Absolute . Mr. Shuter, Captain Absolute . Mr. Woodward. Falkland . . . . . Mr. Lewis. Acres . . . . . Mr. Quick. Sir Lucius 'Trigger . Mr. Lee. Fag .... . . Mr. Lee Lewes. David , Mr. DuHstal. Coachman . . . , . Mr. Fearon. Mrs. Malaprop . Airs. Green. Lydia Languish . Miss Barsanti. Julia .... . Mrs. Bulkley. Lucy .... . Mrs. Lessingha. * " oil, that the name of Morni were forgot among the people ; that the heroes would only say, 'Behold the father of Gaul !' " Sheridan applied this, more than thirty years after, in talking of his own son, on the hustings of Westminster, and said that, m like manner, he would ask no greater distinction than for men to point at him and say, '' There goes the father of Tom Sheridan." RIGHT HOK. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 93 This comedy, as is well known, failed on its first representa- tion, — chiefly from the bad acting of Mr. Lee in Sir Lucius O'Trigger. Another actor, however, Mr. Clinch, was substituted in his place, and the play being lightened of this and some other incumbrances, rose at once into that high region of public favor, where it has continued to float so buoyantly and gracefully ever since. The following extracts from letters written at that time by Miss Linley (afterwards Mrs. Tickell) to her sister, Mrs. Sher- idan, though containing nothing remarkable, yet, as warm with the feelings of a moment so interesting in Sheridan's literary life, will be read, perhaps, with some degree of pleasure. The slightest outline of a celebrated place, taken on the spot, has often a charm beyond the most elaborate picture finished at a distance. "My dearest Eliza, Bath, " We are all in the greatest anxiety about Sheridan's play, — though I do not think there is the least doubt of its succeeding. I was told last night that it was his own story, and therefore call- ed " The Rivals ;" but I do not give any credit to this intelli- gence. * * * "I am told he will get at least 700Z. for his play." Bath^ January^ 1775. " It is impossible to tell you what pleasure we felt at the re- ceipt of Sheridan's last letter, which confirmed what we had seen in the newspapers of the success of his play. The knowing ones were very much disappointed, as they had so very bad an opinion of its success. After the first night we were indeed all very fearful that the audience would go very much prejudiced against it. But now, there can be no doubt of its success, as it has cer- tainly got through more difficulties than any comedy which has not met its doom the first night. I know you have been very busy in writing for Sheridan, — I don't mean copying^ but compos- ing ; — it's true, indeed ;— syou must not contradict me when I say you wrote the much admired epilogue to the Rivals. How I long 94 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE to read it ! What makes it more certain is, that my father guess- ed it was yours the first time he saw it praised in the paper." This statement respecting the epilogue would, if true, deprive Sheridan of one of the fairest leaves of his poetic crown. It ap- pears, however, to be but a conjecture hazarded at the moment, and proves only the high idea entertained of Mrs. Sheridan's talents by her own family. The cast of the play at Bath, and its success there and elsewhere, are thus mentioned in these letters of Miss Linley : " Bath, February 18, 1775. " What shall I say of The Rivals ! — a compliment must na- turally be expected ; but really it goes so far beyond any tk'ng I can say in its praise, that I am afraid my modesty must keep me silent. When you and I meet I shall be better able to explain myself, and tell you how much I am delighted with it. We >^x- pect to have it here very soon : — it is now in rehearsal, "i )u pretty well know the merits of our principal performers : — I] show you how it is cast. Sir Anthony .... Mr. Edwin. Captain Absolute . . . Mr. Didier. Falkland Mr. Dimond. (A new actor of great merit, and a sweet figure.) Sir Lucius .... Mr. Jackson. Acres Mr. Keasherry. Fag Mr. Brunsdon. Mrs. Malaprop . . . Mrs. Wheeler, MissLydia .... Miss Wheeler. (Literally, a very pretty romantic girl, of seventeen.) Julia Mrs. Didier Lucy Mrs. Brett. There, Madam, do not you think we shall do your Rivals some justice ? I'm con\ inced it won't be done better any where out of London. I don't think Mrs. Mattocks can do Julia very well" HIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAiST. 95 " Bath, March 9, 1775. *' You will know by what you see enclosed in this frank my reason for not answering your letter sooner w^as, that I waited the success of Sheridan's play in Bath ; for, let me tell you, I look upon our theatrical tribunal, though not in quantity^ in quality as good as yours, and I do not believe there was a critic in the whole city that w^as not there. But, in my life, I never saw any thing go off with such uncommon applause. I must first of all inform you that there w^as a very full house : — the play was per- formed inimitably well ; nor did I hear, for the honor of our Bath actors, one single prompt the whole night ; but I suppose the poor creatures never acted w^ith such shouts of applause in their lives, so that they were incited by that to do their best. They lost many of Malaprop's good sayings by the applause : in short, I never saw or heard any thing like it ; — before the actors spoke, they began their clapping. There was a new scene of the N. Parade, painted by Mr. Davis, and a most delightful one it is, I assure you. Every body says, — Bowers in particular, — that yours in town is not so good. Most of the dresses were entirely new, and very handsome. On the whole, I thmk Sheridan is vastly obliged to poor dear Keasberry for getting it up so well. We only wanted a good Julia to have made it quite complete. You must know that it w^as entirely out of Mrs. Didier's style of playing : but I never saw better acting than Keasberry's, — so all the critics agreed." " Bath, August 22d, 1775. " Tell Sheridan his play has been acted at Southampton : — above a hundred people were turned away the first night. They say there never was any thing so universally liked. They have very good success at Bristol, and have played The Rivals several times : — Miss Barsanti, Lydia, and Mrs. Canning, Julia." To enter into a regular analysis of this lively play, the best comment on which is to be found in the many smiling faces that are lighted up around wherever it appears, is a task of criticism that will hardly be thought necessary. With much less wit, it 96 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE exhibits perhaps more humor than The School for Scandal, and the dialogue, though hj no means so pointed or sparkling, is, in this respect, more natural, as coming nearer the current coin of ordinary conversation ; whereas, the circulating medium of The School for Scandal is diamonds. The characters of The Rivals, on the contrary, are not such as occur very commonly in the world ; and, instead of producing striking effects with natural and obvious materials, which is the great art and difficulty of a painter of human life, he has here overcharged most of his per- sons w^ith whims and absurdities, for which the circumstances they are engaged in afford but a very disproportionate vent. Ac- cordingly, for our insight into their characters, we are indebted rather to their confessions than their actions. Lydia Languish, in proclaiming the extravagance of her own romantic notions, prepares us for events much more ludicrous and eccentric, than those in which the plot allows her to be concerned ; and the young lady herself is scarcely more disappointed than we are, at the tameness w^ith which her amour concludes. Among the va- rious ingredients supposed to be mixed up in the composition of Sir Lucius O'Trigger, his love of fighting is the only one whose flavor is very strongly brought out ; and the w^ay ward, captious jealousy of Falkland, though so highly colored in his own repre- sentation of it, is productive of no incident answerable to such an announcement : — the imposture which he practises upon Julia being perhaps weakened in its effect, by our recollection of the same device in the Nut-brown Maid and Peregrine Pickle. The character of Sir Anthony Absolute is, perhaps, the best sustained and most natural of any, and the scenes between him and Captain Absolute are richly, genuinely dramatic. His sur. prise at the apathy with which his son receives the glowing pic- ture which he drawls of the charms of his destined bride, and the* effect of the question, " And which is to be mine, Sir, — the niece or the aunt '?" are in the truest style of humor. Mrs. Malaprop's mistakes, in what she herself calls " orthodoxy," have been often objected to as improbable from a woman in her rank of life ; but, though some of them, it must be owned, are extravagant and far- BtGHT itON. iliCHARt) BRIKSLET SHERIDAN. ^? cical, they are almost all amusing, — and the luckiness of her si- mile, " as headstrong as an allegory on the banks of the Nile," will be acknowledged as long as there are writers to be run away with, by the wilfulness of this truly " headstrong" species of com- position. * Of the faults of Sheridan both in his witty and serious styles — the occasional effort of the one, and the too frequent false finery of the other — some examples may be cited from the dia- logue of this play. Among the former kind is the following elaborate conceit : — '' Falk, Has Lydia changed her mind ? I should have thought her duty and inclination would now have pointed to the same object. '' Ahs. Aj, just as the eyes of a person who squints : when her love-eye was fixed on me, t'other —her eye of duty — was finely obliqued : but when duty bade her point that the same way, off turned t'other on a swivel, and secured its retreat with a frown." This, -though ingenious, is far too labored — and of that false taste by which sometimes, in his graver style, he was seduced into the display of second-rate ornament, the following speeches of Julia afford specimens : — *' Then on the bosom of your wedded Julia, you may lull your keen re- gret to slumbering ; while virtuous love, with a cherub's hand, shall smooth the brow of upbraiding thought, and pluck the thorn from compunction." Again : — *' When hearts deserving happiness would unite their fortunes, virtue would crown them with an unfading garland of modest hurtless flowers : but ill-judging passion wil^ force the gaudier rose into the wreath, whose thorn offends them when its leaves are dropt." But, notwithstanding such blemishes, — and it is easy for the microscopic eye of criticism to discover gaps and inequalities in the finest edge of genius, — this play, from the liveliness of its plot, the variety and whimsicality of its characters, and the ex- quisite humor of its dialogue, is one of the most amusing in the whole range of the drama; and even without the aid of its more splendid successor, The School for Scandal, would have placed Sheridan in the first rank of comic writers. VOL. L 5 98 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE A copy of The Rivals has fallen into my hands, which once belonged to Tiekell, the friend and brother-in-law of Sheridan, and on the margin of which I find written by him in many places his opinion of 'particular parts of the dialogue.* He has also prefixed to it, as coming from Sheridan, the following humorous dedication, which, I take for granted, has never before met the light, and which the reader will perceive, by the allusions in it to 1 he two Whig ministries, could not have been written before the vear 1784 : — "Dedication to Idleness. "My Dear Friend, " If it were necessary to make any apology for this freedom, I know you would think it a suflacient one, that I shall find it easier to dedicate my play to you than to any other person. There is likewise a propriety in prefixing your name to a work begun en- tirely at your suggestion, and finished under your auspices ; and I should think myself wanting in gratitude to you, if I did not take an early opportunity of acknowledging the obligations which I owe you. There was a time — though it is so long ago that I now scarcely remember it, and cannot mention it without com- punction — but there was a time, when the importunity of parents, and the example of a few injudicious young men of my acquaint- ance, had almost prevailed on me to thwart my genius, and pros- titute my abilities by an application to serious pursuits. And if you had not opened my eyes to the absurdity and profligacy of such a perversion of the best gifts of nature, I am by no means clear that I might not have been a w^ealthy merchant or an emi- nent lawyer at this very moment. Nor was it only on my first setting out in life that I availed myself of a connection w^ith you, * Tliose opinions are generally expressed in Iwo or three words, and are, for the mosl part, judicious. Upon Mrs. Malaprop's quotation from Shakspeare, "Hesperian curls," &c, he writes, " overdone — fitter for farce than comecjy." Acres's classification of oaths, "This we call the oath referential,^^ &c. he pronounces to be " very good, but above the speaker's capacity." Of Julia's speech, " Oh woman, how true should be your judgment, when your resolution is so weak !" he remarks, " On the contrary, it seems to be of little consequence whether any person's judgment be weak o' not, who wants resolution to act according to it." . TtlGHT HON. mCHARD BrINSLEY SHERIDAN. 99 though perhaps I never reaped such signal advantages from it as at that critical period. I have frequently since stood in need of your admonitions, and have always found you ready to assist me — though you were frequently brought by your zeal for me into new and awkward situations, and such as you were at first, natu- rally enough, unwilling to appear in. Amongst innumerable other Instances, I cannot omit two, where vou afforded me considerable and unexpected relief, and in fact converted employments, usu- ally attended by dry and disgusting business, into scenes of per- petual merriment and recreation. I allude, as you will easily imagine, to those cheerful hours which I spent in the Secretary of State's office and the Treasury, during all which time you were my inseparable companion, and showed me such a prefe- rence over the rest of my colleagues, as excited at once their envy and admiration. Indeed, it was very natural for them to repine at your having taught me a way of doing business, which it was impossible for them to follow — it was both original and inimitable. "If I were to say here all that I think of your excellencies, I might be suspeQted of flattery ; but I beg leave to refer you for the test of my sincerity to the constant tenor of my life and actions ; and shall conclude with a sentiment of which no one can dispute the truth, nor mistake the application, — that those per^ sons usually deserve most of their friends who expect least of them. " I am, &c. &;c. &c., " R. B. Sheridan." The celebrity which Sheridan had acquired, as the chivalrous lover of Miss Linley, was of course considerably increased by the success of The Rivals ; and, gifted as he and his beautiful wife were with all that forms the magnetism of society, — the power to attract, and the disposition to be attracted, — their life. as may easily be supposed, was one of gaiety both at home and aoroad. Though little able to cope with the entertainments of their wealthy acquaintance, her music and the good company 100 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THiil which his talents drew around him, were an ample repayment for the more solid hospitalities w^hich they received. Among the families visited by them was that of Mr. Coote (Purden), at whose musical parties Mrs. Sheridan frequently sung, accompa- nied occasionally by the two little daughters^ of Mr. Coote, who were the originals of the children introduced into Sir Joshua Reynolds's portrait of Mrs. Sheridan as St. Cecilia. It was here that the Duchess of Devonshire first met Sheridan ; and, as I have been told, long hesitated as to the propriety of inviting to her house two persons of such equivocal rank in society, as he and his w^ife were at that time considered. Her Grace was re- minded of these scruples some years after, when "the player's son" had become the admiration of the proudest and fairest ; and when a house, provided for the Duchess herself at Bath, was left two months unoccupied, in consequence of the social attractions of Sheridan, which prevented a party then assembled at Chatsworth from separating. These are triumphs which, for the sake of all humbly born heirs of genius, deserve to be commemorated. In gratitude, it is said, to Clinch, the actor, for the seasonable reinforcement which he had brought to The Rivals, Mr. Sheridan produced this year a farce called "St. Patrick's Day, or the Scheming Lieutenant," w^hich w^as acted on the 2d of May, and had considerable success. Though we must not look for the usual point of Sheridan in this piece, where the hits of pleasantry are performed with the broad end or mace of his wit, there is yet a quick circulation of humor through the dialogue, — and laughter, the great end of farce, is abundantly achieved by it. The moralizing of Doctor Rosy, and the dispute between the justice's wife and her daughter, as to the respective merits of militia- men and regulars, are highly comic : — * The charm of her singings, as well as her fondness for children, are interestingly de- scribed in a letter to my friend Mr. Rog-ers, from one of the most tasteful writers of the present day : — "Hers was truly ' a voice as of the cherub choir,'^and she was always ready to sing without any pressing. She sung here a great deal, and to my infinite delight ; but what had a particular charm was, that she used to take my daughter, then a child, on her lap, and sing a number of childish songs with such a playfulness of manner, and iuch a sweetness of look and voice, as was quite enchanting." RIGHT HON, RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 101 " Psha, you know, Mamma, I hate militia ofiQcers ; a set of dunghill cocks with spurs on — heroes scratch'd off a church door. No, give me the bold upright youth, who makes love to-day, and has his head shot off to-morrow. Dear ! to think how the sweet fellows sleep on the ground, and fight in silk stockings and lace ruffles. " Mother. Oh barbarous ! to want a husband that may wed you to-day and be sent the Lord knows where before night ; then in a twelve-month, perhaps, to have him come like a Colossus, with one leg at New York and the other at Chelsea Hospital.^' Sometimes, too, there occurs a phrase or sentence, which might be sworn to, as from the pen of Sheridan, any where. Thus, in B. So, Clerimont — we were just wishing for you to enliven us with your wit and agreeable vein. •• Cler. So, Sir Benjamin, I cannot join you. •' Sir B. Why, man, yon look as grave as a young lover the fii'st time he is jilted. ^' Cler. I have some cause to be grave. Sir Benjamin. A word with you all. 1 have JQst received a letter from the country, in which I understand that my sister has suddenly left my uncle's house, and has not since been heard of. •• Lady S. Indeed I and on what provocation? '• Cler. It seems they were urging her a little too hastily to marry some country squire that was not to her taste. ^' Sir B. Positively I love her for her spirit. *• Lady S. And so do I. and would protect her, if I knew where she was. '^ Cler. Sir Benjamin, a word with you — {takes him apart.) I think, sir, we have lived for some years on what the world calls the footing of friends. " Sir B. To my great honor, sir — Well, my deai* friend ? *• Cler. You know that you once paid your addresses to my sister. My uncle disliked you : but I have reason to think you were not indifferent to her. •• Sir B. I believe you are pretty right there ; ut what follows? " Cler. Then I think I have a right to expect an implicit answer from you, whether you are in any respect privy to her elopement? " Sir B. Why. you certainly have a right to ask the question, and I will answer you as sincerely — which is. that though I make no doubt but that * Tliis objection seems to have occurred lo biinstvf ; for one of his memorandums is — "Noi lodrop the lelier, bui lake il from liie maid. RlGHi? HON. RICHARD BRIKSLEY SHERIDAN. 14? she would have gone with me to the world's end. I am at present entirely ignorant of the whole affair. This I declare to you upon my honor — and, what is more, I assure you my devotions are at present paid to another lady — one of your acquaintance, too. '' Cler. {Aside.) Now, who can this other be whom he alludes to ? — I have sometimes thought I perceived a kind of mystery between him and Maria — but I rely on her promise, though, of late, her conduct to me has been strangely reserved. '' Lady S. Why, Clerimont, you seem quite thoughtful. Come with us ; we are going to kill an hour at ombre — your mistress will join us. *^ Cler. Madam, I attend you. ^^ Lady S. {Taking Sir B. aside.) Sir Benjamin, I see Maria is now com- ing to join us — do you detain her awhile, and I will contrive that Clerimont should see you, and then drop this letter. \_Exeunt all but Sir. B. '' Enter Maria. " Mar. I thought the company were here, and Clerimont — '^ Sir B. One, more your slave than Clerimont, is here. '' Mar. Dear Sir Benjamin, I thought you promised me to drop this sub- ject. If I have really any power over you, you will oblige me — '^ Sir B. Power over me ! "^^Tiat is there you could not command me in? Have you not wrought on me to proffer my love to Lady Sneerwell ? Yet though you gain this from me, you will not give me the smallest token of gratitude. *' LJnter Clerimont behind. " Mar. How ca'i I believe your love sincere, when you continue still to importune me ? '' Sir B. I ask but for your friendship, your esteem. * '' Mar. That you shall ever be entitled to — then I may depend upon your honor ? '' Sir B. Eternally — dispose of my heart as you please. '• Mar. Depend upon it, I shall study nothing but its happiness. I need not repeat my caution as to Clerimont ? '' Sir B. No. no. he suspects nothing as yet. • Mar. For, within these few days, I almost believed that he suspects rae. '' Sir B. Never fear, he does not love well enough to be quick sighted ; for just now he taxed me with eloping with his sister. '' Mar. Well, we had now best join the company. [Exeunt. " Cler. So, now — who can ever have faith in woman! D — d deceitful wanton ! why did she not fairly tell me that she was weary of my address- es? that, woman-like, her mind was changed, and another fool succeeded. 148 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE " Enter Lady Sneerwell. " Lady S. Clerimont, "^hy do you leave us? Think of my losing this hand. {Cler. She has no heart) — five mate — (^Cler. Deceitful wanton!)" spadille. *• Cler. Oh yes. ma'am — 'twas very hard. " Lady S But you seem disturbed : and where are Maria and Sir Ben- jamin ? I vow I shall be jealous of Sir Benjamin. " Cler. I dare swear they are together very happy, — but, Lady Sneer- -s^ell — you may perhaps often have perceived that I am discontented with Maria. I ask you to tell me sincerely — have you ever perceived it ? ** Lady S. I wish you would excuse me. " Oler, Nay, you have perceived it — I know you hate deceit. * * ♦ * * * *?/* I have said that the other sketch, m which Sir Peter and Lady Teazle are made the leading personages, was written subsequent- ly to that of which I have just given specimens. Of this, how- ever, I cannot produce any positive proof. There is no date on the m-anuscripts, nor any other certain clue, to assist in deciding the precedency of time between them. In addition to this, the two plans are entirely distinct, — Lady Sneerwell and her asso- ciates being as wholly excluded from the one, as Sir Peter and Lady Teazle are from the other ; so that it is difficult to say, with certainty, which existed first, or at what time the happy thought occurred of blendmg all that was best in each into one. The following are the Dramatis Personam of the second plan : — Sir Rowland Harpur. Plausible. Capt. Harry Plausible. Freeman. Old Teazle.* {Left off trade.) Mrs. Teazle. Maria. ♦ The first intention was, as appears from his introductory speech, to give Old Teazle the Christian name of Solomon. Sheridan was, indeed, most fastidiously changeful in his names. The present Charles Surface was at first Clerimont, then Florival, then Cap- tain Harry Plausible, then Harry Pliant or Pliable, tlien Young Harrier, and then Frank — while his elder brother was successively Plausible, Pliable, Young Pliant, Tom, and, lastly, Joseph Surface. Trip was originally called Spunge ; the name of :f nake was m the earlier sketch Spatter, and, even after the union of the two plots into one, all llie business of the opening scene with Lady Sneerwell, at present transacted by Snake, was given to a character afterwards wholly uniiltcd, Miss Verjuice. BIGHT HON. RICHAED BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 149 From this list of the personages we may conclude that the quarrels of Old Teazle and his wife, the attachment between Maria and one of the Plausibles, and the intrigue of Mrs. Tea- zle with the other, formed the sole materials of the piece, as then constructed.* There is reason too to believe,*from the follow- ing memorandum, which occurs in various shapes through these manuscripts, that the device of the screen was not yet thought of, and that the discovery was to be effected in a very different manner — *' Making Icve to aunt and niece — meeting wrong in the dark — some one coming — locks up the aunt, thinking it to be the niece.' ^ I shall now give a scene or two from the Second Sketch — which shows, perhaps, even more strikingly than the other, the volatilizing and condensing process which his wit must have gone through, before it attained its present proof and flavor. " ACT L— Scene I. " Old Teazle alone, " In the year 44 I married my first wife ; the wedding was at the end of the year— aye, 'twas in December ; yet, before Ann. Dom. 45, 1 repent- ed. A month before we swore we preferred each other to the whole world —perhaps we spoke truth ; but, when we came to promise to love each other till death, there I am sure we lied. Well, Fortune owed me a good turn ; in 48 she died. Ah, silly Solomon, in 52 I find thee married again ! Here, too, is a catalogue of ills — Thomas, l)orn February 12 : Jane born Jan. 6 ; so they go on to the number of five. However, by death I stand credited but by one. Well, Margery, rest her soul I was a queer creature ; when she was gone, I felt awkward at first and being sensible that wi^^hea availed nothing, I often wished for her return. For ten years more I kept my senses and lived single. Oh, blockhead, dolt Solomon! AVithin this twelvemonth thou art married again — married to a woman thirty years younger than thyself ; a fashionable woman. Yet I took her with cau- tion ; she had been educated in the country ; but now she has more ex- travagance than the daughter of an earl, more levity than a Countess. What a defect it is in our laws, that a man who has once been branded in the forehead should be hanged for the second offence. * This was most probably the '' two act Comedy," which he *:inouiiced to Mr. Linley aa preparing for represenlatioii in 1775. 150 'memoirs of the life of the ^^ Enter Jarvls. '' Teaz. T\aio's there ? Well, Jarvis? ^^ Jarv. Sir, there are a number of my mistress's tradesmen without, clamorous for their money. •' Teaz. Are thoife their bills in your hand? '' Jarv. Something about a twentieth part, Sir. '' Teaz. What ! have you expended the hundred pounds I gave you for her use ? *' Jarv. Long ago. Sir, as you may judge by some of the items : — • Paid lh3 coach-maker for lowering the fi-ont seat of the coach.' '• Taz. What the deuce was the matter with the seat? " Jarv. Oh Lord, the carriage was too low for her by a foot when she was dressed — so that it must have been so, or have had a tub at top like a hat- case on a travelling trunk. Well, Sir, {reads.) ' Paid her two footmen half a year's wages, 50/.' '* Teaz. 'Sdeath and fury! does she give her footmen a hundred a year? " Jarv. Yes, Sir, and I think, indeed, she has rather made a good bargain, for they find their own bags and bouquets. '•Teaz. Bags and bouquets for footmen! — halters and bastinadoes!* ^' Jarv. ' Paid for my lady's own nosegays, 50/.' " Teaz. Fifty pounds for flowers ! enough to turn the Pantheon into a green-house, and give a Fete Champetre at Christmas. •^ ^Lady Teaz. Lord, Sir Peter, I wonder you should grudge me the most innocent articles in dress— and then for the expense — flowers cannot be cheaper in winter— -you should find fault with the climate, and not with me. I am sure I wish with all my heart, that it was Spring all the year roun(^, and that roses grew under one's feet. " 8ir P. Nay, but, madam, then you would not wear them ; but try snowballs and icicles. But tell me, madam, how can you feel any satisfac- * Transferred afterwards to Trip and Sir Oliver. f We observe here a change in his plan, with respect both to the titles of 0]d Teazle and his wife, and the presence of the latter d jing this scene, which was evidently not at first intended. From the following skeleton of the scenes o this piece it would appear that (inconsis- tently, in some degree, with my notion of its oeing the two act Comedy announced m 1775) he had an idea of extending the plot through five acts *' Act 1st, Scene 1st, Sir Peter and Stev/ard— 2d, Sir P. and Lady— then Young Pliable. " Act 2d. Sir P. and Lady— Young Harrier— Sur P. and Sir Rowland, and Old Jeremy— Sir R. and Daughter— Y. P. and Y. H. "Act 3d, Sir R., Sir P. and 0. J.— 2d, Y. P. and Company, Y. R. 0. R.— Gd, Y. H. and Maria — Y. H., 0. R. and Young Harrier, to borrow. "Act 4lh, Y. P. and Maria, to borrow his money ; gets away what he had receiVM from his uncle— Y. P. Old Jer. and tradesmer —P. and Lady T." &c. &c. RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLIEY SHERIDAN. 151 tion in wearing these, when you might reflect that one of the rose-buds would have furnished a poor family with a dinner ? •' Lady T. Upon my word, Sir Peter, begging your pardon, that is a very absurd way of arguing. By that rule, why do you indulge in the least superfluity? I dare swear a beggar might dine tolerably on your great-coat, or sup off your laced waistcoat — nay, I dare say, he wouldn't eat your gold-headed cane in a week. Indeed, if you would reserve nothing but necessaries, you should give the first poor man you meet your wig, and walk the streets in your night-cap, which, you know, becomes you very much. *' &W P. Well, go on to the articles. ^' Jarv. {Reading.) 'Fi'uit for my lady's monkey, bl, per week.' ^^ Sir P. Five pounds for a monkey ! — why 'tis a dessert for an alderman ! " Lady T. Why, Sir Peter, would you starve the poor animal ? I dare swear he lives as reasonably as other monkeys do. '' Sir P. Well, well, go on. " Jarv. ' China for ditto'— ^- Sir I\ What, docs he eat out of china? *• Lady T. Repairing china that he breaks — and I am sure no monkey breaks less. " Jarv. ' Paid Mr. Warren for perfumes — milk of roses, 30/.' '' Lady T. Very reasonable. ** Sir P. 'Sdeath, madam, if you had been born to these expenses I should not have been so much amazed ; but I took you, madam, an honest coun- try squire's daughter — " JMdy T, Oh, filthy ; don't name it. Well, heaven forgive my mother, but I do believe my father must have been a man of quality. '' Sir P. Yes, madam, when first I saw you, you were dressed in a pretty figured linen gown, with a bunch of keys by your side ; your occupations, madam, to superintend the poultry ; your accomplishments, a complete knowledge of the family receipt-book — then you sat in a room hung round with fruit in worsted of your own working ; your amusements were to play country-dances on an old spinnet to your father while he went asleep after a fox-chase — to read Tillotson's sermons to your aunt Deborah. These, madam, were your recreations, and these the accomplishments that capti- vated me. Now, forsooth, you must have two footmen to your chair, and a pair of white dogs in a phaeton ; you forget when you used to ride double behind the butler on a docked bay coach-horse Now you must have a French hair-dresser ; do you think you did not look as well when you had your hair combed smooth over a roller? Then you could be content to sit with me, or walk by the side of the — Ha ! Ha I *^ Lady T. True I did ; and, when you asked me if I could love an old fellow, who would deny me nothing, I simpered and said ' Till death.' 152 MEMOIKS OF THE LIFE OF THE ^' Sir P. AVby did you say so ? " Lddi/ T, Shall I tell you the truth? " Sir F, If it is not too great a favor. ^^ Lady T. Why, then, the truth is, I was heartily tired of all these agree* able recreations you have so well remembered, and havlng"a spirit to spend and enjoy fortune, I was determined to marry the first fool I should meet with you made me a wife, for which I am much obliged to you, and if you have a wish to make me more grateful still, make me a widow/''* * * * * * * * ^' Sir P. Then, you never had a desire to please me, or add to my hap- piness ? ^^ Lady T. Sincerely, I never thought about you ; did you imagine that age was catching ? I think you have been overpaid for all you could be- stow on me. Here am I surrounded by half a hundred lovers, not one of whom but would buy a single smile by a thousand such baubles as you grudge me. " Sir P. Then you wish me dead ? " Lady T, You know t do not, for you have made no settlement on me. * * . * * . * * * ^* Sir P. I am but middle-aged. " Lady T, There's the misfortune ; put yourself on, or back, twenty years, and either way I should like you the better. ^ * * * * * * Yes, sir, and then your behavior too was different ; you would dress, and smile, and bow ; fly to fetch me anything I wanted ; praise every thing I did or said : fatigue your stiff face with an eternal grin ; nay, you even com- mitted poetry, and mufiled your harsh tones into a lover's whisper to sing it yourself, so that even my mother said you Avere the smartest old bachelor she ever saw— a billet-doux engrossed on buckram !!!!!! f * ***** * Let girls take my advice and never marry an old bachelor. He must be^ so either because he could find nothing to love in women, or because wo- men could find nothing to love in hiiu." The greater part of this dialogue is evidently experimental^ and the play of repartee protracted with no other view, than to take the chance of a trump of wit or humor turning up. In comparing the two characters in this sketch with what they are at present, it is impossible not to be struck by the signal * The speeclies which T have omitted consist inerely of repetitions of the same thoucrhts, with but very little variation of the langua«?e. t these notes of admiration are in tlie original, and seem meant to express the iurpri&e of Iho auUiar '<\\ the extravagance of his own joke. EIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 153 change that they have undergone. The transformation of Sir Pe- ter into a gentleman has refmed, without weakening, the ridicule of his situation ; and there is an interest created by the respecta- bility, a.:d amiableness of his sentiments, which, contrary to the effect produced in general by elderly gentlemen so circumstanced, makes us rejoice, at the end, that he has his young wife all to himself. The improvement in the character of Lady Teazle is still more marked and successful. Instead of an ill-bred young shrew, whose readiness to do wrong leaves the mind in but little uncertainty as to her fate, we have a lively and innocent, though imprudent country girl, transplanted into the midst of all that can bewilder and endanger her, but with still enough of the pu- rity of rural life about her heart, to keep the blight of the world from settling upon it permanently. There is indeed in the original draught a degree of glare alid coarseness, which proves the eye of the artist to have been fresh from the study of Wycherly and Vanbrugh ; and this want of delicacy is particularly observable in the subsequent scene be- tween Lady Teazle and Surface — the chastening down of which to its present tone is not the least of those triumphs of taste and skill, which every step in the elaboration of tins Comedy ex- hibits. "/Sfcme* — Young Pltant*s Room. " Young P, I wonder her ladyship is not here : she promised me to call this morning. I have a hard game to play here, to pursue my designs on Maria. I have brought myself into a scrape with the mother-in-law. How- ever, I think we have taken care to ruin my brother's character with my uncle, should he come to-morrow. Frank has not an ill quality in his na- ture ; yet, a neglect of forms, and of the opinion of the world, has hurt him in the estimation of all his graver friends. I have profited by his errors, and contrived to gain a character, which now serves me as a mask to lie under. '' Enter Lady Teazle. '' Lady T. TVTiat, musing, or thinking of me ? " Young P. I was thinking unkindly of you ; do you know now that you must repay me for this delay, or I must be coaxed into good humor ? * The Third of the fourth Act in the present form of the Comedy. This scene uiider^ went many changes afterwards, and was oflener put back into the crucible than any other part of the pla VOL. I. 7* 154 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE " Lady T. Nay, in faith you should pity me — this old curmudgeon of late is growing so jealous, that I dare scarce go out, till I know he is secure for some time. ^^ Young P. I am afraid the insinuations we have had spread about Frank have operated too strongly on him — we meant only to direct his suspi- cions to a wrong object. '^ Lady T. Oh. hang him! I tave told him plaialy that if he continues to be so suspicious, I'll leave him entirely, and make him allow me a sepa- rate maintenance. ••' Young P. But, my charmer, if ever that should be the case, you see before you the man who will ever be attached to you. But you must not let matters come to extremities ; you can never be revenged so well by leaving him, as by living with him, and let my sincere affection make amends for his brutality. " Jjady T. But how shall I be sure now that you are sincere? I have sometimes suspected that you loved my niece.* '' Young P. Oh, hang her, a puling idiot, without sense or spirit. " Lady T, But what proofs have I of your love to me, for I have still so much of my country prejudices left, that if I were to do a foolish thing (and I think I can't promise) it shall be for a man who would risk every thing for me alone. How shall I be sure you love me ? •^ Young P. I have dreamed of you every night this week past. ^' Lady T. That's a sign you have slept every night for this week past ; for my part, I would not give a pin for a lover who could not wake for a month in absence. " Young P. I have written verses on you out of number. '■''Lady T. I never saw any. ^' Young P. No — they did not please me, and so I tore them. ^^ Lady T. Then it seems you wrote them only to divert yourself. " Young P. Am I doomed for ever to suspense ? '* Lady T. I don't know — if I was convinced *' Young P, Then let me on my knees *' L^ady T. Nay, nay, I will have no raptures either. This much I can tell you, that if I am to be seduced to do wrong, I am not to be taken by storm, but by deliberate capitulation, and that only where my reason or my heart is convinced. ^' Young P. Then, to say it at once — the world gives itself liberties '' Lady T. Nay, I am sure without cause ; for I am as yet unconscious of any ill, though I know not what I may be forced to. •^ Young P. The fact is, my dear Lady Teazle, that your extreme inno- * He had not yet deci4^4 whether to make Maria tlie ditughter-in-law or niece of Lady Teazle. RIGHT HON. RICHAED BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 155 cence is the very cause of your danger ; it is the integrity of your heart that makes you run into a thousand imprudences which a full conscious- ness of error would make you guard against. Now, in that case, you canH conceive how much more circumspect you would be. '' Lady T. Do you think so ? '' Young P. Most certainly. Your character is like a person in a ple- thora, absolutely dying of too much health. ^' Lady T. So then you would have me sin in my own defence, and part with my virtue to preserve my reputation.* '' Young P. Exactly so, upon my credit, ma'am.'' ******* It will be observed, from all I have cited, that much of the original material is still preserved throughout ; but that, like the ivory melting in the hands of Pygmalion, it has lost all its first rigidity and roughness, and, assuming at every touch some va- riety of aspect, seems to have gained new grace by every change. " Mollescit ehur, posit ague rigor e Subsidit digiiis, ceditque ui Hymettia sole Cera remollescit, tractataque poll ice multas Flectitur in facics, ipsoque fit utilis usu.''^ Where'er his fingers move his eye can trace The once rude ivory softening into grace — Pliant as wax that, on Hymettus' hill, Melts in the sunbeam, it obeys his skill ; At every touch some different aspect shows. And still, the oftener touch 'd the lovelier grows. I need not, I think, apologize for the length of the extracts I have given, as they cannot be otherwise than interesting to all lovers of literary history. To trace even the mechanism of an author's style through the erasures and alterations of his rough copy, is, in itself, no ordinary gratification of curiosity ; and the hrouillon of Rousseau's Heloise, in the library of the Chamber o^ Deputies at Paris, affords a study in which more than the mere '' auceps syllabarum" might delight. But it is still more inter- * This sentence seems to have haunted him — I find it written in every direction, and without any material change in its form, over the pages of his diiferent memorandum books. 156 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE esting to follow thus the course of a writer's thoughts — to watch the kmcllmg of new fancies as he goes — to accompany him in his change of plans, and see the various vistas that open upon him at every step. It is, indeed, like being admitted by seme magical power, to witness the mysterious processes of the natural world — to see the crystal forming by degrees round its primitive nu cleus, or observe the slow ripening of •' the imperfect ore, " And know it will be gold another day !" In respect of mere style, too, the workmanship of so pure a writer of English as Sheridan is well worth the attention of all who would learn the difficult art of combining ease with polish, and being, at the same time, idiomatic and elegant. There is not a page of these manuscripts that does not bear testimony to the fastidious care with which he selected, arranged, and moulded his language, so as to form it into that transparent channel of his thoughts, which it is at present. His chief objects in correcting were to condense and simplify — to get rid of all unnecessary phrases and epithets, and, in short, to strip away from the thyrsus of his wit every leaf that could render it less light and portable. One instance out of many will show the improving effect of these operations.'* The follow- ing is the original form of a speech of Sir Peter's : — " People vrho utter a tale of scandal, knovf ing it to be forged, deserve the pillory more than for a forged bank-note. They can't pass the lie without putting their names on the back of it. You say no person has a right to come on you because you didn't invent it ; but you should know that, if tlie drawer of the lie is out of the way, the injured party has a right to come on any of the indorsers." When this is compared with the form in which the same * In one or two sentences he has left a degree of siiifuessin the style, not so much from madvertence as from the sacrifice of ease to point. Thus, in the following example, he has been tempted by an antithesis into an inversion of phrase by tio means idiomatic. "The plain state of the matter is this — I am an extravagant young fellow who xoant money to horruw; you, I lake- to be a prudent old feilov/ who have got money to lend." In the Collection of his Works tliis phrase is given difterenily — but without authority from my of the manuscript copies. RIGHT ilON. KICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. lo? thought is put at present, it will be perceived how much the wit has gained in lightness and effect by the change : — " Mrs. Candor, But sure you would not be quite so severe on those who only report Tvhat they hear ? " Sir P, Yes, madam, I would have Law-merchant for them too, and in all cases of slanoer currency,* whenever the drawer of the lie was not to be found, the injured party should have a right to come on any of the indorsers." Another great source of the felicities of his style, and to which he attended most anxiously in revision, was the choice of epi- thets ; in which he has the happy art of making these accessary words not only minister to the clearness of his meaning, but bring out new effects in his wit by the collateral lights which they strike upon it — and even where the principal idea has but little significance, he contrives to enliven it into point by the quaintness or contrast of his epithets. Amxong the many rejected scraps of dialogue that lie about, like the chippings of a Phidias, in this w^orkshop of wit, there are some precious enough to be preserved, at least, as relics. For instance, — '' She is one of those, who convey a libel in a frown, and wink a reputation down." The following touch of costume, too, in Sir Peter's description of the rustic dress of Lady Teazle before he married her : — " You forget when a little wire and gauze, with a few beads, made you a fly-cap not much bigger than a blue-bottle." The specimen which Sir Benjamhi Backbite gives of his poeti- cal talents was taken, it will be seen, from the following verses, which I find in Mr. Sheridan's hand«writing — one of those trifles, perhaps, with which he and his friend Tickell were in the constant habit of amusing themselves, and written apparently with the I'^^ ration of ridiculing some woman of fashion : — - ' Then behind, all my hair is done up in a plat, And so, like a cornet's, tuck'd under my hat. . * Then is another simile among his meraoranclams of the same mercantile kind :— . *• A aoit of broker in scandal, who transWs lies without fees." 158 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE Then I moun on my palft'oy as gay as a lark, And, folio Vd by John, take the dust* in High Pa-k. In the way I am met by some smart macaroni, Who rides by my side on a little bay poney — No stuixly Hibernian, with shoulders so wide, But as taper and slim as the ponies they ride ; Their legs are as slim, and their shoulders no wider, Dear sweet little creatures, both poney and rider i But sometimes, when hotter, I order my chaise, And manage, myself, my two little grays. Sure never were seen two such sweet little ponies, Other horses are clow^ns, and these macai'onies, And to give them this title. I'm sui'e isn't AviTng, Their legs are so slim, and theii' tails are so long. In Kensington Gardens to stroll up and down. You know was the fashion before you left town, — The thing's well enough, when allowance, is made For the size of the trees and the depth of the shade. But the spread of their leaves such a shelter affords To those noisy, impertinent creatures called birds. Whose ridiculous chiiTuping ruins the scene, Brings the country before me, and gives me the spleen. Yet. tho* 'tis too rural — to come near the mark. We all herd in one walk, and that, nearest the Park. There with ease we may see, as we pass by the wicket, The chimneys of Knightsbridge and — footmen at cricket I must tho*, in justice, declare that the grass. Which, worn by our feet, is diminished apace, In a little time more wdll be brown and as flat As the sand at Yauxhall or as Ranelagh mat. Improving thus fast, perhaps, by degrees, We may see rolls and bu*ter spread under the trees, With a small pretty band in each seat of the walk, To play little tunes and enliven our talk.-' Though Mr. Sheridan appears to have made more easy pro- gress, after he had incorporated his two first plots into cne, yet, even m the details of the new plan, considerable alterations were • This phrase is made use of in the dialog:ue : — " As Lady Betty Curricle was taking tie iiwtinHvdePark." tllGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SSERIDAN. 159 subsequently made — whole scenes suppressed or transposed, and the dialogue of some entirely re-written. In the third Act, for instance, as it originally stood, there was a long scene, in which Rowley, by a minute examination of Snake, drew from him, in the presence of Sir Oliver and Sir Peter, a full confession of his designs against the reputation of Lady Teazle. Nothbig could be more ill-placed and heavy ; it was accordingly cancelled, and the confession of Snake postponed to its natural situation, the conclusion. The scene, too, where Sir Oliver, as Old Stanley, comes to ask pecuniary aid of Joseph, was at first wholly different from what it is at present ; and in some parts approached much nearer to the confines of caricature than the watcliful taste of Mr. Sheridan would permit. For example, Joseph is represented in it as giving the old suitor only half-a-guinea, which the latter indignantly returns, and leaves him ; upon which Joseph, look- ing at the half-guinea, exclaims, " Well, let him starve — this will do for the opera." It was the fate of Mr. Sheridan, through life, — and, in a great degree, perhaps, liis policy, — to gain credit for excessive indo- lence and carelessness, while few persons, with so much natural brilliancy of talents, ever employed more art and circumspec- tion in their display. This was the case, remarkably, in the in- stance before us. Notwithstanding the labor which he bestowed upon this comedy, (or we should rather, perhaps, say in conse- quence of that labor,) the first representation of the piece was announced before the whole of the copy was in the hands of the actors. The manuscript, indeed, of the five last scenes bears evident marks of this haste in finishing. — there being but one rough draught of them scribbled upon detached pieces of paper; while, of all the preceding acts, there are numerous transcripts, scattered promiscuously through six or seven books, with new interlineations and memorandums to each. On ths last leaf of all, which exists just as we may suppose it to have been despatched by him to the copyist, there is the following curious specimen of doxology, written hastily, in the hand- wri- ting of the respective parties, at the bottom : — 160 MEMOiES OF THE LIFE OF THfi " Finished at last. Thank God ! " Amen ! " R. B. Sheridan." " W. Hopkins."* The cast of the play, on the first nfght of representation (May 8, 1777), was as follows : — Sir Peter Teazle Sir Oliver Surface Joseph Surface Charles Crabtree Sir BcDJamin Backbite Rowley Moses Trip Snake Careless Sir Harry Bumper Lady Teazle . Maria Lady Sneerwell Mrs. Candor Mr, King. Mr. Yates. Mr. Palmer. Mr. Smith. Mr. Parsons, Mr. I)odd. Mr. Aickin. Mr. Baddeley. Mr. Lamash. / Mr. Packer. Mr. Far r en. Mr. Gawdry. Mrs. Ahington. Miss P. Hopkins 3fiss Sherry. Miss Pope. The success of such a play, so acted, could not be doubtful. Long after its first uninterrupted run, it continued to be played regularly two or three times a week ; and a comparison of the receipts of the first twelve nights, with those of a later period, will show how little the attraction of the piece had abated by repetition : — May 8th, 1777. School for Scandal . Ditto .... Ditto A. B. (Author-s night) Ditto .... Ditto . . .- . Ditto A. B 73 10 Committee School for Scandal £ s. d. 225 9 195 6 73 10 257 4 (Expenses) 6 243 73 10 66 6 6 262 19 6 * Tlie Prompter. IliGHl? HON. HiCHAliD BRIKSLEY SHERIDAN. 161 Ditto Ditto A. B Ditto K. (the King) Ditto Ditto 263 13 6 73 10 272 9 6 247 15 255 14 The following extracts are taken at hazard from an account of tlie weekly receipts of the Theatre, for the year 1778, kept with txamplary neatness and care by Mrs. Sheridan herself:*— 1778. January 3d. Twelfth Night . 5th. Macbeth . 6th. Tempest . 7th. School for Scandal 8th. School for Fathers 9th. School for Scandal March 14th. School for Scandal 16th. Venice Preserved 17th. Hamlet . 19th. School for Scandal Queen Mab Queen Mab Queen Mab Oomus Queen Mab Padlock . £ s. d, 139 14 6 212 19 107 15 6 292 16 181 10 6 281 6 Deserter . . 263 18 6 Belphegor (New) 195 3 6 Belphegor . . 160 19 Belphegor . . 261 10 ' Such, indeed, was the predominant attraction of this comedy; during the two years subsequent to its first appearance, that, in the official account of receipts for 1779, we find the following remark subjoined by the Treasurer : — " School for Scandal damped the new pieces." I have traced it by the same unequivr ocal marks of success through the years 1780 and 1781, and find the nights of its representation always rivalling those on which the King went to the theatre, in the magnitude of their receipts. The following note from Garrickf to the author, dated May * It appears from a letter of Holcroft to Mrs. Sheridan, (given in his Memoirs, vol. i. p 275,) that she was also in the habit of reading for Sheridan the new pieces sent in by dramatic candidates : — " Mrs. Crewe (he says) has spoken to Mr. Sheridan concerning it (the Shepherdess of the Alps), as he informed me last night, desiring me at the same time to send it to you, who, he said, would not only read it yourself, but remind him of it." f Murphy tells us that ilr. Garrick attended the rehearsals, and " was never known on an> former occasion to be more anxious for a favorite piece. He was proud of the new manager, and in a triumphant manner boasted of the genius to whom he had consigned the con- duct of the theatre."— Xife of Garrick. 162 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE 12 (four days after the first appearance of the comedy), will be read with interest by all those for whom the great names of the drama have any charm : — " Mr. Gajirick's best wishes and compliments to Mr. Sheri- dan. " How is the Saint to-day ? A gentleman who is as mad as myself about y^ School remark'd, that the characters upon the stage at y® falling of the screen stand too long before they speak 5 — I thouo:ht so too y® first night : — he said it w\as the same on y* 2"*^, and was remark'd by others ; — tho' they should be astonish'd, and a little petrify'd, yet it may be carry'd to too grsat a length, — All praise at Lord Lucan's last night." Tlie beauties of this Comedy are so universally known and felt, that criticism may be spared the trouble of dwelling upon them vcx-y minutely. With but little interest in the plot, with no very profound or ingenious development of character, and with a group of personages, not one of whom has any legitimate claims upon either our affection 01 esteem, it yet, by the admirar ble skill with which its materials are managed, — the happy con trivance of the situations, at once both natural and striking, — the fine feeling of the ridiculous that smiles throughout, and that perpetual play of wit which never tires, but seems, like run- ning water, to be kept fresh by its own flow, — by all this gene ral animation and effect, combined with a finish of the details al most faultless, it unites the suffrages, at once, of the refined and the simple, and is not less successful in ministering to the natu ral enjoyment of the latter, than in satisfying and delighting the most fastidious tastes among the former. And this is the true triumph of genius in all the arts, — whether in painting, sculpture, music, or literature, those works which have pleased the greatest number of people of all classes, for the longest space of time, may without hesitation be pronounced the best ; and, however mediocrity may enshrine itself in the admiration of the select few, the palm of excellence can only be awarded by the many. The defects of The School for Scandal, if they can be allowed to amount to defects, are. in a great measure, traceable to that BIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAK. 163 amalgamation of two distinct plots, out of which, as I have al- ready shown, the piece was formed. From this cause, — like an accumulation of wealth from the union of two rich families, — has devolved that excessive opulence of wdt, with which, as some cntics think, the dialogue is overloaded ; and which Mr. Sheri- aan himself used often to mention, as a fault of which he was conscious in his work. That he had no such scruple, however, ill writiiig it, appears evident from the pains which he took to sir ng upon his new plot every bright thought and fancy which he had brought together for the two others ; and it is not a little curious, in turning over his manuscript, to see how the out- standing jokes are kept in recollection upon the margin, till he can find some opportunity of funding them to advantage in the text. The consequence of all this is, that the dialogue, from be- ginning to end, is a continued sparkling of polish and point : ano the whole of the Dramatis Personce might be comprised unde^ one common designation of Wits. Even Trip, the servant, 's as pointed and shining as the rest, and has his master's wit, as he has his birth-day clothes, " with the gloss on."* The only pei sonage among them that shows any " temperance in jesting," :s old Rowley ; and he, too, in the original, had his share in the general largess of hoii-mots, — one of the liveliest in the piecef be- ing at first given to him, though afterwards transferred, with somewhat more fitness, to Sir Oliver. In short, the entire Come- dy is a sort of El-Dorado of wit, where the precious metal is thrown about by all classes, as carelessly as if they had not the least idea of its value. Another blemish that hypercriticism has noticed, and which may likewise be traced to the original conformation of the play, is the uselessness of some of the characters to the action or business of it — almost the whole of the " Scandalous College" * This is one of the phrases that seem to have perplexed the taste of Sheridan, — and upon so minute a point, as, whether it should be " with the gloss on,-' or, " with the gloss on them." After various trials of it in both ways, he decided, as mi^ht be expected from his love of idiom, for the former. t The answer *o the remark, that " charit>' begins at home," — " and his, I presume, IS of ihpt domestic sort which never stirs abroad at all." 164 MEMOtRS OF THE LIFE OF THE being but, as it were, excrescences, through which none of the life-blood of the plot circulates. The cause of this is evident : — Sir Benjamin Backbite, in the first plot to which he belonged, "was a principal personage ; but, being transplanted from thence into one with which he has no connection, not only he, but his uncle Q^abtree, and Mrs. Candor, though contributing abund^^nt- Ij to the animation of the dialogue, have hardly anything 30 do with the advancement of the story ; and, like the accessories in a Greek drama, are but as a sort of Chorus of Scandal chrough- out. That this defect, or rather peculiarity, should have been observed at first, when criticism was freshly on the watch for food, is easily conceivable ; and I have been told by a friend, who was in the pit on the first night of performance, that a per- 5on, who sat near him, said impatiently, during the famous scene .ac Lady Sneerwell's, in the Second Act, — " I wish these people would have done talking, and let the play begin." It has often been rem.arked as singular, that the lovers, Charles and Maria, should never be bi'ought in presence of each other till the last scene ; and Mr. Sheridan used to say, that he was aware, in writing the Comedy, of the apparent want of dramatic management which such an omission would betray ; but that neither of the actors, for whom he had destined those characters, was such as he could safely trust with a love scene. ' There mighty perhaps, too, have been, in addition to this motive, a lit- tle consciousness, on his own part, of not being exactly in his -element in that tender style of writing, which such a scene, ^;0 make it worthy of the rest, would have required ; and of which the specimens left us in the serious parts of The Rivals are cer- tainly not among his most felicitous efforts. By some critics the incident of the screen has been censured, as a contrivance unworthy of the dignity of comedy."^' But m real life, of which comedy must condescend to be the copy, * " In the old comedy, the catastroplie is occasioned, in general, by a change in tho mind of some principal character, artfully prepared and cautiously conducted ; — in the modern, the unfolding of the plot is effected by the overturning of a screen, the opening •of a door, or some other equally digniiied machine." — Gifford, Essay on the Writings of Massinger. RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 1G5 events of far greater importance are brought about by accidents as trivial ; and in a world like ours, where the falling of an ap- ple has led to the discovery of the laws of gravitation, it is sure- ly too fastidious to deny to the dramatist the discovery of an intrigue by the falling of a screen. There is another objection as to the manner of employing this machine, which, though less grave, is perhaps less easily ansvrered. Joseph, at the com- mencement of the scene, desires his servant to draw the screen before the window, because " his opposite neighbor is a maiden lady of so anxious a temper';'' yet, afterwards, by placing Lady Teazle between the screen and the window, he enables this in- quisitive lady to indulge her curiosity at leisure. It might be said, indeed, that Joseph, with the alternative of exposure to either the husband or neighbor, chooses the lesser evil ; — but the oversight hardly requires a defence. From the trifling nature of these objections to the dramatic merits of the School for Scandal, it will be seen, that, like the criticism of Momus on the creaking of Venus's shoes, they only show how perfect must be the work in which no greater faults can be found. But a more serious charge has been brought against it on the score of morality, and the gay charm thrown around the irregularities of Charles is pronounced to be dan- gerous to the interests of honesty and virtue. There is no doubt that in this character only the fairer side of libertinism is presented, — that the merits of being in debt are rather too fond- ly insisted upon, and with a grace and spirit that might seduce even creditors into admiration. It was, indeed, playfully said, that no tradesman who applauded Charles could possibly have the face to dun the author afterwards. In looking, however, to the race of rakes that had previously held possession of the stage, we cannot help considering our release from the contagion of so much coarseness and selfishness to be worth even the in- creased risk of seduction that may have succeeded to it ; and the remark of Burke, however questionable in strict ethics, is, at least, true on the stage.— that " vice loses half its evil by losing all its grossness," 166 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE It should be recollected, too, that, in other respects, the author- applies the lash of moral satii^e very successfully. That group of slanderers who, like the Chorus of the Eumenides, go search- ing about for their prey with " eyes that drop poison," represent a class of persons m society who richly deserve such ridicule, and who — like their prototypes in iEschylus trembling before the shafts of Apollo — are here made to feel the full force of tlie archery of wit. It is indeed a proof of the effect and use of sucli satire, that the name of "Mrs. Candor" has become one of those formidable bye-words, which have more power m puttmg folly and ill-nature out of countenance, than whole volumes of the w^isest remonstrance and reasonmg. The poetical justice exercised upon the TartufFe of sentiment, Joseph, is another service to the cause of morals, which should more than atone for any dangerous embellishment of wrong that the portraiture of the younger brother may exhibit. Indeed, though both these characters are such as the moralist must visit with his censure, there can belittle doubt to which we should, iii real life, give the preference ; — the levities and errors of the one, arising from warmth of heart and of youth, may be merely like those mists that exhale from summer streams, obscuring them awhile to the eye, without affecting the native purity of their waters ; while the hypocrisy of the other is like the mirage of the desert, shining with promise on the surface, but all false and barren beneath. In a late work, professing to be the Memoirs of Mr. Sheridan, there are some wise doubts expressed as to his being really the author of the School for Scandal, to which, except for the pur pose of exposing absurdity, I should not have thought it worth while to allude. It is an old trick of Detraction, — and one, of which it never tires, — to father the works of eminent writers upon others; or, at least, while it kindly leaves an author the credit of his worst performances, to find some one in the back- ground to ease him of the fame of his best. When this sort of charge is brought against a cotemporary, the motive is intelligi- ble ; but, such an abstract pleasure have some persons in merely RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 16T UTTf^-ttfiiig tne orownp o " Fame, that a worthy German has writ- ten an elaborate book to prove, that the Iliad was written, not by that particular Homer the world supposes, but by some other Homer ! Indeed, if mankind were to be influenced by those Qui tarn critics, who have, from time to time, in the course of the history of literature, exhibited informations of plagiarism against great authors, the property of fame would pass from its present holders into the hands of persons with whom the world is but little acquainted. Aristotle must refund to one Ocellus Lucanus -- -Virgil must make a cessio honorum in favor of Pisander — the Metamorphoses of Ovid must be credited to the account of Par- lihenius of Nica^a, and (to come to a modern instance) Mr. She- ridan must, according to Ills biographer, Dr. Watkins, surrender v'-iC glory of having written the School for Scandal to a certain anonymous young lady, who died of a consumption in Thames Street ! To pass, however, to less hardy assailants of the originality of this comedy, — it is said that the characters of Joseph and Charles were suggested by those of Bliiil and Tom Jones ; that the incident of the arrival of Sir Oliver from India is copied from that of the return of Warner in Sidney Biddulph ; and that the hint of the flimous scandal scene at Lady Sneerwell's is borrow- ed from a comedy of Moliere. Mr. Sheridan, it is true, like all men of genius, had, in addition to the resources of his own wit, a quick apprehension of what suited his purpose in the wit of others, and a power of enr Idling whatever he adopted from them with such new grace, as gave him a sort of claim of paternity over it, and made it all his own. " C'est mon bien," said Moliere, when accused of borrowing, " et je le reprens partout ou je le trouve *," and next, indeed, to creation, the re-production, in a new and more perfect form, of materials already existing, or the full development of thoughts that had but half blown in the hands of others, are the noblest miracles for wnich we look to the hand of genius. It is not my intention therefore to defend Mr. Sheridan from this kind of pla- giarism, of which he was guilty in common with the rest of his 168 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE fellow-descendants from Prometheus, who aJ steal the spaik wherever they can find it. But the instances, just alleged, of his obligations to others, are too questionable and trivial to be taken into any serious account. Contrasts of character, such as Charles and Joseph exhibit, are as common as the lights and shadows of a landscape, and belong neither to Fielding nor She- ridan, but to nature. It is in the manner of transferring them to the canvas that the whole difference between the master and the copyist lies; and Charles and Joseph would, no doubt, have been what thev are, if Tom Jones had never existed. With respect to the hint supposed to be taken from the novel of Ms mother, he at least had a right to consider any aid from that quarter as "son bien" — talent being the only patrimony U* which he had succeeded. But the use made of the return of h relation in the play is wholly different fvom that to which the Siime incident is applied in the novel. Besides, in those golden times of Indian delinquency, the arrival of a wealthy relative from the East was no very unobvious ingredient in a story. The imitation of Moliore (if, as I take for granted, the Misan- thrope be the play, in which the origin of the famous S'iand?! scene is said to be found) is equally faint and remote, and, ex2ept in the common point of scandal, untraceable. Nothing, indeed, can be more unlike than the manner in which the two scenes are managed. Celimene, in Moliere, bears the whole /raz5 of the conversation ; and this female La Bruyere's tedious and solitary dissections of character would be as little borne on the English stage, as the quick and dazzling movement of so many lancets of wit as operate in the School for Scandal would be tolerated on that of the French. It is frequently said that Mr. Sheridan was a good deal in- debted to Wycherley ; and he himself gave, in some degree, a color to the charge, by the suspicious impatience which he be. traved whenever anv allusion was nlade to it. He went so far, indeed, it is said, as to deny ha^dng ever read a line of Wycherley (though of Vanbrugh's dialogue he ahvays spoke with the warmest admiration) ; — and this assertion, as v/ell as some others equally RIGHT HO]S\ RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAK. 169 remarkable, such as, that he never saw Garrick on the stage, that he never had seen a play throughout m his life, however strange and startling they may appear, are, at least, too curious and cha- racteristic not to be put upon record. His acquaintance with Wycherley was possibly but at second-hand, and confined, per- haps, to Garrick's alteration of the Country Wife, in which the incident, already mentioned as having been borrowed for the Duenna, is preserved. There is, however, a scene in the Plain Dealer (Act II.), where Nevil and Olivia attack the characters of the persons with whom Nevil had dined, of which it is difficult to believe that Mr. Sheridan was ignorant : as it seems to con- tain much of that Hyle^ or First Matter, out of which his own more perfect creations were formed. In Congreve's Double Dealer, too, (Act III. Scene 10) there is much which may. at least, have mixed itself with the recollec- tions of Sheridan, and influenced the course of his fancy — it being often found that the imxages with which the memory is furnished, like those pictures hung up before the eyes of pregnant women at Sparta, produce insensibly a likeness to themselves in the offspring which the imagination brings forth. The admirable droUerv in Con^reve about Ladv Froth's verses on her coach- man — " For as the sun shines every day, So of our coachman I may say ^' — is by no means unlikely to have suggested the doggerel of Sir Benjafnin Backbite ; and the scandalous conversation in this scene, though far inferior in delicacy and ingenuity to that of Sheridan, has somewhat, as the reader will see, of a parental resemblance to it : — " Lord Froth. Hee, hee, my dear ; have you done ? Won't you join with us ? We were laughing at ray lady Whifler and Mr. Sneer. " Lady F. Aj, my dear, were you ? Oh, filthy Mr. Sneer ! he is a nau- seous figure, a most fulsamlck fop. He spent two days together in going about Covent Garden to suit the lining of his coach with his complexion. '^ Ld. F. Oh, sillyi yet his aunt is as fond of him, as if she bad brought the ape into the world herself. VOL. I. 8 170 MEMOIBS OF THE LIFE OF THE '' Brisk. Who? my Lady Toothless? Oh, she is a mortifying spectacle ; she's always chewing the cud like an old ewe. '' Ld. F. Then she\s always ready to laugh, when Sneer offers to speak ; and sits in expectation of his no jest, with her gums bare, and her mouth open — •'* Brisk. Like an oyster at low ebb, egad — ha, ha, ha ! ^'Cynthia. (Aside.) Well, I find there are no fools so inconsiderable them- selves, but they can render other people contemptible by exposing theii infirmities. *•' Lady F. Then that t'other great strapping Lady — I can't hit off her name : the old fat fool, that paints so exorbitantly. " Brisk. I know whom you mea.n — but. deuce take her, I can't hit off her name either — paints, d'ye say ? Why she lays it on with a trowel. Then she has a great beard that bristles through it, and makes her look, as if she was plastered with lime and hair, let me perish.'^ It would be a task not uninteresting, to enter into a detailed comparison of the characteristics and merits of Mr. Sheridan, as a dramatic writer, with those of the other great masters of the art ; and to consider how far they difiered or agreed with each other, in the structure of their plots and management of their dialogue — in the mode of laying the train of their repartee, or pointmg the artillery of their wit. But I have already devoted to this part of my subject a much ampler space, than to some of my readers will appear either necessary or agreeable ; — though by others, more interested in such topics, my diffuseness will, 1 trust, be readily pardoned. In tracking Mr. Sheridan through his too distinct careers of literature and of politics, it is on the highest point of his elevation in each that the eye naturally rests ; and the School for Scandal in one, and the Begum speeches in the other, are the two grand heights — the *' summa biverticis um- bra Parnassi^^'^ — from which he will stand out to after times, and round which, therefore, his biographer may be excused for lin- gering with most fondness and delay. It appears singular that, during the life of Mr. Sheridan, no authorized or correct edition of this play should have been pub- lished in England. He had, at one time, disposed of the copy- right to Mr. Ridgway of Piccadilly, but, after repeated applica- tions from the latter for the manuscript, he was told by Mr RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 171 Sheridan, as an excuse for keeping it back, that he had been nine^ teen years endeavoring to satisfy himself with the style of the School for Scandal, but had not yet succeeded. Mr. Ridgway, upon this, ceased to give him any further trouble on the sub ject. The edition printed in Dublin is, with the exception of a few unimportant omissions and verbal differences, perfectly correct. It appears that, after the success of the comedy in London, he presented a copy of it to his eldest sister, Mrs. Lefanu, to be disposed of, for her own advantage, to the manager of the Dub- lin Theatre. The sum of a hundred guineas, and free admissions for her family, were the terms upon which Ryder, the manager at that period, purchased from this lady the right of acting the play ; and it was from the copy thus procured that the edition afterwards published in Dublin w^as printed. I have collated this edition with the copy given by Mr. Sheridan to Lady Crewe (the last, I believe, ever revised by himself),* and find it, with the few exceptions already mentioned, correct throughout. The School for Scandal has b^een translated into most of the languages of Europe, and, among the French particularly, has un- dergone a variety of metamorphoses. A translation, undertaken, it appears, with the permission of Sheridan himself, was pub- lished in London, in the year 1789, by a Monsieur Bunell De- lille, who, in a dedication to " Milord Macdonald," gives the fol- low^mg account of the origin of his task : " Vous savez, Milord, de quelle maniere mysterieuse cette piece, qui n'a jamais ete im- prime que furtivement, se trouva I'ete dernier sur ma table, en manuscrit, in-folio ; et, si .vous daignez vous le rappeler, apres ♦ Among the corrections in this copy (which are in his own hand- writing, and but few in number), there is one which shows not only the retentiveness of his memory, but the minute attention which he paid to the structure of his sentences. Lady Teazle, in her scene with Sir Peter in the Second Act, says " That's very true, indeed, Sir Peter ; and, after having married ycu, I should never pretend to taste again, I allow." It was thus tha-- ^he passage stood at first in Lady Crewe's copy, — as it does still, too, in the Dublin edition, and in that given in the Colltcti.-:r of his W-'-ks, — but in his final revision of this copy, the original reading of the sentence, such as I nnd it in all his earlier manuscripts of the play, is restored. — "That's very true, indeed. Sir Peter ; and, after having married you, I am sure I should never pretend to taste again " 172 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE vous avoir fait part de I'aventure, je courus chez Monsieur Sheri- dan pour lui demander la permission," &c. fiance of public opinion, and exerted, it is said, the whole power of his persuasion and reasoning, to turn aside his sanguine and uncalculating friend from a measure so likely to embarrass his future career. Unfortunately, however, the advice was not taken, — and a person, who witnessed the close of a conversation, in which Sheridan had been making a last effort to convince Mr. Fox of the imprudence of the step he was about to take, heard the latter, at parting, express his final resolution in the following decisive words: — "It is as fixed as the Hanover succession.'* To the general principle of Coalitions, and the expediency and even duty of forming them, in conjunctures that require and jus- tify such a sacrifice of the distinctions of party, no objection, it appears to me, can rationally be made by those who are satisfied with the manner in which tlie Constitution has worked, since the new modification of its machinery introduced at the Revolution. The Revolution itself was, indeed, brought about by a Coalition, * Unpublished Paperi. 2-18 3[e:moirs of the life of the in which Tories, surrenderirig their doctrines of submission, ar- rayed themselves by the side of Whigs, in defence of their com- mon liberties. Another Coalition, less important in its object and effects, but still attended with results m.ost glorious to the country, was that which took place in the year 1757, when, by a union of parties from whose dissension much mischief had flowed, the interests of both king and people were reconciled, and the good genius of England triumphed at home and abroad. On occasions like these, when the public liberty or safety is in peril, it is the duty of every honest statesman to say, with the Roman, " Non me impedient 2yriva^ce offensiones, quo minus pro rerpiiblicce salute etiam cum inimicissimo consentmm.'^ Such cases, however, but rarely occur ; and they have been in this re- spect, among others, distinguished from the ordinary occasions, on whicli the ambition or selfishness of politicians resorts to such unions, that the voice of the people has called aloud for them in the name of the public weal ; and that the cause round which they have rallied has been sufficiently general, to merge all j^arty titles in the one undistinguishing name of Englishman. By nei- th.T of these tests can the junction between Lord North and Mr. Fox be justified. Tlie people at large, so far from calling for this ill-omened alliance, would on the contrary — to use the lan- guage of Mr. Pitt — have "forbid the banns ;" and though it is unfair to suppose that the interests of the public did not enter into the calculations of the united leaders, yet, if the real watchword of tlieir union were to be demanded of them in •' the Palace of Truth," there can be little doubt that the answer of each would be, rllstinctly and unhesitatingly, "Am- bition.*' One of the most specious allegations in defence of the measure is, that tha extraordinary favor whirh Lord Shelburne enjoyed at coiu't, and the arbitrary tendencies known to prevail in that quarter, portended ju^t then such an overflow of Royal influence, as it was necessary to counteract by this double embankment of party. In the first place, however, it is by no means so cer- tain that the noble minister at this period did actually enjo}' RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 249 such favor. On the contrary, there is every reason to be- lieve that his possession of the Royal confidence did not long survive that important service, to which he was made instru- mental, of clearing the cabinet of the Whigs ; and that, like the bees of Virgi], he had left the soul of his own power in the wound which he had been the means of inflicting upon that of others. In the second place, whatever might have been the de- signs of the Court, — and of its encroaching spirit no doubt can be entertained, — Lord Shelburne had assuredly given no grounds for apprehending, that he would ever, like one of the chiefs of this combination against him, be brought to lend himself precipi- tately or mischievously to its views. Though differing from Mr. Fox on some important points of policy, and following the ex- ample of his friend, Lord Chatham, in keeping himself indepen- dent of Whig confederacies, he was not the less attached to the true principles of that party, and, throughout his whole political career, invariably maintained them. This argument, therefore, — the only plausible one in defence of the Coalition, — fails in the two chief assumptions on which it is founded. It has been truly said of Coalitions, considered abstractedly, that such a union of parties, when the public good requires it, is to be justified on the same grounds on which party itself is vindicated. But the more we feel inclined to acknowledge the utility of party, the more we must dread and deprecate any unnecessary compromise, by which a suspicion of unsoundness may be brought upon the agency of so useful a principle — the more we should discourage, as a matter of policy, any facility in surrendering those badges of opinion, on which the eyes of followers are fond- ly fixed, and by v/hich their confidence and spirit are chiefly kept alive — the more, too, we must lament that a great popular lead- er, like Mr. Fox, should ever have lightly concurred in such a confusion of the boundaries of opinion, and, like that mighty river, the Mississippi, whose waters lose their own color in mix- ing with those of the Missouri, have sacrificed the distinctive hue of his own political creed, to this confluence of interests with a party so totally opposed to it. VOL. T. 1 1^' 250 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE " Court and country," says Hume,* " which are the genume offspring of the British government, are a kind of mixed parties, and are influenced both by principle and by interest. The heads of the factions are commonly most governed by the latter mo- live ; the inferior members of them by the former." Whether this be altogether true or not, it will, at least, without much difficulty be conceded, that the lower we descend in the atmos- phere of party, the more quick and inflammable we find the feel- ing that circulates through it. Accordingly, actions and profes- sions, which, in that region of indifference, high life, may be for- gotten as soon as done or uttered, become recorded as pledges and standards of conduct, among the lower and more earnest adherents of the cause ; and many a question, that has ceased to furnish even a jest in the drawing-rooms of the great, may be still agitated, as of vital importance, among the humbler and less initiated disputants of the party. Such being the tenacious nature of partisanship, and such the watch kept upon every movement of the higher political bodies, we can well imagine what a portent it must appear to distant and unprepared observ- ers, when the stars to which they trusted for guidance are seen to " shoot madly from their spheres," and not only lose them- selves for the time in another system, but unsettle all calcula- tions with respect to their movements for the future. The steps by which, in general, the principles in such transac- tions are gradually reconciled to their own inconsistency — the negotiations that precede and soften down the most salient diffi- culties — the value of the advantages gained, in return for opmions sacrificed — the new points of contact brought out by a change of circumstances, and the abatement or extinction of former differences, by the remission or removal of the causes that pro- voked them, — all these conciliatory gradations and balancing adjustments, which to those who are in the secret may account for, and more or less justify, the alliance of statesmen who dif- fer in their general views of politics, are with difficulty, if at all, * Essay " on the Parties of Great Britain." BIGHT HON. KICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 251 to be explained to the remote multitude of the party, whose habit it is to judge and feel in the gross, and who, as in the case of Lord North and Mr. Fox, can see only the broad and but toe intelligible fact, that the leaders for wh^m both parties had sac- rificed so much — those on one side their interest, and those on the other, perhaps, their consciences — had deserted them to patch up a suspicious alliance with each other, the only open and visible motive to which was the spoil that i{ enabled them to partition between them.. If, indeed, in that barter of opmions and interests, wnich must necessarily take place in Coalitions between the partisans of the People and of the Throne, the former had any thing like an equality of chance, the mere probability of gaining thus any con- cessions in favor of freedom might justify to sanguine minds the occasional risk of the compromise. But it is evident that the result of such bargains m.ust generally be to the advantage of the Crown — the alluvions of power all naturally tend towards that shore. Besides, where there are places as well as princi- ples to be surrendered on one side, there must in return be so much more of principles given up on the other, as will constitute an equivalent to this double sacrifice. The centre of gravity will be sure to lie in that body, which contains within it the source of emoluments and honors, and the other will be forced to revolve implicitly round it. The only occasion at this period on which Mr. Sheridan seems to have alluded to the Coalition, was dm-ing a speech of some length on the consideration of the Preliminary Articles of Peace. Finding himself obliged to advert to the subject, he chose rather to recriminate on the opposite party for the anomaly of their ovrn alliances, than to vindicate that which his distin- guished friend had just formed, and which, in his heart, as has been already stated, he wholly disapproved. The inconsistency of the Tory Lord Advocate (Dundas) in connecting himself with the patron of Equal Representation, Mr. Pitt, and his sup- port of that full recognition of American independence, against which, under the banners of Lord North, he had so obstinately 252 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE combated, afforded to Sheridan's powers of raillery an opportu- nity of display, of which, there is no doubt, he with his accus- tomed felicity availed himself. The reporter of the speech, however, has, as usual, contrived, with an art near akin to that of reducing diamonds to charcoal, to turn all the brilliancy of his wit into dull and opaqu verbiage. It was during this same debate, that he produced that happy retort upon Mr. Pitt, which, for good-humored point and season- ableness, has seldom, if ever, been equalled. *' Mr. Pitt (say the Parliamentary Reports) was pointedly severe on the gentlemen who had spoken against the Address, and particularly on Mr. Sheridan. ' No man admired more than he did the abilities of that Right Honorable Gentleman, the elegant sallies of his thought, the gay effusions of his fancy, his dramatic turns and his epigrammatic point ; and if they were reserved for the proper stage, they would, no doubt, receive what the Honorable Gentleman-s abilities always did receive, the plaudits of the au- dience ; and it would be his fortune " sui plausu gcmdere theatri.'" But this was not the proper scene for the exhibition of those elegancies.' Mr. Sheridan, in rising to explain, said that ' On the particular sort of person- ality which the Right Honorable Gentleman had thought proper to make use of, he need not make any comment. The propriety, the taste, the gentle- manly point of it, must have been obvious to the House. But, said Mr. Sheridan, let me assure the Right Honorable gentleman, that I do now, and will at any time he chooses to repeat this sort of allusion, meet it with the most sincere good-humor. Nay, I will say more— flattered and encoui'aged by the Right Honorable Gentleman's panegyric on my talents, if ever I again engage in the compositions he alludes to, I maybe tempted to an act of presumption — to attempt an improvement on one of Ben Jonson's best characters, the character of the Angry Boy in the Alchymist ' '^ Mr. Sheridan's connection with the stage, though one of the most permanent sources of liis glory, was also a point, upon which, at the commencement of his political career, his pride was most easily awakeued and alarmed. lie, himself, used to tell of the frequent mortifications which he had suHl^red, when at school, from taunting allusions to his father's profession — being called by some of his school-fellows "the player-boy," &c. Mr. Pitt had therefore selected the most sensitive spot for his sarcasm ; and the good temper as well as keenness, with which the thrust RIGHT HON. RIOHAHD BKlKSLEY SHERIDAN. 253 was returned, must have been felt even through all that pride of youth and talent, in wliich the new Chancellor of the Exchequer was then enveloped. There could hardlj, indeed, have been a much greater service rendered to a person in the situation of Mr. Sheridan, than thus affording him an opportunity of silen- cing, once for all, a battery to which this weak point of his pride was exposed, and by which he might otherwise have been kept in continual alarm. This gentlemanlike retort, combined with the recollection of his duel, tended to place him for the future in perfect security agamst any indiscreet tamperings with his personal history.* In the administration, that was now forced upon the court by the Coalition, Mr. Sheridan held the office of Secretary of the Treasury — the other Secretary being Mr. Richard Burke, the brother of the orator. His exertions in the House, while he held this office, were chiefly confined to financial subjects, for which he. perhaps, at this time, acquired the taste, that tempted him afterwards, upon most occasions, to bring his arithmetic into the field against Mr. Pitt. His defence of the Receipt Tax, — • which, like all other long-lived taxes, was borne v/ith difficulty,— appears, as far as we can judge of it from the Report, to have been highly amusing. Some country-gentleman having recom- * The following jeu d^esprit, wrillen by Sheridan himself upon iliis occurrence, has been found among his manuscripts : — " Advertisement extraordinary. " We hear that, in consequence of a hint, lately given in the House of Commons, the Play of the Alchemist is certainly to be performed by a set of Gentlemen for our diversion in a private apartment of Buckingham House. " The Characters, thus described in the old editions of Ben Jonson, are to be represented in tlie following manner — the old practice of men's playing the female parts being adopt- ed. "Subtle (the Alchemist) . Face (the House-keeper) Doll Common (th£ir Colleague) Drugger (a Tobacco-man) Epicure I^Iammon . Tribulation . Ananias (a little Pastor) Kasfrill (th£ Angry B >y) Dame Pt.tant .... and Surly , , Lord Sh— 11)— e. The Lord Ch— 11— r. The I^-d Adv— c— te. Lord Eff— ng — m. Mr. R— by. Dr. J — nk — s — n. Mr. H— U. Mr. W. P— tt. Gen. C — nw — y His » 254 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE mended a tax upon grave-stones as a substitute for itj Sheridan replied that " Such a tax, indeed, was not easily evaded, and could not be deemed op- pressive, as it would only be once paid ; but so great was the spirit of clamor against the tax on receipts, that he should not wonder if it extend- ed to them ; and that it should be asserted, that persons having paid the last debt, — the debt of nature, — government had resolved they should pay a receipt-tax, and have it stamped over their grave. Nay, with so extraor- dinary a degree of inveteracy were some Committees in the city, and else- where, actuated, that if a receipt-tax of the nature in question Vv^as enacted, he should not be greatly surprised if it were soon after published, that such Committees had unanimously resolved that they would never be buried, in order to avoid paying the tax ; but had determined to lie above ground, or have their ashes consigned to family-urns, in the manner of the ancients.^' He also took an active share in the discussions relative to the restoration of Powell and Bembridge to their offices by Mr. Burke : — a transaction which, without fixing any direct stigma upon that eminent man, subjected him, at least, to the unlucky suspicion of being less scrupulous in his notions of official purity, than became the party which he espoused or the principles of Eeform that he inculcated. Little as the Court was disposed, during the late reign, to re- tain Whigs in its service any longer than was absolutely neces- sary, it must be owned that neither did the latter, in general, take very courtier-like modes of continuing their connection with Royalty ; but rather chose to meet the hostility of the Crown half-way, by some overt act of imprudence or courage, which at once brought the matter to an issue between them. Of this hardihood the India Bill of Mr. Fox was a remarkable example — and he was himself fully aware of the risk which he ran in |)roposing it. "He knew," he said, in his speech upon first bringing forward the question, '' that the task he had that day set himself was extremely arduous and difficult ; he knew that he had con- siderable risk in it ; but when he took upon himself an office of responsibility, he had made up his mind to the situation and the danger of it. ' Without agreeing ^vith those who impute to Mr. Fox the ex- travagant design of investing himself, by means of this Bill, with RIGHT HON. RICHi.KL BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 255 a sort of perpetual Whig Dictatorship, independent of the will of the Crown, it must nevertheless be allowed that, together with the interests of India, which were the main object of this decisive measure, the future interests and influence of his own party vrere in no small degree provided for ; and that a foundation was laid by it for their attainment of a more steady footing in power than, from the indisposition of the Court towards them, they had yet been able to accomplish. Regarding — as he well might, after so long an experience of Tory misrule — a government upon Whig principles as essential to the true interests of England, and hopeless of seeing the experiment at all fairly tried, as long as the political existence of the servants of the Crown w^as left dependent upon the caprice or treachery of their master, he would naturally w^elcome such an accession to the influence of the party as might strengthen their claims to power when out of oflice, and render their possession of it, when in, more secure and useful. These objects the Bill in question would have, no doubt, effected. By turning the Pactolus of Indian patronage into the territories of Whiggism, it w^ould have attracted new swarms of settlers to that region, — the Court would have found itself out- bid in the markei, —and, however the principles of the party might eventually have fared, the party itself would have been so far triumphant. It w^as indeed, probably, the despair of ever obtaining admission for Whiggism, in its unalloyed state, into the councils of the S^/vereign, that reconciled Mr. Fox to the rash step of debasing it down to the Court standard by the Coalition — and, having once gained possession of power by these means, he saw, in the splendid provisions of the India Bill, a chance of being able to transmit it as an heir-loom to his party, which, though conscious of the hazard, he was determined to try. If his intention, therefore, was, as his enemies say, to establish a Dictatorship in his own person, it was, at the worst, such a Dictatorship as the Romans sometimes created, for the purpose of averting the plague — and would have been di- rected merely against that pestilence of Toryism, under which the prosperity of England had, he thought, languished so long 256 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE It was hardly, however, to be expected of Eoyalty, — even after the double hiimiliation which it had suffered, in being van- quished by rebels under one branch of the Coalition, and brow- beaten into acknowledging their independence oj the other — that it would tamely submit to such an undisguised invasion of its sanctuary ; particularly when the intruders had contrived their operations so ill, as to array the people in hostility against them, as well as the Throne. Never was there an outcry against a ministry so general and decisive. Dismissed insultingly by the King on one side, they had to encounter the mdignation of the people on the other ; and, though the House of Commons, with a fidelity to fallen ministers sufficiently rare, stood by them for a time in a desperate struggle with their successors, the voice of the Royal Prerogative, like the horn of Astolpho, soon scattered the whole body in consternation among their constituents, " di qua, di la, di su, di giic,^^ and the result was a complete and long-enjoyed triumph to the Throne and Mr. Pitt. Though the name of Mr. Fox is indissolubiy connected with this Bill, and though he bore it aloft, as fondly as Caesar did his own Commentaries, through all this troubled sea of opposition, it is to Mr. Burke that the first daring outline of the plan, as well as the chief materials for filling it up, are to be attributed. — whilst to Sir Arthur Pigot's able hand was entrusted the legal task of drawing the Bill. The intense interest which Burke took in the affairs of India had led him to lay in such stores of infor- mation on the subject, as naturally gave him the lead in all deliberations connected vnth it. His labors for the Select Committee, the Ninth Report of which is pregnant with iis mighty mind, may be considered as the source and foundation of this Bill — while of the under-plot, which had in view the strengthening of the Whig interest, we find the germ in his " Thoughts on the present Discontents," where, in pointing out the advantage to England of being ruled by such a confederacy, he says, " In one of the most fortunate periods of our history, this country was governed by a connection ; I mean the great connection of Whigs in the reign of Queen Anne.*' mGHT HON. EICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 257 Burke was, indeed, at this time the actuating spirit of the party — as he must have been of any party to which he attached himself. Keeping, as he did, the double engines of his genius and his industry incessan ly in play over the minds of his more indolent colleagues, with an intentness of purpose that nothing could divert, and an impetuosity of temper that nothing could resist, it is not wonderful that he should have gained such an entire mastery over their wills, or that the party who obeyed him should so long have exhibited the mark of his rash spirit imprinted upon their measures. The yielding temper of Mr. Fox, together with his unbounded admiration of Burke, led him easily, in the first instance, to acquiesce in the views of his friend, and then the ardor of his ?wn nature, and the self-kindling power of his eloquence, threw an earnestness and fire into his public enforcement of those views, which made even himself forget that they were but adopted from another, and impressed upon his hearers the conviction that they were all, and from the first, his own. We read his speeches in defence of the India Bill with a sort of breathless anxiety, which no other political discourses, except those, perhaps, of Demosthenes, could produce. The impor- tance of the stake wKich he risks — the boldness of his plan — the gallantry with which he flings himself into the struggle, and the frankness of personal feeling that breathes throughout — all throw around him an interest, like that which encircles a hero of ro- mance ; nor could the most candid autobiography that ever was written exhibit the whole character of the man more transpa- rently through it. The death of this ill-fated Ministry was worthy of its birth. Originating in a Coalition of Whigs and Tories, w^hich compro- mised the principles of freedom, it was destroyed by a Coalition of King and People, which is even, perhaps, more dangerous to its p^aciice.'^ The conduct, indeed, of all estates and parties, * *' This assumption (says Burke) of the Tribimitian power by the Sovereign was truly alarming. Wlien Augustus Csesar modestly cons^nted to become the Tribune of the peo pie, Rome gave up into the hands of that prince the only remaining shield she had to pro- tect her liberty, The Tribunitian power m this country, as in ancient Pvonie, was wisely 258 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THfi during th s short interval, was any thing but laudable. The lea- ven of the unlucky alliance with Lord North was but too visi- ble in many of the measures of the Ministry — in the jobbing terms of the loan, the resistance to Mr. Pitt's plan of retrench- ment, and the diminished numbers on the side of Parliamentary Reform.* On the other hand, Mr. Pitt and his party, in their eagerness for place, did not hesitate to avail themselves of the ambidexterous and unworthy trick of representing the India Bill to the people, as a Tory plan for the increase of Royal influence, and to the King, as a Whig conspiracy for the curtailment of it. The King himself, in his arbitrary interference with the deliberar- tions of the Lords, and the Lords, in the prompt servility with which so many of them obeyed his bidding, gave specimens of their respective branches of the Constitution, by no means cre- ditable — while finally the people, by the unanimous outcry with which they rose, in defence of the monopoly of Leadenhall Street and the sovereign will of the Court, proved how little of the " vox i)ei" there may sometimes be in such clamor. Mr. Sheridan seems to have spoken but once during the dis- cussions on the India Bill, and that was on the third reading, when it was carried so triumphantly through th^ House of Com- mons. The report of his speech is introduced with the usual tantalizing epithets, " witty," " entertaining," &c. &c. ; but, as usual, entails disappointment in the perusal — " at cum intraveris, Dii Deceque, quam nihil in medio invenies .^"f There is only one kept distinct and separate from the executive powf^r ; in this government it was constitu- tionally lodged where it was naturally to be lodged, in the House of Commons ; and to that House the people ought first to carry their complaints, even when they were directed against the measures of the House itself. But now the people were taught to pass by the door of the House of Commons and supplicate the Throne for the protection of their liber- ties." — Speech on moving his Representation to the King, in June, 1784, * The consequences of this alloy were still more visible in Ireland. "The Coalition Ministry," says Mr. Hardy, "displayed itself in various employments — but there was no harmony. The old courtiers hated the new, and being more dexterous, were more suc- cessful." In stating that Lord Charlemont was but coldly receive^ by the Lord Lieuten- ant, Lord Northmgton, Mr. Hardy adds, "It is to be presumed thai some of the old Court, who in consequence of the Coalition had crept once more into favor, influenced bis con- duct in this particular. ' ' t Plmy. EIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 259 of the announced pleasantries forthcoming, in any shape, through the speech. Mr. Scott (the present Lord Eldon) had, in the course of the debate, indulged in a license of Scriptural parody, which he would himself, no doubt, be among the first to stigma- tize as blasphemy in others, and had affected to discover the rudi- ments of the India Bill in a Chapter of the Book of Revelations, — Babylon being the East India Company, Mr. Fox and his seven Commissioners the Beast with the seven heads, and the marks on the hand and forehead, imprinted by the Beast upon those around him, meaning, evidently, he said, the peerages, pensions, and places distributed by the minister. In answering this strange sally of forensic wit, Mr. Sheridan quoted other passages from the same Sacred Book, which (as the Reporter gravely assures us) " told strongly for the Bill," and which proved that Lord Fitz- wdlliam and his fellow-commissioners, instead of being the seven heads of the Beast, were seven Angels " clothed in pure and white linen !" 260 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE CHAPTER IX. the prince of wales. — financial measures. — mr. Pitt's east india bill. — irish commercial propo- sitions. — PLAN OF THE DUKE OF RICHMOND. — SINK- ING FUND. The Whigs, who had now every reason to be convinced of the aversion with which they were regarded at court, had latel} been, in some degree, compensated for this misfortune by the ac- cession to their party of the Heir Apparent, who had, since the year 1783, been in the enjoyment of a separate establishment, and taken his seat in the House of Peers as Duke of (Cornwall. That a young prince, fond of pleasure and impatient of restraint, should have thrown himself into the arms of those who were most likely to be indulgent to his errors, is nothing surprising, either in politics or ethics. But that mature and enlightened statesmen, with the lessons of all history before their eyes, should have been equally ready to embrace such a rash alliance, or should count upon it as any more than a temporary instrument of faction, is, to say the least of it, one of those self-delusions of the wise, which show how vainly the voice of the Past may speak amid the loud appeals and temptations of the Present. The last Prince of Wales, it is true, by whom the popular cause was espoused, had left the lesson imperfect, by dying before he came to the throne. But this deficiency has since been amply made up ; and future Whigs, who may be placed in similar cir- cumstances, will have, at least, one historical warnincr before their eyes, which ought to be enough to satisfy the most unreflecting and credulous. In some points, the l^'cach that now took place between the 'RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 261 Prince and the King, bore a close resemblance to that which had disturbed the preceding reign. In both cases, the Royal parents were harsh and obstinate — in both cases, money was the chief source of dissension — and, in both cases, the genius, wit, and ac- complishments of those with whom the Heir Apparent connected himself, threw a splendor round the political bond between them, which prevented even themselves from perceiving its looseness and fragility. In the late question of Mr. Fox's India Bill, the Prince of Wales had voted with his political friends in the first division. But, upon finding afterwards that the King was hostile to the measure, his Royal Highness took the prudent step (and with Mr. Fox's full concurrence) of absenting himself entirely from the se- cond discussion, when the Bill, as it is known, was finally defeated. This circumstance, occurring thus early in their intercourse, might have proved to each of the parties in this ill-sorted alliance, how difficult it was for them to remain long and creditably united."^ On the one side, there was a character to be maintained with the people, which a too complaisant toleration of the errors of roy- * Tiie following sensible remarks upon the first interruption of the political connection between the Heir Apparent and the Opposition, are from an unfinished Life of Mr. Sheri- dan now in my possession — written by one whose boyhood was pas'sed in the society of the great men whom he undertook to commemorate, and whose station and lalenls would liave given to such a work an authenticity and value, that would have rendered the hum- ble memorial, which I have atte-mpted, unnecessary : — "His Royal Highness acted upon this occasion by Mr. Fox's advice and with pert ect propriety. At the same time the necessity under which he found himself of so acting may serve as a general warning to Princes of the Blood in this country, to abstain from connecting themselves with party, and engaging either as active supporters or opponents of the administration of the day. The ties of family, the obligations of their siluation, the feelings of the public assuredly will condemn them, at some time or other, as in the present instance, to desert their own public acts, to fail in their private professions, and to leave their friends at the very mointnt, in which service and support are the most in> periously required. "Princes are always suspected proselytes to the popular side. Conscious of this sus- picion, they strive to do it away by exaggerated professions, and by bringing to the party v/hich they espouse more violent opinions and more unmeasured language than any which they find. These mighty promises they soon fuid it unreasonable, impossible, in- convenient to fulfil. Their dereliction of their principles becomes manifest and indefensi- ble, in proportion to the vehemence with which they have pledged themselves always tc maintain them ; r.nd the contempt and indignation which accompanie.s their retreat ie equivalent to the expectations excited by the boldness and detei nination of their ad 262 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE aity might — and, as it happened, did compromise ; while, on the other side, there were the obligations of filial duty, which, as in this instance of the India Bill, made desertion decorous, at a time when co-operation would have been most friendly and de- sirable. There was also the perpetual consciousness of being destined to a higher station, in which, while duty would perhaps demand an independence of all party whatever, convenience would certainly dictate a release from the restraints of Whig- gism. It was most fortunate for Mr. Sheridan, on the rout of his party that ensued, to find himself safe in his seat for Stafford once more, and the following document, connected with his elec- tion, is sufficiently curious, in more respects than one, to be laid before the reader : R, B. Sheridan, Esq. Expenses at the Borough of Stafford for Election., Anno 1784. 284 Burgesses, paid £5 5 each £1,302 Yearly Expenses since. £ 8. d. House-rent and taxes 23 6 6 Servant at 6s. per week, board wages. ... 15 12 Ditto, yearly wages * 8 8 Coals,&c 10 Ale tickets 40 Half the members' plate 25 Swearing young burgesses 10 Subscription to the Infirmary 5 5 Ditto Clergymen's widows 2 2 Ringers 4 4 86 11 One year 143 17 6 Multiplied by years. ... 6 863 5 Total expense of six years' parliament, exclusive of ex- pense incurred during the time of election, and your own annual expenses ., £2,165 5 RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 263 The followers of the Coalition had been defeated in almost all directions, and it was computed that no less than 160 of them had been left upon the field, — with no other consolation than what their own wit afforded them, in the title which they be- stowed upon themselves of " Fox's Martyrs." This reduction in the ranks of his enemies, at the very com- mencement of his career, left an open space for the youthful minister, which was most favorable to the free display of his energies. He had, indeed, been indebted, throughout the whole struggle, full as much to a lucky concurrence of circumstances as to his talents and name for the supremacy to which he so rapidly rose. All the other eminent persons of the day had ei- ther deeply entangled themselves in party ties, or taken the gloss off their reputations by some unsuccessful or unpopular measures ; and as he was the only man independent enough of the House of Commons to be employed by the King as a weapon against it, so was he the only one sufficiently untried in public life, to be able to draw unlimitedly on the confidence of the people, and array them, as he did, in all the enthusiasm of igno- rance, on his side. Without these two advantages, which he owed to his youth and inexperience, even loftier talents than his would have fallen far short of his triumph. The financial affairs of the country, which the war had consider- ably deranged, and which none of the ministries that ensued felt sure enough of themselves to attend to, were, of course, among the first and most anxious objects of his administration ; and the wisdom of the measures which he brought forward for their amelioration was not only candidly acknowledged by his oppo- nents at the time, but forms at present the least disputable ground, upon which his claim to reputation as a finance-minister rests. Having found, on his accession to power, an annual defi- ciency of several millions in the revenue, he, in the course of two years, raised the income of the country so high as to afford a surplus for the establishment of his Sinking Fund. Nor did his merit lie only in the mere increase of income, but in the generally sound principles of the taxation by which he apcpm 264 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE plished it, in the improvements introduced into the collection of the revenue, and the reform effected in the offices connected with it, by the simplification of the mode of keeping public accounts. Though Mr. Sheridan delivered his opinion upon many of the taxes proposed, his objections were rather to the details than the general object of the measures ; and it may be reckoned, indeed, a part of the good fortune of the minister, that the financial de- partment of Opposition at this time was not assumed by any more adventurous calculator, who might have perplexed him, at least by ingenious cavils, however he might have failed to defeat him by argument. As it was, he had the field almost entirely to himself; for Sheridan, though acute, was not industrious enough to be formidable, and Mr. Fox, from a struggle, perhaps, between candor and party-feeling, absented himself almost entirely from the discussion of the new taxes.* The only questions, in which the angry spirit of the late con- flict still survived, were the Westminster Scrutiny and Mr. Pitt's East India Bill. The conduct of the minister in the former trans- action showed that his victory had not brought with it those generous feelings towards the vanquished, which, in the higher order of minds, follows as naturally as the calm after a tempest. There must, indeed, have been something peculiarly harsh and unjust in the proceedings against his great rival on this occasion, which could induce so many of the friends of the minister — then in the fulness of his popularity and power — to leave" him in a minority and vote against the continuance of the Scrutiny. To this persecution, however, we are indebted for a speech of Mr. Fox, which is (as he, himself, in his opening, pronounced it would be) one of his best and noblest ; and which is reported, too, with such evident fidelity, as well as spirit, that we seem to hear, while we read, the " Demosthenem ipsuin''' uttering it. Sheridan had, it appears, written a letter, about this time, to his brother Charles, in which, after expressing the feelings of * "He had absented himself," he said, "upon principle ; that, though he might not be able to approve of the measures which had been adopted, he did not at the same time think hiif self authorized to condemn them, or to give them opposition, un'ess he had been ready to suggest others less distressing to the sul^ject " — Speech on Navy Bills, dec. c£c. RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 265 himself and his brother Whigs, at the late unconstitutional vio tory over their party, he added, " But you are all so void of principle, in Ireland, that you cannot enter into our situation." Charles Sheridan, who, in the late changes, had not thought it necessary to pay his principles the compliment of sacrificing his place to them, considered himself, of course, as included in this stigma ; and the defence of time-serving politics which he has set up in his answer, if not so eloquent as that of the great Ro- man master of this art in his letter to L^ntulus, is, at least, as self-conscious and labored, and betrays altogether a feeling but too worthy of the political meridian f ^om which it issued. "My dear Dick, Dublin Castle, lOth March, 1784. " I am much obliged to you for the letter you sent me by Orde ; I began to think you had forgot I was in existence, but 1 forgive your past silence on account of your recent kind atten- tion. The new Irish administration have come with the olive branch in their hand, and very wisely, I thinK ; the system, ^he circumstances, and the manners cf the two count.rip^ are so to- tally different, that I can assure you nothing could be so absurd as any attempt to extend the party-distinctions which prevail on your side of the water, to this. Nothing, I will venture to as- sert, can possibly preserve the connection between England and Ireland, but a permanent government here, acting upon fixed principles, and pursuing systematic measures. For this reason a change of Chief Governor, ought to be nothing more than a simple transfer of government, and by no means to make any change in that political system respecting this country which England must adopt, let who will be the minister and whichever party may acquire the ascendancy, if she means to preserve Ire- land as a part of the British empire. "You will say this is a very good plan for people in place, as it tends to secure them against all contingencies, but this, I give you my word, is not my reason for thinking as I do. I must, in the first place, acquaint you that there never can be hereafter in this country any such thing as party connections founded upon yoL J. 1? 266 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE political principles ; we have obtained all the great objects fol which Ireland had contended for many years, and there does not now remain one national object of sufficient importance to unite men in the same pm^siiit. Nothing but such objects ever did unite men in tliis kingdom, and that not from principle, but be- cause the spirit of the people was so far roused with respect to points in which the pride, the interest, the commerce, and the prosperity of the nation at large was so materially concerned, that the House of Commons, if they had not the virtue to for- ward, at least wanted the courage to oppose, the general and de- termined wish of the whole kingdom ; they therefore made a virtue of necessity, joined the standard of a very small popular party ; both Ins and Oxcts voted equally against government, the latter of course, and the former because each individual thought himself safe in the number who followed his example. " This is the only instance, I beJieve, in the history of Irish politics, where a party ever appeared to act upon public princi- ple, and as the cause of this singular instance has been removed by the attainment of the only objecto which could have united men in one pursuit, it is not probable that we shall in future fur- nish any other example that will do honor to our public spirit. If you reflect an instant, you w^ill perceive that our subordinate situation necessarily prevents the foimation of any party among us, like those you have in England, 3omDOsed of persons acting upon certain principles, and pledged to support each other. I am willing to allow you that your exertions are directed by public spirit ; but if those exertions did net lead to power ^ you must acknowledge that it is probable they would not be m.ade, or, if made, that they would not be of much ust-. The object of a party in England is either to obtain power for themselves, or to take it from those who are in possession of it — they may do this from the purest motives, and with the truest regard for the public good, but still you must allow that power is a very tempting object, the hopes of obtaining it no small incentive to their exertions, and the consequences of success to the individuals of which the party is composed, no small strengthening to the RIGHT HOK. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 267 bands which unite them together. Now, il' you were to expect similar parties to be formed in Ireland, you would exact of us more virtue than is necessary for yourselves. From the pecu- liar situation of this country it is impossible that the exertions of any party here can ever lead to loower. Here then is one very tempting object placed out of our reach, and, with it, all those looked-for consequences to individuals, which, with you, induce them to pledge themselves to each other ; so that nothing but poor public spirit would be left to keep our Irish party together, and consequently a greater degree of disinterestedness would be necessary in them, than is requisite in one of your English parties. " That no party exertion here can ever lead to power is ob- vious when you reflect, that we have in fact no Irish government ; all power here being lodged in a branch of the English govern- ment, we have no cabinet, no administration of our own, no great offices of state, every office we have is merely ministerial, it confers no power but that of giving advice, which may or may not be followed by the Chief Governor. As all power, there- fore, is lodged solely in the English government, of which the Irish is only a branch, it necessarily follows that no exertion of any party here could ever lead to power, unless they overturned the English government in this country, or unless the efforts of such a party in the Irish House of Commons could overturn the British administration in England, and the leaders of it get into their places ; — the first, you will allow, would not be a very wise ob- ject, and the latter you must acknowledge to be impossible. " Upon the same principle, it would be found very difficult to form a party in this country which should co-operate with any particular party in England, and consent to stand or fall with them. The great leading interests in this kingdom are of course strongly averse to forming any such connections on your side of the water, as it would tend to create a fluctuation in the affairs of this country, that would destroy all their consequence ; and, as to the personal friends which a party in England may possi- bly have in this country, they must in the nature of things be 268 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE few in number, and consequently could only injure themselves by following the fortunes of a party in England, without being able to render that party the smallest service. And, at all events, to such persons this could be nothing but a losing game. It would be, to refuse to avail themselves of their connections or talents in order to obtain office or honors, and to rest all their pretensions upon the success of a party in another kingdom, to which success they could not in the smallest degree contribute. You will admit that to a party in England, no friends on this side of the water would be worth having who did not possess connections or talents ; and if they did possess these, they must of course force themselves into station, let the government of this country be in whose hands it may, and that upon a much more permanent footing than if they were connected with a par- ty in England. What therefore could they gain by such a con- nection ? nothing but the virtue of self-denial, in continuing out of office as long as their friends were so, the chance of coming in, when their friends obtained power, and only the chance, for there are interests in this country which must not be offended ; and the certainty of going out whenever their friends in Eng- land should be dismissed. So that they would exchange the certainty of station upon a permanent footing acquired by their own efforts, connections or talents, for the chance of station upon a most precarious footing, in which they would be placed in the insignificant predicament of doing nothing for themselves, and resting their hopes and ambition upon the labors of others. " In addition to what I have said respecting the consequences of the subordinate situation of this country, you are to take into consideration how peculiarly its inhabitants are circumstanced. Two out of three millions are Roman Catholics — I believe the proportion is still larger — and two-thirds of the remainder are violent rank Presbyterians, who have always been, but most particularly of late, strongly averse to all government placed in the hands of the members of the church of England ; nine-tenths of the property, the landed property of the country I mean, is in the possession of the latter. You will readily conceive how RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 269 much these circumstances must give persons of property in this kingdom a leaning towards government ; how necessarily they must make them apprehensive for themselves, placed between such potent enemies ; and how naturally it must make them look up to English government, in whatever hands it may be, for that strength and support, which the smallness of their numbers pre- vents their finding among themselves ; and conseque^ntly you w^ill equally perceive that those political or party principles which create such serious differences among you in England, are matters of small importance to the persons of landed property in this country, when compared with the necessity of their hav- ing the constant support of an English government. Here, my dear Dick, is a very long answer to a very few lines in your postscript. But I could not avoid boring you on the subject, when you say ^ that we are all so void of principle that we can- not enter into your situation.' " I have received with the greatest pleasure the accounts of the very considerable figure you have made this sessions in the House of Commons. As I have no doubt but that your Parlia- ment will be. dissolved, God send you success a second time at Stafford, and the same to your friend at Westminster. I will not forgive you if you do not give me the first intelligence of both those events. I shall say nothing to you on the subject of your English politics, only that I feel myself much more partial to one side of the question than, in my present situation, it would be of any use to me to avow. I am the happiest domestic man in the world, and am in daily expectation of an addition to that happiness, and ow^n that a home, which I never leave without re- gret, nor return to without delight, has somewhat abated my passion for politics, and that warmth I once felt about public questions. But it has not abated the warmth of my private friendships ; it has not abated my regard for Fitzpatrick, my anxiety for you, and the warmth of my wishes for the success of your friends, considering them as such. I beg my love to Mrs. Sheridan and Tom, and am, dear Dick, " Most atfectionately yours, C. F. Sheridan." 270 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE With respect to the Bill for the better government of Tndia, which Mr. Pitt substituted for that of his defeated rival, its pr> visions are now, from long experience, so familiarly known, that it would be superfluous to dwell upon either their merits or defects.* The two important points in which it diifered from the measure of Mr. Fox were, m leaving the management of their commercial concerns still in the hands of the Company, and in making the Crown the virtual depositary of Indian patron- age,f instead of suffering it to be diverted into the channels of the Whig interest, — never, perhaps, to find its way back again. In which of these directions such an accession of power might, with least mischief to the Constitution, be bestowed, having the experience only of the use made of it on one side, we cannot, with any certainty, pretend to determine. One obvious result of this transfer of India to the Crown has been that smoothness so re- markable in the movements of the system ever since — that easy and noiseless play of its machinery, which the lubricating contact of Influence alone could give, and which was wholly unknown in Indian policy, till brought thus by Mr. Pitt under ministerial con- trol. When we consider the stormy course of Eastern politics before that period — the inquiries, the exposures, the arraignments that took place — the constant hunt after Indian delinquency, in which Ministers joined no less keenly than the Opposition — and then compare all this with the tranquillity that has reigned, since the halcyon incubation of the Board of Control over the waters, * Tliree of the principal provisions were copied from the Propositions of Lord North in 1781 — in allusion to which Mr. Powys said of the measure, that "it was the voice of Ja- cob, but the hand of Esau."' f " Mr. Pitt's Bill continues the form of the Company's government, and professes to leave the patronage under certain conditions, and the commerce without condition, in the hands of the Company ; but j)laces all matters relating to the civil and military govern- ment and revenues in the hands of six Commissioners, to be nominated and appointed by His Majesty, under the title of 'Commissioners of the Afiairs of India,' which Board of Commissioners is invested with the ' superintendence and control over all the British ter- ritorial possessions in the East Indies, and over the affairs of the United Company of Mer- chants trading thereto.' " — Comparative Statement of the Two Bills, read from his place by Mr. Sheridan, on the Discussion of the Declaratory Acts in 1788, and afterwards published. In another part of this statement he says, "The present Board of Control have, under Mr. Pitt's Bill, usurped those very imperial prerogatives from the Crovni, which were falsely said to have been given to the new Board of Directors under Mr. Fox's Bill.'^ iiiaHT Ron. kichabd briksley shekidan. 271 — though we may allow the full share that actual reform and a better system of government may claim in this change, there is still but too much of it to be attributed to causes of a less elevated nature, — to the natural abatement of the watchfulness of the minister, over affairs no longer in the hands of others, and to that power of Influence, which, both at home and abroad, is the great and ensuring bond of tranquillity, and, like the Chain of Silence mentioned in old Irish poetry, binds all that come within its reach in the same hushing spell of compromise and repose. It was about this time that, in the course of an altercation with Mr. Eolle, the member for Devonshire, Mr. Sheridan took the opportunity of disavowing any share in the political satires then circulating, under the titles of " The Rolliad " and the " Proba- tionary Odes." " He was aware," he said, "that the Honorable Gentlemen had suspected that he was either the author of those compositions, or some way or other concerned in them ; but he assured them, upon his honor, he was not — nor had he ever seen a line of them till they were in print in the newspaper." Mr. Rolle, the hero of The Rolliad, was one of those unlucky persons, whose destiny it is to be immortalized by ridicule, and to whom the world owes the same sort of gratitude for the wit of which they were the butts, as the merchants did, in Sinbad's story, to those pieces of meat to which diamonds adhered. The chief offence, besides his political obnoxiousness, by which he provoked this satirical warfare, (whose plan of attack was all arranged at a club held at Becket's,) was the lead which he took in a sort of conspiracy, formed on the ministerial benches, tc interrupt, by coughing, hawking, and other unseemly noises, the speeches of Mr. Burke. The chief writers of these lively pro- ductions were Tickell, General Fitzpatrick,* Lord John •(• Towns * To General Fitzpatrick some of the happiest pleasantries are to be attributed ; amonj- others, the verses on Brooke Watson, those on the Marquis of Graham, and "The Liars." f Lord John Townshend, the only survivor, at present, of this confederacy of wits, was the author, in conjunction with Tickell. of Hie admirable Satire, entitled " Jekyll," — Tickell havmg contributed only the lines pM.rodied from Pope. To the exquisite humor of Lord Jonn we owe also the Probationary Ode for Major i-'cott, and the playful parody on " Donee gratus exam tibi.^' 272 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE hend, Richardson, George Ellis, and Dr. Lawrence.* There were also a few minor contributions from the pens of Bate Dud- ley, Mr. O'Beirne (afterwards Bishop of Meath), and Sheridan's friend, Read. In two of the writers, Mr. Ellis and Dr. Law- rence, we have a proof of the changeful nature of those atoms, whose concourse for the time constitutes Party, and of the vola- tilit} with which, like the motes in the sunbeam, described by Lucretius, they can ^' Commutare viam, retroque repulsa reverti Nunc hue, nunc illuCy in cunctas denique partes.'^ Change their light course, as fickle chance may guide, Now here, now there, and shoot from side to side. Dr. Lawrence was afterwards a violent supporter of Mr. Pitt, and Mr. Ellisf showed the versatility of his wit, as well as of his politics, by becoming one of the most brilliant contributors to The Antijacobin. TheRolliad and The Antijacobin may, on their respective sides of the question, be considered as models of that style of political satire,J whose lightness and vivacity give it the appearance of * By Doctor Lawrence the somewhat ponderous irony of the prosaic department was chiefly manaj^ed. In alhision to the personal appearance of this eminent civilian, one of the wits of the day thus parodied a passage of Virgil : " Quo fetrior alter Non fuit, excepto IjimTenth corpore Tuimi.^' f It is related that, on one occasion, when Mr. Ellis was dining with Mr. Pitt, and em- barrassed naturally'- by the recollection of what he had been guilty of towards his host in The Rolliad, some of his brother-wits, to amuse themselves at his expense, endeavored to lead the conversation to the suhiect of this work, by asking him various questions, as to its authors, &c., — which Mr. Pitt overhearing, from the upper end of the table, leaned kindly towards Ellis and said, *' Immo age, et a prima, die, hospes, origine nobis.'' ^ The word " hospes,^^ applied to the new convert, was happy, and the '■'■ errorezque tuos,^^ Iha* follows, was, perhaps, left to be implied. X The following just observations upon The Rolliad and Probationary Odes occur m the manuscript Life of Sheridan which I have already cited : — '-They are, in most instances, specimens of the powers of men, who, giving themselves up lo ease and pleasure, neither improved their minds with great industry, nor exerted them with much activity ; and have therefore left no very considerable nor durable memorials ot the liappy and vigorous abil- iiics with which nature had Cc rtainly endowed tliem. The effusions themselves are full of felGHT HON. RICHARD BRlKSLEY SHERIDAN. 27S proceeding rather from the wantonness of wit than of ill-nature, and whose very malice, from the fancy with which it is mixed up, like certain kinds of fireworks, explodes in sparkles. They, however, who are most inclined to forgive, in consideration of its polish and playfulness, the personality in which the writers of both these works indulged, will also readily admit that by no less shining powers can a license so questionable be either as- sumed or palliated, and that nothing but the lively effervescence of the draught can. make us forget the bitterness infused into it. At no time was this truth ever more strikingly exemplified than at present, when a separation seems to have taken place between satire and wit, which leaves the former like the toad, without the "jewel in its head;" and when the hands, into which the weapon of personality has chiefly fallen, have brought upon it a stain and disrepute, that vdU long keep such writers as those of the Rolliad and Antijacobin from touching it again. Among other important questions, that occupied the attention of Mr. Sheridan at this period, was the measure brought forward under the title of '* Irish Commercial Propositions " for the pur- pose of regulating and finally adjusting the ' commercial inter- course between England and Ireland. The line taken by him and Mr. Fox in their opposition to this plan was such as to ac- cord, at once with the prejudices of the English manufacturers and the feelings of the Irish patriots, — the former regarding the measure as fatal to their interests, and the latter rejecting with fortunate allusions, ludicrous terms, artful panegyric, and well-ainied satire. The verses are at times far superior to the occasion, and the whole is distinguished by a taste, both in language and matter, perfectly pure and classical ; but they are mere occasional pro- ductions. They will sleep with the papers of the Craftsman, so vaunted in their own lime, but which are never now raked up, except by the curiosity of the historian and the man of literature. "Wit, being generally founded upon the manners and charact-rs of its own day, is crowned in that day, beyond all other exertions of the mind, with splendid and mime- diate success. Bat there is always something that equalizes. In return, more than any other production, it suffers suddenly and irretrievably from the hand of Time. It receives a character the most opposite to its own. From being the most generally understood and perceived, it becomes of all writing the most difficult and the most obscure. Satires, whose meaning was open to the multitude, defy the erudition of the scholar, and comedies, of which every line was felt as soon as it was spok3n, require the labor of an antiquary lo explain them.' VOL. I. 12* 274 MEMOIKS OF THE LIFE OF THE indignation the boon which it offered, as coupled with a condition for the surrender of the legislative independence of their country. In correct viows of political economy, the advantage through- out this discussion was wholly on the side of the minister ; and, in a speech of Mr. Jenkinson, we find (advanced, indeed, but incidentally, and treated by Mr. Fox as no more than amusing theories,) some of those liberal principles of trade which have since been more fully developed, and by which the views of all practical statesmen are, at the present day, directed. The little interest attached by Mr. Fox to the science of Political Economy — so remarkably proved by the fact of his never having read the work of Adam Smith on the subject — is, in some degree, ac- counted for by the skepticism of the following passage, which occurs in one of his animated speeches on this very question. Mr. Pitt having asserted, in answer to those who feared the competition of Ireland in the market from her low prices of labor, that "great capital would in all cases overbalance cheap- ness of labor," Mr. Fox questions the abstract truth of this position, and adds, — " General positions of all kinds ought to be very cautiously admitted ; indeed, on subjects so infinitely com- plex and mutable as politics and commerce, a wise man hesitates at giving too implicit a credit to any general maxim of any de- nomination." If the surrender of any part of her legislative power could have been expected from Ireland in that proud moment, when her new-born Independence was but just beginning to smile in her lap, the acceptance of the terms then profiered by the Minister, might have averted much of the evils, of which she was after- wards the victim. The proposed plan being, in itself, (as Mr. Grattan called it,) " an incipient and creeping Union," would have prepare^d the way less violently for the completion of that fated measure, and spared at lo.ast the corruption and the blood which were the preliminaries of its perpetration at last. But the pride, so natural and honorable to the Irish — had fate but placed them in a situation to assert it with any permanent effect — re- pelled the idea of being bound even by the commercial regn RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 275 lations of England. The wonderful eloquence of Grattan, which, like an eagle guarding her young, rose grandly in defence of the freedom to which itself had given birth, would alone have been sufficient to determine a whole nation to his will. Accordingly such demonstrations of resistance were made both by people and parliament, that the Commercial Propositions were given up by the minister, and this apparition of a Union withdrawn from the eyes of Ireland for the present — merely to come again, in another shape, with many a " mortal murder on its crown, and push her from her stool." As Mr. Sheridan took a strong interest in this question, and spoke at some length on every occasion when it was brought be- fore the House, I will, in order to enable the reader to judge of his manner of treating it, give a few passages from his speech on the discussion of that Resolution, which stipulated for Eng- land a control over the external legislation of Ireland : — ''Upon this view, it would be an imposition on common sense to pretend that Ireland could in future have the exercise of free will or discretion upon any of those subjects of legislation, on which she now stipulated to follow the edicts of Great Britain ; and it was a miserable sophistry to con- tend, that her being permitted the ceremony of placing those laws upon her own Statute-Book, as a form of promulgating them, was an argument that it was not the British but the Irish statutes that bound the people of Ireland. For his part, if he were a member of the Irish Parliament, he should prefer the measure of enacting by one decisive vote, that all British laws to the purposes stipnlated, should have immediate operation in Ire- land as in Great Britain ; choosing rather to avoid the mockery of enacting without deliberation, and deciding where they had no pov/er to dissent. Where fetters were to be worn, it w^as a wretched ambition to contend for the distinction of fastening our own shackles." ***** '• All had been delusion, trick, and fallacy : a new scheme of commercial arrangement is proposed to the Irish as a boon ; and the surrender of their Constitution is tacked to it as a mercantile regulation. Ireland, newly es- caped from harsh trammels and severe discipline, is treated like a high- mettled horse, hard to catch ; and the Irish Secretary is to return to the field, soothing and coaxing him, with a sieve of provender in one hand, but with a bridle in the other, ready to slip over his head while he is snuf- fling at the food. But this political jockeyship, he was convinced, would not succeed.^' ^76 Memoirs of' the life of tm In defending the policy, as well as generosity of the conces- sions made to Ireland by Mr. Fox in 1782, he says, — " Fortunately for the peace and future union of the two kingdoms, no such miserable and narrow policy entered into the mind of his Right Hon- orable friend ; he disdained the injustice of bargaining with Ireland on such a subject ; nor would Ireland have listened to him if he had attempt- ed it. She had not applied to purchase a Constitution ; and if a tribute or contribution had been demanded in return for what was then granted, those patriotic spirits who were at that time leading the oppressed people of that insulted country to the attainment of their just rights, would have pointed to other modes of acquiring them ; would have called to them in the words of Camillus, arrna aptare at^ue ferro non auro patriam et libertatem recnperareJ^^ The following passage is a curious proof of the short-sighted views which prevailed at that period, even among the shrewdest men, on the subject of trade: — " There was one point, however, in which he most completely agreed with the manufacturers of this country ; namely, in their assertion, that if the Irish trader should be enabled to meet the British merchant and manu- facturer in the British market, the gain of Ireland must be the loss of Eng- land.* This was a fact not to be controverted on any principle of common sense or reasonable argument. The pomp of general declamation and waste of fine words, which had on so many occasions been employed to dis- guise and perplex this plain simple truth, or still more fallaciously to en- deavor to prove that Great Britain would find her balance in the Irish mar- ket, had only tended to show the w^eakness and inconsistency of the doc- trine they were meant to support. The truth of the argument was with the manufacturers ; and this formed, in Mr. Sheridan-s mind, a ground o\ one of the most vehement objections he had to the present plan." It was upon the clamor, raised at this time by the English manufacturers, at the prospect of the privileges about to be granted to the trade of Ireland, that Tickell, whose wit was al- ways on the watch for such opportunities, wrote the following fragment, found among the papers of Mr. Sheridan : — " A Vision. " After supping on a few Colchester oysters and a small Welsh rabbit, I * Mr. Fox also said, " Ireland cannot make a single acquisition but to the proportionatA JOSS of England RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN". 277 went to bed last Tu }sday night at a quarter before eleven o'clock. I slept quietly for near two hours, at the expiration of which period, my slumber was indeed greatly disturbed by the oddest train of images I ever experi- enced. I thought that every individual article of my usual dress and fur- niture was suddenly gifted with the powers of speech, and all at once united to assail me with clamorous reproaches, for my unpardonable ne- glect of their common interests, in the great question of surrendering our British commerce to Ireland. My hat, my coat, and every button on it, my Manchester waistcoat, my silk breeches, my Birmingham buckles, my shirt-buttons, my shoes, my stockings, my garters, and what was more troublesome, my night-cap, all joined in a dissonant volley of petitions and remonstrances — which, as I found it impossible to wholly suppress, I thought it most prudent to moderate, by soliciting them to communicate their ideas individually. It was with some difficulty they consented to even this proposal, which they considered as a device to extinguish their gene- ral ardor, and to break the force of their united efforts ; nor would they by any means accede to it, till I had repeatedly assured them, that as soon as I heard them separately, I would appoint an early hour for receiving them in a joint body. Accordingly, having fixed these preliminaries, my Night-cap thought proper to slip up immediately over my ears, and disen- gaging itself from my temples, called upon my Waistcoat, who was rather carelessly reclining on a chair, to attend him immediately at the foot of the bed. My Sheets and Pillow-cases, being all of Irish extraction, stuck close to me, however, — which was uncommonly fortunate, for, not only my Cur- tains had drawn off to the foot of the bed, but my Blankets also had the audacity to associate themselves with others of the woollen fraternity, at the first outset of this household meeting. Both my Towels attended as evidences at the bar, — but my Pocket-handkerchief, notwithstanding his uncommon forwardness to hold forth the banner of sedition, was thought to be a character of so mixed a complexion, as rendered it more decent for him to reserve his interference till my Snuff-box could be heard — which was settled accordingly. ^' At length, to my inconceivable astonishment, my Night-cap, attended as I have mentioned, addressed me in the following terms : — " Early as was the age at which Sheridan had been transplanted from Ireland — never to set foot upon his native land again — the feeling of nationality remained with him warmly through life, arid he w^as, to the last, both fond and proud of his country. The zeal, with which he entered, at this period, into Irish politics, may be judged of from some letters, addressed to him in th*3 278 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE year 1785, by Mr. Isaac Corry, who was at that time a member of the Irish Opposition, and combated the Commercial Proposi- tions as vigorously as he afterwards, when Chancellor of the Ex- chequer, defended their " consummate flower," the Union. A few extracts from these letters will give some idea of the inter- est attached to this question by the popular party in both coun- tries. The following, dated August 5, 1785, was written during the adjournment of ten days, that preceded Mr. Orde's introduction of the Propositions : — " Your most welcome letter, after hunting me some days through the country, has at length reached me. I wish you had sent some notes of your most excellent speech ; but such as we have must be given to the public — admirable commentary upon Mr. Pitt's Apology to the People of Ireland^ which must also be published in the manner fitting it. The addresses were sent round to all the towns in the kingdom, in order to give currency to the humbug. Being upon the spot, I have my troops in per- fect order, and am ready at a moment's warning for any manoeu- vre which may, when we meet in Dublin previous to the next sitting, be thought necessary to follow the petitions for post- poning. " We hear astonishing accounts of your greatness in particu- lar. Paddy will, I suppose, some beau jour be voting you ano- ther 50,000,* if you go on as you have done. " I send to-day dowm to my friend, O'Neil, w^ho waits for a signal only, and we shall go up together. Brownlow is just be- side me, and I shall ride over this morning to get him up to con sultation in town we must get our Whig friends in ^England to engraft a few slips -of Whiggism here — till that is done, there will be neither Constitution for the people nor sta- bility for the Government.* " Charlemont and I were of opinion that we should not make the volunteers speak upon the present business ; so I left it out * Alluding to the recent vote of that sum to Mr. Grattan. RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 279 ill the Resolutions at our late review. They are as tractable as we could desire, and we can manage them completely. We in- culcate all moderation — were we to slacken in that, they would instantly step forward." The date of the following letter is August 10th — two days be- fore Mr. Orde brought forward the Propositions. "We have got the bill entire, sent about by Orde. The more it is read, the less it is liked. I made notable use of the clause you sent me before the whole arrived. We had a select meeting to-day of the D. of Leinster, Charlemont, Conolly, Grattan, Forbes, and myself We think of moving an address to postpone to-morrow till the 15th of January, and have also some resolutions ready pro re natd, as we don't yet know what shape they will put the business into ; — Conolly to move. To- morrow morning we settle the Address and Resolutions, and after that, to-morrow, meet more at large at Leinster House. All our troops muster pretty well. Mountmorris is here, and to be with us to-morrow morning. We reckon on something like a hundred, and some are sanguine enough to add near a score above it — that is too much. The report of to-night is that Orde is not yet ready for us, and will beg a respite of a few days — Beresford is not yet arrived, and that is said to be the cause. Mornington and Poole are come — -their muster is as strict as ours. If we divide any thing like a hundred, they will not dare to take a victory over us. Adieu, yours most truly, ' " I. C." The motion for bringing in the Bill was carried only by a ma- jority of nineteen, which is thus announced to Mr. Sheridan by his correspondent : — " I congratulate with you on 108 minority — against 127. The business never can go on. They were astonished, and looked the sorriest devils you can imagine. Orde's exhibition was piti- ful indeed — the support of his party weak and open to attack — the debate on their part really poor. On ours, Conolly, O'Neill. 280 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE and the other country gentlemen, strong and of great weight — • Grattan able and eloquent in an uncommon degree — every body in high spirits, and altogether a force that was irresistible. We divided at nine this morning, on leave to bring in a Bill for the settlement. The ground fought upon was the Fourth Resolution, and the principle of that in the others. The commercial detail did not belong accurately to the debate, though some went over it in a cursory way. Grattan, two hours and a half — Flood as much— the former brilliant, well attended to, and much admired — the latter tedious from detail ; of course, not so wxll heard, and answered by Foster in detail, to refutation. " The Attorney General defended the constitutional safety under the Fourth-Resolution principle. Orde mentioned the Opposition in England twice in his opening speech, with impu- tations, or insinuations at least, not very favorable. You were not left undefended. Forbes exerted his w^arm attachment to you with great effect — Burgh, the flag-ship of the Leinster squad- ron, gave a well-supported fire pointed against Pitt, and covering you. Hardy (the Bishop of Down's friend) in a very elegant speech gave you due honor ; and I had the satisfaction of a slight skirmish, which called up the Attorney General, &c. . . ." On the 15th of August Mr. Orde withdrew his Bill, and Mr. Corry writes — '' I wish you joy a thousand times of our complete victory. Orde has offered the Bill — moved its being printed for his own justification to the country, and no more of it this ses- sion. We have the effects of a complete victory." Another question of much less importance, but more calcu- lated to call forth Sheridan's various powers, was the Plan of the Duke of Richmond for the fortification of dock-yards, which Mr. Pitt brought forward (it was said, wath much reluctance) in the session of 1786, and w^hich Sheridan must have felt the greater pleasure in attacking, from the renegade conduct of its noble au- thor in politics. In speaking of the Report of a Board of Gene- ral Officers, which had been appointed to examine into the merits of this plan, and of which the Duke himself was President, he thus ingeniously plays with the terms of the art in question, and RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 281 fires off his wit, as it were, en ricochet^ making it bound lightly from sentence to sentence : — '' Yet the Noble Duke deserved the warmest panegyrics for the stiiking proofs he had given of his genius as an engineer ; which appeared even in the planning and construction of the paper in his hand ! The professional ability of the Master-general shone as conspicuously there, as it could upon our coasts. He had made it an argument of posts ; and conducted his reasoning upon principles of trigonometry, as well as logic. There were certain detached data, like advanced works, to keep the enemy at a distance from the main object in debate. Strong provisions covered the flanks of his assertions. His very queries were in casements. No impres- sion, therefore, was to be made on this fortress of sophistry by desultory observations ; and it was necessary to sit down before it, and assail it by regular approaches. It was fortunate, however, to observe, that notwith- standing all the skill employed by the noble and literary engineer, his mode of defence on paper was open to the same objection v/hich had been urged against his other fortifications ; that if his adversary got possession of one of his posts, it became strength against him, and the means of sub- duing the whole line of his argument.'' He also spoke at considerable length, upon the Plan brought forward by Mr. Pitt for the Redemption of the National Debt — that grand object of the calculator and the financier, and equally likely, it should seem, to be attained by the dreams of the one as by the experiments of the other. Mr. Pitt himself seemed to dread the suspicion of such a partnership, by the care with which he avoided any acknowledgment to Dr. Price, whom he had nevertheless personally consulted on the subject, and upon whose visions of compound interest this fabric of finance was founded. In opening the Plan of his new Sinking Fund to the House, Mr. Pitt, it is well known, pronounced it to be " a firm cclumn, upon which he was proud to flatter himself his name might be inscribed." Tycho Brahe would have said the same of his As- tronomy, and Des Cartes of his Physics ; — but these baseless columns have long passed away, and the Plan of paying debt with borrowed money well deserves to follow them. The delu- sion, indeed, of which this Fund was made the instrum..^t, dur ing the war with France, is now pretty generally acknowledged; 282 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE and the only question is, whether Mr. Pitt was so much the dupe of his own juggle, as to persuade himself that thus playing with a debt, from one hand to the other, was paying it — or whether, aware of the inefficacy of his Plan for any other purpose than that of keeping up a blind confidence in the money-market, he yet gravely went on, as a sort of High Priest of Finance, profit- ing by a miracle in which he did not himself believe, and, in addition to the responsibility of the uses to which he applied the money, incurring that of the fiscal imposture by which he raised it. Though, from the prosperous state of the revenue at the time of the institution of this Fund, the absurdity was not yet com- mitted of borrowing money to maintain it, we may perceive by the following acute pleasantry of Mr. Sheridan, (who denied the existence of the alleged surplus of income,) that he already had a keen insight into the fallacy of that Plan of Redemption after- wards followed : — " At present," he said, " it was clear there was no surplus ; and the only means which suggested themselves to him were, a loan of a million for the especial purpose — for the Right Honorable gentleman might say, with the person in the comedy, ' If you wont lend me the money, how can I pa.y you V " RIGHT HON. RICHAED BBINSLEY SHERIDAN. 288 CHAPTER X. CHARGES AGAINST MR. HASTINGS. — COMJirERCIAL TREATY WITH FRANCE. — DEBTS OF THE PRINCE OF WALES. The calm security into which Mr. Pitt's administration had settled, after the victory which the Tory alliance of King and people had gained for him, left but little to excite the activity of party spirit, or to call forth those grand explosions of eloquence, which a more electric state of the political world produces. The orators of Opposition might soon have been reduced, like Philoctetes wasting his arrows upon geese at Lemnos,** to ex- pend the armory of their wit upon the Grahams and Rolles of the Treasury bench. But a subject now presented itself — the Impeachment of Warren Hastings — which, by embodying the cause of a whole country in one. individual, and thus combining the extent and grandeur of a national question, with the direct aim and singleness of a personal attack, opened as wide a field for display as the most versatile talents could require, and to Mr. Sheridan, in particular, afforded one of those precious op- portunities, of which, if Fortune but rarely offers them to genius, it is genius alone that can fully and triumphantly avail itself. The history of the rise and progress of British power in India — of that strange and rapid vicissitude, by which the ancient Empire of the Moguls was transferred into the hands of a Com- pany of Merchants in Leadenhali Street— furnishes matter per- haps more than any other that could be mentioned, for those strong contrasts and startling associations, to which eloquence and wit often owe their most striking effects. The descendants of a Throne, once the loftiest in the world, reduced to stipulate * ^^ PirmigerO) non armigeroin corpore tela exercea?iiur.''^'—Accivs, ajo. Ciceron. lib. vii ep. 33. 284 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE with the servants of traders for subsistence — the dethronement of Princes converted into a commercial transaction, and a ledger- account kept of the profits of Revolutions — the sanctity of Ze- nanas violated by search-\yarrants, and the chicaneries of Eng- lish Law transplanted, in their most mischievous luxuriance, into the holy and peaceful shades of the Bramins, — such events as these, in which the poetry and the prose of life, its pompous il- lusions and mean realities, are mingled up so sadly and fantasti- CLlly together, were of a nature, particularly when recent, to lay hold of the imagination as well as the feelings, and to fur- nish eloquence with those strong lights and shadows, of which her most animated pictures are composed. It is not wonderful, therefore, that the warm fancy of Mr. Burke should have been early and strongly excited by the scenes of which India was the theatre, or that they should have (to use his owm words) " constantly preyed upon his peace, and by night and day dwelt on his imagination." His imagination, indeed, — as will naturally happen, where this faculty is restrained by a sense of truth — was always most livelily called into play by events of which he had not himself been a witness ; and, accord- ingly, the sufferings of India and the horrors of revolutionary France were the two subjects upon which it has most unrestrain- edly indulged itself In the year 1780 he had been a member of the Select Committee, which was appointed by the House of Commons to take the affairs of India into consideration, and through some of whose luminous Reports we trace that power- ful intellect, which '• stamped an image of itself" on every sub- ject that it embraced. Though the reign of Clive had been suffi- ciently fertile in enormities, and the treachery practised towards Omicliund seemed hardly to admit of any parallel, yet the lof- tier and more prominent iniquities of Mr. Hastings's govern- ment were supposed to have thrown even these into shadow. Against him, therefore, — now rendered a still nobler object of attack by the haughty spirit v/irh which he delied his accusers, — the whole studies and energies of Mr. Burke's mind were directed. UlCflT HON. EICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAIST. 285 It has already been remarked that to the impetuous zeal, with which Burke at this period rushed into Indian politics, and to that ascendancy over his party by which he so often compelled them to " swell wdth their tributary urns his flood," the ill-fated East India Bill of Mr. Fox in a considerable degree owed its origin. In truth, the disposition and talents of this extraordinary man made him at least as dangerous as useful to any party with which he connected himself. Liable as he w^as to be hurried into unsafe extremes, impatient of contradiction, and with a sort of feudal turn of mind, which exacted the unconditional service of his followers, it required, even at that time, but little pene- .tration to foresee the violent schism that ensued some years after, or to pronounce that, whenever he should be unable to command his party, he would desert it. The materials which he had been collecting on the subject of India, and the indignation with which these details of delinquen- cy had filled him, at length burst forth (like that mighty cloud, described by himself as " pouring its whole contents over the plains of the Carnatic") in his wonderful speech on the Nabob of Ai'cot's debts* — a speech, whose only rivals perhaps in all the records of oratory, are to be found among three or four others of his ow^n, which, like those poems of Petrarch called Sorelle from their kindred excellence, may be regarded as sisters in beauty, and equalled only by each other. Though the charges against Mr. Hastings had long been threatened, it w^as not till the present year that Mr. Burke brought them formally forward. He had been, indeed, defied to this issue by the friends of the Governor-General, whose reliance, how^ever, upon the sympathy and support of the minis- try (accorded, as a matter of course, to most State delinquents) * Isocrates, in his Encomium upon Helen, dwells much on the advantage to an oralcfi of speaking upon subjects from which Lut little eloquence is expected — ItSPl TOJV (pauXwv XOH Ta'TTSlvWV. There is little doubt, indeed, that surprise m.\xsX have considerable share in the pleasure, which we derive from eloquence on such unpromising topics as have in spired three of the most masterly speec^ies that can be selected from modern oratory — that of Burke on the Nabob of Arcot's debts— of Grattan on Tithes, and of Mr. Fox on the Westminster Scrutiny. 286 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE was, in this instance, contrary to all calculation, disappointed. Mr. Pitt, at the commencement of the proceedings, had shown strong indications of an intention to take the cause of the Gover- nor-General under his protection. Mr. Dundas, too, had exhi- bited one of those convenient changes of opinion, by which such statesmen can accommodate themselves to the passing hue of the Treasury-bench, as naturally as the Eastern insect does to the color of the leaf on which it feeds. Though one of the earliest and most active denouncers of Indian mis-government, and even the mover of those strong Resolutions in 1782* on which some of the chief charges of the present prosecution were founded, he now, throughout the whole of the opening scenes of the Im- peachment, did not scruple to stand forth as the warm eulogist of Mr. Hastings, and to endeavor by a display of the successes of his administration to dazzle away attention from its violence and injustice. This tone, however, did not long continue : — in the midst of the anticipated triumph of Mr Hastings, the Minister suddenly " changed his hand, and checked his pride." On the occasion of the Benares Charge, brought forward in the House of Commons by Mr. Fox, a majority was, for the first time, thrown into the scale of the accusation ; and the abuse that was in consequence showered upon Mr. Pitt and Mr. Dundas, through every channel of the press, by the friends of Mr. Hastings, showed how wholly unexpected, as well as mortifying, was the desertion. As but little credit was allowed to conviction in this change, it being difficult to believe that a Minister should come to the discussion of such a question, so lightly ballasted with opinions of his own as to be thrown from his equilibrium by the first wave of argument he encountered, — various statements and conjectures were, at the time, brought forward to account for it. Jealousy of the great and increasin^X influence of Mr. Hastings at * In introducing the Resolutions he said, that " he was urged to take this step by an ac- count, which had lately arrived from India, of an act of the most flagrant violence and oppression and of the grossest breach of faith, committed by Mr. H.t«ting8 against Cheyt Sing, the Raja of Benares." illGHT HON". RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 287 court was. iii general, the motive assigned for the conduct of the Minister. It was even believed that a wish expressed by the King, to have his new favorite appointed President of the Board of Control, was what decided Mr. Pitt to extinguish, by co- operating with the Opposition, every chance of a rivalry, which might prove troublesome, if not dangerous, to his power. There is no doubt that the arraigned ruler of India was honored at this period with the distinguished notice of the Court — partly, perhaps, from admiration of his proficiency in that mode of governing, to which all Courts are, more or less, instinctively inclined, and partly from a strong distaste to those who were his accusers, which would have been sufficient to recommend any person or measure to which they were opposed. But whether Mr. Pitt, in the part which he now took, was actuated merely by personal motives, or (as his eulogists re- present) by a strong sense of impartiality and justice, he must at all events have considered the whole proceeding, at this mo- ment, as a most seasonable diversion of the attacks of the Opposition, from his own person and government to an object so little connected with either. The many restless and powerful spirits now opposed to him would soon have found, or made, some vent for their energies, more likely to endanger the stabi- lity of his power; — and, as an expedient for drawing off some of that perilous lightning, which flashed around him from the lips of a Burke, a Fox, and a Sheridan, the prosecution of a great criminal like Mr. Hastings furnished as efficient a conductor as could be desired. Still, however, notwithstanding the accession of the Minister, and the im^pulse given by the majorities which he commanded, the projected impeachment was but tardy and feeble in its move- ments, and neither the House nor the public went cordially along with it. Great talents, united to great power — even when, as in the instance of Mr. Hastings, abused — is a combination before which men are inclined to bow implicitly. The iniquities, too, of Indian rulers were of that gigantic kind, which seemed to ')utgrow censure, and even, in some degree, challenge admiration 288 Memoirs of the life of the In addition to all this, Mr. Hastings had been successful ; and succbss but too often throws a charm round injustice, like the dazzle of the necromancer's shield in Ariosto, before which every one falls " Con gli occhi ahbacinati, e senza mente,^^ The feelings, therefore, of the public were, at the outset of the prosecution, rather for than against the supposed delinquent. Nor was this tendency counteracted by auy very partial leaning to- wards his accusers. Mr. Fox had hardly yet recovered his defeat on the India Bill, or — what had been still more fatal to him — his victory in the Coalition. Mr. Burke, in spite of his great talents and zeal, w^as by no means popular. There was a tone of dictatorship in his public demeanor against which men naturally rebelled ; and the impetuosity and passion with which he flung himself into every favorite subject, showed a want of self-government but little calculated to inspire respect. Even his eloquence, various and splendid as it was, failed in general to win or command the attention of his hearers, and, in this great essential of public speaking, must be considered inferior to that ordinary, but practical, kind of oratory,* which reaps its harvest at the moment of delivery, and is afterwards remembered less for itself than its effects. There was a something — v/hich those who have but read him can with difficulty conceive — that marred the impression of his most sublime and glowing displays. In vain did his genius put forth its superb plumage, glittering all over with the hundred eyes of fancy — the gait of the bird was heavy and awkward, and its voice seemed rather to scare than attract. Accordingly, many of those masterly discourses, which, in their present form, may proudly challenge comparison with all the written eloquence upon record, were, at the time when they were pronounced, either coldly listened to, or only wel- comed as a signal and excuse for not listening at all. To such a * " Whoever, upon comparison, is deemed by a common audience the greatest orator ought most certainly to be pronounced such by men of science and erudition." — Hume^ Essay 13. RIGHT HON, RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 289 length was this iiidifFerence carried, that, on the evening when he delivered his great Speech on the Nabob of Arcot's debts, so faint was the impression it produced upon the House, that Mr. Pitt and Lord Grenville, as I have heard, not only consulted with each other as to whether it was necessary they should take the trouble of answermg it, but decided in the negative. Yet doubt- less, at the present moment, if Lord Grenville — master as he is of all the knowledge that belongs to a statesman and a scholar — were asked to point out from the stores of his reading the few models of oratorical composition, to the perusal of which he could most frequently, and with unwearied admiration, return, this slighted and unanswered speech would be among the number. From all these combining circumstances it arose that the pro- secution of Mr. Hastings, even after the accession of the Minister, excited but a slight and wavering interest ; and, without some extraordinary appeal to the sympathies of the House and the country — some startling touch to the chord of public feeling — it was questionable whether the inquiry would not end as abor- tively as all the other Indian inquests^ that had preceded it. In this state of the proceeding, Mr. Sheridan brought forward, on the 7th of February, in the House of Commons, the charge relative to the Begum Princesses of Oude, and delivered that celebrated Speech, whose effect upon its hearers has no parallel in the annals of ancient or modern eloquence.f When we re- * Namely, the fruitless prosecution of Lord Clive by General Burgoyne, the trifling ver- dict upon the persons who had imprisoned Lord Pigot, and the Bill of Pains and Penalties against Sir Thomas Rumbold, finally withdrawTi. f Mr. Burke declared it to be " the most astonishmg effort of eloquence, argument, and wit united, of which there was any record or tradition." Mr. Fox said, " All that he had ever heard, all that he had ever read, when compared with it, dwindled into nothing, and vanished like vapor before the sun ;" — and Mr. Pitt acknowledged "that it surpassed all the eloquence of ancient and modern times, and possessed every thing that genius or art could furnish, to agitate and control the human mind." There were several other tributes, of a less distinguished kind, of which I find the fol- lov/ing account in the Annual Register : — "Sir William Dolben immediately mov^ed an adjournment of the debate, confessing, that, in the state of mind in which Mr. Sheridan's speech had left him, it was imj)OGi5ible fc hin \o give a determinate opmion. Mr. Stanhope seconded the motion. When l.e had en- ered the House, he was not ashamed to acknowledge, that his opinion inclined to the side VOL. I. 13 200 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE collect the men by whom the House of Commons was at that day adorned, and the conflict of high passions and interestr^ in which they had been so lately engaged ; — when we see them all, of all parties, brought (as Mr. Pitt expressed it) " under the wand of the enchanter," and only vying with each other in their description of the fascination by which they were bound ; — v/hen we call to mind, too, that he, whom the first statesmen of the age thus lauded, had but lately descended among them from a more aerial region of intellect, bringing trophies falsely supposed to be incompatible with political prowess ; — it is impossi])le to imagine a moment of more entire and intoxicating triumph. The only alloy that could mingle with such complete success must be the fear that it was too perfect ever to come again , — that his fame had then reached the meridian point, and from that consummate moment must date its decline. Of this remarkable Speech there exists no Report ; — for it would be absurd to dignify with that appellation the meagre and lifeless sketch, the Tenuem sine viribus uynhram In faciem ^necB^ which is given in the Annual Registers and Parliamentary De- bates. Its fame, therefore, remains like an empty shrine — a cenotaph stiii crowned and honored, though the inmate is want- ing. Mr. Sheridan was frequently urged to furnish a Report himself, and from his habit of preparing and writing out his speeches, there is little doubt that he could have accomplished such a task without much difficulty. But, whether from indo- lence or design, he contented himself with leaving to imagination, which, in most cases, he knew, transcends reality, the task of justifying his eulogists, and perpetuating the tradition of their of Mr. Hastings. But such had been the wonderful efficacy of Mr. Sheridan's convincing (leiail of facts, and urresistible eloquence, that he could not but say thai his sentimenta ^Vcre materially changed. Nothing, indeed, but information almost equal to a miracle, C3ti'i attending this present are thus summed up by Mr. Mill: "At first, perfect concealment of the transaction — such measures, however, taken as may, if afterwards necessary, appear to imply a design of future disclosure ; — when concealment becomes difficult f.fid hazardous, then disclosure made." — History of BHtish India. "f In his letter to the Commanding Oificer at Bidgegur. The following are the terms ;i which he convey?, the hint : "I apprehend that she will contrive to defraud the captors c! a considciable part of the booty, by being suffered to retiie without examinaiifm. But this is yocr cr.r.5idoratioti, and not mine, t fjliould be vc>y sorry that your offict-rs and nol die'-j lost any part of the reward to which they are so well entitled ; but I cannot nif.ke any objection, n& >ou must be the best judge of the expediency of \hQ promised indulgence 8 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE castle of the Rajah were inconsiderable, and the soldiers, who had shown themselves so docile in receiving the lessons of plunder, were found inflexibly obstinate in refusing to admit their instruc- tor to a share. Disappointed, therefore, in the primary object of his expedition, the Governor-General looked round for some richer harvest of rapine, and the Begums of Oude presented themselves as the most convenient victims. These Princesses, the mother and grandmother of the reigning Nabob of Oude, had been left by the late sovereign in possession of certain government-estates, or jaghires, as well as of all the treasure that was in his hands at the time of his death, and which the oriental- ized imaginations of the English exaggerated to an enormous sum. The present Nabob had evidently looked with an eye of o'^pidity on this wealth, and had been guilty of some acts of ex- tortion towards his female relatives, in consequence of which the English government had interfered between them, — and had even guaranteed to the mother of the Nabob the safe possession of her property, without any further encroachment whatever. Gua- rantees and treaties, however, were but cobwebs in the way of Mr. Hastings ; and on his failure at Benares, he lost no time in concluding an agreemeut with the Nabob, by which (in consider- ation of certain measui-es of relief to his dominions) this Prince was bound to plunder his mother and grandmother of all their property, and place it at the disposal of the Governor-General. In order to give a color of justice to this proceeding, it was* pre- tended that these Princesses had taken advantage of the late insur- rection at Benares, to excite a similar spirit of revolt in Oude against the reigning Nabob and the English government. As I.aw is but too often, in such cases, the ready accomplice of lyranny, the services of the Chief Justice, Sir Elijah Impey, were called in to sustain the accusations ; and the wretched mockery was exhibited of a J udge travelling about in search of evidence,f for the express purpose of proving a charge, upon * " It was the practice of Mr. Hastings (says Burke, in his fine speech on Mr. Pitt's In- dia Bill, March 22, 1786 to examine the country, and where rer he lOhztfA money lis a.1.x ^ui't. A more I'ireadful fault could not be alleg-ed against a native than that he was rich.'' f Tins journey of the Chief Justice ii) seq..rch of ev'idcuce is thus liappiiy describe-*! by EIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. V wnich judgment had been pronounced and punishment decreed already. The Nabob himself, though sufficiently ready to make the wealth of those venerable ladies occasionally minister to his wants, yet shrunk back, with natural reluctance, from the sum- mary task now imposed upon him ; and it was not till after re- peated and peremptory remonstrances from Mr. Hastings, that he could be induced to put himself at the head of a body of English troops, and take possession, by unresisted force, of the town and palace of these Princesses. As the treasure, however, was still secure in the apartments of the women, — that circle, within which even the spirit of English rapine did not venture, — .an expedient was adopted to get over this inconvenient deli- cacy. Two aged eunuchs of high rank and distinction, the con- fidential agents of the Begums, were thrown into prison, and subjected to a course of starvation and torture, by which it was hoped that the feelings of their mistresses might be worked upon, and a more speedy surrender of their treasure wrung from them. The plan succeeded : — upwards of 500,000/. was pro- cured to recruit the finances of the Company ; and thus, accord- ing to the usual course of British power in India, rapacity but levied its contributions in one quarter, to enable war to pursue its desolating career in another. To crown all, one of the chief articles of the treaty, by which fhe Nabob w^as reluctantly induced to concur in these atrocious measures, was, as^soonas the object had been gained, infringed by Mr. Hastings, who, in a letter to his colleagues in the government, gheridan in the Speech :— '' When, on the 28th of Xovember, he was busied at Lucknow on that honorable business, and when, three days aftrr, he was found at Chunar, at the dis- tance of 200 miles, still searching for affidavits, and, like Hamlet's ghost, exclaimmg, 'Swear,' his progress on that occasion was so whimsically rapid, compared with tne gravity of his ecnploy, that an observer would be tempted to quote again from the same scene, *Ha ! Old Truepenny, canst thou mole so fast i' the ground ?' Here, however, the comparison ceased ; for, when Sir Elijah made his visit to Lucknow 'to whet the ahriost blunted purpose' of Xh^ Nabob, his language was wholly different from that of the poet, —for it would have been tolall}' against his purpose to have said, ' Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive Against thy mother aught.' " VOL. n. 1^ 10 MEMOIES OF THE LIFE OF TilE iionestly confesses that rhe concession of t at article was only a frar-muient artifice of diplomacy, and never intended to be ciir- ri^-d into effect. Sncli is an outline of the case, which, with all its aggravating details, Mr. Sheridan had to state in these two memorable Speeches ; and it was certainly most fortunate for the display of his peculiar powers, that this should be the Charge confided to his man- agement. For, not only was it the strongest, and susceptible of the highest charge of coloring, but it had also the advantage of grouping together all the principal delinquents of the trial, and aiibrding a gradation of hue, from the show^y and prominent enormities of the Governor-General and Sir Elijah Impey in the front of the picture, to the subordinate and half-tint iniquity of the Middletons and Bristows in the back-ground. Mr. Burke, it appears, had at first reserved this grand part in the drama of the Impeachment for himself; but, finding that Sheridan had also fixed his mind upon it, he, without hesitation, resigned it into his hands ; thus proving the sincerity of his zeal in the cause,* by sacrificing even the vanity of talent to its suc- cess. The following letters from him, relative to the Impeachment, will be read w^ith interest. The first is addressed to Mrs. Sheri- dan, and was written, I think, early in the proceedings ; the second is to Sheridan himself: — " Madam, " I am sure you will have the goodness to excuse the liberty I take with you, when you consider the interest which I have and which the Public have (the said Public being, at least, half an inch a taller person than I am) in tlie use of Mr. Sheridan's abilities. I know that his mind is seldom unemployed; but then, like all * Of the lengths to which this zeal could sometimes carry his fancy and language, rather, perhaps, than his actual feelings, the following anecdote is a remarkable proof. On one of the days of the trial, Lord , who was then a boy, having been intioduced by a relative into the Manager's box, Burke said to him, ''I am glad to see you here — I shall be still gladder to see you there-^(pointiiig to the Peers' seats) I hope you will l)e iri at the 'kalh — T siioiild like to blood you."' RIGHT FON RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. H such great and vigorous minds, it takes an eagle flight ^: ts^lf, fiiid we can kirdly bring it lo rustle along the ground, witii us birds of meaner wing, in coveys. I only beg that you wm Die- vail on Mr. Sheridan to be with us this day, at half after tnree, in the Committee. Mr. Wombell, the Paymaster of Oude, is to be examined there io-day. Oude is Mr. Sheridan's particular province ; and I do most seriously ask that he would favor us with his assistance. What will come of the examination I know not; but, without him, I do not expect a great deal from it; with him, I fancy we may get out something material. Once more let me entreat your interest with Mr. Sheridan and your forgiveness for being troublesome to you, and do me the justice to believe me, with the most sincere respect, " Madam, your most obedient ''• and faithfu". humble Servant, " Thursday, 9 o'clocJc, " Edm. Burke." " My dear Sir, " You have only to wish to be excused to succeed in your wishes ; for, indeed, he must be a great enemy to himself who can consent, on account of a momentary ill-humor, to keep him- self at a distance from you. "Well, all will turn out right, — and half of you, or a quarter, is worth five other men. I think that this cause, which was originally yours, will be recognized by you, and that you will again possess yourself of it. The ov/ner's mark is on it, and all our docking and cropping cannot hinder its being known and cherished by its original master. My most humble respects to Mrs. Sheridan. I am happy to find that she takes in good part the liberty I presumed to take with her. Grey has done much aud will do every thing. It is a pity that he is not always toned to the full extent of his talents. " Most truly yours, ^ Monday. '' Edm. Burkb. " I feel a little sickish at the approaching day. I have read 12 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE much — too much, perhaps, — and, in truth, am but poorly pre- pared. Many things, too, have broken in upon me."* Though a Report, ho weveT* accurate, must always do injustice to that effective kind of oratory which is intended rather to be heard than read, and, though frequently, the passages that most roused and interested the hearer, are those that seem afterwards the tritest and least animated to the reader,f yet, with all this disadvantage, the celebrated oration in question so well sustains its reputation in the perusal, that it would be injustice, having an authentic Report in my possession, not to produce some speci- mens of its style and spirit. In the course of his exordium, after dwelling upon the great importance of the inquiry in which they v/ere engaged, and dis- claiming for himself and his brother-managers any feeling of personal malice against the defendant, or any motive but that of retrieving the honor of the British name in India, and bringing down punishment upon those whose inhumanity and injustice had disgraced it, — he thus proceeds to conciliate the Court by a warm tribute to the purity of English justice : — '' However, when I have said this, I trust Your Lordships will not be- lieve that, because something is necessary to retrieve the British character, w^e call for an example to be made, without due and solid proof of the guilt of the person whom we pursue :^no, my Lords, we know well that it is the glory of this Constitution, that not the general fame or character of any man — not the weight or power of any prosecutor — no plea of moral or political expediency — not even the secret consciousness of guilt, whioL may live in the bosom of the Judge, can justify any British Court in pass- ing any sentence, to touch a hair of the head, or an atom in any respect of tlie property, of the fame, of the liberty of the poorest or meanest sub ject that breathes the air of this just and free land. We know, my Lords, that there can be no legal guilt without legal proof, and that the rulf» which defines the evidence is as much the law of the land as that which creates the crime. It is upon that ground we mean to stand." * For this letter, as well as some other valuable communications, I am in^lebted to tae kindness of Mr. Burgess, — the Solicitor and friend of Sheridan during the last t'Viiity years of his life f The converse assertion is almost equally true. Mr. Fox used to ask of a prints, speech, " Does it read well?'' and, if answered in the affirmaiive, said, '' Then it was f bad speech." RIGHT HOK. HiCHARi) BRiNSLEY SH7.RiDAN. J8 Among those ready equivocations and disavowals, to wlu'ih Mr. Hastings had recourse upon every emergency, and in which practice seems to have rendered him as shameless as expert, the step which he took with regard to his own defence during the trial was not the least remarkable for promptness and audacity. He had, at the commencement of the prosecution, delivered at the bar of the House of Commons, as his own, a written refu- tation of the charges then pending against him in that House, declaring at the same time, that " if truth could tend to convict him, he was content to be, himself, the channel to convey it." Afterwards, however, on finding that he had committed himself rather imprudently in this defence, he came forward to disclaim it at the bar of the House of Lords, and brought his friend Major Scott to prove that it had been drawn up by Messrs. Shore, Middleton, &c. &c.— that he himself had not even seen it, and therefore ouo-ht not to be held accountable for its contents. In adverting to this extraordinary evasion, Mr. Sheridan thus shrewdly and playfully exposes all the persons concerned in it : — '' Major Scott comes to your bar — describes the shortness of time — re- presents Mr. Hastings as it were contracting for a character — putting his memory hdo commission — making departments for his conscience. A num- ber of friends meet together, and he, knowing (no doubt) that the accusa- tion of the Commons had been drawn up by a Committee, thought it ne- cessary, as a point of punctilio, to answer it by a Committee also. One fur- nishes the raw material of fact, the second spins the argument, and the third twines up the conclusion ; while Mr. Hastings, with a master's eye, is cheering and looking over this loom. He says to one, ^ You have got my good faith in your hands — you, my veracity to manage. Mr. Shore, I hope you will make me a good financier — Mr. Middleton. you have my humanity in commission.' — When it is done, he brings it to the House of Commons, and says, ' I was equal to the task. I knew the difficulties, but I scorn them : here is the truth, and if the truth will convict me, I am content my- self to be the channel of it.' His friends hold up their heads, and say, ' What noble magnanimity ! This must be the effect of conscious and real inno- cence.- Well, it is so received, it is so argued upon, — but it fails of its eflect. ^^ Then says Mr. Hastings, — ' That my defence ! no, mere journeyman- work, — go 3d enough for the Commons, but not fit for Your Lordships- con- Bideration.' He then calls upon his Counsel to save him : — ' I fear none of l4 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE my fxccusers' witnesses — T know some of them w^ell — I know the weakness ot their memory, and the strength of their attachment — I fear no testi- mony but my own — save rae from the peril of my own panegyric — preserve me from that, and I shall be safe.' Then is this plea brought to Your Lord- ships' bar, and Major Scott gravely asserts, — that Mr. Hastings did, at the bar of the House of Commons, vouch for facts of which he was ignorant, and for arguments which he had never read. ^' After such an attempt, we certainly are left in doubt to decide, to which set of his friends Mr. Hastings is least obliged, those who assisted him in making his defence, or those who advised him to deny it." He thus describes the feelings of the people of the East with respect to the unapproachable sanctity of their Zenanas : — *' It is too much, I am afraid, the case, that persons, used to European manners, do not take up these sort of considerations at first with the se- riousness that is necessary. For Your Lordships cannot even learn the right nature of those people's feelings and prejudices from any history of other Mahometan countries,— not even from that of the Turks, for they are a mean and degraded race in comparison with many of these great families, who, inheriting from their Persian ancestors, preserve a purer style of prejudice and a loftier superstition. Women there are not as in Turkey — they neither go to the mosque nor to the bath — it is not the thin veil alone that hides them — but in the inmost recesses of their Zenana they are kept from public view by those reverenced and protected walls, which, as Mr. Hastings and Sir Elijah Impey admit, are held sacred even by the ruffian hand of war or by the more uncourteous hand of the law. But, in this situation, they are not confuicd from a mean and selnsh policy of man — not from a coarse and sensual jealousy — enshrined rather than immured, their habitation and retreat is a sanctuary, not a prison — their jealousy is their own — a jealousy of their own honor, that leads them to regard liberty as a degradation, and the gaze of even admiring eyes as inexpiable pollu- tion to the purity of their fame and the sanctity of their honor. '• Such being the general opinion (or prejudices, let them be called) of this country, Your Lordships will find, that whatever treasures were given or lodged in a Zenana of this description must, upon the evidence of the thing itself, be placed beyond the reach of resumption. To dispute with the Counsel about the original right to those treasures— to talk of a title to them by the Mahometan law !— their title to them is the title of a Saint to the relics upon an altar, placed there by Piety,* guarded by holy Super- a'iitfon, and to be snatched from thence only by Sacrilege." « This metaphor was rather roughly handled afterwards (1794) by Mr. Law. ore of tUe adverse Counse., who asked, how could ihe Begum be considered as "a Saint," or Jiew tHaUT HOK. RlCttAUD BtllNSLEY SnEHlDAN. 15 in showing that the Nabob was driven to this robbery of hi., lelatives hy other considerations than those of the pretended re- bellion, which was afterwards conjured up by Mr. Hastings to justify it, he says, — '' The fact is, that throngn all his defences— through all his various false suggestions— through all these various rebellions and dlsaffections, Mr. Hastings never once lets go this plea— of extinguishable right in the Na- bob. He constantly represents the seizing the treasures as a resumption of a right which he could not part with ;— as if there were literally something in the Koran, that made it criminal in a true Mussulman to keep his en- gagements with his relations, and impious in a son to abstain from plunder- ing his mother. I do gravely assure your Lordships that there is no such doctrine in the Koran, and no such principle makes a part in the civil or municipal jurisprudence of that country. Even after these Princesses had been endeavoring to dethrone the Nabob and to extirpate the English, the only plea the Nabob ever makes, is his right under the Mahometan law ; and the truth is, he appears never to have heard any other reason, and I pledge myself to make it appear to Your Lordships, however extraordirar^ it may be, that not only liad the Nabob never heard of the rebelllcn till the moment of seizing the palace, but, still further, that he never heard of it at all ;— that this extraordinary rebellion, which was as notorious as the re- bellion of 1745 in London, was carefully concealed from those two parties —the Begums who plotted it, and the Nabob who was to be the vic|^n of it. " The existence of this rebellion was not the secret, but the notoriety of It was the secret ; it was a rebellion vvhich had for its object the destruction of no human creature but those who planned it ;— it was a rebellion which, according to Mr. Middleton's expression, no man. either horse or foot, ever marched to quell. The Chief Justice was the only man who took the field against it,— the force against which it was raised. Instantly withdrew to give it elbow-room,— and, even then, it was a rebellion which perversely showed itself in acts of hospitality to the Nabob whom it was to dethrone, and to the English whom it was to extirpate ;— it was a rebellion plotted by tvv-o feeble old women, headed by two eunuchs, and suppressed by an affidavit.'' The acceptance, or rather exaction, of the private present of £100,000 is thus animadverted upon: wore the camels, wliich formed part of the treasure, to be "placed upon the altar '' Sneridan, in reply, said, "It was the first time in his life he had ever heard of specica pleading on a metaphor, or a hill of indidmrnt aaainsl a trope. Vaw such was tne lurr. of the learned Counsel's mind, that, vvlien he attempted to be humorous, no jest could w founa, and, when serious, no fact was visible." 16 MiiMOIRS OF THE LI^E OF THS '• V.y Loi'ds; such was the distressed situation of the Nabob about n twelvemonth before Mr. Hastings met him at Chunar. It was a twelve- month, I say, after this miserable scene— a mighty period in the progress of British rapacity — it was (if the Counsel will) after some natural calami- ties had aided the superior vigor of British violence and rapacity — it was after the country had felt other calamities besides the English — it was after the angry dispensations of Providence had, with a progressive severity of chastisement, visited the land with a famine one year, and with a Col. Ilannay the next — it was after he, this Hannay, had returned to retrace the steps of his former ravages — it was after he and his voracious crew had come to plunder ruins which himself had made, and to glean from desola- tion the little that famine had spared, or rapine overlooked ; — then it was that this miserable bankrupt prince marching through his country, besieged by the clamors of his starving subjects, who cried to him for protection through their cages — meeting the curses of some of his subjects, and the prayers of others — with famine at his heels, and reproach following him, — then it was that this Prince is represented as e^^ercising this act of prodigal bounty to the very man whom he here reproaches — to the very man whose policy had extinguished his power, and whose creatures had desolated his country. To talk of a free-will gift ! it is audacious and ridiculous to name the supposition. It was 7iot a free-will gift. What was it then ? was it a bribe ? or was it extortion ? I shall prove it was both — it was an act of gross bribery and of rank extortion.'' A^iin he thus adverts to this present : — '* The first thing he does is, to leave Calcutta, in order to go to the re- lief of the distressed Nabob. The second thing, is to take 100,000/. from that distressed Nabob on account of the distressed Company. And the third thing is to ask of the distressed Company this very same sum on account of the distresses of Mr. Hastings. There never were three distresses that 3eemedso little reconcilable with one another.*' Anticipating the plea of state-necessity, which might possibly be set up in defence of the measures of the Governor-General, he breaks out into the following rhetorical passage : — ** State necessity ! no, my Lords : that imperial tyrant. State Necessity^ is yet a generous despot, — Vjold is his demeanor, rapid his decisions, and te^i'ible his grasp. But what he does, my Lords, he dares avow, and avow- ing, scorns any other justification, than the great motives that placed the iron sceptre in his hand. But a quibbling, pilfering, prevaricating State- Necessity, that tries to skulk behind the skirts of Justice ; — a State-Neces- sity that tries to steal a pitiful justification from vrhispered accusations and l^IGHT HON. RICHARD SRINSLEY SHERtbA^. fabricated rumors. No. my Lords, that is no State Neces&ity ;— tear off the mask, and you see coarse, vulgar avarice, — you see speculation, lurking under the gaudy disguise, and adding the guilt of libelling the public honor to its own prii ate fraud. '' My Lords, I say this, because I am sure the Managers would make every allowance that state-necessity could claim upon any great emergen- cy. If any great man in bearing the arras of this country ; — if any Ad- miral, bearing the vengeance and the glory of Britain to distant coasts, should be compelled to some rash acts of violence, in order, perhaps, to give food to those who are shedding their blood for Britain ; — if any great General, defending some fortress, barren itself, perhaps, but a pledge of the pride, and, with the pride, of the power of Britain ; if such a man were to * * * while he himself was * * at the top, like an eagle besieged in its imperial nest ;* — would the Commons of England come to accuse or to arraign such acts of state-necessity ? No." In describing that swarm of English pensioners >and placemen, who were still, in violation of the late purchased treaty, left to prey on the finances of the Nabob, he says, — *' Here we find they were left, as heavy a weight upon the Nabob as ever, — left there with as keen an appetite, though not so clamorous. They were reclining on the roots and shades of that spacious tree, which their prede- cessors had stripped branch and bough — watching with eager eyes the fii'st budding of a future prosperity, and of the opening harvest which they con- sidered as the prey of their perseverance and rapacity." We have in the close of the following passage, a specimen of that lofty style, in w^hich, as if under the influence of Eastern associations, almost all the Managers of this Trial occasionally indulged :f — * The Reporter, at many of these passages, seems to have thrown aside his pen in despair. t Much of this, however, is to be set down to the gratuitous bombast of the Reporter. Mr. Fox, for instance, is made to say, " Yes, my Lords, happy is it for the world, that the penetrating gaze of Providence searches after man, and in the dark den where he has stifled the remonstrances of conscience darts his compulsatory rayj that, bursting the se- crecy of guilt, driv'es the criminal frantic to confession and expiation." History of the Trial. — Even one of the Counsel, Mr. Dallas, is represented as having caught this Oriental contagion, to such a degeee as to express himself in the following manner : — '-We are now, bo«vever, (said the Counsel,) advancing from the star-light of Circumstance to the day-light of Discovery : the sun of Certainty is melting the darkness, and — we are ar* rived at facts admitted by both parties !" 18 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE ** I do not mean to say that Mr. Middleton had direct instructions fi'Oin Mr Hastings. — that he told him to go, and give that fallacious assurance to the Nabob, — that he had that order under his hand. No —but in looking attentively over Mr. Middleton's correspondence, you will find him say, upon a more important occasion, ' I don't expect your public authority for this ; — it is enough if you but hhit your pleasure.' He knew him well ; he could interpret every nod and motion of that head ; he understood the glances of that eye which sealed the perdition of nations, and at whose throne Princes waited, in pale expectation, for their fortune or their doom." The following is one of those labored passages, of which the orator himself was perhaps most proud, but in which the effort to be eloquent is too visible, and the effect, accordingly, falls short of the pretension: — " You see how Truth — empowered by tEat will which gives a giant's nerve to an infant's arm — has burst the monstrous mass of fraud that has endeavored to suppress it. — It calls now to Your Lordships, in the weak but clear tone of that Cherub, Innocence, whose voice is more persuasive than eloquence, more convincing than argument, whose look is supplica- tion, whose tone is conviction, — it calls upon you for redress, it calls upon you for vengeance upon the oppressor, and points its heave i-directed hand to the detested, but unrepenting author of its wrongs !'' His description of the desolation brought upon some provinces of Oude by the misgovernment of Colonel Hann y, and of the insurrection at Goruckpore against that officer in consequence, is, perhaps, the most masterly portion of the whole speech : — " If we could suppose a person to have come suddenly into the country unacquainted with any circumstances that had passed since the days of Sujah ul Dowlah, he would naturally ask — what cruel hand has wrought this wide desolation, what barbarian foe has invaded the country, has deso- lated its fields, depopulated its villages? He would ask, what disputed succession, civil rage, or frenzy of the inhabitants, had induced them to act in hostility to the words of God, and the beauteous works of man ? He would ask what religious zeal or frenzy had added to the mad despair and horrors of war ? The ruin is unlike any thing that appears recorded in any age ; it looks like neither the* barbarities of m.en.nor the judgments of vindictive heaven. There is a waste of desolation, as if caused by fell destroyers, never meaning to return and making but a short period of thv'^ir rapacity. It looks as if some fabled monster had made its passage thro^icrh the country, whose pestiferous breath had blasted m.ore than its voraciou? appetite could devour." JIIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 19 "If there had been any men in the country, who had not their hearts and souls so subdued by fear, as to refuse to speak the truth at ail upon such a subject, they would have told him, there had been no war since the time of Sujah ui Dowlah, — tyrant, indeed, as he was, but then deeply regi'etted by his subjects — that no hostile blow of any enemy had been struck in that land — that there had been no disputed succession — no civil war — no religious frenzy. But that these were the tokens of British friend- ship, the marks left by the embraces of British allies — more dreadful than the blows of the bitterest enemy. They would tell him that these allies had converted a prince into a slave, to make him the principal in the ex- tortion upon his subjects ; — that their rapacity increased in proportion as the means of supplying their avarice diminished ; that they made the sove- reign pay as if they had a right to an increased price, because the labor of extortion and plunder increased. To such causes, they would tell him. these calamities were owing. '^ Need I refer Your Lordships to the strong testimony of Major Naylor when he rescued Colonel Hannay from their hands — where you see that this people, born to submission and bent to most abject subjection — that even they, in whose meek hearts injury had never yet begot resentment, nor even despair bred courage— that their hatred, their abhorrence of Colonel Hannay was such that they clung round him by thousands and thousands ;--that when Major Naylor rescued him, they refused life from the hand that could rescue Hannay ; — that they nourished this desperate consolation, that by their death they should at least thm the number of wretches who suffered by his devastation and extortion. He says that, when he crossed the river, he found the poor wretches quivering upon the parched banks of the polluted river, encouraging their blood to flow, and consoling themselves with the thought, that it would not sink into the earth, but rise to the common God of humanity, and cry aloud for vengeance on their destroyers ! — This warm description — which is no declamation of mine, but founded in actual fact, and in fair, clear proof before Your Lord- ships — speaks powerfully what the cause of these oppressions were, and the perfect justness of those feelings that were occasioned by them. And yet, my Lords, I am asked to prove why these people arose in such con- c(Tt : — ' there must have been machinations, forsooth, and the Begums' macliinations, to produce all this !' — Why did they rise ! — Because they were people in human shape ; because patience under the detested tyran- ny of man is rebellion to the sovereignty of God ; because allegiance to that Povrer that gives us W\q forms of men commands us to maintain the rights of men. And never yet was this truth dismissed from the human heart — never in any time, in any age — never in any clime, where rude man ever nad any social feeling, or where corrupt refinement had subdued all 20 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE fe,,li„,rg -nevfr was this one unsxtinguiKbablc truth dcrtrojed from the heart of man. placed as it is, in the core and centre of it by his MaKcr that man was not made the property of nnvn ; that human power is a trunt for human benelit; and that when it is abu.ed, revenge becomes justice, If not tl>e boumlen duty of the injured ! Tliese, my Lords, were the causes why those people rose." Another |,assagc in the second duy's speech is remarkable, as exhibiting a sort of tourney of intellect between Sheridan and Burke, and in that field of abstract speculation, which was the fa- vorite'arena of the latter. Mr. Burke had, in opening the prose- cution, remarked, that prudence is a quality incompatible xnth vice, and can never be effectively enlisted in its cause:— "I never (said he) knew a man who was bad, fit for service that was good. There is always some discpialifying ingredient, mixing and spoil- in-r the compound. The man seems paralytic on that side, his muscles there have lost their very tone and character— they can- not move. In short, the accomplishment of any thing good is a physical impossibility for such a man. There is decrepitude as well as distortion: he could not, if he would, is not more cer- tain than that he would not, .f he could." To this sentiment the allusions in the following passage refer :— "I am perfectly convinced that there is one idea, which must arise in Your Lordships' minds as a subject of wouder,-how a person of Mr Has- tin-rs' reputed abilities can furnish such matter of accusation aga.nst hun- self° For it must be admitted that ucver was there a person who seems to CO so rashly to work, with such an arrogant appearance of contempt for all conclusions, that maybe deduced from what he advances upon the snbiect When he seems most earnest and laborious to defend himself, it ■vi.r.oars as if he had but one idea uppermost in his mind-a determina- tion not to care what he says, provided he keeps clear of fact. He knows that truth must convict him, and concludes, a converxo, that falsehood will i,'„uit hm ; forgetting that there must be somc^ connection, some system, Jie co-operation, or, otherwise, his host of falsities fall withoiit an enemy self-discomfited and destroyed. But of this he never seems to have had ihe sli..l,t..st apprehension, lie falls to work, an artificer ot traud against all thcM-ules or architecuire ;-he lays his ornamental work first, and his massy fouudation at Ihe top of it ; and thus his whole building tumbles upon his head. Other people look well to their ground, choose their posi- tion and watch whether they are likely to be surprised there ; but he, as EIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAJST. 21 if in the ostentation of his heart, builds upon a precipice, and encamps upon a mine, from choice. He seems to have no one actuating principle, but a steady, persevering resolution not to speak the truth or to tell the fact. " It is impossible almost to treat conduct of this kind with perfect seri- ousness ; yet I am aware that it ought to be more seriously accounted for — because I am sure it has been a scrt of paradox, which must have struck Your Lordships, how any person having so many motives to conceal — having so many reasons to dread detection -should yet go to work so clumsily upon the subject. It is possible, indeed, that it may raise this doubt — whether such a person is of sound mind enough to be a proper object of punishment ; or at least it may give a kind of confused notion, that the guilt cannot be of so deep and black a grain, over which such a thin veil was thrown, and so little trouble taken to avoid detection. I am aware that, to account for this seeming paradox, historians, poets, and even philosophers— at least of ancient times— have adopted the supersti- tious solution of the vulgar, and said that the gods deprive men of reason whom they devote to destruction or to punishment. But to unassuming or unprejudiced reason, there is no need to resort to any supposed super- natural interference ; for the solution will be found in the eternal rule? that formed the mind of man, and gave a quality and nature to every pas- sion that inhabits in it. " An Honorable friend of mine, who is now, I believe, near me, — a gen- tleman, to whom I never can on any occasion refer without feelings of res- pect, and, on this subject, without feelings of the most grateful homage ; —a gentleman, whose abilities upon this occasion, as upon some former ones, happily for the glory of the age in which we live, are not entrusted merely to the perishable eloquence of the day, but will live to be the ad- miration of that hour when all of us are mute, and most of us forgotten ;— that Honor-able gentleman has told you that Prudence, the first of virtues, never can be used in the cause of vice. If, reluctant and diffident, I might take such a liberty, I should express a doubt, whether experience, obser- vation, or history, will warrant us in fully assenting to this observation. It is a noble and a lovely sentiment, my Lords, worthy the mind of him who uttered it, worthy that proud disdain, that generous scorn of the means and instruments of vice, which virtue and genius must ever feel. But I should doubt whether we can read the history of a Philip of ]\[acedon, a Ca?sar,or a Cromwell, without confessing, that there have been evil purposes, bane- ful to the peace and to the rights of men, conducted— if I may not say, with nrudence or with wisdom— yet with awful craft and most successful and commanding subtlety. If, however, I might make a distinction, I should Bay that it is the proud attempt to mix a variety of lordly crime.«, that un- «»eta- pression, having had no equals to control them — no moment for reflection — we conceive that^ if it could have been possible to seize the guilty profli- gates for a moment, you might bring conviction to their hearts and repent- ance to their minds. But when you see a cool, reasoning, deliberate tyrant — one who was not born and bred to arrogance, — who has been nursed in a mercantile line — who has l)een used to look round among his fellow-subjects — to transact business with his equals — to account for con- duct to his master, and, by that wise system of the Company, to detail all his transactions — who never could fly one moment from himself, but mu?t be obliged every night to sit down and hold up a glass to his own soul— who could never be blind to his deformity, and who must have brought his conscience not only to connive at but to approve of it — this it is that dis- tinguishes it from the worst cruelties, the worst enormities of those, who, born to tyranny, and finding no superior, no adviser, have gone to the last presumption that there were none above to control them hereafter. This is a circumstance that aggravates the whole of the guilt of the unfortunate gentleman we are now arraigning at your bar.'' We now come to the Peroration, in which, skilfully and with- out appearance of design, it is contrived that the same sort of appeal to the purity of British justice, with which the oration opened, should, like the repetition of a solemn strain of music, re- cur at its close, — leaving in the minds of the Judges a composed and concentrated feeling of the great public duty they had to perform, in deciding upon the arraignment of guilt brought be- fore them. The Court of Directors, it appeared, had ordered an inquiry into the conduct of the Begums, with a view to the res- titution of their property, if it should appear that the charges against them were unfounded ; but to this proceeding Mr. Hast- ings objected, on the ground that the Begums themselves had not called for such interference in their favor, and that it was incon- sistent with the " Majesty of Justice " to condescend to volunteer Her services. The pompous and Jesuitical style in which thia singular doctrine* is expressed, in a letter addressed by tho * "If nothing- (says Mr. Mil!) remained to stain the repulalicr of Mr. Hastings but t^p EIGHT HON'. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 27 Governor-general to Mr. Macpherson, is thus ingeniously turned to account by the orator, in winding up his masterly statement to a close : — ^ And now before I come to the last magnificent paragraph, let me call the attention of those who, possibly, think themselves capable of judging of the dignity and character of justice in this country ; — let me call the at- tention of those who. arrogantly perhaps, presume that they understand what the features, what the duties of justice are here and in India ; — let them learn a lesson from this great statesman, this enlarged, this liberal philosopher :- ' I hope I shall not depart from the simplicity of official lan- guage, in saying that the Majesty of Justice ought to be approached with solicitation, not descend to provoke or invite it, much less to debase itself by the suggestion of wrongs and the promise of redress, with the denun- ciation of punishment before trial, and even before accusation.' This is the exhortation which Mr. Hastings makes to his counsel. This is the character which he gives of British justice. ****** " But I will ask Your Lordships, do you approve this representation ? Do you feel that this is the true image of Justice ? Is this the character of Brtish justice ? Are these her features ? Is this her countenance ? Is this her gait or her mien ? No, I think even now I hear you calling upon me to turn from this vile libel, this base caricature, this Indian pagod, formed by the hand of guilty and knavish tyranny, to dupe the heart of ignorance, — to turn from this deformed idol to the true Majesty of Justice here. Here, indeed, I see a different form, enthroned by the sovereign hand of Freedom, — awful without severity — commanding without pride — vigilant and active without restlessness or suspicion — searching and inquisitive without meanness or debasement — not arrogantly scorning to stoop to the voice of afflicted innocence, and in its loveliest attitude when bending to uplift the suppliant at its feet. " It is by the majesty, by the form of that Justice, that I do conjure and implore Your Lordships to give your minds to this great business ; that I exhort you to look, not so much to words, which may be denied or quib* bled away, but to the plain facts, — to weigh and consider the testimony ir. your own minds : we know the result must be inevitable. Let the truth appear and our cause is gained. It is this, I conjure Your Lordships, for your own honor, for the honor of the nation, for the honor of human na- ture, now entrusted to your care, — it is this duty that the Commons of ■^gland, I'peaking through us, claims at your hands. irinniples avowed in this singular pleading, his character, among the friends of justi(59, i^uld be sufficiently determined," 28 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE " They exhort you to it by every thing that calls sublimely upon the heart of man. by the Majesty of that Justice which this bold man has' li- belled, by the wide fame of your own tribunal, by the sacred pledge hy 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.'' Though I have selected some of the most remarkable passages of this Speech,* it would be unfair to judge of it even from these specimens. A Report, verbatim^ of any effective speech must always appear diffuse and ungraceful m the perusal. The very repetitions, the redundancy, the accumulation of epithets which gave force and momentum in the career of delivery, but weaken and encumber the march of the style, when read. There is, in- deed, the same sort of difference between a faithful short-hand Report, and those abridged and polished records which Burke has left us of his speeches, as there is between a cast taken di- rectly from the face, (where every line is accurately preserved, but all the blemishes and excrescences are in rigid preservation also,) and a model, over which the correcting hand has passed, and all that was minute or iuperfluous is generalized and softened away. Neither was it in such rhetorical passages as abound, perhaps, rather lavishly, in this Speech, that the chief strength of Mr. Sher- idan's talent lay. Good sense and wit were the great weapons * I had polecled many more, Imt must confess that they appeared to me, when in print, so little worthy of the reputation of the Speech, that I thoug-ht it would be, on the whole, more prudent to omit them. Even of the passages, here cited, I speak rather from my imuginaljon of what they must have been, llian from my actual feeling of what they are. The character, given of such Reports, 1;y Lord I/jiighborough, is, no doubt, but too just. On a motion made by Lord Stanhope, (April 29, 1794), that the short-hand writers, eiJiployed on Hastings's trial, should be summoned to the bar of the House, to read their minutes, Ix>rd Loughborough, in the course of his observations on ihe motion, said, " God forbid that ever their Lordships should call on the short-hand \\Titers to publizh their CJics > for, of all people, short-hand \\Titers were ever the farthest from correciness, and tnere were no man's words they ever heard that they again returned. They were in general ignorant, as acting mp^Jianically ; and by not considering the anteCident, and catching th.-. sound, and not the sense, they perverted l}ie sense of the speaker, and mad« ham appear as ignorant as iJiemselves." HIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 29 of his oratory — shrewdness in detecting the weak points of an adversary, and infinite pov/ers of raillery in exposing it. These were faculties which he possessed in a greater degree than any of his contemporaries ; and so well did he himself know the st'^onghold of his powers, that it was but rarely, after this dis- play in Westminster Hall, that he was tempted to leave it for the higher flights of oratory, or to wander after Sense into that region of metaphor, where too often, like Angelica in the en- chanted palace of Atlante, she is sought for in vain.* His at- tempts, indeed, at the florid or figurative style, whether in his speeches or his writings, were seldom very successful. That luxuriance of fancy, which in Burke was natural and indigenous, was in him rather a forced and exotic growth. It is a remarkable proof of this diflference between them, that while, in the memo- randums of speeches left behind by Burke, we find, that the points of argument and business were those which he prepared, trusting to the ever ready wardrobe of his fancy for their adorn- ment, — in Mr. Sheridan's notes it is chiefly the decorative pas- saojes, that are worked up beforehand to their full polish; while on the resources of his good sense, ingenuity, and temper, he seems to have relied for the management of his reasonings and facts. Hence naturally it arises that the images of Burke, being called up on the instant, like spirits, to perform the bidding of his argument, minister to it throughout, with an almost co- ordinate agency ; while the figurative fancies of Sheridan, already prepared for the occasion, and brought forth to adorn, not assist, the business of the discourse, resemble rather those sprites which the magicians used to keep inclosed in phials, to be produced for a momentary enchantment, and then shut up again. In truth, the similes and illustrations of Burke form such an intimate, and often essential, part of his reasoning, that if the whole strength of the Samson does not lie in those luxuriant locks, it would at least be considerably diminished by their loss. Whereas, in the Speech of Mi*. Sherida]i, which we have just been considering, there is hardly one of the rhetorical ornaments * Curran used to say laughingly, " Wlien I can't talk sense, I talk metaphor." 30 MEMOIRS OF THK LIFE OF THE that might not be detached, without, in any great degree, injuhilg the force of the general statement. Another consequence of tnis ditFerence be/tween them is observable in their respective modes of transition, from what may be called the business of a speech to its more generalized and rhetorical parts. When Sheridan rises, his elevation is not sufficiently prepared ; he starts abruptly and at once from the level of his statement, and sinks down into it again with the same suddenness. But Burke, whose imagin- ation never allows even business to subside into mere prose, sustc. RIGHT UOX. RICHAKD BKINSLEY SHERIDAN". 4.3 CHAPTER II. dii:ath of MR. Sheridan's father. — verses by mrs. sher IDAN ON THE DEATH OF HER SISTER, MRS. TICKELL. In the summer of this year the father of Mr. Sheridan died. He had been recommended to try the air of Lisbon for his health, and had left Dublin for that purpose, accompanied by his younger daughter. But the rapid increase of his malady prevented him from proceeding farther than Margate, where he died about the beginnmg of August, attended in his last moments by his son Richard. We have seen with what harshness, to use no stronger term, Mr. Sheridan was for many years treated by his father, and how persevering and affectionate were the eflbrts, in spite of many capricious repulses, that he made to be restored to forgiveness and favor. In his happiest moments, both of love and fame, the thought of being excluded from the paternal roof came across him with a chill that seemed to sadden all his triumph.* When it is considered, too, that the father, to whom he felt thus amiii- bly, had never distinguished him by any particular kindness, but, on the contrary, had always shown a marked preference for the disposition and abilities of his brother* Charles — it is impos- sible not to acknowledge, in such true final affection, a proof that talent was not the only ornament of Sheridan, and that, hoM ever unfavorable to moral culture was the life that he led, Nature, in forming his mind, had implanted there virtue, as web as genius. C)f ».he tender attention which he paid to his father on his * See ine lelier written by him irmiiediaiel v after his marriage, vol. i. page 80, and the auecUole in page 111, same vol 44 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE death-bed, I am enabled to lay before the reader no less a testi- mony than the letters written at the time by Miss Sheridan, who, as I have already said, accompanied the old gentleman from Ireland, and now shared with her brother the task of com- forting his last moments. And here, — it is difficult even for contempt to keep down the indignation, that one cannot but fee] at those slanderers, under the name of biographers, who 'calling in malice to the aid of their ignorance, have not scrupled to as- sert that the father of Sheridan died unattended by any of his nearest relatives ! — Such are ever the marks that Dulness leaves behind, in its Gothic irruptions into the sanctuary of departed Genius — defacing what it cannot understand, polluting what it has not the soul to reverence, and taking revenge for its own darkness, by the wanton profanation of all that is sacred in the eyes of others. Immediately on the death of their father, Sheridan removed his sister to Deepden — a seat of the Duke of Norfolk in Surrey, which His Grace had lately lent him — and then returned, him- self, to Margate, to pay the last tribute to his father's remains. The letters of Miss Sheridan are addressed to her elder sister in Ireland, and the first which I shall give entire, was written a day or two after her arrival at Deepden. "My Dear Love, Dibdcn. August 18. " Though you have ever been u|)permost in my thoughts, yet it has not been in my power to write since the few lines I sent from Margate. I hope this will find you, in some degree, recovered from the shock you must have experieiiced from the late melancholy event. I trust to your own piety and the ten- derness of your worthy husband, for procuring you such a de- gree of calmness of mind as may secure your health from injury. In the midst of what I have sulfered I have been thankful that you did not share a scene of distress which you could not have relieved. I have supported myself, but I am sure, had we been together, we should have suffert^d more. " With regard to my brother's kindness, I can scarcely ex lliGHT HON. KICHARD BRINSLEY SHEIlIf>A^r. 45 press to you how great it has been. He saw my father T^hile he was still sensible, and never quitted him till the awful moment was past — I will not now dwell on particulars. My mind is not suf- ficiently recovered to enter on the subject, and you could oniy be distressed by it. He returns soon to Margate to pay the last duties in the manner desired by my father. His feelings have been severely tried, and earnestly I pray he may not suf- fer from that cause, or from the fatigue he has endured. His tenderness to me I never . can forget. I had so little claim on him, that I still feel a degree of surprise mixed v/ith my grati- tude. Mrs. Sheridan's reception of me was truly affectionate. They leave me to myself now as much as I please, as I had gone through so much fatigue of body and mind that I require some rest. I have not, as you may suppose, looked much beyond the present hour, but I begin to be more composed. I could now enjoy your society, and I wish for it hourly. I should think I may hope to see you sooner in England than you had intended ; but you will write to me very soon, and let me know everything that concerns you. I know not whether you will feel like me a melancholy pleasure in the reflection that my father received the last kind offices from my brother Richard,* whose conduct on this occasion must convince every one of the goodness of his heart and the truth of his filial affection. One more reflection of consolation is, that nothing was omitted that could have prolonged his life or eased his latter hours. God bless and preserve you, my dear love. I shall soon write more to you, but shall for a short time suspend my journal, as still too many painful thoughts will crowd upon me to suffer me to regain such a frame of mind as I should wish when I write to you. " Ever affectionately your ' ' " E. Sheridan." * In a letter, from which I have given an extract in tlie early part of this volume, wiit- teu by the elder sister of Sheridan a short tipie after his death, in referring to iJie differ- ences that existed between him and his father, she says — " and yet it was tlial son, and not the object of his partial fondness, who at last closed his eyes." It generally hap- pens that the uijustice of siivii parualilies is revenged by tlie ingratitude of tliose wno are 46 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE lu another letter, dated a few days after, she gives an account of the domestic life of Mrs. Sheridan, which, like everything that is related of that most interesting woman, excites a feeling to- wards her memory, little short of love. " My Dear Love, Dihden, Fridaijy 22, " I shall endeavor to resume my journal, though my anxiety to hear from you occupies my mind in a way that unfits me for writing. I have been here almost a week in perfect quiet. While there was company in the house, I stayed in my room, and since my brother's leaving us to go to Margate, I have sat at times with Mrs. Sheridan, who is kind and considerate ; so that I have entire liberty. Her poor sister's* children are all with her. The girl gives her constant employment, and seems to profit by being under so good an instructor. Their father w^as here for some days, but I did not see him. Last night Mrs S. showed me a picture of Mrs. Tick ell, ^vhich she wears round her neck. The thing was misrepresented to you ; — it was not done after her death, but a short time before it. The sketch was taken while she slept, by a painter at Bristol. This Mrs. Sheridan got copied by Cos way, who has softened down the tra- ces of illness in such a way that the picture conveys no gloomy idea. It represents her in a sweet sleep ; w^hich must have been soothing to her friend, after seeing her for a length of time in a state of constant suffering. " My brother left us Wednesday mxorning, and we do not ex pect him to return for some days. He meant only to stay at Margate long enough to attend the last melancholy office, which it was my poor fixther's express desire should be performed in whatever parish he died. * ^ * * * * * ** Sunday, " Dick is still in town, and we do not expect him for some time. Mrs. Sheridan seems now quite reconciled to these little Jie objects of them : and The present instance, as there is but toe much reason to believe, was not altogether an exception to the remark. ♦Mrs. Tjckeli. .HlGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAK. 'i1 absences, which she knows are unavoidable. 1 never saw any one so constant in employing every moment of her time, and to that I attribute, in a great measure, the recovery of her health and spirits. The education of her niece, her music, books, and work, occupy every minute of the day. After dinner, the children, who call her '* Mamma-aunt," spend some time with us, and her man- ner to them is truly delightful. The girl, you know, is the eldest. The eldest boy is about five years old, very like his father, but extremely gentle in his manners. The youngest is past three. The whole set then retire to the music-room. As yet I cannot enjoy their parties ; — a song from Mrs. Sheridan affected me last night in a most painful manner. I shall not try the experiment soon again. Mrs. S. blamed herself for putting me to the trial, and, afVer tea, got a book, which she read to us till supper. This, I find, IS tne general w^ay of passing the evening. " They are now at their music, and I have retired to add a few lines. This day has been more gloomy than we have been for sonae days past ; — it it the first day of our getting into mourning. All the servants in deep mourning made a melancholy appear- ance, and I found it very difficult to sit out the dinner. But as I have dined below since there has been only Mrs. Sheridan and Miss Linley here, I would not sutfer a circumstance, to which I must accustom myself, to break in on their comfort." These children, to whom Mrs. Sheridan thus wholly devoted herself, and continued to do so for the remainder of her life, had lost their mother, Mrs. Tickell, in the year 1787, by the same complaint that afterwards proved fatal to their aunt. The pas- sionate attachment of Mrs. Sheridan to this sister, and the deep grief w^ith whJch she mourned her loss, are expressed in a poem of her own so touchingly, that, to those who love the language of real feeling, 1 need not apologize for their introduction here. Poe- try, in general, is but a cold interpreter of sorrow ; and the more it displays its skill, as an art, the less is it likely to do justice to nature. In wanting these verses, however, the w^orkmanship was forgotten in the subject ; and the critic, to feel them as he ought, should forget his ow^n craft in reading them. 48 • MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF TMS " Written in the Spring of the Year 1788. " The hours and days pass on ; — sw^et Spring returua. And whispers comfort to the heart that mourns : But not to mine, y/hose dear and cherish'd grief Asks for indulgence, but ne'er hopes relief. For, ah. can changing seasons e'er restore The lov'd companion I must still deplore 2 Shall all the wisdom of the world combined Ei'ase thy image, Mary, from my mind, Or bid me hope from others to receive The fond affection thou alone could'st give,-?, Ah, no, my best belov'd. thou still shalt be ' My friend, my sister, all the world to me. ^' With tender woe sad memory woos back time, And paints the scenes when youth was in its prime ; The craggy hill, where rocks, with wild flow'rs crowo d Burst from the hazle copse or verdant ground ; Where sportive nature every form assumes, And, gaily lavish, wastes a thousand blooms ; Where oft we heard the echoing hills repeat Our untaught strains and rural ditties sweet. Till purpling clouds proclaim'd the closing day, While distant streams detain *d the parting ray. Then on some mossy stone we'd sit us down. And watch the changing sky and shadows browB, That swiftly glided o'er the mead below, Or in some fancied form descended slow. How oft, well pleas'd each other to adorn, We stripped the blossoms from the fragrant thorn. Or caught the violet where, in humble bed, Asham'd of its own sweets it hung its head. But, oh, what rapture Mary's eyes would speak, Through her dark hair how rosy glow'd her cheek. If, in her playful search, she saw appear The first-blown cowslip of the opening year. Thy gales, oh Spring, then whisper'd life and joy :— Now mem'ry wakes thy pleasures to destroy, And all thy beauties serve but to renew Regrets too keen for reason to subdue. Ah me ! while tender recollections rise, The ready tears obscure my sadden'd eyes, iilGHT HOJ^. UlCllAKD i^RINSLE^ SHERlDAK 49 And, while surrounding objects they conceal, Her form belov'd the trembling drops reveal. *' Sometimes the lovely, blooming girl I view, My youth's companion, friend for ever true. Whose looks, the sweet expressions of her heart So gaily innocent, so void of art, With soft attraction whi.sper'd blessings drew From all who stopp'd, her beauteous face to view. Then in the dear domestic scene I mourn. And weep past pleasures never to return ! There, where each gentle virtue lov'd to rest, In the pure mansion of my Mary's breast, The days of social happiness are o'er. The voice of harmony is heard no more ; No more her graceful tenderness shall prove The wife's fond duty or the parent's love. Those eyes, which brighten'd with maternal pride, As her sweet infants wanton'd by her side, 1 was my sad fate to see for ever close On life, on love, the world, and all its woes ; To watch the slow disease, with hopeless care. And veil in painful smiles my heart's despair ; 7t see her droop, with restless languor weak, While fatal beauty mantled in her cheek. Like fresh flow'rs springing from some mouldering clay, Cherish'd by death, and blooming from decay. Ye^, tho' oppress'd by ever-varying pain, The gentle sufi'erer scarcely would complain. Hid avery sigh, each trembling doubt reprov'd, To spare a pang to those fond hearts she lov'd. A.nd often, in short intervals of ease. Her kind and cheerful spirit strove to please ; Whilst we^. alas, unable to refuse The sad delight we were so soon to lose, Treasur'd each word, each kind expression claim'd, — * 'Twas me she look'd at,' — * it was me she nam'd.' Thutf xOndly soothing grief, too great to bear, With mournful eagerness and jealous care. " But soon, alas, from hearts with sorrow worn E'en this last comfort was for ever torn • That mind, the seat of wisdom, genius, tane, The cruel hand of sickness now laid waste ; SOU II. ^ oO MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THfi Subdued with pain, it shared the common lot, All, all its lovely energies forgot 1 The husband, parent, sister, knelt in vain, One recollecting look alone to gain : The shades of night her beaming eyes obscur'd, And Nature, vanqulsh'd, no sharp pain endur'd ; Calm and serene — till the last trembling breath Wafted an angel from the bed of death ! " Oh, if the soul, released from mortal cares. Views the sad scene, the voice of mourning hears. Then, dearest saint, didst thou thy heav'n forego, Lingering on earth in pity to our'woe. 'Twas thy kind influence sooth'd our minds to peace And bade our vain and selfish murmurs cease ; 'Twas thy soft smile, that gave the w^orshipp'd clay Of thy bright essence one celestial ray, Making e'en death so beautiful, that we, Gazing on it, forgot our misery. Then — pleasing thought ! — ere to the realms of lij;t Thy franchis'd spirit took its happy flight, With fond regard, perhaps, thou saw'st me bend O'er the cold relics of my heart't best friend, And heard'st me swear, while her dear hand I presv And tears of agony bedew'd my breast, For her lov'd sake to act the mother's part, And take her darling infants to my heart. With tenderest care their youthful minds improve. And guard her treasure with protecting love. Once more look down, blest creature, and behold These arms the precious innocence enfold ; Assist my erring nature to fulfil The sacred trust, and ward off every ill ! And, oh, let her^ who is my dearest care. Thy blest regard and heavenly influence share • Teach me to form her pure and artless mind, Like thine, as true, as innocent, as kind, — That when some fatiire day my hopes shall blesa. And every voice her virtue shall confess, When my fond heart delighted hears her praise. As with unconscioui^ loveliness she strays, * Such,' let me say, with tears of joy the while* * Such was the softness of my Mary's smile ; RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 51 Such was her jouth, so blithe, so rosy sweet, And such her mind, unpractised in deceit ; With artless elegance, unstudied gi'ace, Thus did she gain in every heart a place !' *' Then, while the dear remembrance I behold, Time shall steal on, nor tell me I am old. Till, nature wearied, each fond duty o'er, I join my Angel Friend — to part no more !" To the conduct of Mr. Sheridan, during the last moments of his father, a further testimony has been kindly communicated to me by Mr. Jarvis, a medical gentleman of Margate, who attended Mr. Thomas Sheridan on that occasion, and whose mteresting communication I shall here give in his own words : — " On the 10th of August, 1788, I was first called on to visit Mr. Sheridan, \vho was then fast declining at his lodgings in this place, w here he was in the care of his daughter. On the next day Mr. E. B. Sheridan arrived here from town, having brought with him Dr. Morris, of Parliament street. I was in the bed- room with Mr. Sheridan when the son arrived, and witnessed an interview in which the father showed himself to be strongly im- pressed by his son's attention, saying with considerable emotion, ' Oh Dick, I give you a great deal of trouble !' and seeming to imply by his manner, that his son had been less to blame than himself, for any previous want of cordiality between them. " On my making my last call for the evening, Mr. R. B. Sher- idan, with delicacy, but much earnestness, expressed his fear that the nurse in attendance on his father, might not be so competent as myself to the requisite attentions, and his hope that I would consent to remain in the room for a few of the first hours of the night ; as he himself, having been travelling the preceding night, required some short repose. I complied with his request, and remained at the father's bed-side till relieved by the son, about three o'clock in the morning : — he then insisted on taking my place. From this time he never quitted the house till his father's death ; on the day after which he wrote me a letter, now before me, of which the annexed is an exact copy : 62 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF l^HE ' Sir, Friday Morning. ' I wished to see you this morning before I went, to thank you for your attention and trouble. You will be so good to give the account to Mr. Thompson, who will settle it ; and I must further beg your acceptance of the inclosed from myself. ' I am. Sir, ' Your obedient Servant, 'R. B. Sheridan. ' I have explained to Dr. Morris (who has informed me that you will recommend a proper person), that it is my desire to have the hearse, and the manner of coming to town, as respectful as possible.' " The inclosure, referred to in this letter, was a bank-note of ten pounds, — a most liberal remuneration. Mr. R. B. Sheridan left Margate, intending that his father should be buried in London ; but he there ascertained that it had been his father's expressed wish that he should be buried in the parish next to that in which he should happen to die. He then, consequently, returned to Margate, accompanied by his brother-in-law, Mr. Tickell, with whom and Mr. Thompson and myself, he followed his father's remains to the burial-place, which was not in Margate church-yard, but in the north aisle of the church of St. Peter's." Mr. Jar vis, the writer of the letter from which I have given this extract, had once, as he informs me, the intention of having a cenotaph raised, to the memory of Mr. Sheridan's father, in the church of Margate.* With this view he applied to Dr. Parr for an Inscription, and the following is the tribute to his old friend with which that learned and kind-hearted man supplied him : — ^' This monument, A. D. 1824, was, by subscription, erected to tLe memo- ry of Thomas Sheridan, Esq., who died in the neighboring parish of St. * Though this idea was relinquished, it appears that a friend of Mr. Jarvis, with a zeal for the memory of talent highly lionorable to him, has recently caused a monument to Mr. Thomas Sheridan to be raised in the church of St. Peter. RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 53 John, August 14, 1788, in the 69th year of his age, and, according to hig own request, was there buried. He was grandson to Dr. Thomas Sheridan, the brother of Dr. William, a conscientious non-juror, who, in 1691, was deprived of the Bishopric of Kilmore. He was the son of Dr. Thomas Sheridan, a profound scholar and eminent schoolmaster, intimately connect- ed with Dean Swift and other illustrious writers in the reign of Queen Anne. He was husband to the ingenious and amiable author of Sidney Biddulph and several dramatic pieces favorably received. He was father of the celebrated orator and dramatist, Richard Brinsley Sheridan. He had been the schoolfellow, and, through life, was the companion, of the amiable Archbishop Markham. He was the friend of the learned Dr. Sum- ner, master of Harrow School, and the well-known Dr. Parr. He took his first academical degree in the University of Dublin, about 1736. He was honored by the University of Oxford with the degree of A. M. in 1758, and in 1759 he obtained the same distinction at Cambridge. He, for many years, presided over the theatre of Dublin ; and, at Drury Lane, he in public estimation stood next to David Garrick. In the literary world he was dis- tinguished by numerous and useful writings on the pronunciation of the English language. Through some of his opinions ran a vein of singularity, mingled with the rich ore of genius. In his manners there was dignified ease ; — in his spirit, invincible firmness ; — and in his habits and principles unsuUied integrity.'^ 54 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE CHAPTER III. ILLNESS OF THE KING. — REGENCY. — PRIVATE LIFE OF MR. SHERIDAN. Mr. Sheridan had assuredly no reason to complain of any deficiency of excitement in the new career to which he now devot- ed himself. A succession of great questions, both foreign and domestic, came, one after the other, like the waves described by the poet, — " And one no sooner touched the shore, and died, Than a new follower rose, and swell'd as proudly." Scarcely had the impulse, which his own genius had given to the prosecution of Hastings, begun to abate, when tne indisposi- tion of the King opened another field, not only for the display of all his various powers, but for the fondest speculations of his in- terest and ambition. The robust health and temperate habits of the Monarch, while they held out the temptation of a long lease of power, to those who either enjoyed or were inclined to speculate in his favor, gave proportionably the grace of disinterestedness to the follow- ers of an HeirApparent, whose means of rewarding their devo- tion were, from the same causes, uncertain and remote. The alarming illness of the Monarch, however, gave a new turn to the prospect : — Hope was now seen, like the winged Victory of the ancients, to change sides ; and both the expectations of those who looked forward to the reign of the Prince, as the great and happy millennium of Whiggism, and the apprehensions of the far greater number, to whom the morals of his Royal Highness and his friends were not less formidable than their politics, seemed I^ow on the verv eve of being realized, RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 55 On the first meeting of Parliament, after the illness of His Majesty was known, it was resolved, from considerations of deli- cacy, that the House should adjourn for a fortnight ; at the end of which period it was expected that another short adjournment would be proposed by the Minister. In this interval, the fol- lowing judicious letter was addressed to the Prince of Wales by Mr. Sheridan : — " From the intelligence of to-day we are led to think that Pitt will make something more of a speech, in moving to adjourn on Thursday, than was at first imagined. In this case we presume Your Royal Highness will be of opinion that we must not be wholly silent. I possessed Payne yesterday with my sentiments on the line of conduct which appeared to me best to be adopted on this occasion, that they might be submitted to Your Royal Highness's consideration ; and I take the liberty of repeating my firm conviction, that it w^ill greatly advance Your Royal High- ness's credit, and, in case of events, lay the strongest grounds to baffle every attempt at opposition to Your Royal Highness's just claims and right, that the language of those who may be, in any sort, suspected of knowing Your Royal Highness's wishes and feelings, should be that of great moderation m disclaiming all party views, and avowing the utmost readiness to acquiesce in any reasonable delay. At the same time, I am perfectly aware of the arts which will be practised, and the advantages which some people will attempt to gain by time : but I am equally con- vinced that we should advance their evil views by showing the least impatience or suspicion at present ; and I am also convinced that a third party will soon appear, whose efforts may, in the most decisive manner, prevent this sort of situation and proceed- ing from continuing long. Payne will probably have submitted ^ to Your Royal Highness more fully my idea on this subject, towards which I have already taken some successful steps.* Your Royal Highness will, I am sure, have the goodness to par- * This must allude to the negotiation with Ix)rd Thurlpw, 56 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE don the freedom with which I give my opinion ; — after which 1 have only to add, that whatever Your Royal Highness's judgment decides, shall be the guide of my conduct, and will undoubtedly be so to others." Captain (afterwards Admiral) Payne, of whom mention is made in this letter, held the situation of Comptroller of the Household of the Prince of Wales, and was in attendance upon His Royal Highness, during the early part of the King's illness, at Windsor. The following letters, addressed by him to Mr. She- ridan at this period, contain some curious particulars, both with respect to the Royal patient himself, and the feelings of those about him, which, however secret and confidential they were at the time, may now, without scruple, be made matters of his- tory :— " My dear Sheridan, Half past ten at night, " I arrived here about three quarters of an hour after Pitt had left it. I inclose you the copy of a letter the Prince has just written to the Chancellor, and sent by express, which will give you the outline of the conversation with the Prince, as well as the situation of the Kino-'s health. I think it an advisable mea- sure,* as it is a sword that cuts both ways, without being unfit to be shown to whom he pleases, — but which he will, I think, under- stand best himself. Pitt desired the longest delay that could be granted with propriety, previous to the declaration of the pre- sent calamity. The Duke of York, who is looking over me, and is just come out of the King's room, bids me add that His Majesty's situation is every moment becoming worse. His pulse is weaker and weaker ; and the Doctors say it is impossible to survive it long, if his situation does not take some extraordinary ^change in a few hours. " So far I had got when your servant came, meaning to send this by the express that carried the Chancellor's letter ; in addi- tion to which, the Prince has desired Doctor Warren to write an lileairiing, the comraunicalion lo the Chancellor. RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 57 account to him, which he is now doing. His letter says, if an amendment does not take place in twenty four hours, it is impos- sible for the King to support it : — he adds to me, he will answer for his never living to be declared a lunatic. I say all this to you in confidence, (though I will not answer for being intelligi- ble,) as it goes by your own servant ; but I need not add, your own discretion will remind you how necessary it is that neither my name nor those I use should be quoted even to many of our best friends, whose repetition, without any ill intention, might frustrate views they do not see. " With respect to the papers, the Prince thinks you had better leave them to themselves, as we cannot authorize any report, nor can he contradict the worst ; a few hours must, every indi- vidual says, terminate our suspense, and, therefore, all precaution must be needless : — however, do what you think best. His Roy- al Highness would write to you himself; the agitation he is in will not permit it. Since this letter was begun, all articulation even seems to be at an end with the poor King : but for the two hours precedi;ig, he was in a most determined frenzy. In short, I am myself in so violent a state of agitation, fi^om partici- pating in the feelings of those about me, that if I am intelligible to you, 'tis more than I am to myself. Cataplasms are on his Majesty's feet, and strong fomentations have been used without effect : but let me quit so painful a subject. The Prince was much pleased with my conversation with Lord Loughborough, to whom I do not write, as I conceive 'tis the same, writing to you. " The Archbishop has written a very handsome letter, expres- sive of his duty and offer of service; but he is not required to come down, it being thought too late. " Good night. — I will write upon every occasion that infor- mation may be useful. " Ever yours, most sincerely, " J. W. Payne. " I have been much pleased with the Dukes zeal since my re- turn, especially in this communication to you," 58 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE " Dear Sheridan, Twelve o'clock^ noon. " The King last night about twelve o'clock, being then in a situation he could not long have survived, by the effect of James's powder, had a profuse stool, after w^hich a strong perspiration appeared, and he fell into a profound sleep. We were in hopes this was the o:isis of his disorder, although the doctors were fearful it was so only with respect to one part of his disorder. However, these hopes contmued not above an hour, when he awoke, w^ith a well-conditioned skin, no extraordinary degree of fever, but with the exact state he was in before, with all the ges- tures and ravings of the most confirmed maniac, and a new noise, in imitation of the howling of a dog ; in this situation he was this morning at one o'clock, when we came to bed. The Duke of York, ^vho has been twice in my room in the course of the night, immediately from the King's apartment, says there has not been one moment of lucid interval during the whole night, — which, I must observe to you, is the concurring, as well as /a^aZ testimony of all about him, from the first moment of His Majesty's con- finement. The doctors have since had their consultation, and find His Majesty calmer, and his pulse tolerably good and much re- duced, but the most decided symptoms of insanity. His theme has been all this day on the subject of religion, and of his being inspired, from which his physicians draw the worst consequences^ as to any hopes of amendment. In this situation His Majesty remains at the present moment, which I give you at length, to prevent your giving credit to the thousand ridiculous reports that we hear, even upon the spot. Truth is not easily got at in palaces, and so I find here ; and time only slowly brings it to one's knowledge. One hears a little bit every day from some- body, that has been reserved with great costiveness, or purposely forgotten ; and by all such accounts I find that the present dis- temper has been very palpable for some time past, previous to any confinement from sickness ; and so apprehensive have the people about him been of giving offence by interruption, that the two days (viz. yesterday se'nnight and the Monday following) tliat- he was five hours each on horseback, be was in a confirmed RIGHT HON. RICHAKD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 59 frenzy. On the Monday at his return he burst out into tears to the Duke of York, and said, ' He wished to God he might die, for he was going to be mad ;' and the Queen, who sent to Dr. Warren, on his arrival, privately communicated her knowledge of his situation for some time past, and the melancholy event as it stood exposed. I am prolix upon all these different reports, that you may be completely master of the subject as it stands, and which I shall continue to advertise you of in all its variations. Warren, who is the living principle in this business, (for poor Baker is half crazed himself,) and who I see every half hour, is extremely attentive to the King's disorder. The various fluc- tuations of his ravings, as well as general situation of his health, are accurately written down throughout the day, and this we have got signed by the Physicians every day, and all proper inquiry invited ; for I think it necessary to do every thing that may pre- vent their making use hereafter of any thing like jealousy, sus- picion, or mystery, to create public distrust ; and, therefore, the best and most unequivocal means of satisfaction shall be always attended to. " Five o'clock, P. M, " So faf I had proceeded when I was, on some business of importance, obliged to break off till now ; and, on my return, found your letter ; — I need not, I hope, say your confidence is as safe as if it was retStned to your own mind, and your advice will always be thankfully adopted. The event we looked for last night is postponed, perhaps for a short time, so that, at least, we shall have time to consider more maturely. The Doctors told Pitt they would beg not to be obliged to make their declaration for a fortnight as to the incurability of the King's mind, and not to be surprised if, at- the expiration of that time, they should ask more time ; but that they were perfectly ready to declare now, for the furtherance of public business, that he is now insane ; that it appears to be unconnected with any other disease of his body, and that they have tried all their skill without effect, and that to the disease they a l present see no end in their contemplation : — the"*^ iire their own words, which is all that can be implied in 60 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE an absolute declaration, — for infallibility cannot be ascribed to them. " Should not something be done about the public amusements 1 If it was represented to .Pitt, it might embarrass them either way ; particularly as it might call for a public account every day I think the Chancellor might take a good opportunity to break with his colleagues, if they propose restriction, the Law authority would have great weight with us, as well as preventing even a design of moving the City; — at all events, I think Parliament would not confirm their opinion. If Pitt stirs much, I think any attempt to ^rasp at power might be fatal to his interest, at least, well turned against it. " The Prince has sent for me directly, so I'll send this now, and write again." In the words, " I think the Chancellor might take a good op- portunity to break with his colleagues," the writer alludes to a negotiation which Sheridan had entered into with Lord Thurlow, and by which it was expected that the co-operation of that Learned Lord might be secured, in. consideration of his being allowed to retain the office of Chancellor under the Regency. Lord Thuxlow was one of those persons who, being taken by the world at their own estimate of themselves, contrive to pass upon the times in which they live for much more than they are worth. His bluntness gained him credit for superior honesty, and the same peculiarity of exterior gave a weight, not their own, to his talents ; the roughness of the diamond being, by a very common mistake, made the measure of its value. The nego- tiation for his alliance on this occasion was managed, if not first suggested, by Sheridan ; and Mr. Fox, on his arrival from the Continent, (having been sent for express upon the first announce- ment of the King's illness,) found considerable progress already made in the preliminaries of this heterogeneous compact. The following letter from Admiral Payne, written immediately after the return of Mr. Fox, contains some further allusions to the negotiations with the Chancellor : — RIGHT HON". RICHARD BRlKSLEY SHERIDAN. 61 " My dear Sheridan, " I am this moment returned with the Prince from riding, and heard, with great pleasure, of Cliarles Fox' s arrival ; on which account, he says, I must go to town to-morrow, when I hope to meet you at his house some time before dinner. The Prince is to see the Chancellor to-morrow, and therefore he wishes I should be able to carry to town the result of this interview, or I would set off immediately. Due deference is had to our former opinion upon this subject, and no courtship will be practised ; for the chief object in the visit is to show him the King, who has been worse the two last days than ever: this morning he made an ef- fort to jump out of the window, and is now very turbulent and incoherent. Sir G. Baker went yesterday to give Pitt a little specimen of his loquacity, in his discovery of some material state-secrets, at which he looked astonished. The Phvsicians wish him to be removed to Kew ; on which we shall proceed as we settled. Have you heard any thing of the Foreign Ministers respecting what the P. said at Bagshot 1 The Frenchman has been here two days running, but has not seen the Prince. He sat with me half an hour this morning, and seemed much dis- posed to confer a little closely. He was all admiration and friendship for the Prince, and said he was sure every body would unite to give vigor to his government. " To-morrow you shall hear particulars; in the mean time I can only add I have none of the apprehensions contained in Lord L.'s letter. I have had correspondence enough myself on this subject to convince me of the impossibility of the Ministry ma- naging the present Parliament by any contrivance hostile to the Prince. Dinner is on table ; so adieu ; and be assured of the truth and sincerity of " Yours affectionately, '* Windsor, Monday, 5 o'clock, P. if. " J. W. P. " I have just got Rodney's proxy sent." The situation in which Mr. Fox was placed by the treaty thus commenc/ed, before his arrival, with the Chancellor, was not a 62 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE little embarrassing. In addition to the distaste which he must have felt for such a union, he had been already, it appears, in some degree pledgedjto bestow the Great Seal, in the event of a change, upon Lord Loughborough. Finding, however, the Prince and his party so far committed in the negotiation with Lord Thurlow, he thought it expedient, however contrary to his own wishes, to accede to their views ; and a letter, addressed by him to Mr. Sheridan on the occasion, shows the struggle w4th his own feelings and opinions, which this concession cost him : — " Dear Sheridan, " fc have swallowed the pill, — a most bitter one it was, — and have written to Lord Loughborough, whose answer of course must be consent. What is to be done next ? Should the Prince himself, you, or I, or Warren, be the person to speak to the Chancellor ? The objection to the last is, that he must probably wait for an opportunity, and that no time is to be lost. Pray tell me w^hat is to be done : I am convinced, after all, the nego- tiation will not succeed, and am not sure that I am sorry for it. I do not remember ever feeling so uneasy about any political thing I ever did in my life. Call if you can. " Yours ever, '' Sat past 12. " C. J. F." Lord Loughborough, in the mean time, with a vigilance quick- ened by his own personal views, kept watch on the mysterious movements of the Chancellor ; and, as appears by the following letter, not only saw reason to suspect duplicity himself, but took care that Mr. Fox and Mr. Sheridan should share in his dis- trust : — "My dear S. " I was afraid to pursue the conversation on the circumstance of the Inspection committed to the Chancellor, lest the reflec- tions that arise upon it might have made too strong an impres- sion on some of our neighbors last night. It does indeed appear to me full pf mischief, and of that sort most likely to affect the RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 63 apprehensions of our best friends, (of Lord Jolin for instance,) and to increase their reluctance to take any active part. " The Chancellor's object evidently is to make his way by himself, and he has managed hitherto as one very well practised in that game. His conversations, both with you and Mr. Fox, were encouraging, but at the same time checked all explanations on his part under a pretence of delicacy towards his colleagues. When he let them go to Salthill and contrived to dine at Wind- sor, he certainly took a step that most men would have felt not very delicate in its appearance, and unless there was some pri- vate understanding between him and them, not altogether fair ; especially if you add to it the sort of conversation he held with regard to them. I cannot help thinking that the difficulties of managing the patient have been excited or improved to lead to the proposal of his inspection, (without the Prince being con- scious of it,) for by that situation he gains an easy and frequent access to him, and an opportunity of possessing the confidence of the Queen. I believe this the more from the account of the tenderness he showed at his first interview, for ] am sure, it is not in his character to feel any. With a little instruction from Lord Hawksbury, the sort of management that was carried on by means of the Princess-Dowager, in the early part of the reign, may easily be practised. In short, I think he will try to find the key of the back stairs, and, with that in his pocket, take any situation that preserves his access, and enables him to hold a line between different parties. In the present moment, how- ever, he has taken a position that puts the command of the House of Lords in his hands, for * * * ■t 'J * " I wish Mr. Fox and you would give these considerations what weight you think they deserve, and try if any means can be taken to remedy this mischief, if it appears in the same light to you " Ever yours, &;c." * The remainder of this sentence is effaced by damp 64 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THBJ What were the motives that induced Lord Thurlow to break off so suddenly his negotiation with the Prince's party, and de- clare himself with such vehemence on the side of the King and Mr. Pitt, it does not appear very easy to ascertain. Possibly, from his opportunities of visiting the Royal Patient, he had been led to conceive sufficient hopes of recovery, to incline the bal- ance of his speculation that way ; or, perhaps, in the influence of Lord Loughborough* over Mr. Fox, he saw a risk of being supplanted in his views on the Great Seal. Whatever may have been the motive, it is certain that his negotiation with the Whigs had been amicably carried on, till within a few hours of his de- livery of^that speech, from whose enthusiasm the public could little suspect how fresh from the incomplete bargain of defection was the speaker, and in the course of w^hich he gave vent to the w^ell-known declaration, that " his debt of gratitude to His Ma- psty was amjple, for the many favors he had graciously con- fcxTed upon him, w^hich, when he forgot, might God forget him!"f " As it is not my desire to imitate those biographers, who swell their pages with details that belong more properly to History, I shall forbear to enter into a minute or consecutive narrative of the proceedings of Parliament on the important subject of the Regency. A writer of political biography has a right, no doubt, like an engineer who constructs a navigable canal, to lay every brook and spring in the neighborhood under contribution for the supply and enrichment of his work. But, to turn into it the whole contents of the Annual Register and Parliamentary De- bates is a sort of literary engineering, not quite so laudable, which, after the example set by a Right Reverend biographer of jMr. Pitt, will hardly again be attempted by any one, whose am- bition, at least, it is to be read as well as bought. Mr. Fox and Mr. Pitt, it is well known, differed essentially, not only with respect to the form of the proceedings, which the lat- * Lord Loughborough is supposed to have been the person who instilled into the mind Oi Mr. Fox the idea of advancing that claim of right for the Prince, which gave Mr. Pitt, m principle 3s well as in fact, such an advantage over him. f "Forget you !" said Wilkes, '' he'll sec you d — d first." felGHT HON. EiCHAED BEINSLEY SHEEIDAN. 65 ter recommended in that suspension of the Royal authority, but a^so with respect to the abstract constitutional principles, upon which those proceedings of the Minister were professedly founded. As soon as the nature of the malady, with which the King was afflicted, had been ascertained by a regular examination of the physicians in attendance on His Majesty, Mr. Pitt moved (on the 10th of December), that a " Committee be appointed to ex- amine and report precedents of such proceedings as may have been had, in case of the personal exercise of the Royal authority being prevented or interrupted, by infancy, sickness, infirmity, oi otherwise, with a view to provide for the same."^ It was immediately upon this motion t^^t Mr. Fox advanced that inconsiderate claim of Right for the Prince of Wales, of which his rival availed himself so dexterously and triumphantly. Having asserted that there existed no precedent whatever that could bear upon the present case, Mr. Fox proceeded to say, that '• the circumstance to be provided for did not depend upon their deliberations as a House of Parliament, — it rested else- where. There was then a person in the kingdom, different from any other person that any existing precedents could refer to, — an Heir Apparent, of full age and capacity to exercise the royal power. It behoved them, therefore, to waste not a moment un- necessarily, but to proceed with all becoming speed and diligence to restore the Sovereign power and the exercise of the Royal Authority. From what he had read of history, from the ideas he had formed of the law, and, what was still more precious, of the spirit of the Constitution, from every reasoning and analogy; * Mr. Burke and Mr. Sheridan were both members of this committee, and the follow ing letter from the former to Sheridan refers to it : — " My dear Sir, "My idea was, that on Fox's declaring that the precedents, neither individually nor colleciively, do at all apply, our attendance ought to have been merely formal. But as you think; otherwise, I shall certainly be at the committee soon after one. I rather think, that they will n-)t attempt to garble: because, f'upposing the precedents to apply, the major part are certainly in their favor. It is not likely that they mean to suppress, — but it is good to be on our guard . " Ever m.ost truly yours, &:c. " Geiard Street, Thursday Morning " EoiruND Bueke." 66 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE drawn from those sources, he declared that he had not in his mind a doubt, and he should think himself culpable if he did not take the first opportunity of declaring it, that, in the present con- dition of His Majesty, His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales had as clear, as express a Right to exercise the power of Sove- reignty, during the continuance of the illness and incapacity, with which it had pleased God to afflict His Majesty, as in the case of His Majesty's having undergone a natural demise." It is said that, during the delivery of this adventurous opinion, thc' countenance of Mr. Pitt was seen to brighten with exultation at the mistake into which he perceived his adversary was hurry- ing ; and scarcely had the sentence, just quoted, been concluded, when, slapping his thigh triumphantly, he turned to the person who sat next to him, and said, " I'll un- Whig the gentleman for the rest of his life !" Even without this anecdote, which may be depended upon as authentic, we have sufficient evidence that such were his feelings in the burst of animation and confidence with which he instantly replied to Mr. Fox, — taking his ground, with an almost equal temerity, upon the directly opposite doctrine, and asserting, not only that " in the case of the interruption of the personal exer- cise of the Royal Authority, it devolved upon the other branches of the Legislature to provide a substitute for that authority," but that " the Prince of Wales had no more right to exercise the powers of government than any other person in the realm.'' Tlie truth is, the assertion of a Right was equally erroneous, on both sides of the question. The Constitution having pro- vided no legal remedy for such an exigence as had now occurred, the two Houses of Parliament had as little right (in the strict sense of the word) to supply the deficiency of the Royal power, as the Piince had to be the person elected or adjudged for that purpose. Constitutional analogy and expediency were the only authorities by which the measures necessary in such a conjunc- ture could be either guided or sanctioned ; and if the disputants on each side had softened down their tone to this true and prac>- tical view of the case, there would have been no material differ- maST HOK. RICHARD BRlKSLEY SHERIDAN. 6? ence, in the first stage of the proceedings between them, — Mr. Pitt being ready to allow that the Heir Apparent was the ob- vious person to whom expediency pointed as the depository of the Royal power, and Mr. Fox having granted, in a subsequent explanation of his doctrine, that, strong as was the right upon whjA the claim of the Prince was founded. His Royal Highness could not assume that right till it had been formally adjudicated to him by Parliament. The principle, however, having been imprudently broached, Mr. Pitt was too expert a tactician not to avail himself of the advantage it gave him. He was thus, indeed, furnished with an opportunity, not only of gaining time by an artful protraction of the discussions, but of occupying vic- toriously the ground of Whiggism, which Mr. Fox had, in his impatience or precipitancy, deserted, and of thus adding to the character, which he had recently acquired, of a defender of the prerogatives of the Crown, the more brilliant reputation of an assertor of the rights of the people. In the popular view which Mr. Pitt found it convenient to take of this question, he was led, or fell voluntarily into some glaring errors, which pervaded the whole of his reasonings on the subject. In his anxiety to prove the omnipotence of Parliament, he evidently confounded the Estates of tlig|realm with the Legis- lature,* and attributed to two branches of the latter such powers as are only legally possessed by the whole three in Parliament as- sembled. For the purpose, too, of flattering the people with the notion that to them had now reverted the right of choosing their temporary Sovereign, he applied a principle, which ought to be reserved for extreme cases, to an exigence by no means requir ing this ultimate appeal, — the defect in the government being such as the still existing Estates of the realm, appointed to speak the will of the people, but superseding any direct exercise of their power, were fully competent, as in the instance of the Re- volution, to remedy. j- * Air. Grattan and ihe Irish Parliament carried this error still farther, and founded all their proceedings on the necessity of " providing for the deficiency of the Third Estate.*' * fhe most luminous view that has been taken of this Question is to be foimd in an A^ 68 MEMOiiiS OF the life of THfi Indeed, the solemn use of such language as Mr. Pitt, in his over-acted Whiggism, employed upon this occasion,— namely, that the " right " of appointing a substitute for the Royal power was " to be found in the voice and the sense of the people," — is applicable only to those conjunctures, brought on by misrule and oppression, when all forms are lost in the necessity of Mlief, and when the right of the people to change and choose their rulers is among the most sacred and inalienable that either nature or social polity has ordained. But, to apply the language of that last resource to the present emergency w^as to brandish the sword of Goliath* on an occasion that by no means called for it. The question of the Prince's claim, — in spite of the efforts of the Prince himself and of his Royal relatives to avert the agitation of it, — was, for evident reasons, forced into discussion by the Minister, and decided by a majority, not only of the two Houses but of the nation, in his favor. During one of the long debates to which the question gave rise, Mr. Sheridan allowed himself to be betrayed into some expressions, which, considering the delicate predicament in which the Prince was placed by the controversy, were not marked with his usual tact and sagacity. In alluding to the claim of Right advanced for His Royal High- ness, and deprecatinc^^y further agitation of it, he " reminded the Right HonorableGentleman (Mr. Pitt) of the danger of provoking that claim to be asserted [a loud cry of hear ! hear !], which, he observed, had not yet be^n preferred. [Another cry of hear ! hear !]" This was the very language that Mr. Pitt most wished his adversaries to assume, and, accordingly, he turned it to account with all his usual mastery and haughtiness. " He had now," he said, " an additional reason for asserting the authority of the House, and defining the boundaries of Right, when the deliberative faculties of Parliament were invaded, and an indecent menace thrown out to awe and influence their pro- licle of the Edinburgh Review, on the Regency of 1811, — written by one of the most learned and able men of our day, Mr. John Allen. * A simile applied by Lord Somers to the power of Impeachment, which, he said, *' should be like Goliath's sword, kept in the temple, and not used but upon grea,t occa sions." HIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 69 ceedings. In the discussion of the question, the House, he trusted, would do their duty, in spite of any threat that might be thrown out. Men, who felt their native freedom, w^ould not submit to a threat, however high the authority from w^hich it might come."* The restrictions of the Prerogative with which Mr. Pitt thought proper to encumber the transfer of the Royal power to the Prince, formed the second great point of discussion between the parties, and brought equally adverse principles into play. Mr. Fox, still maintaining his position on the side of Royalty, defended it with much more tenable weapons than the question of Right had enabled him to wield. So founded, indeed, in the purest principles of Whiggism did he consider his opposition, on this memorable occasion, to any limitation of the Prerogative in the hands of a Regent, that he has, in his History of James II., put those principles deliberately upon record, as a funda- mental article in the creed of his party. The passage to which I allude occurs in his remarks upon the Exclusion Bill ; and as it contains, in a condensed form, the spirit of what he urged on the same point in 1789, 1 cannot do better than lay his own words before the reader. After expressing his opinion that, at the pe- riod of which he writes, the measure of exclusion from the monarchy altogether would have been preferable to any limit- ation of its powers, he proceeds to say : — " The Whigs, who consider the powers of the Crown as a trust for the people, a doctrine which the Tories themselves, when pushed in argument, will sometimes admit, naturally think it their duty rather to change the manager of the trust than impair the subject of it ; while others, who consider them as the right or property of the King, will as naturally act as they would do in the case of any other property, and consent to the loss or annihilation of any part of it, for the purpose of preserving the remainder to him, whom they style the rightful owner." Further on he adds: — " The Royal Prerogative ought, according to the Whigs, to be reduced to such powers as are in their exercise beneficial to the people ; and of the benefit of these they will not rashly suffer * ImpaHial Report of all the Proceedings cm the Subject of the Regency. 70 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE the people to be deprived, whether the executive power be in the hands of an hereditary or of an elective King, of a Eegent, or of any other denomination of magistrate ; while, on the other hand, they who consider Prerogative with reference only to Royalty will, with equal readiness, consent either to the exten- sion or the suspension of its exercise, as the occasional interests of the Prince may seem to require." Taking this as a correct exposition of the doctrines of the two parties, of which Mr. Fox and Mr. Pitt may be considered to have been the representatives in the Regency question of 1789, it will strike some minds that, however the Whig may flatter himself that the principle by which he is guided m such exigencies is favorable to liberty, and however the Tory may, with equal sin- cerity, believe his suspension of the Prerogative on these occasions to be advantageous to the Crown, yet that in both of the princi- ples, so defined, there is an evident tendency to produce effects, wholly different from those which the parties professing them con- template. On the one side, to sanction from authority the notion, that there are some powers of the Crown which may be safely dis- pensed with, — to accustom the people to an abridged exercise of the Prerogative, with the risk of suggesting to their minds that its full eflicacy needs not be resumed, — to set an example, in short, of reducing the Kingly Power, which, by its success, may invite and authorize still further encroachments, — all these are dano-ers to which the alleged doctrine of Torvism, whenever brought into practice, exposes its idol ; and more particularly in enlightened and speculative times, when the minds of men are in quest of the right and the useful, and when a superfluity of power is one of those abuses, which they are least likely to overlook or tolerate. In such seasons, the experiment of the Tory might lead to all that he most deprecates, and the branches of the Preroga- tive, once cut away, might, like the lopped boughs of the fir-tree, never grow again. On the other hand, the Whig, who asserts that the Royal Pre- rogative ought to be reduced to such powers as are beneficial to HIGHT HON. RICHARD BRIXSLEY SHERIDAN. 71 the people, and yet stipulates, as an invariable principle, for the transfer of that Prerogative full and unimpaired, whenever it passes into other hands, appears, even more perhaps than the Tory, to throw an obstacle in the way of his own object. Circumstances, it is not denied, may arise w^hen the increase of the powers of the Crown, in other ways, may render it advisable to control some of its established prerogatives. But, where are we to find a fit moment for such a reform, — or what opening will be left for it by this fastidious Whig principle, which, in 1680, could see no middle step betw^een a change of the Succession and an undimin- ished maintenance of the Prerogative, and which, in 1789, almost upon the heels of a Declaration that " the power of the Crown had increased and ought to be diminished," protested against even an experimental reduction of it ! According to Mr. Fox, it is a distinctive characteristic of the Tory, to attach more importance to the person of the King than to his office. But, assuredly, the Tory is not singular in this want of political abstraction; and, in England, (from a defect, Hume thinks, inherent in all limited monarchies,) the personal qualities and opinions of the Sovereign have considerable influence upon the whole course of public aflTairs, — being felt alike in that court- ly sphere around them where their attraction acts, and in that outer circle of opposition where their repulsion comes into play. To this influence, then, upon the govermnent and the community, of which no abstraction can deprive the person of the monarch, the Whig principle in question (which seems to consider entireness of Prerogative as necessary to a King, as the entireness ofhis limbs was held to be among the Athenians,) superadds the vast power, both actual and virtual, which would flow from the inviolability of the Royal office, and forecloses, so far, the chance which the more pliant Tory doctrine would leave open, of counteracting the eflects of the King's indirect personal influence, by curtailing or weaken- ing the grasp of some of his direct regal powers. Ovid repre- sents the Deity of Light (and on an occasion, too, which may be called a Regency question) as crowned with movable rays, which might be put off'when too strong or dazzling. But, according to 72 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE this principle, the crown of Prerogative must keep its rays fixed and immovable, and (as the poet expresses it) " ciixa caput omnb micantes.^^ Upon the whole, however high the authorities, by which this "Whig doctrine was enforced in 1789, its manifest tendency, in most cases, to secure a perpetuity of superfluous powers to the Crown, appears to render it unfit, at least as an invariable prin- ciple, for any party professing to have the liberty of the people for their object. The Prince, in his admirable Letter upon the subject of the Regency to Mr. Pitt, was made to express the un- willingness which he felt " that in his person an experiment should be made to ascertain with how small a portion of kingly powxr the executive government of the country might be carried on ;" — but imagination has not flir to go in supposing a case, where the enormous patronage vested in the Crown, and the consequent increase of a Royal bias through the community, might give such an undue and unsafe preponderance to that branch of the Legis- lature, as would render any safe opportunity, however acquired, of ascertaining wdth how much less power the executive government could be carried on, most acceptable, in spite of any dogmas to the contrary, to all true lovers as well of the monarchy as of the people. Having given thus much consideration to the opinions and prin- ciples, professed on both sides of this constitutional question, it is mortifying, after all, to be obliged to acknowledge, that, in the relative situation of the two parties at the moment, may be found perhaps the real, and but too natural, source of the decidedly op< posite views which they took of the subject. Mr. Pitt, about to surrender the possession of power to his rival, had a very intel- ligible interest in reducing the value of the transfer, and (as a retreating army spike the guns they leave behind) rendering the engines of Preroo;ative as useless as possible to his successor. Mr. Fox, too, had as natural a motive to oppose such a design; and, aware that the chief aim of these restrictive measures was to entail upon the Whig ministry of the Regent a weak Government and strong Opposition, would, of course, eagerly welcome the aid of any abstract principle, that might sanction him in resisting RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 73 such a mutilation of the Royal power ; — well knowing that (as in the case of the Peerage Bill in the reign of George I.) the pro- ceedings altogether were actuated more by ill-will to the succes- sor in the trust, than by any sincere zeal for the purity of its exercise. Had the situations of the two leaders been reversed, it is more than probable that their modes of tliinking and acting w^ould have been so likewise. Mr. Pitt, with the prospect of power before his eyes, w^ould have been still more strenuous, perhaps, for the unbroken transmission of the Prerogative — his natural leaning on the side of power being increased by his- own approaching share m it. Mr. Fox, too, if stopped, like his rival, in a career of suc- cessful administration, and obliged to surrender up the reins of the state to Tory guidance, might have found in his popular prin- ciples a still more plausible pretext, for the abridgment of power in such unconstitutional hands. He might even too, perhaps, (as his India Bill warrants us in supposing) have been tempted into the same sort of alienation of the Royal patronage, as that which Mr, Pitt now practised in the establishment of the Queen, and have taken care to leave behind him a stronghold of Whiggism, to facilitate the resumption of his position, whenever an opportu- nity might present itself Such is human nature, even in its ' noblest specimens, and so are the strongest spirits shaped by the mould in which chance and circumstances have placed them. Mr. Sheridan spoke frequently in the Debates on this question, but his most important agency lay in the less public business connected with it. He was the confidential adviser of the Prince throughout, directed every step he took, and was the author of most of his correspondence on the subject. There is little doubt, I think, that the celebrated and masterly Letter to Mr. Pitt, which by some persons has been attributed to Burke, and by others to Sir Gilbert Elliot (afterwards Lord Minto), w^as prin- cipally the production of Mr. Sheridan. For the supposition that it was w^ritten by Burke there are, besides the merits ol* the production, but very scanty grounds. So little was he at that period in those habits of confidence with the Prince, which would VOL. u. 4 74 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF I HS entitle him to be selected for such a task in preference to Sheridan, that but eight or ten days before the date of this letter (Jan. 2.) he had declared in the House' of Commons, that '• he knew as little of the inside of Carlton House as he did of Buckingham House," Indeed, the violent state of this extraordinary man's temper, durmg the whole of the discussions and proceedings on the l^egency, would have rendered him, even had his intimacy with the Prince been closer, an unfit person for the composition of a document, requiring so much caution, temper, and delicacy. The conjecture that Sir Gilbert Elliot was the author of it is somewhat more plausible, — that gentleman being at this period high in the favor of the Prince, and possessing talents sufficient to authorize the suspicion (which was in itself a reputation) that he had been the writer of a composition so admirable. But it seems hardly necessary to go farther, in quest of its author, than Mr. Sheridan, who, besides being known to have acted the part of the Prince's adviser through the whole transaction, is proved by the rough copies found among his papers, to have written several other important documents connected with the Regency. I may also add that an eminent statesman of the present day, w^ho w^as at that period, though very young, a distinguished friend of Mr. Sheridan, and who has shown by the ability of his own State Papers that he has not forgot the lessons of that school from which this able production emanated, remembers having heard some passages of the Letter discussed m Bruton-street, as if it were then in the progress of composition, and has always, I believe, been under the impression that it was prmcipally the work of Mr. Sheridan.* I had written thus far on the subject of this Letter — and shall leave what 1 have A\Titten as a memorial of the fallacy of such conjectures — when, having still some doubts of my correctness in attributing the honor of the composition to Sheridan, I resolved to ask the opinion of my friend. Sir James Mackmtosh, a person * To this autiiorily may ])e added also llial of the Bishop of Winchester, who says,— *' Mr. Sheridan was supposed to have been materially concerned in drawing up this ad- mirable composition." RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAIST. 7o above all others qualified, by relationship of talent, to recognize and hold parley with the mighty spirit of Burke, in whatever shape the '• Royal Dane " may appear. The strong impression on his mind — amounting almost to certainty — was that no other hand but that of Burke could have written the greater part of the letter ;* and by a more diligent inquiry, in which his kind- ness assisted me, it has been ascertained that his opinion was, as it could not fail to be, correct. The following extract from a letter written by Lord Minto at the time, referring obviously to the surmise that he was, himself, the author of the paper, con- firms beyond a doubt the fact, that it was written almost solely by Burke : — '- January Z\st, 1789. •' There was not a word of the Prince's letter to Pitt mine. It was origi- nally Burke's, altered a little, but not improved, by Sheridan and other critics. The answer made by the Prince yesterday to the Address of the two Houses was entirely mine, and done in a great hurry half an hour be- fore it was to be delivered." While it is with regret I give up the claim of Mr. Sheridan to this fine specimen of English composition, it but adds to my in- tense admiration of Burke — not on acke out soon after among the eminent men of that day, and were attended with consequences so important to themselves and the country. By the difference just mentioned, between Mr. Pitt and Lord Thurlow, the ministerial arrange- ments of 1793 were facilitated, and the learned Lord, after all his sturdy pliancy, consigned to a life of ineffectual discontent ever after. The disagreement between Mr. Barke and Mr. Fox, if not ac- tually originating now — and its foundation had been, perhaps, laid from the beginning, in the total dissimilarity of their dispo- sitions and <5entiments — was, at least, considerably ripened and accelerated by the events of this period, and by the discontent that each of them, like partners in unsuccessful play, was known to feel at the mistakes which the other had committed in the game. Mr. Fox had, unquestionably, every reason to lament as well as blame the violence and virulence by which his associate 78 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE had disgraced the contest. The effect, indeed, produced upon the public by the irreverent sallies of Burke, and by the too evident triumph, both of hate and hope, with which he regarded the ca- lamitous situation of the King, contributed not a little to render still lower the already low temperature of popularity at which his party stood throughout the country. It seemed as if a long course of ineffectual struggle in politics, of frustrated ambition and unrewarded talents, had at length exasperated his mind to a degree beyond endurance ; and the extravagances into which he was hurried in his speeches on this question, appear to have been but the first workings of that impatience of a losing cause — that resentment of failure, and disgust at his partners in it — which soon afterwards found such a signal opportunity of ex- ploding. That Mr. Burke, upon flir less grounds, was equally discon- tented with his co-operators in this emergency, may be collected from the following passage of a letter addressed by him in the summer of this year to Lord Charlemont, and given by Hardy in his Memoirs of that nobleman : — " Perpetual failure, even though nothing in that failure can be fixed on the improper choice of the object or the injudicious choice of means, will detract every day more and more from a man-s credit, until he ends with- out success and without reputation. In fact, a constant pursuit even of the best objects, without adequate instruments, detracts something from the opinion of a man's judgment. This, I think, may be in part the cause of the inactivity of others of our friends who are in the vigor of life and in possession of a great degree of lead and authority. I do not blame them, though I lament that state of the public mind, in which the people can consider the exclusion of such talents and such virtues from their ser- vice, as a point gained to them. The only point in which I can find any thing to blame in these friends, is their not taking the effectual means, which they certainly had in their power, of making an honorable retreat from their prospect of power into the possession of reputation, by an ef- fectual defence of themselves. There was an opportunity which was not made use of for that purpose, and which could scarcely have failed of turn- ing the tables on their adversaries." Another instance of the embittering influence of these transac- tttam UOn, RICHARD BnlNSLJ:Y gHEJ^lDAK. 79 tions may be traced in their effects upon Mr. Burke and Mr. Sheridan — between whom there had arisen a degree of emula- tion, amounting to jealousy, which, though hitherto chiefly con- fined to one of the parties, received on this occasion such an addition of fuel, as spread it equally through the minds of both, and conduced, in no small degree, to the explosion that followed. Both Irishmen, and both adventurers in a region so much elevat- ed above their original station, it was but natural that some such feeling should kindle between them ; and that, as Burke was already mid-way in his career, when Sheridan was but entering the field, the stirrings, whether of emulation or envy, should first be felt by the latter. It is, indeed, said that in the ceremonial of Hastings's Trial, the privileges enjoyed by Burke, as a Privy- councillor, were regarded with evident uneasiness by his brother Manager, who could not as yet boast the distinction of Right Honorable before his name. As soon, however, as the rapid run of Sheridan's success had enabled him to overtake his veteran rival, this feeling of jealousy took possession in full force of the latter, — and the close relations of intimacy aud confidence, to which Sheridan was now admitted both by Mr. Fox and the Prince, are supposed to have been not the least of those causes of irritation and disgust, by which Burke was at length driven to break with the party altogether, and to show his gigantic strength at parting, by carrying away some of the strongest pillars of Whiggism in his grasp. Lastly, to this painful list of the feuds, whose origin is to be found in the times and transactions of which we are speaking, may be added that slight, but too v^isible cloud of misunderstanding, which arose between Mr. Fox and Mr. Sheridan, and which, though it never darkened into any thing serious, continued to pervade their intercourse with each other to the last — exhibiting itself, on the part of Mr. Fox, in a degree of distrustful reserve not natural to him, and, on the side of Sheridan, in some of those counter-workings of influence, which, as I have already said, he was sometimes induced by his love of the diplomacy of politics to practise. 8() MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE Aaiong the appointments named in contemplation of a Regen- cy, the place of Treasurer of the Navy was allotted to Mr. She- ridan. He would never, however, admit the idea of certainty in any of the arrangements so sanguinely calculated upon, but continually impressed upon his impatient friends the possibility, if not probability, of the King's recovery. He had even refused to look at the plan of the apartments, vrhich he hmiself was to occupy in Somerset House ; and had but just agreed that it should be sent to him for examination, on the very day when the King was declared convalescent by Dr. Warren. " He entered his own house (to use the words of the relater of the anecdote) at dinner-time with the news. There were present, — besides Mrs. Sheridan and his sister, — Tickell, who, on the change of ad- ministration, was to have been immedialely brought into Parlia- ment, — Joseph Eichardson, who was to have had Tickell's place of Commissioner of the Stamp-office, — Mr. Reid, and some others. Not one of the company but had cherished expectations from the approaching change — not one of them, however, had lost so much as Mr. Sheridan. With his wonted equanimity he announced the sudden turn affairs had taken, and looking round him cheerfully, as he filled a large glass, said, — ' Let us all join in drinking His Majesty's speedy recovery.' " The measures which the Irish Parliament adopted on this occasion, would have been productive of anomalies, both theoreti- cal and practical, had the continued illness of the King allowed the projected Regency to take place. As it was, the most material consequence that ensued was the dismissal from their official situations of Mr. Ponsonby and other powerful individu- als, by which the Whig party received such an accession of strength, as enabled them to work out for their country the few blessings of liberty that still remain to her. Among the victims to their votes on this question was Mr. Charles Sheridan, who, on the recovery of the King, was dismissed from his office of Sec- retary of War, but received compensation by a pension of 1200/. a year, with the reversion of 300/. a year to his wife. The ready and ardent burst of devotion with which Ireland, at BIGHT HON. RICHAKD BRINSLEY SHEHIDAN. 81 this moment, like the Pythagoreans at their morning worship, turned to welcome with her Harp the Rising Sun, was long re- membered by the object of her homage with pride and gratitude, — and, let us trust, is not even yet entirely forgotten.* It has akeady been mentioned that to Mr. Sheridan, at this period, was entrusted the task of drawing up several of the State Papers of the Heir-Apparent. From the rough copies of these papers that have fallen into my hands, I shall content myself with selecting two Letters — the first of which was addressed by the Prince to the Queen, immediately after the communication to her Majesty of the Resolution of the two Houses placing the Royal Household under her control. " Before Your Majesty gives an answer to the application for your Royal permission to place under Your Majesty ^s separate authority the direction and appointment of the King^s household, and thereby to separate from the difficult and arduous situation which I am unfortunately called upon to fill, the accustomed and necessary support which has ever belonged to it, permit me, with every sentiment of duty and affection towards Your Majesty, to entreat your attentive perusal of the papers which I have the honor to enclose. They contain a sketch of the plan now proposed to be carried into execution as communicated to me by Mr. Pitt, and the sentiments which I found myself bound in duty to declare in reply to that communication. I take the liberty of lodging these papers in Yoiu- Majes- ty's hands, confiding that, whenever it shall please Providence to remove the malady with which the King my father is now unhappily afflicted. Your Majesty will, in justice to me and to those of the Royal family whose affectionate concurrence and support I have received, take the earliest opportunity of submitting them to his Royal perusal, in order that no interval of time may elapse before he is in possession of the true matives and principles upon which I have acted. I here solemnly repeat to Your Majesty, that among those principles there is not one which influences my mind so much as the firm persuasion I have, that my conduct in endea- voring to maintain unimpaired and undivided the just rights, preroga- tives, and dignity of the Crown, in the person of the King's representative, is the only line of conduct which would entitle me to His Majesty's appro- bation, or enable me to stand with confidence in his Royal presence on the * This vain hope was expressed before the late decision on the Catholic question had proved to the Irish that, where their rights are concerned, neither public nor private pledges are regarded. VOL. II. ^* 82 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE jiappy day of his recovery ; — and, on the contrary, that those ^Yho, undei color of respect and attachment to his Royal person, have contrived this project for enfeebling and degrading the executive authority of the realm, will be considered by him as having risked the happiness of his people and the security of the throne itself, by establishing a fatal precedent which may hereafter be urged against his own authority, on as plausible pretences, or revived against the just rights of his fi^raily. In speaking my opinions of the motive of the projectors of this scheme, I trust I need not assure Your Majesty that the respect, duty, and affection I owe to Your Majesty have never suffered me for a single moment to consider you as countenancing, in the slightest degree, their plan or their purposes. I have the firmest reliance on Your Majesty's early declaration to me, on the subject of public affairs, at the commencement of our common calami- ty : and, whatever may be the efforts of evil or interested advisers, I have the same confidence that you will never permit or endure that the influ- ence of your respected name shall be profaned to the purpose of distress- ing the government and insulting the person of your son. How far those, who are evidently pursuing both these objects, may be encouraged by Your Majesty's acceptance of one part of the powers purposed to be lodged in your hands, I will not presume to say.* The proposition has assumed the shape of a Resolution of Parliament, and therefore I am silent. '' Your Majesty will do me the honor to weigh the opinions I formed and declared before Parliament had entertained the plan, and, with those before you, your own good judgment will decide. I have only to add that whatever that decision may be, nothing will ever alter the interest of true aflfection and inviolable duty," &c. &c. The second Letter that I shall give, from the rough copy of Mr. Sheridan, was addressed by the Prince to the King after his recovery, announcing the intention of His Royal Highness to sub- mit to His Majesty a Memorial, in vindication of his own conduct and that of his Royal brother the Duke of York throughout the whole of the proceedings consequent upon His Majesty's indispo- sition. * In speaking of the extraordinary imperium in imperio^ with which the command of 80 much power and patronage would have invested the Queen, the Annual Register (Robinson's) remarks justly, "It was not the least extraordinary circumstance in these transactions, that the Queen could be prevailed upon to lend her name to a project which would eventually have placed her in avowed rivalship with her son, and, at a moment when her attention might seem to be absorbfrl by domestic calamity, have established her at thd head of a political party." EIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 83 "Sm, " Thinking it probable that I should have been honored with your com- mands to attend Your Majesty on Wednesday last, I have unfortunately lost the opportunity of paying my duty to Your Majesty before your de- parture from Weymouth. . The accounts I have received of Your Majesty^s health have given me the greatest satisfaction, and should it be Your Ma- jesty's intention to return to Weymouth, I trust, Sir, there will be no im- propriety in my ^/?e7i entreating Your Majesty's gracious attention to a point of the greatest moment to the peace of my own mind, and one in which I am convinced Your Majesty's feelings are equally interested. Your Ma- jesty's letter to my brother the Duke of Clarence, in May last, was the first direct intimation I had ever received that my conduct and that of my bro- ther the Duke of York, during Your Majesty's late lamented illness, had brought on us the heavy misfortune of Your Majesty's displeasure. I should be wholly unworthy the return of Your Majesty's confidence and good opinion, which will ever be the first objects of my life, if I could have read the passage I refer to in that letter without the deepest sorrow and regret for the effect produced on Your Majesty's mind ; though at the same time I felt the firmest persuasion that Your Majesty's generosity and goodness would never permit that effect to remain, without affording us an opportunity of knowing what had been urged against us, of replying to our accusers, and of justifying ourselves, if the means of justification were in our power. '' Great however as my impatience and anxiety were on this subject, I felt it a superior consideration not to intrude any unpleasing or agitating discussions upon Your Majesty's attention, during an excursion devoted to the ease and amusement necessary for the re-establishment of Your Majesty's health. I determined to sacrifice my own feelings, and to wait with resig- nation till the fortunate opportunity should arrive, when Your Majesty's own paternal goodness would, I was convinced, lead you even to invite your sons to that fair hearing, which your justice would not deny to the mean- est individual of your subjects. In this painful interval I have employed my- self in drawing up a full statement and account of my conduct during the period alluded to, and of the motives and circumstances which influenced me. Wnen these shall be humbly submitted to Your Majesty's considera- tion, I may be possibly found to have erred in judgment, and to have acted on mistaken principles, but I have the most assured conviction that I shall not be found to have been deficient in that duteous affection to Your Ma- jesty which nothing shall ever diminish. Anxious for every thing that may contribute to the comfort and satisfaction of Your Majesty's mind, I cannot omit this opportunity of lamenting those appearances of a less gracious disposition in the Queen, towards my brothers and myself, than we were accustomed to experience ; and to assure Your Majesty that if 84 MEMOIRS OF THP] LIFE OF THE by your affectionate interposition these most unpleasant sensations &nould be happily removed, it would be an event not less grateful to our minds than satisfactory to Your Majesty's own benign disposition. I will not long- er, &c. &c. ^- G. P.'' The Statement here announced by His Royal Highness (a copy of which I have seen, occupying, with its Appendix, near a hun- dred folio pages), is supposed to have been drawn up by Lord Minto. To descend from documents of such high import to one of a much humbler nature, the following curious memorial was pre- sented this year to Mr. Sheridan, by a literary gentleman whom the Whig party thought it worth while to employ in their ser- vice, and who, as far as industry went, appears to have been not un- worthy of his hire. Simonides is said to be the first author that ever wTote for pay, but Simonides little dreamt qf the perfection to which his craft would one day be brought. Memorial for Dr. W, 2\* Fitzroy-streety Fitzroy-Ohapel. " In May, 1787, Dr. Parr, in the name of his political friends, engaged Dr. T. to embrace those opportunities, which his connections with booksel- lers and periodical publications might afford him, of supporting the prin- ciples of their party, Mr. Sheridan in August, 1787, gave two notes, 50/. each, to Dr. T. for the first year's service, which notes were paid at different periods — the first by Mr. Sheridan at Brookes's, in January, 1788, the second by Mr. Windham in May, 1788. Mr. Sheridan, in different conversations encouraged Dr. T. to go on with the expectation of a like sum yearly, or 50Z. half yearly. Dr. T. with this encouragement engaged in different pub- lications for the purpose of this agreement. He is charged for the most part with the Political and Historical articles in the Analytic Review, and he also occasionally writes the Political Appendix to the English Review, of which particularly he wrote that for April last, and that for June last. He also every week writes an abridgment of Politics for the Whitehall Evening Post, and a Political Review every month for a Sunday paper en- titled the Review and Sunday Advertiser. In a Romance, entitled ' Mam- * This industrious Scotchman (of whose name I have only given the initials) was not without some share of humor. On hearing that a certain modern philosopher had carried his belief in the perfectibility of all living things so far, as to say that he did not despair of seeing the day when tigers themselves might be educated, Dr. T. exclaimed, " I should like dearly to see him in a cage wiUi tnva of his pupils 1" EIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 85 moth, or Human Nature Displayed, &c.,' Dr. T. has shown how mindful he is on all occasions of his engagements to those who confide in him. He has also occasionally moved other engines, which it would be tedious and might appear too trifling to mention. Dr. T. is not ignorant that uncommon char- ges have happened in the course of this last year, that is, the year prece- ding May, 1789. Instead of 100/., therefore, he will be satisfied with 50/. for that year, provided that this abatement shall not form a precedent against his claim of 100/. annually, if his further services shall be deemed acceptable. There is one point on which Dr. T. particularly reserved him- self, namely, to make no attack on Mr. Hastings, and this will be attested by Dr. Parr, Mr. Sheridan, and, if the Doctor rightly recollects, by Mr. Windham. " Fitzroy-street, 2lst July, 1789." Taking into account all the various circumstances that con- curred to glorify this period of Sheridan's life, we may allow our- selves, I think, to pause upon it as the apex of the pyramid, and, whether we consider his fame, his talents, or his happiness, may safely say, " Here is their highest point." The new splendor which his recent triumphs in eloquence had added to a reputation already so illustrious, — the power which he seemed to have acquired over the future destinies of the country, by his acknowledged influence in the councils of the Heir Appa- rent, and the tribute paid to him, by the avowal both of friends and foes, that he had used this influence in the late trying crisis of the Regency, with a judgment and delicacy that proved him worthy of it, — all these advantages, both brilliant and solid, which subsequent circumstances but too much tended to weaken, at this moment surrounded him in their newest lustre and promise. He was just now, too, in the first enjoyment of a feeling, of which habit must have aflerwards dulled the zest, namely, the proud consciousness of having surmounted the disadvantages of birth and station, and placed himself on a level with the highest and noblest of the land. This footing in the society of the great he could only have attained by parliamentary eminence ;- — as a mere writer, \vith all his genius, he never would have been thus admitted ad eundem among them. Talents, in literature or sci- ence, unassisted by the advantages of birth, may lead to associa- 86 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE tion with the great, but rarely to equality ; — it is a passport through the well-guarded frontier, but no title to naturalization within. By him, who has not been born among them, this can only be achieved by politics. In that arena, which they look upon as their own, the Legislature of the land, let a man of genius, like Sheridan, but assert his supremacy, — at once all these barriers of reserve and pride give way, and he takes, by storm, a station at their side, which a Shakspeare or a Newton would but havi> enjoyed by courtesy. In fixing upon this period of Sheridan's life, as the most shin- ino: asra of his talents as well as his fame, it is not meant to be denied that in his subsequent warfare with the Minister, during the stormy time of the French Revolution, he exhibited a prow- ess of oratory no less suited to that actual service, than his elo- quence on the trial of Hastings had been to such lighter tilts and tournaments of peace. But the effect of his talents was far less striking ; — the current of feeling through England was against him ; — and, however greatly this added to the merit of his efforts, it deprived him of that echo from the public heart, by which the voice of the orator is endued with a sort of multiplied life, and, as it were, survives itself. In the panic, too, that followed the French Revolution, all eloquence, but that from the lips of Power, was disregarded, and the voice of him at the helm was the only one listened to in the storm. Of his happiness, at the period of which we are speaking, in the midst of so much success and hope, there can be but little doubt. Though pecuniary embarrassment, as appears from his papers, had already begun to weave its fatal net around him, there was as yet little more than sufficed to give exercise to his ingenuity, and the resources of the Drury-Lane treasury were still in full nightly flow. The charms, by which his home was embellished, were such as few other homes could boast ; and, if any thing made it less happy than it ought to be, the cause was to be found in the very brilliancy of his life and attractions, and in those triumphs out of the sphere of domestic love, to which his vanity, perhaps, oftener than his feelings, impelled him. EIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 87 Among his own inc: mediate associates, the gaiety of his spirits amounted almost to boyishness. He deh'ghted in all sorts of dramatic tricks and disguises ; and the lively parties, with which his country-house was always filled, were kept in momentary ex- pectation of some new device for their mystification or amuse- ment.* It was not unusual to dispatch a man and horse seven or eight miles for a piece of crape or a mask, or some other such trifle for these frolics. His friends Tickell and Richardson, both men of wit and humor, and the former possessing the same degree of light animal spirits as himself, were the constant com- panions of all his social hours, and kept up with him that ready rebound of pleasantry, without which the play of wit languishes. There is a letter, written one night by Richardson at Tun- bridge,! (after waiting five long hours for Sheridan,) so full of that mixture of melancholy and humor, which chequered the mind of this interesting man, that, as illustrative of the character of one of Sheridan's most intimate friends, it may be inserted here : — " Dear Sheridan, Half-past nine, Mount Ephraim. " After you had been gone an hour or two I got moped damnably. Per- haps there is a sympathy between the corporeal and the mind's eye. In the Temple I can't see far before me, and seldom extend my speculations on things to come into any fatiguing sketch of reflection. — From your win- * To give some idea of the youthful tone of this society, I shall mention one out of many anecdotes related to me by persons who had themselves been ornaments of it. The la- dies having one evening received the gentlemen in masquerade dresses, which, with their obstinate silence, made it impossible to distinguish one from the other, the gentlem.en, in Iheir turn, invited the ladies, next evening, to a similar trial of conjecture on themselves ; and notice being given that they were ready dressed, Mrs. Sheridan and her companions were admitted into the dining room, where they found a parly of Turks, sitting silent and masked round the table. After a long course of the usual guesses, exclamations, &c. &c., and each lady having taken the arm of the person she was most sure of, they heard a burst of laughter through the half-open door, and looking there, saw the gentle- men themselves in their proper persons, — the masks, upon whom they had been lavishing their sagacity, being no other than the maid-servants of the house, who had been thus dressed up to deceive them. I In the year 1790, when Mrs. Sheridan was trying the waters of Tunbridge for her health. In a letter to Sheridan's sister from this place, dated September, 1790, she says, " I drink the waters once a da}'-, and ride and drive all the forenoon, which makes mo ravenous when I return. I feel I am in very good health, and I am told that I am in high l^eauty, two circumstances which ought and do put me in high good humor," 88 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE dow, however, there was a tedious scope of black atmosphere, that I think won my mind into a sort of fellow-travellership, pacing me again through the cheerless waste of the past, and presenting hardly one little rarified cloud to give a dim ornament to the future ; — not a star to be seen ; — no permanent light to gild my horizon ; — only the fading helps to transient gaiety in the lamps of Tunbridge ; — no Law coffee-house at hand, or any other house of relief ; — no antagonist to bicker one into a control of one's cares by a successful opposition,* nor a softer enemy to soothe one into an oblivion of them. '' It is damned foolish for ladies to leave their scissors about ; — the frail thread of a worthless life is soon snipped. I wish to God my fate had been true to its first destination, and made a parson of me ; — I should have made an excellent country Joll. I think I can, with confidence, pronounce the character that would have been given of me : — He was an indolent good-humored man, civil at all times, and hospitable at others, namely, when he was able to be so, which, truth to say, happened but seldom. His sermons were better than his preaching, and his doctrine better than his life ; though often grave, and sometimes melancholy, he nevertheless loved a joke, — the more so when overtaken in his cups, which, a regard to the faith of history compels us to subjoin, fell out not unfrequently. He had more thought than was generally imputed to him, though it must be ov/ned no man olive ever exercised thought to so little purpose. Rebecca, his v;ife, the daughter of an opulent farmer in the neighborhood of his small living, brought him eighteen children ; and he now rests with those who, being rather not absolutely vicious than actively good, confide in the bounty of Providence to strike a mild average between the contending ne- gations of their life, and to allow them in their future state, what he or- * Richardson was remarkable for his love of disputation ; and Tickell, when hard pressed by him in argument, used often, as a last resource, to assume the voice and manner of Mr. Fox, which he had the power of mimicking so exactly, that Richardson confessed he sometimes stood awed and silenced by the resem.blance. This disputatious humor of Richardson was once turned to account by Sheridan in a very characteristic manner. Having had a hackney-coach in employ for five or six hours, and not being provided with the means of paying it, he happened to espy Richard- son in the street, and proposed to take him in the coach some part of his way. Tlie offer being accepted, Sheridan lost no time in starting a subject of conversation, on which he knew his companion was sure to become argumentative and animated. Having, by well-managed contradiction, brought him to the proper pitch of excitement, he affected to grow impatient and angry, himself, and saying that "he could not think of staying in the same coach with a person that would use such language," pulled the check-string, and desired the coachman to Jet him out. Ricliardson, wholly occupied with the argu- ment, and regarding the retreat of his opponent as an acknowledgment of defeat, slill pressed his point, and even hollowed " more last words" through the coach-window after Sheridan, who, walking quietly home, left the poor disputant responsible for the hea\7 mre of the coach, RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 89 daiued them in this earthly pilgrimage, a snug neutrality and a useless re- pose. — I had written thus far, absolutely determined, under an irresistible influence of the megrims, to set off for London on foot, when, accidentally searching for a cardialgic, to my great delight, I discovered three fugitive sixpences, headed by a vagrant shilling, immergedin the heap in my waist- coat pocket. This discovery gave an immediate elasticity to my mind ; and I have therefore devised a scheme, worthier the improved state of my spirits, namely, to swindle your servants out of a horse, under the pretence of a ride upon the heath, and to jog on contentedly homewards. So, un- der the protection of Providence, and the mercy of footpads, I trust we shall meet again to-morrow ; at all events, there is nothing huffish in this ; for, whether sad or merry, I am always, " Most affectionately yours, "J. Richardson. *• P. S. Your return only confirmed me in my resolution of going ; for I had worked myself, in five hours solitude, into such a state of nervous mel- ancholy, that I found I could not help the meanness of crying, even if any one looked me in the face. I am anxious to avoid a regular conviction of so disreputable an infirmity ;— besides, the night has become quite plea- sant." Between Tickell and Sheridan there was a never-ending " skir- mish of wit," both verbal and practical ; and the latter kind, in particular, was carried on between them with all the waggery, and, not unfrequently, the malice of school-boys.* Tickell, much less occupied by business than his friend, had always some poli- tical ^ez^a; d' esprit on the anvil ; and sometimes these trifles were produced by them jointly. The following string of pasquinades so well known in political circles, and written, as the reader will perceive, at different dates, though principally by Sheridan, owes some of its stanzas to Tickell, and a few others, I believe, to Lord John Townshend. I have strung together, without regard to * On one occasion, Sheridan having covered the floor of a dark passage, leading from the drawing room, with all the plates and dishes of the house, ranged closely together, provoked his unconscious play-fellow to pursue him into the midst of them. Ha\'ingleft a path for his own escape, he passed through easily, but Tickell, railing at full length into me ambuscade, was very much cut in several places. The next day. Lord John Towns- hend, on paying a visit to the bed-side of Tickell, found him covered over with patches, and indignantly vowing vengeance against Sheridan for this unjustifiable trick. In the midst of his anger, however, he could not help exclaiming, with the true iQ"ii\n^ of aa am.uteur of this sort of mischief, " but how amazingly well done it was 1" 90 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE chronology, the best of these detached lampoons. Time having removed their venom, and with it, in a great degree, their wit, they are now, like dried snakes, mere harmless objects of curi- osity. " Johnny W— Iks, Johnny W— Iks,* Thou greatest of bilks, How chang'd are the notes you now sing 1 Your fam'd Forty-five Is Prerogative, And your blasphemy, ' God vsave the Kis£,^ Johnny W — ±s, And your blasphemy, ' God save the King.' '* "JackCh -ch— 11, Jack Ch— ch— 11, The town sure you search ill. Your mob has disgraced all your brags j When next you draw out Your hospital rout, Do, prithee, afford them clean rags, Jack Ch— ch— 11, Do, prithee, afford them clean rags." " Captain K — th. Captain K — th. Keep your tongue 'twixt your teeth, Lest bed-chamber tricks you betray ; And, if teeth you want more, Why, my bold Commodore, — You may borrow of Lord G — 11 — y, Captain K — th, You may borrow of Lord G — 11 — y." " t Joe M— wb — y, Joe M — wb — y. Your throat sure must raw be. In striving to make yourself heard ; But it pleased not the pigs. Nor the Westminster Whigs, That your Knighthood should utter one word, Joe M — wb — y. That your Knighthood should utter one word." * In Sheridan's copy of the stanzas written by him in this metre at the time of the Union, (beginning " Zooks, Harry! zooks, Harry !" he entitled them, ''An adrairai)l« new ballad, which goes excellently well to the tune of "Mrs.Arne, Mrs. Arne, It gives me concaTTi," &c. t This stanza and, I rather think, the next were by Lord John Townshend. BIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 91 % ^' M — ntm — res, M — ntm — res, Whom nobody for is, And for whom we none of us care ; From Dublin you came — It had much been the same If your Lordship had staid where you were, M — ntm— res, If your Lordship had staid where you were.'^ " Lord — gl — y, Lord — gl — y. You spoke mighty strongly — Who you are^ tho', all people admire ! But 1^11 let you depart, For I believe in my heart, You had rather they did not inquire, Lord 0— gl— y, You had rather they did not inqure." <^ Gl— nb— e, Gl— nb— e. What's good for the scurvy ? For ne'er be your old trade forgot — In your arms rather quarter A pestle and mortar, And your crest be a spruce gallipot, Gl_nb— e. And your crest be a spruce gallipof ^^ Gl— nb— e, Gl— nb— e. The world's topsy-turvy, Of this truth you're the fittest attester ; For, who can deny That the Low become High, When the King makes a Lord of Silvester, Gl— nl>— e, When the King makes a Lord of Silvester.'' ^'Mr. P— 1, Mr. P— 1, In return for your zeal, I am told they have dubb'd you Sir Bob ; Having got wealth enough By coarse Manchester stufi". For honors you'll now drive a job, Mr. P— 1, For honors you'll now drive a job.'* 92 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THl " Oh poor B — ks, oh poor B — ks, Still condemned to the ranks, Nor e'en yet from a private promoted ; Pitt ne'er will relent, Though he knows you repent, ; Having once or twice honestly voted, Poor B — ks, Having once or twice honestly voted." " Dull H— 1— y, dull H— 1— y, Your audience feel ye A speaker of very great weight. And they wish you were dumb. When, with ponderous hum. You lengthened the drowsy debate. Dull H— 1— y, You lengthened the drowsy debate." There are about as many more of these stanzas, written at different intervals, according as new victims, w^ith good names for rhyming, presented themselves, — the metre being a most temptmg medium for such lampoons. There is, indeed, appended to one of Sheridan's copies of them, a long list (like a Tablet of Proscription), containing about fifteen other names marked out for the same fate; and it will be seen by the following specimen that some of them had a very narrow escape : ^^WillC— rt— s " <^y_ns— t— t, Y_ns— t— t — for little thou fit art." " Will D — nd — s, Will D — nd — s, — were you only an ass." " L — ghb — ^h, — thorough." ^' Sam H — rsl — y, Sam H — ^rsl — y, coarsely." '• P — ttym — n- P — ttym — n, — speak truth, if you can." But it was not alone for such lively purposes* that Sheridan and his two friends drew upon their joint wits ; they had also but * As I have been luenlioning some instances of Sheridan's love of practical jests, I shall take ihis opportunity of adding one more anecdote, which I believe is pretty well known, but which I have had the advantage of hearing from the person on whom the joke was inflicted. The Rev^Mr.O'B (afterwards Bishop of ■) having arrived to dinner at Sheridan's country-house, near Osterley, where, as usual, a gay party was collected. RIGHT HOK. RICHARD BRIKSLEY SHERIDAN. 93 too much to do with subjects of a far different nature — with debts, bonds, judgments, writs, and all those other humiliating matters of fact, that bring Law and Wit so often and so unnaturally in contact. That they were serviceable to each other, in their de- fensive alliance against duns, is fully proved by various docu- ments ; and I have now before me artides of agreement, dated in 1787, by which Tickell, to avert an execution from the Theatre, bound himself as security for Sheridan in the sum of 250^., — the arrears of an annuity charged upon Sheridan's moiety of the property. So soon did those pecuniary difficulties, by which his peace and character were afterwards undermined, begin their operations. Yet even into transactions of this nature, little as they are akin to mirth, the following letter of Richardson will show that these brother wits contrived to infuse a portion of gaiety : " Dear Sheridan, Essex-Street^ Saturday evening, *' I had a terrible long batch with Bobby this morning, after I wrote to you by Francois. I have so far succeeded that he has agreed to continue the day of trial as we call it (that is, in vulgar, unlearned language, to put it off) from Tuesday till Saturday. He demands, as preliminaries, that Wright's bill of 500/. should be given up to him, as a prosecution had been (consisting of General Burgoyne, Mrs. Crewe, Tickell, &c.) it was proposed that on the next day (Sunday) the Rev. Gentleman should, on gaining the consent of the resident clergyman, give a specimen of his talents as a preacher in the village church. On his objecting that he was not provided with a sermon, his host offered to write one for him, if he would consent to preach it ; and, the offer being accepted, Sheridan left the com- pany early, and did not return for the remainder of the evening. The following morning Mr. O'B found the manuscript by his bed-side, tied together neatly (as he described it) with riband ; — the subject of the discourse being the "Abuse of Riches." Having read it over and corrected some theological errors, (such as *'it is easier for a camel, OjS Moses says," &c.) he delivered the sermon in his most impressive style, much to the de- light of his own party, and to the satisfaction, as he unsuspectingly flattered himself, of all the rest of the congregation, among whom was Mr. Sheridan's wealthy neighbor Mr. C . Some months afterwards, however, Mr. O'B perceived that the family of Mr. C , with whom he had previously been intimate, treated him with marked coldness ; and, on his expressing some innocent wonder at the circumstance, was at length informed, to his dismay, by General Burgoyne, that the sermon which Sheridan had written for him was, throughout, a personal attack upon Mr. C , who had at that time rendered himself very unpopular in the neighborhood by some harsh conduct to the poor, and to whom every one in the church, except the unconscious preacher, applied almost every sentence of the sermon . ^4 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE commenced against him, which, however, he has stopped by an injunction from the Court of Chancery. This, if the transaction be as he states it, ap pears reasonable enough. He insists, besides, that the bill should undergo the most rigid examination ; that you should transmit your objections, to which he will send answers, (for the point of a personal interview has not been yet carried.) and that the whole amount at last, whatevjsr it may be, should have your clear and satisfied approbation : — nothing to be done with- out this — almighty honor ! '" All these things being done, I desired to know what was to be the re- sult at last : — ' Surely, after having carried so many points, you will think it only common decency to relax a little as to the time of payment ? You will not cut your pound of flesh the nearest from the merchant's heart V To this Bobides, ' I must have 2000/. put in a shape of practicable use, and payment immediately ; — for the rest I will accept security.' This was strongly objected to by me, as Jewish in the extreme ; but, however, so we parted. You will think with me, I hope, that something has been done, however, by this meeting. It has opened an access to a favorable adjust- ment, and time and trist may do much. I am to see him again on Monday morning at two, so pray don't go out of town to-morrow without my seeing you. The matter is of immense consequence. I never knew till to-day that the process had been going on so long. I am convinced he could force you to trial next Tuesday with all your infirmities green upon your head ; so pray attend to it. " B. B. Sheridan, Esq. *' Yours ever, '' Lower Grosvenor-Street " J. Richardson." This letter was written in the year 1792, when Sheridan's in- volvements bad begun to thicken around him more rapidly. Tliere is another letter, about the same date, still more charac teristic, — where, after beginning in evident anger and distress of mind, the writer breaks off, as if irresistibly, into the old strain oj playfulness and good humor. " Dear Sheridan, Wednesday, Essex-Street, July 30. " I write to you with more unpleasant feelings than I ever did in my IIL . Westly, after having told me for the last three weeks that nothing w*.*^ wanting for my accommodation but your consent, having told me so, so late as Friday, sends me word on Monday that he would not do it at all. In four days I have a cognovit expires for 200Z. I can't suffer my family to be turn- ed into the streets if I can help it. I have no resource but my abilities, such as they are. I certainly mean to write something in the course of the summer. As a matter of business and bargain I can have no higher hope BIGHT HON. KICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 95 about it than that you won't suffer by it. However, if you won't take it somebody else must, for no human consideration will induce me to leave any means untried, that may rescue my family from this impending misfor tune. ^' For the sake of convenience you will probably give me the importance of construing this into an incendiary letter. I wish to God you may, and order your treasurer to deposit the acceptance accordingly ; for nothing can be so irksome to me as that the nations of the earth should think there had been any interruption of friendship between you and me ; and though that would not be the case in fact, both being influenced, I must believe, ^by a necessity which we could not control, yet the said nations would so in- terpret it. If I don't hear from you before Friday, I shall conclude that you leave me in this dire scrape to shift for myself. '^ R, B. Sheridan, Esq. " Yours ever, ** hleworth, Middlesex, " J. Richardson. ^^ 9fi MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE CHAPTER lY. FllENCH REVOLUTION. — MR. BURKE. — HIS BREACH WITH MR. SHERIDAN. — DISSOLUTION OF PARLIAMENT. — MR. BURKE AND MR. FOX. — RUSSIAN ARMAMENT. — ROYAL SCOTCH BOROUGHS. We have now to consider the conduct and opinions of Mr. Sheridan, during the measures and discussions consequent upon the French Revolution, — an event, by which the minds of men throughout all Europe were thrown into a state of such feverish excitement, that a more than usual degree of tolerance should be exercised towards the errors and extremes into which all par ties were hurried during the paroxysm. There was, indeed, no rank or class of society, whose interests and passions were not deeply involved in the question. The powerful and the rich, both of State and Church, must naturally have regarded with dismay the advance of a political heresy, whose path they saw strewed over with the broken talismans of rank and authority. Many, too, with a disinterested reverence for ancient institutions, trembled to see them thus approached by rash hands, whose tal- ents for rum were sufficiently certain, but whose powers of re- construction were yet to be tried. On the other hand, the easy triumph of a people over their oppressors was an example which could not fail to excite the hopes of the many as actively as the fears of the few. The great problem of the natural rights of mankind seemed about to be solved in a manner most flattering to the majority ; the zeal of the lover of liberty was kindled into enthusiasm, by a conquest achieved for his cause upon an arena so vast; and many, who before would have smiled at the ^octriDQ of human perfectibility, now imagined they saw, in niGHT HOIST. RICHARD :gRTNSLfiY SHERIDAN. 97 what the Revolution performed and promised, almost enough to sanction the indulgence of that splendid dream. It was natural, too, that the greater portion of that unemployed, and, as it were, homeless talent, which, in all great communities, is ever abroad on the wing, uncertain where to settle, should now swarm round the light of the new principles, — while all those obscure but ambitious spirits, who felt their aspirmgs clogged by the medium in which they were sunk, would as naturally welcome such a state of political effervescence, as might enable them, like enfran- chised air, to mount at once to the surface. Amidst all these various interests, imaginations, and fears, which were brought to life by the dawn of the French Revolu- tion, it is not surprising that errors and excesses, both of con- duct and opmion, should be among the first products of so new and sudden a movement of the whole civilized world ; — that the friends of popular rights, presuming upon the triumph that had been gained, should, in the ardor of pursuit, push on the van- guard of their principles, somewhat farther than was consistent with prudence and safety ; or that, on the other side, Authority and its supporters, alarmed by the inroads of the Revolutionary spirit, should but the more stubbornly intrench themselves in established abuses, and make the dangers they apprehended from liberty a pretext for assailing its very existence. It was not long before these effects of the French Revolution began to show themselves very strikingly in the politics of Eng- land ; and, singularly enough, the two extreme opinions, to which, as I have just remarked, that disturbing event gave rise, instead of first appearing, as might naturally be expected, the one on the side of Government, and the other on that of the Opposition, both broke out simultaneously in the very heart of the latter body. On such an imagination as that of Burke, the scenes now pass- ing in France were every way calculated to make a most vivid impression. So susceptible was he, indeed, of such impulses, and so much under the control of the imaginative department of his intellect, that, whatever might have been the accidental mood VOL. n. 5 98 MEMOIHS OF THE LIFE OF THE of hit> mind, at the moment when this astounding event first burst upon him, it would most probably have acted as a sort of mental catalepsy, and fixed his reason in the very attitude in which it found it. He had, however, been prepared for the part which he now took by much more deep and grounded causes. It was rather from circumstances than from choice, or any natural affinity, that Mr. Burke had ever attached himself to the popular party in politics. There was, in truth, nothing democratic about him but his origin; — his tastes were all on the side of the splen- did and the arbitrary. The chief recommendation of the cause of India to his fancy and his feelings was that it involved the fate of ancient dynasties, and invoked retribution for the downfall of thrones and princedoms, to which his imagination, always most affected by objects at a distance, lent a state and splendor that did not, in sober reality, belong to them. Though doomed to make Whiggism his habitual haunt, he took his perch at all times on its loftiest branches, as far as possible away from popu- lar contact ; and, upon most occasions, adopted a sort of baro- nial view of liberty, as rather a question lying between the Throne and the Aristocracy, than one in v/hich the people had a right to any efficient voice or agency. Accordingly, the question of Parliamentary Reform, from the first moment of its agitation, found in him a most decided opponent. This inherent repugnance to popular principles became natu- rally heightened into impatience and disgust, by the long and fruitless warfare which he had waged under their banner, and the uniform ill success v\^ith which they had blasted all his strug- gles for wealth and power. Nor was he in any better temper with his associates in the cause, — having found that the ascen- dancy, which he had formerly exercised over them, and which, in some degree, consoled him for the want of official dominion, was of late considerably diminished, if not wholly transferred to others. Sheridan, as has been stated, was the most promi- nent object of his jealousy ; — and it is curious to remark how much, even in feelings of this description, the aristocratical biaf of his mind betrayed itself For, though Mr. Fox, too, had ' RIGHT HON. RICHARD BKi:?fSLEY SHERIDAK. 99 overtaken and even passed him in the race, assuming that station in politics which he himself had previously held, yet so para- mount did those claims of birth and connection, by which the new leader came recommended, appear in his eyes, that he submitted to be superseded by him, not only without a murmur, but cheer fully. To Sheridan, however, who had no such hereditary pass- port to pre-eminence, he could not give way without heart-burn- ing and humiliation ; and to be supplanted thus by a rival son of earth seemed no less a shock to his superstitious notions about rank, than it was painful to his feelings of self love and pride. Such, as far as can be ascertained by a distant observer of those times, was the temper in which the first events of the Re volution found the mind of this remarkably man ; — and, power fully as they would, at any time, have appealed to his imagination and prejudices, the state of irritability to which he had been wTOught by the causes already enumerated peculiarly predis- posed him, at this moment, to give way to such impressions without restraint, and even to welcome as a timely relief to his pride, the mighty vent thus afforded to the " splendida hilis''' with which it was charged. There was indeed much to animate and give a zest to the new part which he now took. He saw those principles, to which he owed a deep grudge, for the time and the talents he had wasted in their service, now embodied in a shape so wild an^ alarm- ing, as seemed to justify him, on grounds of public safety, in turning against them the whole powers of his mind, and thus enabled him, opportunely, to dignify desertion, by throw- ing the semblance of patriotism and conscientiousness round the reality of defection and revenge. He saw the party, too, who, from the moment they had ceased to be ruled by him, were associated only in his mJnd with recollections of unpopu- larity and defeat, about to adopt a line of politics which his long knowledge of the people of England, and his sagacious foresight of the consequences of the French Revolution, fully convinced him would lead to the same barren and mortifying results. On 100 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE tne contrary, the cause to which he proffered his alliance, would, he was equally sure, by arraying on its side all the rank, riches, and religion of Europe, enable him at length to feel that sense of power and triumph, for which his domineering spirit had so long panted in vain. In this latter hope, indeed, of a speedy triumph over Jacobinism, his temperament, as was often the case, outran his sagacity ; for, while he foresaw clearly that the dissolution of social order in France would at last harden into a military tyranny, he appeared not to be aware that the violent measures which he recommended against her would not only hasten this formidable result, but bind the whole mass of the people into union and resistance during the process. Lastly — To these attractions, of various kinds, with which the cause of Thrones was now encircled in the eyes of Burke, must be added one, which, however it may still further disenchant our views of his conversion, cannot wholly be omitted among the in- ducements to his change, — and this was the strong claim upon the gratitude of government, which his seasonable and powerful advo- cacy in a crisis so difficult established for him, and which the nar- row and embarrassed state of his circumstances rendered an ob- ject by no means of secondary importance in his views. Unfor- tunately, — from a delicate wish, perhaps, that the reward should not appear to come in too close coincidence with the service, — the pension bestowed upon him arrived too late to admit of his deriv- ing much more from it than the obloquy by which it was accom- panied. The consequence, as is well known, of the new course taken by Burke was that the speeches and writings which he henceforward produced, and in which, as usual, his judgment was run away with by his temper, form a complete contrast, in spirit and tendency, to all that he had put on record in the former part of his life. He has, indeed, left behind him t\>»o separate and distinct armo- ries of opinion, from which both Whig and Tory may furnish themselves with weapons, the most splendid, if not the most highly tempered, that ever Genius and Eloquence have conde- scended to bequeath to Party. He has thus too, by his own per- EIGHT HON. KICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 101 sonal versatility, attained, in the world of politics, what Shaks- peare, by the versatility of his characters, achieved for the world in general, — namely, such a universality of application to all opin- ions and purposes, that it would be difficult for any statesman of any party to find himself placed in any situation, for which he could not select some golden sentence from Burke, either to strengthen his position by reasoning or illustrate and adorn it by fancy. While, therefore, our respect for the man himself is diminished by this want of moral identity observable through his life and writings, we are but the more disposed to admire that unrivalled genius, which could thus throw itself out in so many various directions with equal splendor and vigor. In general, political deserters lose their value and power in the very act, and bring little more than their treason to the new cause which they espouse : — "Fortisin armis Ccesaris Labienus erat ; nunc transfuga vilis.^^ But Burlce was mighty in either camp ; and it would have taken two great men to effect what he, by this division of himself, achieved. His mind, indeed, lies parted asunder in his works, like some vast continent severed by a convulsion of nature, — each portion peopled by its own giant race of opinions, differing alto- gether in features and language, and committed in eternal hostil- ity with each other. It was during the discussions on the Army Estimates, at the commencement of the session of 1790, that the difference between Mr. BurKc and his party in their views of the French Revolution first manifested itself. Mr. Fox having taken occasion to praise the late conduct of the French Guards in refusing to obey the dic- tates of the Court, and having declared that he exulted, " both from feelings and from principles," in the political change that had been brought about in that country, Mr. Burke, in answering him, entered fully, and, it must be owned, most luminously into the question, — expressing his apprehension, lest the example of Fran 3e, which had, at a former period, threatened England with 102 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE the contagion of despotism, should now be the means of introdu- cing among her people the no less fatal taint of Democracy and Atheism. After son.e eloquent tributes of admiration to Mr, Fox, rendered more animated, perhaps, by the consciousness that they were the last offerings thrown into the open grave of their friendship, he proceeded to deprecate the effects which the lan- guage of his Eight Honorable Friend might have, in appearing to countenance the disposition observable among " some wicked per- sons" to " recommend an imitation of the French spirit of Re- form," and then added a declaration, equally remarkable for the insidious charge which it implied against his own party, and the notice of his approaching desertion which it conveyed to the other, — that " so strongly opposed was he to any the least tendency towards the means of introducing a democracy like that of the French, as well as to the end itself, that, much as it would afflict him, if Buch a thing should be attempted, and that any friend of ?iis could concur in such measures (he was far, very far, from be- lieving they could), he would abandon his best friends, and join with his worst enemies to oppose either the means or the end." It is pretty evident, from these words, that Burke had already made up his mind as to the course he should j^ursue, and but de- layed his declaration of a total breach, in order to prepare the minds of the public for such an event, and, by waiting to take advantage of some moment of provocation, make the intempe- rance of others responsible for his own deliberate schism. Tlie reply of Mr. Fox was not such as could afford this opportunity ; — it was, on the contrary, full of candor and moderation, and re- pelled the implied charge of being a favorer of the new doctrines of France in the most decided, but, at the same time, most con- ciliatory terms. *'Did such a declaration/' he asked, "warrant the idea that he was a friend to Democracy ? He declared himself equally the enemy of all ab- solute forms of government, whether an absolute Monarchy, an absolute .Aristocracy, or an absolute Democracy. Ho was ad^^erse to all extremes., and a friend only to a mixed government like our own, in which, if the 4ris ocracy, or indeed either of the three branches of the Constitution were RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 103 destroyed, the good effect of the whole, and the happiness derived under it would, in his mind, be at an end." In returning, too, the praises bestowed upon him by his friend, he made the following memorable and noble acknowledgment of all that he liimself had gained by their intercourse : — '' Such (he said) was his sense of the judgment of his Right Honorable Friend, such his knowledge of his principles, such the value which he set upon them, and such the estimation in which he held hlsfriendyhip, that if he were to put all the political information which he had learned from books all which he had gained from science, and all which any knowledge of the world and its affairs had taught him, into one scale, and the improvement which he had derived from his Right Honorable Friend's instruction and conversation were placed in the other, he should be at a loss to decide to which to give the preference.' ' This, from a person so rich in acquirements as Mr. Fox, was the very highest praise, — nor, except in what related co the judg- ment and principles of his friend, was it at all exaggerated. The conversation of Burke must have been like the procession of a Roman triumph, exhibiting power and riches at every step — oc- casionally, perhaps, mingling the low Fescennine jest with the lofty music of its march, but glittering all over with the spoils of the whole ransacked world. Mr. Burke, in reply, after reiterating his praises of Mr. Fox, and the full confidence which he felt in his moderation and sa2;a- city, professed himself perfectly satisfied with the explanations that had been given. The conversation would thus have passed off without any explosion, had not Sheridan, who was well aware that against him, in particular, the charge of a tendency to the adoption of French principles was directed, risen immediately after, and by a speech warmly in favor of the Revolution and of the National Assembly, at once lighted the train in the mind of Burke, and brought the question, as far as regarded themselves, to an immediate issue. ^' He differed," he said, '' decidedly, from his Right Honorable Friend in almost every word that he had uttered respecting the French Revolu 104 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE tion. He conceived it to be as just a Revolution as ours, proceeding upoL as sound a principle and as just a provocation. He vehemently defended the general views and conduct of the National Assembly. He could not even understand what was meant by the charges against them of having overturned the laws, the justice, and the revenues of their country. Yv hat were their laws ? the arbitrary mandates of capricious despotism. What their justice ? the partial adjudications of venal magistrates. What their revenues ? national bankruptcy. This he thought the fundamental error of his Right Honorable Friend's argument, that he accused the National Assembly of creating the evils, which they had found existing in full de- formity at the first hour of their meeting. The public creditor had been defrauded ; the manufacturer was without employ ; trade was languishing ; famine clung upon the poor ; despair on all. In this situation, the wisdom and feelings of the nation were appealed to by the government ; and was it to be wondered at by Englishmen, that a people, so circumstanced, should search for the cause and source of all their calamities, or that they should find them in the arbitrary constitution of their government, and in the pro- digal and corrupt administration of their revenues ? For such an evil when proved, what remedy could be resorted to, but a radical amendment of the frame and fabric of the Constitution itself? This change was not the object and wish of the National Assembly only; it was the claim and cry of all France, united as one man for one purpose.'' All this is just and imanswera"ble — as indeed was the greater part of the sentiments which he uttered. But he seems to have failed, even more signally than Mr. Fox, in endeavoring to in- validate the masterly view which Burke had just taken of the Revolution of 1688, as compared, in its means and object, with that of France. There was, in truth, but little similarity between them, — the task of the former being to preserve liberty, tnat of the latter to destroy tyranny ; the one being a regulated movement of the Aristocracy against the Throne for the Nation, the other a tumultuous rising of the whole Nation against both for itself The reply of Mr. Burke was conclusive and peremptory, — • such, in short, as might be expected from a person who came prepared to take the first plausible opportunity of a rupture. He declared that " henceforth, his Honorable Friend and he were separated in politics," — complained that his arguments had been cruelly misrepresented, and that " the Honorable Gentleman had EIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN 105 thought proper to charge him with being the advocate of des- potism.'' Having endeavored to defend himself from such an imputation, he concluded by saying, — " Was that a fair and candid mode of treating his arguments ? or was it what he ought to have expected in the mojnent of departed friendship i On the contrary, was it not evident that the Honorable Gentleman had made a sacrifice of his friendship, for the sake of catching some momentary popu- larity ? If the fact were such, even greatly as he should continue to admire the Honorable Gentleman's talents, he must tell him that his argument was chielly an argument ad invidiam, and all the applause for which he could hope from clubs was scarcely worth the sacrifice which he had chosen to make for so insignificant an acquisition."' I have given the circumstances of this Debate somewhat in detail, not only on account of its own interest and of the share which Mr. Sheridan took in it, but from its being the first scene of that great political schism, which in the following year as- sumed a still more serious aspect, and by which the policy of Mr. Pitt at length acquired a predominance, not speedily to be for- gotten in the annals of this country. Mr. Sheridan was much blamed for the unseasonable stimulant which, it was thought, his speech on this occasion had adminis- tered to the temper of Burke; nor can it be doubted that he had thereby, in some degree, accelerated the public burst of that feeling which had so long been treasured up against himself But, whether hastened or delayed, such a breach was ultimately inevitable ; the divergence of the parties once begun, it was in vain to think of restoring their parallelism. That some of their friends, however, had more sanguine hopes appears from an ef- fort which was made, within two days after the occurrence of this remarkable scene, to effect a reconciliation between Burke and Sheridan. The interview that took place on that occasion is thus described by Mr. Dennis O'Brien, one of the persons chiefly instrumental in the arrangements for it : — •* It appeared to the author of this pamphlet* that the difference between these tv7o great men would be a great evil to the country and to their * Entitled '' Utmm Horum." VOL II. ^* 106 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE own party. Full of this persuasion he brought them both together the second night after the original contest in the House of Commons ; and car- ried them to Burlington House to Mr. Fox and the Duke of Portland, ac- cording to a previous arrangement. This interview, which can never be forgotttj by those who were present, lasted from ten o'clock at night until three in the morning, and afforded a very remarkable display of the extra- ordinary talents of the parties." It will easily be believed that to the success of this conciliatory effort the temper on one side would be a greater obstacle than even the hate on both. Mr. Sheridan, as if anxious to repel from himself the suspicion of having contributed to its failure, took an opportunity, during his speech upon the Tobacco Act, in the month of April following, to express himself in the most friendly terms of Mr. Burke, as " one, for whose talents and personal virtue he had the highest esteem, veneration, and regard, and with whom he might be allowed to differ in opinion upon the subject of France, persuaded, as he was, that they never could differ in principle." Of this and some other compliments of a similar nature, Mr. Burke did not deign to take the slightest no- tice — partly, from an implacable feeling towards him who offered them, and partly, perhaps, from a suspicion that they were in tended rather for the ears of the public than his own, and that, while this tendency to conciliation appeared on the surface, the under-current of feelino; and influence set all the other wav. Among the measures which engaged the attention of Mr. She- ridan during this session, the principal was a motion of his own for the repeal of the Excise Duties on Tobacco, which appears to have called forth a more than usual portion of his oratory, — his speeches on the subject occupying nearly forty pages. It is upon topics of this unpromising kind, and from the very effort, perhaps, to dignify and enliven them, that the peculiar characteristics of an orator are sometimes most racily brought out. To the Cider Tax we are indebted for one of the grandest bursts of the consti tutional spirit and eloquence of Lord Chatham ; and, in these orations of Sheridan upon Tobacco, we find examples of the two extreme varieties of his dramatic talent — both of the broad, patural humor of his farce, and the pointed, artificial wit of his RIGHT HO:^. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 107 comedy. For instance, in representing, as one of the abuses that might arise from the discretionary power of remitting fines to manufactm^ers, the danger that those only should feel the indul- gence, who were found to be supporters of the exiVtiiig adminis tration,* he says : — " Were a man, whose stock had increased or dimini'i^hed beyo»3d the standard table in the Act, to attend the Commissioners and assort them that the weather alone had caused the increase or decrrase of the article, and that no fraud whatever had been used on the ocrasion, the Commis- sioners might say to him, ' Sir, you need not give joiivself so nuch trouble to prove your innocence ; — we see horH^ty in your orange cape.' But should a person of quite a different side in politics attend fiSsioners, before they could, in justice, levy such fines, ought to a^co^'taiQ that the weather is always in that precise state of heat or cold whirb the Act supposed it would be. They ought to make Christ- * A f rss of this kind formed the subject of a spirited Speech of Mr. Windham, in 1792. See h7/ Hpeeches, vol. I p. 207. 108 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE mas give security for frost, take a bond for hot weather from August, and oblige damps and fogs to take out permits." It was in one of these speeches on the Tobacco Act, that he adverted with considerable warmth to a rumor, which, he com- plained, had been maliciously circulated, of a misunderstanding between himself and the Duke of Portland, in consequence (as the Report expresses it) of " a certain opposition affirmed to have been made by this Noble Duke, to some views or expectations which he (Mr. Sheridan) was said to have entertained." i_fter declaring that "there was not in these rumors one grain of truth,'' he added that — " He would not venture to state to the Committee the opinion that the Noble Duke was pleased to entertain of him, lest he should be accused of vanity in publishing what he might deem highly flattering. All that he would assert on this occasion was. that if he had it in his power to make the man whose good opinion he should most highly prize think flatteringly of him, he would have that man think of him precisely as the Noble Duke did, and then his wish on that subject would be most amply gratified.'^ As it is certain, that the feelings which Burke entertained to- wards Sheridan were now in some degree shared by all those who afterwards seceded from the party, this boast of the high opinion of the Duke of Portland must be taken with what, in Heraldry, is called Abatement — that is, a certain degree of diminution of the emblazonry. Among the papers of Mr. Sheridan, I find a letter addressed to him this year by one of his most distinguished friends, relative to the motions that had lately been brought forward for the re- lief of the Dissenters. The writer, w^hose alarm for the interest of the Church had somewhat disturbed his sense of liberality and justice, endeavors to impress upon Mr. Sheridan, and through him upon Mr. Fox, how undeserving the Dissenters were, as a political body, of the recent exertions on their behalf, and how ungratefully they had more than once requited the services which the Whigs had rendered them. For this latter charge there was but too much foundation in truth, how^ever ungenerous might be the deduction which the writer would draw from it, It is, lio RIGHT HON. RICHAKD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 109 doubt, natural that large bodies of men, impatiently suffering under the ban of disqualification, should avail themselves, with- out much regard to persons or party, of every aid they can muster for their cause, and should (to use the words of an old Earl of Pembroke) " lean on both sides of the stairs to get up." But, it is equally natural .^at the occasional desertion and ingratitude, of which, in pursuit of this selfish policy, they are but too likely to be guilty towards their best friends, should, if not wholly in dispose the latter to their service, at least considerably moderate their zeal in a cause, where all parties alike seem to be considered but as instruments, and where neither personal predilections nor principle are regarded in the choice of means. To the great credit, however, of the Whig party, it must be said, that, though often set aside and even disowned by their clients, they have rarely suffered their high duty, as advocates, to be relaxed or interrupted by such momentary suspensions of confidence, hi this respect, the cause of Ireland has more than once been a trial of their constancy. Even Lord North was able, by his reluctan"- concessions, to supersede them for a time in the favor of my too believing countrymen, — whose despair of finding justice at any hands has often led them thus to cany their confidence to market, and to place it in the hands of the first plausible bidder. The many vicissitudes of popularity which their own illustrious Whig, Grattan, had to encounter, would have wearied out the ardor of any less magnanimous champion. But high minds are as little affected by such unworthy returns for services, as the sun is by those fogs which the earth throws up between herself and his light. With respect to the Dissenters, they had deserted Mr. Fox in his great struggle with the Crown in 1784, and laid their inter- est and hopes at the feet of the new idol of the day. Notwith- standing this, we find him, in the year 1787, warmly maintaining, and in opposition to his rival, the cause of the very persons who had contrbuted to make that rival triumphant, — and showing just so much remembrance of their late defection as served to r^^nder this sacrifice of personal to public feelmgs more signal. 110 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE " He was determined," he said, " to let them know that, though they could upon some occasions lose sight of their principles of liberty, he would not upon any occasion lose sight of his prin- ciples of toleration." In the present session, too, notwithstand- ing that the great organ of the Dissenters, Dr. Price, had lately in a sermon, published with a view to the Test, made a pointed attack on the morals of Mr. Fox and his friends, this generous advocate of religious liberty not the less promptly acceded to the request of the body, that he would himself bring the motion for their relief before the House. On the 12th of June the Parliament was dissolved, — and Mr. Sheridan again succeeded in being elected for Stafford. The fol- lowing letters, however, addressed to him by Mrs. Sheridan dur- ing the election, will prove that they were not without some apprehensions of a different result. The letters are still more interesting, as showing how warmly alive to each other's feelings the hearts of both husband wife could remain, after the long lapse of near twenty years, and after trials more fatal to love than even time itself '' This letter will find you, my dear Dick, I hope, encircled with honors at Stafford. I take it for granted you entered it triumphantly on Sunday, — but I am very impatient to hear the particulars, and of the utter discom- fiture of S — and his followers. I received your note fi'om Birmingham this morning, and am happy to find that you and my dear cub were well, so far on your journey. You could not be happier than I should be in the pro- posed alteration for Tom, but we will talk more of this vrhon we meet. I .;cnt you Cartwright yesterday, and to-day I pack you off Perry with the soldiers. I was obliged to give them four guineas for their expenses. I send you, likewise, by Perry, the note from Mrs. Crewe, to enable you to speak of your qualification if you should be called upon. So I think I have exe- cuted all your commissions, Sir ; and if you want any of these doubtful votes which I mentioned to you, you will have time enough to send for them, for I would not let them go till I hear they can be of any use. '' And, now for my journal, Sir, which I suppose you expect. Saturday, I was at home all day busy for you, — kept Mrs. Reid to dinner,— went to the Opera,— afterwards to Mrs. St. John's, where I lost my money sadly, Sir, — eat strawberries and cream for supper, — sat between Lord Salisbury and Mr. Meynell, (hope you approve of that, Sir,) — overheard Lord Sails- RIGHT HON. KICHAKD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN". Ill bury advise Miss Boyle by no means to subscribe to Taylor's Opera, as O'Reilly's would certainly have the patent, — confess I did not come home till past two. Sunday, called on Lady Julia, — father and Mr. Reid to din- ner, — in the evening at Lady Hampden's, — lost my money again, Sir, and came home by one o'clock. 'Tis now near one o'clock, — my father is estab- lished in my boudoir, and, when I have finished this, I am going with him to hear Abbe Vogler play on the Stafford organ. I have promised to dine with Mrs. Crewe, who is to have a female party only, — no oljjection to that, I suppose. Sir? Whatever the party do, I shall do of course, — I suppose it will end in Mrs. Hobart's. Mr. James told me on Saturday, and I find it is the report of the day, that Bond Hopkins has gone to Stafford. I am sorry to tell you there is an opposition at York, — Mr. Montague opposes Sir William Milner. Mr. Beckford has given up at Dover, and Lord * * is so provoked at it, that he has given up too, though they say they were both sure. St. Ives is gone for want of a candidate. Mr. Barham is beat at Stockbridge. Charles Lenox has offered for Surry, and they say Lord Egremont might drive him to the deuce, if he would set any body up against him. You know, I suppose, Mr. Crewe has likewise an opponent. I am sorry to tell you all this bad news, and, to complete it, Mr. Adam is sick in bed. and there is nobody to do any good left in town. '' I am more than ever convinced we must look to other resources for wealth and independence, and consider politics merely as an amusement, — and in that light 'tis best to be in Opposition, which I am afraid we are likely to be for some years again. " I see the rumors of war still continue — Stocks continue to fall — is that good or bad for the Ministers? The little boys are come home to me to- day. I could not help showing in my answer to Mr. T.'s letter, that I was hurt at bis conduct, — so I have got another flummery letter, and the boys, who (as he is pretty sure) will be the best peace-makers. God bless you, my dear Dick. I am very well, I assure you ; pray don't neglect to write to your ever affectionate " E. S." ** My Dearest Dick, Wednesday/, " I am full of anxiety and fright about you, — I cannot but think your let- ters are very alarming. Deuce take the Corporation ! is it impossible to make them resign their pretensions, and make peace with the Burgesses ? I have sent Thomas after Mr. Cocker. I suppose you have sent for the out-votes ; but, if they are not good, what a terrible expense will that be ! — however, they are ready. I saw Mr. Cocker yesterday, — he collected them together last night, and gave them a treat, — so they are in high good humor. I inclose you a letter which B. left here last night, — I could not resist opening it. Every thing seems going wrong, I think. I thought he 112 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE was not to do anything in your absence. — It strikes me the bad business he mentions was entirely owing to his own stupidity, and want of a little pa- tience, — is it of much consequence ? I don't hear that the report is true of Basilico's arrival ; — a messenger came to the Spanish embassy, which gave rise to this tale, I believe. " If you were not so worried, I should scold you for the conclusion of your letter of to-day. Might not I as well accuse you of coldness, for not filing your letter with professions, at a time when your head must be full of business ? I think of nothing all day long, but how to do good, some how or other, for you. I have given you a regular Journal of my time, and all to please you, — so don't, dear Dick, lay so much stress on words. I should use them oftener, perhaps, but I feel as if it would look like deceit. You know me well enough, to be sure that I can never do v/hat I'm bid. Sir, — but, pray, donH think I meant to send you a cold letter, for indeed nothing was ever farther from my heart. '' You will see Mr. Home Tooke's advertisement to-day in the papers ; — what do you think of that to complete the thing ? Bishop Dixon has just called from the hustings : — he says the late Recorder, Adair, proposed Charles with a good speech, and great applause, — Captain Berkeley, Lord Hood, with a bad speech, not much applauded ; and then Home Tooke came forward, and, in the most impudent speech that ever was heard, pro- posed himself, — abused both the candidates, and said he should have been ashamed to have sat and heard such ill-deserved praises given him. But he told the crowd that, since so many of these fine virtues and qualifica- tions had never yet done them the least good, they might as well now choose a candidate without them. He said, however, that if they were sincere in their professions of standing alone, he was sure of coming in, for they must all give him their second votes. There was an amazing deal of laughing and noise in the course of his speech. Charles Fox attempted to answer him, and so did Lord Hood, — but they would hear neither, and they are now polling away. '• Do, my dearest love, if you have possibly time, write me a few more particulars, for your letters are very unsatisfactory, and I am full of anx- iety. Make Richardson write,— what has he better to do ? God bless thee, my dear, dear Dick, — would it were over and all well ! I am afraid, at any rate, it will be ruinous work. " Ever your true and affectionate '' E. S. " Near five. I am just come ft'om the hustings ; — the state of the poll when I left it was, Fox, 260 ; Hood, 75 ; Home Tooke, 17 ! But he still persists in his determination of polling a man an hour for the whole time I saw Mr. Wilkes go up to vote for Tooke and Hood, amidst the hisses and groans of a multitude." liiaHT HON.. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. IIS " Friday, " My poor Dick, how you are worried ! This is the day, — you will easily guess how anxious I shall be ; but you seem pretty sanguine yourself, which is my only comfort, for Richardson's letter is rather croaking. You have never said a word of little Monkton : — has he any chance, or none ? I ask questions without considering that, before you receive this, every thing will be decided — I hope triumphantly for you. What a sad set of venal rascals your favorites the Blacks must be, to turn so suddenly from their professions and promises ! I am half sorry you have any thing more to do with them, and more than ever regret you did not stand for West- minster with Charles, instead of Lord John ; — in that case you would have come in now, and we should not have been persecuted by this Home Tooke. However, it is the dullest contested election that ever was seen — no can- vassing, no houses open, no cockades. But T heard that a report prevails now, that Home Tooke polling so few the two or three first days is an art- ful trick to put the others off their guard, and that he means to pour in his votes on the last days, when it will be too late for them to repair their neglect. But I don't think it possible, either, for such a fellow to beat Charles in Westminster. " I have just had a note from Reid — he is at Canterbury : — the state of the poll there, Thursday night, was as follows : — Gipps, 220 ; Lord * *, 211 ; Sir T. Honeywood, 216 ; Mr. Warton, 163. We have got two mem- bers for Wendover, and two at Ailsbury. Mr. Barham is beat at Stock- bridge. Mr. Tierney says he shall be beat, owing to Bate Dudley's man- oeuvres, and the Dissenters having all forsaken him, — a set of ungrateful wretches. E. Fawkener has just sent me a state of the poll at Northamp- ton, as it stood yesterday, when they adjourned to dinner : — Lord Comp- ton, 160 ; Bouverie, 98 ; Colonel Manners, 72. They are in hopes Mr. Manners will give up, this is all my news. Sir. " We had a very pleasant musical party last night at Lord Erskine^s, where I supped. I am asked to dine to-day with Lady Palmerston, at Sheen ; but I can't go, unless Mrs. Crewe will carry me, as the coach is gone to have its new lining. I have sent to ask her, for 'tis a fine day, and I should like it very well. God thee bless, my dear Dick. '^ Yours ever, true and affectionate, "E.S. *^ Duke of Portland has just left me : — he is full of anxiety about you : — this is the second time he has called to inquire." Having secured his own election", Mr. Sheridan now hastened to lend his aid, where such a lively reinforcement was much want- ed, on the hustings at Westminster. The contest here was pro- 114 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF TELll tracted to the 2d of July ; and it required no little exercise both of wit and temper to encounter the cool personalities of Tooke, who had not forgotten the severe remarks of Sheridan upon his pamphlet the preceding year, and w^ho, in addition to his strong powers of sarcasm, had all those advantages w^hich, in such a con- test, contempt for the courtesies and compromises of party war- fare gives. Among other sallies of his splenetic humor it is re- lated, that Mr. Fox having, upon one occasion, retired from the hustings, and left to Sheridan the task of addressing the multi- tude, Tooke remarked, that such was always the practice of quack- doctors, who, w^henever they quit the stage themselves, make it a rule to leave their merry-andrews behind.* The French Revolution still continued, by its comet-like course, to dazzle, alarm, and disturb all Europe. Mr. Burke had pub- lished his celebrated " Reflections" in the month of November, 1790 ; and never did any work, with the exception, perhaps, of the Eikon Basilike, produce such a rapid, deep, and general sen- sation. The Eikon was the book of a King, and this might, in another sense, be called the Book of Kings. Not only in Eng- land, but throughout all Europe, — in every part of w^hich mon- archy was now trembling for its existence, — this lofty appeal to loyalty was heard and welcomed. Its effect upon the already tottering Whig party was like that of " the Voice," in the ruins of Rome, " disparting towers." The whole fabric of the old Rock- ingham confederacy shook to its base. Even some, who after- wards recovered their equilibrium, at first yielded to the eloquence of this extraordinary book, — which, like the £era of chivalry, whose loss it deplores, mixes a grandeur with error, and throws a charm round political superstition, that w^ill long render its pages a sort of region of Royal romance, to which fancy will have re- course for illusions that have lost their last hold on reason. The undisguised freedom with which Mr. Fox and Mr. Sheri- dan expressed every where their opinions of this work and its * Tooke, it is said, upon coming one Monday morning to the hustings, was thus ad- dressed by a partisan of his opponent, not of a very reputal)le character : — "Well, Mr. Tooke, you will have all the blackguiirtls with you to-day."—" I am delighted to hear it, Sir," (S"'iLl TooAe, bowing,) " and from such good authority." manT hon. richaud brinsley sheridan. 115 principles had, of course, no small influence on the temper of the author, and, while it confirmed him in his hatred and jealousy of the one, prepared him for the breach which he meditated with the other. This breach was now, indeed, daily expected, as a natu- ral sequel to the rupture with Mr. Sheridan in the last session ; but, by various accidents and interpositions, the crisis was delayed till the 6th of May, when the recommitment of the Quebec Bill, — a question upon which both orators had already taken occasion to unfold their views of the French Revolution, — furnished Burke with an opportunity, of which he impetuously took advantage, to sever the tie between himself and Mr. Fox forever. This scene, so singular m a public assembly, where the natu- ral affections are but seldom called out, and where, though bursts of temper like that of Burke are common, such tears as those shed by Mr. Fox are rare phenomena, — has been so often described in various publications, that it would be superfluous to enter into the details of it here. The following are the solemn and stern words in which sentence of death was pronounced upon a friend- ship, that had now lasted for more than the fourth part of a cen- tury. " It certainly," said Mr. Burke, " was indiscretion at any period, but especially at his time of life, to provoke enemies, or to give his friends occasion to desert him ; yet, if his firm and steady adherence to the British Constitution placed him in such a dilemma, he would risk all, and, as public duty and public pru- dence taught him, with his last words exclaim, ' Fly from the French Constitution.' " [Mr. Fox here whispered, that " there was no loss of friendship."] Mr. Burke said, " Yes, there was a loss of friendship ; — he knew the price of his conduct ; — he had done his duty at the price of his friend ; their friendship was at an end." In rising to reply to the speech of Burke, Mr. Fox was so af- fected as to be for some moments unable to speak : — he wept, it is said, even to sobbing ; and persons who were in the gallery at tne time declare, that, while he spoke, there was hardly a dry eye around them. Had it been possible for two natures so incapable of disguise 116 MEMOIRS OP l^HE LIFE OF TfiE — the one from simplicity and frankness, the other from ungov- ernable temper, — to have continued in relations of amity, not- withstanding their disagreement upon a question which was at that moment setting the world in arms, both themselves and the country would have been the better for such a compromise be- tween them. Their long habits of mutual deference would have mingled with and moderated the discussion of their present dif- ferences ; — the tendency to one common centre to w^hich their minds had been accustomed, would have prevented them from flying so very widely asunder ; and both might have been thus saved from those extremes of principle, which Mr. Burke always, and Mr. Fox sometimes, had recourse to in defending their re- spective opinions, and which, by lighting, as it were, the torch at both ends, but hastened a conflagration in which Liberty herself might have been the sufferer. But it was evident that such a compromise would have been wholly impossible. Even granting that Mr. Burke did not welcome the schism as a relief, neither the temper of the men nor the spirit of the times, which con- verted opinions at once into passions, would have admitted of such a peaceable counterbalance of principles, nor suffered them long to slumber in that hollow truce, which Tacitus has described, — " manente in speciem amicitiay Mr. Sheridan saw this from the first ; and, in hazarding that vehement speech, by which he provoked the rupture between himself and Burke, neither his judgment nor his temper were so much off their guard as they who blamed that speech seemed inclined to infer. But, perceiv- ing that a separation was in the end inevitable, he thought it safer, perjiaps, as well as manlier, to encounter the extremity at once, than by any temporizing delay, or too complaisant suppression of opinion, to involve both himself and Mr. Fox in the suspicion of either sharing or countenancing that spirit of defection, which, he saw, was fast spreading among the rest of their associates. It is indeed said, and with every appearance of truth, that Mr. Sheridan had felt offended by the censures which some of his po litical friends had pronounced upon the indiscretion (as it was called) of his speech in the last year, and that, having, in con- RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 117 sequence, withdrawn from them the aid of his powerful talents during a great part of the present session, he but returned to his post under the express condition, that he should be allowed to take the earliest opportunity of repeating, fully and explicitly, the same avowal of his sentiments. The following letter from Dr. Parr to Mrs. Sheridan, written immediately after the scene between Burke and Sheridan in the preceding year, is curious : — " Dear Madam, " I am most fixedly and most indignantly on the side of Mr. Sheridan and Mr. Fox against Mr. Burke. It is not merely French politics that pro- duced this dispute ; — they might have been settled privately. No, no, — there is jealousy lurking underneath ; — jealousy of Mr. Sheridan's elo- quence ;— jealousy of his popularity ; — jealousy of his influence with Mr. Fox ; — ^jealousy, perhaps, of his connection with the Prince. " Mr. Sheridan was, I think, not too warm ; or, at least, I should have myself been warmer. Why, Burke accused Mr. Fox and Mr. Sheridan of acts leading to rebellion, — and he made Mr. Fox a dupe, and Mr. Sheridan a traitor ! I think thisj — and I am sure, yes, positively sure, that nothing else will allay the ferment of men's minds. Mr. Sheridan ought, publicly in Parliament, to demand proof, or a retractation, of this horrible charge. Pitt's words never did the party half the hurt ; — and, just on the eve of an election, it is worse. As to private bickerings, or private concessions and reconciliations, they are all nothing. In public all must be again taken up ; for, if drowned, the Public will say, and Pitt will insinuate, that the charge is well founded, and that they dare not provoke an inquiry. " I know Burke is not addicted to giving up, — and so much the worse for him and his party. As to Mr. Fox's yielding, well had it been for all, all, all the party, if Mr. Fox had, now and then, stood out against Mr. Burke. The ferment and alarm are universal, and something must be done ; for it is a conflagration in w^hich they must perish, unless it be stopped. All the papers are with Burke, — even the Foxite papers, which I have seen. I know his violence, and temper, and obstinacy of opinion, and — but I will not speak out, for, though I think him the greatest man upon the earth, yet, in politics I think him, — what he has been found, to the sorrow of those who act with him. He is uncorrupt, T know ; but his passions are quite headstrong ;* and age, and disappointment, and the sight of other men rising into fame and consequence, sour him Pray tell me * It was well said, (I believe, by Mr. Fox,) that it was lucky both for Burke and Wind- ham that they took the Koyal side on the subject of the French Revolution, as they would have got hanged on the other. 118 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE when they are reconciled, — though, as I said, it is nothing to the purpose without a public explanation. ^' I am, dear Madam, " Yours truly, " S. Parr." Another letter, communicated to me as having been written about this period to Sheridan by a Gentleman, then abroad, who was well acquainted with the whole party, contains allusions to the breach, which make its introduction here not irrelevant : — " I wish very much to have some account of the state of things with you that I can rely on. I wish to Know how all my old companions and fellow- laborers do ; if the club yet exists ; if you. and Richardson, and Lord John, and Ellis, and Lawrence, and Fitzpatrick, &c., meet, and joke, and write, as of old. "What is become of Becket's, and the supper-parties, — the nodes ccenceque i Poor Burgoyne ! I am sure you all mourned him as I did. par- ticularly Richardson : — pray remember me affectionately to Richardson. It is a shame for you all, and I will say ungrateful in many of you, to have so totally forgotten me, and to leave me in ignorance of every thing public and private in which I am interested. The only creature who writes to me is the Duke of Portland ; but in the great and weighty occupations that engross his mind, you can easily conceive that the little details of our So- ciety cannot enter into His Grace's correspondence. I have indeed carried on a pretty regular correspondence with young Burke. But that is now at an end. He is so wrapt up in the importance of his present pursuits, that it is too great an honor for me to continue to correspond with him. His father I ever must venerate and ever love ; yet I never could admire, even in him, what his son has inherited from him, a tenacity of opinion and a violence of principle, that makes him lose his friendships in his politics, and quarrel with every one who differs from him. Bitterly have I lamented that greatest of these quarrels, and, indeed, the only important one : nor can I conceive it to have been less afflicting to my private feelings than fatal to the party. The worst of it to me was, that I was obliged to con- demn the man I loved, and that all the warmth of my affection, and the zeal of my partiality, could not suggest a single excuse to vindicate him either to the world or to myself, from the crime (for such it was) of giving such a triumph to the common enemy. He failed, too, in what i most loved him for, — his heart. There it was that Mr. Fox principally rose above him ; nor, amiable as he ever has been, did he ever appear half so amiable as on that trying occasion.'^ The topic upon which Sheridan most distinguished himself during this Session was the meditated interference of England in RIGHT EON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 119 the war between Russia and the Porte, — one of the few measures of Mr. Pitt on which the sense of the nation was opposed to him. So unpopular, indeed, was the Armament, proposed to be raised for this object, and so rapidly did the majority of the Minister diminish during the discussion of it, that there appeared for some time a probability that the Whig party would be called into power, — an event which, happening at this critical juncture, might, by altering the policy of England, have changed the des- tinies of all Europe. The circumstance to which at present this Russian question owes its chief hold upon English memories is the charge, arising out of it, brought against Mr. Fox of having sent Mr. Adair as his representative to Petersburgh, for the purpose of frustrating the objects for which the King's ministers were then actually ne- gotiating. This accusation, though more than once obliquely intimated during the discussions upon the Russian Armament in 1791, first met the public eye, in any tangible form, among those celebrated Articles of Impeachment against Mr. Fox, which were drawn up by Burke's practised hand* in 1793, and found their way surreptitiously into print in 1797. The angry and vindictive tone of this paper was but little calculated to inspire confidence in its statements, and the charge again died away, unsupported and unrefuted, till the appearance of the Memoirs of Mr. Pitt by the Bishop of Winchester ; when, upon the authority of docu- ments said to be found among the papers of Mr. Pitt, but not produced, the accusation was revived, — the Right Reverend biographer calling in aid of his own view of the transaction the charitable opinion of the Turks, who, he complacently assures us, " expressed great surprise that Mr. Fox had not lost his head for such conduct." Notwithstanding, however, this Concordat between the Right Reverend Prelate and the Turks, something more is still wanting to give validity to so serious an accusation. Until the production of the alleged proofs (which Mr. Adair has * This was the third time that his talent for impeachin2: was exercised, as he acknowl- edged having drawn up, during the administration of Lord North, seven distinct Articles of Impeachment against that nobleman, which, however, the advice of Lord Rocking pam induced him to relinquish. 120 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE confidently demanded) shall have put the public in possession of more recondite materials for judging, they must regard as satis- factory and conclusive the refutation of the whole charge, both as regards himself and his illustrious friend, which Mr. Adair has laid before the world ; and for the truth of which not only his own high character, but the character of the ministries of both par- Lies, w^ho have since employed him in missions of the first trust and importance, seem to offer the strongest and most convincing pledges. The Empress of Russia, in testimony of her admiration of the eloquence of Mr. Fox on this occasion, sent an order to England, through her ambassador, for a bust of that statesman, which it was her intention, she said, to place between those of Demos- thenes and Qcero. The following is a literal copy of Her Impe- rial Majesty's note on the subject :* — " Ecrives au Cte. Worenzof cu'il me fasse avoir en marbre blanc le Buste resemblant de Charle Fox. Je veut le mettre sur ma Colonade entre eux de Demosthene et Ciceron. '^ II a deUvre par son eloquence sa Patrie et la Russie d'une guerre a la quelle il n'y avoit ni justice ni raisons.'' Another subject that engaged much of the attention of Mr. Sheridan this year was his own motion relative to the constitu- tion of the Royal Scotch Boroughs. He had been, singularly enough, selected, in the year 1787, by the Burgesses of Scotland, in preference to so many others possessing more personal know- ledge of that country, to present to the House the Petition of the Convention of Delegates, for a Reform of the internal govern- ment of the Royal Boroughs. How fully satisfied they were vvith his exertions in their cause may be judged by the following extract from the Minutes of Convention, dated 11th August, 1791 :— '•'■ Mr. Mills of Perth, after a suitable introductory speech, moved a vote of thanks to Mr. Sheridan, in the following words : — * Found among Mr. Sheridan's papers, with these words, in his OM^n hand-writing", anrr^xed : — "N. B. Fox would have lost it, if I had not made him look for it, and taken a copy," RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 121 "The Delegates of the Burgesses of Scotland, associated for the pur- pose of Reform, taking into their most serious consideration the important services rendered to their cause by the manly and prudent exertions of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, Esq., the genuine and fixed attachment to it which the whole tenor of his conduct has evinced, and the admirable moder- ation he has all along displayed, " Resolved unanimously. That the most sincere thanks of this meeting be given to the said Richard Brinsley Sheridan, Esq., for his steady, honor- able, and judicious conduct in bringing the question relative to the violated rights of the Scottish Boroughs to its present important and favorable cri- sis ; and the Burgesses with firm confidence hope that, from his attachment to the cause, which he has shown to be deeply rooted in principle, he will persevere to exert his distinguished abilities, till the objects of it are ob- tained, with that inflexible firmness, and constitutional moderation, which have appeared so conspicuous and exemplary throughout the whole of his conduct, as to be highly deserving of the imitation of all good citizens. " John Ewen, Secretary." From a private letter written this year by one of the Scottish Delegates to a friend of Mr. Sheridan, (a copy of which letter I have found among the papers of the latter,) it appears that the disturbing effects of Mr. Burke's book had already shown them- selves so strongly among the Whig party as to fill the writer with apprehensions of their defection, even on the safe and mode- rate question of Scotch Reform. He mentions one distinguished member of the party, who afterwards stood conspicuously in the very van of the Opposition, but who at that moment, if the au- thority of the letter may be depended upon, was, like others, under the spell of the great Alarmist, and yielding rapidly to the influence of that anti-revolutionary terror, which, like the Panic dignified by the ancients with the name of one of their Gods, will be long associated in the memories of Englishmen w^ith the mighty name and genius of Burke. A consultation was, how- ever, held among this portion of the party, with respect to the prudence of lending their assistance to the measure of Scotch Reform ; and Sir James Mackintosh, as I have heard him say, was in company with Sheridan, when Dr. Lawrence came direct from the meeting, to inform him that they had agreed to support his motion. VOL, II. 6 122 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE The state of the Scotch Representation is one of those cases where a dread of the ulterior objects of Reform induces many persons to oppose its first steps, however beneficial and reason- able they may deem them, rather than risk a further application of the principle, or open a breach by which a bolder spirit of in- novation may enter. As it is, there is no such thing as popular election in Scotland. We cannot, indeed, more clearly form to ourselves a notion of the manner in which so important a portion of the British empire is represented, than by supposing the Lords of the Manor throughout England to be invested with the power of electing her representatives, — the manorial rights, too, being, in a much greater number of instances than at present, held in- dependently of the land from which they derive their claim, and thus the natural connection between property and the right 'of election being, in most cases, wholly separated. Such would be, as nearly as possible, a parallel to the system of representation now existing in Scotland ; — a system, which it is the understood duty of all present and future Lord Advocates to defend, and which neither th-e lively assaults of a Sheridan nor the sounder reasoning and industry of an Abercrombie have yet been able to shake. The following extract from another of the many letters of Dr. Parr to Sheridan shows still further the feeling entertained towards Burke, even by some of those who most violently dif- fered with him : — ^' During the recess of Parliament I hope you will read the mighty work of my friend and your friend, and Mr. Fox's friend, Mackintosh : there is some obscurity and there are many Scotticisms in it ; yet I do pronounce it the work of a most masculine and comprehensive mind. The arrangement is far more methodical than Mr. Burke's, the sentiments are more patriotic, the reasoning is more profound, and even the imagery in some places is scarcely less splendid. I think Mackintosh a better philosopher, and a bet- ter citizen, and I know him to be a far better scholar and a far better man than Payne ; in whose book there are great irradiations of genius, but none of the glowing and generous warmth which virtue inspires ; that warmth which is often kindled in the bosom of Mackintosh, and which pervades almost every page of Mr. Burke's book— *hough I confess, and with sorrow RIGH;T HON. KICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 123 I confess, that the holy flame was quite extinguished in his odious alterca- tion with you and Mr. Fox." A letter from the Prince of Wales to Sheridan this year fur- nishes a new proof of the confidence reposed in him by His Royal Highness. A question of much delicacy and importance having arisen between that Illustrious Personage and the Duke of York, of a nature, as it appears, too urgent to wait for a refe- rence to Mr. Fox, Sheridan had alone the honor of advising His Royal Highness in the correspondence that took place between him and his Royal Brother on that occasion. Though the letter affords no immediate clue to the subject of these communications, there is little doubt that they referred to a very important and embarrassing question, which is known to have been put by the Duke of York to the Heir- Apparent, previously to his own mar- riage this year ; — a question which involved considerations con- nected with the Succession to the Crown, and which the Prince, with the recollection of what occurred on the same subject in 1787, could only get rid of by an evasive answer. CHAPTER V. DEATH OF MES. SHERIDAN. In the year 1792, after a long illness, which terminated in consumption, Mrs. Sheridan died at Bristol, in the thirty-eighth year of her age. There has seldom, perhaps, existed a finer combination of all those qualities that attract both eye and heart, than this accom- plished and lovely person exhibited. To judge by what we hear, it was impossible to see her without admiration, or know her without love ; and a late Bi-^hop used to say that she " seemed to hira the connecting link between woman and angel."* The devotedness of affection, too, with which she was regarded, not only by her own father and sisters, but by all her husband's family, showed that her fascination was of that best kind which, like charity, " begins at home ;" and that while her beauty and music enchanted the world, she had charms more intrinsic and lasting for those who came nearer to her. We have already seen with what pliant sympathy she followed her husband through his various pursuits, — identifying herself with the politician as warm- ly and readily as with the author, and keeping Love still attendant on Genius through all his transformations. As the wife of the dramatist and manager, we find her calculating the receipts of the house, assisting in the adaptation of her husband's opera, and reading over the plays sent in by dramatic candidates. As the wife of the senator and orator we see her, with no less zeal, * Jackson of Exeler, too, giving a description of her, in some Memoirs of his own Life that were never published, said that to see her, as she stood singing beside him at the piaijo-forte, was " like looking into the face of an angel," BIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 125 making extracts from state-papers, and copying out ponderous pamphlets, — entering with all her heart and soul into the details of elections, and even endeavoring to fathom the mysteries of the Funds. The affectionate and sensible care with which she watched over, not only her own children, but those w^hich her beloved sis- ter, Mrs. Tickell, confided to her, in dying, gives the finish to this picture of domestic usefulness. When it is recollected, too, that the person thus homelily employed was gifted with every charm that could adorn and delight society, it would be difficult, per- haps, to find any where a more perfect example of that happy mixture of utility and ornament, in which all that is prized by the husband and the lover combines, and which renders woman what the Sacred Fire was to the Parsees, — not only an object of adoration on their altars, but a source of warmth and comfort to their hearths. To say that, with all this, she was not happy, nor escaped the censure of the world, is but to assign to her that share of shadow, without which nothing bright ever existed on this earth. United not only by marriage, but by love, to a man who was the object of universal admiration, and whose vanity and passions too often led him to yield to the temptations by which he was surrounded, it was but natural that, in the consciousness of her own power to charm, she should be now and then piqued into an appearance of retaliation, and seem to listen w^ith complaisance to some of those numerous worshippers, who crowd around such beautiful and un- guarded shrines. Not that she was at any time unwatched by- Sheridan, — on the contrary, he followed her with a lover's eyes throughout ; and it was believed of both, by those who knew them best, that, even when they seemed most attracted by other objects, they w^ould willingly, had they consulted the real wishes of their hearts, have given up every one in the world for each other. So wantonly do those, who have happiness in their grasp, trifle with that rare and delicate treasure, till, like the careless hand playing with the rose, " In swinging it rudely, too rudely, alas, / They snap it — it falls to the ground,'' 126 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE They had, immediately after their marriage, as we have seen, passed some time in a little cottage at Eastburnham, and it was a period, of course, long remembered by them both for its happi- ness. I have been told by a friend of Sheridan, that he once overheard him exclaiming to himself, after looking for some moments at his wife, with a pang, no doubt, of melancholy self- reproach, — " Could anything bring back those first feelings ?" then adding with a sigh, " Yes, perhaps, the cottage at East- burnham might." In this as well as in some other traits of the same kind, there is assuredly any thing but that common-place indifference, which too oflen clouds over the evening of married life. Oil the contrary, it seems rather the struggle of affection with its own remorse ; and, like the humorist who mourned over the extinction of his intellect so eloquently as to prove that it was still in full vigor, shows love to be still warmly alive in the very act of lamenting its death. I have already presented the reader with some letters of Mrs. Sheridan, in w^hich the feminine character of her mind very in- terestingly displays itself Their chief charm is unaffectedness, and the total absence of that literary style, which in the present day infects even the most familiar correspondence. I shall here give a few more of her letters, written at different periods to the elder sister of Sheridan, — it being one of her many merits to have kept alive between her husband and his family, though so far separated, a constant and cordial intercourse, which, unluckily, after her death, from his ow^n indolence and the new connections into which he entered, was suffered to die away, almost entirely. The first letter, from its allusion to the Westminster Scrutiny, must have been written in the year 1784, Mr. Fox having gained his great victory over Sir Cecil Wray on the 17th of May, and the Scrutiny having been granted on the same day. " My dear Lisst, London, June 6. " I am happy to find by your last that our apprehensions on Charles's account were useless. The many reports that were circulated here of his accident gave us a good deal of uneasiness ; but it is no longer wonderful RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 127 that he should be buried here, when Mr. Jackman has so barbarously mur- dered him with you. I fancy he would risk another broken head, rather than give up his title to it as an officer of the Crown. We go on here wrangling as usual, but I am afraid all to no purpose. Those who are in possession of power are determined to use it without the least pretence to justice or consistency. They have ordered a Scrutiny for Westminster, in defiance of all law or precedent, and without any other hope or expectation but that of harassing and tormenting Mr. Fox and his friends, and obliging them to waste their time and money, which perhaps they think might other- wise be employed to a better purpose in another cause. We have nothing for it but patience and perseverance, which I hope will at last be crowned with success, though I fear it will be a much longer trial than we at first expected. I hear from every body that your are vastly disliked— but are you not all kept in awe by such beauty ? I know she flattered herseli to subdue all your Volunteers by the fire of her eyes only : — how astonish- ed she must be to find that they have not yet laid down their arms ! There is nothing would tempt me to trust my sweet person upon the water sooner than the thoughts of seeing you ; but I fear my friendship will hardly ever be put to so hard a trial. Though Sheridan is not in office, I think he is more engaged by politics than ever. ^' I suppose we shall not leave town till September. We have promised to pay many visits, but I fear we shall be obliged to give up many of our schemes, for I take it for granted Parliament will meet again as soon as possible. We are to go to Chatsworth, and to another friend of mine in that neighborhood, so that I doubt our being able to pay our annual visit to Crewe Hall. Mrs. Crewe has been very ill all this winter with your old complaint, the rheumatism — she is gone to Brightelmstone to wash it away in the sea. Do you ever see Mrs. Greville ? I am glad to hear my two nephews are both in so thriving a way. Are you still a nurse ? I should like to take a peep at your bantlings. AVhich is the handsomest ? have you candor enough to think any thing equal to your own boy ? if you have, you have more merit than I can claim. Pray remember me kindly to Bess, Mr. L., &c., and don't forget to kiss the little squaller for me when you have nothing better to do. God bless you. " Ever yours." " The inclosed came to Dick in one of Charles's franks ; he said he should write to you himself with it, but I think it safest not to trust him." In another letter, written in the same year, there are some touches both of sisterly and of conjugal feeling, which seem to bespeak a heart happy in all its affections. 128 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE ^^ My Dear Lisst, Putney, August 16. *^ You will no doubt be surprised to find me still dating from this placb but various reasons have detained me here from day to day, to the great dissatisfaction of my dear Mary, who has been expecting me hourly for the last fortnight. I propose going to Hampton-Court to night, if Dick returns in any decent time from town. '•' I got your letter and a half the day before yesterday, and shall be very well pleased to have such blunders occur more frequently. You mistake, if you suppose I am a friend to your tarrers and featherers : — it is such wretches that always ruin a good cause. There is no reason on earth why you should not have a new Parliament as well as us : — it might not, per- haps, be quite as convenient to our immaculate Minister, but I sincerely hope he will not find your Volunteers so accommodating as the present India troops in our House of Commons. What ! does the Secretary at \yar con- descend to reside in any house but his own ? — 'Tls very odd he should turn himself out of doors in his situation. I never could perceive any economy in dragging furniture from one place to another ; but, of course, he has more experience in these matters than I have. " Mr. Forbes dined here the other day, and I had a great deal of conver- sation with him on various subjects relating to you all. He says, Charles's manner of talking of his wife, &c. is so ridiculous, that, whenever 1^ comes into company, they always cry out, — ' Now S n, we allow you half an hour to talk of the beauties of Mrs. S. — half an hour to your child, and an- other half hour to your farm, — and then we expect you will behave like a reasonable person.' " So Mrs. is not happy : poor thing, I dare say, if the truth were known, he teazes her to death. Your very good husbands generally contrive to make you sensible of their merit somehow or other. " From a letter Mr. Canning has just got from Dublin, I find you have been breaking the heads of some of our English heroes. I have no doubt in the world that they deserved it ; and if half a score more that I know had shared the same fate, it might, perhaps, become less the fashion among our young men to be such contemptible coxcombs as they certainly are. •• My sister desired me to say all sorts of affectionate things to you, in return for your kind remembrance of her in your last. I assure you, you lost a great deal by not seeing her in her maternal character : — it is the prettiest sight in the world to see her with her children : — they are both charming creatures, but my little namesake is my delight : — 'tis impossible to say how foolishly fond of her I am. Poor Mary ! she is in a way to have more ;— and what will become of them all is sometimes a consideration that gives me many a painful hour. But they are happy, with their little por- tion of the goods of this world : — then, what ar^j riches good for ? For my I^IGHT HON. EICHAED BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 129 part, as you know, poor Dick and I have always been struggling against the stream, and shall probably continue to do so to the end of our lives, — yet we would not change sentiments or sensations with .... for all his estate. By the bye, I was told t'other day he was going to receive eight thousand pounds as a compromise for his uncle's estate, which has been so long in litigation : — is it true ? — I dare say it is, though, or he would not be so discontented as you say he is. God bless you. — Give my love to Bess, and return a kiss to my nephew for me. Remember me to Mr. L. and be- lieve me " Truly yours." The following letter appears to have been written in 1785, some months after the death of her sister, Miss Maria Linley. Her playful allusions to the fame of her own beauty might have been answered m the lano;uao^e of Paris to Helen : — '^ Minor est tua gloria vera Famaque de forma pene maligna est.^^ *' Thy beauty far outruns even rumor's tongue, And envious fame leaves half thy charms unsung. '^ *'My Dear Lissy, Lelapre Abbey, Dec. 21. " Notwithstanding your incredulity, I assure you I wrote to you from Hampton-Court, very soon after Bess came to England. My letter was a dismal one ; for my mind was at that time entirely occupied by the affect- ing circumstance of my poor sister's death. Perhaps you lost nothing by not receiving my letter, for it was not much calculated to amuse you. *• I am still a recluse, you see, but I am preparing to laujich for the win- ter in a few days. Dick was detained in town by a bad fever : — you may suppose I was kept in ignorance of his situation, or I should not have re- mained so quietly here. He came last week, and the fatigue of the journey very nearly occasioned a relapse : — but by the help of a jewel of a doctor that lives in this neighborhood we are both quite stoat and well again, (for /took it into my head to fall sick again, too, without rhyme or rea- son.) '' We purpose going to town to-morrow or next day. Our own house has been painting and papering, and the weather has been so unfavorable to the business, that it is probable it will not be fit for us to go into this month ; we have, therefore, accepted a most pressing invitation of General Burgoyne to take up our abode with him, till our house is ready ; so your uext must be directed to Bruton-Street, under cover to Dick, unless Charles will frank it again. I don't believe what you say of Charles's not being VOL. n. 6^ 130 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE glad to have seen me in Dublin. You are very flattering in the reasons you give, but I rather think his vanity would have been more gratified by showing every body how much prettier and younger his wife was than the Mrs. Sheridan in whose favor they have been prejudiced by your good-na- tured partiality. If I could have persuaded myself to trust the treacher- ous ocean, the pleasure of seeing you and your nursery would have com- pensated for all the fame I should have lost by a comparison. But my guardian sylph, vainer of my beauty, perhaps, than myself, would not suf- fer me to destroy the flattering illusion you have so often displayed to your Irish friends. No, — I shall stay till I am past all pretensions, and then you may excuse your want of taste by saying, ' Oh, if you had seen her when she was young !' '' I am very glad that Bess is satisfied with my attention to her. The unpleasant situation I was in prevented my seeing her as often as I could wish. For her sake I assure you I shall be glad to have Dick and your fa- ther on good terms, without entering into any arguments on the subject ; but I fear, where one of the parties, at least, has a tincture of what they call in Latin damnatus obstinatus 7nulio, the attempt will be difficult, and the success uncertain. God bless you, and believe me " Mrs. Lefanu, Great Cuff-Street, Dublin. " Truly yours." The next letter I shall give refers to the illness with which old Mr. Sheridan was attacked in the beginning of the year 1788, and of w^hich he died in the month of August following. It is unne- cessary to direct the reader's attention to the passages in which she speaks of her lost sister, Mrs. Tickell, and her children: — they have too much of the heart's best feelings in them to be passed over slightly. '' My Dear Lissy, London, April 5. '' Your last letter I hope was written when you were low spirited, and consequently inclined to forebode misfortune. I would not show it to She- ridan :— he has lately been much harassed by business, and I could not bear to give him the pain I know your letter would have occasioned. Partial as your father has always been to Charles, I am confident he never has, nor ever will feel half the duty and affections that Dick has always exprest. I know how deeply he will be afflicted, if you confirm the melancholy ac- connt of his declining health ;— but I trust your next will remove my ap- prehensions, and make it unnecessary for me to wound his affectionate heart by the intelligence. I flatter myself likewise, that you have been without reason alarmed about poor Bess. Her life, to be sure, must be RIGHI^ IIOK. RlCfiARt) BRINSLEY SHERIDAN, 131 dreadful : — but I should hope the good nature and kindness of her disposi- tion will support her, and enable her to continue the painful duty so ne- cessary, probably, to the comfort of your poor father. If Charles has not or does not do every thing in his power to contribute to the happiness of the few years which nature can allow him, he will have more to answer to his*conscien€e than I trust any of those dear to me will have. Mrs. Crewe told us, the other day, she had heard from Mrs. Greville, that every thing was settled much to your father's satisfaction. I will hope, therefore, as I have said before, you were in a gloomy fit when you wrote, and in the mean time I will congratulate you on the recovery of your own health and that of your children. ^' I have been confined now near two months : — I caught cold almost im- mediately on coming to town, which brought on all those dreadful com- plaints with which I was afflicted at Crewe-Hall. By constant attention and strict regimen I am once m.ore got about again ; but I never go out of my house after the sun is down, and on those terms only can I enjoy tolerable health. I never knew Dick better. My dear boy is now with me for his holydays, and a charming creature he is, I assure you, in every re- spect. My sweet little charge, too, promises to reward me for all my care and anxiety. The little ones come to me every day, though they do not at present live with me. We think of taking a house in the country this summer as necessary for my health and convenient to S., who must be often in town. I shall then have all the children with me, as they now constitute a very great part of my happiness. The scenes of sorrow and sickness I have lately gone through have depressed my spirits, and made me incapable of finding pleasure in the amusements which used to occupy me perhaps too much. My greatest delight is in the reflection that I am acting according to the wishes of my ever dear and lamented sister, and that by fulfilling the sacred trust bequeathed me in her last moments, I insure my own felicity in the grateful affection of the sweet creatures, — whom, though I love for their own sakes, I idolize when I consider them as the dearest part of her who was the first and nearest friend of my heart ! God bless you, my dear Liss : — this is a subject that always carries me away. I will therefore bid you adieu, — only entreating you as soon as you can to send me a more comfortable letter. My kind love to Bess, and Mr. L. *' Yours, ever affectionately." I shall give but one more letter ; which is perhaps only inter- esting as showing how little her heart went along with the gaye- ties into which her husband's connection with the world of fashion and politics led her. 132 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE " My Dear Lissy, May 23. " I have only time at present to write a few lines at the request of Mrs. Crewe, who is made very unhappy by an account of Mrs. Greville's illness^ as she thinks it possible Mrs. G. has not confessed the whole of her situa- tion. She earnestly wishes you would find out from Dr. Quin what the nature of her complaint is, with every other particular you can gather on the subject, and give me a line as soon as possible. ^' I am very glad to find your father is better. As there has been a re- cess lately from the Trial, I thought it best to acquaint Sheridan with hia illness. I hope now, however, there is but little reason to be alarmed about him. Mr. Tickell has just received an account from Holland, that poor Mrs. Berkeley, (whom you know best as Betty Tickell,) was at the point of death in a consumption. " I hope in a very short time now to get into the country. The Duke of Norfolk has lent us a house within twenty miles of London ; and I am impatient to be once more out of this noisy, dissipated town, where I do nothing that I really like, and am forced to appear pleased with every thing odious to me. God bless you. I write in the hurry of dressing for a great ball given by the Duke of York to-night, which I had determined not to go to till late last night, when I was persuaded that it would be very im- proper to refuse a Royal invitation, if I was not absolutely confined by ill- ness. Adieu. Believe me truly yours. ^^ You must pay for this letter, for Dick has got your last with the direc- tion ; and any thing in his hands is irrecoverable /'' The health of Mrs. Sheridan, as we see by some of her letters, had been for some time delicate ; but it appears that her last, fatal illness originated in a cold, which she had caught in the summer of the preceding year. Though she continued from that time to grow gradually worse, her friends were flattered with the hope that as soon as her confinement should take place, she would be relieved from all that appeared most dangerous in her com- plaint. That event, however, produced but a temporary inter- mission of the malady, which returned after a few days with such increased violence, that it became necessary for her, as a last hope, to try the waters of Bristol. Tlie following affectionate letter of Tickell must have oeen written at this period : — '' My Deah Sheridan, ** I was but too well prepared for thx^ng has made me miserable, and injured my health, already in a very bad state. It would give value to my life, could I be of ihat service I think I Mxght be of, if I were near you ; and as I cannot go to you, and as there ^ every reason for your quitting the scene and objects before you, perhapa 142 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF TH:fi jou may let us have the happiness of having you here, and my dear Tom ; I will write to him when my spirits are quieter. I entreat you, my dear brother, try what change of place can do for you : your character and ta- lents are here held in the highest estimation ; and you have here some who love you beyond the afifection any in England can feel for you. '' Cuff-Street, Uh July. A, Lefanu.'' " My dear good Sir, • Wednesday, Uh July, 1792. *^ Permit me to join my entreaties to Lissy's to persuade you to come over to us. A journey might be of service to you, and change of objects a real relief to your mind. We would try every thing to divert your thoughts from too intensely dwelling on certain recollections, which are yet too keen and too fresh to be entertained with safety, — at least to occupy you too entirely. Having been so long separated from your sister, you can hardly have an adequate idea of her love for you. I, who on many occa- sions have observed its operation, can truly and solemnly assure you that it far exceeds any thing I could ever have supposed to have been felt by a sister towards a brother. I am convinced you would experience such soothing in her company and conversation as would restore you to your- self sooner than any thing that could be imagined. Come, then, my dear Sir, and be satisfied you will add greatly to her comfort, and to that of your very afl^ctiouate friend, •' J. Lefaioj/' EiGHT HON. EiCHARU BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 143 CHAPTER VI. U DRURY-LANE THEATRE. — SOCIETY OF '" THE FRIENDS OF THE PEOPLE." — MADAME DE GENLIS. — WAR WITH FRANCE. — WHIG SECEDERS. — SPEECHES IN PARLIA- MENT. — DEATH OF TICKELL. The domestic anxieties of Mr. Sheridan, during this year, left but little room in his mind for public cares. Accordingly, we find that, after the month of April, he absented himself from the House of Commons altogether. In addition to his appre- hensions for the safety of Mrs. Sheridan, he had been for some time harassed by the derangement of his theatrical property, which was now fast falling into a state of arrear and involvement, from which it never after entirely recovered. The Theatre of Drury-Lane having been, in the preceding year, reported by the surveyors to be unsafe and incapable of repair, it was determined to erect an entirely new house upon the same site ; for the accomplishment of which purpose a pro- posal was made, by Mr. Sheridan and Mr. Linley, to raise the sum of one hundred and fifty thousand pounds, by the means of three hundred debentures, of five hundred pounds each. This part of the scheme succeeded instantly ; and I have now before me a list of the holders of the 300 shares, appended to the proposal of 1791, at the head of which the names of the three Trustees, on whom the Theatre was afterwards vested in the year 1793, stand for the following number of shares : — Albany Wallis, 20 ; Hammersley, 50 ; Richard Ford, 20. But, though the money was raised without any difficulty, the completion of the new building was delayed by various negotiations and ob- stacles, while, in the mean time, the company were playing, at an enormous expense, first in the Opera-House, and afterwards at the Haymarket-Theatre, and l\Ir. Sheridan and Mr. Linley wer^ paying interest for the first instalment of the loan. 144 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THlii To these and other causes of the increasmg embarrassments ot Sheridan is to be added the extravagance of his own style of living, which became much more careless and profuse after death had deprived him of her, whose maternal thoughtfulness Alone would have been a check upon such improvident waste. We are enabled to form some idea of his expensive habits, by find- ing, from the letters which have just been quoted, that he was, at the same time, maintaining three establishments, — one at Wan- stead, where his son resided with his tutor; another at Isleworth, which he still held, (as I learn from letters directed to him there,) in 1793 ; and the third, his town-house, in Jermyn-Street. Rich and ready as were the resources which the Treasury of the theatre opened to him, and fertile as v/as his own invention in devising new schemes of finance, such mismanaged expenditure would ex- haust even his magic wealth, and the lamp must cease to answer to the rubbing at last. The tutor, whom he was lucky enough to obtain for his son at this time, was Mr. William Smythe, a gentleman who has since dis- tinguished himself by his classical attainments and graceful talent for poetry. Young Sheridan had previously been under the care of Dr. Parr, with whom he resided a considerable time at Hatton ; and the friendship of this learned man for the father could not have been more strongly shown than in the disinterestedness with wliich he devoted himself to the education of the son. The fol- lowing letter from him to Mr. Sheridan, in the May of this year, proves the kind feeling by which he was actuated towards him : — " Dear Sir, " I hope Tom got home safe, and found you in better spirits. He said something about drawing on your banker ; but I do not understand the process, and shall not take any step. You will consult your own convenience about these things ; for my con- nection with you is that of friendship and personal regard. I feel and remember slights from those I respect, but acts of kind- ness I cannot forget ; and, though my life has been passed far more in doing than receiving service.;, yet I know and I value the RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLE^ SHERIDAN. 145 good dispositions of yourself and a few other friends, — men who are worthy of that name from me. " If you choose Tom to return, he knows and you i^now how glad I am always to see him. If not, pray let him do something, and I will tell you what he should do. " Believe me, dear Sir, " Yours sincerely, "S. Parr." In the spring of this year was established the Society of " The Friends of the People," for the express purpose of obtaining a Parliamentary Reform. To this Association, which, less for its professed object than for the republican tendencies of some of its members, was particularly obnoxious to the loyalists of the day, Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Grey, and many others of the leading persons of the Whig party, belonged. Their Address to the People of England, which was put forth in the month of April, contained an able and temperate exposition of the grounds upon which they sought for Reform ; and the names of Sheridan, Mackintosh, Whi thread, &;c., appear on the list of the Committee, by which this paper was drawn up. It is a proof of the little zeal which Mr. Fox felt at this pe- riod on the subject of Reform, that he withheld the sanction of his name from a Society, to which so many of his most intimate political friends belonged. Some notice was, indeed, taken in the House of this symptom of backwardness in the cause; and Sheridan, in replying to the insinuation, said that " they wanted not the signature of his Right Honorable friend to assure them of his concurrence. They had his bond in the steadiness of his political principles and the integrity of his heart." Mr. Fox himself, however, gave a more definite explanation of the cir- cumstance. " He might be asked," he said, " why his name was not on the list of the Society for Reform ? His reason was, that though he saw great and enormous grievances, he did not see the remedy." It is to be doubted, indeed, whether Mr. Fox ever fully admitted the principle upon which the demand for a Reform was VOL. II. '^ 1-46 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THfi founded. When he afterwards espoused the question so warmly, it seeras to have been merely as one of those weapons caught up in the heat of a warfare, in which Liberty itself appeared to him too imminently endangered to admit of the consideration of any abstract principle, except that summary one of the right of resist ance to power abused. From what has been already said, too, of the language held by Sheridan on this subject, it may be con- cluded that, though far more ready than his friend to inscribe Reform upon the banner of the party, he had even still less made up his mind as to the practicability or expediency of the measure. Looking upon it as a question, the agitation of which was useful to Liberty, and at the same time counting upon the improbability of its obj3cts being ever accomplished, he adopted at once, as we have seen, the most speculative of all the plans that had been proposed, and flattered himself that he thus secured tne benefit of the general prmciple, without risking the incon- venience of any of the piar/ical details. The following extract of a letter from Sheridan to one of his female correspondents^ at this time, will show that he did not quite approve the policy of Mr. Fox in holding aloof from the Reformers : — " I am down here with Mrs. Canning and her family, while all my friends and party are meeting in town, where I have excused myself- to lay their wise heads together in this crisis. Again I say there is nothing but what is unpleasant before my mind. I wish to occupy and fill my thoughts with public matters, and to do justice to the times, they afford materials enough ; but nothing is in prospect to make activity pleasant, or to point one's efforts against one common enemy, making all that engage in the attack cordial, social, and united. On the contrary, every day produces some new schism and absurdity. Windham has signed a non- sensical association with Lord Mulgrave ; and when I left town yesterday, I was informed that the Divan^ as the meeting at Debrett's is called, were furious at an authentic advertisement from the Duke of Portland against Charles Fox's speech in the RIGHT HON. RICHAKD BRIXSLEY SHERIDAK. 147 Whig Qub, which no one before believed to be genuine, but which they now say Dr. Lawrence brought from. Burlington- House. If this is so, depend on it there will be a direct breach in what has been called the Whig Party. Charles Fox must come to the Reformers openly and avowedly ; and in a month four-fifths of the Whig Club will do the same." The motion for the Abolition of the Slave-trade, brought for- ward this year by Mr. Wilberforce, (on w^hose brows it may be said, with much more truth than of the Roman General, " Annexuit Africa lauros^^^) was signalized by one of the most splendid orations that the lofty eloquence of Mr. Pitt ever poured forth.* I men- tion the Debate, however, for the mere purpose of remarking, as a singularity, that, often as this great question was discussed in Parliament, and ample as was the scope which it afforded for the grander appeals of oratory, Mr. Sheridan was upon no occa- sion tempted to utter even a syllable on the subject, — except once for a few minutes, in the year 1787, upon some point relating to the attendance of a witness. The two or three sentences, how- ever, which he did speak on that occasion were sufficient to prove, (what, as he was not a West>India proprietor, no one can doubt,) that the sentiments entertained by him on this interesting topic were, to the full extent, those which actuated not only his own party, but every real lover of justice and humanity throughout the world. To use a quotation which he himself applied to ano- ther branch of the question in 1807 : — ** I would not have a slave to till my ground, To fan me when I sleep, and tremble when ' I wake, for all that human sinews, bought And sold, have ever earned." * It was at the conclusion of ihis speech that, in contemplating the period when Africa would, he hoped, participate in those blessings of civilization and knowledge which were now enjoyed by more fortunate regions, he applied the happy quotation, rendered still more striking, it is said, by the circumstance of the rising sun just then shining in through the windows of the House : — *' Nos primus equis Oriens afflavit cmheliSf lUic sera rulens o.ccendit lhm,ina Fes-jper." i48 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE The National Convention having lately, in the first paroxysm of their republican vanity, conferred the honor of Citizenship upon several distinguished Englishmen, and, among others, up- on Mr. Wilberforce and Sir James Mackintosh, it was intended, as appears by the following letter from Mr. Stone, (a gentleman subsequently brought into notice by the trial of his brother for High Treason,) to invest Mr. Fox and Mr. Sheridan with the same distinction, had not the prudent interference of Mr. Stone saved them from this very questionable honor. The following is the letter which this gentleman addressed to Sheridan on the occasion. ^^Faris^ Nov, 18, Tear- 1, of the French EepuUic. "Dear Sir, " I have taken a liberty with your name, of which I ought to give you notice, and offer some apology. The Convention hav- ing lately enlarged their connections in Europe, are ambitious of adding to the number of their friends by bestowing some mark of distinction on those who have stood forth in support of their cause, when its fate hung doubtful. The French conceive that they owe this obligation very eminently to you and Mr. Fox; and, to show their gratitude, the Committee appointed to make the Keport has determined to offer you to and Mr. Fox the honor of Citizenship. Had this honor never been conferred before, had it been conferred only on worthy members of society, or were you and Mr. Fox only to be named at this moment, I should not have interfered. But as they have given the title to obscure and vulgar men and scoundrels, of which they are now very much ashamed themselves, I have presumed to suppose that you would think yourself much more honored in the breach than the observance, and have therefore caused your nomination to be suspended. But I was influenced in this also by other considerations, of which one v/as, that, though the Committee would be more careful in their selection than the last had been, yet it was probable you would not like to share the honors with such as would be chosen. But another more im- RIGHT HOIT. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 149 portant one that weighed with me was, that this new character would not be a small embarrassment in the route which you have to take the next Session of Parliament, when the affairs of France must necessarily be often the subject of discussion. 'No one will suspect Mr. Wilberforce of being seduced, and no one has thought that he did any thing to render him liable to seduc- tion ; as his superstition and devotedness to Mr. Pitt have kept him perfectly a Vdbri from all temptations to err on the side of liberty, civil or religious. But to you and Mr. Pox the reproach will constantly be made, and the blockheads and knaves in the House will always have the means of influencing the opinions of those without, by opposing with success your English character to your Prench one ; and that which is only a mark of gratitude for past services will be construed by malignity into a bribe of some sort for services yet to be rendered. You may be certain that, in offering the reasons for my conduct, I blush that I think it necessary to stoop to such prejudices. Of this, however, you will be the best judge, and I should esteem it a favor if you would inform me whether I have done right, or whether I shall suffer your names to stand as they did before my interference. There will be sumcient time for me to receive your answer, as I have prevailed on the Eeporter, M. Brissot, to delay a few days. I have given him my reasons for wishing the suspension, to which he has assented. Mr. O'Brien also prompted me to this deed, and, if I have done wrong, he must take half the punishment. My address is ''Rose, Huissier," under cover of the President of the National Convention. ''I have the honor to be "Your most obedient "And most humble servant, "J. H. Stone." It was in the month of October of this year^hat the romantic adventure of Madame de Genlis, (in the contrivance of which the practical humor of Sheridan may, I think, be detected,) oc- curred on the road between London and Dartf ord. This dis- 150 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE tinguished lady liad, at the close of the year 1791, with a view of escapuig the turbulent scenes then passing in France, come over with her illustrious pupil, Mademoiselle d'Orieans, and her adopted daughter, Pamela,* to England, where she received boch from Mr. Fox and Mr. Sheridan, all that attention to which her high character for talent, as well as the embarrassing nature of her situation at that moment, claimed for her. The following letter from her to Mr. Fox I find inclosed in one from the latter to Mr. Sheridan : — •' Sir, " You have, by your infinite kindness, given me the right to show you the utmost confidence. The situation I am in makes me desire to have with me, during two days, a person perfectly well instructed in the Laws, and very sure and honest. I desire such a person that I could ofifer to him all the money he would have for this trouble. But there is not a moment to be lost on the occasion. If you could send me directly this person, you would render me the most important service. To calm the most cruel agitation of a sensible and grateful soul shall be your re- ward. — Oh could I see you but a minute ! — I am uneasy, sick, unhappy ; surrounded by the most dreadful snares of the fraud and wickedness ; I am intrusted with the most interesting and sacred charge ! — All these are my claims to hope your advices, protection and assistance. My friends are absent in that mo- ment ; there is only two names in which I could place my confi- * Married at Tournay in the month of December, 1792, to Lord Edward Fitzgerald Lord Edward was the only one, among the numerous suitors of Mrs. Sheridan, to whom she is supposed to have listened with any thing like a return of feeling ; and that there sho'^ld be mutual admiration between two such noble specimens of human nature, it is easy, without injury to either of them, to believe. Some months before her death, when Sheridan had been describing to her and Lord Edward a beautiful French girl whom he had lately seen, and added that she put him strongly in mind of what his own wife had been in the first bloom of her youth and beauty, Mrs. Sheridan turned to Lord Edward, and said with a melancholy smile, "I should like you, when T am dead, to marry that girl." This was Pamela, whom Sheridan had just seen durmg his visit of a few hours to Madame de Genlis, at Bury, in Suffolk, aud whom Lord Edward married in about a vear after. RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 151 dence and my hopes. Pardon this bad language. As Hypolite I may say, " ^Songez queje vous farle une langue itranghrey but the feelings it expresses cannot be strangers to your heart. " Sans avoir I'avantage d'etre connue de Monsieur Fox, je prens la liberte de le supplier de comuniquer cette lettre a Mr. Sheridan, et si ce dernier n'est pas a Londres, j'ose esperer de Monsieur Fox la meme bonte que j'attendois de Mr. Sheridan dans I'embarras ou je me trouve. Je m'adresse aux deux per- sonnes de I'Angleterre que j'admire le plus, et je serois double- ment heureuse d'etre tiree de cette perplexite et de leur en avoir Tobligation. Je serai pent etre a Londres incessament. Je de- sirerois vivement les y trouver ; mais en attendant je souhaite avec ardeur avoir ici le plus promptement possible I'homme de loi, ou seulement en etat de donner de bons conseils que je de- mand e. Je renouvelle toutes mes excuses de tant d'importu- nites." It was on her departure for France in the present year that the celebrated adventure to which I have alluded, occurred ; and as it is not often that the post-boys between London and Dart- ford are promoted into agents of mystery or romance, I shall give the entire narrative of the event in the lady's own words, — premising, (what Mr. Sheridan, no doubt discovered,) that her imagination had been for some ^ime on the watch for such inci- dents, as she mentions, in another place, her terrors at the idea of " crossing the desert plains of Newmarket without an es- cort." " We left London," says Madame de Genlis, " on our return to France the 20th of October, 1792, and a circumstance occurred to us so extraor- dinary, that I ought not, I feel, to pass it over in silence. I shall merely, however, relate the fact, without any attempt to explain it. or without add- ing to my recital any of those reflections which the impartial reader will easily supply. We set out at ten oxlock in the morning in two carriages, one ?vith six horses, and the other, in which were our maids, with four. I 152 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE had, two months before, sent off four of my servants to Paris, so that we had with us only one French servant, and a footman, whom we had hired to attend us as far as Dover. When we were about a quarter of a league from London, the French servant, who had never made the journey from Dover to London but once before, thought he perceived that we were not in the right road, and on his making the remark to me, I perceived it also. The postillions, on being questioned, said th^t they had only wished to avoid a small hill, and that they would soon return into the high road again. After an interval of three quarters of an hour, seeing that we still continued our way through a country that was entirely new to me, I again interrogated both the footman and the postillions, and they repeated their assiu'ance that we should soon regain the usual road. '^ Notwithstanding this, however, we still pursued our course with ex- treme rapidity, in the same unknown route ; and as I had remarked that the post-boys and footman always answered me in a strange sort of laconic manner, and appeared as if they were afraid to stop, my companions and I began to look at each other with a mixture of surprise and uneasiness. We renewed our inquiries, and at last they answered that it was indeed true they had lost their way, but that they had wished to conceal it from us till they had found the cross-road to Dartford (our first stage,) and that now, having been for an hour and a half in that road, we had but two miles to go before we should reach Dartford. It appeared to us very strange that people should lose their way between London and Dover, but the as- surance that we were only half a league from Dartford dispelled the sort of vague fear that had for a moment agitated us. At last, after nearly an hour had elapsed, seeing that we stiil were not arrived at the end of the stage, our uneasiness increased to a degree Vv^hich amounted even to terror. It was with maich difficulty that I made the post-boys stop opposite a small village which lay to our left ; in spite of my shouts they still went on, till at last the French servant, (for the other did not interfere,) compelled them to stop. I then sent to the village to ask how far we were from Dartford, and my surprise may be guessed when I received for answer that we were now 22 miles, (more than seven leagues,) distant from that place. Conceal- ing my suspicions, I took a guide in the village, and declared that it was my wish to return to London, as I found I was now at a less distance fronc that city than from Dartford. The post-boys made much resistance to my desire, and even behaved with an extreme degree of insolence, but our French servant, backed by the guide, compelled them to obey. ^' As we returned at a very slow pace, owing to the sulkiness of the post- boys and the fatigue of the horses, we did not reach London before night- fall, when I immediately drove to Mr. Sheridan^s house. He was extremely surprised to see me returned, and on my relating to him our adventure, agreed with us that it could not have been the result of mere chance. He RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDiiS.. 153 then sent for a Justice of the Peace to examine the post-boys, who were detained till his arrival under the pretence of calculating their account ; but in the meantime, the hired footman disappeared and never returned. The post-boys being examined by the Justice according to the legal form, and in the presence of witnesses, gave their answers in a very confused way, but confessed that an unknown gentleman had come in the morning to their masters, and carrying them from thence to a public-house, had. by giv- ing them something to drink, persuaded them to take the road by which we had gone. The examination was continued for a long time, but no further confession could be drawn from them. Mr. Sheridan told me, that there was sufficient proof on which to ground an action against these men, but that it would be a tedious process, and cost a great deal of money. The post-boys were therefore dismissed, and we did not pursue the inquiry any further. As Mr. Sheridan saw the terror 1 was in at the very idea of again venturing on the road to Dover, he promised to accompany us thither him- self, but added that, having some indispensable business on his hands, he could not go for some days. He took us then to Isleworth, a country-house which he had near Richmond, on the banks of the Thames, and as he was not able to dispatch his business so quickly as he expected, we remained for a month in that hospitable retreat, which both gratitude and friendship rendered so agreeable to us.'' It is impossible to read this narrative, with the recollection, at the same time,* in our minds of the boyish propensity of Sheri- dan to what are called practical jokes, without strongly suspect- ing that he was himself the contriver of the whole adventure. The ready attendance of the Justice, — the " unknown gentleman" deposed to by the post-boys, — the disappearance of the laquais, and the advice given by Sheridan that the affair should be pur- sued no further, — all strongly savor of dramatic contrivance, and must have afforded a scene not a little trying to the gravity of him who took the trouble of getting it up. With respect to his motive, the agreeable month at his country-house sufficiently ex- plains it ; nor could his conscience have felt much scruples about an imposture, which, so far from being attended wdth anydisagreea ble consequences, furnished the lady with an incident of romance, of which she was but too happy to avail herself, and procured for him the presence of such a distinguished party, to grace and enliven the festivities of Isleworth.* * In the Memoirs of Mad. de Genlis. lateH- '^nblislied, she supplies a slill more interest VOL. n. '* 154 MEMOIES OF THE LIFE OF THE At the end of the month, (adds Madame de Genlis,) " Mr. Slieridan having finished his business, we set off together for Dover, himself, his son, and an English friend of his, Mr. Reid, with whom I was but a few days acquainted. It was now near the end of the month of No- vember, 1792. The wind being adverse, detained us for five days at Dover, during all which time Mr. Sheridan remained with us. At last the wind grew less unfavorable, but still blew so violently that nobody would advise me to embark. I resolved, however, to venture, and Mr. Sheridan attend- ed us into the very packet-boat, where I received his farewell with a feel- ing of sadness which I cannot express. He would have crossed with us. but that some indispensable duty, at that moment, required his presence in England. He, however, left us Mr. Reid, who had the goodness to accom- pany us to Paris.'' In 1793 war was declared between England and France. Though hostilities might, for a short time longer, have been avoided, by a more accommodating readiness in listening to the overtures of France, and a less stately tone on the part of the English negotiator, there could hardly have existed in dispassion- ate minds any hope of averting the war entirely, or even of postponing it for any considerable period, hideed, however rational at first might have been the expectation, that France, if left to pass through the ferment of her own Revolution, would have either settled at last into a less dangerous form of power, or exhausted herself into a state of harmlessness during the pro- cess, this hope had been for some time frustrated by the crusade proclaimed against her liberties by the confederated Princes of Europe. The conference at Pilnltz and the Manifesto of the Duke of Brunswick had taught the French people what they were to expect, if conquered, and had given to that inundation of energy, under which the Republic herself was sinking, a vent ing key to his motives for such a contrivance. It appears, from the new recollections of this lady, that "he was passionately in love with Pamela," and that, before her depar- ture from England, the folh'wing scene took place : — " Two days before we set out, Mr. Sheridan made, in my presence, his declaration of love to Pamela, who was affected by hia agreeable manner and high ciiaracier. and accepted the offer of his hand with plea- sure. In consequence of this, it was settled that he was to marry her on our return from France, which was expected to take place in a fortnight." I suspect this to be but a continuation of the Romance of Dartford. RiaHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 155 and direction outwards that transferred all the ruin to her ene- mies. In the wild career of aggression and lawlessness, of con- quest without, and anarchy within, which naturally followed such an outbreak of a whole maddened people, it would have been difficult for England, by any management whatever, to keep herself uninvolved in the general combustion, — even had her own population been much less heartily disposed than they were then, and ever have been, to strike in with the great discords of the world. That Mr. Pitt himself was slow and reluctant to yield to the necessity of hostile measures against France, appears from the whole course of his financial policy, down to the very close of the session of 1792. The confidence, indeed, with which he looked forward to a long continuance of peace, in the midst of events, that were audibly the first mutterings of the earthquake, seemed but little indicative of that philosophic sagacity, which enables a statesman to see the rudiments of the Future in the Present.* "It is not unreasonable," said he on the 21st of February, 1792, " to expect that the peace which we now enjoy should continue at least fifteen years, since at no period of the British history, whether we consider the internal situation of this kingdom or its relation to foreign powers, has the prospect of war been farther removed than at present." In pursuance of this feeling of security, he, in the course of the session of 1791-2, repealed taxes to the amount of 200,000^. a year, made considerable reductions in the naval and military establishments, and allowed the Hessian Subsidy to expire, with- out any movement towards its renewal. He likewise showed his perfect confidence in the tranquillity of the country, by break- * From the following words in his Speech on the communication from France in 1800, he appears, himself, to have been aware of his want of foresight at the commencement of the war : — " Besides this, the reduction of ouf Peace Establishment in the year 1791, and continued to the subsequent year, is a fact, from which the inference is indisputable ; a fact, which, am afraid, shows not only that we were not waiting for the occasion of war, but that, m our pariiality for a pacific system, we had indulged ourselves in a fond and credulovjfl •ecurity, which wisdom and discretion would not have dictated." 156 MEMOiES OF THE LIFE OF THE ing off a negotiation into which he had entered with the holders of the four per cents, for the reduction of their stock to three per cent. — saying, in answer to their demand of a larger bonus than he thought proper to give, " Then we will put off the re- duction of this stock till next year." The truth is, Mr. Pitt was proud of his financial system ; — the abolition of taxes and the Reduction of the National Debt were the two great results t which he looked as a proof of its perfection ; and while a war he knew, would produce the very reverse of the one, it would leave little more than the name and semblance of the other. The alarm for the safety of their establishments, which at this time pervaded the great mass of the people of England, carried the proof of its own needlessness in the wide extent to which it spread, and the very small minority that was thereby left to be the object of apprehension. That in this minority, (which was, with few exceptions, confined to the lower classes,) the elements of sedition and insurrection were actively at work, cannot be de- nied. There was not a corner of Europe where the same ingre- dients were not brought into ferment ; for the French Revolu- tion had not only the violence, but the pervading influence of the Simoom, and while it destroyed where it immediately passed, made itself felt every where. But, surrounded and watched as were the few disaffected in England, by all the rank, property and power of the country, — animated at that moment by a more than usual portion of loyalty, — the dangers from sedition, as yet, were by no means either so deep or extensive, as that a strict and vigilant exercise of the laws already in being, would not have been abundantly adequate to all the purposes of their sup pression. The admiration, indeed, with which the first dawn of the Revo- lution was hailed had considerably abated. The excesses into which the new Republic broke loose had alienated the worship of most of its higher class of votaries, and in some, as in Mr. Windham, had converted enthusiastic admiration into horror ; — so that, though a strong sympathy with the general cause of the Ravnliitiori was still felt among the few Whigs that remained^ HIGHT HOK. RiCHARi) BRlNSLEY SHERIDAN. 157 the profession of its wild, republican theories was chiefly con- fined to two classes of persons, who coincide more frequently than they themselves imagine, — the speculative and the ig- norant. The Minister, however, gave way to a panic which, there is every reason to believe, he did not himself participate, and in going out of the precincts of the Constitution for new and ar- bitrary powers, established a series of fatal precedents, of which alarmed Authority will be always but too ready to avail itself. By these stretches of power he produced — what was far more dangerous than all the ravmgs of club politicians — that vehement reaction of feeling on the part of Mr. Fox and his followers, which increased with the increasing rigor of the government, and sometimes led them to the brink of such modes and principles of opposition, as aggressions, so wanton, upon liberty alone could have either provoked or justified. The great promoters of the alarm were Mr. Burke, and those other Whig Seceders, who had for some time taken part with the administration against their former friends, and, as is usual with such proselytes, outran those whom they joined, on every point upon which they before most differed from them. To justify their defection, the dangers upon which they grounded it, were exaggerated ; and the eagerness with which they called for restrictions upon the liberty of the subject was but too worthy of deserters not only from their post but from their prmciples. One striking difference between these new pupils of Toryism and their master was with respect to the ultimate object of the war. — Mr. Pitt being of opinion that security against the power of France, without any interference whatever with her internal affairs, was the sole aim to which hostilities should be directed ; while nothing less than the restoration of the Bourbons to the power which they possessed before the assembling of the Etats Genereaux could satisfy Mr. Burke and his fellow converts to the cause of Thrones and Hierarchies. The effect of this diversity of objects upon the conduct of the war — particularly afler Mr, Pitt had added to " Security for the future," the suspicious sup- 168 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE plement of " Indemnity for the past" — was no less fatal to the success of operations abroad than to the unity of councils at home. So separate, indeed, were the views of the two parties considered, that the unfortunate expedition, in aid of the Vendean insurgents in 1795, was known to be peculiarly the measure of the Burke part of the cabinet, and to have been undertaken on the sole responsibility of their ministerial organ, Mr. Windham. It must be owned, too, that the object of the Alarmists in the war, however grossly inconsistent with their former principles, had the merit of being far more definite than that of Mr. Pitt ; and, had it been singly and consistently pursued from the first, with all the vigor and concentration of means so strenuously recommended by Mr. Burke, might have justified its quixotism in the end by a more speedy and less ruinous success. As it was, however, the divisions, jealousies and alarms which Mr. Pitt's views towards a future dismemberment of France excited not only among the Continental powers, but among the French themselves, completely defeated every hope and plan for either concert without or co- operation ^^dthin. At tktj same time, the distraction of the efforts of England from the heart of French power to its remote extremities, in what Mr. Windham called " a war upon sugar Islands," was a waste of means as unstates- manlike as it was calamitous, and fully entitled Mr. Pitt to the satire on his policy, conveyed in the remark of a certain distin- guished lady, who said to him, upon hearing of some new acqui- sition in the West Indies, " I protest, Mr. Pitt, if you go on thus, you will soon be master of every island in the world except just those two little ones, England and Ireland."* That such was the light in which Mr. Sheridan himself viewed the mode of carrying on the war recommended by the Alarm- ists, in comparison with that which Mr. Pitt in general adopted, appears from the following passage in his speech upon Spanish affairs in the year 1808 : — " There was hardly a person, except his Right Honorable Friend near ♦ Mr. Sheridan quoted this anecdote in one of his speeches in 1794. RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRtNSLEY SHERIDAN. 159 him, (Mr. Windham,) and Mr. Burke, who since the Revolution of France had formed adequate notions of the necessary steps to be taken. The va- rious governments which this country had seen during that period were always employed in filching for a sugar-island, or some other object of comparatively trifling moment, while the main and principal purpose was lost and forgotten." Whatever were the failures of Mr. Pitt abroad, at home his ascendancy was fixed and indisputable ; and, among all the tri- umphs of power which he enjoyed during his career, the tribute now paid to him by the Whig Aristocracy, in taking shelter under his ministry from the dangers of Revolution, could not have been the least gratifying to his haughty spirit. The India Bill had ranged on his side the King and the People, and the Revolution now brought to his banner the flower of the Nobility of 'both parties. His own estimate of rank may be fairly col- lected both from the indifference which he showed to its honors himself, and from the depreciating profusion with which he lav- ished them upon others. It may be doubted whether his respect for Aristocracy was much increased, by the readiness which he now saw in some of his high-born opponents, to volunteer for safety into his already powerful ranks, without even pausing to try the experiment, whetTier safety might not have been recon cilable with principle in their own. It is certain that, without the accession of so m.uch weight and influence, he never could have ventured upon the violations of the Constitution that fol- lowed — nor would the Opposition, accordingly, have been driven by these excesses of power into that reactive violence which was the natural consequence of an effort to resist them. The pru- dent apprehensions, therefore, of these Noble Whigs would have been much more usefully as well as honorably employed, in mingling with, and moderating the proceedings of the friends of Liberty, than in ministering fresh fuel to the zeal and vindictive- ness of her enemies.* * The case against these Nob-e Seceders is thus spiritedly stated by Lord Moira : — " I cannot ever sit in a cabinet with the Duke of Portland. He appears to nne to have done more injury to the Constitution and to the estimation of the higher ranks in this coun- 160 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE It may be added, too, that in allowing themselves to be per- suaded by Burke, that the extiuction of the ancient Noblesse of France protended necessarily auy danger to the English Aris- tocracy, these ]^oble persons did injustice to the strength of their own order, and to the characteristics by which it is proudly distinguished from every other race of Nobility in Europe. Placed, as a sort of break- water, between the People and the Throne, in a state of double responsibility to liberty on one side, and authority on the other, the Aristocracy of England hold a station which is dignified by its own great duties, and of which the titles transmitted by their ancestors form the least important ornament. Unlike the Nobility of other countries, where the rank and privileges of the father are multiplied through his off- spring, and equally elevate them all aoove the level of the com- munity, the very highest English Nobleman must consent to be the father but of commoners. Thus, connected with the class below him by private as well as public sympathies, he gives his children to the People as hostages for the sincerity of his zeal in their cause— while on the other hand, the People, in return for these pledges of the Aristocracy, sends a portion of its own ele- ments aloft into that higher region, to mingle with its glories and assert their claim to a share in its -power. By this mutual transfusion an equilibrium is preserved, like that which similar processes maintain in the natural world, and while a healthy, popular feeling circulates through the Aristocracy, a sense of their own station in the scale elevates the People. To tremble for the safety of a Nobility so constituted, with- out much stronger grounds for alarm than appear to have existed in 1793, was an injustice not only to that class itself, but the try than any man on the political stage. By his union with Mr. Pitt he bas given it to be understood by the people, that either all the constitutional charges which he and his friends for so many years urged against Mr. Pitt were groundless, or that, heing solid, there was no difficulty in waving them when a convenient partition of powers and emoluments was proposed. In either case the people must infer that the constitutional principle which can he so played with is unimportant, and that parhamentary professions are no security."— I/etfer from the Earl of Moira to Colonel M'Mahon, in 1797. Far- liamentary History, RIGHT HOK. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN.' Ibl whole nation. The world has never yet afforded an example, where this artificial distinction between mankind has been turned to such beneficial account ; and as no monarchy can exist without such an order, so, in any other shape than this, such an order is a burden and a nuisance. In England, so happy a conformation of her Aristocracy is one of those fortuitous results which time and circumstances have brought out in the long-tried experiment of her Constitution ; and. while there is no chance of its being -^ver again attained in the Old World, there is but little proba- bility of its being attempted in the New, — where the youthful nations now springing mto life, will, if they are wise, make the most of the free career before them, and unencumbered with the costly trappings of feudalism, adopt, like their northern neigh- bors, that form of government, whose simplicity and cheapness are the best guarantees for its efficacy and purity. In judging of the policy of Mr. Pitt, during the Revolutionary war, his partisans, we know, laud it as having been the means of salvation to England, while his opponents assert that it was only prevented by chance from being her ruin — and though the event gives an appearance of triumph to the former opinion. It by no means lemoves or even weakens the grounds of the latter. During the first nine years of his administration, Mr. Pitt was, in every respect, an able and most useful minister, and, " while the sea was calm, show^ed mastership in floating.'' But the great events that happened afterwards took him by surprise. When he came to look abroad from his cabinet into the storm that was brewing through Europe, the clear and enlarged view of the higher order of statesmen was wanting. Instead of elevating himself above the influence of the agitation and alarm that pre- vailed, he gave way to it with the crowd of ordinary minds, and even took counsel from the panic of others. The conse- quence was a series of measures, violent at home and inefficient abroad — far short of the mark where vigor was w^anting, and beyond it, as often, where vigor was mischievous. When we are told to regard his policy as the salvation of the country — when, (to use a figure of Mr. Dundas,) a claim of 162 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THeJ salvage is made for him,— it may be allowed us to consider a little the nature of the measures, by which this alleged salvation was achieved. If entering into a great war without either consisten- cy of plan, or preparation of means, and with a total ignorance of the financial resources of the enemy*— if allowing one part of the Cabinet to flatter the Trench Koyalists, with the hope of seeing the Bourbons restored to undiminished power, while the other part acted, whenever an opportunity offered, upon the plan of dismembering France for the aggrandizement of Austria, and thus, at once, alienated Prussia at the very moment of subsidiz- ing him, and lost the confidence of all the Eoyalist party in rrance,t except the few who were ruined by English assistance at Quiberon— if going to war in 179B for the right of the Dutch to a river, and so managing it that in 1794 the Dutch lost their whole Seven Provinces— if lavishing more money upon failures than the successes of a century had cost, and supporting this profusion by schemes of finance, either hollow and delusive, like the Sink- ing Fund, or desperately regardless of the future, like the paper issues— if driving Ireland into rebellion by the perfidious recall of Lord Fitzwiliiam, and reducing England to two of the most fearful trials, that a nation, depending upon credit and a navy, could encounter, the stoppage of her Bank and a mutiny in her fleet— if, finally, floundering on from effort to effort against France, and then dying upon the ruins of the last Coalition he could muster against her— if all this betokens a wise and able minister, then is Mr. Pitt most amply entitled to that name ;— then are the lessons of wisdom to be read, like Hebrew, back- ward, and waste and rashness and systematic failure to be held the only true means of saving a country. Had even success, by one of those anomalous accidents, which sometimes baffle the best founded calculations of wisdom, been * Into his erroneous calculations upon this point he is supposed to have been led by Sir Francis D'lvernois. t Among other instances, the Abbe Maury is reported to have said at Home in a large company of his countrymen—*' Still we have one remedy— let us not allow France to be divided— we have seen the partition of Poland: we must all turn Jacobins to preserve our country." BIGHT HON. EICHAKD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 163 the imroediate result of this long monotony of error, it could not, except with those to whom the event is every thing — " Eventus, stultorum magister ""^ — reflect back merit upon the means by which it was achieved, or, by a retrospective miracle, convert that into wisdom, which chance had only saved from the v/orst conse- quences of folly. Just as well might we be called upon to pro- nounce Alchemy a wise art, because a perseverance in its failures and reveries had led by accident to the discoveries of Chemistry. But even this sanction of good-luck was wanting to the unredeem- ed mistakes of Mr. Pitt. During the eight years that intervened between his death and the termination of the contest, the adop- tion of a far wiser policy was forced upon his more tractable pupils ; and the only share that his measures can claim in the successful issue of the war, is that of having produced the griev- ance that was then abated — of having raised up the power op- posed to him to the portentous and dizzy height, from which it then fell by the giddiness of its own elevation,f and by the re- action, not of the Princes, but the People of Europe against its yoke. What would have been the course of affairs, both foreign and domestic, had Mr. Fox — as was, at one time, not improbable — been the Minister during this period, must be left to that super human knowledge, which the schoolmen call " media scientia^'^^ and which consists in knowing all that would have happened, had events been otherwise than they have been. It is probable that some of , the results would not have been so different as the res- pective principles of Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox might naturally lead us, on the first thought, to assert. If left to himself, there is little doubt that the latter, from the simple and fearless magnanimity of his nature, would have consulted for the public safety with that moderation which true courage inspires ; and that, even had it been necessary to suspend the Constitution for a season, he would * A saying of the wise Fabius. f ^^ summisque negcLtum Stare diu.'* Lucan. 164 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE have known how to veil the statue of Liberty,* without leaving, like his rival, such marks of mutilation on its limbs. But it is to be recollected that he would have had to encounter, in his own ranks, tlie very same patrician alarm, which could even to Mr. Pitt give an increase of momentum against liberty, and which the possession of power would have rendered but more sensitive and arbitrary. Accustomed, too, as he had long been, to yield to the mfluence of Burke, it v/ould have required more firmness than habitually belonged to Mr. Fox, to withstand the persever- ing impetuosity of such a counsellor, or keep the balance of his mind unshaken by those stupendous powers, which, like the horses of the Sun breaking out of the ecliptic, carried every thing they seized upon, so splendidly astray : — " quaque iyyipetus egit, Hac sine lege ruunt, altoque sub cethcre Jlxis IncuTsant stellis, rapiunique per avia currumP "WTiere'er the impulse drives, they burst away In lawless grandeur ; — break into the array Of the fix'd stars, and bound and blaze along Their devious course, magnificently wrong ! Having hazarded these general observations, upon the views and conduct of the respective parties of England, during the Crusade now begun against the French people, I shall content myself w^ith briefly and cursorily noticing the chief questions upon which Mr. Sheridan distinguished himself, in the course of the parlia mentary campaigns that followed. The sort of guerilla warfa which he and the rest of the small band attached to Mr. F carried on, during this period, against the invaders of the Con- stitution, is interesting rather by its general character than its detail ; for in these, as usual, the episodes of party personality are found to encroach disproportionately on the main design, and the grandeur of the cause, as \^ewed at a distance, becomes diminished to our imaginations by too near an approach. Eng- * *^ II y a des cos ou ilfaut mettre pour un moment un voile sur la Libertej crnnme Von cac7i€Z«ss^. 175 to a closer connection than ever with Fox and a few others of lesser note, forming together as desperate and profligate a gang as ever disgraced a civilized country. They were guilty of every species of enormity, and went so far as even to commit robberies on the highway, with a degree of audacity that could be equalled only by the ingenuity with which they es- caped conviction. Sheridan, not satisfied with eluding, determined to mock the justice of his country, and composed a Masque called ' The Foresters,^ containing a circumstantial account of some of the robberies he had com- mitted, and a good deal of sarcasm on the pusillanimity of those whom he nad robbed, and the inefficacy of the penal laws of the kingdom. This piece was acted at Drury-Lane Theatre with great applause, to the astonishment of all sober persons, and the scandal of the nation. His Majesty, who had icng wished to curb the licentiousness of the press and the theatres, thought this a good opportunity. He ordered the performers to be enlisted into the army, the play-house to be shut up, and all theatrical exhibitions to be for- bid on pain of death. Drury-Lane play-house was soon after converted into a barrack for soldiers, which it has continued to be ever since. Sheridan was arrested, and, it was imagined, would have suffered the rack, if he had not escaped from his guard by a stratagem, and gone over to Ireland in a balloon with which his friend Fox furnished him. Immediately on his ar- rival in Ireland, he put himself at the head of a party of the most violent eformers, commanded a regiment of Volunteers at the siege of Dublin in /91, and was supposed to be the person who planned the scheme for tar- ing and feathering Mr. Jenkinson, the Lord Lieutenant, and forcing him in that condition to sign the capitulation of the Castle. The persons who were to execute this strange enterprise had actually got into the Lord Lieu- tenant's apartment at midnight, and would probably have succeeded in their project, if Sheridan, who was intoxicated with wliiskey, a strong liquor much in vogue with the Volunteers, had not attempted to force open the door of Mrs. 's bed-chamber, and so given the alarm to the garrison, who instantly flew to arms, seized Sheridan and every one of his party, and confined them in the castle-dungeon. Sheridan was ordered for execution the next day, but had no sooner got his legs and arms at liberty, than he began capering, jumping, dancing, and making all sorts of antics, to the utter amazement of the spectators. When the chaplain endeavored, by se- rious advice and admonition, to bring him to a proper sense of his dreadful situation, he grinned, made faces at him, tried to tickle him, and played a thousand other pranks with such astonishing drollery, that the gravest countenances became cheerful, and the saddest hearts glad. The soldiers who attended at the gallows were so delighted with his merriment, which they deemed magnanimity, that the sheriffs began to apprehend a rescue, Mid ordered the hangman instantly to do his duty. He went off in a loud It3 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE horse-laugh, and east a look towards the Castle, accompanied with a ges- ture expressive of no great respect. "Thus ended the life of this singular and unhappy man— a melancholy instance of the calamities that attend the misapplication of great and splendid ability. He was married to a very beautiful and amiable woman, for whom he is said to have entertained an unalterable affection. He had one son, a boy of the most promising hopes, whom he would never suffer to be instructed in the first rudiments of literature. He amused himself, how- ever, with teaching the boy to draw portraits with his toes, in which he soon became so astonishing a pi'oficient that he seldom failed to take a most exact likeness of every person who sat to him. "There are a few more plays by the same author, all of them excellent. "For further information concerning this strange man, vide ' Macpher- son's Moral History,' Art. 'Drunkenness,' " ^^ niGHT HON. RICHARD BRIKSLEY SUEBIDAN. 177 CHAPTER YII. SPEECH IN ANSWER TO LORD MORNINGTO]N.— COALITION OF THE WHIG SECEDERS WITH MR. PITT. — MR. CANNING. — EVIDENCE ON THE TRIAL OF HORNE TOOKE. — THE " GLORIOUS FIRST OF JUNE." — MAl^RIAGE OF MR. SHERI- DAN. — PAMPHLET OF MR. REEVES. — DEBTS OF THE PRINCE OF WALES. — SHAKSPEARE MANUSCRIPTS. — TRIAL OF STONE. — MUTINY AT THE NORE. — SECESSION OF MR. FOX FROM PARLIAMENT. In the year 1794, the natural consequences of the policy pur- sued by Mr. Pitt began rapidly to unfold themselves both at home and abroad.* The confederated Princes of the Continent, among whom the gold of England was now the sole bond of union, had succeeded as might be expected from so noble an incentive, and, powerful only in provoking France, had by every step they took but ministered to her aggrandizement. In the mean time, the measures of the English Minister at home were directed to the two great objects of his legislation — the raising of supplies and the suppressing of sedition ; or, in other words^ to the double and anomalous task of making the people pay for the failures of their Royal allies, and suffer for their sympa- thy with the success of their republican enemies. It is the opi- nion of a learned Jesuit that it was by aqua regia the Golden Calf of the Israelites was dissolved — and the cause of Kings was • See, for a masterly exposure of the errors of the War, the Speech of Lord Lansdowne this year on bringing forward his Motion for Peace. I cannot let the name of this Nobleman pass, without briefly expressing the deep grati- tude which I feel to him, not only for his own kindness to me, when introduced, as a boy to his notice, but for the friendship of his truly Noble descendant, which I, in a great de- gree, owe to him, and which has long been the pride and happiness of my life. VOL. II. 8* i?8 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THlil the Rojal solvent, in which the wealth of Great Britain now melted irrecoverably away. While the successes, too, of the French had already lowered the tone of the Minister from pro- jects of aggression to precautions of defence, the wounds which, in the wantonness of alarm, he had inflicted on the liberties of the country, were spreading an inflammation around them that threat- ened real danger. The severity of the sentence upon Muir and Palmer in Scotland, and the daring confidence with which charges of High Treason were exhibited against persons who were, at the worst, but indiscreet reformers, excited the apprehensions of even the least sensitive friends of freedom. It is, indeed, difficult to say how far the excited temper of the Government, seconded by the ever ready subservience of state-lawyers and bishops, might have proceeded at this moment, had not the acquittal of Tooke and his associates, and the triumph it diffused through the coun- try, given a lesson to Power such as England is alone capable of giving, and which will long be remembered, to the honor of that great political safeguard, — that Life-preserver in stormy times, — the Trial by Jury. At the opening of the Session, Mr. Sheridan delivered his admirable answer to Lord Mornington, the report of which, as I have already said, was corrected for publication by himself In this fine speech, of which the greater part must have been unpre- pared, there is a natural earnestness of feeling and argument that is well contrasted with the able but artificial harangue that pre- ceded it. In referring to the details which Lord Mornington had entered into of the various atrocities committed in France, he says : — " But what was the sum of all that he had told the House ? that great nnd dreadful enormities had been committed, at which the heart shuddered, and which not merely wounded every feeling of humanity, but disgusted and sickened the soul. All this was most true ; but what did all this prove ? What, but that eternal and unalterable truth which had always presented itself to his mind, in whatever way he had viewed the subject, namely, that a long established despotism so far degraded and debased human na- ture, as to render it*; subjects, on the first recovery of their rights, unfit for the exercise of them But never had he, or would he meet but with re- RIGHT HON. EICHARD BRIKSLEY SaKRIDAiST. 179 probation that mode of argument which went, in fact, to establish, as an inference from this truth, that those who had been long slaves, ought there- fore to remain so for ever ! No ; the lesson ought to be. he would again repeat, a tenfold horror of that despotic form of government, which had 60 profaned and changed the nature of civilized man, and a still more jea- lous apprehension of any system tending to withhold the rights and liber- ties of our fellow-creatures. Such a form of government might be con- sidered as twice cursed ; while it existed, it was solely responsible for the miseries and calamities of its subjects ; and should a day of retribution come, and the tyranny be destroyed, it was equally to be charged with all the enormities which the folly or frenzy of those who overturned it should commit. '' But the madness of the French people was not confined to their pro- ceedings within their own country ; we, and all the Powers of Europe, had to dread it. True ; but was not this also to be accounted for ? Wild and unsettled as their state of mind was, necessarily, upon the events which had thrown such power so suddenly into their hands, the surrounding States had goaded them into a still more savage state of madness, fury, and des- peration. AVe had unsettled their reason, and then reviled their insanity ; we drove them to the extremities that produced the evils we arraigned ; we baited them like wild beasts, until at length we made them so. The conspiracy of Pilnitz, and the brutal threats of the Royal abettors of that plot against the rights of nations and of men, had, in truth, to answer for all the additional misery, horrors, and iniquity, which had since disgraced and incensed humanity. Such has been your conduct towards France, that you have created the passions which you persecute ; you mark a nation to be cut off from the world ; you covenant for their extermination ; you swear to hunt them in their inmost recesses ; you load them with every species of execration ; and you now come forth with whining declama- tions on the horror of their turning upon you with the fury which you in- spired.'' Having alluded to an assertion of Condorcet, quoted by Lord Mornington, that " Revolutions are always the work of the mino- rity," he adds livelily : — •' If this be true, it certainly is a most ominous thing for the enemies of Reform in England ; for, if it holds true, of necessity, that the minority still prevails, in national contests, it must be a consequence that the smaller the minority the more certain must be the success. In what a dreadful sit- uatic:> then must the Noble Lord be and all the Alarmists !— for, never surely was a minority so small, so thin in number as the present. Con- 180 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THil scions, however, that M. Condorcet was mistaken in our object, I am glad to find that we are terrible in proportion as we are few ; I rejoice that the liberality of secession which has thinned our ranks has only served to make us more formidable. The Alarmists will hear this with new apprehensions ; they will no doubt return to us with a view to diminish our force, and en- cumber us with their alliance in order to reduce us to insignificance." We have here another instance, in addition to the many that have been given, of the beauties that sprung up under Sheridan's cor- recting hand. This last pointed sentence was originally thus : " And we shall sw^ell our numbers in order to come nearer in a balance of insignificance to the numerous host of the majority." It was at this time evident that the great Whig Seceders would soon yield to the invitations of Mr. Pitt and the vehement per- suasions of Burke, and commit themselves still further with the Administration by accepting of office. Though the final arrange- ments to this effect w^ere not completed till the summer, on account of the lingering reluctance of the Duke of Portland and Mr. Windham, Lord Loughborough and others of the former Opposition had already put on the official livery of the Minister. It is to be regretted that, in almost all cases of conversion to the side of powder, the coincidence of some w^orldly advantage with the change should make it difficult to decide upon the sincerity or disinterestedness of the convert. That these Noble Whigs were sincere in their alarm there is no reason to doubt ; but the lesson of loyalty they have transmitted would have been far more edifying, had the usual corollary of honors and emoluments not followed, and had they left; at least one instance of political conversion on record, w^here the truth was its own sole reward, and the proselyte did not subside into the placeman. Mr. She- ridan w^as naturally indignant at these desertions, and his bitter- ness overflow's in many passages of the speech before us. ' Lord Mornington having contrasted the privations and sacrifices demanded of the French by their Minister of Finance with those required of the English nation, he says in answer : — *' The Noble Lord need not remind us, that there is no great danger of our Chancellor of the Exchequer making any such experiment. I can more RIGHT HOK. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 181 easily fancy another sort of speech for our prudent Minister. I can more easily conceive him modestly comparing himself and his own measures with the character and conduct of his rival, and saying, — ' Do I demand of you, wealthy citizens, to lend your hoards to Government without interest ? On the contrary, when I shall come to propose a loan, there is not a man of you to whom I shall not hold out at least a job in every part of the subscription, and an usurious profit upon every pound you devote to the necessities ot your country. Do I demand of you, my fellow-placemen and brother-pen- sioners, that you should sacrifice any part of your stipends to the public exigency ? On the contrary, am I not daily increasing your emoluments and your numbers in proportion as the country becomes unable to provide for you ? Do I require of you, my latest and most zealous proselytes, of you Avho have come over to me for the special purpose of supporting the war — a war, on the success of which you solemnly protest, that the salva- tion of Britain, and of civil society itself, depend — do I require of you, that you should make a temporary sacrifice, in the cause of human nature, of the greater part of your private incomes ? No, gentlemen, I scorn to take advantage of the eagerness of your zeal ; and to prove that I think the sincerity of your attachment to me needs no such test, I will make your interest co-operate with your principle : I will quarter many of you on the public supply, instead of calling on you to contribute to it ; and, while their whole thoughts are absorbed in patriotic apprehensions for their country, I will dexterously force upon others the favorite objects of the vanity or ambition of their lives.' * ♦ * * « ***** ***** " Good God, Sir, that he should have thought it prudent to have forced this contrast upon our attention ; that he should triumphantly remind us of everything that shame should have withheld, and caution would have buried in oblivion ! Will those who stood forth with a parade of disinter- ested patriotism, and vaunted of the sacrifices they had made, and the ex- posed situation tliey had chosen, in oi der the better to oppose the friends of Brissot in England — will they thank the Noble Lord for reminding us how soon these lofty professions dwindled into little jobbing pursuits for followers and dependents, as unfit to fill the offices procured for them, as the offices themselves were unfit to be created ? — Will the train of nev»'ly titled alarmists, of supernumerary negotiators, of pensioned paymasters, agents and commissaries, thank him for remarking to us how profitable their panic has been to themselves, and how expensive to their country ? What a contrast, indeed, do we exhibit ! — What ! in such an hour as this, at a moment pregnant with the national fate, v/hen, pressing as the exigency may be, the hard task of squeezing the money from the pockets of an im- poverished people, from the toll, the drudgery of the shivering poor, must tjiake the most practised collector's heart ache while he tears it from them 182 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE —can it be, that people of high rank, and professing high principles, that they or their families should seek to thrive on the spoils of misery, and fat- ten on the meals wrested from industrious poverty ? Can it be, that this should be the case with the very persons, who state the unprecedented peril of the country as the sole cause of their being found in tha ministerial ranks ? The Constitution is in danger, religion is in danger, the very existence of the nation itself is endangered ; all personal and party considerations ought to vanish ; the war irnst be supported by every possible exertion, and by every possible sacrifice ; the people must not murmur at their burdens, it is for their salvation, their all is at stake. The time is come, when all honest and disinterested men should rally round the Throne as round a standard ; — for what ? ye honest and disinterested men, to receive, for your own private emolument, a portion of those very taxes wrung from the peo- ple on the pretence of saving them from the poverty and distress which you say the enemy would inflict, but which you take care no enemy shall be able to aggravate. Oh! shame! shame! is this a time for selfish in- trigues, and the little dirty traffic for lucre and emolument ? Does it suit the honor of a gentleman to ask at such a moment ? Does it become the honesty of a Minister to grant ? Is it intended to confirm the pernicious doctrine, so industriously propagated by many, that all public men are impostors, and that every politician has his price ? Or even where there is no principle in the bosom, why does not prudence hint to the mercenary and the vain to abstain a while at least, and wait the fitting of the times ? Improvident impatience ! Nay, even from those who seem to have no di- rect object of office or profit, what is the language which their actions speak ? The Throne is in danger! — ' we will support the Throne ; but let us share the smiles of Royalty ;' — the order of Nobility is in danger! — • I will fight for Nobility,' says the Viscount, 'but my zeal would be much greater if I were made an Earl.' * Rouse all the Marquis within me,' ex- claims the Earl, ' and the peerage never turned forth a more undaunted champion in its cause than I shall prove.' ' Stain my green riband blue,' cries out the illustrious Knight, * and the fountain of honor will have a fast and faithful servant,' What are the people to think of our sincerity ? — What credit are they to give to our professions ? — Is this system to be per- severed in ? Is there nothing that whispers to that Right Honorable Gen- tleman that the crisis is too big, that the times are too gigantic, to be ruled by the little hackneyed and every-day means of ordinary corruption ?" The discussions, indeed, during the whole of this Session, were marked by a degree of personal acrimony, which in the present more sensitive times would hardly be borne. Mr. Pitt and Mr. Sheridan came, most of all, into collision; and the retorts of the RIGHT HON. RICHAED BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 183 Minister not unfrequently proved with what weight the haughty sarcasms of Power may descend even upon the tempered buck- ler of Wit. It wafe in this Session, and on the question of the Treaty with the King oi Sardinia, that Mr. Canning made his first appearance, as an orator, in the House. lie brought with him a fame, already full of promise, and has been one of the brightest ornaments of the senate and the country ever since. From the political faith in which he had been educated, under the very eyes of Mr. Sheridan, who had long been the friend of his family, and at whose house he generally passed his college vacations, the line that he was to take in the House of Commons seemed already, according to the usual course of events, marked out for him. Mr. Sheridan had, indeed, with an eagerness which, however premature, showed the value which he and others set upon the alliance, taken occasion in the course of a laudatory tribute to Mr. Jenkinson,* on the success of his first effort in the House, to announce the accession which his own party was about to receive, in the talents of another gentleman, — the companion and friend of the young orator who had now distinguished himself Whe- ther this and other friendships, formed by Mr. Canning at the University, had any share in alienating him from a political creed, which he had hitherto, perhaps, adopted rather from habit and authority than choice — or, whether he was startled at the idea of appearing for the first time in the world, as the announced pupil and friend of a person who, both by the vehemence of his politics and the irregularities of his life, had put himself, in some degree, under the ban of public opinion — or whether, lastly, he saw the difficulties which even genius like his would experience, in rising to the full growth of its ambition, under the shadowing branches of the Whig aristocracy, and that superseding influence of birth and connections, which had contributed to keep even such men as Burke and Sheridan out of the Cabinet — which of these motives it was that now decided the choice of the young political Her- cules, between the two paths that equally wooed his footsteps yione, perhaps, but himself can fully determine. His decisior^ ? Np\v Lord L yerpool. 184 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE we know, was in favor of the Minister and Toryism ; and, after a friendly and candid explanation to Sheridan of the. reasons and feelings that urged him to this step, he entered into terms with Mr. Pitt, and was by him immediately brought into Parliament. However dangerous it might be to exalt such an example into a precedent, it is questionable whether, in «thus resolving to join the ascendant side, Mr. Canning has not conferred a greater benefit on the country than he ever would have been able to effect in the ranks of his original friends. Tliat Party, which has now so long been the sole depository of the powder of the State, had, in addition to the orighial narrowness of its principles, contracted all that proud obstinacy, in antiquated error, which is the invariable characteristic of such monopolies; and which, however consonant with its vocation, as the chosen instrument of the Crown, should have long since invalided it in the service of a free and enlightened people. Some infusion of the spirit of the times into this body had become necessary, even for its own preservation, — in the same manner as the inhalement of youthful breath has been recommended, by some physicians, to the infirm and superannuated. This renovating inspiration the genius of Mr. Canning has supplied. His first political lessons were de- rived from sources too sacred to his young admiration to be forgotten. He has carried the spirit of these lessons with him into the councils which he joined, and by the vigor of the graft, which already, indeed, shows itself in the fruits, bids fair to change altogether the nature of Toryism. Among the eminent persons summoned as witnesses on the Trial of Home Tooke, which took place in November of this year, was Mr. Sheridan ; and, as his evidence contains some curious particulars, both with regard to himself and the state of political feeling in the year 1790, I shall here transcribe a part of it :— " He, (Mr. Sheridan,) said he recollects a meeting to celebrate the esta- blishment of liberty in France in the year 1790. Upon that occasion he moved a Resolution drawn up the day before by the Whig club. Mr. ^prpie Tooke, he says, made no objection to his motion; but proposed ap EIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 185 amendment. Mr. Tooke stated that an unqualified approbation of the French Revolution, in the terms moved, might produce an ill effect out of doors, a disposition to a revolution in this country, or, at least, be misrepre- sented to have that object ; he adverted to the circumstance of their hav- ing all of them national cockades in their hats 5 he proposed to add some qualifying expression to the approbation of the French Revolution, a de- claration of attachment to the principles of our own Constitution ; he said Mr. Tooke spoke in a figurative manner of the former Government of France ; he described it as a vessel so foul and decayed, that no repair could save it from destruction, that in contrasting our state with that, he said, thank God, the main timbers of our Constitution are sound ; he had before observed, however, that some reforms might be necessary ; he said that sentiment was received with great disapprobation, and w ith very rude interruption, insomuch that Lord Stanhope, who was in the chair, inter- fered ; he said it had happened to him, in many public meetings, to diifei with and oppose the prisoner, and that he has frequently seen him receiv- ed with very considerable marks of disapprobation, but he never saw them affect him much ; he said that he himself objected to Mr. Tooke's amend- ment ; he thinks he withdrew his amendment, and moved it as a separate motion ; he said it v/as then carried as unanimously as his own motion had been ; that original motion and separate motion are in these words: — ' That this meeting does most cordially rejoice in the establishment and confirma- tion of liberty in France ; and it beholds with peculiar satisfaction the senti- ments of amity and good will which appear to pervade the people of that country towards this kingdom, especially at a time when it is the manifest interest of both states that nothing should interrupt the harmony which at present subsists between them, and which is so essentially necessary to the freedom and happiness, not only of the French nation, but of all mankind.' ^' Mr. Tooke wished to add to his motion some qualifying clause, to guard against misunderstanding and misrepresentation : — that there was a wide difference between England and France ; that in France the vessel was so foul and decayed, that no repair could save it from destruction, whereas in England, we had a noble and stately vessel, sailing proudly on the bosom of the ocean ; that her main timbers w^ere sound, though it was true, after so long a course of years, she might want some repairs. Mr. Tooke's mo- tion was, — ' That we feel equal satisfaction that the subjects of England, by the virtuous exertions of their ancestors, have not so arduous a task to perform as the French have had, but have only to maintain and improve the Constitution which their ancestors have transmitted to them.'-^ This was carried unanimously.'^ The trial of Warren Hastings still " dragged its slow length 186 MEMOIES OF THE LIFE OF THE along," and in the May of this year Mr. Sheridan was called upon for his Reply on the Begum Charge. It was usual, on these oc- casions, for the Manager who spoke to be assisted by one of his brother Managers, whose task it was to carry the bag that con- tained his papers, and to read out whatever Minutes might be referred to in the course of the argument. Mr. Michael Angelo Taylor was the person who undertook this office for Sheridan ; but, on the morning of the speech, upon his asking for the bag that he was to carry, he was told by Sheridan that there was none — neither bag nor papers. They must manage, he said, as well as they could without them ; — and when the papers were called for, his friend must only put the best countenance he could upon it. As for himself, " he would abuse Ned Law — ridicule Plumer's long orations — make the Court laugh — please the women, and, in short, with Taylor's aid would get triumphantly through his task." His opening of the case was listened to with the profoundest atten- tion ; but when he came to contrast the evidence of the Com- mons with that adduced by Hastings, it was not long before the Chancellor interrupted him, with a request that the printed Min- utes to which he referred should be read. Sheridan answered that his friend Mr. Taylor would read them ; and Mr. Taylor affected to send for the bag, while the orator begged leave, in the meantime, to proceed. Again, however, his statements rendered a reference to the Minutes necessary, and again he was inter- rupted by the Chancellor, while an outcry after Mr. Sheridan's bag was raised in all directions. At first the blame was laid on the solicitor's clerk — then a messenger was dispatched to Mr. Sheridan's house. In the meantime, the orator was proceeding brilliantly and successfully in his argument ; and, on some fur- thei interruption and expostulation from the Chancellor, raised his voice and said, in a dignified tone, '' On the part of the Com- mons, and as a Manager of this Impeachment, I shall conduct my case as I think proper. I mean to be correct, and Your Lord- ships, having the printed Minutes before you, will afterwards see whether I am right or wrong." Puring the bustle produced by the inquiries after the bag, Mr. RIGHT HOK. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 187 Fox, alarmed at the mconvenienee which, he feared, the want of it might occasion Sheridan, ran up from the Managers' room, and demanded eagerly the cause of this mistake from Mr. Taylor; who, hiding his mouth with his hand, whispered him, (in a tone of which they alone, who have heard this gentleman relate the anecdote, can feel the full humor,) " The man has no bag !" The whole of this characteristic contrivance was evidently in- tended by Sheridan to raise that sort of surprise at the readiness of his resources, which it was the favorite triumph of his vanity to create. I have it on the authority of Mr. William Smythe, that, previously to the delivery of this speech, he passed two or three days alone at Wanstead, so occupied from morning till night in writing and reading of papers, as to complain in the evenings that he " had motes before his eyes." This mixture of real labor with apparent carelessness was, indeed, one of the most curious features of his life and character. Together with the political contests of this stormy year, he had also on his mind the cares of his new Theatre, which opened on the 21st of April, with a prologue, not by himself, as might have been expected, but by his friend General Fitzpatrick. He found time, however, to assist in the rapid manufacture of a little piece called " The Glorious First of June," which was acted im- mediately after Lord Howe's victory, and of which I have found some sketches* in Sheridan's hand-writing, — though the dialogue ♦ One of these is as follows :— " ScESTS I. — Miss Leake — Miss Decamp — Walsh. "Short dialogue— Nancy persuading Susan to go to the Fair, where there is an entertain ment to \je given by the Lord of the Manor — Susan melancholy because Henry, her lover, is at sea with the British Admiral — Song — Her old mother scolds from the cottage — her little brother (Walsh) comes from the house, with a message — laughs at his sister's fears and sings — Trio. ' ' ScEXE U.—The Fair . " Puppet-show — dancing bear— bells— hurdy-gurdy— recruiting party— song and chorus ''Ballet— WEgville. " Susan says she has no pleasure, and will go and take a solitary walk. " SCE.VE lU.— Dark Wood. * Sjisan — gipsy — tells her fortune — recitative and djlty. 188 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE was, no doubt, supplied (as Mr. Boaden says,) by Cobb, or some other such pedissequus of the Dramatic Muse. This piece was written, rehearsed, and acted within three days. The first opera- tion of Mr. Sheridan towards it was to order the mechanist of the theatre to get ready two fleets. It was in vain that ob- jections were started to the possibility of equipping these paste- board armaments in so short an interval — Lord Chatham's fa- mous order to Lord Anson was not more peremptory.* The two fleets were accordingly ready at the time, and the Duke of Clarence attended the rehearsal of their evolutions. This mix ture of the cares of the Statesman and the Manager is one of those whimsical peculiarities that made Sheridan's own life so dramatic, and formed a compound altogether too singular ever to occur again. " Scene IV. *' Sea-Fight— hell and the devil 1 *' Henry and Susan meet — Chorus introducing burden, "Rule Britannia." Among other occasional trifles of this kind, to which Sheridan condescended for the advantage of the theatre, was the pantomime of Robinson Crusoe, brought out, I believe, in 1781, of which he is understood to have been the author. There was a practical joke in this pantomime, (where, in pulling off a man's boot, the leg was pulled off with it,) which the famous Delpini laid claim to as his own, and publicly complained of Sheridan's having stolen it from him. The punsters of the day said it was claimed as literary property — being "in usum Delpini.^' Another of these inglorious tasks of the author of The School for Scandal, was the fur- nishing of the first outline or Programme of " The Forty Thieves." His brother-in-law, Ward, supplied the dialogue, and Mr. Colman was employed to season it with an infu- sion of jokes. The following is Sheridan's sketch of one of the scenes : — " Ali Baba. "Bannister called out of the cavern boldly by his son — comes out and falls on the ground a long time, not knowing him — says he would only have taken a little gold to keep off misery and save his son, &c. " Afterwards, when he loads his asses, his son remmdshim to be moderate — but it was a promise made to thieves — ' it gets nearer the owner, if taken from the stealer' — the son disputes this morality — ' they stole it, ergo^ they have no right to it ; and we steal it from the stealer, ergo^ our title is twice as bad as theirs.' " * For the expedition to the coast of France, after the Convention of Closter-seven. When he ordered the fleet to be equipped, and appointed the time and place of its ren- dezvous, Ix>rd Anson said it would be impossible to have it prepared so soon. " It may," said Mr. Pitt, " be done ; and if the ships are not ready at the time specified, I shall sig- nify Your Lordship's neglect to the King, and impeach you in the House of Commons." This intimation produced the desired effect : the ships were ready. See Anecdolep oi Lord Ctiatham, vol. i. HiGHT HON". RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 189 In the spring of the following year, (1795,) we find Mr. Sheri- dan paying that sort of tribute to the happiness of a first mar- riage which is implied by the step of entering into a second. The lady to whom he now united himself was Miss Esther Jane Ogle, daughter of the Dean of Winchester, and grand-daughter, by the mother's side, of the former Bishop of Winchester. We have here another proof of the ready mine of wealth which the theatre opened, — as in gratitude it ought, — to him who had en- dowed it with such imperishable treasures. The fortune of the lady being five thousand pounds, he added to it fifteen thousand more, which he contrived to raise by the sale of Drury-Lane shares ; and the whole of the sum was subsequently laid out in the purchase from Sir W. Geary of the estate of Polesden, in Surrey, near Leatherhead. The Trustees of this settlement were Mr. Grey, (now Lord Grey,) and Mr. Whitbread. To a man at the time of life which Sheridan had now at- tained — four years beyond that period, at which Petrarch thought it decorous to leave off writing love-verses* — a union with a young and accomplished girl, ardently devoted to him, must have been like a renewal of his own youth ; and it is, indeed, said by those who were in habits of intimacy with him at this period, that they had seldom seen his spirits in a state of more buoyant vivacity. He passed much of his time at the house of his father-in-law near Southampton ; — and in sailing about with his lively bride on the Southampton river, (in a small cutter called the Phsedria, after the magic boat in the " Fairy Queen,") forgot for a while his debts, his theatre, and his politics. It was on one of these occasions that my friend Mr. Bowles, who was a frequent companion of his parties,f wrote the following verses, which were much admired, as they well deserved to be, by Sheri- * See his Epistle, '' ad Poster itatem," where, after lamenting the many years which he had devoted to love, he adds : ' ' Mox vero ad qiuidragesimum annum appropinquans, dum adhuc et c «loris satis esset," &c. I Among other distinguished persons present at these excursions were Mr. Joseph Richardson, Dr. Howley, now Bishop of London, and Mis. Wilmot, now Lady Dacre, a lady, whose various talents, — not the less delightful fji being so feminine, — like the groupe of the Graces, reflect beauty on each other. 190 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE dan, for the sweetness of their thoughts, and the perfect muj?io of their rhythm • — ** Smooth went our boat upon the summer seas, Leaving, (for so it seem'd,) the world behind, Its cares, its sounds, its shadows : we reclin'd Upon the sungy deck, heard but the breeze That o'er us whispering pass'd or idly play'd With the lithe flag aloft. — A woodland scene On either side drew its slope line of green, And hung the water's shining edge with shade. Above the woods, Netley ! thy ruins pale Peer'd, as we pass'd ; and Vecta's* azure hue Beyond the misty castlef met the view ; Where in mid channel hung the scarce-seen sail So all was calm and sunshine as we went Cheerily o'er the briny element. Oh ! were this little boat to us the world, As thus we wander'd far from sounds of care, Circled with friends and gentle maidens fair. Whilst morning airs the waving pendant curl'd. How sweet were life's long voyage, till in peace We gain'd that haven still, where all things cease 1" The events of this year but added fresh impetus to that reac- tion upon each other of the Government and the People, which such a system of misrule is always sure to produce. Among the worst effects, as I have already remarked, of the rigorous policy adopted by the Minister, was the extremity to which it drove the principles and language of Opposition, and that sanc- tion which the vehement rebound against oppression of such in- fluencing spirits as Fox and Sheridan seemed to hold out to the obscurer and more practical assertors of freedom. This was at no time more remarkable than in the present Session, during the discussion of those arbitrary measures, the Treason and Se- dition Bills, when sparks were struck out, in the collision of the two principles, which the combustible state of public feeling at the moment rendered not a little perilous. On the motion that * Isle of Wight. t Kclshot Castle. HIGHT HON, BICHARD BPJNSLEY SHERIDAN. 191 the House should resolve itself into a Committee upon the Trea- son Bill, Mr. Fox said, that " if Ministers were determined, by means of the corrupt influence they already possessed in the two Houses of Parliament, to pass these Bills, in violent oppo- sition to the declared sense of the great majority of the nation, and they should be put in force with all their rigorous provi- sions, — if his opinion were asked by the people as to their obe- dience, he should tell them, that it was no longer a question of moral obligation and duty, but of prudence." Mr. Sheridan followed in the bold footsteps of his friend, and said, that " if a degraded and oppressed majority of the people applied to him, he would advise them to acquiesce in those bills only as long as resistance was imprudent." This language was, of course, visited with the heavy reprobation of the Ministry ;— but their own partisans had already gone as great lengths on the side of abso- lute power, and it is the nature of such extremes to generate each other. Bishop Horsley had preached the doctrine of passive obedience in the House of Lords, asserting that " man's abuse of his delegated authority is to be torne with resignation, like any other of God's judgments ; and that the opposition of the individual to the sovereign power is an opposition to God's pro- vidential arrangements." The promotion of the Right Reverend Prelate that followed, was not likely to abate his zeal in the cause of power ; and, accordingly, we find him in the present session declaring, in his place in the House of Lords, that " the people have nothing to do with the laws but to obey them." The government, too, had lately given countenance to writers, the absurd slavishness of whose doctrines would have sunk be- low contempt, but for such patronage. Among the ablest of them was Arthur Young, — one of those renegades from the cause of freedom, who, like the incendiary that set fire to the Temple with the flame he had stolen from its altar, turn the fame and the energies which they have acquired in defence of liberty against her. This gentleman, to whom his situation as Secretary to the Board of Agriculture afforded facilities for the circulation of his political heresies, did not scruple, in one of his 192 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF MS pamphlets, roundly to assert, that unequal representation, rotteii boroughs, long parliaments, extravagant courts, selfish Ministers, and corrupt majorities, are not only intimately interwoven with the practical freedom of England, but, in a great degree, the causes of it. But the most active and notorious of these patronized advo- :3ates of the Court was Mr. John Reeves, — a person who, in his capacity of President of the Association against Republicans and Levellers, had acted as a sort of Sub-minister of Alarm to Mr. Burke. In a pamphlet, entitled " Thoughts on the English Go- vernment," which Mr. Sheridan brought under the notice of the House, as a libel on the Constitution, this pupil of the school of Filmer advanced the startling doctrine that the Lords and Com- mons of England derive their existence and authority from the King, and that the Kingly government could go on, in all its functions, without them. This pitiful paradox found an apologist in Mr. Windham, whose chivalry in the new cause he had es- poused left Mr. Pitt himself at a wondering distance behind. His speeches in defence of Reeves, (which are among the proofs that remain of that want of equipoise observable in his fine, rather than solid, understanding,) have been with a judicious charity towards his memory, omitted in the authentic collection by Mr. Amyot. When such libels against the Constitution were not only pro- mulgated, but acted upon, on one side, it was to be expected, and hardly, perhaps, to be regretted, that the repercussfen shovild be heard loudly and warningly from the other. Mr. Fox, by a sub- sequent explanation, softened down all that was most menacing in his language ; and, though the word " Resistance," at full length, should, like the hand- writing on the wall, be reserved for the last intoxication of the Belshazzars of this world, a letter or two of it may, now and then, glare out upon their eyes, with- out producing any thing worse than a salutary alarm amid their revels. At all events, the high and constitutional grounds on which Mr. Fox defended the expressions he had hazarded, may \vell reconcile us to any risk incurred by their utterance. The klGB.T HON. BlCHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. l9S tribute to the house of Eussell, in the grand and simple passage beginning, " Dear to this country are the descendants of the illustrious Russell," is as applicable to that Noble family now as it was then ; and w^ill continue to be so, I trust, as long as a single vestige of a race, so pledged to the cause of liberty, re- mains. In one of Mr. Sheridan's speeches on the subject of Reeves's libel, there are some remarks on the character of the people of England, not only candid and just, but, as applied to them at that trying crisis, interesting : — '' Never was there," he said, " any country in which there was so much aljsence of public principle, and at the same time so many instances of pri- vate worth. Never Avas there so much charity and humanity towards the poor and the distressed ; any act of cruelty or oppression never failed to excite a sentiment of general indignation against its authors. It was a cir- cumstance peculiarly strange, that though luxury had arrived to such a pitch, it had so little effect in depraving the hearts and destroying the mo- rals of people in private life ; and almost every day produced some fresh example of generous feelings and noble exertions of benevolence. Yet amidst these phenomena of private virtue, it was to be remarked, that there was an almost total want of public spirit, and a most deplorable contempt of public principle. ******* Vv^hen Great Britain fell, the case would not be with her as with Rome in former times. Yv^hen Rome fell, she fell by the weight of her own vices. The inhabitants were so corrupted and degraded, as to be unworthy of a continuance of prosperity, and incapable to enjoy the blessings oi liberty ; their minds were bent to the state in Avhich a reverse of fortune placed them. But when Great Britain falls, she will fall with a people full of pri- va*-e worth and virtue ; she will be ruined by the profligacy of the gover- nors, and the security of her inhabitants, — the consequence of those per- nicious doctrines which have taught her to place a false confidence in her strength and freedom, and not to look with distrust and apprehension to the misconduct and corruption of those to whom she has trusted the ma- nagement of her resources." To this might have been added, that when Great Britain falls, it will not be from either ignorance of her rights, or insensibility to their value, but from that want of energy to assert them which a hic;h state of civilization produces. The love of ease that lux- vox.. II. 9 194 MEMOIES OF THE LIFE OF THE urj brings along with it, — the selfish and compromising spirit, in which the members of a polished society countenance each other, and which reverses the principle of patriotism, by sacri- ficing public interests to private ones, — the substitution of intel lectual for moral excitement, and the repression of enthusiasm by fastidiousness and ridicule, — these are among the causes that undermine a people, — that corrupt in the very act of enlighten- ing them ; till they become, what a French writer calls " esprits exigeans tt caracteies complaisans^^'' and the period in which theii rights are best understood may be that in which they most easily surrender them. It is, indeed, with the advanced age of free States, as with that of individuals, — they improve in the theory of their existence as they grow unfit for the practice of it ; till, at last, deceiving themselves with the semblance of rights gone by, and refining upon the forms of their institutions after they have lost the substance, they smoothly sink into slavery, with the lessons of liberty on their lips. Besides the Treason and Sedition Bills, the Suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act was another of the momentous questions which, in this as well as the preceding Session, were chosen as points of assault by Mr. Sheridan, and contested with a vigor and reiteration of attack, which, though unavailing against the massy majorities of the Minister, yet told upon public opinion so as to turn even defeats to account. The marriage of the Prince of Wales to the Princess Caroline of Brunswick having taken place in the spring of this year, it was proposed by His Majesty to Parliament, not only to provide an establishment for their Royal Highnesses, but to decide on the best manner of liquidating the debts of the Prince, which were calculated at 630,000/. On the secession of the leading Whigs, in 1792, His Royal Highness had also separated himself from Mr. Fox, and held no further intercourse either with him or any of his party, — except, occasionally, Mr. Sheridan, — till so late, I be- lieve, as the year 1798. The effects of this estrangement are sufficiently observable in the tone of the Opposition throughout the debates on the Message of the King. Mr. Grey said, that he HlGHT HON. KICHARD BKINSLEY SHERIDAjST. 195 would not oppose the granting of an establishment to the Prince equal to that of his ancestors ; but neither would he consent to the payment of his debts by Parliament. A refusal, he added, to liberate His Royal Highness from his embarrassments would certainly prove a mortification ; but it would, at the same time, awaken a just sense of his imprudence. Mr. Fox asked, " Was the Prince well advised in applying to that House on the subject of his debts, after the promise made in 1787?" — and Mr. She- ridan, while he agreed with his friends that the application should not have been made to Parliament, still gave it as his " positive opinion that the debts ought to be paid immediately, for the dig- nity of the country and the situation of the Prince, who ought not to be seen rolling about the streets, in his state-coach, as an insolvent prodigal." With respect to the promise given in 1787, and now violated, that the Prince would not again apply to Par- liament for the payment of his debts, Mr. Sheridan, with a com- municativeness that seemed hardly prudent, put the House in possession of some details of the transaction, w^hich, as giving an insight into Royal character, are worthy of being extracted. " In 1787, a pledge was given to the House that no more debts should be contracted. By that pledge the Prince was bound as much as if he had given it knowingly and voluntarily. To attempt any explanation of it now would be unworthy of his honor, — as if he had suffered it to be wrung from him, with a view of afterwards pleading that it was against his better judgment, in order to get rid of it. He then advised the Prince not to make any such promise, because it was not to be expected that he could himselt enforce the details of a system of economy ; and, although he had men of honor and abilities about him, he was totally unprovided with men of bu- siness, adequate to such a task. The Prince said he could not give such a pledge, and agree at the same time to take back his establishment. He (Mr. Sheridan) drew up a plan of retrenchment, which was approved of by the Prince, and afterwards by His Majesty ; and the Prince told him that the promise was not to be insisted upon. In the King's Message, however, the promise was inserted, — by whose advice he knew not. He heard it read with surprise, and, on being asked next day by the Prince to contradi3t It in his place, he inquired Vvhether the Prince had seen the Message before it was brought down. Being told that it had been read to him, but that he did not understand it as containing a promise, he declined contradicting it, 196 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THfi and told the Prince that he must abide by it, in whatever way it might have been obtained. By the plan then settled, Ministers had a check upon the Prince's expenditure, which they never exerted, nor enforced adherence to the plan. ************ While Ministers never interfered to check expenses, of which they could not pretend ignorance, the Prince had recourse to means for relieving him- self from his embarrassments, which ultimately tended to increase thera. It was attempted to raise a loan for him in foreign countries, a measure which he thought unconstitutional, and put a stop to ; and, after a con- sultation with Lord Loughborough, all the bonds were burnt, although with a considerable loss to the Prince. After that, another plan of re- trenchment was proposed, upon which he had frequent consultations with Lord Thurlow, who gave the Prince fair, open, and manly advice. That No- ble Lord told the Prince, that, after the promise he had made, he must not think of applying to Parliament ; — that he must avoid being of any party in politics, but, above all, exposing himself to the suspicion of being influ- enced in political opinion by his embarrassments ; — that the only course he could pursue with honor, was to retire from public life for a time, and ap- propriate the greater part of his income to the liquidation of his debts. This plan was agreed upon in the autum of 1792. Why, it might be asked, was it not carried into effect ? About that period his Royal Highness be- gan to receive unsolicited advice from another quarter. He was told by Lord Loughborough, both in words and in writing, that the plan savored too much of the advice given to M. Egalite, and he could guess from what quarter it came. For his own part, he was then of opinion, that to have avoided meddling in the great political questions which were then coming to be discussed, and to have put his affairs in a train of adjustment, would have better become his high station, and tended more to secure public re- spect to it, than the pageantry of state-liveries," The few occasions on which the name of Mr. Sheridan was aijain connected with literature, after the final investment of his genius in political speculations, were such as his fame might have easily dispensed \vdth ; — and one of them, the forgery of the Shak spear e papers, occurred in the course of the present year. Whether it was that he looked over these manuscripts wi'.h the eye more of a manager than of a critic, and considered rather to what account the belief in their authenticity might be turned, than how far it was founded upon internal evidence ; — or whether, as Mr. Ireland asserts, the standard at which he rated the genius of Shakspeare was not so high as to inspire him with a very RIGHT HON. KICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 197 watchful fastidiousness of judgment ; certain it is that he was, in some degree, the dupe of this remarkable imposture, which, as a lesson to the self-confidence of criticism, and an exposure of the fallibility of taste, ought never to be forgotten in literary history. The immediate payment of 300/. and a moiety of the profits for the first sixty nights, were the terms upon Avhich Mr. Sheri- dan purchased the play of Vortigern from the Irelands. The latter part of the conditions w\as voided the first night ; and, though it is more than probable that a genuine tragedy of Shak- speare, if presented under similar circumstances, would have shared the same fate, the public enjoyed the credit of detecting and condemning a counterfeit, w^hich had passed current through some of the most learned and tasteful hands of the day. It is but justice, however, to Mr. Sheridan to add, that, accordhig to the account of Ireland himself, he was not altogether wn'thout misgivings during his perusal of the manuscripts, and that his name does not appear among the signatures to that attestation of their authenticity which his friend Dr. Parr drew up, and was himself the first to sign. The curious statement of Mr. Ireland, with respect to Sheridan's want of enthusiasm for Shakspeare, receives some confirmation from the testimony of Mr. Boaden, the biographer of Kemble, who tells us that " Kemble frequently expressed to him his wonder that Sheridan should trouble him- self so little about Shakspeare." This peculiarity of taste, — if it really existed to the degree that these two authorities would lead us to infer, — afibrds a remarkable coincidence with the opinions of another illustrious genius, lately lost to the w^orld, whose ad- miration of the great Demiurge of the Drama w^as leavened with the same sort of heresy. In the January of this year, Mr. William Stone — the brother of the gentleman whose letter from Paris has been given in a preceding Chapter — was tried upon a charge of High Treason, and Mr. Sheridan was among the witnesses summoned for the prosecution. He had already in the year 1794, in consequence of a reference from Mr. Stone himself, been examined before the Privy Council, relative to a conversation which he had held with 198 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OP THE rJiat gentleman, and, on the day after his examination, had, at the request of Mr. Dundas, transmitted to that Minister in writ- ing the particulars of his testimony before the Council. There is among his papers a rough draft of this Statement, in compar- infr which with his evidence upon the trial in the present year, I fmd rather a curious proof of the fliithlessness of even the best memories. The object of the conversation which he had held with Mr. Stone in 1794 — and which constituted the whole of their intercourse with each other — was a proposal on the part of the latter, submitted alsD to Lord Lauderdale and others, to ex- ert his influence in France, through those channels which his brother's residence there opened to him, for the purpose of avert- ing the threatened invasion of England, by representing to the French rulers the utter hopelessness of such an attempt. Mr. Sheridan, on the trial, after an ine^ectual request to be allowed to refer to his written Statement, gave tne following as part of Kis recollections of the conversation : — " Mr. Stone stated that, in order to efifect this purpose, he had endea- vored to collect the opinions of several gentlemen, political characters in this country, whose opinions he thought would be of authority sufiScient to advance his object ; that for this purpose he had had interviews with different gentlemen ; he named Mr. Smith and, I think, one or two more, whose names I do not now recollect. He named some gentlemen connect- ed with Administration — if the Counsel will remind me of the name " Here Mr. Law, the examining Counsel, remarked, that " upon the cross-examination, if the gentlemen knew the circumstance, they w^ould mention it." The cross-examination of Sheridan by Sergeant Adair w^as as follows : — " You stated in the course of your examination that Mr. Stone said there was a gentleman connected with Government, to whom he had made a fiimilar communication, should you recollect the name of that person if you were reminded of it^— I certainly should. — Was it General Murray? — Ge- neral Murray certainly.'^ Notwithstanding this, however, it appears from the written Statement in my possession, d***»wn up soon after the conversa RIGHT HO^^. EIOHAPvD BKINSLEY SHERIDAN. 199 tloii in question, that this "gentleman connected with Govern- ment," so difficult to be remembered, was no other than the Prime Minister, Mr. Fitt himself. So little is the memory to be relied upon in evidence, particularly when absolved from re- sponsibility by the commission of its deposit to writing. The conduct of Mr. Sheridan throughout this transaction appears to have been sensible and cautious. That he was satisfied with it himself may be collected from the conclusion of his letter to Mr. Dundas : — " Under the circumstances in which the applica- tion, (from Mr. Dundas,) has been made to me, I have thought it equally a matter of respect to that application and of respect to myself, as well as of justice to the person under ^suspicion, to give this relation more in detail than at first perhaps might ap- pear necessary. My own conduct in the matter not being in question, I can only say that were a shnilar case to occur, I think 1 should act in every circumstance precisely in the manner I did on this occasion." The parliamentary exertions of Mr. Sheridan this year, though various and active, were chiefly upon subordinate ques- tions ; and, except in the instance of Mr. Fox's Motion of Cen- sure upon Ministers for advancing money to the Emperor with- out the consent of Parliament, were not distinguished by any signal or sustained displays of eloquence. The grand questions, indeed, connected with the liberty of the subject, had been so hotly contested, that but few new grounds were left on which to renew the conflict. Events, however, — the only teachers of the great mass of mankind, — were beginning to eflfect what eloquence had in vain attempted. The people of England, though general- ly eager for war, are seldom long in discovering that " the cup but sparkles near the brim ;" and in the occurrences of the fol- lowing year they were made to taste the full bitterness of the draught. An alarm for the solvency of the Bank, an impend- nig invasion, a mutiny in the fleet, and an organized rebellion in Ireland, — such were the fruits of four years' warfare, and they were enough to stai'tle even the most sanguine and precipitate into reflection. 200 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE The conduct of Mr. Sheridan on the breaking out of the Mu tiny at the Nore is too well known and appreciated to require any illustration here. It is placed to his credit on the page of history, and was one of the happiest impulses of good feeling and good sense combined, that ever public man acted upon in a situation demanding so much of both. The patriotic prompti- tude of his interference was even more striking than it appeal^ in the record of his parliamentary labors ; for, as I have heard at but one remove from his own authority, while the Ministry were yet hesitating as to the steps they should take, he went to Mr. Dun das and said, — " My advice is that you cut the buoys on the river — send Sir Charles Grey down to the coast, and set a price on Parker's head. If the Administration take this ad- vice instantly, they will save the country — if not, they will lose it ; and, on their refusal, I w^ill impeach them in the House of Commons this very evening." Without dwelling on the contrast which is so often drawn — less w^ith a view to elevate Sheridan than to depreciate his party — betw^een the conduct of himself and his friends at this fearful crisis, it is impossible not to concede that, on the scale of public spirit, he rose as far superior to them as the great claims of the general safety transcend all personal considerations and all party ties. It was, indeed, a rare triumph of temper and sagacity. With less temper, he would have seen in this awful peril but an occasion of triumph over the Minister whom he had so long been struggling to overturn — and, with less sagacity, he would have thrown away the golden opportunity of establishing himself for ever in the affections and the memories of Englishmen, as one whose heart was in the common- weal, whatever might be his opinions, and who, in the moment of peril, could sink the partisan in the patriot. As soon as he had performed this exemplary duty, he joined Mr. Fox and the rest of his friends who had seceded from Par- liament about a week before, on the verv day after the rejection of Mr. Grey's motion for a reform. This step, which was intend- ed to create a strong sensation, hy hoisting, as it were, the signal RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 201 of despair to the country, was followed by no such striking ef- fects, and left little behind but a question as to its prudence and patriotism. The public saw, however, with pleasure, that there w^ere still a few champions of the constitution, who did not '• leave her fair side all unguarded'* in this extremity. Mr. Tierney, among others, remained at his post, encountering Mr. l^itt on financial questions with a vigor and address to which the latter had been hitherto unaccustomed, and perfecting by practice that shrewd power of analysis, which has made him so formidable a sifter of ministerial sophistries ever since. Sir Francis Burdett, too, was just then entering into his noble career of patriotism ; and, like the youthful servant of the temple in Euripides, was aiming his first shafts at those unclean birds, that settle within the sanctuary of the Constitution and sully its treasures : — " flrrigvojv TaycCKag 'A iSXantr^dix By a letter from the Earl of Moira to Col. M'Mahon in the summer of this year it appears, that in consequence of the calami- tous state of the country, a plan had been in agitation among some members of the House of Commons, who had hitherto supported the measures of the Minister, to form an entirely new Adminis- tration, of which the Noble Earl was to be the head, and from which both Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox, as equally obnoxious to the public, were to be excluded. The only materials that appear to have been forthcoming for this new Cabinet were Lord Moira himself. Lord Thurlow, and Sir William Pulteney — the last of whom it was intended to make Chancellor of the Exchequer. Such a tottering balance of parties, however, could not have been long maintained ; and its relapse, after a short interval, into Tory- ism, would but have added to the triumph of Mr. Pitt, and in- creased his power. Accordingly Lord Moira, who saw from the beginning the delicacy and difficulty of the task, wisely abandoned it. The share that Mr. Sheridan had in this transaction is too VOL. II, 9* 202 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE honorable to him not to be recorded, and the particulars cannot be better given than in Lord Moira's own words : — ^' You say that Mr. Sheridan has been traduced, as wishing to abandon Mr. Fox, and to promote a new Administration. I had accidentally a con- Tcrsation with that gentleman at the House of Lords. I remonstrated strongly with him against a principle which I heard Mr. Fox's friends in- tended to lay down, namely, that they would support a new Administration, but that not any of them would take part in it. I solemnly declare, upon my honor, that I could not shake Mr. Sheridan's conviction of the pro- priety of that determination. He said that he and Mr. Fox's other friends, as well as Mr. Fox himself, would give the most energetic support to such an Administration as was in contemplation ; but that their acceptance of of- fice would appear an acquiescence under the injustice of the interdict sup- posed to be fixed upon Mr. Fox. I did not and never can admit the fairness of that argument. But I gained nothing upon Mr. Sheridan, to whose up- rightness in that respect I can therefore bear the most decisive testimony. Indeed I am ashamed of offering testimony, where suspicion ought not to have been conceived.' RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 203 CHAPTER VIII. PLAY OF ^*THE STRANGER." — SPEECHES IN PARLIAMENT. — PIZARRO. — MINISTRY OF MR. ADDINGTON. — FRENCH INSTITUTE. — NEGOTIATION WITH MR. KEMBLE. The theatrical season of 1798 introduced to the public the German drama of " The Stranger," translated by Mr. Thomp- son, and (as we are told by this gentleman in his preface) altered and improved by Sheridan. There is reason, however, to believe that the contributions of the latter to the dialogue were nuch more considerable than he was perhaps willing to let the translator acknowledge. My friend Mr. Rogers has heard him, on two different occasions, declare that he had written every wor.d of the Stranger from beginning to end ; and, as his vanity could not be much interested in such a claim, it is possible that there was at least some virtual foundation for it. The song introduced in this play, " I have a silent sorrow here," was avowedly written by Sheridan, as the music of it was by the Duchess of Devonshire — two such names, so brilliant in their respective spheres, as the Muses of Song and Verse have seldom had the luck to bring together. The originality of these lines has been disputed ; and that expedient of borrowing which their author ought to have been independent of in every way, is supposed to have been resorted to by his indolence on this occa- sion. Some verses by Tickell are mentioned as having supplied one of the best stanzas ; but I am inclined to think, from the following circumstances, that this theft of Sheridan was of that venial and domestic kind — from himself. A writer, who brings forward the accusation in the Gentleman's Magazine, (vol. Ixxi. p. 904,) thus states his grounds : — " In a song which I purchased at Bland's music-shop in Holborn in the 204 MEMOIKS OF THE LIFE OF THE year 1794, intitled, ' Think not, my love,' and professing to be set to music by Thomas Wright, (I conjecture, Organist of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, and composer of the pretty Opera called Rusticity,) are the following words :— The song to which the writer alludes, " Think not, my love,'^ was given to me, as a genuine production of Mr. Sheridan, by a gentleman nearly connected with his family ; and I have little doubt of its being one of those early love-strains which, in his tcynpo de' dolci sosinri^ he addressed to Miss Linley. As, there- fore, it was but " a feather of his own" that the eagle made free with, he may be forgiven. The following is the whole of the song : — " ' This treasured grief, this loved despair, My lot forever be ; But, dearest, may the pangs I bear Be never known to thee !' "Now, without insisting that the opening thought in Mr. Sheridan's famous song has been borrowed from that of ' Think not, my love,' the second verse is manifestly such a theft of the lines I have quoted as entirely overturns Mr. Sheridan's claim to originality in the matter, unless ' Think not, my love,' has been written by him, and he can be proved to have only stolen from himself." " Think not, my love, when secret grief Preys on my saddened heart, Think not I wish a mean relief, Or would from sorrow part. *' Dearly I prize the sighs sincere, That my true fondness prove, Nor would I wish to check the tear, That fiow^s from hapless love ! '* Alas ! tho' doom'd to hope in vain The joys that love requite. Yet will I cherish all its pain, With sad, but dear delight. ** This treasur'd grief, this lov'd despair My lot for ever Ijc ; But, dearest, may the pangs I bear Be never known to thee I'' HTGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAIST. 20S Among the political events of this year, the rebellion of Ire- land holds a memorable and fearful pre-eminence. The only redecTTiing stipulation which the Duke of Portland and his broth- er Alarmists had annexed to their ill-judged Coalition with Mr. Pitt was, that a system of conciliation and justice should, at last, be adopted towards Ireland. Had they but carried thus much wisdom into the ministerial ranks with them, their defection might have been pardoned for the good it achieved, and, in one respect at least, would have resembled the policy of those Missionaries, who join in the ceremonies of the Heathen for the purpose of winning him over to the truth. On the contrary, however, the usual consequence of such coalitions with Power ensued, — the good was absorbed in the evil principle, and, by the false hope which it created, but increased the mischief Lord Fitzwilliam was not only deceived himself, but, still worse to a noble and benevolent nature like his, was made the instrument of deception and mockery to millions. His recall, in 1795, assisted by the measures of his successor, drove Ireland into the rebellion which raged during the present year, and of which the causes have been so little removed from that hour to this, that if the, people have become too wise to look back to it, as an example, it is assuredly not because their rulers have much profited by it as a lesson. I am aware that, on the subject of Ireland and her wrongs, I can ill trust myself vfith the task of expressing what I feel, or preserve that moderate^ historical tone, which it has been my wish to maintain through the political opinions of this work. On every other point, my homage to the high character of England, and of her institutions, is prompt and cordial ; — on this topic alone, my feelings towards her have been taught to wear " the badge of bitterness." As a citizen of the world, I would point to England as its brightest ornament, — but, as a disfranchised Irishman, I blush to belong to her. Instead, therefore, of hazard- ing any farther reflections of my own on the causes and character of the Rebellion of 1798, I shall content myself with giving an extract from a Speech which Mr. Sheridan delivered on the sub- ject, in the June of that year : — '106 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF tHE •' What ! when conciliatiDn was held out to the people of Ireland, was there any discontent ? AVhen the government of Ireland was agree? ble to the people, was there any discontent ? After the prospect of that concilia- tion was taken away, — after Lord Fitzwilliam was recalled, — after the liope« which had been raised were blasted, — when the spirit of the people was beaten down, insulted, despised, I will ask any gentleman to point out 9 single act of conciliation which has emanated from the Government of Ireland? On the contrary ; has not that country exhibited one continual Bcene of the most grievous oppression, of the most vexatious proceedings ; arbitrary punishments inflicted ; torture declared necessary by the highest authority in the sister-kingdom next to that of the legislature ? And do gentlemen say that the indignant spirit which is roused by such exercise 3f government is unprovoked ? Is this conciliation *? Is this lenity ? Has everything been done to avert the evils of rebellion ? It is the fashion to say, and the Address holds the same language, that the rebellion which now rages in the sister-kingdom has been owing +o the machinations of * wicked men.' Agreeing to the amendment proposed, it was my first in- tention to move that these words should be omitted. But, Sir, the fact they assert is true. It is, indeed, to the measures of wicked men that the deplorable state of Ireland is to be imputed. It is to those wicked Minis- ters who have broken the promises they held out, who betrayed the party they seduced into their views, to be the instruments of the foulest treache- ry that ever was practised against any people. It is to those wicked Ministers who have given up that devoted country to plunder, — resigned it a prey to this faction, by which it has so long been trampled upon, and abandoned it to every species of insult and oppression by which a country was ever overwhelmed, or the spirit of a people insulted, that we owe the miseries into which Ireland is plunged, and the dangers by which England is threatened. These evils are the doings of wicked Ministers, and applied to them, the language of the Address records a fatal and melancholy truth.'' The popularity which the condact of Mr. Sheridan, on the occasion of the Mutiny, had acquired for him, — everywhere but among his own immediate party, — seems to have produced a sort of thaw in the rigor of his opposition to Government ; and the language which he now began to hold, with respect to the power and principles of France, was such as procured for him, more than once in the course of the present Session, the unaccus- tomed tribute of compliments from the Treasury-bench. With- out, in the least degree, questioning his sincerity in this change h J^IGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN-. 20< of tone, it may be remarked, that the most watchful observer of the tide of public opinion could not have taken it at the turn more seasonably or skilfully. There was, indeed, just at this time a sensible change m the feeling of the country. The dan- gers to which it had been reduced were great, but the crisis seem- ed over. The new wings lent to Credit by the paper-currency, — the return of the navy to discipline and victory, — the disen- chantment that had taken place with respect to French principles, and the growing persuasion, since strengthened into conviction, that the world has never committed a more gross mistake than in looking to the French as teachers of liberty, — the insulting reception of the late pacific overtures at Lisle, and that never- failing appeal to the pride and spirit of Englishmen, which a threat of invading their sacred shore brings with itr, — all these causes concurred, at this moment, to rally the people of England round the Government, and enabled the Minister to extract from the very mischiefs which himself had created the spirit of all others most competent to bear and surmount them. Such is the elasticity of a free country, however, for the moment, misgovern- ed, — and the only glory due to the Minister under whom such a people, in spite of misgovernment, flourishes, is that of having proved, by the experiment, how difficult it is to ruin them. While Mr. Sheridan took these popular opportunities of occa- sionally appearing before the public, Mr. Fox persevered, with but little interruption, in his plan of secession from Parliament altogether. From the beginning of the Session of this year, when, at the instance of his constituents, he appeared in his place to oppose the Assessed Taxes Bill, till the month of February, 1800, he raised his voice in the House but upon two questions, — each " dignus vindice," — the Abolition of the Slave-Trade, and a Change of System in Ireland. He had thrown into his opposition too much real feeling and earnestness to be able, like Sheridan, to soften it down, or shape it to the passing temper of the times. In the harbor of private life alone could that swell subside; and, however the country missed his warning eloquence, there is little doubt that his own mind and heart w^ere gainers by a retirement, 208 MEMOIKS OF THE LIFE OF THfe « in which he had leisure to " prune the rufTled \dngs" of his bene volent spirit, — to exchange the ambition of being great for that of being useful, and to listen, in the stillness of retreat, to the lessons of a mild wisdom, of which, had his life been piolonged, his cou]] try would have felt the full influence. From one of Sheridan's speeches at this time we find that the change which had lately taken place in his public conduct had given rise to some unworthy imputations upon his motives. There are few things less politic in an eminent public man than a too great readiness to answer accusations against his character. For, as he is, in general, more extensively read or heard than his accusers, the first intimation, in most cases, that the public re- ceives of any charge against him will be from his own answer to it. Neither does the evil rest here ; — for the calumny remains embalmed in the defence, long after its own ephemeral life is gone. To this unlucky sort of sensitiveness Mr. Sheridan was but too much disposed to give way, and accordingly has been himself the chronicler of many charges against him, of which we should have been otherwise wholly ignorant. Of this nature were the imputations founded on his alleged misunderstanding with the Duke of Portland, in 1789, to which I have already made some allusion, and of which we should have known nothing but for his own notice of it. His vindication of himself, in 1795. from the suspicion of being actuated by self-interest, in his connection with the Prince, or of having received from him, (to use his own expressions,) " so much as the present of a horse or a picture," is another instance of the same kind, where he has given substance and perpetuity to rumor, and marked out the track of an obscure calumny, which would otherwise have been forgotten. At the period immediately under our consideration he has equally ena- bled us to collect, from his gratuitous defence of himself, that the line lately taken by him in Parliament, on the great questions of the Mutiny and Invasion, had given rise to suspicions of his poli- tical steadiness, and to rumors of his approaching separation from Mr. Fox. " I am sorry/' he said, on one occasion, " that it is hardly possible for MGHT HON. RICHAilD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 209 any man to speak in this House, and to obtain credit for speaking from a principle of public spirit ; that no man can oppose a Minister without being accused of faction, and none, who usually opposed, can support a Minister, or lend him assistance in anything, without being accused of doing so from interested motives. I am not such a coxcomb as to say, that it is of much importance what part I may tak3 : or that it is essential that I should divide a little popularity, or some emolument, with the ministers of the Crown ; nor am I so vain as to imagine, that my services might be solicited. Cer- tainly they have not. That might have arisen from want of importance in myself, or from others, whom I have been in the general habit of opposing, conceiving that I was not likely either to give up my general sentiments, or my personal attachments. However that may be, certain it is, they never have made any attempt to apply to me for my assistance.'^ In reviewing his parliamentary exertions during this year, it would be injustice to pass over his speech on the Assessed Taxes Bill, in which, among other fine passages, the following vehement burst of eloquence occurs : " But we have gained, forsooth, several ships by the victory of the First of June, — by the capture of Toulon, — by the acquisition of those charnel- houses in the West Indies, in which 50.000 men have been lost to this country. Consider the price which has been paid for these successes. For these boasted successes. I will say, give me back the blood of Englishmen which has been shed in this fatal contest, — give me back the 250 millions of debt which it has occasioned, — give me back the honor of the country which has been tarnished,— give me back the credit of the country, which has been destroyed, — give me back the solidity of the Bank of England, which has been overthrown ; the attachment of the people to their ancient Constitution, which has been shaken by acts of oppression an«l tyrannical laws, — give me back the kingdom of Ireland, the connection of which is endangered by a cruel and outrageous system of military coercion.— give me back that pledge of eternal war, which must be attended with inevita- ble ruin !'' The great success which had attended The Stranger, and the still incTeasing taste for the German Drama, induced Mr. Sheri- dan, in the present year, to embark his fame even still more re^ sponsibly in a venture to the same roma^ntic shores. The p!ay of Pizarro was brought out on the 24th of May, J 799. The he- ro^.c interest of the plot, the splendor of the pageantry, and some 2iO MEMOIRS OF THE LIFfe OF *HB skilful appeals to public feeling in the dialogue, obtained for it at once a popularity which has seldom been equalled. As far, indeed, as niultiplied representations and editions are a proof of success, the legitimate issue of his Muse might well have been jealous of the fame and fortune of their spurious German relative. When the author of the Critic made Puff say, ''Now for my magnificence, — my noise and my procession !" he little anticipated the illustration which, in twenty years afterw^ards, his own ex- ample w^ould afford to that ridicule. Not that in pageantry, when tastefully and subordinately introduced, there is any thing to which criticism can fairly object : — it is the dialogue of this play that is unworthy of its author, and ought never, from either mo- tives of profit or the vanity of success, to have been coupled with his name. The style in w^hich it is written belongs neither to verse nor prose, but is a sort of amphibious native of both, — nei- ther gliding gracefully through the former element, nor walking steadily on the other. In order to give pomp to the language, inversion is substituted for metre ; and one of the worst faults of poetry, a superfluity of epithet, is adopted, without that har- mony which alone iiakes it venial or tolerable. It is some relief, however, to discover, from the manuscripts in my possession, that Mr. Sheridan's responsibility for the defects of Pizarro is not very much greater than his claim to a share in its merits. In the plot, and the arrangement of the scenes, it is well knbw^n, there is but little alteration fi'om the German origi- nal. The omission of the comic scene of Diego, which Kotzebue himself intended to om^it, — the judicious suppression of Elvira's love for Alonzo, — the introduction, so striking in representation, of Holla's passage across the bridge, and the re-appearance of El- vira in the habit of a nun, form, I believe, the only important points in which the play of Mr. Sheridan deviates from the struc- ture of the original drama. With respect to the dialogue, his share in its composition is reducible to a compass not much more considerable. A few speeches, and a few short scenes, re-written, constitute almost the whole of the contribution he has furnished to it. The manuscript-translation, or rather imitation, of the HIGHT flOI^. mCHARD BRIKSLEY SfiERIBAK 211 " Spaniards in Peru," which he used as the ground- work of Pi- zarro, has been preserved among liis papers : — and, so convenient was it to his indolence to take the style as he found it, that, ex- cept, as I have said, in a few speeches and scenes, which might be easily enumerated, he adopted, with scarcely any alteration, ths exact words of the translator, whose taste, therefore, (whoever hs may have been,) is answerable for the spirit and style of three- fourths of the dialogue. Even that scene where Cora describes the " white buds" and " crimson blossoms" of her infant's teeth, which I have often heard cited as a specimen of Sheridan's false ornament, is indebted to this unknown paraplirast for the whole of its embroidery. But though he is found to be innocent of much of the contra- band matter, with which his co-partner in this work had already vitiated it, his own contributions to the dialogue are not of a much higher or purer order. He seems to have written down to the model before him, and to have been inspired by nothing but an emulation of its faults. His style, accordingly, is kept hovering in the same sort of limbo, between blank verse and prose, — while his thoughts and images, however shining and effective on the stage, are like the diamonds of theatrical royalty, and will not bear inspection off it. The scene between Alonzo and Pizarro, in the third act, is one of those almost entirely re- written by Sheridan ; and the following medley groupe of per- sonifications affords a specimen of the style to which his taste could descend : — / " Then would I point out to him where now, in clustered villages, they live like brethren, social and confiding, while through the burning day Content sits basking on the cheek of Toil, till laughing Pastime leads them to the hour of rest." The celebrated harangue of Rolla to the Peruvians, into which Kemble used to infuse such heroic dignity, is an amplification of the following sentences of the original, as I find them given in Lewis's manuscript translation of the play : — " Rolla* You Spaniards fight for gold ; we for our country. 2V2 MKMOTRS OF THE LIFE OF THE '' Alonzc They follow an adventurer to the field ; we a monarcli whom we love. *' Atalio. And a god whom we adore !" This cipeedi, to whose popular sentiments the play owed much of its s^access, was chiefly made up by Sheridan of loans from his own oratory. The image of the Vulture and the Lamb was taken, as I have already remarked, from a passage in his speech on the trial of Hastings ; — and he had, on the subject of hiva- sion, in the preceding year, (1798.) delivered more tnan once the substance of those patriotic sentiments, which were now so spirit-stirring in the mouth of Rolla. For instance, on the King's Message relative to preparation for Invasion : — '' The Directory may instruct their guards to make the fairest profes- sions of how their army is to act ; but of these professions surely not one can be believed. The victorious Buonaparte may say that he comes like a minister of grace^ with no other purpose than to give peace to the cottager, to restore citizens to their rights, to establish real freedom, and a liberal and humane government. But can there be an Englishman so stupid, so besotted, so befooled, as to give a moment's credit to such ridiculous pro- fessions ?..... ^Vhat, then, is their object ? They come for what they really want : they come for ships, for commerce, for credit, ^d for capital. Yes ; they come for the sinews, the bones — for the marrow and the very heart's blood of Great Britain. But let us examine what we are to purchase at this price. Liberty, it appears, is now their staple commodity : but at- tend, I say, and examine how little of real liberty they themselves enjoy, who are sc forward and prodigal in bestowing it on others." The speech of Rolla in the prison-scene is also an interoolation of his own, — Kotzebue having, far more judiciously, (considering the unfitness of the moment for a tirade^ condensed the refleC' tions of Rolla into the short exclamation, " Oh, sacred Nature ! thou art still true to thyself," and then made him hurry into the prison to his friend. Of the translation of this play by Lewis, which has been found among the papers, Mr. Sheridan does not appear to have made any use ; — except in so fir as it may have suggested to him the idea of writing a song for Cora, of which that gentleman had set him an example in a ballad, beginning BIGHT HON. RICHAKD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 211 ^' Soft are thy s umbers, soft and sweet, Hush thee, hush thee, hush thee, boy." The song of Mr. Lewis, however, is introduced, with some- what less violence to probability, at the beginning of the Third Act, where the women are waiting for the tidings oi ti.e battle, and when the intrusion of a ballad from the heroine, though sufficiently unnatural, is not quite so monstrous as in the situa- tion which Sheridan has chosen for it. The following stanza formed a part of the song, as it was originally written : — ** Those eyes that beam-d this morn the light of youth, This morn I saw their gentle rays impart The day-spring sweet of hope, of love, of truth. The pure Aurora of my lover's heart. Yet wilt thou rise, oh Sun, and waste thy light, While my Alonzo's beams are quench'd in night.'- The only question upon which he spoke this year was the im- portant measure of the Union, wliich he strenuously and at great length opposed. Like every other measure, professing to be for the benefit of Ireland, the Union has been left incomplete in the one essential point, without which there is no hope of peace or prosperity for that country. As long as religious disqualification is left to " lie like lees at the bottom of men's hearts,"* in vain doth the voice of Parliament pronounce the word " Union" to the two Islands — a feeling, deep as the sea that breaks between them, answers back, sullenly, " Separation." Through the remainder of Mr. Sheridan's political career it is my intention, for many reasons, to proceed with a more rapid step ; and merely to give the particulars of his public conduct, together with such documents as I can bring to illustrate it, w^ith- out entering into much discussion or comment on either. Of his speeches in 1800, — during which year, on account, per- haps, of the absence of Mr. Fox from the House, he w^as partrcu- * " It lay like lees at the bottom of men's hearts ; and, if the vessel was but stirred, il woula come up." — Baoox, Henry Vil. 5il4 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE lariy industrious, — I shall select a few brief specimens for the reader. On the quertion of the Grant to the Emperor of Ger- many, he saic* : — • " I do think, Sir^ Jacobin principles never existed much in this country ; and even admitting they had, I say they have been found so hostile to true liberty, that, in proportion as we love it, (and, whatever may be said, I must still consider liberty an inestimable blessing,) we must hate and de- test these principles. But more, — I do not think they even exist in France. They have there died the best of deaths ; a death I am more pleased to see than if it had been effected by foreign force, — they have stung themselves to death, and died by their own poison." The following is a concise and just summary of the causes and effects of the French Kevolutionary war : — *' France, in the beginning of the Revolution, had conceived many ro- mantic notions ; she was to put an end to war, and produce, by a pure form of government, a perfectibility of mind which before had never been rea- lized. The Monarchs of Europe, seeing the prevalence of these new prin- ciples, trembled for their thrones. France, also, perceiving the hostility of Kings to her projects, supposed she could not be a Republic without the overthrow of thrones. Such has been the regular progress of cause and effect ; but who was the first aggressor, with whom the jealousy first arose, need not now be a matter of discussion. Both the Republic and the Mon- archs who opposed her acted on the same principles ; — the latter said they must exterminate Jacobins, and the former that they must destroy mon- archs. From this source have all the calamities of Europe flowed ; and it is now a waste of time and argument to inquire further into the subject.'^ Adverting, in his Speech on the Negotiation with France, to the overtures that had been made for a Maritime Truce, he says, with that national feeling, which rendered him at this time so popular, — *' No consideration for our ally, no hope of advantage to be derived from joint negotiation, should have induced the English Government to think for a moment of interrupting the course of our naval triumphs. — This mea sure, Sir, would have broken the heart of the navy, and would have damp- ed all its future exertions. How would our gallant sailors have felt, when, chained to their decks like galley-slaves, they saw the enemy's vessels sail- \ng ujider their bov/s in security, and proceeding, without a possibility of RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 215 being molested, to re victual those places which had been so long blockaded Dy their astonishing skill, perseverance, and valor ? We never stood more in need of their services, and their feelings at no time deserved to be more studiously consulted. The north of Europe presents to England a most awful and threatening aspect. Without giving an opinion as to the origin of these hostile dispositions, or pronouncing decidedly whether they are wholly ill-founded, I hesitate not to say, that if they have been excited be- cause we have insisted upon enforcing the old established Maritime LaF of Europe, — because we stood boldly forth in defence of indisputable priv- ileges,— because we have refused to abandon the source of our prosperity, the pledge of our security, and the foundation of our naval greatness,— they ought to be disregarded or set at defiance. If we are threatened to be deprived of that which is the charter of our existence, which has pro- cured us the commerce of the world, and been the means of spreading our glory over every land, — if the rights and honors of our flag are to be call- ed in question, every risk should be run, and every danger braved. Then we should have a legitimate cause of war ; — then the heart of every Briton would burn with indignation, and his hand be stretched forth in defence of his country. If our flag is to be insulted, let us nail it to the top-mast of the nation ; there let it fly while we shed the last drop of our blood in protecting it, and let it be degraded only when the nation itself is over- whelmed." He thus ridicules, in the same speech, the etiquette that had been observed in the selection of the ministers who were to con- fer with M. Otto :— " This stifi'-necked policy shows insincerity. I see Mr. Napean and Mr. Hammond also appointed to confer with M. Otto, because they are of the same rank. Is not this as absurd as if Lord Whitworth were to be sent to Petersburgh, and told that he was not to treat but with some gentleman of six feet high, and as handsome as himself? Sir, I repeat, that this is a stiff- necked policy, when the lives of thousands are at stake." In the following year Mr. Pitt was succeeded, as Prime Mi- nister, by Mr. Addiiigton. The cause assigned for this unex- pected change was the difference of opinion that existed between the King and Mr. Pitt, with respect to the further enfranchise- ment of the Catholics of Ireland. To this measure the Minis- ter and some of his colleagues considered themselves to have been pledged by the4ct of Union; but, on finding that the^ 216 MEMOIKS OF THE LIFE OF THE could not carry it, against the scruples of their Royal Master, resigned. Though Mr. Pitt so far availed himself of this alleged motive of his abdication as to found on it rather an indecorous appeal to the Catholics, in which he courted popularity for himself at the expense of that of the King, it was suspected that he had other and less disinterested reasons for his conduct. Indeed, while he took merit to himself for thus resigning his supremacyj he well knew that he still commanded it with " a falconer's voice," and, whenever he pleased, " could lure the tassel-gentle back again." The facility with which he afterwards returned to power, without making any stipulation for the measure now held to be essential, proves either that the motive now assigned for his resignation was false, or that, having sacrificed power to prin- ciple in 1801, he took revenge by making principle, in its turn, give way to power in 1804. During the early part of the new Administration, Mr. Sher- idan appears to have rested on his arms, — having spoken so rarely and briefly throughout the Session as not to have fur- nished to the collector of his speeches a single specimen of oratory worth recording. It is not till the discussion of the Definitive Treaty, in May, 1802, that he is represented as having professed himself friendly to the existing Ministry : — " Certainly," he said, " I have in several respects given my testimony in favor of the present Ministry, — in nothing more than for making the best peace, perhaps, they could, after their predecessors had left them in such a deplorable situation." It was on this occasion, how- ever, that, in ridiculing the understanding supposed to exist be- tween the Ex-minister and his successor, he left such marks of his wit on the latter as all his subsequent friendship could not efface. Among other remarks, full of humor, he said, — •' I shoal d like to support tlie present Minister on fair ground ; but what 18 he ? a sort of outside passenger, — or rather a man leading the horses rounil a corner, while reins, whip, and all. are in the hands of the coachman on the lox ! Uooking at Mr. Pitth elevated t-.eat, three or fimrheriches above that of the I'reab^ry.) Why not have an union of the two Ministers, or^ at least, EIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 217 some intelligible connection ? When the Ex-minister quitted office, almost all the subordinate Ministers kept their places. How was it that the whole family did not move together ? Had he only one covered waggon to carry friends and goods / oi has he left directions behind him that they may know where to call ? I remember a fable of Aristophanes' s, which is translated from Greek into decent English. I mention this for the country gentle- men. It is of a man that sat so long on a seat, (about as long, perhaps, as the Ex-minister did on the Treasury-bench,) that he grew to it. When Hercules pulled him off, he left all the sitting part of the man behind him. The House can make the allusion."* We have here an instance, in addition to the many which I have remarked, of his adroitness, not only in laying claim to all waifs of wit, " uhi non apparehat dominus^^'' but in stealing the wit himself, wherever he could find it. This happy application of the fable of Hercules and Theseus to the Ministry had been first made by Gilbert Wakefield, in a Letter to Mr. Fox, which the latter read to Sheridan a few days before the Debate ; and the only remark that Sheridan made, on hearing it, was, " What an odd pedantic fancy !" But the wit knew well the value of the jewel that the pedant had raked up, and lost no time in turning it to account with all his accustomed skill. The Letter of Wake- field, in which the application of the fable occurs, has been omit- * The following is another highly humorous passage from this speech : — '' But let France have colonies ! Oh, yes ! let her have a good trade, that she n)ay be afraid of war. says the Learned Member, — that's the way to make Buonaparte love peace. He has had, to be sure, a sort of military education. He has been abroad, and is rather rough compa/ny ; but if you put him behind the coimter a little, he will mend exceedingly. When I was reading the Treaty, I thought all the names of foreign places, viz. Pondi- cherry, Chandenagore, Cochin, Martinico, &c, all cessions. Not they, — they are all so many traps and hoUs to catch this silly fellow in, and make a merchant of him ! I really L ink the best way upon this principle would be this : — let the merchants of London open ' injiblic subscripticn. and set him up at once. I hear a great deal respecting a certain :iatue about to be erected to the Right Honorable Gentleman, (Mr. Pitt.) now in my eye, at a great expense. Send all that money over to the I'irst Con.^ul, and give him, what you talk of so much. Capital, to begin trade with. I hope the Right Honorable Gentle- man over the way will, like the First Consul, refuse a statue for the present, and post- pone it as a work to posterity. There is no harm., however, in marking out the place. The Right Honorable Gentleman is musing, perhaps, on what square, or place, he will choose for its erection. I recommend the Bank of England. Now for the iraterial Not gold : no. no I — he has not left enough of it. I should, however, propose papier nache and old banknotes !" VOL, IJ, JQ 218 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE ted, I know not why, in his published Correspondence with Mr. Fox : but a Letter of Mr. Fox, in the same collection, thus al- ludes to it :— " Your story of Theseus is excellent, as applicable to our present rulers ; if you could point out to me where 1 could find it, I should be much obliged to you. The Scholiast on Aristophanes is too wide a description." Mr. Wakefield in answer, says, — " My Aristophanes, with the Scholia, is not here. If I am right in my recollection, the story probably occurs in the Scholia on the Frogs, and would soon be found by referencxi to the name of Theseus in Kuster's Index." Another instance of this propensity in Sheridan, (which made him a sort of Catiline in wit, " covetous of another's wealth, and profuse of his own,") occurred during the preceding Session. As he was walking down to the House with Sir Philip Francis and another friend, on the day when the Address of Thanks on the Peace was moved, Sir Philip Francis pithily remarked, that " it was a Peace which every one would be glad of, but no one would be proud of" Sheridan, who was in a hurry to get to the House, did not appear to attend to the observation ; — but, before he had been many minutes in his seat, he rose, and, in the course of a short speech, (evidently made for the purpose of passing his stolen coin as soon as possible,) said, " This, Sir, is a peace which every one wall be glad of, but no one can be proud of"* The following letter from Dr. Parr to Sheridan, this year, records an instance of delicate kindness which renders it well worthy of preservation : — " Dear Sir, " I believe that you and my old pupil Tom feel a lively inter- est in my happiness, and, therefore, I am eager to inform you that, without any solicitation, and in the most handsome man- ner, Sir Francis Burdett has offered me the rectory of Graffham in Huntingdonshire ; that the yearly value of it now amounts jO * A similar theft was his observation, that " half the Debt of England had been mcu. id in pulling- down the Bourbons, and the other half in sctiiriG: them iip" -'A/nicn DOin*> . .,e mark he had heard, in conversation, from Sir Arthur 3'^''.c:or . RIGHT HOK. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 219 2OOZ.5 and is capable of considerable improvement ; that the preferment is tenable with my Northamptonsliire rectory ; that the situation is pleasant ; and that, by making it my place of residence, I shall be nearer to my respectable scholar and friend, Edward Maltby, to the University of Cambridge, and to those Norfolk comiections which I value most highly. " I am not much skilled in ecclesiastical negotiations ; and all my efforts to avail myself of the very obliging kindness condi- tionally intended for me by the Duke of Norfolk completely failed. But the noble friendship of Sir Francis Burdett has set everything right. I cannot refuse myself the great satisfaction of laying before you the concluding passage in Sir Francis's letter : — " ' I acknowledge that a great additional motive with me to the offer I now make Dr. Parr, is, that I believe I cannot do any thing more pleasing to his friends, Mr. Fox, Mr. Sheridan, and Mr. Knight; and I desire you, Sir, to consider yourself as oblig- ed to*them only.' " You will readily conceive, that I was highly gratified with this striking and important passage, and that I wish for an early opportunity of communicating with yourself, and Mr. Fox, and Mr. Knight. " I beg my best compliments to Mrs. Sheridan and Tom ; and I have the honor to be, Dear Sir, your very faithful well-wisher, and respectful, obedient servant, " September 2Y, Buckden, " S. Parr." " Sir Francis sent his own servant to my house at Hilton with the letter ; and my wife, on reading it, desired the servant to bring it to me at Buckden, near Huntingdon, where I yesterday received it." It was about this time that ':^e Pnmary Electors of the Na tional Institute of France having pioposed Haydn, the grea". composer, and Mr. Sheridan, as candidates for the class of Li- terature and the Fine Arts the Institute, with a choice not altr. gethei :Tde^ensibie. elected Hayd.., Seme French epigrams 220 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE on this occurrence, which appeared in the Courier, seem to have suggested to Sheridan the idea of writing a few English jeux- (T esprit on the same subject, which were intended for the newspa- pers, but I rather think never appeared. These verses show that he was not a little piqued by the decision of the Institute ; and the manner in which he avails himself of his anonymous charac- ter to speak of his own claims to the distinction, is, it must be owned, less remarkable for modesty than for truth. But Vanity, thus in masquerade, may be allowed some little license. The following is a specimen : — " The wise decision all admire ; 'Twas just, beyond dispute — Sound taste ! which, to Apollo's lyre PrefeiT'd — a German flute !" Mr. Kemble, who had been for some time Manager of Drury- Lane Theatre, was, in the course of the year 1800 — 1, tempted, notwithstanding the knowledge which his situation must have given him of the embarrassed state of the concern, to enter into negotiation with Sheridan for the purchase of a share in the pro- perty. How much anxiety the latter felt to secure such an associate in the establishment appears strongly from the following paper, drawn up by him, to accompany the documents submitted to Kemble during the negotiation, and containing some particu- lars of the property of Drury-Lane, which will be found not uninteresting : — ''Outline of the Terms on which it is proposed that Mr. Kemble shall purchase a Quarter in the Property of Drury-Lane Thea- tre. " I rea'xly chink thera cannot be a negotiation, in matter of purchase and sale, so evidently fii the advantage of both parties, if brought to a satisfac- tory conclusion. •' I am decided that the management of the theatre cannot be respected, or successful, but in the hands of an actual proprietor : and still the better, if he is himself in the profession, and at the head of it I am desirous, tJierefore, that Mr. Kemble snould be a uroprietor and manager HIGHT HOIST. RICHARD BRtNSLEY SHERIDAN'. 221 " Mr. Kemble is the person, of all others, who must naturally be desirous of both situations. He is at the head of his profession, without a rival ; he is attached to it, and desirous of elevating its character. He may be as- sured of proper respect, &c., while I have the theatre ; but I do not think he could brook his situation w^ere the property to pass into vulgar and il- liberal hands, — an eyent which he knows contingencies might produce. Laying aside then all affectation of indifference, so common in making bar- gains, let us set out with acknowledging that it is mutually our interest to agree, if we can. At the same time, let it be avowed, that I must be con- sidered as trying to get as good a price as I can, and Mr. Kemble to buy as cheap as he can. In parting with theatrical property, there is no standard, or measure, to direct the price : the whole question is, what are the proba- ble profits, and what is such a proportion of them worth ? •* I bought of Mr. Garrick at the rate of 70,000/. for the whole theatre. I bought of Mr. Lacey at the rate of 94,000/. ditto. I bought of Dr. Ford at the rate of 86,000/. ditto. In all these cases there was a perishable pa- tent, and an expiring lease, each having to run, at the different periods of the purchases, from ten to twenty years only. " All these purchases have undoubtedly answered well ; but in the chance of a Third Theatre consisted the risk ; and the want of size and accommo- dation must have produced it, had the theatres continued as they were. But the great and important feature in the present property, and which is never for a moment to be lost sight of, is, that the Monopoly is, morally speaking, established for ever, at least as well as the Monarchy, Constitu- tion, Public Funds, &c., — as appears by No. 1. being the copy of ' The Final Arrangement' signed by the Lord Chamberlain, by authority of His Majesty, the Prince of Wales, the Duke of Bedford, &c. ; and the dormant patent of Covent-Garden, that former terror of Drury-Lane, is perpetually annexed to the latter. So that the value of Drury-Lane at present, and in the for- mer sales, is out of all comparison, — independently of the new building, superior size, raised prices, &c., &c. But the incumbrances on the theatre, whose annual charge must be paid before there can be any surplus profit, are much greater than in Mr. Garrick 's time, or on the old theatre after- wards. Undoubtedly they are, and very considerably greater ; but what is the proportion of the receipts? Mr. Garrick realized and left a fortune of 140.000/. (having lived, certainly, at no mean expense,) acquired in years, on an average annual receipt of 25.000/. (qu. this ?) Our receipts cannot be stated at less than 60.000/. per ann. ; and it is demonstrable that preventing the most palpable frauds and abuses, with even a tolerable sys- tci'j of exertion in the management, must bring it. at the least, to 75,000/.; and this estimate does not include the advantages to be derived from the new tavern, passages, Chinese hall, &c., — an aid to the receipt, respecting 222 MEMOIRS 0$^ THE LIFE OF THE the amount of which I am very sanguine. "What then, is the probable pro- fit, and what is a quarter of it worth ? No. 3. is the^ amount of three sea- sons' receipts, the only ones on v;hich an attempt at an average could be justifiable. No. 4. is the future estimate, on a system of exertion and good management. No. 5. the actual annual incumbrancea. No. 6. the nightly expenses. No. 7. the estimated profits. Calculating on which, I demand for a quarter of the property, * * * *^ reserving to myself the existing private boxes, but no more to be created, and the fruit-ofiSces and houses not part of the theatre. " I assume that Mr. Kemble and I agree as to the price, annexing the following conditions to our agreement : — Mr. Kemble shall have his engage- ment as an actor for any rational time he pleases. Mr. Kemble shall be manager, vrith a clear salary of 500 guineas per annum, and * * per cent, on the clear profits. Mr. Sheridan engages to procure from Messrs. Ham- mersleys a loan to Mr. Kemble of ten thousand pounds, part of the purchase- money for four years, for which loan he is content to become collateral se- curity, and also to leave his other securities, now in their hands, in mort- gage for the same. And for the payment of the rest of the money, Mr. Sheridan is ready to give Mr. Kemble every facility his circumstances will admit of. It is not to be overlooked, that if a private box is also made over to Mr. Kemble^ for the whole term of the theatre lease, its value can- not be stated at less than 3.500/. Indeed, it might at any time produce to Mr. Kemble, or his assigns, 300/. per annum. Vide No. 8. This is a mate- rial deduction from the purchase-money to be paid. '* Supposing all this arrangement made, I conceive Mr. Kemble's income would stand thus : £ «. d. Salary as an actor, - - - -105 000 In lieu of benefit, - - - - 315 As manager, 525 00 Per centage on clear profit, - - - 300 Dividend on quarter-share, - - *2500 £4690 " I need not say how soon this would clear the whole of the purchase. With regard to the title, &c. Mr. Crews and Mr. Pigott are to decide. As to debts, the share must be made over to Mr. Kemble free from a claim even ; and for this purpose all demands shall l>e called in, by public adver- ♦ " I put this on the very lowest speculation.** MGHT HON. RiCJiARD ImiNSLEY SliERlDAN. 228 tisemeut, to be sent to Mr. Kcmblc'g own solicitor. In sliort, Mr. Crews shall be aalisfied that there does not exist an unsatisfied demand on the the aire, or a possibility of Mr. Kemblo being involved in the risk of a shil- ling. Mr. Hammersley, or such person as Mr. Kemble and Mr. Sheridan shall agree on, to be Treasurer, and receive and account for the whole re- ceipts, pay the charges, trusts, &c. ; and, at the close of the season, the sur- plus profits to the proprietors. A clause in case of death, or sale, to give the refusal to each other.'^ The following letter from Sheridan to Kemble, in answer, as it appears, to some complaint or remonstrance from the latter, in his capacity of Manager, is too curiously characteristic of the writer to be omitted : — " Dear Kemble, " If I had not a real good opinion of ^^our principles and in- tentions upon all subjects, and a very bad opinion of your nerves and philosophy upon some, I should take very ill indeed, the letter I received from you this evening. " That the management of the theatre is a situation capable of becoming troublesome is information which I do not want, and a discovery which 1 thought you had made long since. " I should be sorry to write to you gravely on your offer, be- cause I must consider it as a nervous flisiht. which it would be as unfriendly in me to notice seriously as it would be in you seriously to have made it. " What I am most serious in is a determination that, while the theatre is indebted, and others, for it and for me, are so in- volved and pressed as they are, I will exert myself, and give every attention and judgment in my power to the establishment of its interests. In you I hoped, and do hope, to find an assistant, on principles of liberal and friendly confidence, — I mean confi- dence that should be above touchiness and reserve, and that should trust to me to estimate the value of that assistance. " If there is any thing amiss in your mind, not arising from the trouhlesomeness ol your situation, it is childish and unmanly not to disclose it to me. The frankness with which I have always 224 MEMOIRS' OF THE LIFE OF THE dealt towards you entitles me to expect that you should have done so. " But I have no reason to believe this to be the case ; and, at- tributing your letter to a disorder which I know ought not to be indulged, I prescribe that you shall keep your appointment at the Piazza Coffee-house, to-morrow at five, and, taking four bottles of claret instead of three, to which in sound health you might stint yourself, forget that you ever wrote the letter, as I shall that I ever received it. " R. B. Sheridan." iilGHT HON. KICHAKD BRIKSLEY SHERIDAN. 226 CHAPTEE [X. SI ATE OF PARTIES. — OFFER OF A PLACE TO MR. T. SHERIDAN. — RECEIVERSHIP OF THE DUCHY OF CORN- WALL BESTOWED UPON MR SHERIDAN. — RETURN OF MR, PITT TO POWER. — 0J.TdOi.IC QUESTION. — ADMINIS- TRATION OF LORD GEENVILLE AND MR. FOX. — DEATH OF MR, FOX. — REPRESENTATION OF WESTMINSTER. — DISMISSION OF THE MINISTRY. — THEATRICAL NEGOTIA- TION.—SPANXSH QUESTION. — LETTER TO THE PRINCE. During the short interval of peace into which the country was now lulled, — like a ship becalmed for a moment in the valley between two vast waves, — such a change took place in the relative positions and bearings of the parties that had been so long arrayed against each other, and such new boundaries and divisions of opinion were formed, as considerably altered the map of the political world. While Mr. Pitt lent his sanction to the new Administration, they, who had made common cause with him in resigning, violently opposed it ; and, while the Ministers were thus thwarted by those who had hitherto alw\ays agreed with them, they were supported by those Whigs with whom they had before most vehemently dilTered. Among this latter class of their friends was, as I have already remarked, Mr. Sheridan, — who, convinced that the only chance of excluding Mr. Pitt from power lay in strengthening the hands of those who were in possession, not only gave them the aid of his own name and eloquence, but endea- vored'to impress the same views upon Mr. Fox, and exerted his influence also to procure the sanction of Carlton-Iiouse in their favor. VOL. IT. 10* 226 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THfe It cannot, indeed, be doubted that Sheridan, at this tinie, though still the friend of Mr. Fox, had ceased, in a great degi'ec, to be his follower. Their views with respect to the renewal of the war were wholly different. While Sheridan joined in the popular feeling against France, and showed his knowledge of that great instrument, the Public Mind, by approaching it onlv with such themes as suited the martial mood to which it was tuned, the too confiding spirit of Fox breathed nothing but for- bearance and peace ; — and he who, in 1786, had proclaimed the " natural enmity " of England and France, as an argument against their commercial intercourse, now asked, with the softened tone which time and retirement had taught him, " whether France was /or ever to be considered our rival?"* The following characteristic note, written by him previously to the debate on the Army Estimates, (December 8, 1802,) shows a consciousness that the hold which he had once had upon his friend was loosened : — "Dear Sheridan, " I mean to be in town for Monday, — that is, for the Army. As for to-morrow, it is no matter ; — I am for a largish fleet, though perhaps not quite so large as they mean. Pray, do not be absent Monday, and let me have a quarter of an hour's con- versation before the business begins. Remember, I do not wish you to be inconsistent, at any rate. Pitt's opinion by Proxy is ridiculous beyond conception, and I hope you will show it in that light. I am very much against your abusing Bonaparte, because I am sure it is impolitic both for the country and ourselves. But, as you please ; — only, for God's sake, Peace.f " Yours ever " Tuesday night. " C. J. Fox." It was about this period that the writer of these pages had, * Speech on the Address of Thanks in 1803. t These last words are an interesting illustration of the line in Mr. Rogers's Verses on this statesman : — " ' Peace,' when he spoke, was ever on his tongne.*' HIGHT HON. KICHAill) BElNSLEY SHERIOAN. 227 for the first time, the gratification of meeting Mr. Sheridan, at Donington-Park, the seat of the present Marquis of Hastings ; — a circumstance which he recalls, not only with those lively im- pressions, that our first admiration of genius leaves behind, but with many other dreams of youth and hope, that still endear to him the mansion where that meeting took place, and among which gratitude to its noble owner is the only one, perhaps, that has not faded. Mr. Sheridan, I remember, w^as just then furnish- ing a new house, and talked of a plan he had of levying cor.trl. butions on his friends for a library. A set of books from each would, he calculated, amply accomplish it, and already the inti- mation of his design had begun to " breathe a soul into the silent walls."* The splendid and well-chosen library of Donington was, of course, not slow in furnishing its contingent ; and little was it foreseen into what badges of penury these gifts of friend- ship would be converted at last. As some acknowledgment of the services which Sheridan had rendered to the Ministry, (though professedly as a tribute to his public character in general,) Lord St. Vincent, about this time, made an offer to his son, Mr. Thomas Sheridan, of the place of Eegistrar of the Vice- Admiralty Court of Malta* — an office which, during a period of war, is supposed to be of considerable emol- ument. The first impulse of Sheridan, vrhen consulted on the proposal, was, as I have heard, not unfavorable to his son's accept- ance of it. But, on considering the new position which he had, himself, lately taken in politics, and the inference that might be drawm against the independence of his motives, if he submitted to an obligation which was but too liable to be interpreted, as less a return for past services than a lien upon him for future ones, he thought it safest for his character to sacrifice the advantage, and, desirable as was the provision for his son, obliged him to decline it. The follo\^dng passages of a letter to him from Mrs. Sheridan on this subject do the highest honor to her generosity, spirit, and good sense. They also confirm what has generally been under- stood, that the King, about this time, sent a most gracious mes- * Rogers 228 MEMOtKS OF THE LIFE OF TH2 saj.3 to Sheridan, expressive of the approbation with which he regarded his public conduct, and of the pleasuie he should feel in conferimg upon him some mark of his Royal favor: — " I am more anxious than I can express about Tom's welfare. It is, indeed, unfortunate that you have been obliged to refuse these things for him, but surely there could not be two opinions ; yet why will you neglect to observe those attentions that honor does not compel you to refuse ? Don't you know that when once the King takes offence, he was never known to forgive ? I sup- p033 it would be impossible to have your motives explained to him, because it would touch his weak side, yet any thing is better than his attributing your refusal to contempt and indiiference. Would to God I could bear these necessary losses instead of Tom, particularly as I so entirely approve of your conduct. " I trust you will be able to do something positive for Tom about money. I am willing to make any sacrifice in the world for that purpose, and to live in any way whatever. Wliatever he has now ought to be certain, or how will he know how to re- gulate his expenses ?" The fate, indeed, of young Sheridan was peculiarly tantalizing. Born and brought up in the midst of those bright hopes, which so long encircled his father's path, he saw them all die away as he became old enough to profit "By them, leaving difficulty and disappointment, his only inheritance, behind. Unprovided with any profei^sion by which he could secure his own independence, and shut out, as in this instance, from those means of advance- ment, which, it was feared, might compromise the independence of his father, he was made the victim even of the distinction of his situation, and paid dearly for the glory of being the son of Sheridan. In the expression of his face, he resembled much his beautiful mother, and derived from her also the fatal complaint of which he died. His popularity in society was unexampled, — but he knew how to attach as well as amuse ; and, though living chiefly with that class of persons, who pass over the sur- BIGHT HON. RICHARD BKINSLEY SHERIDAN. 229 faoe of life, like Camilla over the corn, without leavitig any im- pression of themselves behind, he had manly and intelligent qualities, that deserved a far better destiny. There are, indeed, few individuals, whose lives have been so gay and thoughtless, whom so many remember w^th cordiality and interest : and, among the numerous instances of discriminating good nature, by which the private conduct of His Eoyal Highness the Duke of York is distinguished, there are none that do him more honor than his prompt and efficient kindness to the interestmg family that the son of Sheridan has left beliind him. Soon after the Declaration of War against France, when an immediate invasion w^as threatened by the enemy, the Heir Ap- parent, with the true spirit of an English Prince, came forward to make an offer, of his personal service to the country. A cor- respondence upon the subject, it is well known, ensued, in the course of which His Royal Highness addressed letters to Mr. Addington, to the Duke of York, and the King. It has been sometimes stated that these letters were from the pen of Mr. Sheridan : but the first of the series w^as written bv Sir Robert Wilson, and the remainder by Lord Hutchinson. The death of Joseph Richardson, which took place this year, w^as felt as strongly by Sheridan as any thing can be felt, by those who, in the w^hirl of worldly pursuits, revolve too rapidly round Self, to let any thing rest long upon their surface. With a fidelity to his old habits of unpunctuality, at which the shade of Richardson might have smiled, he arrived too late at Bagshot for the funeral of his friend, but succeeded in persuading the good-natured cler- gyman to perform the ceremony over again. Mr. John Taylor, a gentleman, whose love of good-fellowship and wit has made him the welcome associate of some of the brightest men of his day, was one of the assistants at this singular scene, and also joined in the party at the inn at Bedfont afterwards, where Sheridan, it is said, drained the " Cup of Memory" to his friend, till he found oblivion at the bottom. At the close of the session of 1803, that strange diversity of opinions, into w^hich the two leading parties were decomposed by 230 MEMOIES OF THE LIFE OF THE the resignation of Mr. Pitt, had given way to new varieties, both of cohesion and separation, quite as little to be expected from the natural affinities of the ingredients concerned in them. Mr. Pitt, upon perceiving, in those to whom he had delegated his power, an mclination to surround themselves with such strength from the adverse ranks as would enable. them to contest his resumption of the trust, had gradually withdrawn the sanction which he at first afforded them, and taken his station by the side of the other two parties in opposition, without, however, encumbering himself, in his views upon office, with either. By a similar movement, though upon different principles, Mr. Fox and the Whigs, who had begun by supporting the Ministry against the strong War- party of which Lord Grenville and Mr. Windham were the lead- ers, now entered into close co-operation with this new Opposition, and seemed inclined to forget both recent and ancient differences in a combined assault upon the tottering Admiaistration of Mr. Addington. The only parties, perhaps, that acted with consistency through these transactions, were Mr. Sheridan and the few who followed him on one side, and Lord Gremdlle and his friends on the other. The support which the former had given to the Ministry, — from a conviction that such was the true policy of his party, — he perse- vered in, notwithstanding the suspicion it drew down upon him, to the last; and, to the last, deprecated the connection with the Grenvilles, as entangling his friends in the same sort of hollow partnership, out of which they had come bankrupts in character and confidence before.* In like mamier, it must be owmed the Opposition, of which Lord Grenville was the head, held a course direct and undeviating from beginning to end. Unfettered by those reservations in favor of Addington, which so long embar- * In a letter written this year by Mr. Tliomas Sheridan to his father, there is the fol- lowing passage : — " I am glad you intend writing to Lord ; he is quite right about politics, — reprobates the idea rriosl strongly of any union with the Grenvilles, &c. which, he says, he sees is Fox's leaning. ' I agreed with your father pfrfectly on the subject, when I left him in town ; but when I saw Charles at St. Ann's Hill, I perceived he was wrong and obsti- nats.' " HIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHER1DA:N'. 2Si rassed the movements of their former leader, they at once started in opposition to the Peace anr. the Ministry, and, with not only Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox, but the whole people of England against them, persevered till they had ranged all these several parties on their side : — nor was it altogether without reason that this party afterwards boasted that, if any abandonment of principle had occurred in the connection between them and the Whigs, the surrender was assuredly not from their side. Early in the year 1804, on the death of Lord Elliot, the office of Receiver of the Duchy of CornwaH, which had been held by that nobleman, was bestowed by the Prince of Wales upon Mr. Sheridan, " as a trifling proof of that sincere friendship His Roya^. Highness had always professed and felt for him through a long series of years." His Royal Highness also added, in the same communication, the very cordial words, " I wish to God it was better worth your acceptance." The following letter from Sheridan to Mr. Addington, com- municating the intelligence of this appointment, shows pretty plainly the terms on which he not only -now stood, but was well inclined to continue, with that Minister : — "Dear Sir, George- Street^ Tuesday evening, " Convinced as I am of the sincerity of your good will towards me, I do not regard it as an impertinent intrusion to inform you that the Prince has, in the most gracious manner, and wholly unsolicited, been pleased to appoint me to the late Lord Elliot's situation in the Duchy of Cornwall. I feel a desire to communi- cate this to you myself, because I feel a confidence that you will be glad of it. It has been my pride and pleasure to have exerted m.y humble efforts to serve the Prince without ever accepting the slightest obligation from him ; but, in the present case, and under the present circumstances, I think it would have been really false pride and apparently mischievous affectation to have declined this mark of His Royal Highness's confidence and favor. I will not disguise that, at this peculiar crisis, I am greatly gratiiied at this fivent. Had it been the result of a mean and subservient devo- 232 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE tioii to the Prince's every wish and object, I coulJ neither havb respected the gift, the giver, nor myself; but when I consider how recently it was my misfortune to rind myself compeHed by a sense of duty, stronger than my attachment to him, wholly to risk the situation I held in his confidence and favor, and that upon a subject* on which his feelings were so eager and irritable. I cannot but regard the increased attention, with which he has since honored me, as a most gratifying demonstration that he has clear- ness of judgment and firmness of spirit to distinguish the real friends to his true glory and interests from the mean and mer- cenary sycophants, who fear and abhor that such friends should be near him. It is satisfactory to me, also, that this appointment gives me the title and opportunity of seeing the Prince, on trying occasions, openly and in the face of day, and puts aside the mask of mystery and conceal nient. I trust I need not add, that whatever small portion of fair influence I may at any time possess with the Prince, it shall be uniformly exerted to promote those feelings of duty and affection towards their Majesties, which, though seem ingly interrupted by adverse circumstances, I am sure are in his heart warm and unalterable — and, as far as I may presume, that general concord throughout his illustrious family, whi<^ must be looked to by every honest subject, as an essential part of the public strength at this momentous period. I have the honor to be, with great respect and esteem, " Your obedient Servant, " Right Hon. Henry Addington. " R. B. Sheridan." The same view^s that influenced Mr. Sheridan, Lord Moira, and others, in supporting an administration which, w^ith all its defects, they considered preferable to a relapse into the hands of Mr. Pitt, had led Mr. Tierney, at the close of the last Session, to confer upon it a still more efficient sanction, by enrolling him- self in its ranks as Treasurer of the Navy. In the early part of * The ofTor made by the Prinee of his personal services in 1803, — on which occasion Sheridan coincided with the views of Mr. Addington somewhat more than was agree- able to His Royal Higimess. EIGHT HON. KICHAKD BKINSLEY SHERIDAN. 283 the present year, anctlier ornament of the Whig party, Mr. Erskine, was on the point of following ui the same footsteps, by accepting, from Mr. Addington, tlie office of Attorney-General. He had, indeed, proceeded so far in his intention as to submit the overtures of the Minister to the consideration of the Prince, in a letter which was transmitted to his Royal Highness by Sheridan. The answer of the Prince, conveyed also through Sheridan, while it expressed the most friendly feelings towards Erskine, declined, at the same time, giving any opinion as to either his acceptance or refusal of the office of Attorney-General, if offered to him under the present circumstances. His Royal Highness also added the expression of his sincere regret, that a proposal of this nature should have been submitted to his con- sideration bv one, of whose attachment and iidelitv to himself he was well convinced, but who ought to have felt, from the line of conduct adopted and persevered in by his Royal Highness, that he was the very last person that should have been applied to for either his opinion or countenance respecting the political conduct or connection of any public character, — especially of one so intimately connected with liim, and belonging to his family. If, at any time, Sheridan had entertained the idea of associating himself, by office, with the Ministry of Mr. jiddington, (and pro- posals to this effect were, it is certain, made to him,) his knowl- edge of the existence of such feelings as prompted this answer to Mr. Erskine w^ould, of course, have been sufficient to divert him from the intention. The following document, which I have found, in his own hand- writing, and which was intended, apparently, for publication in the newspapers, contains some particulars with respect to the proceedings of his party at this time, which, coming from such a source, may be considered as authentic : — " State of Parties. " Among the various rumors of Coalitions, or attempted Co- &r,cions, we have already expressed our disbelief in that reported tc lave taken place between the Grenville-Windhamites and Mr. 234 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE Fox. At least, if it was ever in negotiation, we have reason to think it received an early check, arising from a strong party of the Old Opposition protesting against it. The account of this transaction, as whispered in the poiitlcal circles, is as follows : — "In consequence of some of the most respectable members of the Old Opposition being sounded on the subject, a meeting was held at Norfolk-House ; when it w^as determined, with very few dissentient voices, to present a friendly remonstrance on the sub- ject to Mr. Fox, stating the manifold reasons which obviously presented themselves against such a procedure, both as affecting Character and Party. It was urged that the present Ministers had, on the score of innovation on the Constitution, given the Whigs no pretence for complaint whatever; and, as to their alleged incapacity, it remained to be proved that they were capable of committing errors and producing miscarriages, equal to those w^hich had marked the councils of their predecessors, whom the measure in question was expressly calculated to re- place in power. At such a momentous crisis, therefore, waving all considerations of past political provocation, to attempt, by the strength and combination of party, to expel the Ministers of His Majesty's choice, and to force into his closet those whom the Whigs ought to be the first to rejoice that he had excluded from it, was stated to be a proceeding which would assuredly revolt the public feeling, degrade the character of Parliament, and pro- duce possibly incalculable m.ischief to the country. " We understand that Mr. Fox's reply was, that he would never take any political step against the wishes and advice of the majority of his old friends. " The paper is said to have been drawn up by Mr. Erskine, and to have been presented to Mr. Fox by his Grace of Norfolk, on the day His Majesty was pronounced to be recovered from his first illness. Rumor places among the supporters of this measure the written authority of the Duke of Northumberland and the Earl of Moira, with the signatures of Messrs. Erskine, Sheiidan, Shum. Curwen, Western, Brogden, and a long et ccetera. It is said also that the Prince's sanction had been previously RiaHT HOK RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 286 given to the Duke, — His Royal Highness deprecating all party- struggle, at a moment when the defence of all that is dear to Britons ought to be the single sentiment that should fill the pub- lic mind. ^ '' We do not vouch for the above being strictly accurate ; but we are confident that it is not far from the truth.'* , The illness of the King, referred to in this paper, had been first publicly announced in the month of February, and was for some time considered of so serious a nature, that arrangements were actually in progress for the establishment of a Regency. Mr. Sheridan, who now formed a sort of connecting link between Carlton-House and the Minister, took, of course, a leading part in the negotiations preparatory to such a measure. It appears, from a letter of Mr. Fox on the subject, that the Prince and another person, whom it is unnecessary to name, were at one mo- ment not a little alarmed by a rumor of an intention to associ- ate the Duke of York and the Queen in the Regency. Mr. Fox, however, begs of Sheridan to tranquillize their minds on this point : — the intentions, (he adds,) of " the Doctor,"* though bad enough in all reason, do not go to such lengths ; and a proposal of this nature, from any other quarter, could be easily defeated. Within about two months from the date of the Remonstrance, which, according to a statement already given, was presented to Mr. Fox by his brother Whigs, one of the consequences which it prognosticated from the connection of their party with the Gren- villes took place, in the resignation of Mr. Addington and the return of Mr. Pitt to power. The confidence of Mr. Pitt, in thus taking upon himself, almost * To the infliction of this nickname on his friend. Mr. Addington, Sheridan was, in no Bmall degree, accessory, by applying to those who disapproved of his administration, jind yet gave no reasons for their disapprobation, the well-known lines, — "I do not love Lhee. Doctor Fell, And why I cannot tell • But this I know full well, I do not love lhee. Doctor Fell." 236 MEMOIPS OF THE LIFE OF THE single-handed, the government of the country at suc'i an awful crisis, was, he soon perceived, not shared by the public. A ge- neral expectation had prevailed that the three great Parties, which had late^ been encamped together on the field of opposi tion, would have each sent its Chiefs into the public councils, and thus formed such a Congress of power and talent as the difficul ties ' of the empire, in that trying moment, demanded. This hope had been frustrated by the repugnance of the King to Mr. Fox, and the too ready flicility with which Mr. Pitt had given way to it. Not only, indeed, in his undignified eagerness for of- fice, did he sacrifice without stipulation the important question, which, but two years before, had been made the sine-qua-non of his services, but, in } ielding so readily to the Royal prejudices against his rival, he gave a sanction to that unconstitutional prin- ciple of exclusion,* which, if thus acted upon by the party-feelings of the Monarch, would soon narrow the Throne into the mere nucleus of a favored faction. In allowing, too, his friends and partisans to throw the whole blame of this exclusive Ministry on the King, he but repeated the indecorum of which he had been guilty in 1802. For, having at that time made use of the reli- gious prejudices of the Monarch, as a pretext for his manner of quitting office, he now employed the political prejudices of the same personage, as an equally convenient excuse for his manner of returning to it. A few extracts from the speech of Mr. Sheridan upon the Ad- ditional Force Bill, — the only occasion on which he seems to have spoken during the present year, — will show that the rarity of his displays w^as not owing to any fiiilure of power, but rather, per- * " This principle of personal exclusion, -'said Loja Grc.iville.) is one of which I never can approve, because, independently of its operation to prevent Parliament and the peo- ple froni enjoying the Administration they desired, and which it was their particular in- leresi to have. A tends to establish a dannrerous precedent, that would aiTcrd too much opporiunily of private pique ao:ainst the public mtere.t. I, for one. therefore, refused to conned myself with any one argument that sh mid sanction that principle ; and, :n my opinion, every man who accepted office under that Ami-istration is, according to .tie let- ter and spirit of the constitution, responsible for its character and construction, and the principle upon which it is founded." — Speech of Lord Grenirille on the motion, of Lord Darnleyfor the repeal of the, Additumal Force Bill, Ftb. 15, 1806. tlTGHT HON. RICHARD BRINShEY SHERIDAN. 23? haps, to the increasing involvement of his circumstances, which left no time for the thought and pr^eparation that all his public efforts required. Mr. Pitt had, at the commencement of this year, condescended to call to his aid the co-operation of Mr. Addington, Lord Buck- inghamshire, and other members of that Administration, which had withered away, but a few months before, under the blight of his sarcasm and scorn. In alluding to this Coalition, Sheridan says,— ^' The Right Honorable Gentleman went into office alone ; — but, lest the government should become too full of vigor from his support, he thought proper to beckon back some of the weakness of the former administration. He. I suppose, thought that the Ministry became, from his support, like spirits above proof, and required to be diluted ; that, like gold refined to a certain degree, it would be unfit for use without a certain mixture of alloy ; that the administration would be too brilliant, and dazzle the House, unless he called back a certain part of the mist and fog of the last administration to render it tolerable to the eye. As to the great change made in the Mi- nistry by the introduction of the Right Honorable Gentleman himself, I Tould ask, does he imagine that he came back to office with the same esti- mation that he left it? I am sure he is much mistaken if he fancies that he did. The Right Honorable Gentleman retired from office because, as was stated, he could not carry an important question, which he deemed neces- sary to satisfy the just claims of the Catholics ; and in going out he did not hesitate to tear off the sacred veil o^ Majesty, describing his Sovereign as the only person that stood in the way of this desirable object. After the Right Honorable Gentleman's retirement, he advised the Catholics to look to no one but him for the attainment of their rights, and cautiously to ab- stain from forming a connection with any other person. But how does it appear, now that the Right Honorable Gentleman is returned to office ? He declines to perform his promise ; and has received, as his colleagues in office, those who are pledged to resist the measure. Does not the Right Honorable Gentleman then feel that he comes back to office with a cha- racter degraded by the violation of a solemn pledge, given to a great and respectable body of the people, upon a particular and momentous occasion ? Does the Right Honorable Gentleman imagine either that he returns to office with the same character for political wisdom, after the description which he gave of the talents and capacity of his predecessors, and after having shown, by his own actions,, that his description was totally uu- founded ?" 238 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE In alluding to Lord Melville's appointment to the Admiralty, he says, — '• But then, I am told, there is the First Lord of the Admiralty, — ' Do you forget the leader of the grand Catamaran project ? Are you not aware of the important change in that department, and the adyantage the country is likely to derive fi'om that change V Why, I answer, that I do not know of any peculiar qualifications the Noble Lord has to preside over the Admiralty ; but I do know, that if I were to judge of him from the kind of capacity he evinced while Minister of War, I should entertain little hopes of him. If, however, the Right Honorable Gentleman should say to me, ' Where else would you put that Noble Lord, would you have him ap« pointed War-Minister again V I should say, Oh no, by no means, — I re- member too well the expeditions to Toulon, to Quiberon, to Corsica, and to Holland, the responsibility for each of which the Noble Lord took on himj-eif, entirely releasing from any responsibility the Commander in Chief and the Secretary at W^ar. I also remember that, which, although so glo- rious to our arms in the result, I still shall call a most unwarrantable project, — the expedition to Egypt. It may be said, that as the Noble Lord was so unfit for the military department, the naval was the proper place for him. Perhaps there were people who would adopt this whimsical rea- soning. I remember a story told respecting Mr. Garrick, who was once applied to by an eccentric Scotchman, to introduce a production of his on the stage. This Scotchman was such a good-humored fellow, that he was called * Honest Johnny M'Cree.' Johnny wrote four acts of a tragedy, which he showed to Mr. Garrick, who dissuaded him from finishing it ; telling him that his talent did not lie that way ; so Johnny abandoned the tragedy, and set about writing a comedy. Vr^hen this was finished, he showed it to Mr. Garrick, who found it to be still more exceptionable than the tragedy, and of course could not be persuaded to bring it forward on the stage. This surprised poor Johnny, and he remonstrated. * Nay, now, David, (said Johnny,) did you not tell me my talents did not lie in tra- gedy?' — ' Yes, (replied Garrick,) but I did not tell you that they lay in comedy.'—' Then, (exclaimed Johnny,) gin they dinna lie there, where the de'il dittha lie, mon V Unless the Noble Lord at the head of the Admiral- ty has the same reasoning in his mind as Johnny M'Cree, he cannot possi- bly suppose that his incapacity for the direction of the War-department necessarily qualifies him for the Presidency of the Naval. Perhaps, if the Noble Lord be told that he has no talents for the latter. His Lordship may exclaim with honest Johnny M'Cree, ' Gin they dinna lie there, where the de'il dittha lie, mon ?' ^' On the 10th of May, the claims of the Roman Catholics of Ire RKJH'T HON. UlCIiARr) BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 239 land, were, for the first time, brought under the notice of the Im- perial Parliament, by Lord Grenville iii the House of Lords, and by Mr. Fox in the House of Commons. A few days before the debate, as appears by the following remarkable letter, Mr. Sheri- dan was made the medium of a communication from Carlton- House, the object of which was to prevent Mr. Fox from pre- senting the Petition. "Dear Sheridan, " I did not receive your letter till last night. " I did, on Thursday, consent to be the presenter of the Catho- lic Petition, at the request of the Delegates, and had further cor- versation on the subject with them at Lord Grenville's yesterday morning. Lord Grenville also consented to present the Petition to the House of Lords. Now, therefore, any discussion on this part of the subject would be too late ; but I will fairly own, that, if it were not, I could not be dissuaded from doing the public act, which, of all others, it will give me the greatest satisfaction and pride to perform. No past event in my political life ever did and no future one ever can, give me such pleasure. " I am sure you know how painful it would be to me to dis- obey any command of His Royal Highness's, or even to act in any manner that might be in the slightest degree contrary to his wishes, and therefore I am not sorry that your intimation came too late. I shall endeavor to see the Prince to-day ; but, if I should fail, pray take care that he knows how things stand before we meet at dinner, lest any conversation there should appear to come upon him by surprise. " Yours ever, " Arlington Street, Sunday, " C. J. F." It would be rash, without some further insight into the circum- stances of this singular interference, to enter into any specu- lations with respect to its nature or motives, or to pronounce how far Mr. Sheridan was justified in being the instrument of it. But on the share of Mr. Fox in the transaction, such suspension of 2i0 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE opinion is unnecessary. We have here his simple and honest words before us, — and they breathe a spirit of sincerity from which even Princes might take a lesson with advantage. Mr. Pitt was not long in discovering that place does not always imply Power, and that in separating himself from the other able men of the day, he had but created an Opposition as much too strong for the Government, as the Government itself w^as too weak for the coimtry. Tlie humiliating resource to which he w^as driven, in trying, as a tonic, the reluctant alliance of Lord Sidmouth, — the abortiveness of his efforts to avert the fall of his old friend, Lord Melville, and the fatality of ill luck that still attended his exertions against France, — all concurred to render this reign of the once powerful Minister a series of humiliations, shifts, and disasters, unlike his former proud period in every thing but ill success. The powerful Coalition opposed to him already had a prospect of carrying by storm the post which he occupied, when, by his death, it was surrendered, without parley, into their hands. The Administration that succeeded, under the auspices of Lord Grenville and Mr. Fox, bore a resemblance to the celebrated Brass of Corinth, more, perhaps, in the variety of the metals brought together, than in the perfection of the compound that resulted from their fusion."* There were comprised in it, indeed, not only the two great parties of the leading chiefs, but those v\'higs who differed with them both under the Addington Minis- try, and the Addingtons that differed with them all on the suK jtjct of the Catholic claims. With this last anomalous additiof to the miscellany the influence of Sheridan is mainly chargeable. Having, for some time past, exerted all his powers of manage- ment to bring about a coalition between Carl ton-House and Lord Sidmouth, he had been at length so successful, that upon the formation of the present Ministry, it was the express desire of the Prince that Lord Sidmouth should constitute a part of it. ♦ See in the Annual Reg-isler of 1800, some able remarks upon Coalitions in gencral^ vm well as a temperate defence of this Coalition in particular, — for which tliat work is, I 8us- pecl. indebted to a hand f-uch as has not often, since the time of Burke, enriched its pages SIGHT HON. RICHARD fiRtNSLEY SHERIDAN. 2H To the same unlucky influence, too, is to be traced the very questionable measure, (notwithstanding the great learning and ability with which it was defended,) of introducing the Chief Justice, Lord Ellenborough, into the Cabinet. As to Sheridan's own share in the arrangements, it was, no doubt, expected by hhn that he should now be included among the members of the Cabinet ; and it is probable that Mr. Fox, at the head of a purely Whig ministry, would have so far con- sidered the services of his ancient ally, and the popularity still attached to his name through the country, as to confer upon him this mark of distinction and confidence. But there were other interests to be consulted ; — and the undisguised earnestness with which Sheridan had opposed the union of his party with the Grenvilles, left him but little supererogation of services to expect in that quarter. Some of his nearest friends, and particularly Mrs. Sheridan, entreated, as I understand, in the most anxious manner, that he would not accept any such office as that of Trea- surer of the Navy, for the responsibility and business of which they knew his habits so wholly unfitted him, — but that, if exclud- ed by his colleagues from the distinction of a seat in the Cabi- net, he should decline all office whatsoever, and take his chance in a friendly independence of them. But the time was now past when he could afford to adopt this policy, — the emoluments of a place were too necessary to him to be rejected ; — and, in accept- ing the same office that had been allotted to him in the Regency- arrangements of 1789, he must have felt, w^ith no small degree of mortification, how stationary all his efforts since then had left him, and what a blank was thus made of all his services in the interval. The period of this Ministry, connected with the name of Mr. Fox, though brief, and in some respects, far from laudable, was distinguished by two measures, — the Plan of Limited Service, and the Resolution for the Abolition of the Slave-Trade, — which will long be remembered to the honor of those concerned in them. The motion of Mr. Fox against the Slave-Trade was the last he ever made in Parliament ; — and the same sort of mclari- VOL. II. 11 242 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE choly admiration that Pliny expresses, in speaking of a beautiful picture, the painter of which had died in finishing it, — " dolor manus^ dum idageret^ abreptce,''—coniQs naturally over our hearts in thinking of the last glorious work, to which this illustrious statesman, in dying, set his hand. Though it is not true, as has been asserted, that Mr. Fox re- fused to see Sheridan in his last illness, it is but too certain that those appearances of alienation or reserve, which had been for some time past observable in the former, continued to throw a restraint over their intercourse with each other to the last. It is a proof, however, of the absence of any serious grounds for this distrust, that Sheridan was the person selected by the relatives of Mr. Fox to preside over and direct the arrangements of the funeral, and that he put the last, solemn seal to their long inti- macy, by following his friend, as mourner, to the grave. The honor of representing the city of Westminster in Parlia- ment had been, for some time, one of the dreams of Sheridan's ambition. It was suspected, indeed, — I know not with what jus- tice, — that in advising Mr. Fox, as he is said to have done, about the year 1800, to secede from public life altogether, he was actu- ated by a wish to succeed him in the representation of West- minster, and had even already set on foot some private negotia- tions towards that object. Whatever grounds there may have been for this suspicion, the strong wish that he felt on the subject had long been sufficiently known to his colleagues ; and on the death of Mr. Fox, it appeared, not only to himself, but the pub- lic, that he was the person naturally pointed out as most fit to be his parliamentary successor. It was, therefore, with no slight degTce of disappointment he discovered, that the ascendancy of Aristocratic influence. was, as usual, to prevail, and that the young son of the Duke of Northumberland would be supported by the Government in preference to him. It is but right, however, in justice to the Ministry, to state, that the neglect with which thej appear to have treated him on this occasion, — particularly in not. apprising him of their decision in favor of Lord Percy, suffi- ciently early to save him_ from the humiliaticn of a fruitless at- manr iioN'. kiciiard brik-sley sheridan. 243 tempt, — is proved, by the following letters, to have originated in a double misapprehension, by which, while Sheridan, on one side, was led to believe that the Ministers would favor his pretensions, the Ministers, on the other, were induced to think that he had given up all intentions of being a candidate. The first letter is addressed to the gentleman, (one of Sheri- dan's intimate friends,) who seems to have been, unintentionally, the cause of the mistake on both sides. " Dear , Somerset-Place, September 14. " You must have seen by my manner, yesterday, how much I was surprised and hurt at learning, for the first time, that Lord Grenville had, many days previous to Mr. Fox's death, decided to support Lord Percy on the expected vacancy for Westmins- ter, and that you had since been the active agent in the canvass actually commenced. I do not like to think I have grounds to com- plain or change my opinion of any friend, without being very explicit, and opening my mind, without reserve, on such a sub- ject. I must frankly declare, that I think you have brought yourself and me into a very unpleasant dilemma. You seemed to say, last night, that you had not been apprised of my inten- tion to offer for Westminster on the apprehended vacancy. 1 am confident you have acted under that impression ; but I must impute to you either great inattention to what fell from me in our last conversation on the subject, or great inaccuracy of re- collection ; for I solemnly protest I considered you as the indi vidual most distinctly apprised, that at this moment to succeed that great man and revered friend in Westminster, should the fa tal event take place, would be the highest object of my ambi tion ; for, in that conversation I thanked you expressly for in forming me that Lord Grenville had said to yourself, upon Lord Percy being suggested to him, that he. Lord Grenville, 'would decide on nothing until Mr. Sheridan had been spoken to, and his intentions known,'' or words precisely to that effect. I expressed my grateful sense of Lord Grenville's attention, and said, that it 244 MEliiOIES OF THE LIFE OF THE would confirm me \n my intention of making no application^ however hopeless myself respecting Mr. Fox, while life remained with him, — and these words of Lord Grenville you allowed last night to have been so stated to me, though not as a message from His Lordship. Since that time 1 think we have not hap- pened to meet ; at least sure I am, we have had no conversation on the subject. Having the highest opinion of Lord Grenville's honor and sincerity, I must be confident that he must have had another impression made on his mind respecting my wishes be- fore I w^as entirely passed by. I do not mean to say that my offering myself was immediately to entitle me to the support of Government, but I do m^ean to say, that my pretensions were entitled to consideration before that support was offered to ano- ther without the slightest notice taken of me, — the more espe- cially as the words of Lord Grenville, reported by you to me, had been stated by me to many friends as my reliance and jus- tification in not following their advice by making a direct appli- cation to Government. I pledged myself to them that Lord Grenville would not promise the support of Government till my intentions had been asked, and I quoted your authority for domg so : I never heard a syllable of that support being promised to Lord Percy until from you on the evening of Mr. Fox's death. Did I ever authorize you to inform Lord Grenville that I had abandoned the idea of offering myself? These are points which it is necessary, for the honor of all parties, should be amicably explained. I therefore propose, as the shortest way of effecting it, — wishing you not to consider this letter as in any degree con- fidential, — that my statements in this letter may be submitted to any two common friends, or to the Lord Chancellor alone, and let it be ascertained where the error has arisen, for error is all I complain of; and, with regard to Lord Grenville, I desire dis- tinctly to say, that I feel myself indebted for the fairness and kindness of his intentions towards me. My disappomtment of the protection of Government may be a sufHcient excuse to the friends I am pledged to, should I retire; but I must have it HIGHT HON. BICHAED BEI^'SLEY SHERIDAN. 245 understood whether or not I deceived them, when I led them to expect that I should have that support. *' 1 hope to remain ever yours sincerely, " R. B. Sheridan. '' The sooner the reference I propose the better." The second letter, which is still further explanatory of the naisconception, was addressed by Sheridan to Lord Grenville : " My dear Lord, " Since I had the honor of Your Lordship's letter, I have re- ceived one from Mr. , in which, I am sorry to observe he is silent as to my offer of meeting, in the presence of a third per- son, in order to ascertain whether he did or not so report a con- versation with Your Lordship as to impress on my mind a belief that my pretensions would be considered, before the support of Government should be pledged elsewhere. Instead of this, he not only does not admit the precise words quoted by "me, but does not state what he allows he did say. If he denies that he ever gave me reason to adopt the belief I have stated, be it so ; but the only stipulation I have made is that we should come to an explicit understanding on this subject, — not with a view to quot- ing words or repeating names, but that the misapprehension, whatever it was, may be so admitted as not to leave me under an unmerited degree of discredit and disgi*ace. Mr. cer- tainly never encouraged me to stand for Westminster, but, on the contrary, advised me to support Lord Percy, which made me the more mark at the time the fairness with which I thought he apprised me of the preference my pretensions were likely to re ceive in Your Lordship's consideration. " Unquestionably Your Lordship's recollection of what passed between Mr. and yourself must be just ; and were it no more than what you said on the same subject to Lord Howick, I consider it as a mark of attention ; but what has astonished me is, that Mr. should ever have informed Your Lordship, p be admits he did, that I had no intention of offering iiijselfp 246 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE This naturally must have put from your mmd whatever degree of disposition was there to have made a preferable application to me ; and Lord Howick's answer to your question, on which I have ventured to make a friendly remonstrance, must have con- firmed Mr. 's report. But allow me to suppose that 1 had myself seen Your Lordship, and that you had explicitly promised me the support of Government, and had afterwards sent for me and informed me that it was at all an object to you that I should give way to Lord Percy, I assure you, with the utmost sincerity, that I should cheerfully have withdrawn myself, and applied eve- ry interest I possessed as your Lordship should have directed. " All I request is, that what passed between me and Mr. may take an intelligible shape before any common friend, or be- fore Your Lordship. This I conceive to be a preliminary due to my own honor, and what he ought not to evade." The Address w^hich he delivered, at the Crown and Anchor Tavern, in declining the offer of support which many of the elec- tors still pressed upon him, contains some of those touches of personal feeling which a biographer is more particularly bound to preserve. In speaking of Mr. Fox, he said, — '' It is true there have been occasions upon which I have differed with him — painful recollections of the most painful moments of my political life! Nor were there wanting those who endeavored to represent these differ- ences as a departure from the homage which his superior mind, though un- claimed by him, was entitled to, and from the allegiance of friendship which our hearts all swore to him. But never was the genuine and con- fiding texture of his soul more manifest than on such occasions ; he knew that nothing on earth could detach me from him ; and he resented insinua- tions against the sincerity and integrity of a friend, which he would not have noticed had they been pointed against himself. With such a man to have battled in the cause of genuine liberty,— with such a man to have struggled against the inroads of oppression and corruption, — with such an example before me, to have to boast that I never in my life gave one vot^ in Parliament that was not on the side of freedom, is the congratulation that attends the retrospect of my public life. ., His friendship was the pride and honor of my days. I never, for one moment, regretted to share wiih him the difficulties, the caiunmies, and sometimes even the dangers, th/it BIGHT HO^^. KICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 247 attended an honorable course. And now, reviewing my past political iife^ were the option possible that I should retread the path. I solemnly and de- liberately declare that I would prefer to pursue the same course ; to bear up inder the same pressure ; to abide by the same principles ; and remain by his side an exile from power, distinction, and emolument, rather than be at this moment a splendid example of successful servility or prosperous apostacy, though clothed with power, honor, titles, gorged with sinecures, and lord of hoards obtained from the plunder of the people.'' At the conclusion of his Address he thus alludes, with evi- dently a deep feeling of discontent, to the circumstances that had obliged him to decline the honor now proposed to him : — " Hliberal warnings have been held out, most unauthoritatively I know, that by persevering in the present contest I may risk my official situation, and if I reth'e, I am aware, that minds, as coarse and illiberal, may assign the dread of that as ray motive. To such insinuations I shall scorn to make any other reply than a reference to the whole of my past political career. I consider it as no boast to say, that any one who has struggled through such a portion of life as I have, without obtaining an office, is not likely to abandon his principles to retain one when acquired. If riches do not give independence, the next best thing to being very rich is to have been used to be very poor. But independence is not allied to v/ealth, to birth, to rank, to power, to titles, or to honor. Independence is in the mind of a man, or it is no where. On this ground were I to decline the contest, I should scorn the imputation that should bring the purity of my purpose into doubt. No Minister can expect to find in me a servile vassal. No Mi- nister can expect from me the abandonment of any principle I have avowed, or any pledge I have given. I know not that I have hitherto shrunk in place from opinions I have maintained while in oppposition. Did there exist a Minister of a different cast from any I know in being, were he to attempt to exact from me a different conduct, my office should be at his service to-morrow. Such a Minister might strip me of my situation, in some respects of considerable emolument, but he could not strip me of the proud conviction that I was right ; he could not strip me of my own self-esteem ; he could not strip me, I think, of some portion of the confidence and good opinion of the people. But I am noticing the calumnious threat I allude to more than it deserves. There can be no peril, I venture to assert, un- der the present Government, in the ii-ee exercise of discretion, such as be- longs to the present question. I therefore disclaim the merit of putting anything to hazard. If I have missed the opportunity of obtaining all the support I might, perhaps, have had on the present occasion, from a very 248 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE scrupulous delicacy, whicli I tlii,nk became and was incumbent upon me, but which I by no means conceive to have been a fit rule for others, I can not repent it. While the slightest aspiration of breath passed those lips, now closed for ever, — while one drop of life's blood beat in that heart, now cold for ever, — I could not, I ought not, to have acted otherwise than I did. — I now come with a very embarrassed feeling to that declaration which I yet think you must have expected from me, but which I make with re- luctance, because, from the marked approbation I have experienced from you, I fear that with reluctance you will receive it. — I feel myself under the necessity of retiring from this contest.'' About three weeks after, ensued the Dissolution of Parliament, •—a measure attended with considerable unpopularity to the Ministry, and originating as much in the enmity of one of its members to Lord Sidmouth, as the introduction of that noble Lord among them, at all, was owing to the friendship of another. In consequence of this event. Lord Percy having declined offering himself again, Mr. Sheridan became a candidate for Westmmster, and after a most riotous contest with a demagogue of the mo- ment, named Paull, was. together with Sir Samuel Hood, declared duly elected. The moderate measure in favor of the Roman Catholics, which the Ministry now thought it due to the expectations of that body to bring forward, was, as might be expected, taken advantage of by the King to rid himself of their counsels, and produced one of those bursts of bigotry, by which the people of England have so often disgraced themselves. It is sometimes a misfortune to men of wit, that they put their opinions in a form to be remem- bered. We might, perhaps, have been ignorant of the keen, but worldly view which Mr. Sheridan, on this occasion, took of the hardihood of his colleagues, if he had not himself expressed it in a form so portable to the memory. " He had often," he said, "• heard of people knocking out their brains against a wall, but never before knew of any one building a wall expressly for the purpose." It must be o\vned, indeed, that, thoucrh far too saojaeious and liberal not to be deeply impressed with the justice of the claims advanced b^^ the Catholics, he was not altogether disposed to go EIGHT HON. EICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 249 those generous lengths in their favor, of which Mr. Fox and a few- others of their less calculating friends were capable. It was his avowed opinion, that, though the measure, whenever brought for- ward, should be supported and enforced by the whole weight of the party, they ought never so far to identify or encumber them selves with it, as to make its adoption a sine-qua-non of their acceptance or retention of office. His support, too, of the Min- istry of Mr. Addington, which was as virtually pledged against the Catholics as that which now succeeded to power, sufficiently shows the secondary station that this great question occupied in his mind ; nor can such a deviation from the usual tone of his po- litical feelings be otherwise accounted for, than by supposing that he was aware of the existence of a strong indisposition to the measure in that quarter, by whose views and wishes his public conduct was, in most cases, regulated. On the general question, however, of the misgovernment of Ireland, and the disabilities of the Catholics, as forming its most prominent feature, his zeal was always forthcoming and ardent, — and never more so than during the present Session, when, on the question of the Irish Arms Bill, and his own motion upon the State of Ireland, he distinguished himself by an animation and vigor worthy of the best period of his eloquence. Mr. Grattan, in supporting the coercive measures now adopted against his country, had shov/n himself, for once, alarmed into a concurrence with the wretched system of governing by Insurrec- tion Acts, and, for once, lent his sanction to the principle upon vAich all such measures are founded, namely, that of enabling Power to defend itself against the consequences of its own ty- ranny and injustice. In alluding to some expressions used by this great man, Sheridan said : — » " He now happened to recollect what was said by a Right Honorable Gentleman, to whose opinions they all deferred, (Mr. Grattan,) that not- withstanding he voted for the present measure, with all its defects, rather than lose it althgether, yet that gentleman said, that he hoped to secure the revisionary Interest of the Constitution to Ireland. But when he saw that the Constitution was suspended from the year 1796 to the present pe- ytj., II, ij^' 250 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE riod, and that it was now likely to be continued for tltree years longer, the danger was that we might lose the interest altogether ; — when we were mortgaged for such a length of time, at last a foreclosure might take place.*' The following is an instance of that happy power of applying old stories, for which Mr. Windham, no less than Sheridan, was remarkable, and which, by promoting anecdote into the service of argument and wit, ennobles it, when trivial, and gives new youth to it, when old. " When they and others complain of the discontents of the Irish, they never appear to consider the cause. "When they express their surprise that the Irish are not contented, while according to their observation, that peo- ple have so much reason to be happy, they betray a total ignorance of their actual circumstances. The fact is, that the tyranny practised upon the Irish has been throughout unremitting. There has been no change but in the manner of inflicting it. They have had nothing but variety in oppression, extending to all ranks and degrees of a certain description of the people. If you would know what this varied oppression consisted in, I refer you to the Penal Statutes you have repealed, and to some of those which still ex- ist. There you will see the high and the low equally subjected to the lash of persecution ; and yet still some persons affect to be astonished at the discontents of the Irish. But with all my reluctance to introduce any thing ludicrous upon so serious an occasion, I cannot help referring to a liltle story whicli those very astonished persons call to my mind. It was with re- spect to an Irish drummer, who was employed to inflict punishment upon a soldier. When the boy struck high, the poor soldier exclaimed, ' Lower, bless you,' with which the boy complied. But soon after the soldier ex- claimed, ' Higher if you please,' But again he called out, *A little lower ;' upon which the accommodating boy addressed him — ' Now, upon my con- science, I see you are a disconteuted man ; for, strike where I may, there's no pleasing you.' Nov/ your complaint of the discontents of the Irish ap- pears to me quite as rational, while you continue to strike, only altering the place of attack." Upon this speech, which may be considered as the hotiqmt^ or last parting blaze of his eloquence, he appears to have bestowed considerable care and thought. The concluding sentences of the following passage, though in his very worst taste, were as anx- iously labored by hun^ and put through as many rehearsals oi> BIGHT HON. KICHAED BEIInSLEY SHEEIDAN. 251 paper, as any of the most highly finished mtticisms in The School for Scandal. " I cannot think patiently of such petty squabbles, while Bonaparte is grasping the nations ; while he is surrounding France, not with that iron frontier, for which the wish and childish ambition of Louis XIY. was so eager, but with kingdoms of his own creation ; securing the gratitude of higher minds as the hostage, and the fears of others as pledges for his safety. His are no ordinary fortifications. His martello towers are thrones ; sceptres tipt with crowns are the palisadoes of his entrenchments, and Kings are his sentinels." The Reporter here, by " tipping " the sceptres " with crowns," has improved, rather unnecessarily, upon the finery of the origi- nal. The following are specimens of the various trials of this passage which I find scribbled over detached scraps of paper : — '' Contrast the different attitudes and occupations of the two govern- ments : — B. eighteen months from his capital, — head-quarters in the vil- lages, — neither Berlin nor Yv^arsaw, — dethroning aud creating thrones, — the works he raises are monarchies, — sceptres his palisadoes, thrones his martello towers.' ' " Commissioning kings, — erecting thrones, — martello towers, — Camba- ceres count noses, — Austrians, fine dressed, like Pompey's troops." •' B. fences with sceptres, — his martello towers are thrones, — he alone is France." Another Dissolution of Parliament having taken place this year, he again became a candidate for the city of Westminster. But, after a violent contest, during which he stood the coarse abuse of the mob with the utmost good humor and playfulness, the election ended in favor of Sir Francis Burdett and Lord Cochrane, and Sheridan was returned, with his friend Mr. Michael Angelo Taylor, for the borough of llchester. In the autumn of 1807 he had conceived some idea of leasing the property of Drury-Lane Theatre, and with that view had set on foot, through Mr. Michael Kelly, who was then in Ireland, a negotiation with Mr. Frederick Jones, the proprietor of the Dublin Theatre. In explaining his object to Mr. Kelly, in a let- ter dated August 30, 1807 ho describes it as "a plan by which 252 MEMOIKS OF THE LIFE OF THE the property may be leased to those who have the skill and the industry to manage it as it should be for their own advantage, upon terms which would render any risk to them almost impos- sible; — the profit to them, (he adds,) would probably be be- yond what I could now venture to state, and yet upon terms which would be much better for the real proprietors than any thing that can arise from the careless and ignorant manner in which the undertaking is now misconducted by those who, my son excepted, have no interest in its success, and who lose nothing by its failure." The negotiation with Mr. Jones was continued into the follow- ing year; and, according to a draft of agreement, which this gentleman has been kind enough to show me, in Sheridan's hand- writing, it was intended that Mr. Jones should, on becoming proprietor of one quarter-share of the property, " undertake the management of the Theatre in conjunction with Mr. T. Sheridan, and be entitled to the same remuneration, namely, 1000/. per annum certain income, and a certain per centage on the net pro- fits arising from the office-receipts, as should be agreed upon," &;c. &c. The following memorandum of a bet connected with this trans- action, is of somewhat a higher class of wagers than the One Tun Tavern has often had the honor of recording among its ar- chives : — " One Tun, St. James's Market, May 26, 1808. '' In the presence of Messrs. G. Ponsonby, R. Power, and Mr. Becher,* Mr. Jones bets Mr. Sheridan five hundred guineas that he, Mr. Sheridan, does not write, and produce under his name, a play of five acts, or a first piece of three, within the term of three years from the 15th of September next. — It is distinctly to be understood that this bet is not valid unless Itlr. * It is not without a deep feeling of melancholy that I transcribe this paper. Of three of my most valued friends, whose names are signed to it, — Becher, Ponsonby, and Power, — the last has, within a few short months, been snatched away, leaving behind him the recollection of as many gentle and manly virtues as ever conciu red to give sweetness and strength to character RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLET SHERIDAN. 253 Jones becomes a partner in Drury-Lane Theatre before the commencement of the ensuing season. '' Richard Power, " R. B. Sheridan, " George Ponsonby, *• Fred. Edw. Jones. " W. W. Becher. " N. B. — W. W. Becher and Richard Power join, one fifty, — the other one hundred pounds in this bet. " R. POWER.'^ The grand movement of Spain, in the year 1808, which led to consequences so important to the rest of Europe, though it has left herself as enslaved and priest-ridden as ever, was hailed by Sheridan with all that prompt and well-timed ardor, with which he alone, of all his party, knew how to meet such great occa- sions. Had his political associates but learned from his exam- ple thus to place themselves in advance of the procession of events, they would not have had the triumphal wheels pass by them and over them so frequently. Immediately on the arrival of the Deputies from Spain, he called the attention of the House to the affairs of that country ; and his speech on the subject, though short and unstudied, had not only the merit of falling in with the popular feeling at the moment, but, from the views which it pointed out through the bright opening now made by Spain, was every way calculated to be useful both at home and abroad. '' Let Spain," he said, '' see, that we were not inclined to stint the ser- vices we had it in our power to render her ; that we were not actuated by the desire of any petty advantage to ourselves ; but that our exertions were to be solely directed to the attainment of the grand and general ob- ject, the emancipation of the world. If the flame were once fairly caught, our success was certain. France would then find, that she had hitherto been contending only against principalities, powers, and authorities, but that she had now to contend against a people.'' The death of Lord Lake this year removed those difficulties which had, ever since the appointment of Sheridan to the Re.- eeivership of the Duchy of Cornwall, stood in the way of his reaping the full advantages of that office. Previously to the departure of General Lake for India, the Prince had granted to 254 MEMOiKS OF THE LIFE OP THEJ him the reversion of this situation which was then filled by Lord Elliot. It was afterwards, however, discovered that, according to the terms of the Grant, the place could not be legally held or deputed by any one who had not been actually sworn into it be- fore the Prince's Council. On the death of Lord Elliot, there- fore, His Royal Highness thought himself authorized, as we have seen, in conferring the appointment upon Mr. Sheridan. This step, however, was considered by the friends of General Lake as not only a breach of promise, but a violation of right ; and it would seem from one of the documents which I am about to give, that measures were even in train for enforcing the claim by law. The first is a Letter on the subject from Sheridan to Colonel M'Mahon: — " My dear M'Mahox, Thursday evening, " I have thoroughly considered and reconsidered the subject we talked upon to-day. Nothing on earth shall make me risk the possibility of the Prince's goodness to me furnishing an op- portunity for a single scurrilous fool's presuming to hint even that he had, in the slightest manner, departed from the slightest engagement. The Prince's right, in point of law and justice, on the present occasion to recall the appointment given, I hold to be incontestable ; but, believe me, I am right in the proposition I took the liberty of submitting to His Royal Highness, and which (so far is he from wishing to hurt General Lake,) he gra- ciously approved. But understand me, — my meaning is to give up the emoluments of the situation to General Lake, holding the situation at the Prince's pleasure, and abiding by an arbitrated estimate of General Lake's claim, supposing His Royal High- ness had appointed him ; in other words, to value his interest in the appointment as if he had it, and to pay him for it or resign to him. " With the Prince's permission I should be glad to meet Mr. Warwick Lake, and I am confident that no two men of common sense and good intentions can fail, in ten minutes, to arrange it so as to meet the Prince's wishes, and not to leave the shadow niGHT HOK. RiCHAItD BEIKSLEY SHERIDAN. 255 of a pretence for envious malignity to whisper a word against his decision. '' Yours ever, " R. B. Sheridan. " I write in great haste — going to A ." The other Paper that I shall give, as throwing light on the transaction, is a rough and unfinished sketch by Sheridan of a statement intended to be transmitted to General Lake, containing the particulars of both Grants, and the documents connected with them : — " Dear General, " I am commanded by the Prince of Wales to transmit to you a correct Statement of a transaction in which your name is so much implicated, and in which his feelings have been greatly wounded from a quarter, I am commanded to say, wdience he did not expect such conduct. " As I am directed to communicate the particulars in the most authentic form, you will, I am sure, excuse on this occasion my not adopting the mode of a familiar letter. " Authentic Statement respecting the Appointment by His Royal • Highness the Prince of Wales to the Receivership of the Duchy of Cornwall, in the Year 1804, to be transmitted by His Royal Highness's Command, to Lieu tenant-General Lake, Command- er-in-Chief of the Forces in India. " The circumstances attending th^ original reversionary Grant to General Lake are stated in the brief for Counsel on this occa- sion by Mr. Bignell, the Prince's solicitor, to be as follow : (No. I.) It w\as afterw^ards understood by the Prince that the service he had wished to render General Lake, by this Grant, had been defeated by the terms of It ; and so clearly had it been shown that there were essential duties attached to the office, which no Deputy was competent to execute, and that a Deputy, even for the collection of the rents, could not be appointed but by a principal actually in possession of the office, (by having 256 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE been sworn into it before his Council,) that upon General Lakers appointment to the command in India, the Prince could have no conception that General Lake could have left the country under an impression or expectation that the Prince would appoint him, in case of a vacancy, to the place in question. Accordingly, His Eoyal Highness, on the very day he heard of the death of Lord Elliot, unsolicited, and of his own graciou.s suggestion, appointed Mr. Sheridan. Mr. Sheridan returned, the next day, in a letter to the Prince, such an answer and acknovrdedgment as might be expected- from him; and, accordingly, directions were given to make out his patent. On the ensuing His Eoyal High- ness was greatly surprised at receiving the following letter from Mr. "Warwick Lake. (No. II.) " His Royal Highness immediately directed Mr. Sheridan to see Mr. W. Lake, and to state his situation, and how the office was circumstanced ; and for further distinctness to make a minute in writinof * * * *." Such were the circumstances that had, at first, embarrassed his enjoym.ent of this office ; but, on the death of Lord Lake, all difficulties were removed, and the appointment was confirmed to Sheridan for his life. In order to afibrd some insight into the nature of that friend- ship, which existed so long between the Heir Apparent and Sheridan, — though unable, of course, to produce any of the numerous letters, on the Eoyal side of the correspondence, that have been found among the papers in my possession, — I shall here give, from a rough copy in Sheridan's hand-writing, a letter which he addressed about this time to the Prince : — " It is matter of surprise to myself, as well as of deep regret, that I should have incurred the appearance of ungrateful neglect and disrespect towards the person to whom I am most oblig- ed on earth, to whom I feel the most ardent, dutiful, and affectionate attachment, and in whose service I would readily sacrifice my life. Yet so it i^, and to nothing but a perverse illGHl^ HOir. RICHAIlt) BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 25? combination of circumstances, v/hich would form no excuse were I to recapitulate them, can I attribute a conduct so strange on my part ; and from nothing but Your Eoyal Highness's kind- ness and benignity alone can I expect an indulgent allowance and oblivion of that conduct : nor could I even hope for this were I not conscious of the unabated and unalterable devotion towards Your Royal Highness which lives in my heart, and wdll ever con tinue to be its pride and boast. " But I should ill deserve the indulgence I request did I not frankly state what has passed in my mind, which, though it can- not justify, may, in some degree, extenuate what must have ap- peared so strange to Your Royal Highness, previous to Your Royal Highness's having actually restored me to the office I had resigned. " I was mortified and hurt in the keenest manner by having repeated to me from an authority which / then trusted^ some ex- pressions of Your Royal Highness respecting me, which it was impossible I could have deserved. Though I was most solemnly pledged never to reveal the source from which the communica- tion came, I for some time intended to unburthen my mind to my sincere friend and Your Royal Highness's most attached and excellent servant, M'Mahon — but I suddenly discovered, beyond a doubt, that I had been grossly deceived, and that there had not existed the slightest foundation for the tale that had been imposed on me; and I do humbly ask Your Royal Highness's pardon for having for a moment credited a fiction suggested by mischief and malice. Yet, extraordinary as it must seem, I had so long, under this false impression, neglected the course which duty and grati- tude required from me, that I felt an unaccountable shyness and reserve in repairing my error, and to this procrastination other unlucky circumstances contributed. One day when I had the honor of meeting Your Royal Highness on horseback in Oxford- Street, though your manner was as usual gracious and kind to me, you said that I had deserted you privately and politically, I had long before that been assured, though falsely I am con- vinced, that Your Royal Highness had promised to make a point ^58 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE that I should neither speak nor vote on Lord Wellesly's business^ My view of this topic, and my knowledge of the delicate situa- tion in which Your Koyal Highness stood in respect to the Catholic question, though weak and inadequat-e motives, I confess, yet encouraged the continuance of that reserve which my original error had commenced. These subjects being passed by, — arid sure I am Your Royal Highness would never deliberately ask me to adopt a course of debasing inconsistency, — it was my hope fully and frankly to have explained myself and repaired my fault, when I was informed that a circumstance that happened at Burlington-House, and which must have been heinously mis- represented, had greaily offended you ; and soon after it was stated to me, by an authority which I have no objection to dis- close, that Your Royal Highness had quoted, with marked dis- approbation, words supposed to have been spoken by me on the Spanish question, and of which words, as there is a God in heaven, I never uttered one syllable. " Most justly may Your Royal Highness answer to all this, w^hy have I not sooner stated these circumstances, and confided in that uniform friendship and protection which I have so long experienced at your hands. I can only plead a nervous, procras- tinatmg nature, abetted, perhaps, by sensations of, I trust, no false pride, which, however I may blame myself, impel me in- voluntarily to fly from the risk of even a cold look from the quarter to which I owe so much, and by whom to be esteemed is the glory and consolation of my private and public life. " One point only remains for me to intrude upon Your Royal Highness's consideration, but it is of a nature fit only for per- sonal communication. I therefore conclude, with again entreat- h]g Your Royal Highness to continue and extend the indulgence which the imperfections in my character have so often received from you, and yet to be assured that there never did exist to Monarch, Prince, or man, a firmer or purer attachment than I feci, and to my death shall feel, to you, my gracious Prince &ud Master." HiGHT HOIs^. KICHARD BRlNSLEY SHERIDAK, 259 CHAPTER X. DESTRUCTION" OF THE THEATRE OF DRURY-LANE BY FIRE. — MR. WHITBREAD. — PLAN FOR A THIRD THEATRE. — ILL- NESS OF THE KING. — REGENCY. — LORD GREY AND LORD GRENYILLE. — CONDUCT OF MR. SHERIDAN. — HIS VINDI- CATION OF HIMSELF. With the details of the embarrassments of Drury-Lane Theatre, I have endeavored, as little as possible, to encumber the attention of the reader. This part of my subject would, indeed, require a volume to itself. The successive partnerships entered into with Mr. Grubb and Mr. Richardson, — the different Trust-deeds for the general and individual property, — the various creations of shares, — the controversies between the Trustees and Proprietors, as to the obligations of the Deed of 1793, which ended in a Chancery-suit in 1799, — the perpetual entanglements of the property which Sheridan's private debts occasioned, and which even the friendship and skill of Mr. Adam were wearied out in endeavoring to rectify, — all this would lead to such a mass of de- tails and correspondence as, though I have waded through it my- self, it is by no means necessary to inflict upon others. The great source of the involvements, both of Sheridan him- self and of the concern, is to be found in the enormous excess of the expense of rebuilding the Theatre in 1793, over the aaiount stated by the architect in his estimate. This amount was 75,000/. ; and the sum of 150,000/. then raised by subscription, would, it was calculated, in addition to defraying this charge, pay off also the mortgage-debts with which the Theatre was encumbered. It was soon found, however, that the expense of building the House alone would exceed the whole amount raised by subscription ; and, notwithstanding the advance of a consider- 260 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE able sum beyond the estimate, the Theatre was delivered in a very unfinished state into the hands of the proprietors, — only part of the mortgage-debts was paid off, and, altogether a debt of 70,000Z. was left upon the property. This debt Mr. Sheridan and the other proprietors took, voluntarily, and, as it has been thought, inconsiderately, upon themselves, — the builders, by their contracts, having no legal claim upon them, — and the payment of it being at various tim.es enforced, not only against the theatre, but against the private property of Mr. Sheridan, in- volved both in a degree of embarrassment from w^hich there appeared no hope of extricating them. Such was the state of this luckless property, — and it would have been difficult to imagine any change for the worse that could befall it, — when, early in the present year, an event occurred, that seemed to fill up at once the measure of its ruin. On the night of the 24th of February, w^hile the House of Com- mons was occupied with Mr. Ponsonby's motion on the Conduct of the War in Spain, and Mr. Sheridan was in attendance, with the intention, no doubt, of speaking, the House was suddenly illuminated by a blaze of light ; and, the Debate being interrupt- ed, it was ascertained that the Theatre of Drury-Lane w^as on fire. A motion was made to adjourn ; but Mr. Sheridan said, with much calmness, that " whatever might be the extent of the private calamity, he hoped it would not interfere with the pub- lic business of the country." He then left the House ; and, pro- ceeding to Drury-Lane, witnessed, wdth a fortitude which strong- ly interested all who observed him, the entire destruction of his property.* Among his losses on the occasion there was one which, from being associated with feelings of other times, may have affected * II is said thai, as he sat at the Piazza Coffee-house, during the fire, taking some re- freshment, a friend of his having remarked on the philosophic calmness with which he bore his misfortune, Sheridan answered, " A man may surely be allowed to take a glass of wine by Ids ovon fire-side.'''' Without vouching for the authenticity or novelty of this anecdote, (which may have been, for aught I know, like the wandering Jew, a regular attendant upon all fires, since the time of Ilierocles,) I give it as I aeard it. RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 261 him, perhaps, more deeply than many that were far more serious. A harpsichord, that had belonged to his first wife, and had long survived her sweet voice in silent widowhood, was, with other articles of furniture that had been moved from Somerset-House to the Theatre, lost in the flames. The ruin thus brought upon this immense property seemed, for a time, beyond all hope of retrieval. The embarrassments of the concern were known to have been so great, and such a swarm of litigious claims lay slumbering under those ashes, that it is not surprising the public should have been slow and unwil- ling to touch them. Nothing, indeed, short of the intrepid zeal of Mr. Whitbread could have ventured upon the task of reme- dying so complex a calamity ; nor could any industry less per- severing have compassed the miracle of rebuilding and re-animat- ing that edifice, among the many-tongued claims that beset and perplexed his enterprise. In the following interesting letter to him from Sheridan, we trace the first steps of his friendly interference on the occasion : — "My Dear Whithbread, " Procrastination is always the consequence of an indolent man's resolv- ing to write a long detailed letter, upon any subject, hov>^ever important to himself, or whatever may be the confidence he has in the friend he pro- poses to write to. To this must be attributed your having escaped the state- ment I threatened you with in ray last letter, and the brevity with which I now propose to call your attention to the serious, and, to me, most impor- tant request, contained in this, — reserving all I meant to have written for personal communication. '' I pay you no compliment when I say that, without comparison, you are ihe man liviui^:. in my estimation, the most disposed and the most compe- tent to bestow a portion of your time and ability to assist the call of friendship, — on the condition that that call shall be proved to be made in a cause just and honorable, and in every respect entitled to your pro- tection. " On this ground alone I make my application to you. You said, some time since, in my house, but in a careless conversation only, that you would be a Member of a Committee forrebuildingDrury-LaneTheatre, if it would serve me ; and, indeed, you very kindly suggested, yourself, that there were more persons disposed to assist that object than I might be aware 262 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE of. I most thankfully accept the offer of your interference, and am con* vinced of the benefits your friendly exertions are competent to produce. I have worked the whole subject in my own mind, and see a clear way to retrieve a great property, at least to my son and his family, if my plan meets the support I hope it will appear to merit. • " Writing thus to you in the sincerity of private friendship, and the reli- ance I place on my opinion of your character, I need not ask of you, though eager and active in politics as you are, not to be severe in criticising my palpable neglect of all parliamentary duty. It would not be easy to ex- plain to you, or even to make you comprehend, or any one in prosperous and affluent plight, the private difficulties I have to struggle with. My mind, and the resolute independence belonging to it, has not been in the least subdued by the late calamity ; but the consequences arising from it have more engaged and embarrassed me than, perhaps, I have been wil- ling to allow. It has been a principle of my life, persevered in through great difficulties, never to borrow money of a private friend ; and this re- solution I would starve rather than violate. Of course, I except the politi- cal aid of election-subscription. When I ask you to take a part in the set- tlement of my shattered aifairs, I ask you only to do so after a previous in- vestigation of every part of the past circumstances which relate to the trust I wish you to accept, in conjunction with those who wish to serve me, and to whom I think you could not object. I may be again seized with an ill- ness as alarming as that I lately experienced. Assist me in relieving my mind fi'om the greatest affliction that such a situation can again produce, — the fear of others suffering by ray death. " To effect this little more is necessary than some resolution on my part, and the active superintending advice of a mind like yours. " Thus far on paper . I will see you next , and therefore will not trouble you for a written reply.'- Encouraged by the opening which the destruction of Drury- Lane seemed to offer to free adventure in theatrical property, a project was set on foot for the establishment of a Third Great Theatre, which, being backed by much of the influence and wealth of the city of London, for some time threatened destruction to the monopoly that bad existed so long. But, by the exertions of Mr. Sheridan and his friends, this scheme was defeated, and a Bill for the erection of Drury-Lane Theatre by subscription, and for the incorporation of the subscribers, was passed through Parliament. That Mr. Sheridan himself would have had no objection to a Third Theatre, if held by a Joint Grant to the Proprietors of the BIGHT H02^^. KICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 263 Other two, appears not only from his speeches and petitions on the subject at this time, but from the following Plan for such an establishment, drawn up by him, some years before, and intend ed to be submitted to the consideration of the Proprietors of both Houses : — " Gentlemen, " According to your desire, the plan of the proposed Assistant Theatre is here explained in writing for your further consideration. " From our situations in the Theatres Royal of Drury-Lane and Covent- Garden we have had opportunities of observing many circumstances rela- tive to our general property, which must have escaped those who do not materially interfere in the management of that property. One point in par- ticular has lately weighed extremely in our opinions, which is, an appre- hension of a new Theatre being erected for some species or other of dramatic entertainment. Were this event to take place on an opposing interest, our property would sink in value one-half, and in all probability, the contest that would ensue would speedily end in the absolute ruin of one of the pre- sent established Theatres. We have reason, it is true, from His Majesty's gracious patronage to the present Houses, to hope, that a Third patent for a winter Theatre is not easily to be obtained ; but the motives v»'hich appear to call for one are so many, (and those of such a nature, as to increase every day,) that we cannot, on the maturest consideration of the subject, divest ourselves of the dread that such an event may not be very remote. With this apprehension before us, we have naturally fallen into a joint considera- tion of the means of preventing so fatal a blow to the present Theatres, or of deriving a general advantage from a circumstance which might other wise be our ruin. " Some of the leading motives for the establishment of a Third Theatre are as follows : — " 1st. The great extent of the town and increased residence of a higher class of people, who. on account of many circumstances, seldom frequent the Theatre. ^ "' 2d. The distant situation of the Theatres from the politer streets, and the dimculty with which ladies reach their carriages or chairs. " 8d. The small number of side-boxes, where only, by the uncontrollable influence of fashion, ladies of any rank can be induced to sit. " 4th. The earliness of the hour, which renders it absolutely impossible for those who attend on Parliament, live at any distance, or, indeed, for any person who dines at the prevailing hour, to reach the Theatre before the performance is half over. 264 MEMOIKS OF THE LIFE CF THE '' These considerations have lately been strongly urged to rae by many leading persons of rank. There has also prevailed, as appears by the num- ber of private plays at gentlemen's seats, an unusual fashion for theatrical entertainments among the politer class of people ; and it is not to be won- dered at that they, feeling themselves, (from the causes above enumerat- ed,) in a manner, excluded from our Theatres, should persevere in an en- deavor to establish some plan of similar entertainment, on principles of superior elegance and accommodation. *' In proof of this disposition, and the effects to be apprehended from it, we need but instance one fact, among many, which might be produced, and that is the well-known circumstance of a subscription having actually been beg-un last winter, with very powerful patronage, for the importation of a French company of comedians, a scheme which, though it might not have answered to the undertaking, v»'Ould certainly have been the founda- tion of other entertainments, v>hose opposition we should speedily have ex- perienced. The question, then, upon a full view of our situation, appears to be, whether the Proprietors of the present Theatres will contentedly wait till some other person takes advantage of the prevailing wish for a Third Theatre, or, having the remedy in their power, profit by a turn of fashion which they cannot control. " A full conviction that the latter is the only line of conduct which can give security to the Patents of Drury-Lane and Covent-Garden Theatres, and yield a probability of future advantage in the exercise of them, has prompted us to endeavor at modelling this plan, on which we conceive those Theatres may unite in the support of a Third, to the general and mu- tual advantage of all the Proprietors. ^' Proposals. " The Proprietors of the Theatre-Royal in Covent Garden appear to be possessed of two Patents, for the privilege of acting plays, &c., under one of which the above-mentioned Theatre is opened, — the other lying dormant and useless ; — it is proposed that this dormant Patent shall be exercised, (with His Majesty's approbation,) in order to license the dramatic perform- once of the new ThAtre to be erected. "It is proposed that the performances of this new Theatre shall be sup- ported from the united establi&hments of the two present Theatres, so that the unemployed part of each company may exert themselves for the ad- vantage of the whole. " As the object of this Assistant Theatre will be to reimburse the Pro- prietors of the other two, at the full season, for the expensive establishment they are obliged to maintain v/heu the town is almost empty, it is proposed, that the scheme of businesss to be adopted in the new Tlicatre sliall ditler RIGHT HON. BICHAKD BRINSLEY SHKEIDAN. 265 as mucli as possible from that of the other two, and that the performances at the new house shall be exhibited at a superior price, and shall commence at a later hour. '' The Proposers will undertake to provide a Theatre for the purpose, in a proper situation, and on the following terms : — If thej engage a Theatre to be built, being the property of the builder or builders, it must be for an agreed on rent, w^ith security for a term of years. In this case the Proprie- tors of the two present Theatres shall jointly and severally engage in the whole of the risk ; and the Proposers are ready, on equitable terms, to un- dertake the management of it. But, if the Proposers find themselves enabled, either on their own credit, or by the assistance of their friends. or on a plan of subscription, the mode being devised, and the security given by themselves, to become the builders of the Theatre, the interest in the building will, in that case, be the property of the Proposers, and they will undertake to demand no rent for the performances therein to be ex- hibited for the mutual advantage of the two present Theatres. " The Proposers will, in this case, conducting the business under the dor- mant Patent above mentioned, bind themselves, that no theatrical entertain- ments, as plays, farces, pantomimes, or English operas, shall at any time be exhibited in this Theatre but for the general advantage of the Proprietors of the two other Theatres ; the Proposers reserving to themselves any profit they can make of their building, converted to purposes distinct from the business of the Theatres. •' The Proposers, undertaking the management of the new Theatre, shall be entitled to a sum to be settled by the Proprietors at large, or by an equitable arbitration. '' It is proposed, that all the Proprietors of the two present Theatres Royal of Drury-Lane and Covent-Garden shall share all profits from the dramatic entertainments exhibited at the new Theatre ; that is, each shall be entitled to receive a dividend in proportion to the shares he or she pos- sesses of the present Theatres : first only deducting a certain nightly sum to be paid to the Proprietors of Covent-Garden Theatre, as a consideration for the license furnished by the exercise of their present dormant Patent. •' 'Fore Heaven ! the Plan's a good Plan ! I shall add a little Epilogue to-morrow. " R. B. S."' '' 'Tis now too late, and I've a letter to write Before I go to bed,— and then. Good Night." In the month of July, this year, the Installation of Lord Gren- ville, as Chancellor of Oxford, took place, and Mr. Sheridan was among the distinguished persons that attended the ceremony. As VOL. II. 12 266 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE a numlDer of honorar degrees were to be conferred on the occa- sion, it was expected, as a matter of course, that his name would be among those selected for that distinction ; and, to the honor of the University, it was the general wish among its leading mem- bers that such a tribute should be paid to his high political char acter. On the proposal of his name, however, (in a private meet- ing, I believe, held previously to the Convocation,) the words " Non placet''' were heard from two scholars, one of whom, it is said, had no nobler motive for his opposition than that Sheridan did not pay his father's tithes very regularly. Several efforts were made to win over these dissentients ; and the Rev. Mr. In- gram delivered an able and liberal Latin speech, in which he in- dignantly represented the shame that it would bring on the Uni- 'ersity, if such a name as that of Sheridan should be " clam suh- duciurri'' from the list. The two scholars, however, were im- movable ; and nothing remained but to give Sheridan intimation of their intended opposition, so as to enable him to decline the honor of having his name proposed. On his appearance, after- wards, in the Theatre, a burst of acclamation broke forth, with a general cry of " Mr. Sheridan among the- Doctors, — Sheridan among the Doctors ;" in compliance with which he was passed to the seat occupied by the Honorary Grfiduates, and sat, in un- robed distinction, among them, during the whole of the ceremo- nial. Few occurrences, of a public nature, ever gave him more pleasure than this reception. At the close of the year 1810, the malady, with which the king had been thrice before afflicted, returned ; and, after the usual adjournments of Parliament, it was found necessary to establish a Regency. On the question of the second adjournment, Mr. Sheridan took a line directly opposed to that of his party, and voted with the majority. That in this step he did not act from any previous concert with the Prince, appears from the following letter, addressed by him to His Royal Highness on the subject, and containing particulars which will prepare the mind of the reader to judge more clearly of the events that followed . — RIGHT HON. KICHAKD BKINSLEY SHERIDAN. 267 " Sir, " I felt infinite satisfaction when I was apprised that Your Royal Highness had been far from disapproving the line of conduct I had presumed to pursue, on the last question of adjournment in the House of Commons. Indeed, I never had a moment's doubt but that Your Royal Highness would give me credit that I was actuated on that, as I shall on every other occasion through my- existence, by no possible motive but the most sincere and un- mixed desire to look to Your Royal Highness's honor and true interest, as the objects of my political life, — directed, as I am sure your efforts will ever be, to the essential interests of the Country and the Constitution. To this line of conduct I am prompted by every motive of personal gratitude, and confirmed by every op- portunity, which peculiar circumstances and long experience have afforded me, of judging of your heart and understanding, — to the superior excellence of which, (beyond all, I believe, that ever stood in your rank and high relation to society,) I fear not to ad- vance my humble testimony, because I scruple not to say for myself, that I am no flatterer, and that I never foimd that to be- come one was the road to vour real regard. " I state thus much because it has been under the influence of these feelings that I have not felt myself warranted, (without any previous communication with Your Royal Highness,) to follow implicitly the dictates of others, in whom, however they may be my superiors in many qualities, I can subscribe to no superiority as to devoted attachment and duteous affection to Your Royal Highness, or in that practical knowledge of the public mind and character, upon which alone must be built that popular and per- sonal estimation of Your Royal Highness, so necessary to your future happiness and glory, and to the prosperity of the nation you are destined to rule over. " On these grounds, I saw no policy or consistency in unneces- sarily giving a general sanction to the examination of the physi- cians before the Council, and then attempting, on the question of adjournment, to hold that examination as naught. On these grounds, I have ventured to doubt the wisdom or propriety of 268 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE anj endeavor, (if any such endeavor has been made,) to in- duce Your Royal Highness, during so critical a moment, to stir an inch from the strong reserved post you have chosen, or give the slightest public demonstration of any future intended political preferences ; — convinced as I was that the rule of con- duct you had prescribed to yourself was precisely that which was gaining you the general heart, and rendering it impractica- ble for any quarter to succeed in annexing unworthy conditions to that most difficult situation, which you were probably so soon to be called on to accept. '• I may. Sir, have been guilty of error of judgment in both these respects, differing, as I fear I have done, from those whom I am bound so highly to respect ; but, at the same time, I deem it no presumption to say that, until better mstructed, I feel a strong confidence in the justness of my own view of the subject ; and simply because of this — I am sure that the decisions of that judg- ment, be they sound or mistaken, have not, at least, been rashly taken up, but were founded on deliberate zeal for your service and glory, unmixed, I will confidently soy, with any one selfish object or political purpose of my own." The same limitations and restrictions that Mr. Pitt proposed in 1789, v>^ere, upon the same principles, adopted by the present Minister : nor did the Opposition differ otherwise from their former line of argument, than by ommitting altogether that claim of Right for the Prince, which Mr. Fox had, in the pro- ceedings of 1789, asserted. The event that ensued is sufficiently well known. To the surprise of the public, (who expected, per- haps, rather than wished, that the Coalesced Party of which Lord Grey and Lord Grenville were the chiefs, should now succeed to ' power,) Mr. Perceval and his colleagues wero informed by the Regent that it w^as the intention of His Royal Highness to con- tinue them still in office. The share taken by Mr. Sheridan in the transactions that led to this decision, is one of those passages of his political life upon which the criticism of his own party has been most severely ex ercised, and into the details of which I feel most difficulty in en P.lGHT HON, RICHAED BETNSLEY SHEEIDAN. 269 tering : — because, however curious it may be to penetrate into these '' postscenia'' of public life, it seems hardly delicate, while so many of the chief actors are still upon the stage. As there exists, however, a Paper drawn up by Mr. Sheridan, containing what he considered a satisfactory defence of his conduct on this occasion, I should ill discharge my duty towards his memory, were I, from any scruples or predilections of my own, to deprive him of the advantage of a statement, on which he appears to have relied so confidently for his vindication. But, first, — in order fully to understand the whole course of feelings and circumstances, by which not only Sheridan, but his Royal Master, (for their cause is, in a great degree, identified,) were for some time past, predisposed towards the line of con- duct which they now pursued, — it will be necessary to recur to a ew antecedent events. By the death of Mr. Fox the chief persojial tie that connected the Heir- Apparent with the party of that statesman was broken. The political identity of the party itself had, even before that event, been, in a great degree, disturbed by a coalition against which Sheridan had always most strongly protested, and to which the Prince, there is every reason to believe, was by no means friendly. Immediately after the death of Mr. Fox, His Royal Highness made known his intentions of withdrawing from all personal interference in politics ; and, though still continuing his sanction to the remaining Ministry, expressed himself as no longer desirous of being considered " a party man."* During the short time that these Ministers continued in office, the un- derstanding between them and the Prince was by no means of that cordial and confidential kind, which had been invariably maintained during the life-time of Mr. Fox. On the contrary, *Tliis is the phrase used by the Prince himself, in a Letter addressed to a Noble Lord, (not long after the dismissal of the Grenville Ministry,) for the purpose of vindicating his own character from son e miputations cast upon it, in consequence of an interview which he had lately had with the King. This important exposition of the feelings o' His Royal Highness, which, more than any thing, throvrs liglu upon his subsequent conduct, was dra-WTi up by Sheridan ; and I had hoped that I should liave been able to lay it before tha reade." : — but the liberiy of perusing the Letter is all that has been allowed me. 270 MEMOiKS OF THE LIFE OF THE the impression on the mind of His Royal Highness, as well as on those of his immediate friends in the Ministry, Lord Moira and Mr. Sheridan, was, that a cold neglect had succeeded to the confidence with which they had hitherto been treated ; and that, neither in their opinions nor feelings, were they any longer suffi- ciently consulted or considered. The very measure, by which the Ministers ultimate]}^ lost their places, was, it appears, one of those w^hich the Illustrious Personage in question neither conceiv- ed himself to have been sufficiently consulted upon before its adoption, nor approved of afterwards. Such were the gradual loosenings of a bond, which at no time had promised much permanence ; and such the train of feelings and circumstances w^iich, (combining with certain prejudices in the Royal mind against one of the chief leaders of the party,) prepared the way for that result by which the Public was sur- prised in 1811, and the private details of which I shall now, as briefly as possible, relate. As soon as the Bill for regulating the office of Regent had passed the two Houses, the Prince, who, till then, had maintained a strict reserve with respect to his intentions, signified, through Mr. Adam, his pleasure that Lord Grenville should wait upon him. He then, in the most gracious manner, expressed to that Noble Lord his wish that he should, in conjunction with Lord Grey, prepare the Answer which his Royal Highness was, m a few days, to return to the Address of the Houses. The same confidential task was entrusted also to Lord Moira, with an ex- pressed desire that he should consult with Lord Grey and Lord Grenville on the subject. But tliis co-operation, as I understand, the two Noble Lords declined. One of the embarrassing consequences of Coalitions now ap- peared. The recorded opinions of Lord Grenville on the Regen- cy Question differed wholly and in principle not only from those of liis coadjutor in this task, but from those of the Royal person himself, whose sentiments he was called upon to interpret. In this difficulty, the only alternative that remained was so to neu- tralize the terms of the Answer upon the great point of differ- HraHr ho:n". righakd brinsley siieIiiDan-. 2?1 ence, as to preserve the consistency of the Eoyal ipeaker, with- out at the same time compromising that of his iVoble adviser. It required, of course, no small art and delic .cy thus to throw into the shade that distinctive opinion of Whigism, which Burke had clothed in his imperishable language in 1789, and which Fox had solemnly bequeathed to the Party, when ^' in bis upward flight , He left his mantle there.''* The Answer, drawn up by the Noble Lords, did not, it must be confessed, surmount this difficulty very skilfully. The asser- tion of the Prince's consistency was confined to two meagre sen- tences, in the first of which His Royal Highness was made to say : — " With respect to the proposed limitation of the authority to be entrusted to me, I retain my former opinion :" — and in the other, the expression of any decided opinion upon the Consti- tutional point is thus evaded : — " For such a purpose no restraint can be necessary to be imposed upon m.e." Somewhat less vague and evasive, however, was the justification of the opinion opposed to that of the Prince, in the following sentence : — '' That day- when I may restore to the King those powers, which as helonging mly to hiw^\ are in his name and in his behalf," &;c. &c. This, it will be recollected, is precisely the doctrine which, on the great question of limiting the Prerogative, Mr. Fox attributed to the Tories. In another passage, the Whig opinion of the Prince was thus tam.ely surrendered : — " Conscious that, whatever degree of confidence you may thinlc fit to repose in me," &:c.J The Answer, thus constructed, was, by the two Noble Lords, transmitted through Mr. Adam, to the Prince, who, " strongly objecting, (as we are told), to almost every part of it," acceded * Joanna Baillie. f The words which I have put in italics in Ihpse quotations, are. m the same manner, underlined in Sheridan's copy of the Paper, — doubtless, from a similar viev/ of their im- port to that which I have taken. X On the back o( Sheridan's own copy of this Answer, I find, written by him, the fol- lowing words : " Grenville's and Grey's proposed Answer from the Prince to the Address of the two Houses ; — ve y flimsy, and attempting to cover Grenville's conduct and cou- sistenf'y in sai»portmg the present Restrictions at the expense of the Prince.." 272 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THii to the suggestion of Sheridan, whom he consulted on the subject, that a new form of Answer should be immediately sketched out, and submitted to the consideration of Lord Grey and Lord Grenville. There was no time to be lost, as the Address of the Houses was to be received the following day. Accordingly, Mr. Adam and Mr. Sheridan proceeded that night, with the new draft of the Answer to HolUmd-House, where, after a warm discussion upon the subject with Lord Grey, which ended unsatisfactorily to both parties, the final result was that the Answer drawn up by the Prince and Sheridan was adopted. — Such is the bare outline of this transaction, the circumstances of which will be found fully detailed in the Statement that shall presently be given. The accusation against Sheridan is, that chiefly to his under- mining influence the viev/ taken by the Prince of the Paper of these Noble Lords is to be attributed ; and that not only was he censurable in a constitutional point of view, for thus interfering between the Sovereign and his responsible advisers, but that he had been also guilty of an act of private perfidy, in endeavoring to represent the Answer drawn up by these Noble Lords, as an attempt to sacrifice the consistency and dignity of their Royal Master to the compromise of opinions and principles which they had entered into themselves. Under the impression that such were the nature and motives of his interference. Lord Grey and Lord Grenville, on the 11th of January, (the day on which the Answer substituted for their own was delivered), presented a joint Representation to the Re- gent, in which they stated that " the circumstances which had occurred, respecting His Royal Highness's Answer to the two Houses, had induced them, most humbly, to solicit permission to submit to His Royal Highness the following considerations, with the undisguised sincerity which the occasion seemed to require, but, with every expression that could best convey their respectfuj duty and inviolable att^achment. When His Royal Highness, (they continued), did Lord Grenville the honor, through Mr. Adam, to command his attendance, it was distinctly expressed to him, that His Roval Highness had condescended to select him. felGHT HON. RiCHABt) BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 278 in conjunction with Lord Grey, to be consulted with, fis the pub- lic and responsible advisers of that Answer ; and Lord Grenville could never forget the gracious terms in which His Eoyal High- ness had the goodness to lay these his orders upon him. It was also on the same grounds of public and responsible advice, that Lord Grey, honored in like manner by the most gracious expres- sion of His T^oyal Highness's confidence on this subject, applied himself to the consideration of it conjointly with Lord Grenville. They could not but feel the difficulty of the undertaking, which required them to reconcile two objects essentially different, — to uphold and distiifctly to manifest that unshakmi adherence to His Royal Highness's past and present opinion, which consistency and honor required, but to conciliate, at the same time, the feel- ings of the two Houses, by expressions of confidence and affec- tion, and to lay the foundation of that good understanding be- tween His Royal Highness and the Parliament, the establish- ment of which must be the first w^ish of every man w^ho is truly attached to His Royal Highness, and w^ho knows the value of the Constitution of his country. Lord Grey and Lord Grenville were far from the presumption of believing that their humble endea- vors for the execution of so difficult a task might not be suscep- tible of many and great amendments. " The draft, (their Lordships said), which they humbly sub- mitted to His Royal Highness was considered by them as open to every remark w^hich might occur to His Royal Highness's better judgment. On every occasion, but more especially in the preparation of His Royal Highness's first act of government, it would have been no less their desire than their duty to have profited by all such objections, and to have labored to accom- plish, in the best manner they were able, every command which His Royal Highness might have been pleased to lay upon them. Upon the objects to be obtained there could be no difference of sentiment. These, such as above described, were, they confi- dently believed, not less important in His Royal Highness's view of the subject than in that w^hich they themselves had ventured to express. But they would be wanting in that sincerity and VOL. II. 12 ^ 274 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF l^flii openness by which they could alone hope, however impcrfectlj, to make any return to that gracious confidence with which His Royal Highness had condescended to honor them, if they sup- pressed the expression of their deep concern, in finding that their humble endeavors in His Royal Highness's service had been sub- mitted to the judgment of another person, by whose advice His Royal Highness had been guided in his final decision, on a mat- ter on which they alone had, however unworthily, been honored witli His Royal Highness's commands. It was their most sincere and ardent wish that, in the arduous station which His Royal Highness was about to fill, he might have the benefit of the public advice and responsible services of those men, whoever they might be, by whom His Royal Highness's glory and the interests of the country could best be promoted. It would be with unfeigned distrust of their own means of discharging such duties that they could, in any case, venture to undertake them ; and, in this humble but respectful representation which they had presumed to make of their feelings on this occasion, they were conscious of being actuated not less by their dutiful and grateful attachment to His Royal Highness, than by those principles of constitutional responsibility, the maintenance of which they deemed essential to any hope of a successful administration of the public interests." On receiving this Representation, in which, it must be con- fessed, there was more of high spirit and dignity than of worldly wisdom,* His Royal Highness lost no time in communicating it * To the pure and dignified character of the Noble Whig- associated in this P.emon- Btrance, it is unnecessary for me to say how heartily I bear testimony. The only fault, indeed, of this distinguished person is. that, knowing but one high course of conduct for himself, he impatiently resents any sinking irom that pilch in others. Then, only, in his true station, when placed between the People and the Crown, as one of those fortresses that ornament and defend the frontier of Democracy, he has shown that he can but ill suit the dimensions of his spirit to the narrow avenues of a Court, or, like that Pope whc stooped to look for the keys of St. Peter, accon^smodalehis natural elevation to the pursuit of official power. All the pliancy of liis nature is, indeed, reserved for private life, "where the repose of the valley succeeds to, the grandeur of the mountain, and whfre the lofty statesman gracefully subades into the gentle husband and father, and the frank, social friend. The eloquence of Ix)rd Grey more Uian that of any other peison, brings to mind what RIGHT HOIT. HICHARD BRlNSLEY SHERIDAjST. 275 to Sheridan, who, proud of the irifluence attributed to him by the Noble writers, and now more than ever stimulated to make them feel its weight, employed the whole force of his shrewdness and ridicule* in exposing the stately tone of dictation which, accord- ing to his view, was assumed throughout this Paper, and in picturing to the Prince the state of tutelage he might expect un- der Ministers who began thus early with their lectures. Such suggestions, even if less ably urged, were but too sure of a wil- ling audience in ihe ears to W'hich they were addressed. Shortly after. His Royal Highness paid a visit to Windsor, where the Queen and another Royal Personage completed what had been so skilfully begun ; and the important resolution w^as forthwith taken to retain Mr. Perceval and his colleagues in the Ministry. I shall now give the Statement of the whole transaction, which Mr. Sheridan thought it necessary to address, in his own defence, to Lord Holland, and of which a rough and a fair copy have been found carefully preserved among his papers : — Queen- Street, January 15, 1811. "Dear Holland, " As you have been already apprised by His Royal Highness the Prince that he thought it becoming the frankness of his char- acter, and consistent with the fairness and openness of proceeding due to any of his servants whose conduct appears to have incur- red the disapprobation of Lord Grey and Lord Grenville, to com- municate their representations on the subject to the person so Quinlilian says of the great and noble orator, Messala :—" QuodaTnmvdo prce deferens in dicendo nohilitatem suam.^' * He called rhymes also to his aid, as appears by the following : — *' An Address to the Prince, 1811. " In all humility we crave Our Regent may become our slave, And being so, we trust that Hs 'Will than'^ us for our loyalty. Then, if he'll help us to pufl down His Father's dignity and Crown, We'll make him, in some time to conift, The greatest Prince in Christendom." 276 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE censured, I am confident you will give me credit for the pain 1 must have felt, to find myself an object of suspicion, or likely, in the slightest degree, to become the cause of any temporary mis- understanding between His Royal Highness and those distin- guished characters, whom His Royal Highness appears to destine to those responsible situations, which must in all public matters entitle them to his exclusive confidence. " I shall as briefly as I can state the circumstances of the fact, so distinctly referred to in the following passage of the Noble Lord's Representation : — " ' But they would be wanting in that sincerity and openness by which they can alone hope, however imperfectly, to make any return to that gracious confidence with which Your Royal High- ness has condescended to honor them, if they suppressed the ex- pression of their deep concern in finding that their humble endea^- vors in Your Roval Hicrhness's service have been submitted to the judgment of another person, hy whose advice Your Royal Highness has been guided in your final decision on a matter in which they alone had, however unworthily, been honored with Your Royal Highness's commands.' " I must premise, that from my first intercourse with the Prince during the present distressing emergency, such conversations as he may have honored me with have been communications of re- solutions already formed on his part, and not of matter referred to consultation or submitted to advice. I know that my declin- ing to vote for the further adjournment of the Privy Council's examination of the physicians gave offence to some, and was con- sidered as a difference from the party I was rightly esteemed to belong to. The intentions of the leaders of the party upon that question were in no way distinctly knovm to me ; my secession was entirely my own act, and not only unauthorized, but perhaps unexpected by the Prince. My motives for it I took the liberty of communicating to His Royal Highness by letter,* the next day, and, previously to that, I had not even seen His Royal Highness since the confirmation of His Majesty's malady. * Tliis Letter has been given in page 268. RIGHT HON. KICHARD BRIJSSLEY SHEIIIDAN. 277 " If I differed from those who, equally attached to His Royal ITighness's interest and honor, thought that His Royal Highness should have taken the step which, in my humble opinion, he has since, precisely at the proper period, taken of sending to Lord Grenville and Lord Grey, I may certainly have erred in forming an imperfect judgment on the occasion, but, in doing so, I meant no disrespect to those who had taken a different view^ of the sub- ject. But, wdth all deference, I cannot avoid adding, that expe- rience of the impression made on the public mind by the re- served and retired conduct which the Prince thought proper to adopt, has not shaken my opinion of the wisdom which prompted him to that determination. But here, again, I declare, that I must reject the presumption that any suggestion of mine led to the rule w^hich the Prince had prescribed to himself My know- ledge of it being, as I before said, the comxmunication of a reso- lution formed on the part of His Royal Highness, and not of a proposition awaiting the advice, countenance, or corroboration, of any other person. Having thought it necessary to premise thus much, as I wish to write to you without reserve or concealment of any sort, I shall as briefly as I can relate the facts which at- tended the composing the Answer itself, as far as I was con- cerned. " On Sunday, or on Monday the 7th instant, I mentioned to Lord Moira, or to Adam, that the Address of the two Houses would come very quickly upon the Prince, and that he should be prepared with his Answer, without entertaining the least idea of meddling with the subject myself, having received no autho- rity from His Royal Highness to do so. Either Lord Moira or Adam informed me, before I left Carlton-House, that His Royal Highness had directed Lord Moira to sketch an outline of the Answer proposed, and I left town. On Tuesday evening it occurred to me to try at a sketch also of the intended reply. On Wednesday morning I read it, at Carlton-House, very hastily to Adam, before I saw the Prince. And here I must pause to declare, that I have entirely withdrawn from my mind any doubt, if for a moment I ever entertained any, of the perfect propriety 278 MEMOIKS OF THE LIFE OF THE of Adam's conduct at that hurried interview ; being also long convinced, as well from intercourse with him at Carlton-House as in every transaction I have witnessed, that it is impossible for him to act otherwise than with the most entire sincerity and honor towards all he deals with. I then read the Paper I had put together to the Prince, — the most essential part of it literally consisting of sentiments and expressions, which had fallen from the Prince himself in different conversations ; and I read it to him without having once heard Lord Grenmlle's name even mentioned as in any way connected with the Answer proposed to be sub- mitted to the Prince. On the contrary, indeed, I was under an impression that the framing this Answer was considered as the single act which it would be an unfair and embarrassing task to require the performance of from Lord Grenville. The Prince approved the Paper I read to him, objecting, however, to some additional paragraphs of my own, and altering others. In the course of his observations, he cursorily mentioned that Lord Grenville had undertaken to sketch out his idea of a proper Answer, and that Lord Moira had done the same, — evidently expressing himself, to my apprehension, as not considering the framing of this Answer as a matter of official responsibility any where, but that it was his intention to take the choice and deci- sion respecting it on himself If, however, I had known, before I entered the Prince's apartment, that Lord Grenville and Lord Grey had in any way undertaken to frame the Ansv/er, and had thought themselves authorized to do so, I protest the Prince would never even have heard of the draft which I had prepared, though containing, as I before said, the Prince's own ideas. " His Royal Highness having laid his commands on Adam and me to dine with him alone on the next day, Thursday, I then, for the first time, learnt that Lord Grey and Lord Grenville had ti'ansmitted, through Adam, a formal draft of an Answer to be submitted to the Prince. " Under these circumstances I thought it became me humbly to request the Prince not to refer to me, in any respect, the Paper of the Noble Lords, oi to insist even on my hearing its KIGHT HON. KICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 279 contents ; but that I might be permitted to put the draft he had received from me into the fire. The Prince, however, who had read the Noble Lords' Paper, declining to hear of this, proceeded to state, how strongly he objected to almost every part of it. The draft delivered by Adam he took a copy of himself, as Mr. Adam read it, affixing shortly, but w^armly, his comments to each paragi^aph. Finding His Royal Highness's objections to the whole radical and insuperable, and seeing no means myself by which the Noble Lords could change their .draft, so as to meet the Prince's ideas, I ventured to propose, as the only expedient of which the time allow^ed, that both the Papers should be laid aside, and that a very short Answer, indeed, keeping clear of all topics liable to disagreement, should be immediately sketched out and be submitted that night to the judgment of Lord Grey and Lord Grenville. The lateness of the hour prevented any but very hasty discussion, and Adam and myself proceeded, by His Royal Highness's orders, to your house to relate what had passed to Lord Grey. I do not mean to disguise, however, that when I found myself bound to give my opinion, I did fully assent to the force and justice of the Prince's objections, and made other ob- servations of my own, which I thought it my duty to do, con- ceiving, as I freely said, that the Paper could not have been drawn up but under the pressure of embarrassing difficulties, and, as I conceived also, in considerable haste. " Before we left Carlton-House, it was agreed between Adam and myself that we were not so strictly enjoined by the Prince, as to make it necessary for us to communicate to the Noble Lords the marginal comments of the Prince, and we determined to witliliold the^. But at the meeting with Lord Grey, at your house, he appeared to me, erroneously perhaps, to decline con- sidering the objections as coming from the Prince, but as origi- nating in my suggestions. L^pon this, I certainly called on Adam to produce the Prince's copy, with his notes, in His Royal High- ness's own hand-writinfy. '^ Afterwards, finding myself considerabl}^ hurt at an expres- sion of Lord Grey's, w^hich could only be pointed at me, and 280 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE which expressed his opinion that the whole of the Paper, which he assumed me to be responsible for, was ' drawn up in an invidious spirit,' I certainly did, with more warmth than was, perhaps, discreet, comme. .t on the Paper proposed to be substi- tuted ; and there ended, with no good effect, our interview. " Adam and I saw the Prince again that night, when His Royal Highness was graciously pleased to meet our joint and earnest request, by striking out from the draft of the Answer, to which he still resolved to adhere, every passage which we conceived to be most liable to objection on the part of Lord Grey and Lord Grenville. " On the next morning, Friday, — a short time before he was to receive the Address, — when Adam returned from the Noble Lords, with their expressed disclaimer of the preferred Answer, altered as it was. His Royal Highness still persevered to eradi- cate • every remaining w^ord which he thought might yet appear exceptionable to them, and made further alterations, although the fair copy of the paper had been made out. " Thus the Answer, nearly reduced to the expression of the Prince's own suggestions, and without an opportunity of farther meeting the wishes of the Noble Lords, was delivered bv His Royal Highness, and presented by the Deputation of the two Houses. " I am ashamed to have been thus prolix and circumstantial, upon a matter which may appear to have admitted of much shorter explanation ; but when misconception has produced dis- trust among those, I hope, not willingly disposed to differ, and, who can have, I equally trust, but one common object m view in their different stations, I know no better way than by minute- ness and accuracy of detail to remove whatever may have ap- peared doubtful in conduct, while unexplained, or inconsistent in principle not clearly re-asserted. " x\nd now, my dear Lord, I have only shortly to express my own personal mortification, I will use no other word, that I should have been considered by any persons however high in rank, or iiistly entitled to high political pretensions, as one so little RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 281 ' attached to His Royal Highness,' or so ignorant of the value ' of the Constitution of his country,' as to be held out to Him, whose fairly-earned esteem I regard as the first honor and the sole reward of my political life, in the character of an interested contriver of a double government, and, in some measure, as an apostate from all my former principles, — which have taught me, as well as the Noble Lords, that ' the maintenance of conslilu- tional responsibility in the ministers of the Crown is essential to any hope of success in the administration of the public interest.' "At the same time, I am most ready to admit that it could not be their intention so to characterize me ; but it is the direct inference which others must gather from the first paragraph I have quoted from their Representation, and an inference which, 1 under- stand, has already been raised in public opinion. A departure, my dear Lord, on my part, from upholding tjie principle declared by the Noble Lords, much more a presumptuous and certainly in- effectual attempt to inculcate a contrary doctrine on the mind of the Prince of Wales, would, I am confident, lose me every particle of his flxvor and confidence at once and for ever. But I am yet to learn w^hat part of my past public life, — and I challenge ob- servation on every part of my present proceedings, — has war- ranted the adoption of any such suspicion of me, or the expression of any such imputation against me. But I will dwell no longer on this point, as it relates only to m.y own feelings and character ; which, however, I am the more bound to consider, as others, in my humble judgment, have so hastily disregarded both. At the same time, I do sincerely declare, that no personal disappoint- ment in my own mind interferes with the respect and esteem I entertain for Lord Grenville, or in addition to those sentiments, the friendly regard I owe to Lord Grey. To Lord Grenville I have the honor to be but very little personally known. From Lord Grey, intimately acquainted as he was with every circum- stance of my conduct and principles in the years 1788-9, I con- fess I should have expected a very tardy and reluctant interpre- tation of any circumstance to my disadvantage. What the nature of my endeavors were at that time, I have the written 282 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE testimonies of Mr. Fox and the Duke of Portland. To jou I know those testimonies are not necessary, and perhaps it has been my recollection of what passed in those times that may have led me too securely to conceive myself above the reach even of a suspicion that I could adopt different principles now. Such as they were they remain untouched and unaltered. I conclude with sincerely declaring, that to see the Prince meeting the re- ward which his own honorable nature, his kind and generous disposition, and his genuine devotion to the true objects of our free Constitution so well entitle him to, by being surrounded and supported by an Administration affectionate to his person, and ambitious of gaining and meriting his entire esteem, (yet tena- cious, above all things, of the constitutional principle, that exclu- sive confidence must attach to the responsibility of those whom he selects to be his public servants,) I would with heartfelt satis- faction rather be a looker on of such a Governm^ent, giving it such humble support as might be in my powder, than be the possessor of any possible situation either of profit or ambition; to be obtained by any indirectness, or by the slightest departure from the principles I have always professed, and which I have now felt myself in a manner called upon to re-assert. " I have only to add, that my respect for the Prince, and my sense of the frankness he has shown towards me on this occasion, decide me, with all duty, to submit this letter to his perusal, be- fore I place it in your hands; meaning it undoubtedly to be by . you show^n to those to whom your judgment may deem it of any consequence to communicate it. " 1 have the honor to be, &c. " To Lord Holland, (Signed) '' R. B. Sheridan. "Read and approved by the Prince, January 20, 1811. "R.B.S." Though this Statement, it must be recollected, exhibits but one side of the question, and is silent as to the part that Sheridan took after the delivery of the Remonstrance of the two noble Jjords, yet, combined with preceding events and with the insight EIGHT HOX EICHAED BK1^'SLEY SHER1DA:N'. 283 into motives which they afford, it may sufficiently enable the reader to form his own judgment, with respect to the conduct of the ditferent persons concerned in the transaction. With the better and more ostensible motives of Sheridan, there was, no doubt, some mixture of, what the Platonists call, " the material alluvion" of our nature. His political repugnance to the Co- alesced Leaders would have been less strong but for the personal feelirigs that mingled with it ; and his anxiety that the Prince should not be dictated to by othei-s was at least equalled by his vanity in showhig that he could govern him himself. But, whatever were the precise views that impelled him to this trial of strength, the Wctory which he gained in it was far more extensive than he himself had either foreseen or wished. He had meant the party to fed his power, — not to sink under it. Though privately alienated from them, on personal as well as political grounds, he knew that, -publicly he was too much identified w^ith their ranks, ever to serve, with credit or consistency, in any other. He had, therefore, in the ardor of undermining, carried the ground from beneath his own feet. In helping to disband his party, he had cashiered himself; and there remained to him now, for the residue of his days, but that frailest of all sublunary treasures, a Prince's friendship. With this conviction, (which, m spite of all the sanguineness of his disposition, could hardly have failed to force itself on his mind,) it was not, we should think, with very self-gratulatory feelings that he undertook the task, a few weeks after, of indit- ing, for the Eegent, that memorable Letter to Mr. Perceval, which sealed the fate at once both of his party and himself, and whatever false signs of re-animation may afterwards have ap peared, severed the last life-lock by which the " stinigglmg spirit"* of this friendship between -Royalty and Whiggism still held : — '' d/^xtra cri7iem secatj omnis et una Dilapsus calor, atque in ventos vita recessitJ'^ With respect to the chief Personage connected with thestj * JjuclQ/ns anitna, ^ 284 MEMOIES OF THE LIFE OF THE transactions, it is a proof of the tendency of knowledge, to pre- duce a spirit of tolerance, that they who, judging merely from the surface of events, have been most forward in reprobating his separation from the Whigs, as a rupture of political ties and an abandonment of private friendships, must, on becoming more thoroughly acquainted with all the circumstances that led to this crisis, learn to soften down considerably their angry feelings ; and to see, indeed, in the whole history of the connection, — from its first formation, in the hey-day of youth and party, to its faint survival after the death of Mr. Fox, — but a natural and destined gradation towards the result at which it at last arrived, after as much fluctuation of political principle, on one side, as there was of indifference, perhaps, to all political principle on the other. Among the arrangements that had been made, in contempla- tion of a new Ministry, at this time, it was intended that Lord Moira should go, as Lord Lieutenant, to Ireland, and that Mr. Sheridan should accompany him, as Chief Secretary. RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 285 CHAPTER XL AFFAIRS OF THE NEW THEATRE. — MR. WHITBREAD. — NEGCTIATIONS WITH LORD GREY AND LORD GREN- VILLE. — CONDUCT OF MR. SHERIDAN RELATIVE TO THE HOUSEHOLD. — HIS LAST WORDS IN PARLIAMENT. — FAILURE AT STAFFORD. — CORRESPONDENCE WITH MR. WHITBREAD. — LORD BYRON. — DISTRESSES OF SHERIDAN. — ILLNESS. — DEATH AND FUNERAL. — GENERAL RE- MARKS. It was not till the close of this year that the Reports of the Coramittee appointed under the Act for rebuilding the Theatre of Drury-Lane, were laid before the public. By these it appeared that Sheridan was to receive, for his moiety of the property, 24,000/., out of which sum the claims of the Linley family and others were to be satisfied ; — that a further sum of 4000/. was to be paid to him for the property of the Fruit Offices and Rever- sion of Boxes and Shares; — and that his son, Mr. Thomas Sheridan, was to receive, for his quarter of the Patent Property, 12,000/. The gratitude that Sheridan felt to Mr. Whitbread at first, for the kindness with which he undertook this most arduous task, did not long remain unembittered when they entered into prac- tical details. It would be difficult indeed to find two persons less likely to agree in a transaction of this nature, — the one, in affairs of business, approaching almost as near to the extreme of rigor as the other to that of laxity. While Sheridan, too, — like those painters, who endeavor to disguise their ignorance of anat- omy by an indistinct find furzy outline, — had an imposing method of generalizing his accounts and statements, which, to most eyes, 286 MEMOIRS OF I'HE LIFE OF TEfS concealed the negligence and fallacy of the details, Mr. Whit bread, on the contrary, with an unrelenting accuracy, laid open the minutiae of every transaction, and made evasion as impossible to others, as it was alien and inconceivable to himself He was, perhaps, the only person, whom Sheridan had ever found proof against his powers of persuasion, — and this rigidity naturally mortified his pride full as much as it thwarted and disconcerted his views. Among the conditions to which he agreed, in order to facilitate the arrangements of the Committee, the most painful to him was that which stipulated that he, himself, should " have no concern or connection, of any kind whatever, with the new undertaking." This concession, however, he, at first, regarded as a mere matter of form — feeling confident that; even without any effort of his own, the necessity under which the new Committee would find themselves of recurring to his advice and assistance, would, ere long, reinstate him in all his former influence. But in this hope he was. disappointed — his exclusion from all concern in the new Theatre, (which, it is said, was made a s'lne-qua-non by all who embarked in it,) was inexorably enforced by Whitbread; and the following letter addressed by him to the latter will show the state of their respective feelings on this point : — "My dear Whitbread, " I am not going to write you a controversial or even an argu- mentative letter, but simply to put down the heads of a few matters which I wish shortly to converse with you upon, in the most amicable and temperate manner, deprecating the im patience which may sometimes have mixed in our discussions and not contending who has been the aggressor. " The main point you seem to have had so much at heart you have carried, so there is an end of that ; and I shall as fairly and cordially endeavor to advise and assist Mr. Benjamin Wyatt in the improving and perfecting his plan as if it had been my own preferable selection, assuming, as I must do, that there cannot exist an individual in England so presumptuous or so void of felGHT UON. HtCilAIiD BRINSLEY SSEKIDAN. 28? common sense as not sincerely to solicit the aid of my practical experience on this occasion, even were I not, in justice to the Subscribers, bound spontaneously to offer it. '' But it would be unmanly dissimulation in me to retain the sentiments I do with respect to your doctrine on this subject, and not express what I so strongly feel. That doctrine was, to my utter astonishment, to say no more, first promulgated to me in a letter from you, written in town, in the following terms. Speaking of building and plans, you say to me, ' You are in no way ansivercihle if a had Theatre is built : it is not you who built it ; and if we come to (he strict right of the thing ^ you have no BUSINESS TO INTERFERE ;' aiid further on you say, ' Will you hut STAND ALOOF, and every thing loill go smooth^ and a good Theatre shall be built ;' and in conversation you put, as a simi- lar case, that, ' if a man sold another a piece of land, it was no- thing to the seller whether the purchaser huili himself a good or a had house upon it.'' Now I declare before God I never felt more amazement than that a man of your powerful intellect, just view of all subjects, and knowledge of the world, should hold such language or resort to such arguments ; and I must be convinced, that, although in an impatient moment this opinion may have fallen, from you, upon the least reflection or the slightest attention to the reason of the case, vou would, ' albeit unused to the re- tracting mood,' confess the erroneous view you had taken of the subject. Otherwise, I must think, and with the deepest regret would it be, that although you originally engaged in this business' from motives of the purest and kindest regard for me and my family, your ardor and zealous eagerness to accomplish the diffi- cult task you had undertaken have led you, in this instance, to overlook what is due to my feelings, to my honor, and my just interests. For, supposing I were to ' stand aloof ^^ totally uncon- cerned, provided I were paid for my share, whether the new Theatre were excellent or execrable, and that the result should be that the Subscribers, instead of profit, could not, through the misconstruction of tne house, obtain one per cent, for their mo- nev, do vou seriouslv believe vou could find a sinsle man, wo- 238 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE man, or child, in the kingdom, out of the Committee, who would believe that I was wholly guiltless of the failure, having been so stultified and proscribed by the Committee, (a Committee of my own nomination.) as to have been compelled to admit, as the condition of my being paid for my share, that ' it was nothing to me whether the Theatre was good or bad V or, on the contrary can it be denied that the reproaches of disappointment, through the great body o£ the Subscribers, would be directed against me and me alone ? ''So much as to character: — now as to my feelings on the subject ; — I must say that in friendship, at least, if not in ' strict right ^^ they ought to be consulted, even though the Committee could either prove that I had not to apprehend any share in the discredit and discontent which might follow the ill success of their plan, or that 1 was entitled to brave whatever malice or ignorance might direct against me. Next, and lastly, as to my just inter- est in the property I am to part with, a consideration to which, however careless I might be were I alone concerned, I am bound to attend in justice to my own private creditors, observe how the matter stands : — I agree to waive my own ' strict right'' to be paid before the funds can be applied to the building, and this in the confidence and on the continued understanding, that my ad- vice should be so far respected, that, even should the subscrip- tion not fill, I should at least see a Theatre capable of being charged with and ultimately of dischai^ging what should remain justly due to the proprietors. To illustrate this I refer to the size of the pit, the number of private boxes, and the annexation of a tavern; but in what a situation would the doctrine of your Committee leave me and my son ? ' It is nothing to us how the Tlieatre is built, or whether it prospers or not.' These are two circumstances we have nothing to do with; only, unfortunately, upon them may depend our best chance of receiving any pay- ment for the property we part with. It is nothing to us how the ship is refitted or manned, only we must leave all we are worth on board her, and abide the chance of her success. Now I am confident your justice will see, that iu order that the Com lilGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 289 tnittee should, in ^strict riffht^' become entitled to deal ihu6 With us, and bid us stand aloof ^ they should buy us out, and make good the payment. But the reverse of this has been my own proposal, and I neither repent nor wish to make any orange in it. '• I have totally departed from my intention, when I first be- gar this letter, for which I ought to apologize to you ; but it may save much future talk : other less important matters will do in conversation. You will allow that I have placed in you the most implicit confidence — have the reasonable trust in mie that, in any communication I may have with B. Wyatt, my object v/ill not be to obstruct^ as you have hastily expressed it, but bond fide to assist him to render his Theatre as perfect as possible, as well with a view to the public accommodation as to profit to the Subscribers ; neither of which can be obtained without establishing a repu- tation for him which nmst be the basis of his future fortune. '•'- And now, after all this statement, you will perhaps be sur- prised to find how little I require ; — simply some Resolution of the Committee to the effect of that I enclose. " I conclude with heartily thanking you for the declaration you made respecting me, and reported to me by Peter Moore, at the close of the last meeting of the Gommittee. I am convinced of your sincerity ; but as I have before described the character of the gratitude 1 feel tow\"irds you in a letter written likewise in this house, I have only to say, that every sentiment in that letter remains unabated and unalterable. '' Ever, my dear WhI thread, "Yours, faithfully. " P. S. The discussion we had yesterday respecting some invesri gation of the j'MSt^ which I deem so essential to my character and to my peace of mind, and your present concurrence with me oii that subject, has relieved my mind from great anxiety, though i cannot but still think the better opportunity has been passed by. One word more, and I release you. Tom informed me that you had hinted to him that any demands, not practicable to l)e settled by the Committee, m.ust fail on tne proprietors. M;y VOL. TI. 38 290 MEMoIkS of the life of TB\t resolution is to take all such on myself, and to leave Tom's share untouched." Another concession, which Sheridan himself had volunteered, namely, the postponement of his right of being paid the amount of his claim, till after the Theatre should be built, was also a subject of much acrimonious discussion between the two friends, — Sheridan applying to this condition that sort of lax interpre!;- ation, which would have left him. the credit of the sacrifice with- out its inconvenience, and Whitbread, with a firmness of grasp, to which, unluckily, the other had been unaccustomed in business^ holding him to the strict letter of his voluntary agreement wdth the Subscribers. Never, indeed, was there a more melancholy example than Sheridan exhibited, at this moment, of the lastj hard struggle of pride and delicacy against the most deadly foe of both, pecuniary involvement, — which thus gathers round its victims, fold after fold, till they are at length crushed in its inex- tricable clasp. The mere likelihood of a sum of money being placed at his disposal w^as sufficient — like the " bright day that brings forth the adder " — to call into life the activity of all his duns ; and how liberally he made the fund available among them, appears from the following letter of Whitbread, addressed, not to Sheridan himself, but, apparently, (for the direction is wanting,) to some man of business connected with him : — " My dear Sir, " I had determined not to give any written answer to the note you put into my hands yesterday morning ; but a further peru- sal of it leads me to think it better to make a statement in writing, why I, for one, cannot comply with the request it con- tains, and to repel the impression which appears to have existed in Mr. Sheridan's mind at the time that note was written. He insinuates that to some postponement of his uiterests, by the Committee, is owing the distressed situation in which he is ilq- fortunately placed. HIGHT HON. KICHAKD BPwlNSLEY SHERIDAN. 291 " Whatever postponement of the interests of the Proprietors may ultimately be resorted to, as matter of indispensable neces- sity from the state of the Subscription Fund, will originate in the written suggestion of Mr. Sheridan himself; and, in certain cir- cumstances, unless such latitude were allowed on his part, the execution of the x\.ct could not have been attempted. " At present there is no postponement of his interests, — but there is an utter impossibility of touching the Subscription Fund at all, except for very trifling specified articles, until a supple- mentary Act of Parliament shall have been obtained. " By the present Act, even if the Subscription were full, and no impediments existed to the use of the nioney, the Act itself, and the incidental expenses of plans, surveys, &c., are first to be paid for, — then the portion of Killegrew's Patent, — then the claimants, — and then the Proprietors. Now the Act is not paid for : White and Martindale are not paid ; and not one single claimant is paid, nor can any one of them he paid, until we have fresh powers and additional subscriptions. " How then can Mr. Sheridan attribute to any postponement of his interests, actually made by the Committee, the present condition of his affairs ? and why are we driven to these obser- vations and explanations 1 " We cannot but all deeply lament his distress, but the palli- ation he proposes it is not in our power to give. " We cannot guarantee Mr. Hammersley upon the fund coming eventually to Mr. Sheridan. He alludes to the claims he has already created upon that fund. He must, besides, recollect the list of names he sent to me some time ago, of per- sons to whom he felt himself in honor bound to appropriate to each his share of that fund, in common with others for whose names he left a blank, and who, he says in the same letter, have written engao:ements from him. Besides, he has communicated both to Mr. Taylor and to Mr. Shaw, through me, offers to im- pound the whole of the sum to answer the issue of the unsettled demands made upon him by those gentlem.en respectively. " How then can we guarantee Mr. Hammersley in the pay 292 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF l^HE ment of any sum out of this fund, so circumstanced 1 Mr. Hammersley's possible profits are prospective, and the prospect remote. I kiiow the positive losses he sustains, and the sacrifices he is obliged to make to procure the chance of the compromise he is willing to accept. " Add to all this, that we are still struggling with difficulties which we may or may not overcome ; that those difficulties are greatly increased by the persons whose interest and duty should equally lead them to give us every facility and assistance in the labors we have disinterestedly undertaken, and are determined fliithfuUy to discharge. If we fail at last, from whatever cause, the whole vanishes. " You know, my dear Sir, that I grieve for the sad state of Mr. Sheridan's affairs. I would contribute my mite to their temporary relief, if it would be acceptable ; but as one of the Committee, intrusted with a public fund, I can do nothing. I cannot be a party to any claim upon Mr. Hammersley ; and I utterly deny that, individually, or as part of the Committee, any step taken by me, or with my concurrence, has pressed upon the circumstances of Mr. Sheridan. " I am, " My dear Sir, " Faithfully yours, " Southill, Dec. 19, 1811. •' Samuel Whitbread." A dissolution of Parliament being expected to take place, Mr. Sheridan again turned his eyes to Stafford ; and, in spite of the estrangement to wdiich his infidelities at Westminster had given rise, saw enough, he th:>ught, of the " veteris vestigia flammce''' to encourage him to hope for a renewal of the connection. The following letter to Sir Oswald Moseley explains his views and expectations on the subject : — " Dear Sir Oswald, Cavendish- Square^ Nov, 29, 1811. " Being apprised that you have decided to decline offering yourself a candidate for Staffo/'d, when a future election may HIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 293 arrive, — a place where you are highly esteemed, and where 3 very huinblc service m my power, as I have before declared to you, should have been at your command, — I have determined to ac- cept the very cordial invitations I have received from old friends in that quarter, and, (though entirely secure of my seat at Ilches- ter, and, mdeed, even of the second seat for my son, through the liberality of Sir W. Manners), to return to the old goal from whence I started thirty-one years since ! You will easily see that arrangements at Ilchester may be made towards assisting me, in point of expense, to meet any opposition^ and, in that re- spect^ nothing will be wanting. It will, I confess, be very grati- fying to me to be again elected by the sons of those who chose me in the year eighty, said adhered to me so stoutly and so long. 1 think I was returned for Stafford seven, if not eight, times, in- cluding two most tough and expensive contests ; and, in taking a temporary leave of them I am sure my credit must stand well, for not a shilling did I leave unpaid. I have written to the Jerninghams, who, in the handsomest m.anner, have ever given me their warmest support; and, as no political object interests my mind so much as the Catholic cause, I have no doubt that independent of their personal friendship, I shall receive a continu- ation of their honorable support. 1 feel it to be no presum^ption to add, that other respectable interests in the neighborhood will be with me. " 1 need scarcely add my sanguine hope, that whatever interest rests with you, (which ought to be much), will also be in my favor. " I have the honor to be, " With great esteem and regard, ^' Yours most sincerely, " R. B. Sheridan." " I mean to be in Stafford, from Lord G. Levison's, in about a fortnight." Among a number of notes addressed to his former constituents at this time, (which. I find written in his neatest hand, as if in- tendei to be sent), is this cirious one : — 294 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE " Dear King John, Cavendish- Square, Sunday night. " I shall be in Stafford in the course of next week, and if Your Majesty does not renew our old alliance I shall never again have faith in any potentate on earth. '* Yours very sincerely, " Mr, John K. " R. B. Sheridan." The two attempts that were made in the course of the ye^ir 1812 — the one, on the cessation of the Regency Restrictions, and the other after the assassination of Mr. Perceval, — to bring the Whigs into official relations with the Court, were, it is evi- dent, but little inspired on either side, with the feelings likely to lead to such -a result. It requires but a perusal of the published correspondence in both cases to convince us that, at the bottom of all these evolutions of negotiation, there was anything but a sincere wish that the object to which they related should be ac- complished. The Marechal Bassompiere was not more afraid of succeeding in his warfare, when he said, " Je crois que nous se- rons assez foil s pour prendre la Rochelle^^' than was one of the parties, at least, in these negotiations, of any favorable turn that might inflict success upon its overtures. Even where the Court, as in the contested point of the Household, professed its readi- ness to accede to the surrender so injudiciously demanded of it, those who acted as its discretionary organs knew too well the real wishes in that quarter, and had been too long and faithfully zealous in their devotion to those wishes to leave any fear that advantage would be taken of the concession. But, however high and chivalrous was the feeling with which Lord Moira, on this occasion, threw himself into the breach for his Royal Master, the service of Sheridan, though flowing partly from the same zeal, was not, I grieve to say, of the same clear and honorable char- acter. Lord Yarmouth, it is well known, stated in the House of vbmmons that he had communicated to Mr. Sheridan the inten- tion of the Household to resign, with the view of having that in lention conveyed to Lord Gre/ and Lord Grenville, and thus re- BIGHT HO:Sr. RICHARD BRIXSLEY SHERIDAX. 295 moving the sole ground upon which these Noble Lords objected to the acceptance of office. Not only, however, did Sheridan endeavor to dissuade the Noble Vice-Chamberlain from resigning, but wdth an unfairness of dealing which admits, I own, of no vidica^ tion, he withheld from the two leaders of Opposition the intelli- gence thus meant to be conveyed to them ; and, when questioned by Mr. Tierney as to the rumored intentions of the Household to resign, offered to bet five hundred guineas that there was no such step in contemplation. In this conduct, which he made but a feeble attempt to ex- plain, and which I consider as the only indefensible part of his whole public life, he was, in some degree, no doubt, influenced by personal feelings against the two Noble Lords, whom his want of fairness on the occasion was so well calculated to thwart and embarrass. But the main motive of the whole proceeding is to be found in his devoted deference to what he knew to be the wishes and feelings of that Personage, who had become now, more than ever, the mainspring of all his movements, — whose spell over him, in this instance, was too strong for even his sense of character ; and to whom he might well have applied the words of one of his own beautiful songs — '' Friends, fortune, fame itself I'd lose, To gain one smile from thee T' So fatal, too often, are Royal friendships, w^hose attraction, like the loadstone-rock in Eastern fable, that drew the nails out of the luckless ship that came near it, steals gradually away the strength by which character is held together, till, at last, it loosens at all points, and falls to pieces, a wreck ! In proof of the fettering influence under which he acted on this occasion, we find him in one of his evasive attempts at vindica. tion, suppressing, from delicacy to his Royal Master, a circum- stance which, if mentioned, would have redounded considerably to his own credit. After mentioning that the Regent had "asked his opinion with respect to the negotiations that were going on," he adds, " I gave him my opinion, and I most de 296 luK.MOIxlS OF THE LIFE OF THE voutly wish that that opmion could he published to the world, that it might serve to shame those who now belie me." The following is the fact to which these expressions allude. When the Prince-Eegent, on the death of Mr. Perce val, entrust- ed to Lord Wellesley the task cf forming an Admhnstration. it appears that His Royal Highness had signified either his inten- tion or wish to exclude a certain Noble Earl from the arrange- ments to be made under that commission. On learning this, Sheridan not only expressed strongly his opinion against such a step, but having, afterwards, reason to fear that the freedom with which he spoke on the subject had been displeasing to the Regent, he addressed a letter to that Illustrious Person, (a copy of which I have in my possession,) in which, after praising the " wisdom and magnanimity*' displayed by his His Royal High ness, in confiding to Lord Wellesley the powers that had just been entrusted to him, he repeated his opinion that any " pro- scription" of the Noble Earl in question, vv^ould be " a proceed- ing equally derogatory to the estimation of His Royal Highness's personal dignity and the security of his political power;" — add- ing, that the advice, which he took the liberty of giving against such a step, did not proceed ^' from any peculiar partiality to the Noble Earl or to many of those with whom he was allied ; but was founded on what he considered to be best for His Royal Highness's honor and interest, and for the general interests of the country." The letter (in alluding to the displeasure which he feared he had incurred by venturing this opinion) concludes thus : — " Junius said in a public letter of his, addressed to Your Royal Father, ' the fate that made you a King forbad your having a friend.'. I deny his proposition as a general maxim — I am con- fident that Your Royal Highness possesses qualities to win and secure to you the attachment and devotion of private friendship, in spite of your being a Sovereign. At least I feel that I am entitled to make this declaration as far as relates to myself — and I do it under the assured convi ^>tion that ■ ou will never re RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRIKSLEY SHERIDAN. 297 quiie fiom me any proof of that attachment and devotion incon sistent with the clear and honorable independence of mind and conduct, which 3onstitute my sole value as a public man, and which have hi'herto been my best recommendation to your gracious favor, confidence, and protection." It is to be regretted that while by this wise advice he helped to save His Royal Master from the invidious appearance of acting upon a principle of exclusion, he should, by his private manage- ment cifterwards, have but too well contrived to secure to him all the advantage of that principle in reality. The political career of Sheridan was now drawing fast to a close. He spoke but upon two or three other occasions during the Ses- sion ; and among the last sentences uttered by him in the House were the following; — which, as caL alated to leave a sweeter flavor oji the memory, at parting, than those questionable trans- actions that have just been related, I have great pleasure in citing : — '• My objection to the present Ministry, is that they are avowedly array- ed and embodied against a principle, — that of concesssion to the Catholics of Ireland,— which I think, and must always think, essential to the safety of this empire. I will never give my vote to any Administration that op- poses the question of Catholic Emancipation. I will not consent to receive a furlough upon that particular question, even though a Ministry were car- rying every other that I wished. In tine, I think the situation of Ireland a pararuount consideration. If they were to be the last words I should ever utter in this House, I should say, ' Be just to Ireland, as you value your own honor, — be just to Ireland, as you value your own peace.' '' His '.^ery last words in Parliament, on his own motion relative to the Overtures of Peace from France, were as follow: — " Yet after the general subjugation and ruin of Europe, should there ever exist an independent historian to record the awful events that pro- duced this universal calamity, let that historian have to say,—' Great Bri- tain fell, and with her fell all the best securities for the charities of human life, for the power and honor, the fame, the glory, and the liberties, not only of herself, but of the whole civilized world.' ' VOL. II. 13" 298 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE In the month of September following, Parliament was dis- solved ; and, presuming upon the encouragement which he had received from some of his Stafford friends, he again tried his chance of election for that horouorh, but without success. This failure he, himself, imputed, as v/ill be seen by the following let- ter, to the refusal of Mr. Whitbread to advance him 2000/. out of the sum due to him by the Committee for his share of the property : — "Dear Whitbread, Cook^s Hotel, Nov. 1, 1812. " I was misled to expect you in town the beginning of last week, but being positively assured that you will arrive to-mor- row, I have declined accompanying Hester into Hampshire as I intended, and she has gone to-day without me ; but I must leave town to join her as soon as I can. We must have some serious but yet, I hope, friendly conversation respecting my unsettled claims on the Drury-Lane Theatre Corporation. A concluding paragraph, in one of your last letters to Burgess, which he thought himself justified in showing me, leads me to believe that it is not your object to distress or destroy me. On the subject of your refusing to advance to me the 2000Z. I applied for to take with me to Staflbrd, out of the large sum confessedly due to me, (unless I signed some paper containing I know not what, and which you presented to my breast like a cocked pistol on the last day I saw you,) I will not dwell. This, and this alone, lost me my election. You deceive yourself if you give credit to any other causes, which the pride of my friends chose tv. attribute our failure to, rather than confess our poverty. I do not mean now to expostulate with you, much less to reproach you, but sure I am that when you contemplate the positive injustice of refusing me the accommodation I required, and the irreparable injury that refusal has cast on me, overturning, probably, all the honor and independence of what remain3 of my political life, you will deeply reproach yourself "I shall make an application to the Committee^ when I hear you have appointed one, for the assistance which most pressing RIGHT H0^\ RICHAED BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 299 circumstances now compel me to call for ; and all I desire is, through a sincere wish that our friendship may not be interrupt- ed, that the answer to that application may proceed from a bona fide Committee^ with their signatures, testifying their decision. " I am, yet, " Yours very sincerely, « & Whithread, Esq, " R. B. Sheridan." Notwithstanding the angry feeling which is expressed in this letter, and which the state of poor Sheridan's mind, goaded as he was now by distress and disappointment, may well excuse, it will be seen by the following letter from Whitbread, written on the very eve of the elections in September, that there was no want of inclination, on the part of this honorable and excellent man, to afford assistance to his friend, — but that the duties of the perplex- ing trust which he had undertaken rendered such irregular ad- vances as Sheridan required impossible : — " My dear Sheridan, " We will not enter into details, although you are quite mis- taken in them. You know how happy I shall be to propose to the Committee to agree to anything practicable ; and you may make all practicable, if you will have resolution to look at the state of the account between you and the Committee, and agree to the mode of its liquidation. "You will recollect the 5000Z. pledged to Peter Moore to an- swer demands ; the certificates given to Giblet, Ker, Ironmonger, Cross, and Ilirdle, five each at your request ; the engagements given to Ellis and myself, and the arrears to the Linley family. All this taken into consideration will leave a large balance still payable to you. Still there are upon that balance the claims •ipon you by Shaw, Taylor, and Grubb, for all of which you have otTered to leave the whole of your compensation in my hands, to abide the issue of arbitration. " This may be managed by your agreeing to take a consider- able portion of your balance in bonds, leaving those bonds in trus* to answer the events. r» 00 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE " I shall be in town on Monday to the Committee, and will be prepared with a sketch of the state of your account with tlie Committee, and with the mode in which I think it would be pru- dent for you and them to adjust it ; which if you will agree to, and direct the conyeyance to be made forthwith, I will undertake to propose the advance of money you wish. But without a clear arrangement, as a justification, nothing can be done. '- 1 shall be in Doyer-Street at nine o'clock, and be there and in Drury-Lane all day. The Queen comes, but the day is not fixed. The election will occupy me after Monday. After that is oyer, I hope we shall see you. " Yours yery truly, " Southill, Sept, 25, 1812. " S. Whitbread." The feeling entertained by Sheridan towards the Committee had already been strongly manifested this year by the manner in which Mrs. Sheridan receiyed the Resolution passed by them, offering her the use of a box in the new Theatre. The notes of Whitbread to Mrs. Sheridan on this subject, prove how anxious he was to conciliate the wounded feelings of his friend : — " My dear Esther, " I have delayed sending the enclosed Resolution of the Drury- Lane Committee to you, because I had hoped to have found a moment to have called upon you, and to have delivered it into your hands. But I see no chance of that, and therefore literally obey my instructions in writin^x to you. " I had great pleasure in proposing the Resolution, which was cordially and unanimously adopted. I had it always in contem- plation, — but to have proposed it earlier would have been im- proper. I hope you will derive much amusement from your visits to the Theatre, and that you and all of your name will ul- timately be pleased with what has been done. I have just had a most satisfactory letter from Tom Sheridan. " I am, " My dear Esther, " Aff'ectionately yours, " Dover-Strepl, July 4, 1812, "Samuel Whitbread.'' ftlGHT HO NT. RICHARD BRTN^SLEY SHERIDAX. 301 " My dear Esther, " It has been a great mortification and disappointment to me, to have met the Committee twice, since the offer of the use of a box at the new Theatre was made to you, and that I have not had to report the slightest acknowledgment from you in return. " The Committee meet again to-morrow, and after that there will be no meeting for some time. If I shal be compelled to re- turn the same blank answer I have hitherto done, the inference drawn will naturally be, that what was designed by himself, who moved it, and by those w^ho voted it, as a gratifying mark of at- tention to Sheridan through you, (as the most gratifying mode of conveying it.) has, for some unaccountable reason, been mistaken and is declined. " But I shall be glad to know before to-morrow, what is youi determination on the subject. " I am, dear Esther, " Affectionately yours, ''Dover- Street, July 12, 1812. " S. Whitbread." The failure of Sheridan at Stafford completed his ruin. He was now excluded both from the Theatre and from Parliament : — the two anchors by which he held in life were gone, and he was left a lonely and helpless wreck upon the waters. The Prince Regent offered to bring him into Parliament ; but the thought of returning to that scene of his triumphs and his freedom, with the Royal owner's mark, as it were, upon him, was more than he could bear — and he declined the offer. Indeed, miserable and insecure as his life was now, when we consider the public humili- ations to which he would have been exposed, between his ancient pledge to Whiggism and his attachment and gratitude to Roy- alty, it is not wonderful that he should have preferred even the alternative of arrests and imprisonments to the risk of bringing upon his political name any further tarnish in such a struggle. Neither could his talents have much longer continued to do them- selves justice, amid the pressure of such cares, and the increased indulgence of habits, which, as is usual, gained upon him, as all 802 MEMOIRS OV THE LIFE 0^ I'Ht! other indulgences vanished. The ancients, we are told, by a sig nificant device, inscribed on the wreaths they wore at banquets the name of Minerva. Unfortunately, from the festal wreath of Sheridan this name was now but too often effaced ; and the same charm, that once had served to give a quicker flow to thought, was now employed to muddy the stream, as it became painful to contemplate what v/as at the bottom of it. By his exclusion, therefore, from Parliament, he was, perhaps, seasonably saved from affording to that " Folly, which loves the martyrdom of Fame,''"^ the spectacle of a great mind, not only surviving itself, but, like the champion in Berni, continuing the combat after life is gone : — '^Andava comhattendo, ed era mo't'to,-- In private society, however, he could, even now, (before the Rubi- con of the cup was passed,) fully justify his high reputation for agreeableness and wit ; and a day which it was my good fortune to spend with him, at the table of Mr. Rogers, has too many mournful, as well as pleasant, associations connected with it, to be easily forgotten by the survivors of the party. The company consisted but of ilr. Rogers him^self, Lord Byron, Mr. Sheridan, and the writer of this Memoir. Sheridan knew the admiration his audience felt for him ; the presence of the young poet, in particular, seemed to bring back his own youth and wit ; and the details he gave of his early life were not less interesting and ani- mating to himself than delightful to us. It was in the course of this evening that, describing to us the poem which Mr. Whitbread had written and sent in, among the other Addresses, for the opening of Drury-Lane, and which, like the rest, turned chiefly on allu- sions to the Phenix, he said, — " But Whitbread made more of this bird than any of them : — he entered into particulars, and * "And Folly loves the marlyrdom of Fame." This fine line is in Lord Byron's Monody to his memory. There is another line, equally true and toucliing, where aliud ng to the irregularities of the latter part of Sheridan's life, ne says — " ind what to them seem'd nee might be but woe " ftlGHT HOK. tllCHARD ^RUNSLeY BHERlBAN. 303' described its wings, beak, tail, &c. ; in short, it was a Poulterer's description of a Phenix !" The following extract from a Diary in my possession, kept by Lord Byron during six months of his residence in London, 1812 — 13, will show the admiration which this great and generous spirit felt for Sheridan : — ^^ Saturday, December 18, 1813. " Lord Holland told me a curious piece of sentimentality in Sheridan. The other night we were all delivering our respec- tive and various opinions on him and other ' hommes 7narquans^^ and mine was this : — ' Whatever Sheridan has done or chosen to do has been par excellence^ always the best of its kind. He has written the best comedy, (School for Scandal,) the best opera, (The Duenna — in my mind far before that St. Giles's lampoon, The Beggar's Opera,) the best farce, (The Critic — it is only too good for an after-piece,) and the best Address, (Monologue on Garrick,) — and to crown all, delivered the very best oration, (the famous Begum Speech,) ever conceived or heard in this country.' Somebody told Sheridan this the next day, and on hearing it, he burst into tears ! — Poor Brinsley ! If they were tears of plea- sure, I would rather have said those few, but sincere, w^ords, than have written the Iliad, or made his own celebrated Philippic. Nay, his own comedy never gratified me more than to hear that he had derived a moment's gratification from any praise of mine — humble as it must appear to ' my elders and my betters.' " The distresses of Sheridan now increased every day, and through the short remainder of his life it is a melancholy task to follow him. The sum arising from the sale of his theatrical property was soon exhausted by the various claims upon it, and he was driven to part with all that he most valued, to satisfy further demands and provide for the subsistence of the day. Those books w^hich, as I have already mentioned, were presented to him by various friends, now stood in their splendid bindings,* * In most of them, too, were the names of the givers. The delicacy with which Mr. Harrison of Wardour-Street, (tlie pawnbroker with whom the books and the cup were de* 304 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE on the shelves of the pawnbroker. The handsome cup, given him by the electors of Stafford, shared the same fate. Three or four fine pictures by Gainsborough, and one by Morland, were sold for little more than five hundred pounds ; ^ and even the precious portrait of his first wife,f by Reynolds, though not ac- tually sold during his life, vanished away from his eyes into other hands. One of the most humiliating trials of his pride was yet to conie. In the spring of this year he was arrested and carried to a spunging-house, where he remained two or three days. This abode, from which the following painful letter to Whit- bread was written, formed a sad contrast to those Princely halls, of which he had so lately been the most brilliant and favored guest, and which were possibly, at that very momicnt, lighted up and crowded with gay company, unmindful of him within those prison walls : — ^''TooWs Court, Carsitor- Street^ Thursday^ past two, " I have done everything in my powder with the solicitors, White and Tonnes, to obtain my release, by substituting a better securitv for them than their detainino; me — but in vain. " Whitbread, putting all false professions of friendship and feeling out of* the question, you have no right to keep me here! — for it is in truth your act — if you had not forcibly withheld posited.) behaved, after the death of Mr. Sheridan, des^erves to be mentioned with praise. Instead of availing himself of llie public feeling at that moment, by submitting these precious relics to the competition of a sale, he privately conmunicated to the family and one or two friends of Sheridan tlie circumstance of his having such articles in his hands, and demanded nothing more than the sum regularly due on them. The Stafford cup is in the possession of Mr. Charles Sheridan. * In the following extract from a note to his solicitor, he refers to these pictures : '' Dear Burgess, "I am perfectly satisfied with your account ; — nothing can be more clear or fair, or more disinterested on your part; — but I must grieve to think that fivii or six hundred pounds for my poor pictures are ndded to ihe expenditure. Hov/ever, we shall come through !'* + As Saint Cecilia. The portrait of ilrs. Sheridan at Knowle, though less ideal than that of Sir Joshua, is, (for tiiis very reason, \)orhaps, as bearing a close/ resemblance to Uie original,) still more beauiiful illGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 305 from me the twelve thousand 'pounds^ in consequence of a threat- ening letter from a miserable swindler, whose claim YOU in particular knew to he a lie, I should at least have been out of the reach of this state of miserable insult — for that, and that only^ lost me my e.eat in Parliament. And I assert that you cannot find a lawAer in the land, that is not either a natuarl-born fool or a corrupted scoundrel, who will not declare that your conduct in this respect was neither w^arrantable nor legal — but let that pass for the present. " Independently of the lOOOZ. ignorantly withheld from me on the day of considering my last claim. I require of you to an- swer the draft I send herew^ith on the part of the Committee, pledging myself to prove to them on the first day I can personal- ly meet them, that there are still thousands and thousands due to me, both legally, and equitably, from the Theatre. My word ought to be taken on this subject ; and you may produce to them this document, if one, among them could think that, under all the circumstances, your conduct required a justification. O God ! with what mad confidence have I trusted your word, — I ask jus- tice from you, and no boon, I enclosed you yesterday three dif- ferent securities, which had you been disposed to have acted even as a private friend, would have made it certain that you might have done so without the smallest risk. These you dis- creetly offered to put into the fire, when you found the object of your humane visit satisfied by seeing me safe in prison. *'I shall only add, that, I think, if I know myself, had our lots been reversed, and I had seen you in my situation, and had left Lady E. in that of my wife, 1 would have risked 6001. rather than have left you so — although I had been in no way accessary in bringing you into that condition. " S. Whitbread, Esq. " R. B. Sheridan." Even in this •situation the sanguineness of his disposition did not desert him ; for he was found by Mr. Whitbread, on his visit to the spunging-house, confidently calculating on the repre- sentation for Westminster, in w^hich the proceedings relative to /96 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OP THE Lord Cochrane at that moment promised a vacancy. On his return home, however, to Mrs. Sheridan, (some arrangements having been made by Whi thread for his release,) all his forti- tude fojsook him, and he burst into a long and passionate fit of wee})ing at the profanation, as he termed it, which his person had suffered. He had for some months had a feeling that his life was near its close , and I find the following touching passage in a letter from him to Mrs. Sheridan, after one of those differences which will sometimes occur between the most affectionate companions, and which, possibly, a remonstrance on his irregularities and want of care of himself occasioned : — " Never again let one harsh w^ord pass between us, during the period, which may not perhaps be long, that we are in this world together, and life, however cloud- ed to me, is mutually spared to us. I have expressed this same sentiment to my son, in a letter I wrote to him a few days since, and I had his answer — a most affecting one, and, I am sure, very sincere — and have since cordially embraced him. Don't imagine that I am expressing an interesting apprehension about myself, which I do not feel." Though the new Theatre of Drury-Lane had now been three years built, his feelings had never allowed him to set his foot within its walls. About this time, however, he was persuaded by his friend. Lord Essex, to dine with him and go in the even- ing to His Lordship's box, to see Kean. Once there, the '•^genius loci'''' seems to have regained its influence over him ; for, on miss- ing him from the box, between the Acts, Lord Essex, who feared 4hat he had left the House, hastened out to inquire, and, to his great satisfaction, found him installed in the Green-room, with all the actors around him, welcoming him back to the old region of his glory, with a sort of filial cordiality. Wine was imme- diately ordered, and a bumper to the health of Mr. Sheridan was drank by all present, with the expression of many a hearty wish that he would often, very often, re-appear among them. This scene, as was natural, exhilarated his spirits, and, on parting wi^h Lord Essex that night, at his own door, in Saville-Row. he HlGfiT HON. RICHARD BRTNSLEY SHERIDAI^. 307 said triumphantly that the world wo^ld soon hear of him, for the Duke of Norfolk was about to bring him into Parliament. ITiis, it appears, was actually the case ; but Death stood near as he spoke. In a few days after his last fatal illness began. Amid all the distresses of these latter years of his life, he ap- pears but rarely to have had recourse to pecuniary assistance from friends. Mr. Peter Moore, Mr. Ironmonger, and one or two others, who did more for the comfort of his decline than any of his high and noble associates, concur in stating that, except for such an occasional trifle as his coach-hire, he was by no means, as has been sometimes asserted, in the habit of borrowing. One instance, however, where he laid himself under this sort of obli- gation, deserves to be mentioned. Soon after the return of Mr. Canning from Lisbon, a letter was put into his hands, in the House of Commons, which proved to be a request from his old friend Sheridan, then lying ill in bed, that he would oblige him with the loan of a hundred pounds. It is unnecessary to say that the request was promptly and feelingly complied with ; and if the pupil has ever regretted leaving the politics of his master, it was not at that moment, at least, such a feeling was likely to present itself There are, in the possession of a friend of Sheridan, copies of a correspondence in which he was engaged this year w^ith two noble Lords and the confidential agent of an illustrious Person- age, upon a subject, as it appears, of the utmost delicacy and importance. The letters of Sheridan, it is said, (for I have not seen them,) though of too secret and confidential a nature to meet the public eye, not only prove the great confidence reposed in him by the parties concerned, but show the clearness and manliness of mind which he could still command, under the pressure of all that was most trying to human intellect. The disorder, with which he was now attacked, arose from a diseased state of the stomach, brought on partly by irregular living, and partly by the harassing anxieties that had, for so many years, without intermission, beset him. His povrers of digestiorr grew every day worse, till he was at length unable to retain any g08 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THS sustenance. Notwithstanding this, however, his strength seemed to be but little broken, and his pulse remained, for some time, strong and regular. Had he taken, indeed, but ordinary care of himself tlirough life, the robust conformation of his fi^ame, and particularly, as I have heard his physician remark, the pecu- liar width and capaciousness of his chest, seemed to mark him out for a long course of healthy existence. In general Nature appears to have a prodigal delight in enclosing her costliest es- sences in the most frail and perishable vessels : — but Sheridan was a signal exception to this remark ; for, with a spirit so " finely touched," he combined all the robustness of the most uninspired clay. Mrs. Sheridan was, at first, not aware of his danger ; but Dr. Bain — whose skill was now, as it ever had been, disinterestedly at the service of his friend,* — thought it right to communicate to her the apprehensions that he felt. From that moment, her attentions to the sufferer never ceased day or night ; and, thougn drooping herself with an illness that did not leave her long be hind him, she watched over his every word and wish, with unre- mitting anxiety, to the last. * A letter rom Sheridan to this amiable mar., (of which I know not the date,) written in reference to a caution which he had given Mrs. Sheridan, against sleeping in the same bed with a lady who was consumptive, expresses feelings creditable alike to the writer and his physician : — *' My dear Sir, July 31. " The caution you recommend proceeds from that attentive kindness which Hester al- ways receives from you, and upon which I place the greatest reliance for her safety. 1 so entirely agree with your apprehensions on the subject, that I think it was very giddy in me not to have been struck with them when she first mentioned having slept with hei friend. Nothing can abate my love for her ; and the manner in which you apply the in Icrest you take in her happiness, and direct the influence you possess in her mind, ren der you, beyond comparison, tlie person I feel most < bliged to upon earth- I take this opportunity of saying lliis upon paper, because it is a subject on which I always find it difficult to spt'ak. " With respect to that part of your note in which you express such friendly partiality, as to my parliamentary conduct, I need not add that there is no man whose good opinion can be more flattering to ma. " I am ever, my dear Bain, " Y'our sincere and obliged "R B. SHKRIDAIf." RIGHT HCN. RICHARD BRIJS^SLEY SHERIDAN. 309 Connected, no doubt, with the disorganization of his stomach, was an abscess, from which, though distressingly situated, he does not appear to have suffered much pain. In the spring of this year, however, he was obliged to confine himself, almost entirely, to nis bed. Being expected to attend the St. Patrick's Dinner, on the 17th of March, he wrote a letter to the Duke of Kent, who was President, alleging severe indisposition as the oii«i3e c-f hife absence. The contents of this letter were com raunicated to the company, and produced, as appears by the following note from the Duke of Kent, a strong sensation : — Kensington Palace y March 27, 1816. " My dear Sheridan, " I have been so hurried ever since St. Patrick's day, as to be unable earlier to thank you for your kind letter, which I received while presiding at the festive board ; but I can assure you, I was not unmindful of it then^ but announced the afflicting cause of your absence to the company, who expressed, in a manner that could not be misunderstood^ their continued affection for the writer of it. It now only remains for me to assure you, that I appreciate as I ought the sentiments of attachment it contains for me, and which will ever be most cordially returned by him, who is with the most friendly regard, my dear Sheridan, " Yours faithfully, " The Right Hon. K B. Sheridan, " Edward." The following letter to him at this time from his elder sister will be read with interest : — "My dear Brother, Dublin, Mag 9, 1816. " I am very, very sorry you are ill ; but I trust in God your naturally strong constitution will retrieve all, and that I shall soon have the satisfaction of hear ing that you are in a fair way of recovery. I well know the nature of your complaint, that it is extremely painful, but if properly treated, and no doubt you have the best advice, not dangerous. I know a lady now past seventy four, who many years since was attacked with a suuilar 310 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE complaint, and is now as well as most persons of her time of lif^. Where poulticing is necessary, I have known oatmeal used with the best effect. Forgive, dear brother, this officious zeal. Your son Thomas told me he felt obliged to me for not prescribing for him. I did not, because in his case I thought it would be ineffec- tual ; in yours I have reason to hope the contrary. I am very glad to hear of the good effect change of climate has made in him ; — I took a great liking to him ; there was something kind m his manner that won upon my affections. Of your son Charles I hear the most delightful accounts : — that he has an excellent and cultivated understanding, and a heart as good. May he be a blessing to you, and a compensation for much you have endured ! That J do not know him, that I have not seen you, (so early and so long the object of my affection,) for so many years, has not been my fault; but I have ever considered it as a drawback upon a situation not otherwise unfortunate ; for, to use the words of Goldsmith, I have endeavored to ' draw upon content for the deficiencies of fortune ;' and truly I have had some employment in that way, for considerable have been our worldly disappoint- ments. But those are not the worst evils of life, and we have good children, which is its first blessing. I have often told you my son Tom bore a strong resemblance to you, when I loved you preferably to any thing the world contained. This, which was the case with him m childhood and early youth, is still so in mature years. In character of mind, too, he is very like you, though education and situation have made a great difference. At that period of existence, when the temper, morals, and pro- pensities are formed, Tom had a mother who watched over his health, his well-being, and every part of education in which a female could be useful. You had lost a mother who would have cherished you, whose talents you inherited, who would have soft- ened the asperity of our father's temper, and probably have prevented his unaccountable partialities. You have always shown a noble independence of spirit, that the pecuniary difficulties you often had to encounter could not induce you to forego. As a public man, you have been, like the motto of the Lefanu family. RIGHT HON. EICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN, 311 ^Sine macula;^ and I am persuaded had you not too early been thrown upon the world, and alienated from your family, you would have been equally good as a private character. My son is eminently so. * * * " Do, dear brother, send me one line to tell me you are better, and believe me, most affectionately, " Yours, " Alicia Lefanu." While death was thus gaining fast on Sheridan, the miseries of his life were thickening around him also ; nor did the last cor ner, in which he now lay down to die, afford him any asylum from the clamors of his legal pursuers. Writs and executions came in rapid succession, and bailiffs at length gained possession of his house. It was about the beginning of May that Lord Holland, on being informed by Mr. Rogers, (who was one of the very few that watched the going out of this great light with interest,) of the dreary situation in which his old friend was ly- ing, paid him a visit one evening, in company with Mr. Rogers, and by the cordiality, suavity, and cheerfulness of his conversa- tion, shed a charm round that chamber of sickness, which, per- haps, no other voice but his own could have imparted. Sheridan was, I believe, sincerely attached to Lord Holland, in whom he saw transmitted the same fine qualities, both of mind and heart, which, notwithstanding occasional appearances to the contrary, he had never ceased to love and admire in his great relative ; — the same ardor for Right and impatience of Wrong — the same mixture of wisdom and simplicity, so tempering each other, as to make the simplicity refined and the wisdom unaffected— the same gentle magnanimity of spirit, intolerant only of tyranny and injustice — and, in addition to all this, a range and vivacity of conversation, entirely his own, which leaves no subject untouched or unadorned, but is, (to borrow a fancy of Dryden,) " as the Morning of the Mind," bringing new objects and images succes- sively into view, and scattering its own fresh light over all, Such a visit, therefore, could not fail to be soothing and gratify S12 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE ing to Sheridan ; and, on parting, both Lord Holland and Mr. Rogers comforted him with the assurance that some steps should be taken to ward off the immediate evils that he dreaded. An evening or two after, (Wednesday, May 15,) I was with Mr. Rogers, when, on returning home, he found the following af flicting note upon his table : — " Saville-Row, "I find things settled so that 150/. will remove all difficulty. I am absolutely undone and broken-hearted. I shall negotiate for the Plays successfully in the course of a week, when all shall be returned. I have desired Fairbrother to get back the Guar- antee for thirty. " They are going to put the carpets out of window, and break into Mrs. S.'s room and take me — for God's sake let me see you. " R. B. S." It was too late to do any thing when this note was received, being then betw^een twelve and one at night ; but Mr. Rogers and I walked dow^n to Saville-Row together to assure ourselves that the threatened arrest had not yet been put in execution. A servant spoke to us out of the area, and said that all w^as safe for the night, but that it was intended, in pursuance of this new proceeding, to paste bills over the front of the house next day. On the following morning I was early with Mr. Rogers, and willingly undertook to be the bearer of a draft for 150/.** to Sor ville-Row. I found Mr. Sheridan good-natured and cordial as ever; and though he w^as then w^ithin^a few weeks of his death, his voice had not lost its fulness or strength, nor was that lustre, for which his eyes were so remarkable, diminished. He showed, too, his usual sanguineness of disposition in speaking of the price that he expected for his Dramatic Works, and of the certainty he felt of being able to arrange all his affairs, if his complaint would but suffer him to leave his bed. * Lord Holland afterwards insisted upon paying- the half of this sum, — which was no« the first of the sanne amount that my liberal friend, Mr. Rogers, had advanced for Sheri dan. EIGHT HON. KICHARD BRIISSLEY SHEKIDAJ^. 813 In the following month, his powers began rapidly to fail him ; — his stomach was completely worn out, and could no longer bear any kind of sustenance. During the whole of this time, as far as I can learn, it does not appear that, (with the exceptions I have mentioned,) any one of his Noble or Royal friends ever called at his door, or even sent to inquire after him ! About this period Doctor Bain received the following note from Mr. Vaughan : — "My dear Sir, " An apology in a case of humanity is scarcely necessary, be- sides I have the honor of a slight acquaintance with you. A friend of mine, hearing of our friend Sheridan's forlorn situation, and that he has neither money nor credit for a few comforts, has employed me to convey a small sum for his use, through such channel as I think right. I can devise none better than through you. If I had had the good fortune to have seen you, I should have left for this purpose a draft for 50Z. Perhaps as much more might be had if it will be conducive to a good end — of course you must feel it is not for the purpose of satisfying trou- blesome people. I will say more to you if you will do me the honor of a call in your way lo Sa^dlle-Street to-morrow. I am a mere agent. " I am, " My dear Sir, " Most truly yours, "23, Grafton Street, "John Taylor Vaughan. " If I should not see you before twelve, I will come through the passage to you." In his interview with Dr. Bain, Mr. Vaughan stated, that the sum thus placed at his disposal was. in all, 200/. ;* and the pro- position being submitted to Mrs. Sheridan, that lady, after con- sulting w^ith some of her relatives, returned for answer that, as ♦ Mr. Vaughan did uol give Doctor Bain lo understand that he was authorized to go W- yond tlie 200Z. ; but, in a conversation which I liad with him a year or two after, mcop- teiijplation of this Memoir, lie lold me tliai a further supply was intende4. 314 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE there was a sufficiency of means to provide all that was neces- sary for her husband's comfort, as well as her own, she begged leave to decline the offer. Mr. Vaughan always said, that the donation, thus meant to be doled out, came from a Royal hand ; — but this is hardly credi- ble. It would be safer, perhaps, to let the suspicion rest upon that gentleman's memory, of having indulged his own benevo- lent disposition in this disguise, than to suppose it possible that so scanty and reluctant a benefaction was the sole mark of atten- tion accorded by a " gracious Prince and Master"* to the last, death-bed wants of one of the most accomplished and faithful servants, that Royalty ever yet raised or ruined by its smiles. When the philosopher Anaxagoras lay dying for want of suste- nance, his great pupil, Pericles, sent him a sum of money. " Take it back," said Anaxagoras — " if he wished to keep the lamp alive, he ought to have administered the oil before !" Li the mean time, the clamors and incursions of creditors in- creased. A sheriff's officer at length arrested the dying man in his bed, and w^as about to carry him off, in his blankets, to a spunging-house, w^hen Doctor Bain interfered — and, by threaten- ing the officer with the responsibility he must incur, if, as was but too probable, his prisoner should expire on the way, averted this outrage. About the middle of June, the attention and sympathy of the Public w^ere, for the first time, awakened to the desolate situa- tion of Sheridan, by an article that appeared in the Morning Post, — written, as I understand, by a gentleman, who, though on no very cordial terms with him, forgot every other feeling in a generous pity for his fate, and in honest indignation against those who now deserted him. " Oh delav not," said the writer, with- out naming the person to whom he alluded — "delay not to draw aside the curtain within wliich that proud spirit hides its sufler ings." Pie then adds, with a striking anticipation of what afler- wards happened : — "Prefer ministering in the chamber of feick ness to mustering at f Spe Sheridijii's Letter, nai^e 2^ RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 315 * The splendid sorrows that adorn the hearse ;' I say. Life and Succor against Westminster-Abbey and a Fune- ral !"' This article produced a strong and general sensation, and was reprinted in the same paper the following day. Its effect, too, was soon visible m the calls made at Sheridan's door, and in the appearance of such names as the Duke of York, the Duke of Argyle, &c. among the visitors. But it was now too late ; — the spirit, that these unavailing tributes might once have comforted, was now fast losing the consciousness of every thing earthly, but pain. After a succession of shivering fits, he fell into a state of exhaustion, in which he continued, with but few more signs of suffering, till his death. A day or two before that event, the Bishop of London read prayers by his bed-side ; and on Sunday, the seventh of July, in the sixty-fifth year of his age, he died. On the following Saturday the Funeral took place ; — his re- mains having been previously removed from Saville-Row to the house of his friend, Mr. Peter Moore, in Great George-Street, Westminster. From thence, at one o'clock, the procession moved on foot to the Abbey, where, in the only spot in Poet's Corner that remained unoccupied, the body was interred; and the following simple inscription marks its resting-place : — "RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN, BORN, 1751, DIED, 7th JULY, 1816. THIS MARBLE IS THE TRIBUTE OF AN ATTACHED FRIEND, PETER MOORE." Seldom has there been seen such an array of rank as g/aced this Funeral."* The Pall-bearers were the Duke of Bedford, the Earl of Lauderdale, Earl Mulgra^^^e, the Lord Bishop of London, Lord Holland, and Lord Spencer. Among the mourners were II was well remarked by a French Joiirna., in coiitrasting llie penury of Sheridan's latter years with the splendor