victimized? One cannot like this Mrs. Sheridan, after all, notwithstanding all her reputed beauty and accomplish

ments.

Here, however, were ample means for commencing housekeeping. For the rest, Sheridan proposed to rely upon his personal intellectual resources; and was ere long, engaged in the composition of a comedy. In the third year of his marriage, and twenty-fourth of his age, namely, in January, 1775, the well-known" Rivals" was brought out on the boards of Covent Garden, and on the first night of representation was pronounced to be a failure. Sheridan was of course sadly disconcerted; his fond anticipations of success grievously marred and well nigh overthrown. The unfavourable reception was attributed to the unusual length of the piece, and to the indifferent acting of certain of the players. The next night, however, owing to an important change in the representation of the characters, the performance was much better received, and continued for several nights afterwards to be acted with increasing success. Gradually Sheridan found himself standing high in public estimation. His play was produced in the provinces with much enthusiasm; and at Bath, especially, it occasioned a sensation which yielded the author the greatest possible contentment.

Fortune's entertainments, it would seem there is always something to dash one's satisfaction.

But now, what shall a generous dramatist do for the clever and assiduous actor, who, to all appearance, turned the fate of his comedy? What better than write another play for his especial advantage? Accordingly, "for the benefit of Mr. Clinch," the humorous farce of "St. Patrick's Day, or the Scheming Lieutenant," was brought out successfully in the following May. It is far inferior both in pretension and execution to the "Rivals," but appears to have served the purpose for which it was written. By the middle of November Sheridan was ready with an Opera, the "Duenna," which immediately became a favourite with the public. It enjoyed at the outset a much longer career of approbation than even the famous "Beggar's Opera," which had hitherto been looked upon as the most successful drama of its class ever placed upon the stage. Three successful plays in one year cannot be considered bad work; Sheridan had reason to be thankful to his stars as well as to his genius.

One would be glad to see a little more of his household life, but cannot so much as ascertain whether he has gained even any apprehension of the nature of curtain lectures. Nay, it is matter of mere conjecture where he He had made a brilliant beginning; lives-whether in London, or at Bath, had successfully invaded the promised or in the wilderness of Timbuctooland; henceforth the kingdom of re- only that he emerges occasionally into nown seemed open for his occupation. daylight, or, more properly, into lampOnce during the popularity of the light, in connection with the theatres. 'Rivals," Sheridan's father, who had We gather, however, from printed statefor some years been estranged from ments, that towards the close of this him, and obstinately refused a recon- same year (1775) of Sheridan's sudden ciliation, hearing much of his son's popularity, the theatrical circles in Lonplay, went to the theatre, accompanied don were much surprised, and not a by his daughters, to see it for himself, little concerned, by a rumour that David and pass judgment on its merits. The Garrick was about to relinquish the son was sitting at the side scene oppo- management of the theatre in Drury site to his parent, and "continued Lane. He had enjoyed a long and throughout the performance to gaze at prosperous career, and now, at the age him with tenderness and affection." of sixty, seemed disposed to retire into Old Sheridan, notwithstanding, re- the chimney corner of contemplative mained for the present immovable; no life, and there adjust himself as quietly reconciliation was accomplished. On as might be practicable. All the theareturning home Brinsley was over-trical world inquired who was likely to powered with emotion, and in reply to his wife's inquiries, observed that he was very much distressed that his father and sisters should sit before him, and he be unable to join them. Thus, at the brightest and most agreeable of

be his successor? Many persons would wish to be, but it turns out eventually that Sheridan is the man. In the month of June, in the next year, a contract was entered into by which Sheridan and responsible friends of

his, became possessed of the whole of Garrick's interest in the house, for the total consideration of thirty-five thousand pounds. For a young man utterly without capital-for what he realized by play-writing was barely a sufficient income-this must be considered as rather a bold stroke of business.

vers himself or herself wittily-with a facetious circumlocution, and selection of phrases, calculated to produce a witty impression. When you have called Sheridan a wit, you have said all that can be said of him, to mark his intrinsic qualities of genius or of character. An electricity of wit pervades his entire personality. His visible conduct is the natural outcome of an undisciplined predominance of this principle; and his life is a failure, because wit was suffered to be its ascendant element instead of conscience.

promises to pay. He is the genius of bankruptcy, cutting a holiday figure in gay attire, among the assembled solvencies of the earth, and by the fascination of his abundant pleasantry commanding their involuntary admiration. His life is a witty speculation—a brilliant headlong hazard to which he comIt has been written that "Every one mits himself with a pleasant face The who looked on this transaction was gospel and economy of wit are to him astonished at the speculative disposition for Bible, prayer-book, day-book, ledger, of Sheridan; they marvelled at the cash-book, and treasury. His plays are whole of this singular transaction from an admirable exposition and illustration nothingness to the possession of an im- of the powers and character of the man. mense property." Truly, the "specula- The utmost impression and effect which tive disposition" of the man is wonder-pure wit in the drama can produce is ful, enormous, manifestly transcending here produced. Every character, in his the bounds of prudent calculation. That or her individual degree, is a wit; deliis the type of him. Did we not find him of old expecting to realize two hundred pounds for a school-boy's farce? Did he not melo-dramatically abscond with a young lady of eighteen, who had charmed him by her singing, and her fascinating syren face-confronted by the strongest evidence that she was a practised and practising coquette of the most portentous magnitude? Has he not fought duels as comico-absurd as any he caused to be represented on the stage, and written narratives of them, the speculative audacity whereof borders on the sublime? This egregious dispo- From the day that Sheridan undersition and ability to speculate, to make took the responsibilities of an enormous a sensation, to do and to say brilliant theatrical property, without any actual and striking things-this, if we mistake substratum of capital to sustain them, he not, is the ideal mainspring of his cha- became gradually involved in pecuniary racter. He is the incarnation of Sang embarrassments, from which no after skill Froid-an easy pleasantry personified. or integrity of purpose could deliver him. Wit is the central feature of his mind. He was thenceforth the chancellor of the Almost everything he does, almost every-impossible, replenishing his exchequer thing he says, has some bold peculiarity, from the illusory stores of some bank indicative of the underlying presence of of imagination. It was already whisthe witty principle. His cool indiffe-pered that the young author was living rence to the ulterior consequences of his far beyond his means; that he was assayings and performances, is but ano-sociating with the great and the wealthy, ther phasis of the prominent element of and giving liberal entertainments, while his constitution; for wit is essentially there were no visible funds from which indifferent, and cares only for the pre- his expenditure was drawn. He is dissent display. Thus he leaves his every tinguished, nevertheless, by an undeniact and word, as it were, behind him able talent for raising ready money, with a sort of unrepenting unconcern. which, ever with the pressure of affairs, His dramatic compositions are left for is brought more and more into requiyears with the printer's errors uncor- sition. He has an occult power over rected; his pecuniary responsibilities all manner of brokers, usurers, monied are indefinitely postponed by a witty acquaintances, and trades-people; can evasion; he is the crown prince of good everywhere command illimitable credit. fellowship, and speculates upon his ex- Such is the fascination of his address, pectations, till he is forced to abdicate his plausibility, his unimpeachable air by anticipation, and sell the reversion of honour and good faith, that he could of his kingdom to meet his boundless probably raise money enough on his

personal security to have paid off the national debt. None can doubt his liberality, his generosity, the strict integrity of his intentions; "honest man," is written in his countenance; he shall ultimately ruin himself through sheer repute of honesty. He can make it a pleasurable thing for you to become his creditor; nay, he has the skill to induce you to borrow that you may have the gratification of lending to him. Such a genius for the ways and means of private life no other man was ever known to have been endowed with.

with the repeated strokes and assiduous application of a masterly painter, who will spare no pains to perfect to the uttermost that which he has once considerately undertaken. Moore has shown us that of most of his productions there were several manuscripts, exhibiting gradual changes of plan, and variations of the composition, as the writer's inspiration became more clear, and had been more perfectly unfolded. It was the most difficult thing in the world for him to finish any thing, and even when he had succeeded in giving to it all the graces of style of which it seemed susceptible, he was scarcely ever satisfied. It has been affirmed on good authority that notwithstanding the incessant labour which he had for a long time bestowed on the "School for Scandal," it was at length announced for representation before the actors had received their respective parts. On reference to the original manuscript, Moore found that the concluding scenes bore evident marks of haste, they having been written when there was no longer time for fastidiousness. On the last leaf there is inscribed in the author's handwriting, "Finished at last, thank God;" to which the prompter, something of a humorist, has added, "Amen. W. Hopkins.' Singular as it may seem, there is no printed copy of this play authenticated

His commencement as a manager, however, did not give the public any great promise of improvement in the conduct of the theatre. The "Trip to Scarborough," an alteration of Vanburgh's "Relapse," was his first production in this capacity, but yielded little satisfaction to either play-goers or performers. A succession of stock pieces, got up with indifferent spirit, and presented with little skill, contributed to create further disappointment, and to induce general regret at the exchange in the management. Audiences were gradually growing thin, when Sheridan suddenly astonished and delighted them by the production of a new comedy, which has deservedly gained for him a high and permanent reputation. On the 8th of May, 1777, the inimitable "School for Scandal" was first success- by Sheridan; he could never complete fully represented. With this brilliant and captivating performance the town was gratified beyond description. It is indeed a composition of consummate skill and genius; light, airy, sparkling, every where running over with wit; a genuine effusion of an imagination alive to conversational effect, and endued with a perfect mastery over the power of striking contrast. It is decidedly the most complete and effective of all the author's works. It was not produced rapidly, by a single felicitous effort, but was slowly elaborated into its present shape by a careful and scrupulous diligence. Sheridan's mode of writing was far more artistic than is generally supposed. His most brilliant turns of expression, and happiest gems of thought, were seldom the instantaneous effusions of his mind, but underwent, for the most part, a gradual transformation before reaching the final perfection in which we see them. His genius was not an intellectual daguerreotype, drawing portraits with the rays of the sun, but it worked

it to his mind, and so, with characteristic indifference, left it to circulate from hand to hand without taking any steps to be assured of its correctness. Не made an arrangement many years after its appearance, with Ridgway of Piccadilly for the purchase of the copyright, but when urged to furnish the manuscript, his answer was, "that he had been nineteen years endeavouring to satisfy himself with the style of the School for Scandal,' but had not yet succeeded."

Could Sheridan have produced a new play every three months, he might perhaps have kept Drury Lane in a flourishing condition. But with his comparatively slow and collected manner of writing, this was obviously impossible; and as he took little interest in bringing forward suitable pieces by other writers, the affairs of the house soon became entangled. An obsequious critic, in reference to the success of the "School for Scandal," had observed to Garrick, 'This, sir, is but a single play, and in the long run will be but a slender help

To you, Mr. pondence between himself and Mr. King with these words:—“ Poor old Drury, feel that it will very soon be in the hands of the Philistines."

to support the theatre. Garrick, I must say the Atlas that propped the stage has left his station;" and though, the Atlas replied, that he had been fortunate in finding "another The complaints urged against Sheridan Hercules to succeed him," yet it was were manifold. He neglected to open very soon apparent that the shoulders his letters, which on that account were of the successor were inadequate to the collected into an indiscriminate heap, burden he had assumed, and that the and oftentimes when their accumulation obsequious critic had given proof of rather alarmed the manager, they were some discernment Nothing could ex- consigned to the fire, and frequently ceed the mismanagement into which communications of importance were thus everything fell. Numerous were the sacrificed. Authors complained of the letters addressed to Garrick, respecting loss or neglect of their manuscripts, and the heedlessness and perversity of the even boldly asserted that their plots, innew manager. Mrs. Clive wrote, "Every- cidents, and conversations, were approbody is raving against Sheridan for his priated and brought out in such shapes supineness; there never was in nature that the parent only recognised his such a contrast as Garrick and Sheridan offspring by some feature which was -what have you given him that he unmistakeable. This latter accusation, keeps so?" But a letter from Hopkins, however, Sheridan unhesitatingly met the prompter will best show the chaotic and ridiculed in the "Critic;" and as and unsatisfactory state of the theatre's far as we can perceive, it is wanting in affairs:—“We played last night Much sufficient evidence to support it. At the Ado about Nothing,' and had to make same time, his general heedlessness is an apology for three principal parts. indefensible, and he had occasionally to About twelve o'clock Mr. Henderson, pay for it, being now and then comfrom Covent Garden, sent word that he pelled to silence some urgent claimant was not able to play. We got Mr. with money, by way of indemnity for Lewis, from Covent Garden, who sup- the unwitting loss or destruction of a plied the place of Benedict. Soon after manuscript. Mr. Parsons sent word he could not play; Mr. Moody supplied the place of Dogberry; and about four in the afternoon, Mr. Vernon sent word he could not play; Mr. Mattock supplied his part of Balthazar. I thought myself very happy in getting these wide gaps so well stopped. In the middle of the first act a message was brought me that Mr. Lamash, who was to play the part of Borachio, was not come to the house. I had nobody that could go on for it, so I was obliged to cut his scenes in the first and second acts entirely out, and get Mr. Wrighton to go on for the remainder of the part. At length, we got the play over without the audience finding it out. We had a very bad house. Mr. Parsons is not able to play in the School for Scandal,' to-morrow night; I do not know how we shall be able to settle that. I hope the pantomime may prove successful, and relieve us from this dreadful situation." These, and endless similar communications, could not fail to be distressing to Garrick, who, independently of the large pecuniary interest he had at stake, felt great anxiety for the welfare of Sheridan and his colleagues; he concludes a corres

Notwithstanding the general disorder into which the affairs of Drury Lane were falling, Sheridan involved himself, in 1788, by the purchase of additional interests in the theatre. His management still continued to give almost universal dissatisfaction; play-goers were growing mutinously disposed, and seemed likely to break out into visible rebellion. Sheridan had the fortune to appease them just at the right time, by a new production of his own-the memorable farce of "The Critic, or a Tragedy Rehearsed," the last dramatic effort of his genius. Being a clever travesty of the dramatic compositions of the day, and, in part, a satire upon a living author whose irritability was the occasion of much ridicule: it met with unbounded approbation. Cumberland, a voluminous play-writer, whose works are now almost forgotten, and never were worthy of being remembered, was broadly, but most ingeniously, caricatured, under the character of Sir Fretful Plagiary, who seems to have been introduced solely for the purpose, as he has no manner of connection with the piece. Puff and Dangle are also understood to have been well-known dabblers in the

theatrical business of the day. Boundless the joke, set to in good earnest, and was the amusement and joy of the play- finished the work to the great delight of goers accordingly. What so delightful all parties. as to see one's neighbours and acquaintances exhibited for the popular entertainment? The piece, however, has undeniable merits as a burlesque, and is as complete a satire upon the plays of the present day, as it is of those of the last generation. For a long time no tragedy could be produced at any theatre without the risk of creating laughter; and, accordingly, all managers were "bound to decline articles of that de-versation prepared, but none of which scription."

With the "Critic" ends the series of Sheridan's dramatic writings; for "Pizarro," which was brought out shortly afterwards, is only an adaptation to the English stage of Kotzebue's "Spaniards in Peru," and is in great part a mere translation. He appears to have medi tated many other works, slight sketches of which were drawn, the outlines of characters delineated, and heads of con

were perfected, and remain now only as literary curiosities.

There is an amusing anecdote, well authenticated, touching the manner in When a man by incompetency or which the "Critic" was completed. Two negligence has given proof that he is days before it was announced to be inadequate to the management of his played, Sheridan had not finished the own concerns, he usually feels justified last scene. Everybody was anxious and in undertaking those of the nation. nervous; Mr. Linley and Dr. Ford, With a dissolution of Parliament in being joint and responsible managers, 1780, Sheridan was accordingly seized were in no enviable state; the per- with an ambition to become a legis. formers looked on each other with rue-lator; conceiving it to be "the peculiar ful faces. King, who had the part of excellence of the British constitution, Puff to sustain, was the stage manager; that a man could push forward into it was accordingly his especial duty to notice and distinction the talents or find out Sheridan, and to weary him abilities, whatever they might be, with with remonstrances on the backward which Providence had endowed him." state of things. But matters went on Through the interest apparently of arismuch as usual; Sheridan came to the tocratic friends he sallies forth to cantheatre, made the customary promise vass the constituency of Stafford. By that he was "just going home to finish his winning address, his infinite wit and it;" that in fact it was completed, and drollery, his elegant deportment, his only wanted an additional line or two. liberality of hand, he secures almost His father-in-law, Linley, knew the universal favour. Such a persuasive only sufficient spur to his industry; he tongue, such a felicitous ingenuity in therefore ordered a night rehearsal, and controverting or establishing convic invited Sheridan to dine with him, gave tion, such boundless courtesy and unhim a capital dinner, proposed a lounge hesitating prodigality of promise, such to Drury Lane whilst the supper was breadth of urbanity and immeasurable preparing; Sheridan assented, and they sympathy with all conditions of electors, sauntered together up and down the stage could not fail with any human constiprevious to the rehearsal, when King, tuency to yield results. He was tristepping up to the remiss dramatist, umphantly returned to represent the requested a moment's audience, and burghers of Stafford in Parliament. went with him into the small green- Singular to say, many of his promises room, where there was a comfortable were scrupulously kept. Each voter fire, a good arm chair, a table furnished who wanted a place found to his delight with pens, ink, and paper, two bottles that one had been reserved for him; of claret, a tempting dish of anchovy not a man who asked it but was gratisandwiches, and the prompter's un-fied with an offer either at Drury Lane finished copy of the "Critic." King, immediately Sheridan entered the room, withdrew and locked the door, when Ford and Linley made their pleasure known to him, that he was to finish the wine and the farce, but not to be allowed to stir out of the room until both were at an end. Sheridan laughed heartily at

Theatre or the Opera House, and on repairing thither was promptly installed in his situation. Ever with successive elections he is enabled to accommodate new friends; for most of those who ac cepted posts under him quickly resigned them, as their salaries for the most part were only promises to pay, which were