in forcing a passage for the despairing officer, whose gratitude for our services could not have been expressed more warmly had we obtained him an advance of rank in the army. The reader may hence form a judgment of the formidable nature of that competition which poor David Garrick so laboriously toiled to counteract!

For the ingenious thought of " play ing off the mother against the son, by the revival of the Discovery,' and taking on himself to act the principal part in it," we are, I presume, indebted to the happy imagination of the writer. That Mr Garrick played Mr Anthony Bromville is true, for I have seen him in it; but whether before or after the Duenna's appearance I do not recollect, perhaps both. That he made it a principal part by his playing it, is also true; but it never was one of his popular characters, because there were few who could relish and appreciate its peculiar humour, viz., that of an aged gentleman returning the romantic passion of the vieille cour. I know no character of his which elicited less of clamorous applause. His performance of it during the run of the Duenna, might more justly he deemed a compliment to the genius of that family, which could thus afford the highest entertainment to two great London audiences on the same night.

But why call it reviving? This term, I conceive, applies only to plays of ancient date, some of which are occasionally revived. The "Discovery" was emparatively a new play, written by a lady, who, if alive in the year 1775, evuli hardly be called an old woman. It was well received both on and off the stage, and Mr Garrick often amused himself and the public by acting a part of which no other player well understood, or was able to exhibit the humour. It was, moreover, one of the least fatiguing of his manifold characters, a circumstance rather unfavourable to the biographer's notion of that increased toil and exertion which the Duenna so unfortunately imposed upon him. Even admitting that this Opera had diminished his profits by a few hundreds, of what art of consequence could that be to a an abounding in wealth, without a child on whom to bestow it, in the ixtieth year of his age, and about to retire from that profession, of which, for so many years, he had been the

unequalled, and perhaps unequalable, honour and ornament?

Indulgence is certainly due to his biographer for an error into which he could not possibly have fallen, had he been old enough to appreciate theatrical talent in the year 1775. His desire of doing full justice to the merits and respectability of the Sheridan family, is fair and laudable, but does more credit to his friendship than to his judgment. In the second page of his book, he mentions "the competition and even rivalry which the father of Richard Brinsley so long maintained with Garrick." Tom Sheridan the rival and competitor of David Garrick! Yes, as Shadwell was of Dryden, or an ordinary commodore of Horatio Viscount Nelson! The one, not only at the head of his profession, but confessedly the greatest actor that ever appeared on the British stage, the other a sensible and judicious player, who filled several parts in tragedy respectably, but in one only (or rather in one scene, viz., King John and Hubert) acknowledged to have no superior. Sheridan invited Garrick to assist him in Dublin, of whose stage he was then manager, at a very early period of the latter's life, even then confessing the full superiority of his powers. While Garrick remained, the houses were crowded to such suffocating excess (the weather being warm), that many suffered by a sickness which was called the Garrick fever. With such support, though but for a short season, Sheridan no doubt filled his pockets; but what did he do when this only equal performer was gone? The final result of his managership was bankruptcy, or something little short of it. Richard Brinsley himself might have corrected his biographer's error. From his monody on Garrick may be collected the opinion he entertained of the British Roscius, an opinion most unequivocally excluding all idea of competition or rivalship between Garrick and Sheridan. In one of his letters at this time (while preparing the Duenna for the stage) he says, my father was astonishingly well received on Saturday night in Cato--I think it will not be many days before we are reconciled." This expression seems to imply some surprise at his very favourable reception in a favourite part, and would hardly have been used had he been speaking of one who was able

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to maintain a competition with Garrick, and who, besides, had been long absent from his former Lordon friends and admirers. Sheridan was indeed always well received, as his sterling merit deserved, but his powers of attracting an audience were not of the highest order. I saw him play Cato in that very year to very thin houses. His theatrical character has been ac curately drawn by Churchill in the Rosciad, who, with more than usual candour, does justice to his excellencies without exaggerating his defects. Of that rough and vigorous satirist the praise may be always depended on, but not so the censure. He has been most cruelly unjust to the celebrated Spranger Barry, one of the most fascinating actors, in many parts, who ever delighted or adorned a theatre. He, indeed, though infinitely inferior in the extent and versatility of his powers, might with some reason have been called a rival and competitor of Garrick. Nature had bestowed on him advantages rarely united in one person, a tall and elegant figure, a beautiful countenance, and a most mellifluous voice. In Romeo, he disputed the palm with the accomplished Garrick himself; in Lear, he approached to an equality; and in Othello and Alexander the Great, he shone unrivalled. Churchill's observation on Sheridan might have been reserved for him whose great obligations were to bounteous nature

"Where he falls short, 'tis Nature's fault alone,

Where he succeeds, the merit's all his own."

Mrs Barry, too, it is but fair to say, was, in general acting, among the very first actresses of that day; in the heart-rending scenes of tragedy fully equal, and sometimes, I had almost said, superior to Mrs Siddons herself. It is not generally known, but unless I mistake very much, it will be found true, that this latter great actress and amiable woman appeared about this time on the boards of Drury Lane in an inferior cast of characters-probably she was not then aware of her own great powers. But enough of theatricals.

I cannot, however, take leave of histrionical reminiscences thus suggested, without some farther notice of that ingenious fellow-countryman, by whose biographical publication they have

been awakened. But am I not guilty of a misnomer? We cannot, I think, strictly call him compatriot, who has withdrawn himself from our shores, and robbed the land of his birth and affection of all the advantage derivable from personal excellence and pecuniary expenditure. To a poor country the latter is of some moment, though unaccompanied with any inheritance save that of virtue, and his patriotic excellencies may well enough be spared amidst the redundancy of similar worth and talent which he has left behind. But, though absent in body, he is, I shall be told, present in spirit,

true, he is. Of this spiritual visitation, we possess unquestionable proof in the pacific, sentimental, conciliatory, and benevolent romance entitled Memoirs of Captain Rock. This exquisite and veracious production is not only an apology for, but a justification of, his absence. Of other absentees, unfortunately over numerous, we may, we must lament and deplore the loss; of that of him who threw his firebrand among materials already too inflammable-never. That the torch has been extinguished without the quantum of nocturnal illumination contemplated by the pyrotechnical compounder, is a failure for which he has not the smallest cause of selfreproach-it was not his fault.

Longinus I think it is, who advises a writer to avail himself of esta blished models of composition, and when about to commit his thoughts to paper, to consider how such or such an author would probably have written. Sheridan's Irish biographer seems to have had this precept under view, in some degree at least, but rather in style than in sentiment, for in the latter they are frequently at variance. Sheridan's political creed was, unfortunately as it should seem for himself, taken from the Whigs, and the active warmth of his heart rivetted the early attachment he had formed to some very eminent men of that headstrong and turbulent party. That he became sensible of his error there is abundant reason to believe; but unhappily for his comfort, his character, his peace of mind, and perhaps, I may add, of his country, it came too late. It is, however, due to his fame to acknowledge, that there were moments when the strength of his understanding burst the fetters of his bondage,

and the sense of what he owed to his country and his King, triumphed over his habitual subjection to the domination of a party. This, in the eyes of his biographer, is an inexpiable offence, and no wonder. Infallibility is the test and basis of his religious and political creed, and consistency obliges him to consign to disgrace and condemnation here, if not hereafter, the blind and infatuated mortals who presume to think otherwise. Yet were there, for I remember the time right well, many whom the world called honest, respectable, and wise, who did veature to give poor Sheridan the highest credit for what they esteemed his voluntary, honourable, and manly support of government, on some most trying and critical emergencies: on occasions which found the selfish, the envious, and the disappointed seekers of place and power skulking in their pantry holes, or wanting courage to face the storm that threatened desolation and distraction to their country. -But what of that? The modern Samson, who scattered fiery brands, not in his enemy's country, but his own, is pleased to be of a different opinion, and against his authority what patriot will contend?

With respect to style, a certain imitation or resemblance of Sheridan's is sufficiently obvious in the pages of his biographer; not, however, in exact conformity with the suggestion of Longinus, which had reference to the beauties, not to the defects, of the model. Mr Moore censures, and not without justice, that profusion of conceits, tropes, figures, and metaphorical illustrations which the redundancy of Sheridan's wit was always pouring forth, with too frequent disregard of strict propriety and good taste.

Strange to say, however, he mistakes the faults he reprehends, and, though less copious in their use, is more extravagant in their application. Most of Sheridan's figurative embellishments were viva voce effusions, and however unable to sustain the critical judgment of a cool reader, powerfully impressive on the admiring listeners. But what does his biographer? In a grave, critical composition, issuing from the calm recesses of the study, he has, in spite of the "nunc non erat hic locus" of Horace, given us frequent patches of the purple vestment, -"purpureus latè qui splendeat unus

et alter assuitur pannus." One of peculiar eccentricity now meets my eye, while reading an account of Sheridan's anxiety to secure the success of the Duenna. Linley's great judgment in arranging and directing the musical department, he justly conceived to be of most material import, the more especially 28 the Covent Garden Theatre did not appear to be well provided with instrumental performers. "As to the state of the music, (thus he writes to his father-in-law), I want but three airs, but there are some glees and quartets in the last act, which will be inevitably ruined, if we have no one at least to set the performers in the right way." Of Leoni, he says, in another letter, "he sings nothing well but in a plaintive and pastoral style, and his voice is such as appears to me to be always hurt by much accompaniment." What he means by setting the performers in the right way, he explains in another place, by observing, that for want of a Mas ter, (a director like Linley), "everybody sings there according to their own ideas, or what chance instruction they can come at." On these observations his biographer thus comments: "In the instructions thus given by the poet to the musician," (in fact it was the poet who wanted the musician's instructions), แ we may perceive that he somewhat apprehended, even in the tasteful hands of Linley, that pre dominance of harmony over melody, and of noise over both, which is so fatal to poetry and song, in their perilous alliance with an orchestra." I am inclined to believe, that, however perilous the alliance between vocal and instrumental music in a concert or theatre may be, the situation of the former would be much more perilous without it, and that Sheridan was as far from apprehending "the predominance of harmony over melody," (matters quite distinct), "and of noise over both, from the tasteful hands of Mr. Linley," as he would, were he now alive, be of forming a guess by what metaphor this terrible predominance would be illustrated. "Indeed," says this able biographer, "indeed, those Elephants of old that used to tread down the ranks they were brought to assist, were but a type of the havoc that is sometimes made both of melody and meaning, by the overlaying aid of accompaniments"!!!

A quintetto of singers trampled down and overlaid by an orchestra of elephants! What a happy simile would it have been for the ingenious authors of Chrononhotonthologos, or Tom Thumb-see what it is to have written oriental epics, and become acquainted with elephantic types. One thing at least is made very clear by this hypercritical illustration, viz. that it is no difficult matter to make a havoc of meaning.

Another extraordinary instance (and of oriental origin also) of what is intended for superfine illustration, occurs in that part which treats of Sheridan's intercourse with his present Majesty, then Prince of Wales. As certain venomous creatures are reported to carry with them antidotes for their own stings, so it may be said of this and other productions of the same school, that they contain within themselves a refutation of their own slander. I am clearly of opinion, that any intelligent reader, previously unacquainted with the subjects of this piece of biography, would even, from its own relation of facts, be induced to regard the Prince of Wales as the sincerest, most generous, and most constant of all the friends with whom Sheridan's (probably unfortunate) introduction to a higher sphere had made him acquainted. Yet, either from some unaccountable obliquity of intellect, some blind and bigotted attachment to the debasing level of vulgar democracy, or some mortifying repulse, which the insolent obtrusiveness of plebeian vanity might have brought upon itself, we are presented with the following figurative elucidation of the baneful effects of royal friendship :—

"So fatal too often are royal friendships-whose attraction, like the loadstone rock in Eastern fable, that drew the nails out of the luckless ships 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 !"

Of this precious simile, calculated to dazzle Cockneys, and delight Radicals, it is hardly necessary to point out the inappropriateness and the malice. The act of stealing gradually away," is as unfitly typified by an operation of great and almost momentary violence, as the beneficence of Sheridan's royal patron and truest friend is represented to be the cause of his ec

centricities, his extravagance, and his ruin! From Sheridan's misfortune, admitting the possibility of the assigned reason, Tommy Moore enjoys a fortunate exemption. His cockboat is proof against the Loadstone of Loyalty. The rock which can both draw and sharpen his spikes belongs to a very different class, and of the metallic qualities mixed up in his character, unless perhaps we except brass, iron will be among the most permanent ingredients.

For every extravagance of Sheridan's, his biographer can find some excuse,-for every fault some palliation,-against all accusations he can offer some defence, save only the crime of faithful attachment to the person and interests of his royal master! And what is the offence so heinously and unpardonably committed? Alas, it is not that the fidelity of the subject amounted to slavery to the prince, for this Sheridan's own manly letters openly and honourably disclaim;-No,— the unforgivable crime is, that he was too faithfully loyal to see that prince degraded into the slave of a party, whose insatiable thirst for power would allow no equal even in their king, and who would accept the reins of government on no other condition than that of unlimited concession on the part of royalty, and of rendering himself a cypher even in his own household! If any blame is imputable to that royal personage, it is that of too much condescension. He was willing to consent to any terms. But from this humiliation he was saved by the dignified firmness of a few friends, and the subsequent convictions of his own intellectual reflection. This is the real state of the case, and so notorious at the time, a time strongly imprinted on my own recollection, that it needed little acquaintance or intimacy with courts or statesmen to ascertain its truth. I do not say that Mr Percival would never have been prime minister, because I think his integrity and his talents might have ultimately reached that station; but I do say that he would not have come in as he did, had those who called themselves the Prince's early friends behaved with common gratitude, decorum, propriety, and respect.

On the life of this extraordinary man, my own countryman and contemporary, for we were born within the same year, I am, as a reminiscent,

tempted to offer some further remarks, for though not acquainted with him, I was well acquainted with the times and the scenes in which he performed so conspicuous a part. Mr Moore's book is, upon the whole, agreeably written, interesting, and minute in detail, sometimes, perhaps, a little too much so. I think there has been rather too copious an exposition of his loose papers and fragments; and am inclined to think, that among those withheld, some more worth producing than what he has given might easily be found.Had I been among the friends who committed those papers to a biographer, I should certainly have refused to acquiesce in so full and indiscriminate a publication. The fac-simile of his hand-writing is particularly reprehensible, intending, as it should seem, to show us, not how he could write, but how he could scribble. It is so common for writers of verse to scratch out their first thoughts with a careless and rapid pen, and afterwards to correct and refine, that his doing so could be nothing new. Of this, therefore, a small specimen would have sufficed, and he should not have given a facsimile of his worst penmanship, without adding one of his more correct.

One circumstance relating to his early years seems hard to be reconciled with credibility. We are told by his biographer, that at eight years old he was pronounced, "by the common consent both of parent and preceptor, a most impenetrable dunce." These peremptory pronouncers of dulness being moreover highly distinguished for philological taste and knowledge! After this follows a curious passage. Two or three years afterwards Richard is sent to Harrow School, Charles being kept at home as a fitter subject for the instructions of his father, who, by another of those calculations of poor human foresight which the Deity called Eventus by the Romans" (qu. Roman Catholics, for the Roman Deity was called Fortuna,) "takes such wanton pleasure in falsifying, considered his elder brother as destined to be the brighter of the two brother stars," (he might have called them, hibernice, twins, the idea being suggested by Castor and Pollux.) Now, to a common understanding, an opposite conclusion would, I think, have presented itself. For surely a lad sent to a school so celebrated as

Harrow, would seem more likely to be put in the way of future fame and splendour, than he who was kept at home to learn English grammar and play-acting under the auspices of old Tom Sheridan. But how can we account for the different sentences pronounced upon him in Ireland and England, and that within the course of three years? In one he was an "impenetrable dunce," and in the other a boy of most winning disposition and great talents, but great idleness, and this too in the opinion of two of the best judges in Great Britain, Dr Parr and Dr Sumner; an opinion which the aforesaid Deity Eventus, contrary to custom, so amply justified. English air have wrought so wonderful a change? I know indeed that it encourages and rewards Irish talent, but I did not before hear that it was necessary to produce it. The biographer seems to have been too hasty in charging Messrs Whyte and Sheridan with passing a sentence which certainly could prove nothing but their own precipitancy of judgment or total want of penetration. His conversation even then could not have been that of a dunce, and that intelligence of eye which he possessed in so eminent a degree was alone sufficient to tell them that he was only an idler.

Could

The nature of Sheridan's genius is by no means singular. Few persons who have been at schools and colleges, or much conversant with literary history, will fail to have found many parallels. Swift was undistinguished in his early days, and what was considered as dulness, arose probably from his dislike of the studies prescribed, and his contempt of those who prescribed them. Of Curran I can from my own knowledge say the same. He made no figure in college, and was much more inclined to ridicule than to respect the grave and learned sages under whose instruction he was placed. They saw little in the great future advocate but pertness and contumacy; but it was impossible to hold a free and familiar conversation with him for half an hour without being struck by the vivacity of his mind, and the power of his expression. Universities teach deep and various knowledge, they afford excellent ground for the exercise of wit and imagination, but they do not confer either. Hence it sometimes happens that those by whom these quali