DOMESTIC CIRCUMSTANCES.--FRAGMENTS OF ESSAYS FOUND AMONG HIS PAPERS.--
COMEDY OF "THE RIVALS."--ANSWER TO "TAXATION NO TYRANNY."--FARCE OF "ST.
PATRICK'S DAY."
A few weeks previous to his marriage, Sheridan, had been entered 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 speculation. 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own having withdrawn all countenance from him), were now the only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 reappear in public; and, instead of
profiting by the display of his wife's talents, adopted the manlier
resolution of seeking an independence by his own. An engagement had been
made for her some months before by her father, to perform at the music-
meeting that was to take place at Worcester this summer. But Sheridan,
who considered that his own claims upon her had superseded all others,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 after his marriage,
and containing some other interesting particulars, that show the
temptations with which his pride had, at this time, to struggle:--
"East Burnham, May 12, 1773.
"Dear Sir,
"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 with
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 a
_friendly_ bill, it is pretty decent.--Yours of the 3d instant did
not reach me till yesterday, by reason of its missing 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 persuade him that he acts
_dishonorably_ in preventing her from fulfilling 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 the 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
natural 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 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 occasion 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 _claim
it_--particularly, 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 that I speak with regard to my father.
Betsey informs me you have written to him again--have you heard from
him?....
"I 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 respect 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 immediately on their
marriage, and to which they often looked back with a sigh in after-
times, when they were more prosperous, but less happy. It was during a
very short absence from this cottage, that the following lines were
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!
[Footnote: It will be perceived that the eight following lines are the
foundation of the song "What bard, oh Time," in the Duenna.]
It was some thoughtless lover's rhyme,
Who, writing in his Chloe's view,
Paid her the compliment through 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 'tis the temper of the mind,
Where we thy regulator find.
Still o'er the gay and o'er the young
unfelt steps you flit along,--
As Virgil's nymph o'er ripen'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!
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 I'm 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 when 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;
But oh, the miser's real pleasure
Is 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 themselves; 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. Canning's and Lord Coventry's; but, so little did these
visits interfere with the literary industry of Sheridan, that, as
appears from 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 hook to the press:"--
"Dear Sir,
"Nov. 17th 1774.
"If I were to attempt to make as many apologies as my long omission in
writing to you requires, I should have no room for any other subject.
One excuse only I shall bring forward, which 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 encountered another disappointment, and consequent indisposition....
However, 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 would 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 a _Comedy_ 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 last six weeks, been very idle. I have done it at Mr. Harris's
(the manager's) own request; it is now complete in his 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 hundred 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 continuance
of his favor, he was desired by his Majesty to make me an offer of Mr.
Smith's situation and partnership 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 very little:--if he does, and you 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
arrangement. 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. Accept Betsey's love and duty.
"Your sincere and affectionate
"R. B. SHERIDAN."
What the book here alluded to was, I cannot with any accuracy 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 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 designed 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 ---- might
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. If, indeed, his ----'s
crimes were of such a nature, as to entitle his head to a place on
Temple-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, might, after being witnesses to
the miserable fate that had overtaken him, begin in their hearts to pity
him; and from the fickleness so common to human nature, perhaps, by way
of compensation, acquit 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 affecting to defend the Duke against the charge of fickleness and
unpunctuality, he says, "I think I could bring several instances 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 [Footnote: Wilkes.] 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), addressed to
"Novus,"--some writer in Woodfall's Public Advertiser,--and appearing to
be one of a series to the same correspondent. From the few political
allusions introduced in this letter, (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 beginning 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 letter-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 correspondent:--"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 elaborately wrong,--will not suffer me to attribute such
numerous errors to any thing but real ignorance, joined with most
consummate vanity." The following is a specimen of his acuteness in
criticising the absurd style of his adversary:--"You leave it rather
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 man's _nature_? A man's natural
disposition may urge him to the commission of some actions;--Nature may
instigate and encourage, but I believe 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 line,
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 _m's_ and
_s's_ almost invariably reduced to "single blessedness." This sign
of a neglected education remained 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 difficult 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 beyond the middle of the first
number. But one of the most curious of these youthful productions is a
Letter to the Queen, recommending the establishment of an Institution,
for the instruction 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 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 eloquence with
which he prefaces this grave proposal to Her Majesty:--"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 jurisdiction. With them the enthusiasm of poetry and the
idolatry of love is the simple voice of nature." There are, indeed, many
passages of this boyish composition, a good deal resembling in their
style those ambitious apostrophes with which he afterwards ornamented
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 metaphor, 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 gently 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 beauties 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 nature writes on the heart of man;--what
_she_ delineates on the original 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 warfare with
poverty and distress. The sea of adversity is our natural element, and
he that will not buffet with the billows deserves 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?"
After describing, with evident seriousness, the nature of the
institution of Madame de Maintenon, at St. Cyr, he adds the following
strange romantic allusion: "Had such a charity as I have been speaking
of existed here, the mild _Parthenia_ 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;
whose care it shall be to provide instructors of real merit. The classes
are to be distinguished by age--none by degree. For, as their
qualification 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 astronomy, &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 infinitely 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 depraved and corrupted society; the other is
the glow of nature. I would therefore exclude all novels that show human
nature depraved:--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 inscription 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 himself of it. As the few pages which I have found,
and which contain 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.
Emulation not to be encouraged even in virtue. True virtue will, like
the Athenian, 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 Roman'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 the pleasure his success
would give his father, most glorious;--an emulation 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 in Ossian; 'Oh, that the name of Morni,' &c. &c. [Footnote: "Oh,
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, in like manner, he would ask no greater
distinction than for men to point at him and say, "There goes the father
of Tom Sheridan."]
"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 confidence in
his own powers. His subsequent success bore him out in the opinions he
thus early expressed, and might even have persuaded 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 O'Trigger _Mr. Lee_.
Fag _Mr. Lee Lewes_.
David _Mr. Dunstal_.
Coachman _Mr. Fearon_.
Mrs. Malaprop _Mrs. Green_.
Lydia Languish _Miss Barsanti_.
Julia _Mrs. Bulkley_.
Lucy _Mrs. Lessingham_.
This comedy, as is well known, failed on its first representation,--
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. Sheridan, 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.
"Bath.
"MY DEAREST ELIZA,
"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 called "The Rivals;"
but I do not give any credit to this intelligence....
"I am told he will get at least 700_l_. for his play."
"Bath, January, 1775.
"It is impossible to tell you what pleasure we felt at the receipt 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 certainly 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 _composing_;--it's true, indeed;--you must not contradict me
when I say you wrote the much admired epilogue to the Rivals. How I long
to read it! What makes it more certain is, that my _father_ guessed
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 appears, 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 naturally be
expected; but really it goes so far beyond any thing 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 expect to have it _here_ very soon:--it is
now in rehearsal. You pretty well know the merits of our principal
performers:--I'll 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. Keasberry_.
Fag _Mr. Brunsdon_.
Mrs. Malaprop _Mrs. Wheeler_.
Miss Lydia _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
convinced it won't be done better any where out of London. I don't think
Mrs. Mattocks can do Julia very well."
"Bath, March 9, 1775.
"You will know by what you see enclosed in this frank my reason for not
answering your letter sooner was, 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 was 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 was a
very full house:--the play was performed 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 with 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 think 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 was 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 exhibits perhaps more humor
than The School for Scandal, and the dialogue, though by 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 persons
with whims and absurdities, for which the circumstances they are engaged
in afford but a very disproportionate vent. Accordingly, 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 with which her amour concludes. Among the various 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 wayward, captious jealousy of Falkland, though so highly
colored in his own representation 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 surprise at the apathy with which
his son receives the glowing picture which he draws 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
farcical, they are almost all amusing,--and the luckiness of her simile,
"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 composition.
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 dialogue 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.
"_Abs._ Ay, 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 regret
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 will 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 exquisite 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.
A copy of The Rivals has fallen into my hands, which once belonged to
Tickell, 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. [Footnote: These opinions are generally expressed
in two or three words, and are, for the most part, judicious. Upon Mrs.
Malaprop's quotation from Shakspeare, "Hesperian curls," &c. he writes,
"overdone--fitter for farce than comedy." 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 or not, who wants
resolution to act according to it."] 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 the two Whig ministries, could not
have been written before the year 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 sufficient 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 entirely 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 compunction--but there was a time, when the importunity of
parents, and the example of a few injudicious young men of my
acquaintance, had almost prevailed on me to thwart my genius, and
prostitute 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 wealthy merchant or an eminent lawyer at this very
moment. Nor was it only on my first setting out in life that I availed
myself of a connection with you, 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,
naturally enough, unwilling to appear in. Amongst innumerable other
instances, I cannot omit two, where you afforded me considerable and
unexpected relief, and in fact converted employments, usually attended
by dry and disgusting business, into scenes of perpetual 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 preference 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
suspected 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 persons 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 abroad. Though little able to cope with
the entertainments of their wealthy acquaintance, her music and the good
company which his talents drew around him, were an ample repayment for
the more solid hospitalities which they received. Among the families
visited by them was that of Mr. Coote (Purden), at whose musical parties
Mrs. Sheridan frequently sung, accompanied occasionally by the two
little daughters [Footnote: The charm of her singing, as well as her
fondness for children, are interestingly described in a letter to my
friend Mr. Rogers, 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 such a
sweetness of look and voice, as was quite enchanting."] 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 wife were at that time
considered. Her Grace was reminded 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," which was 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:--
"Psha, you know, Mamma, I hate militia officers; a set of dunghill cocks
with spurs on--heroes scratched 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 the very opening:--
"_1st Soldier._ I say you are wrong; we should all speak together,
each for himself, and all at once, that we may be heard the better.
"_2d Soldier._ Right, Jack, we'll _argue in platoons_."
Notwithstanding the great success of his first attempts in the drama, we
find politics this year renewing its claims upon his attention, and
tempting him to enter into the lists with no less an antagonist than Dr.
Johnson. That eminent man had just published his pamphlet on the
American question, entitled "Taxation no Tyranny;"--a work whose pompous
sarcasms on the Congress of Philadelphia, when compared with what has
happened since, dwindle into puerilities, and show what straws upon the
great tide of events are even the mightiest intellects of this world.
Some notes and fragments, found among the papers of Mr. Sheridan, prove
that he had it in contemplation to answer this pamphlet; and, however
inferior he might have been in style to his practised adversary, he
would at least have had the advantage of a good cause, and of those
durable materials of truth and justice, which outlive the mere
workmanship, however splendid, of talent. Such arguments as the
following, which Johnson did not scruple to use, are, by the haughtiness
of their tone and thought, only fit for the lips of autocrats:--
"When they apply to our compassion, by telling us that they are to be
carried from their own country to be tried for certain offences, we are
not so ready to pity them, as to advise them not to offend. While they
are innocent, they are safe.
"If they are condemned unheard, it is because there is no need of a
trial. The crime is manifest and notorious," &c. &c.
It appears from the fragments of the projected answer, that Johnson's
pension was one of the points upon which Mr. Sheridan intended to assail
him. The prospect of being able to neutralize the effects of his zeal,
by exposing the nature of the chief incentive from which it sprung, was
so tempting, perhaps, as to overrule any feelings of delicacy, that
might otherwise have suggested the illiberality of such an attack. The
following are a few of the stray hints for this part of his subject:--
"It is hard when a learned man thinks himself obliged to commence
politician.--Such pamphlets will be as trifling and insincere as the
venal quit-rent of a birth-day ode. [Footnote: On another scrap of paper
I find "the miserable quit-rent of an annual pamphlet." It was his
custom in composition (as will be seen by many other instances) thus to
try the same thought in a variety of forms and combinations, in order to
see in which it would yield the greatest produce of wit.]
"Dr. J.'s other works, his learning and infirmities, fully entitled him
to such a mark of distinction.--There was no call on him to become
politician,--the easy quit-rent of refined panegyric, and a few grateful
rhymes or flowery dedications to the intermediate benefactor....
"The man of letters is rarely drawn from obscurity by the inquisitive
eye of a sovereign:--it is enough for Royalty to gild the laurelled
brow, not explore the garret or the cellar.--In this case, the return
will generally be ungrateful--the patron is most possibly disgraced or
in opposition--if he (the author) follows the dictates of gratitude, he
must speak his patron's language, but he may lose his pension--but to be
a standing supporter of ministry, is probably to take advantage of that
competence against his benefactor.--When it happens that there is great
experience and political knowledge, this is more excusable; but it is
truly unfortunate where the fame of far different abilities adds weight
to the attempts of rashness...."
He then adds this very striking remark: "Men seldom think deeply on
subjects on which they have no choice of opinion:--they are fearful of
encountering obstacles to their faith (as in religion), and so are
content with the surface."
Dr. Johnson says, in one part of his pamphlet,--"As all are born the
subjects of some state or other, we may be said to have been all born
consenting to some system of government." On this Sheridan remarks:--
"This is the most slavish doctrine that ever was inculcated. If by our
birth we give a tacit bond for our acquiescence in that form of
government under which we were born, there never would have been an
alteration of the first modes of government--no Revolution in England."
Upon the argument derived from the right of conquest he observes--"This
is the worst doctrine that can be with respect to America.--If America
is ours by conquest, it is the conquerors who settled there that are to
claim these powers."
He expresses strong indignation at the "arrogance" with which such a man
as Montesquieu is described as "the fanciful Montesquieu," by "an
eleemosynary politician, who writes on the subject merely because he has
been rewarded for writing otherwise all his lifetime."
In answer to the argument against the claims of the Americans, founded
on the small proportion of the population that is really represented
even in England, he has the following desultory memorandums:--"In fact,
every man in England is represented--every man can influence people,
so as to get a vote, and even if in an election votes are divided, each
candidate is supposed equally worthy--as in lots--fight Ajax or
Agamemnon. [Footnote: He means to compare an election of this sort to
the casting of lots between the Grecian chiefs in the 7th book of the
Iliad.]--This an American cannot do in any way whatever.
"The votes in England are perpetually shifting:--were it an object, few
could be excluded.--Wherever there is any one ambitious of assisting the
empire, he need not put himself to much inconvenience.--If the Doctor
indulged his studies in Cricklade or Old Sarum, he might vote:--the
dressing meat, the simplest proof of existence, begets a title.--His
pamphlet shows that he thinks he can influence some one: not an
anonymous writer in the paper but contributes his mite to the general
tenor of opinion.--At the eve of an election, his Patriot [Footnote: The
name of a short pamphlet, published by Dr. Johnson, on the dissolution
of Parliament in 1774.] was meant to influence more than the single
voice of a rustic.--Even the mob, in shouting, give votes where there is
not corruption."
It is not to be regretted that this pamphlet was left unfinished. Men of
a high order of genius, such as Johnson and Sheridan, should never enter
into warfare with each other, but, like the gods in Homer, leave the
strife to inferior spirits. The publication of this pamphlet would most
probably have precluded its author from the distinction and pleasure
which he afterwards enjoyed in the society and conversation of the
eloquent moralist, who, in the following year, proposed him as a member
of the Literary Club, and always spoke of his character and genius with
praise. Nor was Sheridan wanting on his part with corresponding
tributes; for, in a prologue which he wrote about this time to the play
of Sir Thomas Overbury, he thus alludes to Johnson's Life of its
unfortunate author:--
"So pleads the tale, that gives to future times
The son's misfortunes, and the parent's crimes;
There shall his fame, if own'd to-night, survive;
Fix'd by the hand that bids our language live."