The following Lent, Miss Linley appeared in the oratorios at Covent Garden; and Sheridan, who, from the nearness of his retreat to London, (to use a phrase of his own, repeated in one of his friend's letters), "trod upon the heels of perilous probabilities," though prevented by the vigilance of her father from a private interview, had frequent opportunities of seeing her in public. Among many other stratagems which he contrived, for the purpose of exchanging a few words with her, he more than once disguised himself as a hackney-coachman, and drove her home from the theatre.

It appears, however, that a serious misunderstanding at this time occurred between them,--originating probably in some of those paroxysms of jealousy, into which a lover like Sheridan must have been continually thrown, by the numerous admirers and pursuers of all kinds, which the beauty and celebrity of his mistress attracted. Among various alliances invented for her by the public at this period, it was rumored that she was about to be married to Sir Thomas Clarges; and in the Bath Chronicle of April, 1773, a correspondence is given as authentic between her and "Lord Grosvenor," which, though pretty evidently a fabrication, yet proves the high opinion entertained of the purity of her character. The correspondence is thus introduced, in a letter to the editor:--"The following letters are confidently said to have pa.s.sed between Lord G---r and the celebrated English syren, Miss L--y. I send them to you for publication, not with any view to increase the volume of literary scandal, which, I am sorry to say, at present needs no a.s.sistance, but with the most laudable intent of setting an example for our modern belles, by holding out the character of a young woman, who, notwithstanding the solicitations of her profession, and the flattering example of higher ranks, has added _incorruptible virtue_ to a number of the most elegant qualifications."

Whatever may have caused the misunderstanding between her and her lover, a reconcilement was with no great difficulty effected, by the mediation of Sheridan's young friend, Mr. Ewart; and, at length, after a series of stratagems and scenes, which convinced Mr. Linley that it was impossible much longer to keep them asunder, he consented to their union, and on the 13th of April, 1773, they were married by license [Footnote: Thus announced in the Gentleman's Magazine:--"Mr. Sheridan of the Temple to the celebrated Miss Linley of Bath."]--Mr. Ewart being at the same time wedded to a young lady with whom he also had eloped clandestinely to France, but was now enabled, by the forgiveness of his father, to complete this double triumph of friendship and love.

A curious instance of the indolence and procrastinating habits of Sheridan used to be related by Woodfall, as having occurred about this time. A statement of his conduct in the duels having appeared in one of the Bath papers, so false and calumnious as to require an immediate answer, he called upon Woodfall to request that his paper might be the medium of it. But wishing, as he said, that the public should have the whole matter fairly before them, he thought it right that the offensive statement should first be inserted, and in a day or two after be followed by his answer, which would thus come with more relevancy and effect. In compliance with his wish, Woodfall lost not a moment in transcribing the calumnious article into his columns--not doubting, of course, that the refutation of it would be furnished with still greater eagerness. Day after day, however, elapsed, and, notwithstanding frequent applications on the one side, and promises on the other, not a line of the answer was ever sent by Sheridan,--who, having expended all his activity in a.s.sisting the circulation of the poison, had not industry enough left to supply the antidote. Throughout his whole life, indeed, he but too consistently acted upon the principles, which the first Lord Holland used playfully to impress upon his son:--"Never do to-day what you can possibly put off till to-morrow, nor ever do, yourself, what you can get any one else to do for you."

CHAPTER III

DOMESTIC CIRc.u.mSTANCES.--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 circ.u.mstances admit of any such patient speculation. A part of the sum which Mr. Long had settled upon Miss Linley, and occasional a.s.sistance 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 princ.i.p.al 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 a.s.sured 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 a.s.sure 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 pa.s.s 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 pa.s.sed 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 a.s.sure 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, a.s.sure 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 n.o.bleman 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 ent.i.tle 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 n.o.ble 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 compa.s.sion, on this occasion, be led to show more indulgence to any future offender in the same circ.u.mstances." 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 mult.i.tude 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 ma.n.u.scripts 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 Inst.i.tution, for the instruction and maintenance of young females in the better cla.s.ses 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 ent.i.tled "The Royal Sanctuary."