The violent conduct of the people had now given to the administration the pretence which they had so long wanted. They could no longer be told that disaffection existed in their own imaginations, that the plots were of their own begetting, that their spies and their informers had concocted the tales which alarmed the timid, and imposed upon the credulous. "The King of England had," said they, " encountered a reception, such as the regicides of Paris had given to their king." The Lords and the Commons addressed the king after evidence had been taken of the outrage of the day. A Bill was brought into the House of Commons for securing the king's person and government against treasonable and seditious practices, and several days were occupied in its consideration. Sheridan took a prominent part in the discussion, and his speeches were full of vigour, thought, and wit. During one of the debates he related a curious anecdote respecting himself, in consequence of some observations of Mr. Hardinge on the licence of the stage; showing that the restrictions were in principle moral, and not political. "The origin of the licence was in order to repress indecencies and abuses, such as a man must want common decorum to introduce. As a proof that the licence was sometimes abused, on the night before the first appearance of the "School for Scandal," he was informed that it could not be performed, as a licence was refused. It happened at this time there was the famous city contest between Wilkes and Hopkins; the latter had been charged with some practices, similar to those of Moses the Jew, in lending money to young men under age, and it was supposed that the character of the play was levelled at him, in order to injure him in his contest, in which he was supported by the ministerial interest. In the warmth of a contested election the piece was represented as a factious and seditious opposition to a court candidate. Sheridan, however, went to Lord Hertford, then Lord Chamberlain, who laughed at the affair, and gave the licence. For his own part he deemed a theatre no fit place for politics; nor would he think much of the principles or taste of the man who should wish to introduce them into stage representation." On the 23rd of November, Mr. Stuart brought up a petition against the Bill from the London Corresponding Society. He produced a work, attributed to Mr. Reeves, the framer and president of several associations

against republicans and levellers, in which a doctrine was asserted "that the government of England was a monarchy; but the monarch was the ancient stock, from which have sprung those goodly branches of the legislature--the Lords and Commons; that these, however, were still only branches, and that they might be lopped off, and the tree be a tree still, shorn, indeed, of its honours, but not, like them, cast into the fire." The pamphlet was read. Sheridan moved "that the said pamphlet is a malicious, scandalous, and seditious libel, containing matter tending to create jealousies and divisions amongst his Majesty's subjects; to alienate the affection from our present form of government, and subvert the true princi ples of our free constitution, and that the said pamphlet is a high breach of the privileges of this House." He made several speeches, and concluded by moving, "that the books be burnt by the common hangman." This punishment was all he proposed; he peremptorily objected to a prosecution. Ministers, however, preferred a trial, as they thought some of its odium would naturally fall on the Whigs, and they did not object to their willingness to increase the list of libellers. Sheridan said that he never recommended prosecutions for libels, because ministers had taken such matters into their own hands; he read a list of fifty or sixty persons who in the last three years had been prosecuted. He knew, that if Mr. Reeves were found guilty, he would be called a convicted innocent, as others had been called acquitted felons. The trial, however, was resolved on; Sheridan having been induced no longer to oppose it, of course an acquittal took place, in a case where neither party took any interest in the trial.

The incidents attendant upon Sheridan's first marriage excited some surprise, and if those which marked the second hymen are not altogether as wondrous, they are sufficient to show that he had not forgotten his powers over the female heart, and that, when he chose, he could successfully exert it. He was at the mature age of forty-four, when the charms of Miss Esther Jane Ogle, daughter of the Dean of Winchester, and grand-daughter of the former Bishop of Winchester, by the mother's side, appeared so irresistible, that he was determined, in spite of any obstacle, to become her affianced husband. The first interview of the two personages was any thing but flattering to the vanity of Sheridan, and leads us to

form an inference that nothing but his determination to con quer, and his firm reliance upon his own resolves, would have ultimately led to a consummation of his hopes. At a fête given at Devonshire House sat Miss Ogle, where Sheridan for the first time saw her; he was walking before her; he heard her exclamation, "fright! terrible creature!" and other names of similar unmistakable import, applied to himself; for this elegant young lady it seems, with bewitching frankness, was in the habit of openly giving epithets which she thought appropriate to men and things. Sheridan's countenance had, at this period of his life, lost much of the manly beauty it might once have had; little remained but the brilliancy of his eye; intemperance had stamped her marks upon his features in legible characters; the purple cheek, the fiery nose, its common offsprings, were too strongly developed not to be discerned by the quick glance of woman; indeed they had already begun to be subjects of public comment, and served for the merriment of a hustings mob, where allusions often, in his latter day more especially, were made to his being able to light a fire by the glare of his nose. Whether Sheridan felt that the young lady's reproach might be true or not, he was at any rate determined that, notwithstanding the visible defects of his outward form, he would, by the fascinations of his mind, efface the first impression; certain it is that he exerted himself to please, and succeeded. Even his first advances produced some slight civility, the next meeting a little attention, another, a declaration from her that, although he was a monster, he was very clever; she subsequently found that though he was very ugly, he was very agreeable. Gradually there was a little emotion experienced at his presence, at length her heart was irresistibly attracted, and then altogether lost. He was, indeed, the only man with whom she could live: mutual vows of love and fidelity were exchanged. The dean, her father, was consulted; any hint from him at the disparity of their years was unheeded; he in vain hesitated-they urged. He learnt enough of the private affairs of Sheridan to convince him that it would be what the world terms a bad match; he thought that he had found out a decent excuse to prevent the ill-assorted marriage, which was, to say that he would not give his consent to his daughter's union with any man who could not put down fifteen thousand pounds in addition to five which he

himself would give for a settlement upon his daughter; this he flattered himself would bring the affair to a conclusion, for where Sheridan was to find such a sum no ordinary mind could have imagined. But such were the admirable financial contrivances of his future son-in-law, that the dean found the money safely lodged in the banker's hands, to his own confusion, and the astonishment even of the most enthusiastic admirer of the skill of Sheridan. There was no deceit about it, shares were sold in Drury Lane Theatre, an estate called Polesden, at Leatherhead in Surrey, was purchased; it was carefully settled upon Mrs. Sheridan and her children; the trustees to this settlement being the late Lord Grey and Mr. Whitbread. The young lady, charming and desperately in love, was quickly united to the man of her choice, and they went to Southampton to enjoy the honeymoon, enraptured in each other's society-such was the progress of the love-match.

Sheridan of course reflected that he must take an early opportunity of imparting the information of his intended marriage to his son Tom, who was at that moment supposed to be deeply immersed in study, under the care of his tutor, Mr. Smyth, at Bognor, where they had been staying for two or three months without having received the slightest communication; the long silence was at length interrupted by the arrival of a letter, whilst they were at the breakfast table.

"My dear Tom,-Meet me at dinner, at six o'clock on Wednesday next, at Guildford; I forget the inn; I want to see you. Ever your affectionate father, R. B. S."

This note startled Tom, who marvelled what his father could have to say; a discussion sprung up between pupil and tutor as to the possible cause of this sudden invitation ;—was it to propose a seat in Parliament? could it be to point out a good marriage? was it anything to do with Drury Lane Theatre? Sundry conjectures occupied their minds until the eventful Wednesday arrived, when, followed by his groom, off rode Tom. Mr. Smyth was left alone to ruminate until his pupil's return, which he naturally must have expected on the following day; but the Thursday rolled on without his appearance; Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, not a line from either father or son. At length, on Monday, came a letter to this effect :

"My dear Mr. Smyth, -Here I am, have been, and am

likely to be; my father I have never seen, and all that I can hear of him is, that instead of dining with me on Wednesday last, he passed through Guildford on his way to town, with four horses and lamps, about 12. I have written to him letter

after letter to beg he will send me his orders, and at all events some money, for I have only a few shillings, having paid the turnpikes faithfully, and I am so bored and wearied out with waiting here, and seeing neither father nor money, nor any thing but the stable and the street, that I almost begin to wish myself with you and the books again.

"Your dutiful pupil,

T. S."

It must at any rate have been some relief to Mr. Smyth's mind to have read a note acknowledging his pupil's whereabout; but what must have been the state of nervous anxiety in which he was kept for the next ten or twelve weeks, during which he had to pace the beach at Bognor, hoping that every succeeding day might bring with it some solution to this strange enigma? At length came a frank from Sheridan, inclosing an epistle from Tom, which, in some measure, threw a light upon the mysterious occurrences which had naturally excited such singular conduct, both from father and son. He learned from it the step, which he characterizes as one of extreme folly and vanity on both sides, which Sheridan and Miss Ogle were about to take. He could find some excuse for the lady, who was doubtless dazzled by the reputation and fascinated by the conversation of the man, but none for one who had arrived at a period of life when prudence, if he ever possessed any, was called for, and the exertion of his intellects for more useful purposes in life. The answer was to this effect :— "My dear Mr. Smyth,—It is not I that am to be married, nor you. Set your heart at rest, it is my father himself; the lady, a Miss Ogle, who lives at Winchester; and that is the history of the Guildford business. About my own age-better me to marry her, you will say. I am not of that opinion. My father talked to me two hours last night, and made out to me that it was the most sensible thing he could do. Was not this very clever of him? Well, my dear Mr. S———, you should have been tutor to him, you see. I am incomparably the most rational of the two, and now and ever

"Yours very truly and affectionately, T. S."