dan, ought not, after all, to be very severely criticised." This is a generous as well as ingenious apology for the errors of the man; but it will not satisfy every one. His literary merits, however, are much less questionable. He stands at the head of the genteel comedy of England; "and while truth of character and manners,-chastised brilliancy of wit,-humour devoid of the least stain of coarseness,-exquisite knowledge of stage-effect,-and consummate ease and elegance of idiomatic language are appreciated, there can be no doubt that the name of Sheridan will maintain its place." In early life Sheridan was generally accounted handsome; he was rather above the middle size, and well-proportioned. His eyes were black, brilliant, and particularly expressive: Sir Joshua Reynolds, who painted his portrait, is said to have affirmed, that their pupils were larger than those of any human being he had ever met with. They retained their beauty to the last; but the lower part of his face exhibited, in his latter years, the usual effects of intemperance. His arms were strong, and his hands small and delicate. On a cast of one of them, the following couplet is stated to have been written: "Good at a fight, but better at a play; Godlike in giving; but the devil to pay!" Port was his favourite wine; it quickened, he said, the circulation and the fancy together; and he affirmed he seldom spoke to his own satisfaction until after he had taken a couple of bottles of this wine. Watkins relates, that, one evening, a person in the Exchequer coffee-house observed a gentleman who had a number of papers before him, after taking tea, empty a decanter of brandy into a large glass, and swallow the contents at a draught. He then gathered up his papers and hurried away. The spectator soon afterwards went into the gallery of the house of commons, where, to his amazement, he heard the brandy-drinker,-who was Sheridan, deliver a long and remarkably brilliant oration. He also needed the excitement of wine when engaged in composition. "If an idea be reluctant," he would sometimes say, "a glass of port ripens it, and it bursts forth; if it come freely, a glass of port is a glorious reward for it." He usually wrote at night, with several candles burning around him. He was careless, almost beyond credence, with regard to his private affairs. He would frequently set out on a journey without possessing the means to complete it, and remain midway and money-bound,' to use his own phrase, at an inn, until he could procure a remittance. When he was not in immediate want of cash, he would throw aside notes containing money, without even breaking their seals. Unopened letters, inclosing checques, were repeatedly found on his table by the treasurer of the theatre, by whom they had been long before remitted to Sheridan, at his own urgent entreaty. To account for this, it is supposed that, prior to his receiving them, he had obtained a supply from some other source. Among instances of his inattention to letters, the following is mentioned. Going one day to the banking-house, where he was accustomed to be paid his salary, as receiver of Cornwall, and where they sometimes accommodated him with small sums before Quarterly Review, vol. xxxiii. p. 592. 66 the regular time of payment, he asked, with all due humility, whether they could oblige him with the loan of twenty pounds. Certainly, Sir," said the clerk, "would you like any more-fifty, or a hundred ?" Sheridan, all smiles and gratitude, answered that a hundred pounds would be of the greatest convenience to him. "Perhaps, you would like to take two hundred, or three?" said the clerk. At every increase of the sum, the surprise of the borrower increased. "Have not you then received our letter?" said the clerk ;-on which it turned out that, in consequence of the falling in of some fine, a sum of twelve hundred pounds had been lately placed to the credit of the receiver-general, and that, from not having opened the letter written to apprise him, he had been left in ignorance of his good luck. Having some important favour, relative to the theatre, to solicit from the king, he begged the prince of Wales to procure him an interview. The prince promised to do so; and appointed Sheridan to be at Carltonhouse, prepared to start for Windsor at a certain hour the following day. Sheridan meanwhile went, with two or three friends, to the residence of Michael Kelly, who was absent from town,-ransacked the cellar, passed the night in carousal,—and, when the time fixed for his waiting on the prince arrived, he was in bed and asleep. Several messengers were despatched to him from Carlton-house, who, however, could not prevail on him to get up. He Sheridan enjoyed a most brilliant reputation for colloquial wit. jocularly observed, on one occasion, to a creditor who peremptorily required payment of the interest due on a long-standing debt, "My dear Sir, you know it is not my interest to pay the principal; nor is it my principle to pay the interest." The prince of Wales, one cold day, went into Brooke's, and called for a glass of hot brandy and water, which he emptied at a draught, and then ordered another. After drinking the second, and great part of a third glass, he puffed out his cheeks, and exclaimed, "Now I am comfortable !-Waiter, bring me a rump steak!" Sheridan, who was present, immediately wrote the following lines, and presented them to his royal highness: The prince came in, and said 'twas cold, When he pronounced it summer. He once took advantage of the singular love of his friend Richardson for argument, to evade payment of a heavy coach-fare. Sheridan had occupied a hackney-chariot for several hours, but had not a penny in his pocket to pay the coachman. While in this dilemma Richardson passed, and he immediately offered to take him up, as they appeared to be going in the same direction. The offer was accepted, and Sheridan adroitly started a subject on which he knew his companion would prove very vehement and obstinate. The argument was maintained with great warmth on both sides, until at length Sheridan affected to lose his temper, and pulling the check-string, commanded the coachman to let him out instantly, protesting that he would not ride another yard with a man who held such opinions, and supported them in such a manner. So saying, he descended and walked off, leaving Richardson to enjoy his fancied triumph, and to pay the whole fare. Richardson, in a paroxysm of delight at Sheridan's apparent defeat, put his head out of the window, and vociferated his arguments until he was out of sight. John Philpot Curran BORN A. D. 1750.-died a, D. 1817. THIS eminent lawyer was born of humble parents at Newmarket, an obscure little village in the county of Cork, on the 24th of June, 1750. He thus relates the circumstances which led to his obtaining a decent education. "When a boy, I was one day playing at marbles in the village ball-alley, with a light heart and still lighter pocket. The gibe and the jest went gaily round, when suddenly there appeared amongst us a stranger of a very remarkable and cheerful aspect; his intrusion was not the least restraint upon our merry little assemblage; on the contrary, he seemed pleased, and even delighted; he was a benevolent creature, and the days of infancy-after all, the happiest we shall ever see—perhaps rose upon his memory. God bless him! I see his fine form at the distance of half a century, just as he stood before me in the little ball-alley in the days of my childhood. His name was Boyse, he was the rector of Newmarket. To me he took a particular fancy. I was winning, and was full of waggery, thinking every thing that was eccentric, and by no means a miser of my eccentricities; every one was welcome to a share of them, and I had plenty to spare, after having freighted the company. Some sweetmeats easily bribed me home with him. I learned from poor Boyse my alphabet and my grammar, and the rudiments of the classics. He taught me all he could, and then sent me to the school at Middleton. In short, he made a man of me." Curran having acquired at this academy a very rapid knowledge of both ancient and modern literature, went on the 16th of June, 1767, as a sizar, to Trinity college, Dublin, which he entered under the tutelage of Dr Dobbin. Here he gained no distinction save that of pre eminent dissoluteness. In 1773 he went to London and became a student of the Middle Temple: his kind friend, Dr Boyse, allowing him a small annual sum on which to maintain himself. In 1774 he got married, and in 1775 he returned to Dublin, and was called to the Irish bar. The first fee of any consequence which he received was through Lord Kilwarden's recommendation. "I then lived," said he, "upon Hoy-hill; my wife and children were the chief furniture of my apartments, and as to my rent it stood pretty much the same chance of its liquidation with the national debt. Mrs Curran, however, was a barrister's lady, and what she wanted in wealth, she was well determined should be supplied by dignity. The landlady, on the other hand, had no other idea of any gradation except that of pounds, shillings, and pence. I walked out one morning to avoid the perpetual altercations on the subject; with my mind you may imagine in no very enviable temperament, I fell into the gloom to which, from my infancy, I had been occasionally subject. I had a family for whom I had no dinner, and a landlady for whom I had no rent. I had gone abroad in despondence,-I returned home |