tion; she listened to the voice of the charmer, and the ill-nature of the world, which never brooks superiority in an individual, accused her of coquetry, of levity, nay, of forgetfulness of the high duties which women are called upon to perform when they would be held up as examples to their sex. Still she was a ministering angel to Sheridan; and whatever may have been the occasional sources of their disunion, she entered into all his cares and anxieties with the devotion of an attached and affectionate woman. Her letters breathe a spirit of tender love, of pride in the man of her choice, of deep anxiety and solicitude for his success in each of his undertakings. She assisted him in all the varieties of public character he was called on to assume; the dramatist, the manager of a playhouse, the statesman, found in her one fully capable of appreciating his powers, of embellishing them, of drawing them out. She was an admirable judge of poesy-herself a poet; she was a useful critic of the drama; she was skilled in electioneering; and everything that to him was an object of importance became for her a source of inquiry. Probably most of the readers of Moore's "Life of Sheridan" have felt that the chapter dedicated to the death of Mrs. Sheridan is one of the most perfect of all that have appeared, and to that we must refer for an insight into the character of this most interesting woman. He has collected together a number of letters that exhibit, in their full charms, all the bright virtues with which she was adorned, and sufficiently account for the deep grief which her loss inflicted upon her husband. Whatever may have been those imperfections which she, in common with the rest of mankind, inherited, they

of course were forgotten and quickly buried in oblivion; whilst memory loved to cherish the remembrance of those fascinations which charmed all who approached her. Sheridan mourned over his sad loss, and turned with hope to a child in whom he thought, perhaps, he might see her mother's virtues and her mother's charms reflected. Of this consolation, however, he was deprived; she died under circumstances which must have poignantly added to his grief. “A large party was assembled at Sheridan's to spend a joyous evening in dancing; all were in the height of merriment; he himself remarkably cheerful, and partaking of the amusement, when the alarm was given that the dear little angel was dying. It is impossible to describe the confusion and horror of the scene." His affliction was severe. The child, in death, was so like her mother that every one was struck with the resemblance. For four or five days Sheridan lingered over the remains. His sense then taught him to bear up against the affliction which had bent him down, and he became resigned to the loss of his cherished hopes.

Kelly says: "I never beheld more poignant grief than Mr. Sheridan felt for the loss of his beloved wife; and, although the world, which knew him only as a public man, will perhaps scarcely credit the fact, I have seen him night after night sit and cry like a child, while I sang to him, at his desire, a pathetic little song of my composition :

"They bore her to a grassy grave.'"

On the 13th of December the House assembled ; during the vacation the aspect of affairs had gradually become more serious. The speech from the throne

announced the necessity of calling out the militia; that there existed a design to attempt the overthrow of the constitution, evidently pursued in connection and concert with persons in foreign countries; that the utmost efforts had been made to observe a strict neutrality in the war on the Continent, and to avoid any interference in the internal affairs of France. But there existed strong and increasing indications there of a determination to excite disturbance in other countries, to disregard the rights of neutral nations, to extend its limits by conquest, as well as to adopt, towards other states, general measures not conformable with the laws of nations or existing treaties. It was incumbent on Parliament to take steps to augment the naval and military force and to maintain internal tranquillity. The speech concluded.

The address was moved by Sir James Sanderson, the Lord Mayor of London, and seconded by Mr. Wallace. An amendment was moved by Mr. Fox, who, looking upon it as the production of the Ministry, felt that he had a right to deny the assertions contained in the speech. He did not believe in the existence of an insurrection, nor any desire to excite one; that the alarm only existed in the artful designsand practices of the Ministry; there never was at home a greater spirit of loyalty; and as for those who were fighting for liberty in France, he wished them success. His amendment was, "That the House should enter into an immediate examination of the facts which were stated in the speech, and had been the cause of thus summoning Parliament." An animated debate ensued, in which, on one side, the opinions of Burke, of Wyndham, and of Dundas were

given; on the other, those of Grey, of Erskine, and of Sheridan.

Wyndham expressed his regret that he was compelled to oppose his former friends, but was satisfied that the nation was in peril; and though there might be tranquillity on the surface, there was beneath confusion and tumult.

Sheridan's speech was concise, but admirably to the point. "He believed the formidable band of republicans which had been mentioned to exist in this country to be men in buckram. Such was his idea of the character of Englishmen, that he would take upon him to assert that were but one French soldier to land upon our coast, under the idea of effecting any change in our government, every hand and heart in the country would be roused by the indignity and unite to oppose so insulting an attempt. . . . As to the question of war, he should vote that English ministers be impeached who should enter into a war for the purpose of re-establishing the former despotism in France; who should dare in such a cause to spend one guinea, or shed one drop of blood."

The amendment was negatived. The majority of the minister had, by the desertion of so many from the Whig party, largely increased; 290 voted with him, 50 against him. Mr. Fox, still desirous that peace should be maintained, moved, on the following day, an amendment: "Trusting that your Majesty will employ every species of negotiation, to prevent the calamities of war, that may be deemed consistent with the honour and dignity of the British nation." He was seconded by Sheridan. "Peace he wished for, by all means peace; but," he added, "if it could

not be obtained, he should vote for vigorous war— not a war of shifts and scraps, of timid operation or protracted effort, but a war conducted with such energy as shall evince to the world that the nation was fighting for its dearest and most invaluable privileges." The motion was negatived; but undismayed by defeat, desirous that the nation should not plunge into that long and fearful train of calamities which war brings with it, Fox, even on the following day, proposed that a minister should be sent to France to treat with the provisional committee. Burke observed "that he thought the debate should not proceed during the unavoidable absence of Mr. Pitt, who was absent at Cambridge, for the university of which he was canvassing." Sheridan replied, "He must be excused for paying no respect whatever to the observation of a right honourable gentleman (Mr. Burke) that it was improper to bring forward these discussions in the absence of his Majesty's first minister! This was a tender respect to the dignity of office in that right honourable gentleman; but he must be permitted to say that the representation of the country was indeed placed in a degraded light, if it was to be maintained that the great council of the nation was not, in this momentous crisis, a competent court to discuss the dearest interests of the people, unless the presence of a certain minister of the crown sanctioned their deliberations. But on what ground did they regret the absence of the treasury leader? Had there appeared any want of numbers or ability to compensate for this loss? What exertion that he could have furnished had been unsupplied? Had there been any want of splendid and sonorous declamation to cover a meagreness of argument?