XII.] SHERIDAN AT THIRTY-THREE 415 "Nor did he, while thus chastising his adversary, alter a muscle of his own countenance which, as well as his gestures, seemed to participate and display the unalterable serenity of his intellectual formation. Rarely did he elevate his voice, and never except in subservience to the dictates of his judgment, with the view to produce a corresponding effect on his audience. Yet he was always heard, generally listened to with eagerness, and could obtain a hearing at almost any hour. Burke, who wanted Sheridan's nice tact and his amenity of manner, was continually coughed down, and on those occasions he lost his temper. Even Fox often tired the House by the repetitions which he introduced into his speeches. Sheridan never abused their patience. Whenever he rose, they anticipated a rich repast of wit without acrimony, seasoned by allusions and citations the most delicate, yet obvious in their application. "At this period of his life, when he was not more than thirty-three years of age, his countenance and features had in them something peculiarly pleasing, indicative at once of intellect, humour and gaiety. All these characteristics played about his lips when speaking, and operated with inconceivable attraction; for they anticipated, as it were, to the eye, the effect produced by his oratory on the ear, thus opening for him a sure way to the heart or the understanding. Even the tones of his voice, which were singularly mellifluous, aided the general effect of his eloquence; nor was it accompanied by Burke's unpleasant Irish accent. Pitt's enunciation sonorous. was unquestionably more imposing, dignified and Fox displayed more argument as well as vehemence; Burke possessed more fancy and enthusiasm; but Sheridan won his way by a sort of fascination." 1 "Memoirs of Sir Nathaniel Wraxall," vol. iii., pp. 367, 368. APPENDIX TO VOL. I. HERNAN'S MISCELLANY. No. I. "I will sit down and write for the good of the People-for (said I to myself, pulling off my spectacles, and drinking the remainder of my six penn'worth) it cannot be but people must be sick of these same rascally Politics. All last winter nothing but-'God defend me! 'tis tiresome to think of it- I immediately flung the Pamphlet down on the table; and taking my hat and cain walked out of the Coffee-house. "I kept up as smart a pace as I could all the way home; for I felt myself full of something; and enjoyed my own thoughts so much, that I was afraid of digesting them lest any should escape me. At last I knocked at my own door-So! said I to the maid who opened it (for I never would keep a man: not, but what I could afford it however, the reason is not material now) so! said I, with an unusual smile upon my face; and immediately sent her for [a quire] of paper, and half a hundred of pens-the only thing I had absolutely determined on, in my way from the Coffee-house. I had now got seated in my arm chair-I am an infirm old man ! and I live on a second floor-when I began to ruminate on my project. The first thing that occurred to me (and certainly a very natural one) was, to examine my Common-place book. So I went to my desk, and took out my old faithful red-leather companion, who had long discharged the office of Treasurer to all my best hints and memorandums: but how was I surprised! when one of [the] first things that struck my eyes was the following memorandum, legibly written, and on one of my best sheets of Vellum. Mem. Oct. 20th. 1769-Left the Grecian [coffee-house] after having read 27 VOL. I. -s Poems; with a determined resolution to write a periodical paper, in order to reform the vitiated taste of the age; but, coming home and finding my fire out, and my maid gone abroad, was obliged to defer the execution of my plan to another opportunity! Now tho' this event had absolutely slip'd my memory, I now recollected it perfectly-aye, so my fire was out indeed; and my maid did go abroad sure enough—'Good Heavens!' said I, 'How great events depend upon little circumstances.' However, I looked upon this as a memento for me no longer to trifle away my time and resolution; and thus I began to reason—I mean, I would have reasoned, had I not been interrupted by a noise of some one coming upstairs. By the alternate thump upon the steps, I soon discovered it must be my own and intimate friend Rudliche. [Crabtree was the name first chosen for this personage.] What (thought I) I suppose that careless maid on going to the stationer's left the door on a jar, and Rudliche finding it so has step'd in without ceremony. Od's my life! to be interrupted at such a time as this! I wish with all my soul his wooden leg was in his throat! I argued thus with myself, while my friend was on the stairs for it must be obvious to every one, that any man who, by any accident whatsoever, has lost his own leg, and so, becomes necessitated to make use of a wooden leg, cannot (from the nature of things) with that wooden leg, make such expedition upstairs, as a man who, not having lost his own leg, is not obliged to make use of a wooden one. The truth of this will appear still more evident, if we suppose those stairs to be decayed stairs (which I solemnly declare to be the case with mine, tho' I have hinted the matter to my landlord above fifty times). But to return,-in walked Rudliche-'so! Fred'-'so! Bob'-'were you at the Grecian to-day?' 'I just step'd in '-'well, any news?' -'no, no, there was no news.' Now as Bob and I saw one another almost every day, we seldom abounded in conversation: so, having settled one material point, he sat in his usual posture, looking at the fire, and beating the dust out of his wooden leg, when I perceived he was just going to toutch upon the other subject; but, having by chance cast his eye on my face, and finding, (I suppose) something extraordinary in my countenance, he immediately drop'd all concern for the weather, and putting his APPENDIX TO VOL. I. 419 hand into his pocket (as if he meant to find what he was going to say, under pretence of feeling for his tobacco-box) Hernan!' (he began) why man you look for all the world as if you had been thinking of something '-'Yes,' replied I, smiling (that is not actually smiling, but with a conscious something in my face) 'I have indeed been thinking a little.' 'What is't a secret?'-'0, nothing very material'-There ensued a pause—which I employ'd in considering whether I should reveal my scheme to Bob; and Bob in trying to disengage his thumb from the string of his cain, as if he were preparing to take his leave. "This latter action, with the great desire I had of disburthening myself, made me instantly resolve to lay my whole plan before him. Bob,' said I, (He immediately quitted his thumb) 'you remarked that I looked as if I had been thinking of something-' 'your remark is just, and I'll tell you the subject of my thought. You know, Bob, that I always had a strong passion for Literature -you have often seen my collection of Books—not very large indeed-However I believe that I have read every volume of it twice over (excepting [Warburton's] "Divine Legation of Moses" and . . . Lives of the most notorious Malefactors) and I am now determined to profit by them.' I concluded with a very significant nod-but, Good Heavens! how mortified was I to find both my speech, and my nod thrown away, when Rudliche calmly replied, with the true phlegm of Ignorance, 'My dear Friend, I think your resolution in regard to your books a very prudent one, but I do not perfectly conceive your plan as to the profit; for tho' your volumes may be very curious, yet you know they are most of them second-hand!'-I was so vex'd at the fellow's stupidity, that I had a great mind to punish him by not disclosing a syllable more. However at last my vanity got the better of my resentment, and I explained to him the whole matter.-There is no point in the world I am more convinced of, than that an intimate acquaintance with great abilities lessens them in them [sic] eyes of people of weak judgment, as objects of great bulk lose their dignity, when we become too familiar with them. This was precisely the case with Rudliche, who having for these thirty years (or at least I am sure above nine and twenty years) been acquainted with my I'll not call them great abilities-but with my abilities whatever they |