upon her what for many years was punctually [paid] and withheld only when ruin encompassed him."

In 1769, after the return of his daughters from France, Mr. Sheridan took a house in Frith Street, Soho, and there gathered all his children around him. He saw much company, Topham Beauclerc, Wedderburn, Foote and Boswell being among his visitors. His daughter Elizabeth used to recall in after years how much she was impressed, as a little girl, with a thin eager-looking young man dressed in black who talked much about General Paoli. This man was Boswell, to whom her father once said: "I suppose you are in mourning for Corsica," and he answered in the affirmative.1

It is doubtful what Mr. Sheridan desired that his sons should do when they were men. He was averse to their going on the stage; he would scarcely expect, judging from his own experience, that they could live by writing books. The probability is that he contemplated employing them to further his selfimposed task of teaching the nation how to excel in oratory, and thereby take its place in the foremost. files of civilization. They would serve, he may have thought, to exhibit the result of his training, and he may have expected that other young men would be induced, by their example and proficiency, to take lessons from their father. Charles Francis, the elder and favourite son, had been exhibited as a specimen of what education, according to his father's method of imparting elocution, could contribute to give

1 "Memoirs" of Mrs. Frances Sheridan, by Alicia Lefanu, P. 337.

11.]

REMINISCENCES OF ANGELO

grace and attraction to speech and person.

77

Richard

Brinsley's talents were not turned to the same account. It is believed that he refused to serve his father as a model orator, and this may have helped to embitter his father against him.

During the residence of the two boys in London their education was not neglected. Mr. Lewis Ker, who had been a physician in Ireland, and whose health was so impaired that he was obliged to abandon the practice of his profession, gave them lessons in classics and mathematics. They were instructed in fencing and riding by Angelo, a famous and accomplished teacher. The Angelo and Sheridan families were on a most friendly footing, having been intimately acquainted for many years. In the days of Mr. Sheridan's greatest prosperity, Angelo's son, Henry, had spent many happy hours as a visitor to his house in Dublin. A letter to him has been printed which Mr. Sheridan wrote in 1774 and in which he recommends the study of Richardson's works on the ground that "no author is better qualified both to improve the mind and regulate the heart." During the residence of the Sheridan family in London, after returning from France, Sheridan was a welcome guest at the Angelos' house, and Mr. Henry Angelo records that "his engaging manners and lively wit rendered him a delightful companion, and a general favourite with all whom he met at our family table." It was in return for Mr. Sheridan's kindness to his son Henry that Angelo gave Richard Brinsley careful instruction in the use of the small sword, and his proficiency

in handling this weapon stood him in good stead when he had to fight a duel.1

Mr. Sheridan kept a tight hand over his children. He was a strict disciplinarian, and he managed his household as sternly as he did a theatre. He exacted unquestioning obedience from those dependent upon him, while he took great offence if his superiors required submission from him. He "poured lava," as he said, upon those who had offended him. He was very methodical and precise in all his ways. He had morning prayers regularly, and on Sunday evenings he either commented on the sermon of the day or expounded a passage in the Bible. He was fond of Dr. Johnson's Ramblers, and his daughters were often wearied and disheartened with the task of reading them aloud, because he was exacting with regard to enunciation and cadence, and careful in correcting what he deemed their faults of speech.

The impression made on Richard Brinsley by life in his father's household was more agreeable than might be supposed, and it was fondly cherished during many years. In later days he called to see

his father, but did not find him at home. His sister received him in the dining-room, where the cloth was laid, and he exclaimed: "Ah! I could fancy myself back among old times, seated with Charles and my sisters at this table, and my father looking round us, and giving his favourite toast: Healths, hearts and homes.' "2

1

"Reminiscences of Henry Angelo," vol. i., p. 74 ; vol. ii., p. 85. 2 "Memoirs of Mrs. Frances Sheridan," p. 350.

III.

LIFE AT BATH.

At the end of 1770, Mr. Sheridan removed with his family from London to Bath, a city in which his lectures had been greatly liked and where he hoped to rise still higher in popular favour and to reap a far richer harvest. The attractions of Bath were then unique. Life there was most delightful to seekers after amusement, while those who aspired after fame and wealth enjoyed many advantages and found many excellent opportunities.

It is difficult to realize the condition of Bath during the Eighteenth century. No other city in England could then vie with it. It is still famous and fashionable; its special beauties have neither faded nor failed; its healing springs have lost none of their magical virtues, yet its meretricious charms have vanished, and their departure cannot be noted without a slight feeling of regret. feeling of regret. Whatever once delighted idlers in London could be found on a smaller scale and in an even more pleasant form in Bath, and those who were ailing in the larger city might hope to become well in the smaller. A renowned health resort is a paradise for hypo

chondriacs, and hypochrondriacs are generally wealthy persons who readily part with their money to regain the health which they fancy has been lost. They crowded to Bath, and, to use Horace Walpole's familiar phrase, they "went there well and returned home cured."1

When Bath was in its prime as a city of pleasure, the line of demarcation between classes was less tightly drawn and clearly defined than in London, and a plausible adventurer had a better chance of playing his game among credulous and foolish men and women in the watering-place than in the Capital. A handsome person and polished manners, a fluent tongue and an insinuating address, fine clothes and fine sentiments, constituted passports to admission into the best society of Bath for many years before Richard Brinsley Sheridan first saw it and for many more after he had ceased to be a resident. During his sojourn it was the favourite haunt of fortunehunters and of rascals who lived by their wits and their wickedness. Monte Carlo now represents in many particulars what Bath was in the years that are gone.

The liveliest, the most attractive, and probably the most correct pictures of society in old Bath are to be found in old novels. Smollett, who practised

1 The conception of Bath at the present day in the mind of a Dorsetshire labourer is cleverly represented by Mr. Thomas Hardy in Far from the Madding Crowd: "The people of Bath,' continued Cain, 'never need to light their fires except as a luxury, for the water springs up out of the earth ready boiled for use. They drink nothing else there, and seem to enjoy it, to see how they swaller it down.'" Edition 1893, p. 223.