СНАР.

I.

177!.

Attention seizes every ear;

We pant for the description here:
'If ever dulness left thy brow,

'Pindar,' we say, ''twill leave thee now.'
But O! old Dulness' son anointed
His mother never disappointed! -
And here we all were left to seek
A dimple in F-rd-ce's cheek!

"And could you really discover,

In gazing those sweet beauties over,
No other charm, no winning grace,
Adorning either mind or face,
But one poor dimple, to express
The quintessence of loveliness?

".... Mark'd you her cheek of rosy hue?
Mark'd you her eye of sparkling blue?
That eye, in liquid circles moving;
That cheek abash'd at Man's approving;
The one, Love's arrows darting round;
The other, blushing at the wound:
Did she not speak, did she not move,
Now Pallas- now the Queen of Love !"

There is little else in this poem worth being extracted, though it consists of about four hundred lines; except, perhaps, his picture of a good country house-wife, which affords an early specimen of that neat pointedness of phrase, which gave his humour, both poetic and dramatic, such a peculiar edge and polish :

"We see the Dame, in rustic pride,
A bunch of keys to grace her side,
Stalking across the well-swept entry,
To hold her council in the pantry;
Or, with prophetic soul, foretelling
The peas will boil well by the shelling;
Or, bustling in her private closet,
Prepare her lord his morning posset ;
And while the hallow'd mixture thickens,
Signing death-warrants for the chickens :
Else, greatly pensive, poring o'er
Accounts her cook had thumb'd before;
One eye cast up upon that great book,
Yclep'd The Family Receipt Book ;
By which she's rul'd in all her courses,
From stewing figs to drenching horses.
— Then pans and pickling skillets rise,
In dreadful lustre, to our eyes,

With store of sweetmeats, rang'd in order,
And potted nothings on the border;
While salves and caudle-cups between,
With squalling children, close the scene."

We find here, too, the source of one of those familiar lines, which so many quote without knowing whence they come; - one of those stray fragments, whose parentage is doubtful, but to which (as the law says of illegitimate children) "pater est populus."

"You write with ease, to show your breeding,
But easy writing's curst hard reading.”

CHAP.
I.

1771.

CHAP.

I.

1771.

In the following passage, with more of the tact of a man of the world than the ardour of a poet, he dismisses the object nearest his heart with the mere passing gallantry of a compli

"O! should your genius ever rise,
And make you Laureate in the skies,
I'd hold my life, in twenty years,
You'd spoil the music of the spheres.

Nay, should the rapture-breathing Nine
In one celestial concert join,

Their sovereign's power to rehearse,

On the opening of the New Assembly Rooms at Bath, which commenced with a ridotto, Sept. 30. 1771, he wrote a humorous description of the entertainment, called "An Epistle from Timothy Screw to his Brother Henry, Waiter at Almack's," which appeared first in The Bath Chronicle, and was so eagerly sought after, that Crutwell, the editor, was induced to publish it in a separate form. The allusions in this trifle have, of course, lost their zest by time; and a specimen or two of its humour will be all that is necessary here.

"Two rooms were first opened—the long and the round CHAP.

one,

(These Hogstyegon names only serve to confound one,)
Both splendidly lit with the new chandeliers,
With drops hanging down like the bobs at Peg's ears:
While jewels of paste reflected the rays,

And Bristol-stone diamonds gave strength to the blaze:
So that it was doubtful, to view the bright clusters,
Which sent the most light out, the ear-rings or lustres.

Nor less among you was the medley, ye fair!

I believe there were some beside quality there :
Miss Spiggot, Miss Brussels, Miss Tape, and Miss Socket,
Miss Trinket, and aunt, with her leathern pocket,
With good Mrs. Soaker, who made her old chin go,
For hours, hobnobbing with Mrs. Syringo:

Had Tib staid at home, I b'lieve none would have miss'd

her,

Or pretty Peg Runt, with her tight little sister," &c. &c.

I.

1771.

CHAP. II,

DUELS WITH MR. MATHEWS.- MARRIAGE WITH
MISS LINLEY.

II.

1771.

CHAP. TOWARDS the close of the year 1771, the elder Mr. Sheridan went to Dublin, to perform at the theatre of that city, leaving his young and lively family at Bath, with nothing but their hearts and imaginations to direct them.

The following letters, which passed between him and his son Richard during his absence, though possessing little other interest than that of having been written at such a period, will not, perhaps, be unwelcome to the reader:

"MY DEAR RICHARD,

"Dublin, Dec. 7th, 1771.

"How could you be so wrong-headed as to commence cold bathing at such a season of the year, and I suppose without any preparation too? You have paid sufficiently for your folly, but I hope the ill effects of it have been long since over. You and your brother are fond of quacking, a most dangerous disposition with