appealed to Rome, and resolved on going thither, but proceeded no further than the monastery of Cluni.

Here he was kindly received, and affectionately treated by the abbot and monks, and here he passed the short remnant of his life. He expired on the 21st of April, 1142, in the sixty-third year of his age. It is not known how Heloisa bore the tidings of his death; she soon after wrote to the abbot of Cluni, to remind him that Abeillard had requested that his body should be deposited in the cementery at Paraclet, and the good natured abbot dug him up out of the grave by stealth, and carried him there. He was interred there with great pomp; and Heloisa, twenty years after, was laid by him in the same tomb.

Mr. Beringeis opinion of the character of Abeillard is not very favourable.

'He was born with uncommon abilities, and in a better age, had they been directed to other purposes, their display might have given more solid glory to their possessor, and more real advantage to mankind. But he was to take the world as he found it, for he could not correct its vicious taste, nor, indeed, did he attempt it. On the contrary, the vicious taste of the age seemed to accord with the most prominent features of his mind. He loved controversy, was pleased with the sound of his own voice, and, in the most favourable researches, rather looked for quibbles and evasive sophistry, than for truth and the conviction of reason. He was a disputatious logician therefore, and in this consisted all his philosophy. His divinity was much of the same complexion.

'When we consider him as a writer, not much more can be added to his praise. He is obscure, laboured, and inelegant; nor do I discover any traces of that genius and vivid energy of soul, which he certainly possessed, and which rendered him so formidable in the schools of philosophy. Even when he describes his own misfortunes, and is the hero of his own tale, the story is languid, and it labours on through a tedious and digressive narration of incidents. In his theological tracts he is more jejune, and in his letters, he has not the elegance, nor the harmony, nor the soul of Heloisa. Therefore, did we not know, how much his abilities were extolled by his contemporaries, what encomiums they gave to his pen, and how much the proudest disputants of the age feared the fire of his tongue, we certainly should be inclined to say, perusing his works, that Abeillard was not an uncommon

man.

Nor was he uncommon in his moral character. He had not to thank nature for any great degree of sensibility, that source of pain and of pleasure, of virtue and of vice. Thrown, from early youth, into habits which could not meliorate his dispositions, he became selfish, opiniative, and vain-glorious. What did not serve to gratify his own humour, called for little of his regard. He wished to appear above the common feelings of humanity, for his

philosophy was not of a nature to make him the friend of man. Of religion, he knew little more than the splendid theory; and its amiable precepts were too obvious and familiar to engage the attention, and modify the heart, of an abstruse and speculative reasoner. When he loved Heloisa, it was not her person, nor her charms, nor her abilities, nor her virtues, which he loved; he sought only his own gratification, and in its pursuit, no repulsion of innocence could thwart him, no voice of duty, of friendship, of unguarded confidence, could impede his headlong progress. He suffered; and from that moment rather, he became a man. We may blame him, perhaps, that he should so easily forget Heloisa; but I have said, that he never really loved her. More than other men, he was not free to command his affections; and from motives of religion, perhaps even of compassion, he wished in her breast to check that ardent flame, which burned to no other purpose, than to render her heart miserable and her life forlorn.'

(To be continued.)

ART. II.-Memoirs of the Public and Private life of the Right Honourable Richard Brinsley Sheridan, with a particular Account of his Family and Connexions. By John Watkins, LL.D. 2 vols. 4to. pp. 360. London 1819.

FEW

[From the Monthly Review.]

EW periods of our parliamentary history have been richer in brilliant orators than the American war and the era of the French revolution; the eloquence of Burke having served as the middle link between lord Chatham on the one hand, and Fox, the late Mr. Pitt, and Sheridan on the other. The public possess both biographical memoirs and the substance of the principal speeches of all these distinguished senators, with the exception of Sheridan, on whom Dr. Watkins has undertaken to bestow this tribute of national regard; and to whom another testimony, we understand, will shortly be paid by Mr. Moore, the translator of Anacreon, no doubt with more brilliancy of effect, and more fervor of attachment, patriotic and political: whether with more justice, we cannot undertake to prognosticate. In performing his task, the doctor gives his readers an assurance that he has spared no pains in examining printed authorities, and that he has likewise had access to a number of family-papers: an advantage particularly necessary in the case of Sheridan; who, in addition to his parliamentary exertions, had, from his connection with the drama, a very considerable share of private business. The author adds farther that he has executed his duty with strict impartiality; a course which, as we shall soon have occasion to show, he is likely to be considered, by the admirers of Mr. Sheridan, as having at least carried to a rigorous extreme: while all readers must object to his prolixity, of which he gives a striking proof in the outset of the work, filling above 100 quarto pages with the memoirs of Mr. S.'s grandfather and father. The former was an intimate acquaint

ance of Swift, and might have derived a comfortable support for his family from keeping in Dublin a classical seminary on a large scale, had he not frustrated the fairest hopes by an incurable versatility. This unfortunate disposition was equally conspicuous in the conduct of his son; who was brought up to the stage, and received with considerable favour both in Dublin and London, but was perpetually turning aside into schemes unconnected with his profession; having made himself known not only as the author of Lectures on Elocution and of a Pronouncing Dictionary, but as an ardent advocate for an altered system of education. He was thus perpetually involved in debt, and obliged to change his residence not only from Ireland to England, but from England to France.

Richard Brinsley was the second son of this literary speculator, and was born in Dublin in 1751. His early education was managed by his mother, a woman of great merit; and, in his twelfth year, he was sent to Harrow: where, with much aptitude for prompt acquisition, he was remarkable for no small share of that indolence which in after-life so materially clouded the display of his talents. Dr. Parr, at that time a junior teacher in the school, is said to have quickly perceived his powers, and to have exerted himself to draw them forth: but the doctor's removal to Cambridge took place soon afterward, and was followed by a more severe and affecting loss to young Sheridan, the death of his mother. He was thus early left to provide for himself: his father, full of his new scheme of education, contemplating no other line for his sons than the management of academies;-an employment which would never have accorded with the buoyant spirits and shining talents of Richard. The first remarkable event in the life of the latter was an attachment to Miss Linley; who at an early age was the admiration of Bath for her beauty and musical accomplishments; and whose friends opposed a connection, which offered so little prospect of comfort. The marriage, however, took place clandestinely: which gave rise to unpleasant rumours, and to a sanguinary though not fatal duel between Mr. S. and a captain Mathews, who had been chiefly instrumental in the circulation of these reports. Some time afterward, viz. in 1773, Mr. S. was entered a member of the middle temple, less with an intention of following up the law, (for he was never called to the bar,) than of satisfying his wife's relations that he was not without the prospect of a profession.

From the earliest period of his career, Sheridan exhibited a singular inattention to the value of money, and made it a point to withhold his wife from the public exhibition of her talent, though the rate of his expenditure rendered a large income indispensable; his ambition, even at this time, being to entertain a wide circle of visitors. At last, he consented to a compromise, and permitted his wife to have private concerts; a plan which produced a handsome return both in Bath and London: but, their expenses requiring

still an additional income, he determined to write for the stage. His first production, the comedy of The Rivals, was brought forwards at Covent-Garden in January, 1775, and was received, after a few retrenchments and improvements in the cast of the performance, with great approbation: but his grand introduction to public favour was the comic opera of The Duenna, which was acted with rapturous applause during 75 nights, being ten more than the run of the well known opera of Gay. His reputation was now established as a dramatic writer of the first class: and he became intimate not only with Burke, who was then in his meridian, but with the literary veterans who were shortly to be carried off the scene, Goldsmith, Garrick, Johnson, and sir Joshua Reynolds. Circumstances soon led to Garrick's taking part in a transaction which afforded a proof of unusual confidence in his young friend; for, on his retiring from the direction at Drury-Lane, in June, 1776, Sheridan was admitted to a considerable share in the property, and management of the theatre. Garrick was owner of half of the theatre, and sold it for 35,000l.; of which 15,000l. were made over to Ford, 10,000l. to Sheridan, and the same sum to Sheridan's brother-in-law, Linley. Sheridan, being at that time not less pressed by the res angusta than in subsequent years, owed the acquisition of so considerable a share solely to the confidence of his friends in his talent for writing: the money was advanced principally by Ford. Under the guidance of Garrick, Sheridan proceeded to make improvements in several comedies, particularly The Old Bachelor, The Way of the World, and Love for Love; each of which he rendered extremely popular. In other plays, such as The Tempest and The Relapse, he was not equally fortunate: but the cloud that had begun, since Garrick's retirement, to overhang the theatre, was cleared away in the most brilliant manner before the end of the season, by the production of The School for Scandal, which was first acted on the 8th of May, 1777.

In 1778, Sheridan's interest in Drury-Lane acquired a great extension; his friends having purchased for him, at the price of nearly 40,000/. the remaining half of the theatre, and consigned the management to his father. The latter was by this time of more than mature age: but neither his temper nor the general character of his regulations was calculated to restore unanimity. Garrick died in January, 1779: Mr. Sheridan, senior, felt it necessary to withdraw from the management; and the affairs of the theatre became more and more embroiled. The younger Sheridan was not only devoted to company, and averse from the restraint of business, but was actuated, particularly in his younger years, by a romantic spirit of speculation; and it was this which led him first to grasp at so disproportionate a share of Drury-Lane, and even to join Mr. Harris in the purchase of the Opera-house, and then impelled him, while yet under the age of thirty, and overpowered by literary engagements, to aim at a seat in parliament. His intimacy with Burke and Fox naturally impressed him with opposition

principles, and the bad success of the American war seemed like. ly to open the gates of office to the leaders of that side. His vivacity, his readiness at repartee, and his fluency on various topics, made him the delight of convivial parties: but these qualities occasioned the waste of many precious hours, and deprived him both of income and the means of adding to his stock of knowledge. His friends, however, thought that his ready elocution would render him an useful combatant in the House of Commons; and, after an unsuccessful attempt at the borough of Honiton, he prevailed at Stafford, and took his seat in parliament in the end of 1780, about the same time with Mr. Pitt. He soon bore a part in the principal debates, and, on the resignation of lord North in the spring of 1782, he came into office under lord Rockingham as one of the under secretaries of state: but the death of this nobleman having soon caused a change of ministry, Mr. S. fell again into the opposition ranks, and took an active share in the schemes for parliamentary reform. Mr. Pitt being now chancellor of the exchequer, under lord Shelburne, and attracting much attention by his powers as a debater, Mr. S. evidently sought opportunities of coming into contact with his youthful opponent, and, if he could not baffle him in argument, was certainly his equal in repartee. In a debate on the pending negociations for peace in February, 1783, both sides manifested considerable personality, and Mr. Pitt made a pointed allusion to Sheridan's dramatic connections.

""No man," said he, "admired more than he did the abilities of the honourable gentleman, the elegant sallies of his thought, the gay effusions of his fancy, his dramatic turns, his epigrammatic points; and if they were reserved for the proper stage, they would no doubt receive what the honourable gentleman's abilities always did receive-the plaudits of the audience; and it would be his fortune, sui plausu gaudere theatri. But this was not the proper scene for the exhibition of these elegancies."'

'Mr. Sheridan, in explanation, adverted in a forcible manner to this personality, saying, "he need not comment on it, as the propriety, the taste, and the gentlemanly point of it, must have been obvious to the house. But," added he, "let me assure the right honourable gentleman, that I do now, and will at any time when he chuses to repeat this sort of allusion, meet it with the most sincere good-humour; nay,-I will say more.-flattered and encouraged by the right honourable gentleman's panegyric on my talents, if ever I again engage in the composition he alludes to, I may be tempted to an act of presumption, to attempt, with an improvement, on one of Ben Jonson's best characters, that of the angry boy in the Alchymist."

'This reciprocity of sarcastic ridicule occasioned much sport at the period; and the whimsical application of Sheridan's dramatic reading fixed upon his opponent an appellation which he did not get rid of for many years.'