disinclination or indifference to it was strongly characteristic both of his humour and his tact. Aware that the wild scheme of Cartwright and others, which these Resolutions recommended, was wholly impracticable, he always took refuge in it when pressed upon the subject, and would laughingly advise his political friends to do the same "Whenever any one,' " he would say, : proposes to you a specific plan of Reform, always answer that you are for nothing short of Annual Parliaments and Universal Suffrage-there you are safe." He also had evident delight, when talking on this question, in referring to a jest of Burke, who said that there had arisen a new party of Reformers, still more orthodox than the rest, who thought Annual Parliaments far from being sufficiently frequent, and who, founding themselves upon the latter words of the statute of Edward III., that "a parliament shall be holden every year once, and more often if need be," were known by the denomination of the Oftener-ifneed-bes. "For my part," he would add, in relating this, "I am an Oftener-if-need-be." Even when most serious on the subject (for, to the last, he professed himself a warm friend to Reform), his arguments had the air of being ironical and insidious. To Annual Parliaments and Universal Suffrage, he would say, the principles of representation naturally and necessarily led,—any less extensive proposition was a base compromise and eyes a dereliction of right; and the first encroachment on the people was the act of Henry VI., which limited the power of election to forty-shilling freeholders within the county, whereas the real right was in the "outrageous and excessive" number of people, by whom the preamble recites* that the choice had been made of late.-Such were the arguments by which he affected to support his cause, and it is not difficult to detect the of the snake glistening from under them. The dissolution of parliament that took place in the autumn of this year (1780) afforded at length the opportunity to which his ambition had so eagerly looked forward. It has been said, I know not with what accuracy, that he first tried his chance of election at Honiton-but Stafford was the place destined to have the honour of first choosing him for its representative; and it must have been no small gratification to his independent spirit, that, unfurnished as he was with claims from past political services, he appeared in parliament, not as the nominee of any aristocratic patron, but as member for a borough, which, whatever might be its purity in other respects, at least enjoyed the freedom of choice. * "Elections of knights of shires have now of late been made by very great outrageous and excessive number of people, dwelling within the same counties, of the which most part was people of small substance and of no value." 8 H. 6. c. 7. 276 MEMOIRS OF R. B. SHERIDAN. Elected conjointly with Mr. Monckton, to whose interest and exertions he chiefly owed his success, he took his seat in the new parliament which met in the month of October;—and, from that moment giving himself up to the pursuit of politics, bid adieu to the worship of the Dramatic Muse for ever: "Comœdia luget; Scena est deserta: hinc ludus risusque jocusque Comedy mourns-the Stage neglected sleeps- CHAPTER VII. UNFINISHED PLAYS AND POEMS. BEFORE I enter upon the sketch of Mr. Sheridan's political life, I shall take this opportunity of laying before the reader such information with respect to his unfinished literary designs, both dramatic and poetic, as the papers in my possession enable me to communicate. Some of his youthful attempts in literature have already been mentioned, and there is a dramatic sketch of his, founded on the Vicar of Wakefield, which, from a date on the manuscript (1768), appears to have been produced at a still earlier age, and when he was only in his seventeenth year. A scene of this piece will be suffi– cient to show how very soon his talent for lively dialogue displayed itself :— "SCENE II. "THORNHILL and ARNOLD. "Thornhill. Nay, prithee, Jack, no more of that if you love me. What, shall I stop short with the game in full view? Faith, I believe the fellow's turned puritan. What think you of turning methodist, Jack? You have a tolerable good canting countenance, and, if escaped VOL. I. 24 being taken up for a Jesuit, you might make a fortune in Moor-fields. "Arnold. I was serious, Tom. "Thorn. Splenetic you mean. glass, and a truce to your preaching. Come, fill your Here's a pretty fellow has let his conscience sleep for these five years, and has now plucked morality from the leaves of his grandmother's bible, beginning to declaim against what he has practised half his life-time. Why, I tell you once more, my schemes are all come to perfection. I am now convinced Olivia loves me—at our last conversation, she said she would rely wholly on my honour. "Arn. And therefore you would deceive her. "Thorn. Why no-deceive her?-why-indeed-as to that-but-but, for God's sake, let me hear no more on this subject, for 'faith you make me sad, Jack. If you continue your admonitions, I shall begin to think you have yourself an eye on the girl. You have promised me your assistance, and when you came down into the country, were as hot on the scheme as myself : but, since you have been two or three times with me at Primrose's, you have fallen off strangely. No encroachments, Jack, on my little rosebud-if you have a mind to beat up game in this quarter, there's her sister—but no poaching. "Arn. I am not insensible to her sister's merit, but have no such views as you have. However, you have promised me that if you find in this lady that real virtue which you so firmly deny to exist in the sex, you will give up the pursuit, and, foregoing the low considerations of fortune, make atonement by marriage. “Thorn. Such is my serious resolution. "Arn. I wish you'd forego the experiment. But, you |