operate for or against him. Aristocratic pride will naturally take the alarm when brilliant talent has the effect of raising a person of low birth or equivocal pretensions, into a contact on terms approaching equality. But there is a broader though less intelligible feeling of jealousy, which affects classes whose pretension to respect is founded on any peculiar department of knowledge. The mathematical Class judges of a man by his mathematical ability-men of business by expertness in the details of affairs; and there is a strong and natural opposition to any claim of superiority dependent on high distinction in some other walk. But amongst all these, there is perhaps no sense of this kind of jealousy so strong as that between the public and the literary man. There is pretension of the same kind, so differently manifested, that their respective degrees of merit cannot be adjusted by comparison; and as comparison is the popular way of thinking, a strong sense of opposition is propagated in prejudices. With this, a sense is mingled, of the jealousy of being eclipsed by pretensions which are not willingly acknowledged. The feeling is both coarse and common; but like all our latent feelings, cannot be stated without the appearance of refining. It will easily, however, be felt, that the communis sensus, or esprit de corps, of professed politicians must be offended at the implied sanction by which the comedian and "wit upon the town," might claim so pretending an affinity with orators, members of committees, and statesmen. Sheridan's course was, in this respect, one of consummate tact and address. By slow degrees of progress, he allowed one character to sink, while he diligently cultivated and put forward the other. The most glaringly opposed associations blend into union, and become consistent in the minds of the crowd, whose judgments are but prejudices, even on the side of truth. Sheridan's known and familiar associates were the most commanding spirits of the day. And before he began to occupy the leading place which his talents claimed, both parliament and the public had come to look on him less in his character of manager and dramatist, than as the friend of Fox and the ally of Burke. Nor was it long before a loftier and intrinsically more honorable distinction graced his other claims to reputation, in the friendship of the Prince of Wales. In this position it is, that the biographer

may dwell for a while with complacency on the successes, and on the prosperous ascent of talent and merit like Sheridan's. In the final estimate of posterity, an equity too severely just, pronounces upon the result of a life. The termination which crowns with approbation the bright event of adverse and often equivocal appearances, fixes also the worth of brilliant talents happy dispositions and favoring circumstances marred by indiscretion. The characters of men, in the estimate of posterity, will lie as they fall; and we have no right to protest against the award which is not merely just but useful. But the biographer has also a private duty on a lesser scale to fulfil, equally consistent with truth, justice, and utility. In claiming praise for worth and talent, and commiseration for that mixture of folly, infatuation, and misfortune, by which they have been baffled and overcome, as well as corrupted, he is but enforcing a lesson equally awful and affecting on the pride of man. He exhibits the caution and providence required to ensure success; he has to show how slight errors and deviations may accumulate in their consequences, and how passion, vice, and indolence, gather force from indulgence, and neutralize the happiest opportunities to brightest powers. Sheridan's sagacity was, perhaps, of the highest order. No man was more alert to see the slightest indications of wind and tide, in the steering of court intrigue; and no man was less likely to lower and compromise himself by a base and dishonorable use of finesse. In the associations which now opened to him a seemingly auspicious road to honor and wealth, he bad qualities which, with discretion, might, in time, have enabled him to take a more leading position. His common sense and sagacity gave him an advantage over Fox; and the stern and uncomplying earnestness which fixed and elevated the master spirit of Burke, gave Sheridan a similar advantage over him in the intercourse of personal communication, which forms so much of the real working of public affairs. Burke's overmastering spirit was an influence from which men were glad to be relieved; and this in proportion to their own importance. Fox, on the other hand, had, in his ardent and fiery nature, something of the meteoric, and impressed a sense of the danger of being carried away into extreme lengths. In the varied sources of human in

fluence, there is none which can be carried so far as that of the social kinda pleasing countenance-a general tone of sense the companionable powers of wit and vivacity-the ready sympathy, with all the varying moods-the quick rebound of mind-the salient wit-the ready repartee-the tone of mind equally capable of seriousness and levity, as occasion may require. These were the characters of Sheridan's general demeanor. His persuasiveness and the fascination of his manner, can only now be judged of by the effects which they are known to have produced; and these effects fell little short of the notion of enchantment. The miracles of his address, are altogether unparalleled in our recollections of human adroitness and influence. He could unlock the heart of thrifty avarice

to his large necessities, and convert the anxious solicitation of the suspicious creditor into the improvidence of a fresh loan.

Of such a character, under favorable circumstances, and under the influence of controlling prudence, the influence will grow in silence behind the scenes, and gather breadth and depth of power. This view, founded in the facts of Sheridan's life, may not only illustrate the true elevation to which he was at this time raised, and the splendid avenue to fame and power which opened before him, but may account to the reader, both for his advancement in the political arena, and for the obvious preference by which, while more powerful men were held in a specious alliance, he became the friend, adviser, and confidant of the Prince of Wales.

I fell asleep as usual. Such is the beginning of every dream. Yet mine was not all a dream. I found myself, as I thought, after some hours, rubbing my eyes in a strange place. The light was too strong for me, and yet it was not as strong as sunlight. I was lying on the softest and finest turf, by the side of a clear calm stream, and there were mountains near, with some low wood on this side of them. The effect of things can be described, negatively, in one word -unearthly. The landscape was as clear and distinct as day where the light struck; but the shadows were black and abrupt, and no middle tint -no chiaro oscuro could find room to edge itself in as a mediator between the contending principles. Black met white, sheer and sharp, and covered the scene with strong harsh lines, as if they had fortified every inch of space against each other, and were not inclined to leave a single spot of neutral ground.

The stream beside me absolutely burned in the splendour of the luminary that hung above it-a luminary which I could neither identify with sun, moon, nor star. It was a great white ball of light, far exceeding in apparent circumference any of them; and in its colour and intensity only resembled by the blue, diamond-like splendour of some of the fixed stars. If we could imagine Sirius attacked by a fit of curiosity, and advanced a few myriads of leagues to prowl about in the neighbourhood of our system, such, perhaps, might be the appearance of the celestial Paul Pry. The effect was enhanced, too, by the same warfare of light and shade exhibited between it and the sky, as I have described to have tessellated the ground below. The heavens were one black varnished mass-no cloud appearednot a breath of air stirred-no sound was heard.

I begun by saying I rubbed my

Faust.

eyes; but as every one in such a situation rubs his eyes with the idea that by so doing he may make things appear in some sort, manner, or degree different from what they did before the operation, I looked round me again to see if they had represented matters truly at first. But I could perceive no difference. Herbage and foliage were as fine, the mountains as ghostly, the river as much on fire, the sky as pitchy, and the- - what shall I call it? the great white silver salver as large, white, and silver salverish as ever.

I was puzzled, I confess; and as is the case when a man is puzzled by any supernatural phenomenon, my courage began to shew decided symptoms of disaffection. Eneas, and many other worthies of old, were not too wonder-proof to tremble at miracles, so that I feel the less shame in confessing that the usual manifestations of dread began to shew themselves upon me; my hair stood up, my body sweated coldly, and above all, my tongue adhered so fast to the roof of my mouth, that I was unable to utter that wild cry which was ready at the bottom of my lungs, and with which I should certainly have made the solitude ring if I had had the power.

At last my eyes swam, my ears tingled, and I dont know what

became of me.

All things, however, must have an end. Accordingly, I recovered; and as every thing was quite quiet and unchanged round me, I begun to be reconciled to my fate, and to get my reason once more astride upon my imagination, with the reins in its hand.

The first symptom of returning rationality I shewed was to get up on my feet. This, let me say, was an important step. When a man is on his feet, he is as different a being from the same man when on his back, as a warrior in his armour is to his image

nutes.

Quitting the question, however, with Sir Roger de Coverley's sage remark, that 66 much may be said on both sides," I content myself at present with re-asserting the fact, that when I rose up on my feet upon the grass, I felt vigorous and collected, nay, even more capable of exertion, more buoyant than usual, insomuch that I faneled myself like a feather, and imagined I could fly to any distance or soar to any height I pleased. It may be readily conceived that with such sensations I did not wait long before I put my fancied powers to the proof; and I can say with confidence that I never remember exhilaration equal to that which I experienced when I found myself fairly a going, although my progress was without object, aim, or guide. I seemed to spurn the ground, which flew beneath my feet; I imagined that a wish could lift me into the air, and I felt a corresponding exuberance of spirits and enlargement of apprehension, as if my mind were breathing a rarefied atmosphere, and swelled with thought and fancy. One occasionally has had such moments in a weaker degree in ordinary life; and if the poet, orator, or philosopher, should be lucky enough to find himself in such a mood, he would do well to take advantage of it at once, as it is then that he will make the most superhuman strides towards truth and virtue; and besides the visits possess all the other attributes of the angelic

nature.

But my business is narrative, and I return to myself. I moved off, something between walking and being walked, a gait (or a flight) almost involuntary, and which reminded me foreibly of Mr. Von Tram's expedition upon his steam leg, or John Gilpin's more celebrated excursion to Ware. I laughed at the conceit; but to be on the safe side, I put my powers over myself to the test by stopping short, VOL. IX.

It was then that I became sensible of a low and scarcely audible sound of harmony, which seemed to be so much mixed up with the silence, as to be scarcely distinguishable from it, even by the nicest ear. It seemed to take part with the rolling of the orb above, the gliding of the stream, the waving of the grass. They were all, if I may so express myself, in one key, and might be confounded with mere sound in the abstract, as all colours are undistinguishably blended in a ray of light. It seemed as if the chords of nature were strung around me on every side, stretched across the plain, and from the ground to the sky, hung from hill to hill, and from tree to tree, all tuned to perfect concord, and breathed upon by the gentlest breath of the winds. It was the vibration of gossamer in the senses of sylphs, as faint to the ear as that summer garment of creation is to the eye. I held my breath to catch the tone, and thought for one moment that it might be the chorus-hymu of creation, such as that which descended into the soul of the Psalmist as be slept in his youth on the pastures of Bethlehem.

But this was a pause, and an effort. "On, on," every muscle of my frame, every throb of my heart cried; and onward I flew once more across the turf, enjoying the extacy of motion, to me, at the time, more ravishing than the harp of ŒEolus itself.

Oh, what an exquisite thing is locomotion !

Ask the baronet of the Brighton stage; ask the Dutchman on his skates; ask the peer of Melton; ask the aeronautic ex-duke or ex-lessee of the Opera; ask the veriest stoker of a steam carriage, to calculate the amount of his enjoyment when at the top of his speed, multiply the result by ten, and then, perhaps,

no, you cannot have an 'dea of my feelings as I bounded along that turf! Where I was going, or why I was going, never entered my head. I was going; and that was enough. I no more thought of my setting out or of my arrival than if I was a canister shot. I was a passing thing-a flux being-the essence of progress-mot on it elf.

How long I might have continued in this moving condition, it is impossible for me to say. I might, no doubt, have been stopped by an intervening ocean, mountain, or bottomless preci

2 s

pice; but I think no physical obstacle of a less decided nature could have arrested me. On a globe progression is unlimited. A beclareted old gentleman was one night put to the rails by a friend to find his accustomed way home. This friend, however, happening to be a wag, placed him at a circular railing; and the consequence was, that light and morning found the sobering sexagenarian wondering that he had not yet reached his own door. Hence I might have been as long stumping away in the exuberance of my felicity, as Milton suggests Satan might have been falling, had he not been snapped up by the jaws of that unlucky place which has never been able to digest him since.

But all this is more amusing as matter of speculation, than practically important. I was again obliged to insist upon a halt, and after much coaxing and curbing, I did actually succeed in erining in my legs.

#

"Should you not like to see my friend Dryden," said my new acquaintance, as we passed the oustkirts of a little wood; "he is in the garden at the rere of this plantation; and I think he will set us right on the subject as soon as any one; that is, if he does not think proper to act reserve, which he sometimes does, I assure you, most unaccountably"

"By all means, my lord," said I; "let us seek him at once. How fortunate I have been in falling in with such company!"

66

Nay, there you speak like one of the sons of earth. Recollect, you must spiritualize yourself into a complete fellowship with us, at least for the present, or you will lose most of the satisfaction you anticipate. The fact is, we of the moon are on the most perfect equality. None is greater or less than the other. Not only does it evidence some intellectual superiority to be naturalized on its surface at all, but the constitution of our society, in the exclusion of falsehood and assumption, prevents the possibility of interests clashing in any way."

"Then you are the true republic of letters?" said I.

"Just so; all dignities, honours, relations, and offices are literary; connexion consists in affinity of mind, and hostility never extends farther than

Yes, yes; follow me, and I will explain to you by-and-by more of the mysteries of our lunar society. See! is not earth-shine a glorious light?" and he pointed to the silver salver.

"Glorious indeed!" exclaimed I, as I turned my eyes upwards, holding my hands over them, to enable me to endure the excess of splendour; "you scarcely need a sun here."

66

Why, this is our day; when it is near what you of earth would call morning; that is, when the sun is about to appear, which he will do in a few score of hours more, we begin to make ourselves ready for repose. The God stalks across us in too terrific majesty to be looked upon. We retire into caves, and make out the long lunar night as best we may."

"Then you only get the sun at second-hand from us?"

"No more; you have the first of him, no doubt; but you throw him back so softened upon us, that we do not grudge you the direct darting of his fire."

But what do they do at the far side of the moon?"

"Oh, no one knows. It is only the earthy side we have anything to do with. Some of our later arrivals have proposed to undertake an expedition, it is true, in that direction; but I augur little good from their project. An absence of sun and earth must make such regions unfit for us, and hence we have no business to meddle with them. this is just what incites these new philosophers to explore. To be objectless and presumptuous is sufficient to throw an interest round any undertaking."

But

I thought to myself, this is lunar charity.

"The truth is," he continued; "we of the old school, retain a little of the primitive leaven, and even here, where we are sphered in our proper world, we still stick to that part whence we have the best view of the spot we set out from, and the state we begun with. See-look at old England up at yon