The Press.
London, England, 1855-11-03 00:00:00

THE PRESS.

eaters assail great and famous names, is re-
markable. Of the bold and trenchant we shall
take as a specimen the way in which Sheridan
is attacked :

Not even the genius of a Sheridan—
Shepherd : Pshewwhoohoo—the genius o' Sheridan !
Oh, sir, but his comedies are cauldrife compositions ; and
the haill tot of them's no worth the warst " Noctes
Ambrosiante " that ever Maister Gurney, that gentlemen
o' the press, extended frae out o' short haun. His mind
had Leith pint and glitter—but sae has a preen. Sheridan
had but a sma' sowl—and even his oratory was feeble,
false, and fushionless ; and ane o' the auld Covenanters wad
hae rowted him doun intil a silent ceepher on the hillside,
makin him fin' what eloquence is, no made up o' patches
frae ither men's pamphlets, and o' lang accounts and
statements, interlarded wi rancid rant, and faded figures
new dyed like auld claes, that do weed aneuch by cawnle-
light, but look desperate shabby in the daytime—wi' re-
marks, forsooth, on human life and the principles ofEternal
Justice—nae less —o' which the unhappy neerdoweel
kent muckle, nae doubt—having never read a good and
great book a' his days, and associated chiefly with the
vilest o' the vile---_

North : James—What's the meaning of all this ? These
sudden bursts—

Shepherd: I canna thole to hear sic a sot as Sherry aye
climbed wi' Pitt and Burke. _ . .. .

Tickler: Nor I. A couple of clever comedies—a few
elegant epilogues—a so-so opera—some spirited speechi.
I'3 ings—a few fitful flashes—some composed corruscations
of conversational wit—will these make a great man ? Bah !

We do not like the tone of that writing on
Sheridan, though we admit it is in unison
with the opinion of many of those who dis-
paraged the fame of that brilliant person. It
is, indeed, a curious circumstance, as Dr.
Croly has remarked in his " Memoirs of
George the Fourth," that Sheridan owes little
to the good will or generosity of literary men.
Several have deliberately assailed him, and he
has been only weakly defended. He suffered
much from his own follies, and more from the
effects of the miserable biography of him by
Moore. It must not be forgotten, in judging
of such a person, that, besides being an
avowed party man, Sheridan was also a
professed sayer of good things, and the con-
ventional world is apt to echo the remark of
Pascal, "Diseur des bon-mots—mauvais came-
" tire !" He dropped epigrams, wrote squibs,
spoke invectives, and was always ready to
fight a duel with sword or pistol. He was
poor, an actor's son, a notorious adventurer,
andilhad splendid successes. He was the
very man to have a host of enemies in a place
like the town of London, and he had them
with a vengeance. if he stabbed many a
reputation with his tongue, many a fool elan-
pered " Old Sherry," and dropped witless
venom over his grave. When he could no
longer defend himself, his character was dis-
sected with malign ingenuity, and with melan-
choly industry in defamation. His character
was certainly open to many a grave charge.
So was that of other men, who have yet been
allowed to lie at rest in their honoured graves.
There are many passages in the lives of
Edmund Burke and George Canning that
would not bear the examination of those who
insist that Sheridan should have been per-
fection.

Of his talents we can only say that the de-
preciation in the passage quoted above is
ridiculous. Wraxall, Wilberforce, and Lord
Holland, agree in recording the admiration
felt by Pitt for his powers, and it was acknow-
ledged in Parliament. Lord Byron's opinion
of him, as expressed in verse and in con-
versation, is too well known to quote. His ten
minutes' speech on the " Mutiny at the Nore,"
" What, will you falter now, and eclipse in a
" week three centuries of glory ft" cowed the
factious and electrified the wavering. Nor does
North do common critical justice to his style.
In his speeches, as in his plays, the nearly
lost art of finish is conspicuous ; and we doubt
whether its value is appreciated by the school
of writers to which the dashing composers of
the " Noctes " belonged.

The true point of view from which Sheridan
should bo regarded is that of " a man of the
world "—neithoi better nor much worse than
the men of his generation. No other public
character from so low a level rose to such high
personal distinction. Ile had at the start
literally to write for his bread in the journals
of the time. He had not the advantage of an
university education or connection like Burke
and Canning, nor had he even as good per-
sonal connections as they had. Yet he rose
to be a foremost orator is thil brightest days

SATURDAX;

of the House of Commons ; for twenty years
he was a secret counsellor of royalty in oppo.
sition ; he tried to save his party from its
greatest errors—the Coalition of 1783.4, and
its philo-Jacobinism in 1792 ; he gallantly
defended its banner when deserted by ak van
a few ; and for thirty years in London town
the name of Brinsley Sheridan was identified
with triumphs on the stage, in society, and in
the Senate? And could that have been done
by a clever impostor?
But it is rather amusing, after such an out-
burst against Sheridan in the first, to find
" four generations of genius " in the Sheridan
family extolled in another part of the " Noctes."
Thus Mrs Norton is celebrated :
Shepherd: Wha's she, that Mrs. Norton, that wrote tho
" Sorrows o' Rosalie?"

North : Daughter of poor dear Tom Sheridan, who was
indeed a star. Four generations of genius !—She is, lam
told, even more beautiful tban—
Shepherd : Her poetry? Thatill no be easy, sn—for
there's a saftneas and a sweetness, and a brielituess, and,
aboon a', an indefinite, and indescribable, and undefinable,
and unintelligible, general, vague, dim, fieetin speerit o'
feminine sympathy and attraction—Na, na, MI, these are no
the richt words ava—s celestial atmosphere o' the balm o' a
thousand flowers, especially lilies and roses, pinks, canter
tious, violets, honeysuckle, and sweet-brier---an intermingled
mawgic of the sweetest scents of natur—heaven mid earth
breathin upon ane anither's faces and breasts--hangin
ower yon bit pathetic poem " Rosalie," that inclines ane
to remember the fair young lady who wrote it iu his
prayers!

And there is much more to the same kind.

The large amount of haphazard opinion-
ativeness running through all these papers
makes it difficult to see what North's real
meaning was, especially as we find praise and
dispraise lavished on the same persons in
different places. The convivial in many
passages overpowers the critical, and all
through Christopher's assertions must be
read cum grano. Surely the praise dealt out to
the Scotch writers in the following passage is
exaggerated :

Beattie was a delightful poet—that Mr. Wordsworth well
knows—and, Mr. Alison excepted, the best writer on lite-
rature and the tine arts Britain ever produced—full of
feeling and full of genius. Eames was " gleg as ony
wunnule," and, considering his multifarious studies, the
author of the " Elements of Criticism " is not to be
sneezed at—he was no weed—a real rough bur-thistle, and
that is not a weed, but a flue bold national flower. As la
Dr. Blair, his sermons—full of truth, and must elegantly,
simply, and beautifully written—will live thousands of
years after much of our present pompous preaching is dead
and buried, and forgotten ; and though his " Lectures on
the Belles Lettres" are a compilation, they are informed
by a spirit dins own—pure and graceful,—and though the
purity and the grace are greater than the power and the
originality, he who thinks them stupid must be an ass---:
and let him bray ag:iinst the Doctor " till he stretch his
leathern ooat almost to bursting."

The recent comparison between " the High.
laud Brigade" and the Tenth Legion of User,
is scarcely more exaggerated than such lauds,
tion. We may observe that the " Elements of
Criticism" is not the best work of Lord+
Karnes. His " Sketches of Man " is far more
original and profound, and is a singularll•
interesting discussion of some of the " specula-
tive " questions so much debated in the north.
But, like the sermons of Blair, the " Sketches •
do not sufficiently record the pravity of Ole
human heart.
On Burke's firsebook we find North going
into heroics after this fashion :

The " Treatise on the Sublime and 13eautiful"—thougli
written when Ned was a mere boy—shows a noble mind,
clutching at all times at the truth, and often grasping it for
a moment, though, like celestial quicksilver, it evanishes
out of hand. Of voluptuous animal beauty, the illustrious
Irishman had that passionate sense—nor unprofound—with
which nature has gifted the spirit of all Ins race. And he
had a soul that could rise up from languishment oil
Beauty's lap, and aspire to the brows of the sublime. His
juvenile essay contains some splendid—some magnificent
passages; and, with all its imperfections, defects, std
failures, may be platted among the highest attempts made
by the human mind to cross the debateable land that lies
between the kingdoms of Feeling and of Thought, of Setae
and Imagination.

Vehement words, truly ! But there arc SO
many other persons written about with similar
raptures, that it is hard to know whether
Christopher means half of what ho says. lie
plasters all the literary craft after the follow-
ing fashion, taking care to insinuate some
humorous irony :
North: Oar current periodic-al literature teems with
thought and feeling, Jaines,—with passion and imagination.
There was Gifford, and there arc Jeffrey, and Southey, and
Oampbell, and Moore, anti Bowles, and Sir Walter, and
Lockhart, and Lamb, and Wilson, and De Quincey, and.
the four. Coleridge., 8. T. C., John; klertirb Ind Derwellto