was presented against his election, almost as a matter of course in
those days, and his maiden speech was made in defence of the good
burgesses of that quiet little county-town. After making this speech,
which was listened to in silence on account of his reputation as a
dramatic author, but which does not appear to have been very wonderful,
he rushed up to the gallery, and eagerly asked his friend Woodfall what
he thought of it. That candid man shook his head, and told him oratory
was not his forte, Sheridan leaned his head on his hand a moment, and
then exclaimed with vehement emphasis, 'It is in me, however, and, by
Heaven! it shall come out.'

He spoke prophetically, yet not as the great man who determines to
conquer difficulties, but rather as one who feels conscious of his own
powers, and knows that they must show themselves sooner or later.
Sheridan found himself labouring under the same natural obstacles as
Demosthenes--though in a less degree--a thick and disagreeable tone of
voice; but we do not find in the indolent but gifted Englishman that
admirable perseverance, that conquering zeal, which enabled the Athenian
to turn these very impediments to his own advantage. He did, indeed,
prepare his speeches, and at times had fits of that same diligence which
he had displayed in the preparation of 'The School for Scandal;' but his
indolent, self-indulgent mode of life left him no time for such steady
devotion to oratory as might have made him the finest speaker of his
age, for perhaps his natural abilities were greater than those of Pitt,
Fox, or even Burke, though his education was inferior to that of those
two statesmen.

From this time Sheridan's life had two phases--that of a politician, and
that of a man of the world. With the former, we have nothing to do in
such a memoir as this, and indeed it is difficult to say whether it was