following:--

"--that we may _see_,
Thou art indeed the empress of the _sea_."

It is curious enough that he himself was afterwards guilty of nearly as
illicit a rhyme in his song "When 'tis night," and always defended it:--

"But when the fight's _begun_,
Each serving at his _gun_."

Whatever grounds there may be for referring these labors of Sheridan to
the period of his retirement at Waltham Abbey, there are certainly but
few other intervals in his life that could be selected as likely to have
afforded him opportunities of reading. Even here, however, the fears and
anxieties that beset him were too many and incessant to leave much
leisure for the pursuits of scholarship. However, a state of excitement
may be favorable to the development of genius--which is often of the
nature of those seas, that become more luminous the more they are
agitated,--for a student, a far different mood is necessary; and in
order to reflect with clearness the images that study presents, the mind
should have its surface level and unruffled.

The situation, indeed, of Sheridan was at this time particularly
perplexing. He had won the heart, and even hand, of the woman he loved,
yet saw his hopes of possessing her farther off than ever. He had twice
risked his life against an unworthy antagonist, yet found the
vindication of his honor still incomplete, from the misrepresentations
of enemies, and the yet more mischievous testimony of friends. He felt
within himself all the proud consciousness of genius, yet, thrown on the