Often were his addresses to his constituents interrupted by the tumult
that arose from the anxiety of the public to get within hearing of him.
A person, mounted on horseback, had penetrated to the very centre of the
crowd, with more regard for himself than consideration towards others,
as the animal he rode, affrighted by the noise, became equally annoying
and dangerous to those by whom he was surrounded. The outcry was
excessive, and, while some strove to appease the clamour, others urged
Sheridan to proceed. "Gentlemen," replied he to the latter, "when the
_chorus of the horse and his rider_ is finished, I shall commence."

His good humour was at no time disturbed during the election, although
the observations of his noble Caledonian opponent manifested no amicable
disposition towards the orator. As it terminated, a mutual friend of the
rival candidates expressed a hope that, with the contest, all animosity
should cease; and that the gallant officer should drown the memory of
differences in a friendly bottle. "With all my heart," said Sheridan,
"and will thank his lordship to make it _a Scotch pint_."

His treatment of Coleridge, the poet, who had submitted a tragedy to his
managerial decision, was wholly unmerited by the author, the success of
whose piece subsequently so well justified the better claims it had on
Sheridan's attention. In the cavern scene, where the silence of the
place is presumed to be only broken by the slow dropping of the water
from its vault, Sheridan, in reading it to his friends, repeated the
words of one of the characters, in a solemn tone, "Drip! drip! drip!"
adding, "Why, here's nothing but _dripping_:" but the story is told by
Coleridge himself, in the preface to his tragedy, with that good humour
and frankness becoming one sensible of his powers, and conscious that
the witty use of an unfortunate expression (were it such) could but