man that shall discompose his muscles from the begin

ning to the end.

"M. But don't you think it may be too grave?

66

S. O never fear; and as for hissing, mon, they might as well hiss the common prayer-book; for there is the viciousness of vice and the virtuousness of virtue in every third line.

"M. I confess there is a great deal of moral in it; but, Sir, I should imagine if you tried your hand at tragedy

"S. No, mon, there you are out, and I'll relate to you what put me first on writing a comedy. You must know I had composed a very fine tragedy about the valiant Bruce. I showed it my Laird of Mackintosh, and he was a very candid mon, and he said my genius did not lie in tragedy: I took the hint, and, as soon as I got home, began my comedy. '

We have here some of the very thoughts and words that afterwards contributed to the fortune of Puff; and it is amusing to observe how long this subject was played with by the current of Sheridan's fancy, till at last, like “ a stone of lustre from the brook," it came forth with all that smoothness and polish which it wears in his inimitable farce, The Critic. Thus it is, too, and but little to the glory of what are called our years of discretion, that the life of the man is chiefly employed in giving effect to the wishes and plans of the boy.

Another of their projects was a Periodical Miscellany, the idea of which originated with Sheridan, and whose first embryo movements we trace

in a letter to him from Mr. Lewis Ker, who undertook with much good nature the negotiation of the young author's literary concerns in London. The letter is dated 30th of October, 1770.-" As to your intended periodical paper, if it meets with success, there is no doubt of profit accruing, as I have already engaged a publisher of established reputation to undertake it for the account of the authors. But I am to indemnify him in case it should not sell, and to advance part of the first expense, all which I can do without applying to Mr Ewart."-"I would be glad to know what stock of papers you have already written, as there ought to be ten or a dozen at least finished before you print any, in order to have time to prepare the subsequent numbers, and ensure a continuance of the work. As to the coffee-houses, you must not depend on their taking it in at first, except you go on the plan of the Tatler, and give the news of the week. For the first two or three weeks the expense of advertising will certainly prevent any profit being made. But when that is a thousand are sold weekly, you may over, if reckon on receiving 57. clear. One paper a-week will do better than two. Pray say no more as to our accounts."

The title intended by Sheridan for this paper was "Hernan's Miscellany," to which his friend Halhed objected, and suggested "The Reformer," as a newer and more significant name.

But,

though Halhed appears to have sought among his Oxford friends for an auxiliary or two in their weekly labours, this meditated Miscellany never proceeded beyond the first number, which was written by Sheridan, and which I have found among his papers. It is too diffuse and pointless to be given entire; but an extract or two from it will not be unwelcome, to those who love to trace even the first, feeblest beginnings of genius.

HERNAN'S MISCELLANY.

No. I.

́ ́ ́I will sit down and write for the good of the people

for (said I to myself, pulling off my spectacles, and drinking up the remainder of my sixpen'worth) it cannot be but people must be sick of these same rascally politics. All last winter nothing but-God defend me! 'tis tiresome to think of it.' I immediately flung the pamphlet down on the table, and taking my hat and cane walked out of the coffee-house.

"I kept up as smart a pace as I could all the way home, for I felt myself full of something, and enjoyed my own thoughts so much, that I was afraid of digesting them, lest any should At last I knocked at my escape me. own door. So!' said I to the maid who opened it, (for I never would keep a man; not, but what I could afford it however, the reason is not material now,) So!' said I with an unusual smile upon my face, and immediately sent her for a quire of paper and half a hundred of pens-the only thing I had absolutely determined on in my way from the coffee-house. I had now got seated in my arm-chair,—I am an infirm old

VOL. I.

3

man, and I live on a second floor,—when I began to ruminate on my project. The first thing that occurred to me (and certainly a very natural one) was to examine my common-place book. So I went to my desk and took out my old faithful red-leather companion, who had long discharged the office of treasurer to all my best hints and memorandums: but, how was I surprised, when one of the first things that struck my eyes was the following memorandum legibly written, and on one of my best sheets of vellum : - • Mem. Oct. 20th, 1769, left the Grecian, after having read ——'s Poems, with a determined resolution to write a Periodical Paper, in order to reform the vitiated taste of the age; but coming home and finding my fire out, and my maid gone abroad, was obliged to defer the execution of my plan to another opportunity.' Now though this event had absolutely slipped my memory, I now recollected it perfectly,―ay, so my fire was out indeed, and my maid did go abroad sure enough. 'Good Heavens !' said I, how great events depend upon little circumstances! However, I looked upon this as a memento for me no longer to trifle away my time and resolution; and thus I began to reason, I mean, I would have reasoned, had I not been interrupted by a noise of some one coming up stairs. By the alternate thump upon the steps, I soon discovered it must be my old and intimate friend Rudliche.

6

·

*

“But, to return, in walked Rudliche.—‘So, Fred.'— So, Bob.'- Were you at the Grecian to-day?'

'I just stepped in.’

-

· Well,

there was no news.' Now, as Bob and I saw one another

almost every day, we seldom abounded in conversation;

so, having settled one material point, he sat in his usual posture, looking at the fire and beating the dust out of his wooden leg, when I perceived he was going to touch upon the other subject; but, having by chance cast his eye on my face, and finding (I suppose) something extraordinary in my countenance, he immediately dropped all concern for the weather, and putting his hand into his pocket (as if he meant to find what he was going to say, under pretence of feeling for his tobacco-box), 'Hernan! (he began) why, man, you look for all the world as if you had been thinking of something.'-'Yes,' replied I, smiling (that is, not actually smiling, but with a conscious something in my face), 'I have, indeed, been thinking a little.'—'What, is't a secret?'' Oh, nothing very material.' Here ensued a pause, which I employed in considering whether I should reveal my scheme to Bob; and Bob in trying to disengage his thumb from the string of his cane, as if he were preparing to take his leave. This latter action, with the great desire I had of disburthening myself, made me instantly resolve to lay my whole plan before him. Bob,' said I (he immediately quitted his thumb), you remarked that I looked as if I had been thinking of something,— your remark is just, and I'll tell you the subject of my thought. You know, Bob, that I always had a strong passion for literature : — you have often seen my collection of books, not very large indeed; however I believe I have read every volume of it twice over (excepting's Divine Legation of Moses, and -'s Lives of the most notorious Malefactors), and I am now determined to profit by them.' I concluded with a very significant nod; but, good heavens! how mortified was I to find both my speech and my nod thrown away,