"Poor Mr. Linley has been here among us these two months. He is very much broke, but is still a very interesting and agreeable companion. I do not know any one more to be pitied than he is. It is evident that the recollection of past misfortunes preys on his mind,* and he has no comfort in the surviving part of his family, they being all scattered abroad. Mr. Sheridan seems more his child than any one of his own, and I believe he likes being near him and his grand-children." Towards the autumn (as we learn from another letter of this lady) Mr. Sheridan endeavoured to form a domestic establishment for himself at Wanstead. * In the Memoirs of Mrs. Crouch I find the following anecdote:-"Poor Mr. Linley! after the death of one of his sons, when seated at the harpsichord in Drury-Lane theatre, in order to accompany the vocal parts of an interesting little piece taken from Prior's Henry and Emma by Mr. Tickell, and excellently represented by Palmer and Miss Farren,when the tutor of Henry, Mr. Aikin, gave an impressive description of a promising young man, in speaking of his pupil Henry, the feelings of Mr. Linley could not be suppressed. His tears fell fast-nor did he weep alone." In the same work Mrs. Crouch is made to say that, after Miss Maria Linley died, it was melancholy for her to sing to Mr. Linley, whose tears continually fell on the keys as he accompanied her; and if, in the course of her profession, she was obliged to practise a song, which he had been accustomed to hear his lost daughter sing, the similarity of their manners and their voices, which he had once remarked with pleasure, then affected him to such a degree, that he was frequently forced to quit the instrument, and walk about the room to recover his composure. "Wanstead, October 22, 1792. "Your brother has taken a house in this village very near me, where he means to place his dear little girl, to be as much as possible under my protection. This was the dying request of my beloved friend; and the last effort of her mind and pen* was made the day before she expired, to draw up a solemn promise for both of us to sign, to ensure the strict performance of this last awful injunction: so anxious was she to commit this dear treasure to my care, well knowing how impossible it would be for a father, situated as your brother is, to pay that constant attention to her which a daughter so particularly requires. You may be assured I shall engage in the task with the greatest delight and alacrity;-would to God that I were in the smallest * * * * There are some touching allusions to these last thoughts of Mrs. Sheridan, in an Elegy, written by her brother, Mr. William Linley, soon after the news of the sad event reached him in India : "Oh most beloved! my sister and my friend! While kindred woes still breathe around thine urn, Long with the tear of absence must I blend The sigh, that speaks thou never shalt return. "'Twas Faith, that, bending o'er the bed of death, "Thy friends, thy children, claim'd thy latest care; degree qualified to supply the place of that angelic, allaccomplished mother, of whose tender care she has been so early deprived. All I can do for her, I will do; and if I can succeed so far as to give her early and steady principles of religion, and to form her mind to virtue, I shall think my time well employed, and shall feel myself happy in having fulfilled the first wish of her beloved mother's heart. To return to your brother, he talks of having his house here immediately furnished and made ready for the reception of his nursery. It is a very good sort of common house, with an excellent garden, roomy and fit for the purpose, but will admit of no show or expence. I understand he has taken a house in JermynStreet, where he may see company, but he does not intend having any other country-house but this. Isleworth he gives up, his time being expired there. I believe he has got a private tutor for Tom-somebody very much to his mind. At one time he talked of sending him abroad with this gentleman, but I know not at present what his determinations are. He is too fond of Tom's society to let him go from him for any time; but I think it would be more to his advantage if he would consent to part with him for two or three years. It is impossible for any man to be more devotedly attached to his children than he is, and I hope they will be a comfort and a blessing to him when the world loses its charms. The last time I saw him, which was for about five minutes, I thought he looked remarkably well, and seemed tolerably cheerful. But I have observed in general that this affliction has made a wonderful alteration in the ex pression of his countenance and in his manners.* The Leighs and my family spent a week with him at Isleworth the beginning of August, where we were indeed most affectionately and hospitably entertained. I could hardly believe him to be the same man. In fact, we never saw him do the honours of his house before; that, you know, he always left to the dear, elegant creature, who never failed to please and charm every one who came within the sphere of her notice. Nobody could have filled her place so well :-he seemed to have pleasure in making much of those whom she loved and who, he knew, sincerely loved her. We all thought he never appeared to such advantage. He was attentive to every body and every thing, though grave and thoughtful; and his feelings, poor fellow, often ready to break forth in spite of his efforts to suppress them. He spent his evenings mostly by himself. He desired me, when I wrote, to let you know that she had by will made a little distribution of what she called "her own property," and had left you and your sister rings of remembrance, and her fausse montre, containing Mr. Sheridan's picture, to you,†-Mrs. Joseph Lefanu having got hers. She left rings also to Mr. and Mrs. Leigh, my sister, daughter, and myself, and positively forbids any others being given on any pretence, but these I I have heard a Noble friend of Sheridan say that, happening about this time to sleep in the room next to him, he could plainly hear him sobbing throughout the greater part of the night. This bequest is thus announced by Sheridan himself in a letter to his sister, dated June 3, 1794:-" I mean also to send by Miss Patrick a picture which has long been your property, by a bequest from one whose image is not often from my mind, and whose memory, I am sure, remains in yours." have specified,-evidently precluding all her fine friends from this last mark of her esteem and approbation. She had, poor thing, with some justice, turned from them all in disgust, and, I observed, during her illness, never mentioned any of them with regard or kindness.” The consolation which Sheridan derived from his little daughter was not long spared to him. In a letter, without a date, from the same amiable writer, the following account of her death is given : "The circumstances attending this melancholy event were particularly distressing. A large party of young people were assembled at your brother's to spend a joyous evening in dancing. We were all in the height of our merriment, he himself remarkably cheerful, and partaking of the amusement, when the alarm was given that the dear little angel was dying! It is impossible to describe the confusion and horror of the scene: —he was quite frantic, and I knew not what to do. Happily there were present several kind, good-natured men, who had their recollection, and pointed out what should be done. We very soon had every possible assistance, and for a short time we had some hope that her precious life would have been spared to us—but that was soon at an end! "The dear babe never throve to my satisfaction:— she was small and delicate beyond imagination, and gave very little expectation of long life; but she had visibly declined during the last month. Mr. Sheridan made himself very miserable at first, from apprehension that she had been neglected or misma |