Mr Sheridan

Abstract

Thus with an ample share of literary and dramatic reputation, but not certainly of the kind most auspicious for a statesman; with a most slender provision of knowledge at all likely to be useful in political affairs; with a position by birth and profession little suited to command the respect of the most aristocratic country in Europe—the son of an actor, the manager himself of a theatre—he came into that parliament which was enlightened by the vast and various knowledge, as well as fortified and adorned by the more choice literary fame of a Burke, and which owned the sway of consummate orators like Fox and Pitt. His first effort was unambitious, and it was unsuccessful. Aiming at but a low flight, he failed in that humble attempt. An experienced judge, Woodfall,¹ told him ‘It would never do’; and counselled him to seek again the more congenial atmosphere of Drury-lane. But he was resolved that it should do: he had taken his part; and, as he felt the matter was in him, he vowed not to desist till ‘he had brought it out’. What he wanted in acquired learning, and in natural quickness, he made up by indefatigable industry: within given limits, towards a present object, no labour could daunt him; no man could work for a season with more steady and unwearied application.

Lord Henry Brougham, Historical Sketches of Statesmen who Flourished in the Time of George III (London: Charles Knight, 1839), 1st ser., pp. 211–18.