On the 12th of June the Parliament was dissolved,—and Mr. Sheridan again succeeded in being elected for Stafford. The following letters, however, addressed to him by Mrs. Sheridan during the election, will prove that they were not without some apprehensions of a different result. The letters are still more interesting, as showing how warmly alive to each other's feelings the hearts of both husband wife could remain, after the long lapse of near twenty years, and after trials more fatal to love than even time itself.
"This letter will find you, my dear Dick. I hope, encircled with honors at Stafford. I take it for granted you entered it triumphantly on Sunday, —but I am very impatient to hear the particulars, and of the utter discomfiture of S—— and his followers. I received your note from Birmingham this morning, and am happy to find that you and my dear cub were well, so far on your journey. You could not be happier than I should be in the proposed alteration for Tom, but we will talk more of this when we meet. I sent you Cartwright yesterday, and to-day I pack you off Perry with the soldiers. I was obliged to give them four guineas for their expenses. I send you, likewise, by Perry, the note from Mrs. Crewe, to enable you to speak of your qualification if you should be called upon. So I think I have executed all your commissions, Sir; and if you want any of these doubtful votes which I mentioned to you, you will have time enough to send for them, for I would not let them go till I hear they can be of any use.
"And, now for my journal, Sir, which I suppose you expect. Saturday, I was at home all day busy for you,—kept Mrs. Reid to dinner,—went to the Opera,—afterwards to Mrs. St. John's, where I lost my money sadly, Sir,—eat strawberries and cream for supper,—sat between Lord Salisbury and Mr. Meynell, (hope you approve of that, Sir,)—overheard Lord Salisbury advise Miss Boyle by no means to subscribe to Taylor's Opera, as O'Reilly's would certainly have the patent,—confess I did not come home till past two. Sunday, called on Lady Julia,—father and Mr. Reid to dinner,—in the evening at Lady Hampden's,—lost my money again, Sir, and came home by one o'clock. 'Tis now near one o'clock,—my father is established in my boudoir, and, when I have finished this, I am going with him to hear Abbé Vogler play on the Stafford organ. I have promised to dine with Mrs. Crewe, who is to have a female party only,—no objection to that, I suppose. Sir? Whatever the party do, I shall do of course,—I suppose it will end in Mrs. Hobart's. Mr. James told me on Saturday, and I find it is the report of the day, that Bond Hopkins has gone to Stafford. I am sorry to tell you there is an opposition at York, Mr. Montague opposes Sir Willam Milner. Mr. Beckford has given up at Dover, and Lord ** is so provoked at it, that he has given up too, though they say they were both sure. St. Ives is gone for want of a candidate. Mr. Barham is beat at Stockbridge. Charles Lenox has offered for Surry, and they say Lord Egremont might drive him to the deuce, if he would set any body up against him. You know, I suppose, Mr. Crewe has likewise an opponent. I am sorry to tell you all this bad news, and, to complete it, Mr. Adam is sick in bed, and there is nobody to do any good left in town.
"I am more than ever convinced we must look to other resources for wealth and independence, and consider politics merely as an amusement,—and in that light 'tis best to be in Opposition, which I am afraid we are likely to be for some years again.
"I see the rumors of war still continue—Stocks continue to fall—is that good or bad for the Ministers? The little boys are come home to me to-day. I could not help showing in my answer to Mr. T's letter, that I was hurt at his conduct,—so I have got another flummery letter, and the boys, who (as he is pretty sure) will be the best peace-makers. God bless you, my dear Dick. I am very well, I assure you; pray don't neglect to write to your ever affectionate
"E. S."
"MY DEAREST DICK,
"Wednesday.
"I am full of anxiety and fright about you.—I cannot but think your letters are very alarming. Deuce take the Corporation! is it impossible to make them resign their pretensions, and make peace with the Burgesses? I have sent Thomas after Mr. Cocker. I suppose you have sent for the out-votes; but, if they are not good, what a terrible expense will that be!—however, they are ready. I saw Mr. Cocker yesterday,—he collected them together last night, and gave them a treat,—so they are in high good humor. I inclose you a letter which B. left here last night,—I could not resist opening it. Every thing seems going wrong. I think. I thought he was not to do anything in your absence.—It strikes me the bad business he mentions was entirely owing to his own stupidity, and want of a little patience,—is it of much consequence? I don't hear that the report is true of Basilico's arrival;—a messenger came to the Spanish embassy, which gave rise to this tale, I believe.
"If you were not so worried, I should scold you for the conclusion of your letter of to-day. Might not I as well accuse you of coldness, for not filling your letter with professions, at a time when your head must be full of business? I think of nothing all day long, but how to do good, some how or other, for you. I have given you a regular Journal of my time, and all to please you,—so don't, dear Dick, lay so much stress on words. I should use them oftener, perhaps, but I feel as if it would look like deceit. You know me well enough, to be sure that I can never do what I'm bid, Sir,—but, pray, don't think I meant to send you a cold letter, for indeed nothing was ever farther from my heart.