as gone, they burst out afresh,
wilder than ever.

[9: Lord Edward Fitzgerald was one of the most devoted of her admirers:
he chose his wife, Pamela, because she resembled Mrs. Sheridan.--See
Moore's Life of Lord Edward.]

For a while after these afflictions, which were soon completed in the
death of his most intimate friend and boyish companion, Tickell,
Sheridan threw himself again into the commotion of the political world.
But in this we shall not follow him. Three years after the death of his
first wife he married again. He was again fortunate in his choice.
Though now forty-four, he succeeded in winning the heart of a most
estimable and charming young lady with a fortune of L5,000. She must
indeed have loved or admired the widower very much to consent to be the
wife of a man so notoriously irregular, to use a mild term, in his life.
But Sheridan fascinated wherever he went, and young ladies like 'a
little wildness.' His heart was always good, and where he gave it, he
gave it warmly, richly, fully. His second wife was Miss Esther Jane
Ogle, daughter of the Dean of Winchester. She was given to him on
condition of his settling in all L20,000, upon her--a wise proviso with
such a spendthrift--and he had to raise the money, as usual.

His political career was sufficiently brilliant, though his real fame as
a speaker rests on his great oration at Hastings' trial. In 1806 he
satisfied another point of his ambition, long desired, and was elected
for the city of Westminster, which he had ardently coveted when Fox
represented it. But a dissolution threw him again on the mercy of the
popular party; and again he offered himself for Westminster: but, in
spite of all the efforts made for him, without success. He was returned,
instead, for Ilchester.

Meanwhile his difficulties increased; extravagance, debt, want of energy
to meet both, brought him speedily into that position when a man accepts
without hesitation the slightest offer of aid. The man who had had an
income of L15,000 a year, and settled L20,000 on his wife, allowed a
poor friend to pay a bill for L5 for him, and clutched eagerly at a L50
note when displayed to him by another. Extravagance is the father of
meanness, and Sheridan was often mean in the readiness with which he
accepted offers, and the anxiety with which he implored assistance. It
is amusing in the present day to hear a man talk of 'a debt of honour,'
as if all debts did not demand honour to pay them