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DIARY AND LETTERS OF
MADAME D'ARBLAY

(1778 TO JUNE 1781)

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DIARY ar LETTERS

MADAME D'ARBLAY

(l778-l840)

AS EDITED BY HER NIECE

CHARLOTTE BARRETT

WITH PREFACE AND NOTES

AUSTIN DOBSON

^ */<//* &

IN SIX VOLUMES
VOL. I

Hontiott

MACMILLAN AND CO., Limited

NEW YORK : THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1904

v ■

32>lfe
I*} oil*

THE VENERABLE

CHARLES BURNEY

ARCHDEACON OF KINGSTON-ON-THAMES, AND
VICAR OF ST. MARK'S, SURB1TON

THIS EDITION OF THE

DIARY AND LETTERS

OF HIS RELATIVE

MADAME D'ARBLAY

WITH HIS PERMISSION
RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED

"The spirit walks or every day deceased." — Young.

[Mrs. Barrett's motto. ]

" Ir she [Mme. D'Arblay] recorded with minute diligence all the
compliments, delicate and coarse, which she heard wherever she
turned, she recorded them for the eyes of two or three persons
who had loved her from infancy, who had loved her in obscurity,
and to whom her fame gave the purest and most exquisite delight.
Nothing can be more unjust than to confound these outpourings
of a kind heart, sure of perfect sympathy, with the egotism of
a blue-stocking, who prates to all who come near her about her
own novel or her own volume of sonnets." — Macaulay {Edinburgh
Review, January 1843, p. 539).

PEEFACE

This edition of the Diary and Letters, 1778-
1840, of Frances or Fanny Burney, afterwards
Madame D'Arblay, is based on the seven volumes
issued by Henry Colburn in 1842-46. Of the first
two of these volumes, there are two impressions,
one being fuller than the other. The title-pages
give no indication of difference ; and the only
thing in the nature of a reference to such differ-
ence is a notification prefixed to the General
Index in the last volume, announcing disin-
genuously that "the second impression of Vols. I.
and II. differs from the first in the arrangement
of the pages " ; and further, that " the Index is
made in accordance with the first." In the
present edition the first impression of these two
volumes has been followed, and the passages
omitted from the second impression have been
placed between square brackets. There is nothing
to suggest why they were left out ; and as they

are here restored, it is needless to put forward

vii a 2

viii PREFACE

any theory in order to account for their with-
drawal. The other circumstances connected with
the first appearance of the book are fully explained
in the " Editor's Introduction."

The Appendices to the volumes — here arranged
as six instead of seven — are new, and consist of
unpublished letters, or extracts from other sources,
which were too lengthy to be included in the
Notes.

The Notes, with rare exceptions, generally
specified, have been written for this edition.
The Editor of 1842-46, Mrs. Charlotte Francis
Barrett, had appended to six of her volumes some
three or four pages of "Biographical Notes,"
which, at the date of their publication, were
doubtless adequate. But they are now more
than fifty years old ; and it seemed expedient to
substitute for them here Notes which should be
at once more modern, more numerous, and not
exclusively biographical. In those now offered to
the public, conciseness has been attentively con-
sidered. While such modest aids to identification
as dates of birth and death have not been dis-
dained, it has been held that to give some idea of
the position or achievement of the persons named
at the precise moment when they come under
the pen of the Diarist, is more useful than to

PREFACE ix

recount their histories from the cradle to the
grave. As to Notes which are not biographical,
and which relate to places, books, quotations,
occurrences, and so forth, it is hoped that the
particulars supplied will sufficiently meet the
requirements of the reader.

The Illustrations, consisting of Portraits, Views,
Autographs, and Plans, have been carefully chosen.
In all cases an attempt has been made to secure
those only which are either actually mentioned in
the text, or are nearly contemporary with that
text ; and full information respecting them will be
found in the Lists of Illustrations, or at the foot
of the illustrations themselves.

An Index accompanies each volume, and this,
in Volume VI., takes the form of a General
Index.

Thanks are due, and are hereby tendered, to
the following persons : — to Archdeacon Burney,
Vicar of St. Mark's, Surbiton, for information,
autographs, and assistance generally ; to Mr.
F. Leverton Harris, M.P., of Camilla Lacey,
Dorking, for information, autographs, and illus-
trations ; to Mr. William Bousfield, of Fairfield,
Great Bookham, for information and permission to
photograph the cottage in which Madame D'Arblay
lived for four years ; to Mr. Arthur C. Benson,

x PREFACE

for permission to photograph Mrs. Delanys house
at Windsor; to Messrs. George Bell and Sons,
for permission to make use of the Early Diary
of Frances Burney, published by them in 1889 ;
and lastly (though not for the first time), to Mr.
Henry R. Tedder, the Secretary and Librarian of
the Athenaeum Club, for valuable aid and sympa-
thetic suggestion. Nor must acknowledgment be
omitted to Mr. Emery Walker for the untiring
interest he has taken in the procuring and pre-
paring of the Illustrations ; and to Mr. R. J. Lister
for kindly undertaking to compile the Indexes.

Austin Dobson.

75 Eaton Rise, Ealing, W.,
October 1904.

CONTENTS

PART I

1778

PA'

The publication of Evelina — Its designs and objects — Secrecy of its
publication — Letter from the publisher — Alarm of the writer at
being known — Awkward predicament — Critiques on Evelina —
Mr. Crisp — Evelina read by Dr. Burney — His discovery of its
author — Dr. Johnson — Letters from Miss Burney to her father
— Mrs. Thrale — Astonishing success of Evelina — Disclosure of
its authorship to her mother — Mrs. Cholmondeley — Mrs. Thrale
— Mr. Lowndes — Letters from Miss Burney to her sister — Dr.
Johnson — Miss Burney's feelings on her unlooked-for success
as an authoress — Guesses as to the writer of Evelina — Diary
resumed — Dr. Burney acquaints Mrs. Thrale with the secret —
Singular position of the writer — Letter of Mrs. Thrale —
Madame Riccoboni— Dr. Johnson reads Evelina — His opinion
of it — Anna Williams — Invitation to Streatham — The author's
alarm at meeting the literary circle there — Great profits of the
publisher — First visit to Streatham — Her reception by the
Thrales — Mrs. Thrale's admiration of Evelina — She describes
Dr. Johnson's imitating characters in Evelina- -Mr. Se ward-
First introduction to Dr. Johnson — His conversation — Garrick
— His prologues and epilogues — Garrick and Wilkes — Wear
and tear of the face— Sir John Hawkins — An "unclubable
man " — A mean couple — Sir Joshua Reynolds — He sits up all
night to read Evelina — Miss Burney visits Mr. Lowndes —
His account of the author of Evelina — Secret history — Letters
from Mr. Crisp— Anecdote of Quin the actor . . .21

PART II

1778

Streatham Journal resumed— Character of Mr. Thrale— -Dr. John-
son— Country neighbours — Bennet Langton— Character of Mrs.
Thrale— Table-talk of Dr. Johnson— Eccentricities of the Cum-
berland family — Dr. Johnson and Richard Cumberland— More
table-talk of Dr. Johnson— Anecdotes of the Cumberland
family— Mrs. Montagu and Bet Flint— The female wits— Mrs.

xii CONTENTS

PAGE

Pinkethman— Mrs. Rudd— Kitty Fisher— An election dinner—
/Dr. Johnson — Anecdote of his rudeness — His Lives of the Poets
— Mrs. Charlotte Lennox — The author of Hermes — Learned
ladies— Johnson's opinion of them — Richardson— Fielding —
Murphy — Mr. Lort — Cumberland — Seward — Chatterton — The
perils of popularity — Hannah More — Dr. Johnson's harsh treat-
ment of her ....... 65

PART III

1778

Anecdotes of Johnson — A dinner at Streatham — Sir Joshua
Reynolds — Mystification — Dr. Calvert — Mrs. Cholmondeley —
Edmund Burke — His opinion of Evelina — Mrs. Montagu —
Dr. Johnson's household — A collection of oddities — A poor
scholar — The Lives of the Poets — Visit of Mrs. Montagu to
Streatham — Johnson's opinion of her — Character of Johnson's
conversation — His compliments and rebuffs — Table-talk of
Johnson, Mrs. Montagu, and Mrs. Thrale — The value of
critical abuse— Dr. Johnson's severe speeches — " Civil for four "
— Dr. Johnson and Goldsmith — Dr. Jebb — Match-making —
Critics and authors — Letter from Mr. Crisp — Mr. Seward — A
grand dinner at Streatham — High heels — Table-talk— The
distinctions of rank — Irene — Hannah More — Her play — Letter
from Mr. Crisp — How to write a comedy . . . 101

PART IV

1779

Diary resumed — Pacchierotti — Description of his singing — Bertoni
— Giardini — Piozzi — An adventure — Dr. Francklin — Letters
from Mrs. Thrale and Mr. Crisp — Remonstrance on false deli-
cacy— Difficulties of dramatic writing — Dancing in fetters —
How to use advice — Miss Burney's views on comedy — Female
authorship — Letter from Miss Burney to Mr. Crisp — The pains
of publicity — Diary resumed — Sir Joshua Reynolds — Mason,
the poet — Visit from Dr. Johnson — Mrs. Thrale — Visit to Sir
Joshua Reynolds — Mrs. Horneck and Mrs. Bunbury — Lord
Palmerston — Mrs. Cholmondeley — A scene — Cross-examination
— A dialogue — The knight of Plympton — Visit to Streatham —
Dr. Johnson — Mr. Seward — Dr. Burney — Fair and brown — A
dialogue with Dr. Johnson — Books and authors — Table-talk
between Johnson, Mrs. Thrale, and Miss Burney — Evelina —
Mrs. Montagu — Three classes of critics on books — Miss
Burney's anxiety to avoid notice as an author — Mrs.
Cholmondeley — Lord Palmerston — Visit to Dr. Johnson —
Mr. Seward— Lady Miller's vase— Baretti— Visit to Mrs.
Cholmondeley — A party of wits and fashionables — The
beautiful Mrs. Sheridan — Mrs. Crewe — Pacchierotti 's singing
— The Duke of Dorset and Miss Cumberland — Hannah More
— Her habit of flattering her friends — The Earl of Harcourt —

CONTENTS xiii

PAGE

Mrs. Vesey — R. B. Sheridan — His personal appearance and
manner — Dr. Joseph Warton — Sheridan's opinion of Evelina —
The Sylph — Dialogue between Sheridan, Miss Burney, Sir
Joshua Reynolds, and Mrs. Cholmondeley — Miss Burney
urged by Sheridan to write a comedy . . . .154

PART V

1779

Diary resumed — Mrs. Thrale and Dr. Johnson— Sir Philip Clerke—
Whigs and Tories — A political discussion — Liberality of Dr.
Johnson — Murphy, the dramatist — He urges Miss Burney to
write a comedy — Table-talk between Johnson, Murphy, Mrs.
Thrale, and Miss Burney — Country neighbours — Goldsmith —
Tears at will — Letter from Miss Burney to Mr. Crisp — The
Maecenases of the day — Diary resumed — Visit to Brighton —
Brighton society in 17T9 — A grand dinner-party — A character
— The Bishop of Peterborough — An evening party — Wealth
and ennui — Queen Dido — News from home — An order from
headquarters — Military discipline — Captain Crop — Dr. Delap —
Mr. Murphy — Cross-examination — The Bishop of Winchester
— Return to Streatham — Illness of Mr. Thrale — Sir Philip
Clerke — Evelina — A learned lady — Table-talk — Tears at will —
The man of indifference — Taste in dress — Raillery— Affectation
—Candide — Pococurante — Dr. Middieton — A weeping beauty
— Table-talk — Intended journey to Spa — Projected comedy —
A scene — Ennui — Sir Richard Jebb — Lady Anne Lindsay —
Learned ladies — Dr. Johnson . . . . .198

PART VI

1779

xiv CONTENTS

PAGE

Topham Beauclerk— Lady Di Beauclerk— Mrs. Musters — A
mistake — Lady Pembroke — Scenes in a ball-room — How to
put down impertinence — A provincial company — Dryden's
Tempest — Cumberland — Singular anecdotes of him — His hatred
of all contemporary authors — Scene with him and Mrs. Thrale
in a ball-room — A singular character— Table-talk — Mystification
— A solemn coxcomb — Dr. Johnson — Sir Joshua Reynolds —
Price of his portraits — Artists and actors — Garrick — Fifty
pounds for a song — Learned ladies — Married life — A lordly
brute — Physicians and patients — Single -speech Hamilton —
The humours of a newspaper — Odd names — A long story —
Letter from Miss Burney to Mr. Crisp — Character and objects
of her Journal ....... 248

PART VII

1780

Miss Burney to Mr. Crisp — The troubles of popularity — Ladies'
dress — Miss Burney 's comedy of The Witlings — Sheridan's
application to her — Plot and characters of The Witlings — Lord
Sandwich — Captain Cook — His death — Hon. Capt. Walsingham
— George III. and the navy — Dr. Hunter — Dr. Solander —
Murphy — His oddities — Table-talk — Mr. Crisp to Miss Burney
— Excellent advice about her comedy — Colley Cibber — Journal
resumed — Pacchierotti — Journey to Bath — The Lawrence
family at Devizes — The late President of the Royal Academy
at ten years of age — Mr. W. Hoare — Arrival at Bath — Descrip-
tion of the place and company — Parties — Lady Miller's vase —
Mrs. Montagu— The theatre— The Bowdler family— Dr. Wood-
ward— Dr. Harrington — Mrs. Byron — Lord Mulgrave — The
Hon. Augustus Phipps — Table-talk — Anecdotes of the late
General Phipps — Illustrations of Evelina — Dr. Johnson — The
Provost of Eton — Bath Society — Dean of Ossory — Mrs.
Montagu— A witling — Mrs. Montagu and Mrs. Thrale con-
trasted— Letter from Mr. Crisp — The Duchess of Marlborough
— A Scotch bishop — Duchess of Portland — Colley Cibber —
Sheridan — Bath — Journal resumed — Lord Mulgrave — The
Bowdler family — The Byrons — A pleasant meeting — A mistake
— An evening party — A pretty poet — Mrs. Siddons as " Belvi-
dera" — A pink-and-white poet — Anstey, author of the New
Bath Guide ........ 313

PART VIII

1780

CONTENTS Xv

family— Anstey — Bishop of Peterborough— A bishop's lady —
The Duchess of Devonshire— Lady Spencer— Lord Mulgrave
—Sea captains— Younger brothers— A mistake— Bath gossips
— Anecdotes of Abyssinian Bruce — The Bo wdler family— Table-
talk — Admiral Byron — Mrs. Cholmley — An evening party —
Anstey — Lady Miller — An agreeable rattle— A private concert
— An accident — Lord Althorpe — A Bath beau— Lord Hunting-
don— Lord Mulgrave — The Bishop of Peterborough — Mrs.
Elizabeth Carter — Ferry's folly — A singular collation — An
evening party — A public breakfast — A singular character —
A female misanthrope — The results of Hume's Essays — Love
and suicide — Beattie versus Bolingbroke — The Belvidere —
Anecdote of Lord Mulgrave — A Bath ball — Love-making —
Chit-chat — Blue-stockings — Flirtation — A good match— Mrs.
Thrale — Match-making— The dangers of levity . . . 355

PART IX

1780

Bath diary resumed — A dinner-party — Raillery — Flirtation — The
Bath theatre — Bath actors — The Abbey Church — Garrick and
Quin — Morning calls — Curiosity — The Dean of Ossory — Beau
Travell — Family quarrels — An oddity — Bath Easton — Female
admiration — Miss Bowdler — A female sceptic — A baby critic —
Lord George Gordon — The No-Popery riots — Danger of Mr.
Thrale from the riots — Precipitate retreat — Letters from Miss
Burney — Public excitement — Riots at Bath — Salisbury — Mr.
Thrale 's house attacked — Letters from Dr. Burney and Mrs.
Thrale — Description of the riots — Brighton society — Con-
clusion of the riots — Letters from Miss Burney — Pacchierotti
— A dinner-party at Dr. Burney's — Lord Sandwich — Captain
Cook's Journal — Letter from Mrs. Thrale — Brighton society —
Grub Street — Miss Burney to Mrs. Thrale — Dangerous times
— A dinner-party at Dr. Burney's — A visit to Dr. Johnson-
Miss Burney and Dr. Johnson in Grub Street — Son of Edmund
Burke — A female rattle — Johnson's Lives of the Poets —
Streatham diary resumed — Brighton — Lady Hesketh — Lady
Shelley — A juvenile musician — Dangerous illness of Mr. Thrale
— Dr. Johnson and Mr. Murphy — Lady Lade — Letters —
Sheridan's Critic — Evelina in the Bodleian Library — Promotion
—Chit-chat ....... 407

PART X

1781

Correspondence between Miss Burney and Mrs. Thrale-—
Merlin — His mill to grind old ladies young — Dr.
Johnson — Bartolozzi — An Owhyhee dress — Conversazione —
Characters — Mrs. Montagu — Dinner at Mrs. Thrale's— Lord
Sheffield — Lord John Clinton — Two beauties and a fright-
Mrs. Carter — Webber's South Sea drawings — Curious fans —
The Duchess of Devonshire — Sir Joshua Reynolds— A dinner-

xvi CONTENTS

PAGE

party— A character — Sudden death of Mr. Thrale— Correspond-
ence between Mr. Crisp and Miss Burney — The Three Warnings
— Diary resumed — Visitors — Misconceptions — A dinner-party
— A quarrel — Perseverance and obstinacy — Reconciliation —
Sale of Mr. Thrale 's brewery — Mr. Barclay, the rich Quaker —
Dr. Johnson — Newspaper scandal — A poor artist — An odd
adventure — Anecdote of Dr. Johnson — Sitting for one's por-
trait— Visit to Streatham — A subject for Harry Bunbury — The
wits at war — Johnson's Life of Lord Lyttelton — Singular scene
— Johnson in a savage fit — A peace-maker — Merlin, the
mechanician ....... 457

APPENDIX— Boswell at Streatham Place . .509

INDEX 513

ILLUSTRATIONS

PORTRAITS

PAGE

Frances Burney. From the picture painted by Edward Francis
Burney in 1782 as engraved in mezzotint in 1840 by Charles
Turner, A.R.A. . . . . . . Frontispiece

Samuel Johnson, LL.D. From the picture by Sir Joshua Reynolds

as engraved in mezzotint in 1779 by William Doughty . .154

Charles Burney, Mus.D. From the picture painted by Sir Joshua

Reynolds in 1781 as engraved by F. Bartolozzi . . . 456

AUTOGRAPHS

Facsimile of the introductory pages of Miss Burney 's Diary . 20

Reduced Facsimile of Mrs. Thrale 's letter to Dr. Burney as to

Evelina, July 22, 1778 . . . . .48

Facsimile extract from a letter from Miss Burney to Mr. Crisp,

written in 1779 ....... 312

VIEWS, ETC.

Streatham Place. From an engraving by Ellis, dated 1787. [At
this date it was known as Thrale Place, and was described as the
residence of G. Piozzi, Esq., Mrs. Thrale 's second husband] . 52

No. 35 St. Martin's Street (formerly Newton's house). From a
photograph taken in 1904. [This (once No. 1) ws occupied by
the Burney s from 177 '4 to 1788 (?) ; and here Evelina was partly
written] ........ 102

xvii

xviii ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

Frontispiece to vol. iii. of Evelina, 4th edition, 1779. From the
original washed drawing by John Hamilton Mortimer, A.R.A.,
in the possession of Archdeacon Burney. [Represents the
monkey episode in Letter Ixxxiii] . . . . .214

Tunbridge Wells Walk. From the original coloured drawing
by J. Roberts, afterwards engraved as a frontispiece to the
Tunbridge Wells Guide, 1786 . . . 274

View of the Steine at Brighton from the South End, 1778.
From an engraving by Peter Mazell, after a drawing by James
Donowell, architect. [Shows the houses of Mrs. ThraWs friend,
Richard Scrase (2), and the Duke of Marlborough (3), the Castle
Inn (6), and Thomas's Library (9), etc.] .... 288

The South Parade at Bath. From an aquatint by James Gandon

after a drawing by Thomas Malton, published in 1784 . . 326

EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION1

It has been asserted that if any person, however
" unknown to fame," should write a journalising
memoir of his own life, in which every thought and
feeling should be faithfully portrayed, such a
narrative could not fail of being curious and
interesting.2 Yet, considering the satisfaction
which most people find in speaking of themselves,
it is singular how few specimens of such auto-
biography exist.

Perhaps their scarcity may arise from a con-
sciousness of the rare assemblage of qualities
necessary to their successful production ; for the
writer should be endowed with candour that shall
prompt him to "extenuate nothing," — honestly
setting down his own foibles and mistakes, which
are sometimes more mortifying to self-love than
graver faults. He should have acumen and
penetration, enabling him to unravel his own
secret feelings and motives, and to trace each
sentiment and action to its source. He should be
gifted with "the pen of a ready writer," in order
to arrest thoughts and impressions which fade
almost as fast as they arise ; — and, what is most

1 By Mrs. Charlotte Francis Barrett, daughter of Mme. D'Arblay's
younger sister Charlotte.

2 The allusion is perhaps to Walpole : — " Mr. Gray the poet, has often
observed to me, that, if any man were to form a Book of what he had
seen and heard himself, it must, in whatever hands, prove a most useful
and entertaining one." (Motto on title-page of Pinkerton's Walpoliana.)

VOL. I ffl B

2 EDITORS INTRODUCTION

rare of all, he should possess, however alloyed by
human weakness and infirmities, such a predomi-
nance of sound principles and virtuous dispositions,
as may render it safe to sympathise in his feelings ;
otherwise his memoir must either corrupt or disgust
the reader, by showing

That hideous sight, — a naked human heart.1

To ensure a full and free narration, it might also
be desirable for the memorialist to believe that his
pages will meet no eye but that of indulgent friend-
ship ; since those who expect their portraits will
be handed down to posterity can scarcely resist
dressing them in holiday suits.

May we not, however, venture to affirm that all
these supposed requisites were united in the case
of Madame D'Arblay, whose journals and letters
are now offered to the public ? As an author she
has long been known to the world, and the high
place which her works have held in public estima-
tion for more than sixty years,2 renders criticism
and comment superfluous.

Her long and virtuous life is now closed, and
those who have derived pleasure and instruction
from her publications may feel interested in reading
her private journals, and thus becoming acquainted
with the merits and peculiarities of her individual
character ; more especially as the timidity which
made her always shrink from observation, confined
to the circle of her chosen friends that knowledge
of her intimate feelings and real excellence which
won in no common degree their respect and love.
We would also hope there may be a moral use in
presenting the example of one who, being early
exalted to fame and literary distinction, yet found
her chief happiness in the discharge of domestic

2 This, it

Young's Night Thoughts, Night 3, 1. 226.

will be remembered, was first published in 1842.

EDITORS INTRODUCTION 3

duties, and in the friendships and attachments of
private life.

Frances Burney, the second daughter and third
child of Dr. Burney, was born at Lynn Regis in
Norfolk, on the 13th of June 1752. Her father
had in the preceding year accepted the office of
organist to that royal borough, having been obliged
by ill health to quit London, and to relinquish
more advantageous prospects.

The most remarkable features of Frances
Burney's childhood were, her extreme shyness, and
her backwardness at learning ; at eight years of
age, she did not even know her letters, and
her elder brother used to amuse himself by pre-
tending to teach her to read, and presenting the
book to her, turned upside down, — which he
declared she never found out. Her mother's friends
generally gave her the name of " the little dunce " ;
but her mother, more discerning as well as more
indulgent, always replied, that "she had no fear
about Fanny r

In fact, beneath an appearance so unpromising
to cursory observers, there was an undercurrent,
not only of deep feeling and affection, but of shrewd
observation and lively invention ; though the feel-
ings were rarely called forth in the happy careless
course of childish life, and the intellectual powers
were concealed by shyness, except when her own
individuality was forgotten in the zest with which
she would enact other personages in the little sports
and gambols she invented. Her father relates,
that she " used, after having seen a play in Mrs.
Garrick's box, to take the actors off, and compose
speeches for their characters ; for she could not
read them." 1 But in company, or before strangers,
she was silent, backward, and timid, even to
sheepishness ; and, from her shyness, had such

1 Memoirs of Dr. Burney, 1832, ii. 168.

4 EDITORS INTRODUCTION

profound gravity and composure of features, that
those of Dr. Burney's friends who went often to
his house, and entered into the different humours
of the children, never called Fanny by any other
name, from the time she had reached her eleventh
year, than "the old lady."

Dr. Burney adds, " she had always a great
affection for me ; had an excellent heart, and a
natural simplicity and probity about her that
wanted no teaching. In her plays with her sisters,
and some neighbour's children, this straightforward
morality operated to an uncommon degree in one
so young. There lived next door to me, at that
time, in Poland Street, and in a private house, a
capital hair-merchant, who furnished peruques to
the judges, and gentlemen of the law. The
merchant's female children and mine, used to play
together in the little garden behind the house ; and,
unfortunately, one day, the door of the wig-
magazine being left open, they each of them put
on one of those dignified ornaments of the head,
and danced and jumped about in a thousand antics,
laughing till they screamed at their own ridiculous
figures. Unfortunately, in their vagaries, one of
the flaxen wigs, said by the proprietor to be worth
upwards of ten guineas — in those days a price
enormous — fell into a tub of water, placed for the
shrubs in the little garden, and lost all its gorgon
buckle, and was declared by the owner to be totally
spoilt. He was extremely angry, and chid very
severely his own children ; when my little daughter,
the old lady, then ten years of age,1 advancing to
him, as I was informed, with great gravity and
composure, sedately says ; ' What signifies talking
so much about an accident ? The wig is wet, to be
sure ; and the wig was a good wig, to be sure ; but

1 This gives the date, 1762. The Burneys lived in Poland Street from
1760 to 1770.

EDITORS INTRODUCTION 5

it's of no use to speak of it any more ; because what's
done can't be undone.'

"Whether these stoical sentiments appeased
the enraged peruquier, I know not, but the
younkers were stript of their honours, and my little
monkies were obliged to retreat without beat of
drum, or colours flying." 1

Mrs. Burney was well qualified to instruct and
train her numerous family ; but they lost her early,
and her chief attention appears to have been
bestowed on the education of her eldest daughter,
Esther, with whom she read all Pope's works, and
Pitt's JEneid ; 2 while the silent, observant Fanny
learnt by heart passages from Pope, merely from
hearing her sister recite them, and long before she
cared for reading them herself.

In the year 1760, Dr. Burney returned to London
with his wife and children, and took a house in
Poland Street, where he renewed, under happy
auspices, the acquaintance which, during his former
residence in London, he had made with several of
the most distinguished literary characters of his
day. At this period, his eldest son James, after-
wards Admiral Burney, had been sent to sea as a
midshipman, in the ship of Admiral Montagu ; his
second son, Charles, afterwards the celebrated
Greek scholar, was still quite a child ; and his
fourth daughter, Charlotte, was an infant.

From this young family, for whom maternal
care appeared so necessary, their affectionate
mother was removed by death in the autumn of
176 1.3 During the latter period of her illness,
Frances and her sister Susanna had been placed in
a boarding-school in Queen Square, that they
might be out of the way ; and when the sad

1 Memoirs of Dr. Burney, 1832, ii. 170, 171.

2 Christopher Pitt's translation of the JEneid appeared in 1740. He
was the friend of Pope and Spence.

3 September 28.

6 EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION

intelligence of their loss was brought to them, the
agony of Frances's grief was so great, though she
was not more than nine years old, that her governess
declared she had never met with a child of such
intense and acute feelings.

The bereaved father soon recalled his children
home, and their education carried itself on,
rather than owed its progress to any regular in-
struction. Dr. Burney was too much occupied by
his professional engagements to teach them, except
by his own example of industry and perseverance.
These were so great that he actually studied and
acquired the French and Italian languages on
horseback ; having for that purpose written out a
pocket grammar and vocabulary of each.

His son Charles was, at a proper age, sent to
the Charter House School, but his daughters
remained at home ; they had no governess, and
though the eldest and the third, Esther and
Susanna, were subsequently taken to France,1 and
placed for two years in a Parisian seminary, Frances
shared not this advantage. Dr. Burney afterwards
acknowledged that one reason which decided him
against carrying her to France was her strong
attachment to her maternal grandmother, who was
a Roman Catholic. " He feared she might be
induced to follow the religion of one whom she so
much loved and honoured, if she should fall so
early into the hands of any zealots who should
attempt her conversion." She was, therefore,
literally self-educated, and to use her own words,
her sole emulation for improvement, and sole spur
for exertion, were her unbounded veneration and
affection for her father, "who, nevertheless, had
not, at the time, a moment to spare for giving
her any personal instruction ; or even for directing
her pursuits."

1 In June 1764.

EDITORS INTRODUCTION 7

At ten years of age she could read, and with
the occasional assistance of her eldest sister she
had taught herself to write ; and no sooner had
she acquired the latter accomplishment than she
began to scribble, almost incessantly, little poems
and works of invention, though in a character that
was illegible to every one but herself. Her love
of reading did not display itself till two or three
years later ; thus practically reversing the axiom
that

Authors before they write should read.

But although the education of Dr. Burney's
daughters was not conducted according to the
elaborate systems of the present day, they yet
enjoyed some advantages which more than I com-
pensated for the absence of regular and salaried
instructors. The sentiments and example of their
father excited them to love whatever was upright,
virtuous, and amiable ; while, from not being
secluded in a schoolroom, they also shared the con-
versation of their father's guests ; and, in London,
Dr. Burney's miscellaneous but agreeable society
included some of those most eminent for literature
in our own country, together with many accom-
plished foreigners, whose observations and criticisms
were in themselves lessons. Perhaps the taste of
Frances Burney was formed much in the same way
as that of her celebrated contemporary, Madame
de Stael, who relates that she used to sit with her
work, on a little stool at her mother's knee, and
listen to the conversation of all Monsieur Necker's
enlightened visitors ; thus gathering notions on
literature and politics long ere it was suspected
that she knew the meaning of the words.

If, however, the above methods were of them-
selves sufficient for education, all good conversers
might offer a " royal road " to learning. But the

8 EDITORS INTRODUCTION

benefit here obtained was chiefly that of directing
the attention to intellectual pursuits, enlightening
the judgment, and exciting a thirst for knowledge
which led the youthful Frances to diligent and
laborious application. By the time she was four-
teen she had carefully studied many of the best
authors in her father's library, of which she had
the uncontrolled range. She began also to make
extracts, keeping a catalogue raisonne of the books
she read ; and some of her early remarks were such
as would not have disgraced a maturer judgment.

Thus passed, not idly nor unprofitably, nearly
six years after the death of that mother who would
have been her best instructress. Dr. Burney then
made another journey to Paris, for the purpose
of conducting home his daughters, Esther and
Susanna, whose allotted two years of education
in that capital had expired. Their improvement
had kept pace with their father's hopes and wishes,
but he gave up his original plan of carrying Frances
and Charlotte abroad on the return of their sisters :
Susanna volunteered to instruct Fanny in French ;
and they were all so enchanted to meet again, that
perhaps Dr. Burney's parental kindness withheld
him from proposing a new separation.

On the first return of the youthful travellers,1
Susanna, who was then scarcely fourteen, wrote a
sort of comparison between her two elder sisters,
which, as it happens to have been preserved, and
may in some measure illustrate their early char-
acters, we will give verbatim.

" Hetty seems a good deal more lively than she
used to appear at Paris ; whether it is that her
spirits are better, or that the great liveliness of the
inhabitants made her appear grave there by com-
parison, I know not : but she was there remarkable
for being serieuse, and is here for being gay and

1 In 1767.

EDITORS INTRODUCTION 9

lively. She is a most sweet girl. My sister Fanny
is unlike her in almost everything, yet both are
very amiable, and love each other as sincerely as
ever sisters did. The characteristics of Hetty seem
to be wit, generosity, and openness of heart ;
Fanny's, — sense, sensibility, and bashfulness, and
even a degree of prudery. Her understanding is
superior, but her diffidence gives her a bashfulness
before company with whom she is not intimate,
which is a disadvantage to her. My eldest sister
shines in conversation, because, though very modest,
she is totally free from any mauvaise honte : were
Fanny equally so, I am persuaded she would shine
no less. I am afraid that my eldest sister is too
communicative, and that my sister Fanny is too
reserved. They are both charming girls — desfilles
comme il y en a peu" 1

Veu^ soon after his return from Paris, an im-
portant change took place in Dr. Burney's domestic
circle, by his forming a second matrimonial con-
nection, and bringing home to his family as their
mother-in-law,2 Mrs. Stephen Allen, the widow of
a Lynn merchant, and herself the parent of several
children who had been friends and playmates of
the young Burneys.3 Both families were pleased
at this reunion ; a larger house was taken, in Queen
Square, that they might all reside under the same
roof, — although this dwelling was afterwards
exchanged for a house in St. Martin's Street ; and
the new Mrs. Burney, who was herself highly in-
tellectual, entered with intelligent delight into the
literary circle which formed the solace and refresh-
ment of her husband.

1 In Letter lxv. of Evelina, Miss Burney, applying this locution to
Lord Orville, attributes it to Marmontel.

2 Stepmother. But "mother-in-law" for "stepmother," according to
Wright's English Dialect Dictionary, 1903, is still in general colloquial use.
- 3 Dr. Burney's second marriage took place at St. James's, Westminster,
in October 1767.

10 EDITORS INTRODUCTION

Among those friends who were accustomed to
assemble round their tea-table, or to enliven their
simple early supper, were, Sir Robert and Lady
Strange, — the former so well known for his admir-
able engravings, and his lady for her strong sense
and original humour ; Dr. Hawkes worth, the worthy
and learned editor of Byron's and Cook's First
Voyages ; Garrick, and his amiable wife, the friend
of Hannah More ; Barry, the painter, whose works
still adorn the Adelphi ; Mr. Twining, the trans-
lator of Aristotle ; Mason, the poet; Mr. Greville
and his lady, the latter celebrated as the authoress
of the beautiful " Ode to Indifference " ; Dr. Arm-
strong ; Arthur Young, the agriculturist, who had
married a sister of Mrs. Burney's ; John Hutton,
the Moravian ; the musical and clever La Trobes,
and Nollekens, the sculptor. To these might be
added many others of equal or superior celebrity,
who formed part of Dr. Burney's society, as time
and circumstances brought them within his reach.

But the companion and counsellor who was
dearest to himself, and most loved and honoured
by his youthful group, was Mr. Crisp. This gentle-
man, several years older than Dr. Burney, had been
to him a " Guide, Philosopher, and Friend " in early
life ; they had then been separated in consequence
of Mr. Crisp's residing on the Continent during
several years, but when they again met, their
intimacy was renewed with a cordiality and delight
that only ended with life.

At this time Mr. Crisp had given up the world,
in consequence of various losses, diminished for-
tune, and disappointed hopes ; and he had fixed
his dwelling in an old-fashioned country house,
called Chessington Hall, not far from Kingston in
Surrey, and within a few miles from Hampton.
This mansion stood upon a large and nearly desolate
common, and not a road or even a track led to it

EDITORS INTRODUCTION 11

from Epsom, which was the nearest town. It was
encircled by ploughed fields, and one-half of the
building was inhabited by a farmer ; while in the
remaining portion dwelt the proprietor, Christopher
Hamilton, Esq., with whom Mr. Crisp had adopted
some picnic plan, which enabled him to consider
Chessington as his decided residence. At the
death of Mr. Hamilton, the house, which was then
his only property, devolved to his maiden sister,
Mrs. Hamilton, who, with her niece, Miss Kitty
Cooke, continued to receive Mr. Crisp as an inmate,
and to admit other persons as occasional boarders.1

This independent method of visiting his friend,
and of obtaining country air and exercise for his
children, exactly suited the views of Dr. Burney,
and they all in turn, or in groups, enjoyed the
society of their Chessington Daddy, as they
familiarly called Mr. Crisp ; while he was indul-
gent to all their youthful vagaries, and amused
with observing their different characters.

Among those who most frequently availed
themselves of Mrs. Hamilton's arrangement was
Mrs. Gast, the sister of Mr. Crisp, who, whenever
she quitted her house at Burford, in order to visit
her brother, failed not to enhance the pleasure of
the Chessington meetings by her good sense and
kind nature, added to a considerable degree of
cultivation.

But whatever might offer itself of occupation or
amusement, Fanny continued secretly, yet per-
severingly, her own literary attempts. When in
London she used to write in a little playroom up
two pair of stairs,2 which contained the toys of the

1 Chessington Hall was pulled down in 1832, and a new building was
erected in its place. The grounds, however, remain much the same as of
old, and are carefully preserved by the Chancellor family, the present
proprietors.

2 This was probably in Queen Square, as it scarcely describes the
Newton Observatory in St. Martin's Street, where she says she wrote in
1774 {Early Diary of Frances Burney, 1889, i. 304).

12 EDITORS INTRODUCTION

younger children. At Lynn, to which place the
doctor's family paid annual visits, she would shut
herself up in a summer-house which they called
The Cabin, and there unburden her mind, by writ-
ing the tales and compositions with which her
fancy abounded.1

To none but her sister Susanna was the secret
of this authorship confided ; and even she could
seldom hear or read these productions, for want of
private opportunities by which she might avoid
betraying them to others.

Notwithstanding all these precautions, the
vigilant eye of their mother-in-law was not long
in discovering Fanny's love of seclusion, her scraps
of writing, and other tokens of her favourite em-
ployment, which excited no small alarm in her.

Perhaps if she had desired to see the little
manuscripts she might have perceived in them traces
of genius worth encouraging ; but while her deli-
cacy prevented such investigation, her good sense,
acting upon general principles, led her to inveigh
very frequently and seriously against the evil of a
scribbling turn in young ladies — the loss of time,
the waste of thought, in idle, crude inventions — and
the (at that time) utter discredit of being known
as a female writer of novels and romances.

Whatever conviction these strictures may have
produced, they at least so wrought upon Fanny's
sense of duty and obedience, that she resolved to
make an auto da fe of all her manuscripts, and, if
possible, to throw away her pen. Seizing, there-
fore, an opportunity when Dr. and Mrs. Burney
were from home, she made over to a bonfire in a
paved play - court her whole stock of prose com-
positions, while her faithful Susanna stood by,
weeping at the conflagration. Among the works
thus immolated, was one tale of considerable length,

1 The Cabin is referred to in the Early Diary, 1889, i. 11, 12, 13.

EDITORS INTRODUCTION 13

the " History of Caroline Evelyn," the mother of
Evelina.

This sacrifice was made in the young authoress's
fifteenth year, and for some weeks she probably
adhered to her resolution of composing no more
works of fiction, and began, perhaps as a less
objectionable employment, the Journal which she
continued during so many years. But the perennial
fountain could not be restrained ; her imagination
was haunted by the singular situations to which
Caroline Evelyn's infant daughter might be ex-
posed, from the unequal birth by which she hung
suspended between the elegant connections of her
mother, and the vulgar ones of her grandmother ;
thus presenting contrasts and mixtures of society
so unusual, yet, under the supposed circumstances,
so natural, that irresistibly, and almost uncon-
sciously, the whole story of Evelina : or, A Young
Ladys Entrance into the World, was pent up in
the inventor's memory, ere a paragraph was com-
mitted to paper.

Writing was to her always more difficult than
composing, because her time and her pen found
ample employment in transcribing for her father,
who was occupied at every spare moment with
preparations for his great work, The General
History of Music.

In the summer of 1770, Fanny obtained several
months of leisure for her own studies and com-
positions, as Dr. Burney then set out on a solitary
tour through France and Italy, for the purpose of
collecting materials for his History ; but, on his
return in the spring of 1771,1 she was employed as
his principal amanuensis, in preparing the minutes
of his tour for the press. All his daughters, how-
ever, shared in this service, copying his numerous
manuscripts, tracing over and over again the same

1 Dr. Burney returned in January.

14 EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION

page when his nicety of judgment suggested fresh
alterations ; while their patient and affectionate
assiduity brought its own reward, in the extension
of knowledge and improvement of taste which
accrued from such labours.

Dr. Burney's Italian Tour was no sooner pub-
lished1 than he set out on another journey, for the
same purpose of musical research, in Germany and
the Low Countries. His family resided during his
absence at Lynn and at Chessington, where Fanny
gradually arranged and connected the disjointed
scraps and fragments in which Evelina had been
originally written, whenever a quarter of an hour's
leisure and solitude had allowed her thus to pre-
serve the creations of her fancy. She mentions,
with great naivete, in her Lynn Journal, that she
never indulged herself with writing or reading
except in the afternoon ; 2 always scrupulously
devoting her time to needlework till after dinner.
As, however, the hours of repast were somewhat
earlier in those days than at present, this notable
self-denial may only have sent her to her favourite
pursuits with fresh vigour.

The arrival of her father from Germany turned
her thoughts into another channel ; as a long and
painful illness, which Dr. Burney owed to the
fatigues and difficulties of a hurried journey, called
for the " incessant assiduity of his fondly attached
wife and daughters to nurse him through it."
Even then, when confined to his bed by spasmodic
rheumatism, he generally kept one of his daughters
seated near him, pen in hand, that, during the
intervals of suffering, he might dictate the ideas
which occurred to him for his musical work ; and
perhaps the example of such literary perseverance
was a stimulus that amply compensated for the
hindrance it occasioned.

1 In May 1771. 2 Early Diary, 1889, i. 14.

EDITORS INTRODUCTION 15

After the Doctor's recovery, some years still
elapsed before he was able to execute his plan ; and
it was not till the year 1776 that he brought out
the first volume of his History of Music.1 During
all this period of literary occupation and anxiety, it
is not surprising that his daughter, gifted, though
unconsciously, with equal powers, should, even in
sympathy with her father's feelings, be seized with
a wish to see a work of her own also in print ;
though she was far from desiring the public suffrage
which he coveted ; on the contrary, she fully in-
tended always to remain unknown.

She communicated this idea to her sisters, under
promise of inviolable secrecy ; and, in furtherance
of the project, she now transcribed the manuscript
of Evelina, in an upright feigned hand ; for, as she
was her father's amanuensis, she feared lest her
common writing might accidentally be seen by
some compositor employed in printing the History
of Music, and so lead to detection.

Growing weary, however, of this manual labour,
after she had thus prepared the first and second
volumes, she wrote a letter, without signature,
offering the unfinished work to Mr. Dodsley, and
promising to send the sequel in the following year.
This letter was forwarded by the post, with a
request that the answer might be directed to a
coffee-house.2

Her younger brother, Charles, though without
reading a word of the manuscript, accepted a share
in the frolic, and undertook to be her agent at the
coffee-house and with the bookseller. But Mr.
Dodsley declined looking at anything anonymous ;
and the young group, "after sitting in committee
on this lofty reply," next fixed upon Mr. Lowndes,

1 The German Tour had been published in May 1773, and contained
detailed " Proposals " for the History of Music.

2 The Orange Coffee House in the Haymarket, not very far from Dr.
Burney's house in St. Martin's Street.

16 EDITORS INTRODUCTION

a bookseller in the City l — who desired to see the
manuscript ; and shortly after it had been conveyed
to him, signified in a letter to the unknown author,
that he could not publish an unfinished book,
though he liked the work ; but he should be
ready to purchase and print it when it should
be completed.

Disappointed at this stipulation, reasonable as it
was, the inexperienced authoress was on the point
of giving up her scheme altogether ; and yet, as
she has herself observed, "to be thwarted on the
score of our inclination, acts more frequently as a
spur than as a bridle " ; 2 so that, ere another year
could pass away, she had almost involuntarily com-
pleted and transcribed her third volume.

But, during the hesitation occasioned by the de-
mand of Mr. Lowndes, another difficulty occurred,
for she felt a conscientious scruple whether it
would be right to allow herself such an amusement
unknown to her father. She had never taken any
important step without his sanction, and had now
refrained from asking it through confusion at
acknowledging her authorship and dread of his
desiring to see her performance. However, in this,
as in every instance during her life, she no sooner
saw what was her duty, than she honestly per-
formed it. Seizing, therefore, an opportunity
when her father was bidding her a kind farewell,
preparatory to a Chessington visit, she avowed to
him, with many blushes, " her secret little work ;
and her odd inclination to see it in print ; " 3 adding,
that her brother Charles would transact the affair
with a bookseller at a distance, so that her name
could never transpire, and only entreating that he
would not himself ask to see the manuscript. " His

1 Thomas Lowndes, of 77 Fleet Street.

2 Memoirs of Dr. Burney, 1832, ii. 129.

3 Ibid. ii. 130.

EDITORS INTRODUCTION 17

amazement was * even ' surpassed by his amuse-
ment ; and his laugh was so gay, that, revived by
its cheering sound, she lost all her fears and
embarrassment, and heartily joined in it ; though
somewhat at the expense of her new author-like
dignity." 1

Dr. Burney thought her project as innocent as
it was whimsical, and kindly embracing her, en-
joined her to be careful in guarding her own incog-
nita, and then dropped the subject without even
asking the name of her book.

With heightened spirits she now forwarded the
packet to Mr. Lowndes, who, in a few days, signi-
fied his approbation, and sent an offer of twenty
pounds for the manuscript : — " An offer which was
accepted with alacrity ; and boundless surprise at
its magnificence ! " 2

In the ensuing January 1778, Evelina was pub-
lished ; a fact which only became known to its
writer from her hearing the newspaper advertise-
ment read accidentally at breakfast-time, by her
mother-in-law, Mrs. Burney.3

And here we gladly suspend this attempt at
introducing to the public the Memoirs of Madame
D'Arblay. From this period till her marriage her
Journal contains a minute and animated narrative
of all that the reader can wish to know concerning
her. He was entreated to bear in mind that it was
originally intended for no eye but her own, though
she afterwards extended the privilege to her sisters,
to Mr. Crisp, and to Mrs. Locke ; making, for
these trusted friends, as she has herself expressed
it, " a window in her breast," yet disclosing, in the

1 Memoirs of Dr. Burney, ii. 131. 2 Ibid. ii. 132.

3 See note to p. 9. Mrs. Barrett follows the Memoirs of Br. Burney,
ii. 132. Upon those Memoirs she seems to have mainly relied, though
some of her quotations are not textual. Where they have been exactly
verified, their source has been given.

VOL. I C

18 EDITORS INTRODUCTION

simplicity of her ingenuous confidence, such undevi-
ating uprightness of character, such unhackneyed
nobleness of feeling, that now, when she is removed
far above the reach of embarrassment or pain
from this publication, it cannot be derogatory to
her beloved memory to make known her inmost
thoughts, as far as she has left them recorded ;
while it might be unjust to withhold the lessons
conveyed incidentally, not only by traits of filial
duty and generous self-denial in the historian her-
self, but by the picture she exhibits of domestic
virtues in the most exalted rank, and of sound
discretion, united with humble faith and pious
resignation, under the most painful and trying cir-
cumstances— such as she witnessed and deeply
venerated in her august Royal Mistress.

To those personal friends of Madame D'Arblay
whose affection for her may render them jealous of
any apparent deviation from her intentions, it may
be satisfactory to state, that in her latter years,
when all her juvenile adventures seemed to her " as
a tale that is told," and when she could dwell,
sadly yet submissively, on recollections of deeper
interest, she herself arranged these Journals and
Papers with the most scrupulous care ; affixing to
them such explanations as would make them intel-
ligible to her successors — avowing a hope that
some instruction might be derived from them —
and finally, in her last hours, consigning them to
the editor, with full permission to publish whatever
might be judged desirable for that purpose, and
with no negative injunction, except one, which has
been scrupulously obeyed, viz. : that whatever
might be effaced or omitted, nothing should in
anywise be altered or added to her records.

THE AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION1

To have some account of my thoughts, manners,
acquaintance, and actions, when the hour arrives
at which time is more nimble than memory, is the
reason which induces me to keep a Journal — a
Journal in which, I must confess, my every
thought must open my whole heart.

But a thing of the kind ought to be addressed
to somebody — I must imagine myself to be talk-
ing— talking to the most intimate of friends — to
one in whom I should take delight in confiding,
and feel remorse in concealment ; but who must
this friend be ? To make choice of one in whom
I can but half rely, would be to frustrate entirely
the intention of my plan. The only one I could
wholly, totally confide in, lives in the same house
with me, and not only never has, but never will,
leave me one secret to tell her. To whom then
must I dedicate my wonderful, surprising, and
interesting adventures ? — to whom dare I reveal
my private opinion of my nearest relations ? my
secret thoughts of my dearest friends ? my own
hopes, fears, reflections, and dislikes ? — Nobody.

To Nobody, then, will I write my Journal !
since to Nobody can I be wholly unreserved, to
Nobody can I reveal every thought, every wish of
my heart, with the most unlimited confidence,
the most unremitting sincerity, to the end of my
life ! For what chance, what accident, can end

1 See facsimile at p. 20.
19

20 AUTHORS INTRODUCTION

my connections with Nobody ? No secret can I
conceal from Nobody, and to Nobody can I be
ever unreserved. Disagreement cannot stop our
affection — time itself has no power to end our
friendship. The love, the esteem, I entertain for
Nobody, Nobody's self has not power to destroy.
From Nobody I have nothing to fear. The secrets
sacred to friendship Nobody will not reveal ; when
the affair is doubtful, Nobody will not look towards
the side least favourable.

[The above are the opening passages of Miss Burney's Diary,
which she commenced at the age of fifteen years. They are
given because they express in the writer's own words her design
and objects in undertaking a task the results of which are now
about to be laid before the world.

That portion of the Diary which intervenes between the
above-named period and the publication of Evelina (in 1778) it
has been thought right to withhold, — at least for the present ; —
for though it is, to the family and friends of the writer, quite as
full of interest as the subsequent portions, the interest is of a
more private and personal nature than that which attaches to
the Journal after its writer became universally known as the
authoress of Evelina, Cecilia, etc.

Whether the more juvenile portions of the Journal see the
light hereafter or not,1 will in some measure depend on the
temper in which the portions now offered may be received by
the public. In the meantime, it should be mentioned that
after Miss Burney had for some years addressed her Journal as
above (to " Nobody " ) — when its topics began to assume a
more general and public interest, she changed this rather
embarrassing feature of her plan, and addressed these records of
her life and thoughts to her beloved sister, Miss Susan Burney
(afterwards Mrs. Phillips), and occasionally to her accomplished
and venerated friend, Mr. Crisp, of Chessington, — to whom the
packets were forwarded respectively, from time to time, as
opportunities offered (Mrs. Barrett's note)].

1 These portions have since been published in two volumes, under the
title of The Early Diary of Frances Burney, 1768-78, with a Selection
from her Correspondence, and from the Journals of her Sisters, Stisan and
Charlotte Burney. Edited by [Mrs.] Annie Raine Ellis. London :
George Bell and Sons, 1889.

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PART I

1778

The publication of Evelina — Its designs and objects — Secrecy
of its publication — Letter from the publisher — Alarm of
the writer at being known — Awkward predicament —
Critiques on Evelina — Mr. Crisp — Evelina read by Dr.
Burney — His discovery of its author — Dr. Johnson —
Letters from Miss Burney to her father — Mrs. Thrale —
Astonishing success of Evelina — Disclosure of its author-
ship to her mother — Mrs. Cholmondeley — Mrs. Thrale —
Mr. Lowndes — Letters from Miss Burney to her sister —
Dr. Johnson — Miss Burney's feelings on her unlooked-for
success as an authoress — Guesses as to the writer of
Evelina — Diary resumed — Dr. Burney acquaints Mrs.
Thrale with the secret — Singular position of the writer
— Letter of Mrs. Thrale — Madame Riccoboni — Dr. John-
son reads Evelina — His opinion of it — Anna Williams —
Invitation to Streatham — The author's alarm at tmeeting
the literary circle there — Great profits of the publisher —
First visit to Streatham — Her reception by the Thrales —
Mrs. Thrale's admiration of Evelina — She describes Dr.
Johnson's imitating characters in Evelina — Mr. Seward —
First introduction to Dr. Johnson — His conversation —
Garrick — His prologues and epilogues — Garrick and Wilkes
— Wear and tear of the face — Sir John Hawkins — An
" unclubable man " — A mean couple — Sir Joshua Reynolds
— He sits up all night to read Evelina — Miss Burney visits
Mr. Lowndes — His account of the author of Evelina — Secret
history — Letters from Mr. Crisp — Anecdote of Quin the
actor.

This year was ushered in by a grand and most
important event ! At the latter end of January
the literary world was favoured with the first

22 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ms

publication of the ingenious, learned, and most
profound Fanny Burney ! I doubt not but this
memorable affair will, in future times, mark the
period whence chronologers will date the zenith of
the polite arts in this island !

This admirable authoress has named her most
elaborate performance, Evelina: or, a Young Lady s
Entrance into the World.1

Perhaps this may seem a rather bold attempt
and title, for a female whose knowledge of the
world is very confined, and whose inclinations, as
well as situation, incline her to a private and
domestic life. All I can urge is, that I have
only presumed to trace the accidents and adven-
tures to which a " young woman " is liable ; I have
not pretended to show the world what it actually
is, but what it appears to a girl of seventeen : and
so far as that, surely any girl who is past seven-
teen 2 may safely do ? The motto of my excuse
shall be taken from Pope's Temple of Fame : —

In every work, regard the writer's end ;

None e'er can compass more than they intend.3

[About the middle of January my cousin
Edward brought me a parcel, under the name of
Grafton. I had, some little time before, acquainted
both my aunts4 of my frolic. They will, I am
sure, be discreet ; indeed, I exacted a vow from
them of strict secrecy ; and they love me with
such partial kindness that I have a pleasure in
reposing much confidence in them.

1 It was advertised in the London Chronicle for January 27-29 as on
sale in 3 vols. 12mo, 9s. bound ; 7s. 6d. sewed. The sub-title was
subsequently altered to The History of a Young Lady's Entrance into the
World.

2 This conclusively proves, what indeed is clear from the Preface to
Evelina itself, that Miss Burney had no intention of suggesting that the
book was written by her at the age of seventeen.

3 Essay on Criticism, 11. 255, 256.

4 Dr. Burney's sisters, one of whom was named Anne.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 23

I immediately conjectured what the parcel was,
and found the following letter : —

To Mr. Grafton

To be left at the Orange Coffee House.

Sir — I take the liberty to send you a novel,
which a gentleman, your acquaintance, said you
would hand to him. I beg with expedition, as 'tis
time it should be published, and 'tis requisite he
should first revise it, or the reviewers may find a
flaw. — I am, sir, your obedient servant,

Thomas Lowndes.

Fleet Street, Jan. 7, 1778.

My aunt, now, would take no denial to my
reading it to them, in order to mark errata ; and —
to cut the matter short, I was compelled to
communicate the affair to my cousin Edward, and
then to obey their commands.

Of course, they were all prodigiously charmed
with it. My cousin now became my agent, a
deputy to Charles, with Mr. Lowndes, and when I
had made the errata, carried it to him.

The book, however, was not published till the
latter end of the month.1] A thousand little odd
incidents happened about this time, but I am not
in a humour to recollect them ; however, they
were none of them productive of a discovery
either to my father or mother.

[My little book, I am told, is now at all the
circulating libraries. I have an exceeding odd
sensation, when I consider that it is now in the
power of any and every body to read what I so
carefully hoarded even, from my best friends, till
this last month or two ; and that a work which

1 For explanation of this and the similar passages between square
brackets which follow, see Preface.

24 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

was so lately lodged, in all privacy, in my bureau,
may now be seen by every butcher and baker,
cobbler and tinker, throughout the three kingdoms,
for the small tribute of threepence.1 ]

My Aunt Anne and Miss Humphries2 being
settled at this time at Brompton, I was going
thither with Susan to tea, when Charlotte3
acquainted me that they were then employed in
reading Evelina to the invalid, my cousin Richard.
[My sister had recommended it to Miss Hum-
phries, and my aunts and Edward4 agreed they
would read it, but without mentioning anything
of the author.]

This intelligence gave me the utmost uneasiness
— I foresaw a thousand dangers of a discovery — I
dreaded the indiscreet warmth of all my confi-
dants. In truth, I was quite sick with apprehension,
and was too uncomfortable to go to Brompton,
and Susan carried my excuses.

Upon her return I was somewhat tranquillised,
for she assured me that there was not the smallest
suspicion of the author, and that they had con-
cluded it to be the work of a man! [and
Miss Humphries, who read it aloud to Richard,
said several things in its commendation, and
concluded them by exclaiming, " It's a thousand
pities the author should lie concealed."

Finding myself more safe than I had appre-
hended, I ventured to go to Brompton next day.
In my way upstairs I heard Miss Humphries in
the midst of Mr. Villars' letter of consolation upon
Sir John Belmont's rejection of his daughter ; and
just as I entered the room she cried out, "How
pretty that is ! "

1 A penny a volume, — the circulating library fee.

2 A lady from Worcester.

3 See Editor's Introduction, p. 5, as to Susan and Charlotte.

4 Edward and Richard were sons of Dr. Burney's brother, Richard
Burney of Worcester.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 25

How much in luck would she have thought
herself had she known who heard her !

In a private confabulation which I had with my
Aunt Anne, she told me a thousand things that
had been said in its praise, and assured me they
had not for a moment doubted that the work
was a mans.

[Comforted and made easy by these assurances,
I longed for the diversion of hearing their observa-
tions, and, therefore (though rather mat a propos),
after I had been near two hours in the room, I
told Miss Humphries that I was afraid I had
interrupted her, and begged she would go on with
what she was reading.

"Why," cried she, taking up the book, "we
have been prodigiously entertained," and very
readily she continued.]

I must own I suffered great difficulty in re-
fraining from laughing upon several occasions, —
and several times, when they praised what they
read, I was upon the point of saying, "You are
very good ! " and so forth, and I could scarcely
keep myself from making acknowledgments, and
bowing my head involuntarily. However, I got
off perfectly safe.

[Monday. — Susan and I went to tea at Bromp-
ton. We met Miss Humphries coming to town.
She told us she had just finished Evelina, and gave
us to understand that she could not get away until
she had done it. We heard afterwards from my
aunt the most flattering praises, and Richard
could talk of nothing else. His encomiums gave
me double pleasure from being wholly unexpected,
for I had prepared myself to hear that he held it
extremely cheap. And I was yet more satisfied
because I was sure they were sincere, as he con-
vinced me that he had not the most distant idea
of suspicion, by finding great fault with Evelina

26 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ms

herself for her bashfuhiess with such a man as
Lord Orville.

I could have answered him that he ought to
consider the original character of Evelina — that
she had been brought up in the strictest retire-
ment ; that she knew nothing of the world, and
only acted from the impulses of nature ; and that
her timidity always prevented her from daring to
hope that Lord Orville was seriously attached to
her. In short, I could have bid him read the
Preface again, where she is called "the offspring of
Nature, and of Nature in her simplest attire." But
I feared appearing too well acquainted with the
book, and I rejoiced that an unprejudiced reader
should make no weightier objection.]

It seems, to my utter amazement, Miss Hum-
phries has guessed the author to be Anstey, who
wrote the Bath Guide ! l How improbable and
how extraordinary a supposition ! But they have
both of them done it so much honour that, but for
Richard's anger at Evelina's bashfulness, I never
could believe they did not suspect me. [I never
went to Brompton without finding the third
volume in Richard's hands ; he speaks of all the
characters as if they were his acquaintance, and
praises different parts perpetually. Both he and
Miss Humphries seem to have it by heart, for it is
always a propos to whatever is the subject of
discourse, and their whole conversation almost
consists of quotations from it.

As Richard's recovery seemed now confirmed, his
Worcester friends grew impatient to see him, and
he fixed upon Tuesday to leave town, to the great
regret of us all, glad as we were that he was able
to make the journey. Sunday, therefore, was
settled for his making a last visit at our house,

1 Christopher Anstey's New Bath Guide: or, the Memoirs of the
B-r-d Family, had been published in 1766.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 27

that he might again see my father and try his own
strength.

I now grew very uneasy, lest Miss Humphries
and Richard should speak of the book to my
mother, and lest she should send for it to read,
upon their recommendation ; for I could not bear
to think of the danger I should run from my own
consciousness, and various other causes, if the book
were brought into the house. I therefore went on
Saturday morning to consult with my aunt at
Brompton. She advised, nay, besought, me to tell
them the real state of the case at once, but I
could not endure to do that, and so, after
much pondering, I at last determined to take
my chance.

Richard, in handing me some macaroons, chose
to call them macaronies, and said, " Come, Miss
Fanny, you must have some of these — they are all
Sir Clement Willoughbys, — all in the highest style, —
and I am sure to be like him, will recommend
them to you, for his must be a very favourite
character with you ; a character in the first style,
give me leave to assure you." l

March 30. — I have just received a letter from
my dear Charles, in which he informs me that he
has subscribed to a circulating library at Reading,
and then he adds : " I am to have Evelina to-day ;
the man told me it was spoken very highly of, and
very much inquired after ; that, as yet, there had
been no critique upon it, but that it was thought
one of the best publications we have had for a long
time."

As to a critique, it is with fear and fidgets I
await it. Next Wednesday I expect to be in one

1 From some detached passages of Fanny's papers, printed by Mrs.
Ellis {Early Diary, 1889, ii. 219), it seems that the secret was revealed to
Richard Burney before he left London for Worcester.

28 DIARY AND LETTERS pF ws

of the reviews. — O heavens ! what should I do if
I were known, for I have very little doubt I shall
be horribly mauled.

......

I will copy the Monthly Review of my book ;
in the Critical I have not yet appeared.1

But hold, first in order comes the London
Review for February 1778 by W. Kenrick.2

Evelina — The history of a young lady exposed to very critical
situations. There is much more merit, as well respecting style,
character and incident, than is usually to be met with among our
modern novels.

From the Moiithly Review for April 1778.

Evelina : or a young Lady's Entrance into the World. — This
novel has given us so much pleasure in the perusal, that we do
not hesitate to pronounce it one of the most sprightly, entertain-
ing, and agreeable productions of this kind which has of late
fallen under our notice. A great variety of natural incidents,
some of the comic stamp, render the narrative extremely
interesting. The characters, which are agreeably diversified, are
conceived and drawn with propriety, and supported with spirit.
The whole is written with great ease, and command of language.
From this commendation, however, we must except the
character of a son of Neptune, whose manners are rather those
of a rough, uneducated country 'Squire, than those of a genuine
sea-captain.

]

Chessington, June 18.

Here I am, and here I have been this age ;
though too weak to think of journalising ;3 how-
ever, as I never had so many curious anecdotes to
record, I will not — at least this year, the first of

1 The Critical Review did not notice the book until September.

2 Dr. William Kenrick, 1725-79, the " Kenrick " of Goldsmith's Retalia-
tion, 11. 86 and 115, and the " envious Kenrick " of Macaulay's Essay on
Mme. D'Arblay, 1843. This, and the following review, have been verified
from the originals.

3 She had just recovered from inflammation of the lungs, and had come
to Chessington to recruit.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF ' EVELINA' 29

my appearing in public — give up my favourite old
hobby-horse.

I came hither the first week in May. My
recovery from that time to this has been slow and
sure, but as I could walk hardly three yards in a
day at first, I found so much time to spare that
I could not resist treating myself with a little
private sport with Evelina, a young lady whom,
I think, I have some right to make free with.
I had promised Hetty l that she should read it to
Mr. Crisp,2 at her own particular request ; but I
wrote my excuses and introduced it myself.

I told him it was a book which Hetty had
taken to Brompton to divert my cousin Richard
during his confinement. He was so indifferent
about it that I thought he would not give him-
self the trouble to read it, and often embarrassed
me by unlucky questions, such as, "If it was
reckoned clever ? " and " What I thought of it ? "
and " Whether folks laughed at it ? " I always
evaded any direct or satisfactory answer, but he
was so totally free from any idea of suspicion that
my perplexity escaped his notice.

At length he desired me to begin reading to
him. I dared not trust my voice with the little
introductory ode, for as that is no romance, but
the sincere effusion of my heart, I could as soon
read aloud my own letters, written in my own
name and character : I therefore skipped it, and
have so kept the book out of his sight that, to
this day, he knows not it is there. Indeed, I
have since heartily repented that I read any of
the book to him, for I found it a much more
awkward thing than I had expected : my voice
quite faltered when I began it, which, however, I

1 Esther or Hetty Burney, Fanny's elder sister, at this time married to
Charles Rousseau Burney of Worcester, her cousin, and a musician.

2 Samuel Crisp, see Editor's Introduction, p. 10.

30 DIARY AND LETTERS OF \m

passed off for the effect of remaining weakness of
lungs, and, in short, from an invincible embarrass-
ment, which I could not for a page together re-
press, the book, by my reading, lost all manner of
spirit.

Nevertheless, though he has by no means
treated it with the praise so lavishly bestowed
upon it from other quarters, I had the satisfaction
to observe that he was even greedily eager to go
on with it, so that I flatter myself the story
caught his attention : and, indeed, allowing for my
mauling reading, he gave it quite as much credit
as I had any reason to expect. But, now that I
was sensible of my error in being my own mistress
of the ceremonies, I determined to leave to Hetty
the third volume, and therefore pretended I had
not brought it. He was in a delightful ill humour
about it, and I enjoyed his impatience far more
than I should have done his forbearance. Hetty,
therefore, when she comes, has undertaken to
bring it.

I have had a visit from my beloved Susy, who,
with my mother and little Sally,1 spent a day here,
to my no small satisfaction ; and yet I was put
into an embarrassment, of which I even yet know
not what will be the end, during their short stay :
for Mr. Crisp, before my mother, very innocently
said to Susan, " Oh, pray Susette, do send me the
third volume of Evelina ; Fanny brought me the
two first on purpose, I believe, to tantalise me."

I felt myself in a ferment; and Susan, too,
looked foolish, and knew not what to answer. As
I sat on the same sofa with him, I gave him a
gentle shove, as a token, which he could not but
understand, that he had said something wrong —

1 Sarah Harriet Burney, Dr. Burney's daughter by his second wife,
Mrs. Elizabeth Allen.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 31

though I believe he could not imagine what.
Indeed, how should he ?

Mymother instantly darted forward, and repeated,
" Evelina — what's that, pray ? "

Again I jolted Mr. Crisp, who, very much per-
plexed, said, in a boggling manner, that it was a
novel — he supposed from the circulating library —
" only a trumpery novel."

Ah, my dear daddy ! thought I, you would have
devised some other sort of speech, if you knew all !
— but he was really, as he well might be, quite at
a loss for what I wanted him to say.

[" You have had it here, then, have you ? " con-
tinued my mother.

" Yes — two of the volumes," said Mr. Crisp.

" What ! had you them from the library ? "
asked my mother.

"No, ma'am," answered I, horribly frightened,
" from my sister."

The truth is, the books are Susan's, who bought
them the first day of publication ; but I did not
dare own that, as it would have been almost an
acknowledgment of all the rest.

She asked some further questions, to which we
made the same sort of answers, and then the matter
dropped. Whether it rests upon her mind or not
I cannot tell.

Susan and I were next forced to exert our wits
for some excuse to Mr. Crisp for my checking him.]

Two days after I received from Charlotte a
letter, the most interesting that could be written to
me, for it acquainted me that my dear father was,
at length, reading my book, which has now been
published six months.

How this has come to pass I am yet in the
dark ; but it seems the very moment almost that
my mother and Susan and Sally left the house, he
desired Charlotte to bring him the Monthly Review ;

32 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ms

she contrived to look over his shoulder as he opened
it, which he did at the account of Evelina ; or, a
Young Ladys Entrance into the World. He read
it with great earnestness, then put it down ; and
presently after snatched it up, and read it again.
Doubtless his paternal heart felt some agitation for
his girl in reading a review of her publication ! —
how he got at the name I cannot imagine.

Soon after he turned to Charlotte, and bidding
her come close to him, he put his finger on the
word Evelina, and saying, she knew what it was,
bade her write down the name, and send the man
to Lowndes, as if for herself. This she did, and
away went William.

[He then told Charlotte that he had never known
the name of it till the day before. 'Tis strange
how he got at it. He added that I had come off
vastly well in this review, except for the Captain}
Charlotte told him it had also been in Kenrick's
review, and he desired her to copy out for him
what was said in both of them. He asked her,
too, whether I had mentioned the work was by
a lady ?]

When William returned he took the books from
him, and the moment he was gone, opened the first
volume — and opened it upon the ode !

How great must have been his astonishment at
seeing himself so addressed ! Indeed, Charlotte
says, he looked all amazement, read a line or two
with great eagerness, and then, stopping short, he
seemed quite affected, and the tears started into
his eyes : dear soul ! I am sure they did into mine,
nay, I even sobbed, as I read the account.

I believe he was obliged to go out before he
advanced much further. But the next day I had
a letter from Susan, in which I heard that he had

1 See last lines of review on p. 28, referring to Captain Mirvan of
Evelina.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 33

begun reading it with Lady Hales and Miss Couss-
maker,1 and that they liked it vastly !

Lady Hales spoke of it very innocently, in the
highest terms, declaring she was sure it was written
by somebody in high life, and that it had all the
marks of real genius ! She added, " he must be a
man of great abilities ! "

[How ridiculous ! but Miss Coussmaker was a
little nearer the truth, for she gave it as her opinion
that the writer was a woman, for she said there was
such a remarkable delicacy in the conversations
and descriptions, notwithstanding the grossness and
vulgarity of some of the characters, and that all
oaths and indelicate words were so carefully, yet
naturally avoided, that she could not but suspect
the writer was a female ; but, she added, notwith-
standing the preface declared that the writer never
would be known, she hoped, if the book circulated,
as she expected it would, he or she would be
tempted to make a discovery.

Ha! ha! ha! that's my answer.] They little
tHink how well they are already acquainted with
the writer they so much honour ! Susan begged
to have, then, my father's real and final opinion ;
— and it is such as I almost blush to write, even
for my own private reading ; but yet is such as
I can by no means suffer to pass unrecorded, as
my whole journal contains nothing so grateful
to me. I will copy his own words, according to
Susan's solemn declaration of their authenticity.

"Upon my word, I think it the best novel I
know, excepting Fielding's, and, in some respects,
better than his ! I have been excessively pleased
with it ; there are, perhaps, a few things that might
have been otherwise. Mirvan's trick upon Lovel

1 Lady Hales was the widow of Sir Thomas Pym Hales, Bt, sometime
M.P. for Dover. He died in 1773. Miss Catherine Coussmaker was her
daughter by a previous marriage.

VOL. I D

34 DIARY AND LETTERS OF i778

is, I think, carried too far, — there is something even
disgusting in it : however, this instance excepted,
I protest I think it will scarce bear an improve-
ment. The language is as good as anybody need
write — I declare as good as I would wish to read.
Lord Orville's character is just what it should be ;
perfectly benevolent and upright ; and there is a
boldness in it that struck me mightily, for he is a
man not ashamed of being better than the rest of
mankind. Evelina is in a new style, too, so per-
fectly innocent and natural ; and the scene between
her and her father, Sir John Belmont, is a scene
for a tragedy ! I blubbered at it, and Lady Hales
and Miss Coussmaker are not yet recovered from
hearing it ; it made them quite ill : it is, indeed,
wrought up in a most extraordinary manner ! "

This account delighted me more than I can
express. How little did I dream of ever being so
much honoured ! But the approbation of all the
world put together, would not bear any competi-
tion, in my estimation, with that of my beloved
father.

He told Susan that Lady H l had bought her

set, and that he heard Lady Radnor had bought
another. So Evelina is still travelling in the great
world \

Soon after this communication my sister Hetty
came hither to spend a few days. Mr. Crisp almost
immediately asked her for the third volume of
Evelina, but as she had not time to stay and read

it, she pretended that it was lent to Mrs. .

While she was with us, though fortunately when
I was not present, he asked her if anybody had yet
been named or suspected for the author. " No,"
she said, " but that it took vastly" and she praised
it very freely, and he assented to all she said.

What will all this come to ? — where will it end ?

1 Hales.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF EVELINA' 35

and when, and how, shall I wake from the vision
of such splendid success ? for I hardly know how
to believe it real.

Well, I cannot but rejoice that I published the
book, little as I ever imagined how it would fare ;
for hitherto it has occasioned me no small diver-
sion, and nothing of the disagreeable sort. But
I often think a change will happen, for I am by
no means so sanguine as to suppose such success
will be uninterrupted. Indeed, in the midst of the
greatest satisfaction that I feel, an inward something
which I cannot account for, prepares me to expect
a reverse ; for the more the book is drawn into
notice, the more exposed it becomes to criticism
and remark.

Miss F. Burney to Dr. Burney

Chessington, Friday, July 25, 1778.

My dear and most kind Father — The request
you have condescended to make me I meant to
anticipate in my last letter. How good you are
to pave the way for my secrets being favourably
received, by sparing your own time and breath to
gain the book attention and partiality ! I can't
express a third part of either the gratitude or plea-
sure I feel upon hearing from Susy, that you are
reading it aloud to my mother ; because I well know
nothing can give it so good a chance with her.

Will you tell, or shall I write to my mother ?
I believe she will not be all surprise, for I fancy
she is not totally without suspicion ; but pray be
so kind as to tell her, that it was not want of con-
fidence in her, but in myself, that occasioned my
reserve and privacy. She knows how severe a
critic I think her, and therefore I am sure cannot
wonder I should dread a lash which I had no other

36 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

hope of escaping from, but flight or disguise.
Indeed, the thoughts of "hot rolls and butter in
July" could not have a more indelicate effect on
my Lord Ogleby,1 than those had upon me which
followed the news of Evelinas visit to St. Martin's
Street.

However, Susan comforts me with assurances
that things are in a pretty good way ; and there-
fore I am willing to flatter myself that, hearing
who is the writer will rather serve to blunt than to
sharpen the edge of criticism. I am sure it does
with you, or your patience and precious time could
never wade through three volumes of that sort ;
and I encourage myself, in regard to my mother,
with the knowledge that no person's feelings will
be so likely to prove infectious to her as yours.
She must not be angry if I own I heartily hope
she will not escape the contagion.

My mother will the sooner pardon my privacy,
when she hears that even from you I used every
method in my power to keep my trash concealed,
and that I even yet know not in what manner you
got at the name of it. Indeed, I only proposed,
like my friends the Miss JBranghtons, a little
" private fun," and never once dreamt of extending
my confidence beyond my sisters.

As to Mrs. Thrale2 — your wish of telling her
quite unmans me ; I shook so, when I read it,
that, had anybody been present, I must have
betrayed myself; and, indeed, many of my late
letters have given me such extreme surprise and
perturbation, that I believe nothing could have
saved me from Mr. Crisp's discernment, had he
seen me during my first reading. However, he
has not an idea of the kind.

1 The Clandestine Marriage, 1766, Act ii. (p. 26).

2 Mrs. Thrale, n6e Hester Lynch Salusbury, 1741-1821, soon to be Miss
Burney's fast friend. Dr. Burney was music-master to Mrs. Thrale'
eldest daughter.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 37

But, if you do tell Mrs. Thrale, won't she think
it strange where I can have kept company, to
describe such a family as the Branghtons, Mr.
Brown, and some others ? Indeed (thank Heaven !),
I don't myself recollect ever passing half an hour
at a time with any one person quite so bad ; so
that, I am afraid she will conclude I must have an
innate vulgarity of ideas, to assist me with such
coarse colouring for the objects of my imagination.
Not that I suppose the book would be better
received by her, for having characters very pretty,
and all alike. My only fear, in regard to that
particular, is for poor Miss Bayes ! — If I were able
to "insinuate the plot into the boxes,"1 I should
build my defence upon Swift's maxim, that "a
nice man is a man of nasty ideas."2 I should
certainly have been more finical, had I foreseen
what had happened, or had the most remote notion
of being known by Mrs. Thrale for the scribe.
However, 'tis perhaps as well as it is ; for these
kind of compositions lose all their spirit if they are
too scrupulously corrected : besides, if I had been
very nice, I must have cleared away so much,
that, like poor Mr. Twiss3 after his friends had
been so obliging as to give his book a scourge,
nothing but humdrum matter of fact would be
left.

Adieu, my dearest sir. Pray give my duty to
my mother, and pray let her know, after the great
gun is gone off, that 1 shall anxiously wait to hear
her opinion : and believe me ever and ever, your
dutiful and most affectionate,

Francesca Scriblerus.

1 The Rehearsal, 1672, Act. I. Sc. i., the reference being to the " printed
Papers " in which Dryden explained the plot of the Indian Emperor, 1667.

2 This— scarcely a " maxim "—is one of Swift's Thoughts on Various
Subjects (Bell's Swift's Prose Works, 1897, i. 281).

3 Richard Twiss, 1747-1821, whose Travels through Portugal and Spain
were published in 1775.

38 DIARY AND LETTERS OF i7rs

Journal resumed

July 25. — Mrs. Cholmondeley * has been reading
and praising Evelina, and my father is quite de-
lighted at her approbation, and told Susan that
I could not have had a greater compliment than
making two such women my friends as Mrs.
Thrale and Mrs. Cholmondeley, for they were
severe and knowing, and afraid of praising a tort et
a tr avers, as their opinions are liable to be quoted.

Mrs. Thrale said she had only to complain it
was too short. She recommended it to my mother
to read ! — how droll ! — and she told her she would
be much entertained with it, for there was a great
deal of human life in it, and of the manners of the
present times, and added it was written " by some-
body who knows the top and the bottom, the
highest and the lowest of mankind."2 She has
even lent her set to my mother, who brought it
home with her !

By the way, I have again resumed my corre-
spondence with my friend Mr. Lowndes. When I
sent the errata I desired to have a set, directed to
Mr. Grafton, at the Orange CofFee-House ; for I
had no copy but the one he sent me to make the
errata from, which was incomplete and unbound.
However, I heard nothing at all from him ; and
therefore, after some consideration, and much
demur, I determined to make an attempt once
more ; for my father told me it was a shame that
I, the author, should not have even one set of my
own work ; I ought, he said, to have had six ; and
indeed, he is often quite enraged that Lowndes
gave no more for the MS. — but I was satisfied —
and that sufficed.

1 Mary, the sister of Margaret or " Peg " Woffington, the actress. She
married the Hon. and Rev. Robert Cholmondeley.

2 Early Diary ; 1889, ii. 238. The story of Evelina is told at length
in chap. iii. of Eanny Burney (Men of Letters Series), 1903, pp. 61-87.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF ' EVELINA' 39

I therefore wrote him word, that I supposed, in
the hurry of his business, and variety of his con-
cerns, he had forgotten my request, which I now
repeated. [I also added, that if ever the book went
through another edition, I should be glad to have
timely notice, as I had some corrections and
alterations to propose.]

I received an immediate answer, and intelligence
from my sisters, that he had sent a set of Evelina,
most elegantly bound. The answer I will copy.

[Fleet Street, July 2, 1778.

Sir — I bound up a set for you the first day I
had them, and hoped by some means to hear from
you. The Great World send here to buy Evelina.
A polite lady said, " Do, Mr. Lowndes, give me
Evelina. I am treated as unfashionable for not
having read it." I think the impression will be
sold by Christmas. If meantime, or about that
time, you favour me with any commands, I shall
be proud to observe them. — Your obliged servant,

T. Lowndes.

To Mr. Grafton.]

Miss F. Burney to Miss S. Burney

Chessington, July 5, 1778.

My dearest Susy — Don't you think there
must be some wager depending among the little
curled imps who hover over us mortals, of how
much flummery goes to turn the head of an
authoress ? Your last communication very near
did my business ; for, meeting Mr. Crisp ere I had
composed myself, I "tipt him such a touch of the
heroics" as he has not seen since the time when
I was so much celebrated for dancing "Nancy

40 DIARY AND LETTERS OF im

Dawson." J I absolutely longed to treat him with
one of Captain Mirvan's frolics, and to fling his
wig out of the window. I restrained myself,
however, from the apprehension that they would
imagine I had a universal spite to that harmless
piece of goods, which I have already been known
to treat with no little indignity. He would fain
have discovered the reason of my skittishness ; but
as I could not tell it him, I was obliged to assure
him it would be lost time to inquire further into
my flights, since "true no meaning puzzles more
than wit," 2 and therefore, begging the favour of him
to " set me down an ass" I suddenly retreated.

My dear, dear Dr. Johnson ! what a charming
man you are ! 3 Mrs. Cholmondeley, too, I am not
merely prepared but determined to admire ; for
really she has shown so much penetration and
sound sense of late, that I think she will bring
about a union between Wit and Judgment, though
their separation has been so long, and though their
meetings have been so few.

But, Mrs. Thrale ! she — she is the goddess of
my idolatry ! What an eloge is hers ! — an eloge
that not only delights at first, but proves more and
more flattering every time it is considered ! 4

I often think, when I am counting my laurels,
what a pity it would have been had I popped off in
my last illness, without knowing what a person of
consequence I was ! — and I sometimes think that,
were I now to have a relapse, I could never go off
with so much eclat ! I am now at the summit of
a high hill ; my prospects on one side are bright,

1 A hornpipe in the Beggar's Opera, called after a famous dancer, who
died in 1767 (see post, Mr. Crisp's letter of January 1779).

2 Pope, Of the Characters of Women, 1735, 1. 114.

3 Fanny had already seen Dr. Samuel Johnson (1709-84) in March
1777, when he had visited her home in St. Martin's Street, and she had
now heard from her sister Susan that he had been speaking of Evelina to
Mrs. Thrale (Early Diary, 1889, ii. 234, 235).

4 See ante, p. 38.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 41

glowing, and invitingly beautiful ; but when I turn
round, I perceive, on the other side, sundry caverns,
gulphs, pits, and precipices, that, to look at, make
my head giddy and my heart sick. I see about
me, indeed, many hills of far greater height and
sublimity ; but I have not the strength to attempt
climbing them ; if I move, it must be downwards.
I have already, I fear, reached the pinnacle of my
abilities, and therefore to stand still will be my
best policy.

But there is nothing under heaven so difficult to
do. Creatures who are formed for motion must
move, however great their inducements to forbear.
The wisest course I could take, would be to bid an
eternal adieu to writing ; then would the cry be,
" 'Tis pity she does not go on ! — she might do
something better by and by," etc., etc. Evelina,
as a first and a youthful publication, has been
received with the utmost favour and lenity ; but
would a future attempt be treated with the same
mercy ? — no, my dear Susy, quite the contrary ;
there would not, indeed, be the same plea to save
it ; it would no longer be a young lady's first
appearance in public ; those who have met with
less indulgence would all peck at any second work ;
and even those who most encouraged the first off-
spring might prove enemies to the second, by
receiving it with expectations which it could not
answer : and so, between either the friends or the
foes of the eldest, the second would stand an
equally bad chance, and a million of flaws which
were overlooked in the former would be ridiculed
as villainous and intolerable blunders in the latter.

But, though my eyes ache as I strain them to
look forward, the temptations before me are almost
irresistible ; and what you have transcribed from
Mrs. Thrale may, perhaps, prove my destruction.

So you wish to have some of the sayings of the

42 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ins

folks here about the book ? I am sure I owe you
all the communications I can possibly give you ;
but I have nothing new to offer, for the same
strain prevails here as in town ; and no one will be
so obliging to me as to put in a little abuse : so
that I fear you will be satiated with the same-
ness of people's remarks. Yet, what can I do ? If
they will be so disagreeable and tiresome as to be
all of one mind, how is it to be helped ? I can
only advise you to follow my example, which is, to
accommodate my philosophy to their insipidity ;
and in this I have so wonderfully succeeded, that I
hear their commendations not merely with patience,
but even with a degree of pleasure ! Such, my
dear Susy, is the effect of true philosophy.

You desire Kitty Cooke's 1 remarks in particular.
I have none to give you, for none can I get. To
the serious part she indeed listens, and seems to
think it may possibly be very fine ; but she is quite
lost when the Branghtons and Madame Duval are
mentioned ; she hears their speeches very com-
posedly, and as words of course ; but when she
hears them followed by loud bursts of laughter
from Hetty, Mr. Crisp, Mrs. Gast,2 and Mr. Burney,3
she stares with the gravest amazement, and looks
so aghast, and so distressed to know where the
joke can be, that I never dare trust myself to look
at her for more than an instant. Were she to
speak her thoughts, I am sure she would ask why
such common things, that pass every day, should
be printed ? And all the derision with which the
party in general treat the Branghtons, I can see she
feels herself, with a plentiful addition of astonish-
ment, for the author !

By the way, not a human being here has the
most remote suspicion of the fact ; I could not be

1 See Editor's Introduction, p. 11. 2 Ibid. p. 11.

3 Charles Rousseau Burney, Hetty's husband.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 43

more secure, were I literally unknown to them.
And there is no end to the ridiculous speeches
perpetually made to me, by all of them in turn,
though quite by accident.

" A n't you sorry this sweet book is done ? " said
Mrs. Gast.

A silly little laugh was the answer.

" Ah ! " said Patty, " 'tis the sweetest book !—
don't you think so, Miss Burney ? "

JV.B. — Answer as above.

"Pray, Miss Fan," says Mrs. Hamilton,1 "who
wrote it ? "

" Really I never heard."

'Cute enough that, Miss Sukey !

I desired Hetty to miss the verses ; for I can't
sit them : and I have been obliged to hide the first
volume ever since, for fear of a discovery. But I
don't know how it will end ; for Mrs. Gast has de-
clared she shall buy it, to take to Bur ford with her.

From the Same to the Same

Chessington, Sunday, July 6, 1778.

Your letter, my dearest Susan, and the enclosed
one from Lowndes, have flung me into such a
vehement perturbation, that I hardly can tell
whether I wake or dream, and it is even with
difficulty that I can fetch my breath. I have been
strolling round the garden three or four times, in
hopes of regaining a little quietness. However,
I am not very angry at my inward disturbance,
though it even exceeds what I experienced from
the Monthly Review,

My dear Susy, what a wonderful affair has this
been, and how extraordinary is this torrent of
success, which sweeps down all before it ! I often

1 See Editor's Introduction, p. 11.

44 DIARY AND LETTERS OF \m

think it too much, nay, almost wish it would
happen to some other person, who had more
ambition, whose hopes were more sanguine, and
who could less have borne to be buried in the
oblivion which I even sought. But though it
might have been better bestowed, it could by no
one be more gratefully received.

Indeed I can't help being grave upon the
subject ; for a success so really unexpected almost
overpowers me. I wonder at myself that my
spirits are not more elated. I believe half the
flattery I have had would have made me madly
merry ; but all serves only to almost depress me
by the fulness of heart it occasions.

I have been serving Daddy Crisp a pretty trick
this morning. How he would rail if he found it
all out ! I had a fancy to dive pretty deeply into
the real rank in which he held my book ; so I told
him that your last letter acquainted me who was
reported to be the author of Evelina, I added
that it was a profound secret, and he must by no
means mention it to a human being. He bid me
tell him directly, according to his usual style of
command — but I insisted upon his guessing.

" I can't guess," said he ; " maybe it is you ! "

Thought I, what do you mean by that ?

" Pooh, nonsense ! " cried I, " what should make
you think of me ? "

" Why, you look guilty," answered he.

This was a horrible home stroke. Thought I —
I shall owe them a grudge for this ! however, I
found it was a mere random shot, and, without
much difficulty, I laughed it to scorn.

And who do you think he guessed next ? — My
father ! — there's for you ! and several questions he
asked me, whether he had lately been shut up
much, and so on. And this was not all — for

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 45

he afterwards guessed Mrs. Thrale and Mrs.
Greville.1

There's honour and glory for you ! I assure you
I grinned prodigiously.

He then would guess no more. So I served
him another trick for his laziness. I read a para-
graph in your last letter (which, perhaps, you may
not perfectly remember), in which you say the
private report is, that the author is a son of the
late Dr. Friend, my likeness.

Now this son is a darling of my daddy's, who
reckons him the most sensible and intelligent young
man of his acquaintance ; so I trembled a few, for,
I thought, ten to one but he'd say — " He ? — not
he — I promise you!" But no such thing — his
immediate answer was : " Well, he's very capable
of that or anything else."

I grinned broader than before.

And here the matter rests. I shan't undeceive
him, at least till he has finished the book.

Journal resumed

July 20. — I have had a letter from my beloved
father — the kindest, sweetest letter in the world !
He tells me too, that he found Mrs. Thrale full of
Ma fois jokes, the Captain's brutality, Squire
Smith's gentility, Sir Clement's audaciousness, the
Branghtons' vulgarity, and Mother Selwyn's sharp
knife, etc., etc. He then says, that he wishes to
tell Lady Hales, though she cannot be made more
fond of the book by a personal partiality for the
author. He concludes with : " I never heard of
a novel writer's statue — yet, who knows ? — but
above all things take care of your head ; if that
should be at all turned out of its place by all this

1 Mrs. Greville (see Editor's Introduction, p. 10) was Fanny's god-
mother.

46 DIARY AND LETTERS OF im

intoxicating success, what a figure would you cut
upon a pedestal— prenez y bien ga?~de ! "

Well may he caution me ! — but, as I have told
him in answer, if I were to make so ungrateful, so
sinful a return for the favours of fortune, as to be
ridiculously vain, I should think all this success,
charming as it is, bought much too dear.

I have also had a letter from Susanne. She
informs me that my father, when he took the
books back to Streatham, actually acquainted Mrs.
Thrale with my secret. He took an opportunity,
when they were alone together, of saying that upon
her recommendation, he had himself, as well as my
mother, been reading Evelina.

" Well ! " cried she, " and is it not a very pretty
book ? and a very clever book ? and a very comical
book ? "

" Why," answered he, " 'tis well enough ; but I
have something to tell you about it."

" Well ? what ? " cried she ; " has Mrs. Cholm-
ondeley found out the author ? "

"No," returned he, "not that I know of; but
I believe / have, though but very lately."

" Well, pray let's hear ! " cried she eagerly, " I
want to know him of all things."

How my father must laugh at the him ! He
then, however, undeceived her in regard to that
particular, by telling her it was " our Fanny ! " for
she knows all about all our family, as my father
talks to her of his domestic concerns without any
reserve.

A hundred handsome things, of course, followed ;
and she afterwards read some of the comic parts to
Dr. Johnson, Mr. Thrale, and whoever came near
her. How I should have quivered had I been
there ! but they tell me that Dr. Johnson laughed
as heartily as my father himself did.

Nothing can be more ridiculous than the scenes

1778 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 47

in which I am almost perpetually engaged. Mr.
Crisp, who is totally without suspicion, says, almost
daily, something that has double the meaning he
intends to convey ; for, as I am often writing,
either letters, Italian, or some of my own vagaries,
he commonly calls me the scribe, and the authoress ;
asks when I shall print ; says he will have all my
works on royal paper, etc. ; and the other day Mrs.
Gast, who frequently lectures me about studying
too hard, and injuring my health, said —

"Pray, Miss Burney, now you write so much,
when do you intend to publish ? "

" Publish ? " cried Mr. Crisp, " why, she has pub-
lished ; she brought out a book the other day that
has made a great noise — Evelina, — and she bribed
the reviewers to speak well of it, and set it a-
going."

I was almost ready to run out of the room ; but,
though the hit was so palpable in regard to the
book, what he said of the reviewers was so much
the contrary that it checked my alarm : indeed,
had he the most remote idea of the truth, he would
be the last man to have hinted at it before a room-
ful of people.

[" Oh ! " cried I, as composedly as I could, " that
is but a small part of my authorship — I shall give
you a list of my folios soon."

They had all some jocularity upon the occasion,
but I found I was perfectly safe ; indeed, my best
security is, that my daddy (i.e. Crisp) concludes the
author to be a man, and all the rest follow as he
leads.

Mr. Burney yesterday, after dinner, said —
" Gentlemen and ladies, I'll propose a toast " :
then, filling his glass, he drank to " The author of
Evelina.'"

Had they known the author was present they
could not have more civilly accepted the toast ; it

48 DIARY AND LETTERS OF \m

was a bold kind of drollery in Mr. Burney, for I was
fain to drink my own health in a bumper, which he
filled for me, laughing heartily himself.]

August 3. — I have an immensity to write.
Susan has copied me a letter which Mrs. Thrale
has written to my father, upon the occasion of
returning my mother two novels by Madame
Riccoboni.1 It is so honourable to me, and so
sweet in her, that I must copy it for my faithful
journal.

Wednesday, 22 [July], 1778,
Streatham.

"Dear Sir — I forgot to give you the novels
home in your carriage which I now send by Mr.
Abingdon's. Evelina certainly excels them far
enough, both in probability of story, elegance of
sentiment, and general power over the mind,
whether exerted in humour or pathos. Add to
this, that Riccoboni is a veteran author, and all
she ever can be ; but I cannot tell what might
not be expected from Evelina, was she to try
her genius at Comedy. So far had I written
of my letter, when Mr. Johnson returned home,
full of the praises of the Book I had lent him,
and protesting there were passages in it which
might do honour to Richardson. We talk of it
for ever, and he feels ardent after the denouement ;
he could not get rid of the Rogue, he said ! I lent
him the second volume, and he is now busy
with the other two (sic). You must be more a
philosopher, and less a father, than I wish you, not
to be pleased with this letter ; — and the giving such
pleasure yields to nothing but receiving it. Long,

1 Marie-Jeanne de Heurles de Laboras, Mme. Riccoboni, died 1792,
translated Fielding's Amelia and Kelly's False Delicacy into French, and
continued Marivaux's Marianne. She wrote several sentimental novels,
one of which was translated as Lady Catesby's Letters.

FACSIMILE

Of Mrs Thrale's Letter to Dr. Burney as to Evelina, July 22, 1778

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1778 THE AUTHOR OF ' EVELINA' 49

my Dear Sir, may you live to enjoy the just praises
of your children ! and long may they live to deserve
and delight such a parent ! These are things that
you would say in verse ; but Poetry implies Fiction,
and all this is naked truth.

Give my letter to my little friend, and a warm
invitation to come and eat fruit while the season
lasts. My Compliments to Mrs. Burney, and
kindest wishes to all your flock, etc." 1

[How sweet, how amiable in this charming
woman is her desire of making my dear father
satisfied with his scribbler's attempt ! I do, indeed,
feel the most grateful love for her.]

But Dr. Johnson's approbation ! — it almost
crazed me with agreeable surprise — it gave me
such a flight of spirits, that I danced a jig to Mr.
Crisp, without any preparation, music, or explana-
tion— to his no small amazement and diversion.2
I left him, however, to make his own comments
upon my friskiness, without affording him the
smallest assistance.

Susan also writes me word, that when my father
went last to Streatham Dr. Johnson was not there,
but Mrs. Thrale told him, that when he gave her
the first volume of Evelina, which she had lent
him, he said, " Why, madam, why, what a charm-
ing book you lent me ! " and eagerly inquired for
the rest. He was particularly pleased with the
Snow-hill scenes, and said that Mr. Smith's vulgar
gentility was admirably portrayed ; and when Sir
Clement joins them, he said there was a shade
of character prodigiously well marked. Well may

1 The above version of this important letter is based directly upon the
autograph {see facsimile at p. 48) ; but it follows Mrs. Barrett in omitting
a few irrelevant words at the close.

2 The scene of this impromptu performance, as she told Sir Walter
Scott, forty-eight years afterwards {Journal, 1891, i. 309), was a mulberry
tree in the garden at Chessington.

VOL. I E

50 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

it be said, that the greatest minds are ever the most
candid to the inferior set ! I think I should love
Dr. Johnson for such lenity to a poor mere worm
in literature, even if I were not myself the identical
grub he has obliged.

Susan has sent me a little note which has really
been less pleasant to me, because it has alarmed
me for my future concealment. It is from Mrs.
Williams, an exceeding pretty poetess, who has the
misfortune to be blind, but who has, to make some
amends, the honour of residing in the house of
Dr. Johnson : for though he lives almost wholly at
Streatham, he always keeps his apartments in town,
and this lady acts as mistress of his house.1

" July 25.

" Mrs. Williams sends compliments to Dr. Burney,
and begs he will intercede with Miss Burney to do
her the favour to lend her the reading o£ Evelina"

[I was quite confounded at this request, which
proves that Mrs. Thrale has told Dr. Johnson of
my secret, and that he has told Mrs. Williams, and
that she has told the person whoever it be, whom
she got to write the note.

I instantly scrawled a hasty letter to town to
entreat my father would be so good as to write to
her, to acquaint her with my earnest and unaffected
desire to remain unknown.

And yet] I am frightened at this affair, I am by
no means insensible to the honour which I receive
from the certainty that Dr. Johnson must have
spoken very well of the book, to have induced
Mrs. Williams to send to our house for it. [She
has known my father indeed for some years, but
not with any intimacy ; and I never saw her,

1 Anna Williams, 1706-83. She had lived with Dr. Johnson from 1752.
Her Miscellanies in Prose and Verse were published in 1766.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 51

though the perusal of her poems has often made
me wish to be acquainted with her.]

I now come to last Saturday evening, when my
beloved father came to Chessington, in full health,
charming spirits, and all kindness, openness, and
entertainment.

[I inquired what he had done about Mrs.
Williams. He told me he went to her himself
at my desire, for if he had written she could not
herself have read the note. She apologised very
much for the liberty she had taken, and spoke
highly of the book, though she had only heard the
first volume, as she was dependent upon a lady's
good nature and time for hearing any part of it ;
but she went so far as to say that " his daughter
was certainly the first writer, in that way, now
living ! "]

In his way hither he had stopped at Streatham,
and he settled with Mrs. Thrale that he would call
on her again in his way to town, and carry me with
him ! and Mrs. Thrale said, " We all long to know
her."

I have been in a kind of twitter ever since, for
there seems something very formidable in the idea
of appearing as an authoress ! I ever dreaded it,
as it is a title which must raise more expectations
than I have any chance of answering. Yet I am
highly flattered by her invitation, and highly
delighted in the prospect of being introduced to
the Streatham society.

She sent me some very serious advice to write
for the theatre, as, she says, I so naturally run into
conversations, that Evelina absolutely and plainly
points out that path to me ; and she hinted how
much she should be pleased to be " honoured with
my confidence."

My dear father communicated this intelligence,
and a great deal more, with a pleasure that almost

52 DIARY AND LETTERS OF nrs

surpassed that with which I heard it, and he seems
quite eager for me to make another attempt. He
desired to take upon himself the communication
to my daddy Crisp, and as it is now in so many
hands that it is possible accident might discover it
to him, I readily consented.

Sunday evening, as I was going into my father's
room I heard him say, " The variety of characters
— the variety of scenes — and the language — why
she has had very little education but what she has
given herself, — less than any of the others I " and
Mr. Crisp exclaimed, "Wonderful — it's wonderful!"

I now found what was going forward, and there-
fore deemed it most fitting to decamp.

About an hour after, as I was passing through
the hall, I met my daddy (Crisp). His face was
all animation and archness ; he doubled his fist at
me, and would have stopped me, but I ran past
him into the parlour.

Before supper, however, I again met him, and
he would not suffer me to escape ; he caught both
my hands, and looked as if he would have looked
me through, and then exclaimed, " Why you little
hussy, — you young devil ! — an't you ashamed to
look me in the face, you Evelina, you ! Why,
what a dance have you led me about it ! Young
friend, indeed ! Oh you little hussy, what tricks
have you served me ! "

I was obliged to allow of his running on with
these gentle appellations for I know not how long,
ere he could sufficiently compose himself after his
great surprise, to ask or hear any particulars ; and
then, he broke out every three instants with
exclamations of astonishment at how I had found
time to write so much unsuspected, and how and
where I had picked up such various materials ; and
not a few times did he, with me, as he had with
my father, exclaim, " Wonderful ! "

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 53

He has, since, made me read him all my letters
upon this subject. He said Lowndes would have
made an estate had he given me £1000 for it, and
that he ought not to have given less ! " You have
nothing to do now," continued he, "but to take
your pen in hand, for your fame and reputation
are made, and any bookseller will snap at what you
write."

I then told him that I could not but really and
unaffectedly regret that the affair was spread to
Mrs. Williams and her friends.

" Pho," said he, " if those who are proper judges
think it right that it should be known, why should
you trouble yourself about it? You have not
spread it, there can be no imputation of vanity fall
to your share, and it cannot come out more to
your honour than through such a channel as Mrs.
Thrale."

London, August, — I have now to write an ac-
count of the most consequential day I have spent
since my birth : namely, my Streatham visit.

Our journey to Streatham was the least pleas-
ant part of the day, for the roads were dreadfully
dusty, and I was really in the fidgets from thinking
what my reception might be, and from fearing they
would expect a less awkward and backward kind
of person than I was sure they would find.

Mr. Thrale's house * is white, and very pleas-
antly situated, in a fine paddock. Mrs. Thrale was
strolling about, and came to us as we got out of
the chaise.

[" Ah," cried she, " I hear Dr. Burney's voice !
And you have brought your daughter ? — well, now
you are good ! "]

1 Streatham Place no longer exists, having been pulled down in 1863.
Its site was the southern side of the lower common between Streatham
and Tooting.

54 DIARY AND LETTERS OF \m

She then received me, taking both my hands,
and with mixed politeness and cordiality welcom-
ing me to Streatham. She led me into the house,
and addressed herself almost wholly for a few
minutes to my father, as if to give me an assurance
she did not mean to regard me as a show, or to
distress or frighten me by drawing me out. After-
wards she took me upstairs, and showed me the
house, and said she had very much wished to see
me at Streatham, and should always think herself
much obliged to Dr. Burney for his goodness in
bringing me, which she looked upon as a very
great favour.

But though we were some time together, and
though she was so very civil, she did not hint at
my book, and I love her much more than ever for
her delicacy in avoiding a subject which she could
not but see would have greatly embarrassed me.

When we returned to the music-room we found
Miss Thrale was with my father.1 Miss Thrale is
a very fine girl, about fourteen years of age, but
cold and reserved, though full of knowledge and
intelligence.

Soon after, Mrs. Thrale took me to the library ;
she talked a little while upon common topics, and
then, at last, she mentioned Evelina.

" Yesterday at supper," said she, " we talked it
all over, and discussed all your characters ; but Dr.
Johnson's favourite is Mr. Smith. He declares
the fine gentleman manque was never better drawn ;
and he acted him all the evening, saying he was
6 all for the ladies ! ' He repeated whole scenes by
heart. I declare I was astonished at him. Oh
you can't imagine how much he is pleased with

1 Hester Maria, Mrs. Thrale's eldest daughter, 1764-1857. Johnson
called her " Queenie," after Queen Esther. She was married in 1808 to
George Keith Elphinstone, Admiral and Viscount Keith. Miss Burney
had already seen her at St. Martin's Street in March 1777 (Early Diary,
1889, ii. 153).

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 55

the book ; he ' could not get rid of the rogue,' he
told me. But was it not droll," said she, " that I
should recommend it to Dr. Burney? and tease
him, so innocently, to read it ? "

I now prevailed upon Mrs. Thrale to let me
amuse myself, and she went to dress. I then
prowled about to choose some book, and I saw,
upon the reading - table, Evelina. — I had just
fixed upon a new translation of Cicero's Lcelius1
when the library-door was opened, and Mr. Seward 2
entered. I instantly put away my book, because I
dreaded being thought studious and affected. He
offered his service to find anything for me, and
then, in the same breath, ran on to speak of the
book with which I had myself " favoured the
world ! "

The exact words he began with I cannot recol-
lect, for I was actually confounded by the attack ;
and his abrupt manner of letting me know he
was au fait equally astonished and provoked me.
How different from the delicacy of Mr. and Mrs.
Thrale !

When we were summoned to dinner, Mrs. Thrale
made my father and me sit on each side of her. I
said that I hoped I did not take Dr. Johnson's
place ; for he had not yet appeared.

"No," answered Mrs. Thrale, "he will sit by
you, which I am sure will give him great pleasure."

Soon after we were seated, this great man

1 Lcelius: an Essay on Friendship, by Marcus Tullius Cicero. With
remarks by William Melmoth, Esq., 1777.

2 William Seward, 1747-99, an amiable and accomplished valetudinarian
(Mrs. Thrale said "hypochondriac "). He was the son of a rich brewer
(Calvert and Seward), but a man of literary tastes, a friend of Johnson and
Mrs. Thrale, and a member of the Essex Club. Miss Burney had already
seen him at St. Martin's Street (Early Diary, 1889, ii. 153) in 1777. He
wrote the Drossiana in the European Magazine for 1789, afterwards
the basis of his Anecdotes of some Distinguished Persons, 5 vols., 1795-97,
and Biographiana, 2 vols., 1799. T. J. Mathias, who, in the Pursuits of
Literature, 7th ed., 1798, p. 120, dubs Seward a "publick bagman," never-
theless prefers him to " every compiler of anecdotes, except the Hon. Mr.
Horace Walpole, now Lord Orford " (Note, dated 1796).

56 DIARY AND LETTERS OF \m

entered. I have so true a veneration for him, that
the very sight of him inspires me with delight and
reverence, notwithstanding the cruel infirmities to
which he is subject ; for he has almost perpetual
convulsive movements, either of his hands, lips,
feet, or knees, and sometimes of all together.1

Mrs. Thrale introduced me to him, and he took
his place. We had a noble dinner, and a most
elegant dessert. Dr. Johnson, in the middle of
dinner, asked Mrs. Thrale what was in some little
pies that were near him.

"Mutton," answered she, "so I don't ask you
to eat any, because I know you despise it."

" No, madam, no," cried he ; "I despise nothing
that is good of its sort ; but I am too proud now
to eat of it. Sitting by Miss Burney makes me
very proud to-day ! "

"Miss Burney," said Mrs. Thrale, laughing,
" you must take great care of your heart if Dr.
Johnson attacks it ; for I assure you he is not
often successless."

" What's that you say, madam ? " cried he ; " are
you making mischief between the young lady and
me already ? "

A little while after he drank Miss Thrale's
health and mine, and then added :

" 'Tis a terrible thing that we cannot wish young
ladies well, without wishing them to become old
women ! "

" But some people," said Mr. Seward, " are old
and young at the same time, for they wear so well
that they never look old."

" No, sir, no, " cried the Doctor, laughing ; " that
never yet was ; you might as well say they are at

1 " His mouth is almost constantly opening and shutting as if he was
chewing. He has a strange method of frequently twisting his fingers,
and twisting his hands. His body is in continual agitation, see-sawing
up and down ; his feet are never a moment quiet ; and, in short, his whole
person is in perpetual motion " {Early Diary, 1889, ii. 154).

1778 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 57

the same time tall and short. I remember an

epitaph to that purpose, which is in "

(I have quite forgot what, — and also the name
it was made upon, but the rest I recollect exactly: )

" lies buried here ;

So early wise, so lasting fair,

That none, unless her years you told,

Thought her a child, or thought her old."

Mrs. Thrale then repeated some lines in French,
and Dr. Johnson some more in Latin. An epilogue
of Mr. Garrick's to Bonduca l was then mentioned,
and Dr. Johnson said it was a miserable perform-
ance, and everybody agreed it was the worst he had
ever made.

" And yet/' said Mr. Seward, " it has been very
much admired ; but it is in praise of English valour,
and so I suppose the subject made it popular."

" I don't know, sir," said Dr. Johnson, " any-
thing about the subject, for I could not read on
till I came to it ; I got through half a dozen lines,
but I could observe no other subject than eternal
dulness. I don't know what is the matter with
David ; I am afraid he is grown superannu-
ated, for his prologues and epilogues used to be
incomparable."

"Nothing is so fatiguing," said Mrs. Thrale,
" as the life of a wit : he and Wilkes 2 are the two
oldest men of their ages I know ; for they have
both worn themselves out, by being eternally on the
rack to give entertainment to others."

" David, madam," said the Doctor, " looks much
older than he is ; for his face has had double the
business of any other man's ; it is never at rest ;
when he speaks one minute, he has quite a different

1 A tragedy, altered from Beaumont and Fletcher by George Colman
the Elder ; and acted at the Haymarket in July 1778. Garrick's Prologue
(not Epilogue) is printed in the Gentleman's Magazine for September, and
in the Annual Register for 1778, pp. 199-210.

2 John Wilkes, 1727-97, the politician.

58 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

countenance to what he assumes the next ; I don't
believe he ever kept the same look for half an hour
together, in the whole course of his life ; and such
an eternal, restless, fatiguing play of the muscles,
must certainly wear out a man's face before its
real time.''

" Oh yes," cried Mrs. Thrale, " we must certainly
make some allowance for such wear and tear of a
man's face."

The next name that was started, was that of
Sir John Hawkins : 1 and Mrs. Thrale said, " Why
now, Dr. Johnson, he is another of those whom
you suffer nobody to abuse but yourself; Garrick
is one, too ; for if any other person speaks against
him, you browbeat him in a minute ! "

"Why, madam," answered he, "they don't
know when to abuse him, and when to praise him ;
I will allow no man to speak ill of David that he
does not deserve ; and as to Sir John, why really
I believe him to be an honest man at the bottom :
but to be sure he is penurious, and he is mean,
and it must be owned he has a degree of brutality,
and a tendency to savageness, that cannot easily be
defended."

We all laughed, as he meant we should, at this
curious manner of speaking in his favour, and he
then related an anecdote that he said he knew to
be true in regard to his meanness. He said that
Sir John and he once belonged to the same club,
but that as he eat no supper after the first night
of his admission, he desired to be excused paying
his share.2

1 Sir John Hawkins, 1719-89, author, like Dr. Burney, of a History of
Music, 5 vols. , 1776. Judging from the character of him given by Johnson
(whose Life Hawkins wrote in 1787) and from the account given of him
in Prior's Life ofEdmond Malone, 1860, pp. 425-27, he can hardly have been
an agreeable man. His penuriousness is exemplified by his charging
coach hire as Johnson's executor.

2 The club referred to was probably the Ivy Lane Club, which met
every Tuesday at the King's Head in Ivy Lane, Paternoster Row, from

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 59

" And was he excused ? "

" Oh yes ; for no man is angry at another for
being inferior to himself ! we all scorned him, and
admitted his plea. For my part I was such a
fool as to pay my share for wine, though I never
tasted any. But Sir John was a most unclubable
man ! "

[How delighted was I to hear this master of
languages so unaffectedly and sociably and good-
naturedly make words, for the promotion of sport
and good-humour.]

"And this," continued he, "reminds me of a
gentleman and lady with whom I travelled once ;
I suppose I must call them gentleman and lady,
according to form, because they travelled in their
own coach and four horses. But at the first inn
where we stopped, the lady called for — a pint of
ale ! and when it came, quarrelled with the waiter
for not giving full measure. — Now, Madame
Duval 1 could not have done a grosser thing ! "

Oh, how everybody laughed ! and to be sure I
did not glow at all, nor munch fast, nor look on
my plate, nor lose any part of my usual com-
posure ! But how grateful do I feel to this dear
Dr. Johnson, for never naming me and the book
as belonging one to the other, and yet making an
allusion that showed his thoughts led to it, and,
at the same time, that seemed to justify the
character as being natural ! But, indeed, the
delicacy I met with from him, and from all the
Thrales, was yet more flattering to me than the
praise with which I have heard they have honoured
my book.

After dinner, when Mrs. Thrale and I left the
gentlemen, we had a conversation that to me

1749 to 1756. But Hawkins was also a member of the famous Literary
Club.

1 A character in Evelina, originally a waitress at a tavern.

60 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ms

could not but be delightful, as she was all good-
humour, spirits, sense and agreeability} Surely I
may make words, when at a loss, if Dr. Johnson
does.

[However I shall not attempt to write any
more particulars of this day — than which I have
never known a happier, because the chief subject
that was started and kept up, was an invitation
for me to Streatham, and a desire that I might
accompany my father thither next week, and stay
with them some time.]

We left Streatham at about eight o'clock, and
Mr. Seward, who handed me into the chaise, added
his interest to the rest, that my father would not
fail to bring me again next week to stay with
them some time. In short I was loaded with
civilities from them all. And my ride home was
equally happy with the rest of the day, for my
kind and most beloved father was so happy in my
happiness, and congratulated me so sweetly, that
he could, like myself, think on no other subject :
[and he told me that, after passing through such
a house as that, I could have nothing to fear —
meaning for my book, my honoured book.]

Yet my honours stopped not here ; for Hetty,
who with her sposo? was here to receive us, told
me she had lately met Mrs. Reynolds,3 sister of
Sir Joshua ; and that she talked very much and
very highly of a new novel called Evelina ; though
without a shadow of suspicion as to the scribbler ;

1 Miss Burney was not first in the field, for Chaucer had used
" agreeablete." The " H. E. D." has modern examples of the word from
Lady Lytton and Thackeray's Neiocomes.

2 Charles Rousseau Burney. See ante, p. 42.

3 Frances Reynolds (1729-1807), who lived with her brother. She figures
in Bos well's pages as the " Renny dear " of Johnson.

I therefore pray thee, Renny dear,

That thou wilt give to me,
With cream and sugar softened well,

Another dish of tea, —

sang the great man, in disrespectful parody of his friend Percy's Reliques.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 61

and not contented with her own praise, she said
that Sir Joshua, who began it one day when he
was too much engaged to go on with it, was so
much caught, that he could think of nothing else,
and was quite absent all the day, not knowing a
word that was said to him : and, when he took it
up again, found himself so much interested in it,
that he sat up all night to finish it !

Sir Joshua, it seems, vows he would give fifty
pounds to know the author ! I have also heard,
by the means of Charles, that other persons have
declared they will find him out !

This intelligence determined me upon going
myself to Mr. Lowndes, and discovering what sort
of answers he made to such curious inquirers as
I found were likely to address him. But as I
did not dare trust myself to speak, for I felt that
I should not be able to act my part well, I asked
my mother to accompany me.

We introduced ourselves by buying the book,

for which I had a commission from Mrs. G .

Fortunately Mr. Lowndes himself was in the
shop ; as we found by his air of consequence and
authority, as well as his age ; for I never saw him
before.

The moment he had given my mother the book,
she asked if he could tell her who wrote it.

"No," he answered ; " I don't know myself."

" Pho, pho," said she, " you mayn't choose to
tell, but you must know.*'

" I don't indeed, ma'am," answered he ; "I
have no honour in keeping the secret, for I have
never been trusted. All I know of the matter
is, that it is a gentleman of the other end of the
town."

My mother made a thousand other inquiries, to
which his answers were to the following effect :
that for a great while, he did not know if it was a

62 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ms

man or a woman ; but now, he knew that much,
and that he was a master of his subject, and well
versed in the manners of the times.

" For some time," continued he, "I thought it
had been Horace Walpole's ; * for he once published
a book in this snug 2 manner ; but I don't think it
is now. I have often people come to inquire of
me who it is ; but I suppose he will come out
soon, and then, when the rest of the world knows
it, I shall. Servants often come for it from the
other end of the town, and I have asked them
divers questions myself, to see if I could get at the
author ; but I never got any satisfaction."

Just before we came away, upon my mother s
still further pressing him, he said, with a most
important face,

"Why, to tell you the truth, madam, I have
been informed that it is a piece of real secret
history ; and, in that case, it will never be known."

This was too much for me ; I grinned irresistibly,
and was obliged to look out at the shop-door till
we came away.

[How many ridiculous things have I heard
upon this subject ! I hope that next some parti-
cular family will be fixed upon, to whom this secret
history must belong ! However, I am delighted to
find myself so safe.]

From Mr. Crisp to Miss F. Burney

August 16.

My dear Fannikin — "If I wish to hear the
sequel of the day?" the question is injurious —
both because I warmly interest myself in whatever

1 Horace Walpole's Castle of Otranto was published by Lowndes in
1 764 as a translation from the Italian by William Marshal.

2 Private, clandestine.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 63

concerns a Fannikin, and likewise that I must
else be

duller than the fat weed
That rots itself at ease on Lethe's wharf.1

The reception you met with at Streatham,
though highly flattering, by no means surprises me ;
every article of it is most strictly your due. You
have fairly earned it, and if your host and hostess
had given you less, they had defrauded you.
Flummery 2 is a commodity I do not much deal in ;
but on this occasion I will subscribe with hand and
heart to what I have now written.

After what I had heard of Mr. Seward, I should
not, I own, have expected such an attack as you
describe from him. What a contrast between him
and Mrs. Thrale !

I was once in a situation somewhat like yours,
when I supped with Quin 3 at Bath, a good many
years ago. There was a fade, empty fellow at
table with us, who thought to be mighty civil to
me. Quin observing I did not much relish his
insipid trash, cried out, " Why, he is a grocer,
man ! Pry thee, don't choke him with his own
figs."

Mr. Seward certainly merited such a rebuff.

I desire you to be very minute in the remainder
of the day, particularly with regard to Dr. Johnson,
who, though single, is himself an host.

Well, the ice is now broke, and your perturba-
tion ought to be in a great measure at an end.

1 Hamlet , Act I. Sc. v. The Cambridge Shakespeare reads " roots itself
in ease."

2 Flummery, empty compliment.

3 James Quin, the actor, a noted wit and bon-vivant, 1693-1766. After
his retirement from the stage, he lived much at Bath, where he died, and
was buried in the Abbey Church. Garrick wrote his epitaph. Smollett
brings him into Humphry Clinker as an old friend of Matthew Bramble ;
and at Bath, Gainsborough painted his portrait. Another portrait, by
Hogarth, formerly in the Townsend Collection, has recently (1904) been
added to the National Portrait Gallery.

64 DIARY AND LETTERS 1778

When you went into the sea at Teignmouth,1 did
not you shiver and shrink at first, and almost lose
your breath when the water came up to your chest ?
I suppose you afterwards learned to plunge in
boldly, over head and ears at once, and then your
pain was over. You must do the like now ; and as
the public have thought proper to put you on
a cork jacket, your fears of drowning would be
unpardonable. S. C.

1 Miss Burney had visited Teignmouth in 1773. Her journal to her
sister Susan is printed in the Early Diary, 1889, i. 218 et sea., and is
characterised by the Editor, Mrs. Raine Ellis, as " Fanny's first book,
privately circulated."

PART II

1778

Streatham Journal resumed — Character of Mr. Thrale — Dr. John-
son— Country neighbours — Bennet Langton — Character of
Mrs. Thrale — Table-talk of Dr. Johnson — Eccentricities of
the Cumberland family — Dr. Johnson and Richard Cumber-
land— More table-talk of Dr. Johnson — Anecdotes of the
Cumberland family — Mrs. Montagu and Bet Flint — The
female wits — Mrs. Pinkethman — Mrs. Rudd — Kitty Fisher —
An election dinner — Dr. Johnson — Anecdote of his rude-
ness— His Lives of the Poets — Mrs. Charlotte Lennox — The
author of Hermes — Learned Ladies — Johnson's opinion of
them — Richardson — Fielding — Murphy — Mr. Lort — Cum-
berland— Seward — Chatterton — The perils of popularity —
Hannah More — Dr. Johnson's harsh treatment of her.

Streatham, Sunday, Aug. 23. — I know not how
to express the fulness of my contentment at
this sweet place. All my best expectations are
exceeded, and you know they were not very
moderate. If, when my dear father comes, Susan
and Mr. Crisp were to come too, I believe it would
require at least a day's pondering to enable me to
form another wish.

Our journey was charming. The kind Mrs.
Thrale would give courage to the most timid. She
did not ask me questions, or catechise me upon
what I knew, or use any means to draw me out,
but made it her business to draw herself out — that
is, to start subjects, to support them herself, and
to take all the weight of the conversation, as if it

VOL. I 65 f

66 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ms

behoved her to find me entertainment. But I am
so much in love with her, that I shall be obliged
to run away from the subject, or shall write of
nothing else.

When we arrived here, Mrs. Thrale showed me
my room, which is an exceeding pleasant one, and
then conducted me to the library, there to divert
myself while she dressed.

Miss Thrale soon joined me : and I begin to like
her. Mr. Thrale was neither well nor in spirits all
day. Indeed, he seems not to be a happy man,
though he has every means of happiness in his
power. But I think I have rarely seen a very rich
man with a light heart and light spirits.

Dr. Johnson was in the utmost good humour.

There was no other company at the house all
day.

After dinner, I had a delightful stroll with Mrs.
Thrale, and she gave me a list of all her "good
neighbours " in the town of Streatham, and said she

was determined to take me to see Mr. T ,l the

clergyman, who was a character I could not but be
diverted with, for he had so furious and so absurd
a rage for building, that in his garden he had as
many temples, and summer-houses, and statues as
in the gardens of Stow, though he had so little
room for them that they all seemed tumbling one
upon another.

In short, she was all unaffected drollery and
sweet good humour.

At tea we all met again, and Dr. Johnson was
gaily sociable. He gave a very droll account of
the children of Mr. Langton,2

" Who," he said, " might be very good children

1 In the Diary for 1780, " Mr. T " is revealed as " Mr. Tattersall. "

2 Bennet Langton, 1737-1801, one of Johnson's best friends. He
succeeded him in 1788 as Professor of Ancient Literature to the Royal
Academy. Johnson thought Langton had "his children too! much about
him" (Hill's Bosivell, 1887, iii. 128).

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 67

if they were let alone ; but the father is never easy
when he is not making them do something which
they cannot do ; they must repeat a fable, or a
speech, or the Hebrew alphabet ; and they might
as well count twenty, for what they know of the
matter : however, the father says half, for he
prompts every other word. But he could not
have chosen a man who would have been less
entertained by such means."

" I believe not ! " cried Mrs. Thrale : " nothing
is more ridiculous than parents cramming their
children's nonsense down other people's throats.
I keep mine as much out of the way as I
can."

" Yours, madam," answered he, " are in nobody's
way ; no children can be better managed or less
troublesome ; but your fault is, a too great per-
verseness in not allowing anybody to give them
anything. Why should they not have a cherry or
a gooseberry as well as bigger children ? "

" Because they are sure to return such gifts by
wiping their hands upon the giver's gown or coat,
and nothing makes children more offensive. People
only make the offer to please the parents, and they
wish the poor children at Jericho when they accept

it.

" But, madam, it is a great deal more offensive
to refuse them. Let those who make the offer
look to their own gowns and coats, for when you
interfere, they only wish you at Jericho."

"It is difficult," said Mrs. Thrale, "to please
everybody."

Indeed, the freedom with which Dr. Johnson
condemns whatever he disapproves, is astonishing ;
and the strength of words he uses would, to
most people, be intolerable ; but Mrs. Thrale
seems to have a sweetness of disposition that
equals all her other excellences, and far from

68 DIARY AND LETTERS OF im

making a point of vindicating herself, she generally
receives his admonitions with the most respectful
silence.

But I fear to say all I think at present of Mrs.
Thrale, lest some flaws should appear by and
by, that may make me think differently. And
yet, why should I not indulge the now, as well as
the then, since it will be with so much more
pleasure ? In short, I do think her delightful ;
she has talents to create admiration, good humour
to excite love, understanding to give entertain-
ment, and a heart which, like my dear father's,
seems already fitted for another world. My own
knowledge of her, indeed, is very little for such a
character ; but all I have heard, and all 1 see, so
well agree, that I won't prepare myself for a future
disappointment.

But to return. Mrs. Thrale then asked whether
Mr. Langton took any better care of his affairs than
formerly ?

" No, madam," cried the doctor, " and never
will ; he complains of the ill effects of habit, and
rests contentedly upon a confessed indolence. He
told his father himself that he had 'no turn to
economy ' ; but a thief might as well plead that he
had ' no turn to honesty.' "

Was not that excellent ?

At night, Mrs. Thrale asked if I would have
anything ? I answered, " No " ; but Dr. Johnson
said,

" Yes : she is used, madam, to suppers ; she
would like an egg or two, and a few slices of ham,
or a rasher — a rasher, I believe, would please her
better."

How ridiculous ! However, nothing could
persuade Mrs. Thrale not to have the cloth laid :
and Dr. Johnson was so facetious, that he chal-
lenged Mr. Thrale to get drunk !

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA ' 69

" I wish," said he, " my master would say to me,1
Johnson, if you will oblige me, you will call for
a bottle of Toulon, and then we will set to it, glass
for glass, till it is done ; and after that, I will say,
Thrale, if you will oblige me, you will call for
another bottle of Toulon, and then we will set to
it, glass for glass, till that is done : and by the
time we should have drunk the two bottles, we
should be so happy, and such good friends, that we
should fly into each other's arms, and both together
call for the third ! "

I ate nothing, that they might not again use
such a ceremony with me. Indeed, their late
dinners forbid suppers, especially as Dr. Johnson
made me eat cake at tea, for he held it till I took
it, with an odd or absent complaisance.

He was extremely comical after supper, and
would not suffer Mrs. Thrale and me to go to bed
for near an hour after we made the motion.

The Cumberland family 2 was discussed. Mrs.
Thrale said that Mr. Cumberland was a very
amiable man in his own house ; but as a father
mighty simple ; which accounts for the ridiculous
conduct and manners of his daughters, concerning
whom we had much talk, and were all of a mind ;
for it seems they used the same rude stare to Mrs.
Thrale that so much disgusted us at Mrs. Ord's :
she says that she really concluded something was
wrong, and that, in getting out of the coach, she
had given her cap some unlucky cuff, — by their
merciless staring.

I told her that I had not any doubt, when I had
met with the same attention from them, but that

1 This was the name by which (like Mrs. Trulliber in Joseph Andrews)
Mrs. Thrale spoke of her first husband. Johnson and others caught it
up ; and she became known as " my mistress."

2 Richard Cumberland, 1732-1811, the dramatist, and the " Sir Fretful
Plagiary " of Sheridan's Critic. Miss Burney speaks of his daughters in
1779 as " the flashers of the place " at Brighton.

70 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ws

they were calculating the exact cost of all my
dress. Mrs. Thrale then told me that, about two
years ago, they were actually hissed out of the
playhouse, on account of the extreme height of
their feathers !

Dr. Johnson instantly composed an extempore
dialogue between himself and Mr. Cumberland
upon this subject, in which he was to act the part
of a provoking condoler :

"Mr. Cumberland (I should say), how mon-
strously ill-bred is a playhouse mob ! How I
pitied poor Miss Cumberlands about that affair ! "

" What affair ? " cries he, for he has tried to
forget it.

"Why," says I, "that unlucky accident they
met with some time ago."

" Accident ? what accident, sir ? "

" Why, you know, when they were hissed out
of the playhouse — you remember the time — oh,
the English mob is most insufferable ! they are
boors, and have no manner of taste ! "

Mrs. Thrale accompanied me to my room, and
stayed chatting with me for more than an hour.

Now for this morning's breakfast.

Dr. Johnson, as usual, came last into the library ;
he was in high spirits, and full of mirth and sport.
I had the honour of sitting next to him : and now,
all at once, he flung aside his reserve, thinking,
perhaps, that it was time I should fling aside mine.

Mrs. Thrale told him that she intended taking
me to Mr. T 's.

" So you ought, madam," cried he ; " 'tis your
business to be Cicerone to her."

Then suddenly he snatched my hand, and kiss-
ing it,

" Ah !" he added, "they will little think what a
tartar you carry to them ! "

1778 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 71

"No, that they won't!" cried Mrs. Thrale ;
" Miss Burney looks so meek and so quiet, nobody
would suspect what a comical girl she is ; but I
believe she has a great deal of malice at heart."

" Oh, she's a toad ! " 1 cried the doctor, laughing
— "a sly young rogue! with her Smiths and her
Branghtons ! "

" Why, Dr. Johnson," said Mrs. Thrale, " I hope
you are very well this morning ! if one may judge
by your spirits and good humour, the fever you
threatened us with is gone off."

He had complained that he was going to be ill
last night.

" Why no, madam, no," answered he, " 1 am
not yet well ; 1 could not sleep at all ; there I
lay restless and uneasy, and thinking all the time
of Miss Burney. Perhaps I have offended her,
thought I ; perhaps she is angry ; I have seen her
but once, and I talked to her of a rasher ! — AVere
you angry ? "

I think I need not tell you my answer.

" I have been endeavouring to find some
excuse," continued he, " and, as I could not sleep,
I got up, and looked for some authority for the
word ; and I find, madam, it is used by Dryden :
in one of his prologues, he says — ' And snatch a
homely rasher from the coals.' 2 So you must not
mind me, madam ; I say strange things, but I
mean no harm."

I was almost afraid he thought I was really
idiot enough to have taken him seriously ; but, a
few minutes after, he put his hand on my arm, and
shaking his head, exclaimed,

" Oh, you are a sly little rogue ! — what a
Holborn beau have you drawn ! "

1 "Toad," "toadling," were eighteenth - century terms of familiar
raillery.

2 Prologue to All for Love; or, The World well Lost, 1678.

72 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ma

"Ay, Miss Burney," said Mrs. Thrale, "the
Holborn beau is Dr. Johnson's favourite ; and
we have all your characters by heart, from Mr.
Smith up to Lady Louisa."1

" Oh, Mr. Smith, Mr. Smith is the man ! " cried
he, laughing violently. " Harry Fielding never
drew so good a character ! — such a fine varnish of
low politeness ! — such a struggle to appear a
gentleman ! Madam, there is no character better
drawn anywhere — in any book or by any author."

I almost poked myself under the table. Never
did I feel so delicious a confusion since I was
born ! But he added a great deal more, only I
cannot recollect his exact words, and I do not
choose to give him mine.

" Come, come," cried Mrs. Thrale, " we'll tor-
ment her no more about her book, for I see it
really plagues her. I own I thought for awhile it
was only affectation, for I'm sure if the book were
mine I should wish to hear of nothing else. But
we shall teach her in time how proud she ought to
be of such a performance."

" Ah, madam," cried the doctor, " be in no haste
to teach her that ; she'll speak no more to us when
she knows her own weight."

" Oh, but, sir," cried she, " if Mr. Thrale has his
way, she will become our relation, and then it will
be hard if she won't acknowledge us."

You may think I stared, but she went on.

" Mr. Thrale says nothing would make him half

so happy as giving Miss Burney to Sir J

L ." 2

1 Lady Louisa Larpent in Evelina. Mrs. Thrale sometimes called Miss
Burney " Lady Louisa of Leicester Square."

2 Sir John Lade, Thrale's nephew, then a minor. " He married a
woman of the town, became a celebrated member of the Four-in-Hand
Club, and contrived to waste the whole of a fine fortune before he died "
(Hay ward's Autobiography, etc. of Mrs. Piozzi, 2nd ed., 1861, i. 78). Sir
John Lade figures in Sir* A. Conan Doyle's Rodney Stone, 1896. There
are also some satirical verses upon him by Johnson in Hill's Boswell, 1887,
iv. 413.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 73

Mercy ! what an exclamation did I give. 1
wonder you did not hear me to St. Martin's Street.
However, she continued,

" Mr. Thrale says, Miss Burney seems more
formed to draw a husband to herself, by her
humour when gay, and her good sense when
serious, than almost anybody he ever saw."

" He does me much honour," cried I : though
I cannot say I much enjoyed such a proof of his

good opinion as giving me to Sir J L ;

but Mr. Thrale is both his uncle and his guardian,
and thinks, perhaps, he would do a mutual good
office in securing me so much money, and his
nephew a decent companion. Oh, if he knew how
little I require with regard to money — how much
to even bear with a companion ! But he was not
brought up with such folks as my father, my
Daddy Crisp, and my Susan, and does not know
what indifference to all things but good society
such people as those inspire.

" My master says a very good speech," cried the
doctor, "if Miss Burney 's husband should have
anything in common with herself ; but I know not

how we can level her with Sir J L , unless

she would be content to put her virtues and talents
in a scale against his thousands : and poor Sir

J must give cheating weight even then !

However, if we bestow such a prize upon him, he
shall settle his whole fortune on her."

Ah ! thought I, I am more mercenary than you
fancy me, for not even that would bribe me high
enough.

Before Dr. Johnson had finished his eloge, I was
actually on the ground, for there was no standing
it, — or sitting it, rather : and Mrs. Thrale seemed
delighted for me.

" I assure you," she said, " nobody can do your
book more justice than Dr. Johnson does : and yet,

74 DIARY AND LETTERS OF nn

do you remember, sir, how unwilling you were to
read it ? He took it up, just looked at the first
letter, and then put it away, and said, 'I don't
think I have any taste for it ! ' — but when he was
going to town, I put the first volume into the
coach with him ; and then, when he came home,
the very first words he said to me were 'Why,
Madam, this Evelina is a charming creature ! ' — and
then he teased me to know who she married, and
what became of her, — and I gave him the rest.
For my part, I used to read it in bed, and could
not part with it : I laughed at the second, and I
cried at the third ; but what a trick was that of
Dr. Burney's, never to let me know whose it was
till 1 had read it ! Suppose it had been something
I had not liked ! Oh, it was a vile trick ! "

" No, madam, not at all ! " cried the doctor,
" for, in that case, you would never have known ; —
all would have been safe, for he would neither have
told you who wrote it, nor Miss Burney what you
said of it.'*

Some time after the doctor began laughing to
himself, and then, suddenly turning to me, he
called out, " Only think, Polly ! Miss has danced
with a lord ! " 1

" Ah, poor Evelina ! " cried Mrs. Thrale, " I see
her now in Kensington Gardens. What she must
have suffered ! Poor girl ! what fidgets she must
have been in ! And I know Mr. Smith, too, very
well ; — I always have him before me at the Hamp-
stead Ball, dressed in a white coat, and a tambour
waistcoat,2 worked in green silk. Poor Mr. Seward !
Mr. Johnson made him so mad t'other day! ' Why,
Seward,' said he, ' how smart you are dressed ! why,
you only want a tambour waistcoat to look like

1 This is a quotation from Letter liv. of Evelina.

2 i.e. embroidered on a tambour or drum-shaped frame. This is now
done efficiently by machines.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 75

Mr. Smith ! ' But I am very fond of Lady-
Louisa ; I think her as well drawn as any character
in the book ; so fine, so affected, so languishing ;
and, at the same time, so insolent ! "

She then ran on with several of her speeches.

Some time after, she gave Dr. Johnson a letter
from Dr. Jebb,1 concerning one of the gardeners
who is very ill. When he had read it, he grumbled
violently to himself, and put it away with marks of
displeasure.

" What's the matter, sir ! " said Mrs. Thrale ; " do
you find any fault with the letter ? "

"No, madam, the letter's well enough, if the
man knew how to write his own name : but it
moves my indignation to see a gentleman take
pains to appear a tradesman. Mr. Branghton
would have written his name with just such beastly
flourishes."

"Ay, well," said Mrs. Thrale, "he is a very
agreeable man, and an excellent physician, and a
great favourite of mine, and so he is of Miss
Burney's."

" Why, I have no objection to the man, madam,
if he would write his name as he ought to do."

" Well, it does not signify," cried Mrs. Thrale ;
"but the commercial fashion of writing gains
ground every day, for all Miss Burney abuses it,
with her Smiths and her Branghtons. Does not
the great Mr. Pennant write like a clerk,2 without
any pronouns ? and does not everybody flourish
their names till nobody can read them ? "

After this they talked over a large party of
company who are invited to a formal and grand
dinner for next Monday, and among others Admiral

1 Richard Jebb, 1729-87, M.D., and Harveian orator and censor. He
was made a baronet in this year.

2 Pennant's writing, from a specimen dated 1796 now before us, is
clear but not particularly clerical.

76 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ms

Montague1 was mentioned. The doctor, turning
to me, with a laugh, said,

" You must mark the old sailor, Miss Burney ;
he'll be a character."

" Ah ! " cried Mrs. Thrale, who was going out
of the room, " how I wish you would hatch up a
comedy between you ! do, fall to work ! "

A pretty proposal ! to be sure Dr. Johnson
would be very proud of such a fellow-labourer !

As soon as we were alone together, he said,

" These are as good people as you can be with ;
you can go to no better house ; they are all good
nature ; nothing makes them angry."

As I have always heard from my father that
every individual at Streatham spends the morning
alone, I took the first opportunity of absconding to
my own room, and amused myself in writing till I
tired. About noon, when I went into the library,
book hunting, Mrs. Thrale came to me.

We had a very nice confab about various books,
and exchanged opinions and imitations of Baretti ; J
she told me many excellent tales of him, and I, in
return, related my stories.

She gave me a long and very entertaining-
account of Dr. Goldsmith, whj was intimately
known here ; but in speaking of " The Good-
natured Man," when I extolled my favourite

1 John Montagu, 1719-95 : Rear-Admiral, 1770 ; Commander-in-Chief
on the North American Station, 1771-74 ; Vice-Admiral and Commander-
in-Chief at Newfoundland, 1776. James Burney, Fanny's elder brother,
entered the Navy under Admiral Montagu (see Editor's Introduction,
p. 5).

2 Giuseppe Marc' Antonio Baretti, 1719-89, was a teacher of Italian and
a voluminous miscellaneous writer. His friend Johnson had introduced
him to the Thrales, with whom he was domesticated from 1773 to July 6,
1776, teaching Queenie Italian. By the latter date he had quarrelled with
Mrs. Thrale, and left the house. He held the post of Foreign Secretary
to the Royal Academy. Reynolds painted his portrait for the Thrale
Gallery. It was sold in 1816 for £31 : 10s. (Piozziana, 1833, p. 51). Miss
Burney had often seen him at St. Martin's Street, and in a letter of 1786
he calls himself her "old friend Baretti" (see also note on Baretti 's
Dialogues in 1783).

U73 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 77

Croaker, I found that admirable character was a
downright theft from Dr. Johnson. Look at the
Rambler, and you will find Suspirius is the man,
and that not merely the idea, but the particulars
of the character, are all stolen thence ! l

While we were yet reading this Rambler,
Dr. Johnson came in : we told him what we were
about.

" Ah, madam ! " cried he, " Goldsmith was not
scrupulous ; but he would have been a great man
had he known the real value of his own internal
resources."

"Miss Burney," said Mrs. Thrale, "is fond of
his Vicar of Wakefield : and so am I ; — don't
you like it, sir ? "

" No, madam, it is very faulty ; there is nothing
of real life in it, and very little of nature. It is a
mere fanciful performance." 2

He then seated himself upon a sofa, and calling
to me, said, "Come, — Evelina, — come and sit by
me.

I obeyed ; and he took me almost in his arms,
— that is, one of his arms, for one would go three
times, at least, round me, — and, half-laughing, half-
serious, he charged me to "be a good girl ! "

" But, my dear," continued he with a very droll
look, "what makes you so fond of the Scotch ? I
don't like you for that ; — I hate these Scotch, and
so must you. I wish Branghton had sent the dog
to jail ! That Scotch dog Macartney."

"Why, sir," said Mrs. Thrale, "don't you
remember he says he would, but that he should
get nothing by it ? "

1 Suspirius, the Screech Owl. See Rambler, No. 59, for Tuesday,
October 9, 1750. But Forster, Life of Goldsmith, Bk. iii. ch. 16, suggests
that Goldsmith may also have borrowed largely from his own doleful
philosopher in the Citizen of the World, 1762, ii. 114 (Letter lxxxix.).

2 He was more consistent than usual on this point. " His [Gold-
smith's] Vicar'" — he told Reynolds in this year — " I myself did not think
would have much success" (Hill's Boswell, 1887, iii. 321).

78 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

"Why, ay, true," cried the doctor, see-sawing
very solemnly, " that, indeed, is some palliation for
his forbearance. But I must not have you so fond
of the Scotch, my little Burney ; make your hero
what you will but a Scotchman. Besides, you
write Scotch — you say • the one,' — my dear, that's
not English. Never use that phrase again."

" Perhaps," said Mrs. Thrale, " it may be used
in Macartney's letter, and then it will be a pro-
priety."

" No, madam, no ! " cried he ; " you can't make
a beauty of it ; it is in the third volume ; put it in
Macartney's letter, and welcome ! — that, or any-
thing that is nonsense."

» Why, surely," cried I, " the poor man is used
ill enough by the Branghtons."

"But Branghton," said he, "only hates him
because of his wretchedness, — poor fellow ! — But,
my dear love, how should he ever have eaten a
good dinner before he came to England ? "

And then he laughed violently at young
Branghton's idea.

"Well," said Mrs. Thrale, "I always liked
Macartney ; he is a very pretty character, and I
took to him, as the folks say."

" Why, madam," answered he, " I like Mac-
artney myself. Yes, poor fellow, I liked the man,
but I love not the nation."

And then he proceeded, in a dry manner, to
make at once sarcastic reflections on the Scotch,
and flattering speeches to me, for Macartney's
firing at the national insults of young Branghton :
his stubborn resolution in not owning, even to his
bosom friend, his wretchedness of poverty ; and
his fighting at last for the honour of his nation,
when he resisted all other provocations ; he said,
were all extremely well marked.

We stayed with him till just dinner time, and

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 79

then we were obliged to run away and dress ; but
Dr. Johnson called out to me as I went —

" Miss Burney, I must settle that affair of the
Scotch with you at our leisure."

At dinner we had the company, or rather the
presence, for he did not speak two words, of Mr.

E , the clergyman, I believe, of Streatham.

And afterwards, Mrs. Thrale took the trouble to
go with me to the T 's.

[Dr. Johnson, who has a love of social con-
verse that nobody, without living under the same
roof with him, would suspect, quite begged us not
to go till he went to town ; but as we were hatted
and ready, Mrs. Thrale only told him she rejoiced
to find him so jealous of our companies, and then
away we whisked, — she, Miss Thrale, and my
ladyship.]

I could write some tolerable good sport con-
cerning this visit, but that I wish to devote all the
time I can snatch for writing, to recording what
passes here [; themes of mere ridicule offer every-
where].

We got home late, and had the company of Mr.

E , and of Mr. Rose Fuller, a young man who

lives at Streatham, and is nephew of the famous
Rose Fuller ; and whether Dr. Johnson did not
like them, or whether he was displeased that we
went out, or whether he was not well, I know
not ; but he never opened his mouth, except
in answer to a question, till he bid us good-
night.1

Saturday Morning. — Dr. Johnson was again all
himself ; and so civil to me ! — even admiring how
I dressed myself! Indeed, it is well I have so
much of his favour ; for it seems he always speaks

1 " It is remarkable he never speaks at all, but when spoken to," she
had said upon their first meeting in 1777 {Early Diary, 1889, ii. 157).
And Tyers compared him to a ghost who never answered until addressed
(Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, Friday, August 20, 1773).

80 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 177s

his mind concerning the dress of ladies, and all
ladies who are here obey his injunctions implicitly,
and alter whatever he disapproves. This is a part
of his character that much surprises me : but not-
withstanding he is sometimes so absent, and always
so near sighted, he scrutinises into every part of
almost everybody's appearance. They tell me of a
Miss Brown, who often visits here, and who has a
slovenly way of dressing. " And when she comes
down in a morning," says Mrs. Thrale, u her hair
will be all loose, and her cap half off; and then
Dr. Johnson, who sees something is wrong, and
does not know where the fault is, concludes it is in
the cap, and says, 'My dear, what do you wear
such a vile cap for ? ' ' I'll change it, sir,' cries the
poor girl, ' if you don't like it.' ' Ay, do,' he says ;
and away runs poor Miss Brown ; but when she
gets on another, it's the same thing, for the cap
has nothing to do with the fault. And then she
wonders Dr. Johnson should not like the cap, for
she thinks it very pretty. And so on with her
gown, which he also makes her change ; but if the
poor girl were to change through all her wardrobe,
unless she could put her things on better, he would
still find fault."

When Dr. Johnson was gone, she told me
of my mother's being obliged to change her
dress.

" Now," said she, " Mrs. Burney had on a very
pretty linen jacket and coat, and was going to
church ; but Dr. Johnson, who, I suppose, did not
like her in a jacket, saw something was the matter,
and so found fault with the linen : and he looked
and peered, and then said, ' Why, madam, this
won't do ! you must not go to church so ! ' So
away went poor Mrs. Burney and changed her
gown ! And when she had done so, he did not
like it, but he did not know why ; so he told her

1778 THE AUTHOR OF • EVELINA' 81

she should not wear a black hat and cloak in
summer ! Oh, how he did bother poor Mrs.
Burney ! and himself too, for if the things had
been put on to his mind, he would have taken no
notice of them."

"Why," said Mr. Thrale, very drily, "I don't
think Mrs. Burney a very good dresser."

" Last time she came," said Mrs. Thrale, " she
was in a white cloak, and she told Dr. Johnson
she had got her old white cloak scoured on pur-
pose to oblige him ! ' Scoured ! ' says he, ' ay, —
have you, madam ? ' — so he see-sawed, for he could
not for shame find fault, but he did not seem to
like the scouring."

[So I think myself amazingly fortunate to be
approved by him ; for, if he disliked, alack-a-day,
how could I change ! But he has paid me some
very fine compliments upon this subject.

I was very sorry when the doctor went to town,
though Mrs. Thrale made him promise to return
to Monday's dinner ; and he has very affectionately
invited me to visit him in the winter, when he is
at home : and he talked to me a great deal of Mrs.
Williams, and gave me a list of her works, and
said I must visit them ; — which I am sure I shall
be very proud of doing.]

And now let me try to recollect an account he
gave us of certain celebrated ladies of his acquaint-
ance : an account which, had you heard from him-
self, would have made you die with laughing, his
manner is so peculiar, and enforces his humour so
originally.

It was begun by Mrs. Thrale's apologising to
him for troubling him with some question she
thought trifling — Oh, I remember ! We had been
talking of colours, and of the fantastic names given
to them, and why the palest lilac should be called

VOL. I G

82 DIARY AND LETTERS OF \m

a soupir etouffe; and when Dr. Johnson came in
she applied to him.

"Why, madam," said he with wonderful readi-
ness, "it is called a stifled sigh because it is checked
in its progress, and only half a colour."

I could not help expressing my amazement at
his universal readiness upon all subjects, and Mrs.
Thrale said to him,

"Sir, Miss Burney wonders at your patience
with such stuff; but I tell her you are used to
me, for I believe I torment you with more foolish
questions than anybody else dares do."

" No, madam," said he, " you don't torment
me ; — you tease me, indeed, sometimes."

" Ay, so I do, Dr. Johnson, and I wonder you
bear with my nonsense."

" No, madam, you never talk nonsense ; you
have as much sense, and more wit, than any
woman I know ! "

" Oh," cried Mrs. Thrale, blushing, "it is my
turn to go under the table this morning, Miss
Burney ! "

" And yet," continued the doctor, with the most
comical look, " I have known all the wits, from
Mrs. Montagu down to Bet Flint ! " x

"Bet Flint!" cried Mrs. Thrale; "pray who
is she ? "

" Oh, a fine character, madam ! She was
habitually a slut and a drunkard, and occasionally
a thief and a harlot."

" And, for Heaven's sake, how came you to
know her ? "

"Why, madam, she figured in the literary
world, too ! Bet Flint wrote her own life, and
called herself Cassandra, and it was in verse ; — it
began :

1 For Johnson's account of Bet Flint, as 'given to the company at
Dilly's in 1781, see Hill's Boswell, 1887, iv. 103.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 83

" When Nature first ordained my birth,
A diminutive I was born on earth :
And then I came from a dark abode,
Into a gay and gaudy world.1

" So Bet brought me her verses to correct ; 2 but
I gave her half-a- crown, and she liked it as well.
Bet had a fine spirit ; — she advertised for a husband,
but she had no success, for she told me no man
aspired to her ! Then she hired very handsome
lodgings and a footboy ; and she got a harpsichord,
but Bet could not play ; however, she put herself
in fine attitudes, and drummed."

Then he gave an account of another of these
geniuses, who called herself by some fine name, I
have forgotten what.

" She had not quite the same stock of virtue,"
continued he, "nor the same stock of honesty as
Bet Flint ; but I suppose she envied her accom-
plishments, for she was so little moved by the
power of harmony, that while Bet Flint thought
she was drumming very divinely, the other jade
had her indicted for a nuisance ! "

" And pray what became of her, sir ? "

" Why, madam, she stole a quilt from the man
of the house, and he had her taken up : but Bet
Flint had a spirit not to be subdued ; so when she
found herself obliged to go to jail, she ordered a
sedan chair, and bid her footboy walk before her.
However, the boy proved refractory, for he was
ashamed, though his mistress was not."

"And did she ever get out of jail again, sir ?"

" Yes, madam ; when she came to her trial the
judge acquitted her. ' So now,' she said to me,
' the quilt is my own, and now I'll make a petticoat
of it.' Oh, I loved Bet Flint!"

Oh, how we all laughed ! Then he gave an

1 Boswell gives a slightly different version. But it is not worth quoting.
2 According to Boswell, she asked the Doctor to write a Preface.

84 DIARY AND LETTERS OF nn

account of another lady, who called herself
Laurinda, and who also wrote verses and stole
furniture ; but he had not the same affection for
her, he said, though she too " was a lady who had
high notions of honour."

Then followed the history of another, who called
herself Hortensia, and who walked up and down
the park repeating a book of Virgil.

" But," said he, " though I know her story, I
never had the good fortune to see her."

After this he gave us an account of the famous
Mrs. Pinkethman.1 " And she," he said, " told me
she owed all her misfortunes to her wit ; for she
was so unhappy as to marry a man who thought
himself also a wit, though I believe she gave him
not implicit credit for it, but it occasioned much
contradiction and ill-will."

" Bless me, sir ! " cried Mrs. Thrale, " how can
all these vagabonds contrive to get at you, of all
people ? "

" Oh the dear creatures ! " cried he, laughing
heartily, " I can't but be glad to see them ! "

"Why, I wonder, sir, you never went to see
Mrs. Rudd among the rest ? " 2

"Why, madam, I believe I should," said he,
"if it was not for the newspapers ; but I am
prevented many frolics that I should like very
well, since I am become such a theme for the
papers."

Now would you ever have imagined this ? Bet
Flint, it seems, once took Kitty Fisher3 to see
him, but to his no little regret he was not at home.
"And Mrs. Williams," he added, "did not love

1 This is probably a mistake for the notorious Mrs. Pilkington (Loetitia
von Lewen), 1700-50, whose Memoirs appeared in 1748. Her husband,
the Rev. Matthew Pilkington, whom Swift first befriended, and then
came to regard as "a coxcomb and a knave," answers to Johnson's
description.

2 Margaret Caroline Rudd. See post, under February 1787.

3 A beautiful courtesan. Reynolds painted her as Cleopatra.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 85

Bet Flint, but Bet Flint made herself very easy
about that."

How Mr. Crisp would have enjoyed this account !
He gave it all with so droll a solemnity, and it was
all so unexpected, that Mrs. Thrale and I were both
almost equally diverted.

Streatham, August 26. — My opportunities for
writing grow less and less, and my materials more
and more. After breakfast I have scarcely a
moment that I can spare all day.

Mrs. Thrale I like more and more. Of all the
people I have ever seen since I came into this
" gay and gaudy world," * I never before saw the
person who so strongly resembles our dear father.
I find the likeness perpetually ; she has the same
natural liveliness, the same general benevolence,
the same rare union of gaiety and of feeling in her
disposition.

And so kind is she to me ! She told me at first
that I should have all my mornings to myself, and
therefore I have actually studied to avoid her, lest
I should be in her way ; but since the first morning
she seeks me, sits with me, saunters with me in the
park, or compares notes over books in the library ;
and her conversation is delightful ; it is so enter-
taining, so gay, so enlivening, when she is in spirits,
and so intelligent and instructive when she is other-
wise, that I almost as much wish to record all she
says, as all Dr. Johnson says.

Proceed — no ! Go back, my muse, to Thursday.

Dr. Johnson came home to dinner.

In the evening he was as lively and full of wit
and sport as I have ever seen him ; and Mrs. Thrale
and I had him quite to ourselves ; for Mr. Thrale
came in from giving an election dinner (to which
he sent two bucks and six pine apples) so tired,

1 Cf. the quatrain, ante, p. 83.

86 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

that he neither opened his eyes nor mouth, but
fell fast asleep. Indeed, after tea he generally
does.

Dr. Johnson was very communicative concern-
ing his present work of the Lives of the Poets',
Dryden is now in the press, and he told us he had
been just writing a dissertation upon Hudibras.

He gave us an account of Mrs. Lenox.1 Her
Female Quixote is very justly admired here. But
Mrs. Thrale says that though her books are gener-
ally approved, nobody likes her. I find she, among
others, waited on Dr. Johnson upon her commen-
cing writer, and he told us that, at her request, he
carried her to Richardson.

" Poor Charlotte Lenox ! " continued he ; " when
we came to the house, she desired me to leave her,
4 for,' says she, 4 1 am under great restraint in your
presence, but if you leave me alone with Richard-
son I'll give you a very good account of him ' :
however, I fear poor Charlotte was disappointed,
for she gave me no account at all ! "

He then told us of two little productions of our
Mr. Harris,2 which we read ; they are very short
and very clever : one is called Fashion, the other
Much Ado,3 and they are both of them full of a
sportive humour, that I had not suspected to belong
to Mr. Harris, the learned grammarian.

Some time after, turning suddenly to me, he
said, "Miss Burney, what sort of reading do you
delight in ? History ? — travels ? — poetry ? — or
romances ? "

1 Charlotte Lenox, 1720-1804, author of the Female Quixote, 1752. She
was befriended by most of the leading men of letters of her day.

2 James Harris, of Salisbury, 1709-80 — "a most charming old man" —
the author of Hermes ; or, a Philosophical Inquiry concerning Universal
Grammar, 1751. He was also a writer upon music, and a composer (see

(. — Early Diary, 1889, ii. 107).

3 These are printed at the end of Sarah Fielding's Familiar Letters
between the principal Characters in David Simple, and are there declared
(in a footnote) to be " A kind Present to the Author by a Friend."

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 87

" Oh, sir ! " cried I, " I dread being catechised by
you. I dare not make any answer, for I fear
whatever I should say would be wrong ! "
" Whatever you should say — how's that ? "
« Why, not whatever I should — but whatever I
could say."

He laughed, and to my great relief spared me
any further questions upon the subject. Indeed,
I was very happy I had the presence of mind to
evade him as I did, for I am sure the examination
which would have followed, had I made any direct
answer, would have turned out sorely to my
discredit.

"Do you remember, sir," said Mrs. Thrale,
"how you tormented poor Miss Brown about
reading ? "

" She might soon be tormented, madam," an-
swered he, " for I am not yet quite clear she knows
what a book is."

" Oh, for shame ! " cried Mrs. Thrale, " she reads
not only English, but French and Italian. She
was in Italy a great while."

" Pho ! " exclaimed he ; " Italian, indeed ! Do
you think she knows as much Italian as Rose
Fuller does English ? "

" Well, well," said Mrs. Thrale, " Rose Fuller is a
very good young man, for all he has not much com-
mand of language, and though he is silly enough,
yet I like him very well, for there is no manner
of harm in him."

Then she told me that he once said, "Dr.
Johnson's conversation is so instructive that I'll
ask him a question. ' Pray, sir, what is Palmyra ?
I have often heard of it, but never knew what it
was.' 'Palmyra, sir?' said the doctor; 'why,
it is a hill in Ireland, situated in a bog, and has
palm-trees at the top, whence it is called Palm-

mire.

88 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 177s

Whether or not he swallowed this account, I
know not yet.1

"But Miss Brown," continued she, "is by no
means such a simpleton as Dr. Johnson supposes
her to be ; she is not very deep, indeed, but she is
a sweet, and a very ingenuous girl, and nobody
admired Miss Streatfield more. But she made a
more foolish speech to Dr. Johnson than she would
have done to anybody else, because she was so
frightened and embarrassed that she knew not
what she said. He asked her some question about
reading, and she did, to be sure, make a very silly
answer ; but she was so perplexed and bewildered,
that she hardly knew where she was, and so she said
the beginning of a book was as good as the end, or
the end as good as the beginning, or some such stuff;
and Dr. Johnson told her of it so often, saying,
' Well, my dear, which part of a book do you like best
now ? ' that poor Fanny Brown burst into tears ! "

" I am sure I should have compassion for her,"
cried I ; " for nobody would be more likely to have
blundered out such, or any such speech, from fright
and terror."

" You ? " cried Dr. Johnson. " No ; you are
another thing ; she who could draw Smiths and
Branghtons, is quite another thing."

Mrs. Thrale then told some other stories of his
degrading opinion of us poor fair sex ; I mean in
general, for in particular he does them noble
justice. Among others, was a Mrs. Somebody
who spent a day here once, and of whom he asked,
" Can she read ? "

1 Mrs. Thrale (then Mrs. Piozzi), in relating this story, after Johnson's
death, in her Anecdotes of him, adds — "Seeing however that the lad"
(whom she does not name, but calls a " young fellow ") " thought him
serious, and thanked him for the information, he undeceived him very
gently indeed ; told him the history, geography, and chronology of Tad-
mor in the Wilderness, with every incident that literature could furnish, I
think, or eloquence express, from the building of Solomon's palace to the
voyage of Dawkins and Wood." [Mrs. Barrett's note.]

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 89

" Yes, to be sure," answered Mrs. Thrale ; " we
have been reading together this afternoon."

" And what book did you get for her ? "

"Why, what happened to lie in the way,
Hogarth's Analysis of' Beauty" 1

" Hogarth's Analysis of Beauty ! What made
you choose that ? "

"Why, sir, what would you have had me take?"

" What she could have understood — Cow-hide,
or Cinderella ! "

" Oh, Dr. Johnson ! " cried I ; " 'tis not for
nothing you are feared ! "

" Oh, you're a rogue ! " cried he, laughing, " and
they would fear you if they knew you ! "

"That they would," said Mrs. Thrale; "but

she's so shy they don't suspect her. Miss P

gave her an account of all her dress, to entertain her,
t'other night ! To be sure she was very lucky to
fix on Miss Burney for such conversation ! But I
have been telling her she must write a comedy ; I
am sure nobody could do it better. Is it not true,
Dr. Johnson ? "

I would fain have stopt her, but she was not to
be stopped, and ran on saying such fine things !
though we had almost a struggle together ; and she
said at last :

"Well, authors may say what they will of
modesty ; but I believe Miss Burney is really
modest about her book, for her colour comes and
goes every time it is mentioned."

I then escaped to look for a book which we had
been talking of, and Dr. Johnson, when I returned
to my seat, said he wished Richardson had been
alive.

" And then," he added, " she should have been

1 The Analysis of Beauty. Written with a view of fixing the fluctuating
Ideas of Taste, 1753. It is not a lucid book, and must have sadly mystified
" Mrs. Somebody." <

90 DIARY AND LETTERS OF vtm

introduced to him — though I don't know neither —
Richardson would have been afraid of her."

" Oh yes ! that's a likely matter," quoth I.

" It's very true," continued he ; " Richardson
would have been really afraid of her ; there is merit
in Evelina which he could not have borne. No ;
it would not have done ! unless, indeed, she would
have flattered him prodigiously. Harry Fielding,
too, would have been afraid of her ; there is nothing
so delicately finished in all Harry Fielding's works,
as in Evelina ! " Then shaking his head at me,
he exclaimed, " Oh, you little character-monger,
you!

Mrs. Thrale then returned to her charge, and
again urged me about a comedy ; and again I tried
to silence her, and we had a fine fight together ;
till she called upon Dr. Johnson to back her.

"Why, madam," said he, laughing, "she is
writing one. What a rout is here, indeed ! she
is writing one upstairs all the time. Who ever
knew when she began Evelina?. She is working
at some drama, depend upon it."

" True, true, O king ! " thought I.1

"Well, that will be a sly trick!" cried Mrs.
Thrale ; " however, you know best, I believe, about
that, as well as about every other thing."

Friday was a very full day. In the morning
we began talking of Irene,2 and Mrs. Thrale made
Dr. Johnson read some passages which I had been
remarking as uncommonly applicable to the present
times. He read several speeches, and told us he
had not ever read so much of it before since it was
first printed.

" Why, there is no making you read a play,"
said Mrs. Thrale, " either of your own, or any other
person. What trouble had I to make you hear

1 She was then engaged upon The Witlings.
2 Johnson's own tragedy, acted and published in 1749.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 91

Murphy's Know your own Mind ! 1 ' Head rapidly,
read rapidly,' you cried, and then took out your
watch to see how long I was about it ! Well, we
won't serve Miss Burney so, sir ; when we have
her comedy we will do it all justice."

Murphy,2 it seems, is a very great favourite here ;
he has been acquainted intimately with Mr. Thrale
from both their boyhoods, and Mrs. Thrale is very
partial to him. She told me, therefore, in a merry
way, that though she wished me to excel Cumber-
land, and all other dramatic writers, yet she would
not wish me better than her old friend Murphy.
I begged her, however, to be perfectly easy, and
assured her I would take care not to eclipse him !

At noon Mrs. Thrale took me with her to
Kensington, to see her little daughters Susan and
Sophia, who are at school there. They are sweet
little girls.

When we were dressed for dinner, and went
into the parlour, we had the agreeable surprise of
seeing Mr. Seward there. I say agreeable, for not-
withstanding our acquaintance began in a manner
so extremely unpleasant to me, there is something
of drollery, good sense, intelligence, and archness
in this young man, that have not merely reconciled
me to him, but brought me over to liking him vastly.

There was also Mr. Lort,3 who is reckoned one
of the most learned men alive, and is also a col-
lector of curiosities, alike in literature and natural
history. His manners are somewhat blunt and
odd, and he is altogether out of the common road,
without having chosen a better path.

1 A comedy, based upon Ulrrtsolu of Nericault Destouches, acted at
Covent Garden in 1777, and printed in 1778.

2 Arthur Murphy, the author and actor, 1727-1805. Fanny had acted
in his Way to Keep Him at her uncle's at Barborne Lodge in 1777 {Early
Diary, 1889, ii. 165).

8 Michael Lort, D.D., 1725-90, the antiquary. At this date he was
chaplain to the Bishop of Peterborough, and Vicar of Bottisham, near
Cambridge.

92 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

The day was passed most agreeably. In the
evening we had, as usual, a literary conversation.
I say we, only because Mrs. Thrale will make me
take some share, by perpetually applying to me ;
and, indeed, there can be no better house for rub-
bing up the memory, as I hardly ever read, saw,
or heard of any book that by some means or other
has not been mentioned here.

Mr. Lort produced several curious MSS. of the
famous Bristol Chatterton ; among others, his will,
and divers verses written against Dr. Johnson, as
a placeman and pensioner ; all which he read aloud,
with a steady voice and unmoved countenance.

I was astonished at him ; Mrs. Thrale not much
pleased ; Mr. Thrale silent and attentive ; and Mr.
Seward was slily laughing. Dr. Johnson himself,
listened profoundly and laughed openly. Indeed,
I believe he wishes his abusers no other thing than
a good dinner, like Pope.1

Just as we had got our biscuits and toast-and-
water, which make the Streatham supper, and which,
indeed, is all there is any chance of eating after our
late and great dinners, Mr. Lort suddenly said,

"Pray, ma'am, have you heard anything of a
novel that runs about a good deal, called Evelina ? "

What a ferment did this question, before such a
set, put me in !

I did not know whether he spoke to me, or Mrs.
Thrale ; and Mrs. Thrale was in the same doubt,
and as she owned, felt herself in a little palpita-
tion for me, not knowing what might come next.
Between us both, therefore, he had no answer.

" It has been recommended to me," continued
he ; " but I have no great desire to see it, because
it has such a foolish name. Yet I have heard a
great deal of it, too."

1 " I wish'd the man a dinner, and sat still " {Prologue to the Satires ',
1735, 1. 152).

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 93

He then repeated Evelina — in a very languishing
and ridiculous tone.

My heart beat so quick against my stays that
I almost panted with extreme agitation, from the
dread either of hearing some horrible criticism, or
of being betrayed : and I munched my biscuit as if
I had not eaten for a fortnight.

I believe the whole party were in some little
consternation ; Dr. Johnson began see-sawing ; Mr.

Thrale awoke ; Mr. E ,l who I fear has picked

up some notion of the affair from being so much
in the house, grinned amazingly ; and Mr. Seward,
biting his nails and flinging himself back in his
chair, I am sure had wickedness enough to enjoy
the whole scene.

Mrs. Thrale was really a little fluttered, but
without looking at me, said,

"And pray what, Mr. Lort, what have you
heard of it ? "

[Now, had Mrs. Thrale not been flurried, this
was the last question she should have ventured to
ask before me. Only suppose what I must feel
when I heard it.]

"Why, they say," answered he, "that it's an
account of a young lady's first entrance into com-
pany, and of the scrapes she gets into ; and they
say there's a great deal of character in it, but I
have not cared to look in it, because the name is so
foolish — Evelina ! "

" Why foolish, sir ?" cried Dr. Johnson. "Where's
the folly of it?"

" Why, I won't say much for the name myself,"
said Mrs. Thrale, " to those who don't know the
reason of it, which I found out, but which nobody
else seems to know."

She then explained the name from Evelyn,
according to my own meaning.

1 See ante, p. 79.

94 DIARY AND LETTERS OF im

"Well," said Dr. Johnson, "if that was the
reason, it is a very good one."

" Why, have you had the book here ? " cried
Mr. Lort, staring.

" Ay, indeed, have we," said Mrs. Thrale ; " I
read it when I was last confined, and I laughed
over it, and I cried over it ! "

" Oh ho ! " said Mr. Lort, " this is another
thing ! If you have had it here, I will certainly
read it."

" Had it ? ay," returned she ; " and Dr. Johnson,
who would not look at it at first, was so caught
by it when I put it in the coach with him that
he has sung its praises ever since, — and he says
Richardson would have been proud to have written
it."

"Oh ho! this is a good hearing!" cried Mr.
Lort ; " if Dr. Johnson can read it, I shall get it
with all speed."

" You need not go far for it," said Mrs. Thrale,
"for it's now upon yonder table."

I could sit still no longer ; there was something
so awkward, so uncommon, so strange in my then
situation, that I wished myself a hundred miles
off ; and, indeed, I had almost choked myself with
the biscuit, for I could not for my life swallow it ;
and so I got up, and, as Mr. Lort went to the
table to look for Evelina, I left the room, and was
forced to call for water to wash down the biscuit,
which literally stuck in my throat.

I heartily wished Mr. Lort at Jerusalem. Not-
withstanding all this may read as nothing, because
all that was said was in my favour, yet at the time,
when I knew not what might be said, I suffered the
most severe trepidation.

I did not much like going back, but the
moment I recovered breath I resolved not to
make bad worse by staying longer away : but at

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 95

the door of the room I met Mrs. Thrale, who, ask-
ing me if I would have some water, took me into
a back room, and burst into a hearty fit of laughter.

"This is very good sport!" cried she; "the
man is as innocent about the matter as a child, and
we shall hear what he says to it to-morrow at
breakfast. I made a sign to Dr. Johnson and
Seward not to tell him."

When she found I was not in a humour to
think it such good sport as she did, she grew
more serious, and, taking my hand, kindly said —

" May you never, Miss Burney, know any other
pain than that of hearing yourself praised ! and I
am sure that you must often feel."

[When I told her how much I dreaded being
discovered, and besought her not to betray me
any further, she again began laughing, and openly
declared she should not consult me about the
matter. I was really uneasy — nay, quite un-
comfortable,— for the first time I have been so
since I came thither, but as we were obliged soon
to return, I could not then press my request with
the earnestness I wished. But she told me that
as soon as I had left the room when Mr. Lort
took up Evelina, he exclaimed contemptuously,
" Why, it's printed for Lowndes ! " and that Dr.
Johnson then told him there were things and
characters in it more than worthy of Fielding.

" Oh ho ! " cried Mr. Lort, " what, is it better
than Fielding ? "

"Harry Fielding," answered Dr. Johnson,
"knew nothing but the shell of life."

" So you, ma'am," added the flattering Mrs.
Thrale, " have found the kernel."

Are they all mad ? or do they want to make
me so ?]

When we returned, to my great joy, they were
talking of other subjects, yet I could not sufficiently

96 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

recover myself the whole evening to speak one
word but in answer ; [for the dread of the criticisms
which Mr. Lort might innocently make the next
day, kept me in a most uncomfortable state of
agitation.]

When Mrs. Thrale and I retired, she not only,
as usual, accompanied me to my room, but stayed
with me at least an hour, talking over the affair.
I seized with eagerness this favourable opportunity
of conjuring her not merely not to tell Mr. Lort
my secret, but ever after never to tell anybody.
For a great while she only laughed, saying —

"Poor Miss Burney ! so you thought just to
have played and sported with your sisters and
cousins, and had it all your own way ; but now you
are in for it ! But if you will be an author and a
wit, you must take the consequences ! "

But when she found me seriously urgent and
really frightened, she changed her note, and said,

"Oh, if I find you are in earnest in desiring
concealment, I shall quite scold you ; for if such
a desire does not proceed from affectation, 'tis from
something worse."

"No, indeed," cried I, " not from affectation ;
for my conduct has been as uniform in trying to
keep snug as my words, and I never have wavered :
I never have told anybody out of my own family,
nor half the bodies in it. And I have so long
forborne making this request to you for no other
reason in the world but for fear you should think
me affected."

" Well, I won't suspect you of affectation,"
returned she — "nay, I can't, for you have looked
like your namesake in the Clandestine Marriage1
all this evening, ' of fifty colours, I wow and

1 A famous old comedy by the elder Colman and Garrick, 1766, in
which one of the characters is named Fanny. It is very frequently
quoted by Miss Burney, in whose family it was a favourite. Mrs. Thrale
is echoing the vulgar Mrs. Heidelberg of the play.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 97

purtest ' ; but when I clear you of that, I leave
something worse."

" And what, dear madam, what can be worse ? "

"Why, an over -delicacy that may make you
unhappy all your life. Indeed you must check it
— you must get the better of it : for why should
you write a book, print a book, and have everybody
read and like your book, and then sneak in a corner
and disown it ! "

" My printing it, indeed," said I, " tells terribly
against me to all who are unacquainted with the
circumstances that belonged to it, but I had so
little notion of being discovered, and was so well
persuaded that the book would never be heard of,
that I really thought myself as safe, and meant to
be as private, when the book was at Mr. Lowndes's,
as when it was in my own bureau."

"Well, I don't know what we shall do with
you ! But indeed you must blunt a little of this
delicacy, for the book has such success, that if you
don't own it, somebody else will ! "

Yet notwithstanding all her advice, and all her
encouragement, I was so much agitated by the
certainty of being known as a scribbler, that I
was really ill all night and could not sleep.

When Mrs. Thrale came to me the next
morning, she was quite concerned to find I had
really suffered from my panics.

" Oh, Miss Burney," cried she, " what shall we
do with you ? This must be conquered ; indeed
this delicacy must be got over."

"Don't call it delicacy," cried I, "when I
know you only think it folly."

" Why, indeed," said she, laughing, " it is not
very wise ! "

" Well," cried I, " if, indeed, I am in for it, why
I must seriously set about reconciling myself — yet
I never can ! "

VOL. I h

98 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

" We all love you," said the sweet woman,
" we all love you dearly already ; but the time
will come when we shall all be proud of you — so
proud, we shall not know where to place you !
You must set about a comedy ; and set about it
openly ; it is the true style of writing for you :
but you must give up all these fears and this
shyness ; you must do it without any disadvantages ;
and we will have no more of such sly, sneaking,
private ways ! "

[I told her of my fright while at Chessington
concerning Mrs. Williams, and of the letter I wrote
to beg my father would hasten to caution her.

" And did he ? " said she.

" Oh yes ! directly."

" Oh, fie ! I am ashamed of him ! how can he
think of humouring you in such maggots ? If
the book had not been liked, I would have said
nothing to it. But it is a sweet book, and the
great beauty of it is that it reflects back all our
own ideas and observations ; for everybody must
have met with some thing similar to almost all the
incidents."]

In short, had I been the child of this delightful
woman, she could not have taken more pains to
reconcile me to my situation : even when she
laughed, she contrived, by her manner, still to
reassure or to soothe me.

[We went down together. My heart was in
my mouth as we got to the library, where all the
gentlemen were waiting. I made Mrs. Thrale go in
before me.

Mr. Lort was seated close to the door, Evelina
in his hand. Mrs. Thrale began with asking how
he found it ? — I could not, if my life had depended
on it, I am sure I could not, at that moment, have
followed her in, and therefore, I skipped into the
music-room.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 99

However foolish all this may seem, the foolery
occasioned me no manner of fun, for I was quite
in an agony. However, as I met with Miss
Thrale, in a few minutes we went into the library
together.]

Dr. Johnson was later than usual this morning,
and did not come down till our breakfast was over,
and Mrs. Thrale had risen to give some orders, I
believe : I, too, rose, and took a book at another
end of the room. Some time after, before he had
yet appeared, Mr. Thrale called out to me,

" So, Miss Burney, you have a mind to feel your
legs before the doctor comes ? "

" Why so ? " cried Mr. Lort.

" Why, because when he comes she will be con-
fined."

"Ay?— how is that?"

"Why, he never lets her leave him, but keeps
her prisoner till he goes to his own room."

" Oh, ho ! " cried Mr. Lort, " she is in great
favour with him."

"Yes," said Mr. Seward, "and I think he shows
his taste."

"I did not know," said Mr. Lort, "but he
might keep her to help him in his Lives of the Poets,
if she's so clever."

"And yet," said Mrs. Thrale, "Miss Burney
never flatters him, though she is such a favourite
with him ; — but the tables are turned, for he sits
and flatters her all day long."

" I don't flatter him," said I, " because nothing
I could say would flatter him."

Mrs. Thrale then told a story of Hannah More,
which I think exceeds, in its severity, all the severe
things I have yet heard of Dr. Johnson's saying.

When she was introduced to him, not long ago,
she began singing his praise in the warmest manner,
and talking of the pleasure and the instruction she

100 DIARY AND LETTERS ws

had received from his writings, with the highest
encomiums. For some time he heard her with
that quietness which a long use of praise has given
him : she then redoubled her strokes, and, as Mr.
Seward calls it, peppered still more highly * : till, at
length, he turned suddenly to her, with a stern and
angry countenance, and said, " Madam, before you
flatter a man so grossly to his face, you should
consider whether or not your flattery is worth his
having." 2

Mr. Seward then told another instance of his
determination not to mince the matter, when he
thought reproof at all deserved. During a visit of
Miss Brown's to Streatham, he was inquiring of
her several things that she could not answer ; and,
as he held her so cheap in regard to books, he
began to question her concerning domestic affairs,
— puddings, pies, plain work, and so forth. Miss
Brown, not at all more able to give a good account
of herself in these articles than in the others, began
all her answers with, " Why, sir, one need not be
obliged to do so, — or so," whatever was the thing
in question. When he had finished his interroga-
tories, and she had finished her "need nots," he
ended the discourse with saying, "As to your
needs, my dear, they are so very many, that you
would be frightened yourself if you knew half of
them."

1 " Who pepper 'd the highest was sure to please."

Goldsmith's Retaliation, 1. 112.
2 Boswell also tells this story. See pp. 341, 342, and notes in Hill's
Boswell, 1887, iv. See also post, p. 119.

PART III

1778

Anecdotes of Johnson — A dinner at Streatham — Sir Joshua
Reynolds — Mystification — Dr. Calvert — Mrs. Cholmondeley
— Edmund Burke — His opinion of Evelina — Mrs. Montagu
— Dr. Johnson's household — A collection of oddities — A
poor scholar — The Lives of the Poets — Visit of Mrs. Montagu
to Streatham — Johnson's opinion of her — Character of
Johnson's conversation — His compliments and rebuffs —
Table-talk of Johnson, Mrs. Montagu, and Mrs. Thrale —
The value of critical abuse — Dr. Johnson's severe speeches
— "Civil for four" — Dr. Johnson and Goldsmith — Dr.
Jebb — Match-making — Critics and authors — Letter from
Mr. Crisp — Mr. Seward — A grand dinner at Streatham —
High heels — Table-talk — The distinctions of rank — Irene —
Hannah More — Her play — Letter from Mr. Crisp — How to
write a comedy.

After breakfast on Friday, or yesterday, a
curious trait occurred of Dr. Johnson's jocosity.
It was while the talk ran so copiously upon their
urgency that I should produce a comedy. While
Mrs. Thrale was in the midst of her flattering per-
suasions, the doctor, see-sawing in his chair, began
laughing to himself so heartily as to almost shake
his seat as well as his sides. We stopped our con-
fabulation, in which he had ceased to join, hoping
he would reveal the subject of his mirth ; but he
enjoyed it inwardly, without heeding our curiosity,
— till at last he said he had been struck with a
notion that "Miss Burney would begin her dra-
matic career by writing a piece called ' Streatham.' '

101

102 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

He paused, and laughed yet more cordially, and
then suddenly commanded a pomposity to his
countenance and his voice, and added, " Yes !
1 Streatham — a Farce ! ' "

[How little did I expect from this Lexiphanes,
this great and dreaded lord of English literature, a
turn for burlesque humour.]

Streatham, September. — Our journey hither
proved, as it promised, most sociably cheerful, and
Mrs. Thrale opened still further upon the subject
she began in St. Martin's Street,1 of Dr. Johnson's
kindness towards me. To be sure she saw it was
not totally disagreeable to me ; though I was really
astounded when she hinted at my becoming a rival
to Miss Streatfleld in the doctor's good graces.

" I had a long letter," she said, " from Sophy
Streatfleld 2 t'other day, and she sent Dr. Johnson
her elegant edition of the ' Classics ' ; but when he
had read the letter, he said, ' She is a sweet creature,
and I love her much ; but my little Burney writes
a better letter.' Now," continued she, "that is
just what I wished him to say of you both."

[Mr. Thrale came out to the door, and received
me with more civility than ever ; indeed we are
beginning to grow a little acquainted.]

We had no company all day ; but Mr. Thrale,
being in much better spirits than when I was here
last, joined in the conversation, and we were mighty

1 That is to say, at No. 1 St. Martin's Street, to which the Burneys
had moved from Queen Square, Bloomsbury, early in 1774. The house,
which still exists as No. 35, had formerly been Sir Isaac Newton's. He
lived in it from 1710 to 1725. At the top was a small-paned wooden
turret with a leaden roof, which passed for his observatory, and has long
since disappeared. Fanny used this occasionally as her scriptorium {Early
Diary, 1889, i. 304).

2 Miss Sophia Streatfleld of Tunbridge Wells was a beauty ; and like
Miss Elizabeth Carter, a Greek scholar.

Smiling Streatfield's iv'ry neck,
Nose and notions— a la Grecque,

are celebrated in the Morning Herald for March 12, 1782. She often
appears hereafter in Fanny's pages.

No. 35 St. Martin's Street, 1904

1778 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 103

agreeable. But he has taken it into his head to
insist upon it that I am a spouter.1 To be sure
I can't absolutely deny the fact ; but yet I am
certain he never had any reason to take such a
notion. However, he has repeatedly asked me to
read a tragedy to him, and insists upon it that I
should do it marvellous well ; and when I ask him
why, he says I have such a marking face. How-
ever, I told him I would as soon act to Mr.
Garrick, or try attitudes to Sir Joshua Reynolds,
as read to anybody at Streatham.

The next morning, after church, I took a stroll
round the grounds, and was followed by Miss
Thrale, with a summons into the parlour, to see
Miss Brown. I willingly obeyed it, for I wished
much to have a peep at her.

She is very like the Duchess of Devonshire, only
less handsome ; and, as I expected, seems a gay,
careless, lively, good-humoured girl. She came on
horseback, and stayed but a short time.

Our Monday's intended great party was very
small, for people are so dispersed at present in
various quarters, that nothing is more difficult than
to get them together. In the list of invitations
were included Mr. Garrick, Sir Richard Jebb,l? Mr.
Lort, Mr. Seward, Miss Brown, and Mr. Murphy,
— all of whom were absent from town : we had
therefore, only Sir Joshua Reynolds,3 the two
Miss Palmers,4 Dr. Calvert, Mr. Rose Fuller, and
Lady Ladd.5 Dr. Johnson did not return.

1 A reader or reciter. Murphy's Apprentice, 1756, was aimed at the
so-called Spouting Clubs. Miss Burney had a weak voice, and was not a
good reader. At p. 30 she refers to her " mauling reading," though, to
be sure, in this case, there was reason for embarrassment.

2 See ante, p. 75.

3 Sir Joshua Reynolds, 1723-92, was a neighbour of the Burneys at
St. Martin's Street. His house was in Leicester Fields, No. 47.

4 Sir Joshua's nieces. Mary, the elder (1750-1820), became in 1792
Marchioness of Thomond ; Theophila, " Offy " or "Offic" (1756-1848),
married Mr. R. L. Gwatkin in 1783. Reynolds painted them both,

5 Lady Lade was the sister of Mr. Thrale, and the mother of Sir John
Lade (see ante, p. 72). She had been handsome and was very tall.

104 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

Sir Joshua I am much pleased with : I like his
countenance, and I like his manners, the former
I think expressive, soft, and sensible ; the latter
gentle, unassuming, and engaging.

The eldest Miss Palmer seems to have a better
understanding than Offy ; but Offy has the most
pleasing face. Dr. Calvert1 1 did not see enough of
to think about.

The dinner, in quantity as well as quality, would
have sufficed for forty people. Sir Joshua said,
when the dessert appeared, " Now if all the com-
pany should take a fancy to the same dish, there
would be sufficient for all the company from any
one."

After dinner, as usual, we strolled out : I ran
first into the hall for my cloak, and Mrs. Thrale,
running after me, said in a low voice,

" If you are taxed with Evelina, don't own it ;
I intend to say it is mine, for sport's sake."

You may think how much I was surprised,
and how readily I agreed not to own it ; but I
could ask no questions, for the two Miss Palmers
followed close, saying,

" Now pray, ma'am, tell us who it is ? "

"No, no," cried Mrs. Thrale, "who it is, you
must find out ; I have told you that you dined
with the author ; but the rest you must make out
as you can."

Miss Thrale began tittering violently, but I
entreated her not to betray me ; and, as soon as I
could, I got Mrs. Thrale to tell me what all this
meant. She then acquainted me, that when she
first came into the parlour, she found them all busy
in talking of Evelina ; and heard that Sir Joshua
had declared he would give fifty pounds to know
the author.

1 Calvert was the name of Mr. Seward's father's partner. This was
probably a relative.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 105

"Well," said Mrs. Thrale, "thus much, then,
I will tell you ; the author will dine with you
to-day."

They were then all distracted to know the
party.

" Why," said she, " we shall have Dr. Calvert,
Lady Ladd, Rose Fuller, and Miss Burney."

" Miss Burney ? " quoth they, " which Miss
Burney ? "

" Why, the eldest, Miss Fanny Burney ; and so
out of this list, you must make out the author."

I shook my head at her, but begged her, at
least, to go no further.

" No, no," cried she, laughing, " leave me alone ;
the fun will be to make them think it mine."

However, as I learnt at night, when they were
gone, Sir Joshua was so very importunate with
Mr. Thrale, and attacked him with such eagerness,
that he made him confess who it was, as soon as
the ladies retired.

Well, to return to our walk. The Miss Palmers
grew more and more urgent.

"Did we indeed," said the eldest, "dine with
the author of Evelina ? "

" Yes, in good truth did you."

" Why then, ma'am, it was yourself ! "

" I shan't tell you whether it was or not ; but
were there not other people at dinner besides me ?
What think you of Dr. Calvert ? "

" Dr. Calvert ? no, no ; I am sure it was not
he : besides, they say it was certainly written by a
woman."

" By a woman ? nay, then, is not here Lady
Ladd, and Miss Burney, and Hester ? " x

" Lady Ladd I am sure it was not, nor could it
be Miss Thrale's. Oh, ma'am ! I begin to think it
was really yours ! Now, was it not, Mrs. Thrale ? "

1 i.e. " Queenie " Thrale

106 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 177s

Mrs. Thrale only laughed. Lady Ladd, coming
suddenly behind me, put her hands on my shoulders,
and whispered,

"Shall I tell?"

"Tell ?— tell what ? " cried I, amazed.

" Why, whose it is ! "

" Oh, ma'am," cried I, " who has been so wicked
as to tell your ladyship ? "

" Oh, no matter for that ; I have known it some
time."

I entreated her, however, to keep counsel,
though I could not forbear expressing my surprise
and chagrin.

" A lady of our acquaintance," said Miss Palmer,
" Mrs. Cholmondeley, went herself to the printer,
but he would not tell."

" Would he not ? " cried Mrs. Thrale ; " why,
then, he's an honest man."

" Oh, is he so ? — nay, then, it is certainly Mrs.
Thrale's!"

"Well, well, I told you before I should not
deny it."

"Miss Burney," said she, "pray do you deny
it ? " in a voice that seemed to say, — I must ask
round, though rather from civility than suspicion.

"Me?" cried I, "oh no: if nobody else will
deny it, why should I ? It does not seem the
fashion to deny it."

" No, in truth," cried she ; " I believe nobody
would think of denying it that could claim it, for
it is the sweetest book in the world. My uncle
could not go to bed till he had finished it, and he
says he is sure he shall make love to the author, if
ever he meets with her, and it should really be a
woman ! "

"Dear madam," cried Miss Offy, "I am sure
it was you ; but why will you not own it at
once ?

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 107

" I shall neither own nor deny anything about

" A gentleman whom we know very well," said
Miss Palmer, " when he could learn nothing at the
printer's, took the trouble to go all about Snow
Hill, to see if he could find any silversmiths." l

" Well, he was a cunning creature ! " said Mrs.
Thrale ; " but Dr. Johnson's favourite is Mr.
Smith."

" So he is of everybody," answered she ; " he
and all that family : everybody says such a family
never was drawn before. But Mrs. Cholmondeley's
favourite is Madame Duval ; she acts her from
morning to night, and ma-fois everybody she sees.
But though we all want so much to know the
author, both Mrs. Cholmondeley and my uncle
himself say they should be frightened to death to
be in her company, because she must be such a
very nice observer, that there would be no escaping
her with safety."

What strange ideas are taken from mere book-
reading ! But what follows gave me the highest
delight I can feel.

" Mr. Burke," 2 she continued, " doats on it : he
began it one morning at 7 o'clock, and could not
leave it a moment ; he sat up all night reading it.
He says he has not seen such a book he can't tell
when."

Mrs. Thrale gave me involuntarily a look of
congratulation, and could not forbear exclaiming,
" How glad she was Mr. Burke approved it ! "
This served to confirm the Palmers in their mis-
take, and they now, without further questioning,
quietly and unaffectedly concluded the book to
be really Mrs. Thrale's ; and Miss Palmer said,

1 Mr. Branghton of Evelina was a silversmith on Snow Hill.

2 The first mention of Fanny's most illustrious friend after Johnson,
Edmund Burke, 1729-97. His portrait was included in the Thrale Gallery.

108 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

" Indeed, ma'am, you ought to write a novel every
year : nobody can write like you ! "

[I was both delighted and diverted at this mis-
take, and they grew so easy and so satisfied under
it, that the conversation dropped, and Offy went
to the harpsichord.

When the gentlemen came in to tea, Rose
Fuller, who sat on the other side of me, began a
conversation with the Miss Palmers in a very low
voice, and they listened with the most profound
attention ; but presently, hearing Miss Palmer say,
" How astonishing ! what an extraordinary per-
formance ! what a nice observer she must be ! " I
began to fear Rose Fuller was himself au fait.
However, they all spoke so low, I could only now
and then gather a word ; but I found the tenour of
the conversation to be all commendation, mixed
with expressions of surprise.

Lady Ladd would not let me listen as I wished
to do, for she interrupted me to ask (almost killing
herself with laughter as she spoke) whether I was
ever at Vauxhall the last night ? I knew what
she meant, and wished young Branghton over head
and ears in a kennel for drawing me into such a
scrape.]

Not long after, the party broke up, and they
took leave.

I had no conversation with Sir Joshua all day ;
but I found myself much more an object of atten-
tion to him than I wished to be ; and he several
times spoke to me, though he did not make love ! l

When they rose to take leave, Miss Palmer,
with the air of asking the greatest of favours, hoped
to see me when I returned to town ; and Sir Joshua,
approaching me with the most profound respect,
inquired how long I should remain at Streatham ?
A week, I believed : and then he hoped, when I

1 See Sir Joshua's declaration above, p. 106.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 109

left it, they should have the honour of seeing me
in Leicester Square.

In short, the joke is, the people speak as if they
were afraid of me, instead of my being afraid of
them. It seems, when they got to the door, Miss
Palmer said to Mrs. Thrale,

" Ma'am, so it's Miss Burney after all ! "
"Ay, sure," answered she, "who should it be ?"
" Ah ! why did not you tell us sooner ? " said
OfTy, "that we might have had a little talk
about it ? "

Here, therefore, end all my hopes of secrecy !
I take leave of them with the utmost regret, and
though never yet was any scribbler drawn more
honourably, more creditably, more partially into
notice, I nevertheless cannot persuade myself to
rejoice in the loss of my dear old obscurity.

Tuesday morning, Mrs. Thrale asked me if I
did not want to see Mrs. Montagu ? 1 I truly said,
I should be the most insensible of all animals not
to like to see our sex's glory.

"Well," said she, "we'll try to make you see
her. Sir Joshua says she is in town, and I will
write and ask her here. I wish you to see her of
all things."

Mrs. Thrale wrote her note before breakfast.

I had a great deal of private confab afterwards
with Lady Ladd and Miss Thrale, concerning Miss
Streatfleld : I find she is by no means a favourite
with either of them, though she is half adored by
Mr. and Mrs. Thrale, and by Dr. Johnson. And
Lady Ladd, among other things, mentioned her
being here once when Mrs. Montagu came, and

1 Mrs. Elizabeth Montagu, n6e Robinson, 1720-1800, letter-writer, leader
of society, and originator of " The Blue Stocking Club." In 1769 she had
published an Essay on the Writings and Genius of Shakespear. There is
a well-known mezzotint of her by J. R. Smith, after Reynolds, dated 1776.
See Johnson's praise of her at p. 116.

110 DIARY AND LETTERS OF m%

blamed Mrs. Thrale for making much of her before
Mrs. Montagu ; "who," she added, " has no notion
of any girl acquaintance, and indeed, makes a point
of only cultivating people of consequence/'

I determined, in my own mind, to make use of
this hint, and keep myself as much cut of her way
as I could. Indeed, at any rate, a woman of such
celebrity in the literary world would be the last I
should covet to converse with, though one of the
first I should wish to listen to.

Lady Ladd went to town before dinner. Her
ladyship is immensely civil to me, and we are
mighty facetious together. I find she has really
some drollery about her, when she lays aside her
dignity and stateliness, and is very fond of jocose-
ness, to which she contributes her part much better
than I first imagined she could.

An answer came from Mrs. Montagu at noon.
Mrs. Thrale gave it me to read : it was in a high
strain of politesse,1 expressed equal admiration and
regard for Mrs. Thrale, and accepted her invitation
for the next day. But what was my surprise to
read, at the bottom of the letter, " I have not yet
seen Evelina, but will certainly get it : and if it
should not happen to please me, the disgrace must
be mine, not the author's."

"Oh, ma'am," cried I, "what does this mean?"

" Why, only," said she, " that, in my letter this
morning I said, ' Have you seen the new work called
Evelina ? it was written by an amiable young friend
of mine, and I wish much to know your opinion
of it ; for if you should not approve it, what
signifies the approbation of a Johnson, a Burke,
etc.?'"

[Oh, what a woman is this Mrs. Thrale ! — since
she will make the book known, — how sweet a

1 Cf. Early Diary, 1889, ii. 157, where Johnson and Mrs. Thrale discuss
one of her alembicated epistles.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 111

method was this of letting Mrs. Montagu know
the honour it has received !]

Before dinner, to my great joy, Dr. Johnson
returned home from Warley Common.1 I followed
Mrs. Thrale into the library to see him, and he is
so near-sighted that he took me for Miss Streat-
fleld : but he did not welcome me less kindly when
he found his mistake, which Mrs. Thrale made
known by saying, " No, 'tis Miss Streatfield's rival,
Miss Burney."

At tea-time the subject turned upon the
domestic economy of Dr. Johnson's own household.
Mrs. Thrale has often acquainted me that his house
is quite filled and overrun with all sorts of strange
creatures, whom he admits for mere charity, and
because nobody else will admit them — for his
charity is unbounded, — or, rather, bounded only
by his circumstances.

The account he gave of the adventures and
absurdities of the set was highly diverting, but too
diffused for writing, though one or two speeches I
must give. I think I shall occasionally theatricalise
my dialogues.

Mrs. Thrale. — Pray, sir, how does Mrs. Williams
like all this tribe ?

Dr. Johnson. — Madam, she does not like them
at all ; but their fondness for her is not greater.
She and De Mullin2 quarrel incessantly; but as they
can both be occasionally of service to each other,
and as neither of them have any other place to go
to, their animosity does not force them to separate.

Mrs. T. — And pray, sir, what is Mr. Macbean ? 3

1 Fears of French invasion had established a camp at Warley Common
in Essex ; and Johnson had been to visit Bennet Langton, who was a
captain in the Lincolnshire Militia.

2 Mrs. Desmoulins was the daughter of Johnson's godfather, Dr.
Swinfen, and the widow of a writing-master named Desmoulins. She was
with Johnson when he died.

3 Alexander Macbean, d. 1784. His Dictionary of Ancient Geography
appeared in 1773, with a Preface by Johnson.

112 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ms

Dr. J. — Madam, he is a Scotchman : he is a
man of great learning, and for his learning I respect
him, and I wish to serve him. He knows many
languages, and knows them well ; but he knows
nothing of life. I advised him to write a geo-
graphical dictionary ; but I have lost all hopes
of his ever doing anything properly, since I found
he gave as much labour to Capua as to Rome.

Mr. T. — And pray who is clerk of your kitchen,
sir?

Dr. J. — Why, sir, I am afraid there is none ; a
general anarchy prevails in my kitchen, as I am
told by Mr. Levat,1 who says it is not now what it
used to be !

Mrs. T. — Mr. Levat, I suppose, sir, has the
office of keeping the hospital in health ? for he is
an apothecary.

Dr. J. — Levat, madam, is a brutal fellow, but I
have a good regard for him ; for his brutality is in
his manners, not his mind.

Mr. T. — But how do you get your dinners
drest ?

Dr. J. — Why, De Mullin has the chief manage-
ment of the kitchen ; but our roasting is not magni-
ficent, for we have no jack.

Mr. T. — No jack ? Why, how do they manage
without ?

Dr. J. — Small joints, I believe, they manage
with a string, and larger are done at the tavern. I
have some thoughts (with a profound gravity) of

1 Robert Levett, 1701-82, a worthy but eccentric surgeon who had been
domesticated with Johnson since 1763. Some of the doctor's best verses
were prompted by his old friend's death. Here are stanzas 2 and 7 : —

Well tried through many a varying year,

See Levett to the grave descend,
Officious, innocent, sincere,

Of every friendless name the friend.

His virtues walked their narrow round,
Nor made a pause, nor left a void ;

And sure the Eternal Master found
The single talent well-employed.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 113

buying a jack, because I think a jack is some credit
to a house.

Mr. T.— Well, but you'll have a spit, too ?

Dr. J. — No, sir, no ; that would be superfluous ;
for we shall never use it ; and if a jack is seen, a
spit will be presumed !

Mrs. T. — But pray, sir, who is the Poll1 you
talk of? She that you used to abet in her quarrels
with Mrs. Williams, and call out, " At her again,
Poll! Never flinch, Poll"?

Dr. J. — Why, I took to Poll very well at first,
but she won't do upon a nearer examination.

Mrs. T. — How came she among you, sir ?

Dr. J. — Why, I don't rightly remember, but we
could spare her very well from us. Poll is a stupid
slut ; I had some hopes of her at first ; but when I
talked to her tightly and closely, I could make
nothing of her ; she was wiggle-waggle, and I could
never persuade her to be categorical. I wish Miss
Burney would come among us ; if she would only
give us a week, we should furnish her with ample
materials for a new scene in her next work.

A little while after he asked Mrs. Thrale, who
had read Evelina in his absence ?

" Who ? " cried she ; — " why, Burke ! — Burke sat
up all night to finish it ; and Sir Joshua Reynolds
is mad about it, and said he would give fifty pounds
to know the author. But our fun was with his
nieces — we made them believe I wrote the book,
and the girls gave me the credit of it at once."

"I am sorry for it, madam," cried he, quite
angrily, — " you were much to blame ; deceits of
that kind ought never to be practised ; they have a
worse tendency than you are aware of."

Mrs. T. — Why, don't frighten yourself, sir ;
Miss Burney will have all the credit she has a right
to, for I told them whose it was before they went.

1 Miss Carmichael, otherwise " Poll," another of Johnson's pensioners.
VOL. I I

114 DIARY AND LETTERS OF vrn

Dr. J. — But you were very wrong for misleading
them a moment ; such jests are extremely blam-
able ; they are foolish in the very act, and they are
wrong, because they always leave a doubt upon the
mind. What first passed will be always recollected
by those girls, and they will never feel clearly con-
vinced which wrote the book, Mrs. Thrale or Miss
Burney.

Mrs. T. — Well, well, I am ready to take my
Bible oath it was not me ; and if that won't do,
Miss Burney must take hers too.

I was then looking over the Life of Cowley,1
which he had himself given me to read, at the same
time that he gave to Mrs. Thrale that of Waller.
They are now printed, though they will not be
published for some time. But he bade me put it
away.

"Do," cried he, "put away that now, and
prattle with us ; I can't make this little Burney
prattle, and I am sure she prattles well ; but 1
shall teach her another lesson than to sit thus silent
before I have done with her."

" To talk," cried I, " is the only lesson I shall
be backward to learn from you, sir."

"You shall give me," cried he, "a discourse
upon the passions : come, begin ! Tell us the
necessity of regulating them, watching over and
curbing them ! Did you ever read Norris's Theory
of Love V'2

" No, sir," said I, laughing, yet staring a
little.

Dr. J. — Well, it is worth your reading. He
will make you see that inordinate love is the root
of all evil : inordinate love of wealth brings on
avarice ; of wine, brings on intemperance ; of

1 The first of the Lives of the Poets. It had been sent to press in
December 1777. Waller, Denham, and Butler came next.

2 Published in 1688. The author, a mystic and disciple of Malebranche,
was the Rev. John Norris, 1657-1711, rector of Bemerton.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 115

power, brings on cruelty ; and so on. He deduces
from inordinate love all human frailty.

Mrs. T. — To-morrow, sir, Mrs. Montagu dines
here, and then you will have talk enough.

Dr. Johnson began to see-saw, with a counte-
nance strongly expressive of inward fun, and
after enjoying it some time in silence, he suddenly,
and with great animation, turned to me and
cried,

"Down with her, Burney ! — down with her! —
spare her not ! — attack her, fight her, and down
with her at once ! You are a rising wit, and she is
at the top ; and when I was beginning the world,
and was nothing and nobody, the joy of my life
was to fire at all the established wits ! and then
everybody loved to halloo me on. But there is no
game now ; everybody would be glad to see me
conquered : but then, when I was new, to vanquish
the great ones was all the delight of my poor little
dear soul ! So at her, Burney — at her, and down
with her ! "

Oh, how we were all amused ! By the way I
must tell you that Mrs. Montagu is in very great
estimation here, even with Dr. Johnson himself,
when others do not praise her improperly. Mrs.
Thrale ranks her as the first of women in the
literary way. I should have told you that Miss
Gregory, daughter of the Gregory who wrote the
Letters, or, Legacy of Advice,1 lives with Mrs.
Montagu, and was invited to accompany her.

" Mark now," said Dr. Johnson, " if I contradict
her to-morrow. I am determined, let her say what
she will, that I will not contradict her."

Mrs. T. — Why, to be sure, sir, you did put her
a little out of countenance last time she came.
Yet you were neither rough, nor cruel, nor ill-

1 John Gregory, M.D., 1724-73. His letters, entitled A Fathers
Legacy to His Daughters, were published posthumously in 1774.

116 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ms

natured ; but still, when a lady changes colour, we
imagine her feelings are not quite composed.

Dr. J. — Why, madam, I won't answer that I
shan't contradict her again, if she provokes me as
she did then ; but a less provocation I will with-
stand. I believe I am not high in her good graces
already ; and I begin (added he, laughing heartily)
to tremble for my admission into her new house.1
I doubt I shall never see the inside of it.

(Mrs. Montagu is building a most superb house.)

Mrs. T. — Oh, I warrant you, she fears you, in-
deed ; but that, you know, is nothing uncommon :
and dearly I love to hear your disquisitions ; for
certainly she is the first woman for literary know-
ledge in England, and if in England, I hope I may
say in the world.

Dr. J. — I believe you may, madam. She diffuses
more knowledge in her conversation than any
woman I know, or, indeed, almost any man.

Mrs. T. — I declare I know no man equal to her,
take away yourself and Burke, for that art. And
you who love magnificence, won't quarrel with
her, as everybody else does, for her love of finery.

Dr. J. — No, I shall not quarrel with her upon
that topic. (Then, looking earnestly at me),
" Nay," he added, " it's very handsome ! "

" What, sir ? " cried I, amazed.

" Why, your cap : — I have looked at it some
time, and I like it much. It has not that vile
bandeau across it, which I have so often cursed."

Did you ever hear anything so strange ? nothing
escapes him. My Daddy Crisp is not more minute
in his attentions : nay, I think he is even less so.

Mrs. T. — Well, sir, that bandeau you quarrelled
with was worn by every woman at court the last

1 Montagu House, Portman Square. This was the mansion of the pea-
cock hangings celebrated by Cowper —

The Birds put off their every hue
To dress a room for Montagu.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 117

birthday,1 and I observed that all the men found
fault with it.

Dr. J. — The truth is, women, take them in
general, have no idea of grace. Fashion is all they
think of. I don't mean Mrs. Thrale and Miss
Burney, when I talk of women ! — they are god-
desses ! — and therefore I except them.

Mrs. T. — Lady Ladd never wore the bandeau,
and said she never would, because it is unbecoming.

Dr. J. (laughing). — Did not she ? then is
Lady Ladd a charming woman, and I have yet
hopes of entering into engagements with her I

Mrs. T. — Well, as to that I can't say ; but to
be sure, the only similitude I have yet discovered
in you, is in size : there you agree mighty well.

Dr. J. — Why, if anybody could have worn the
bandeau, it must have been Lady Ladd ; for there
is enough of her to carry it off; but you are too
little for anything ridiculous ; that which seems
nothing upon a Patagonian, will become very
conspicuous upon a Lilliputian, and of you there
is so little in all, that one single absurdity would
swallow up half of you.

Some time after, when we had all been a few
minutes wholly silent, he turned to me and said,

" Come, Burney, shall you and I study our parts
against Mrs. Montagu comes ? "

"Miss Burney," cried Mr. Thrale, "you must
get up your courage for this encounter ! I think
you should begin with Miss Gregory ; and down
with her first."

Dr. J. — No, no, always fly at the eagle ! down
with Mrs. Montagu herself ! I hope she will come
full of Evelina \

Wednesday. — At breakfast, Dr. Johnson asked
me, if I had been reading his Life of Cowley ?

1 " New clothes on the birthday were the fashion for all loyal people "
(Thackeray's Four Georges, 1866, pp. 96, 97).

118 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

" Oh yes," said I.
1 " And what do you think of it ? "

"I am delighted with it," cried I; "and if I
was somebody, instead of nobody, I should not
have read it without telling you sooner what I
think of it. and unasked."

Again, when I took up Cowley's JLife, he made
me put it away to talk. I could not help remark-
ing how very like Dr. Johnson is to his writing ;
and how much the same thing it was to hear or to
read him ; but that nobody could tell that without
coming to Streatham, for his language was gener-
ally imagined to be laboured and studied, instead
of the mere common flow of his thoughts.1

"Very true," said Mrs. Thrale, "he writes and
talks with the same ease, and in the same manner ;
but, sir (to him), if this rogue is like her book,
how will she trim all of us by and by ! Now, she
dainties us up with all the meekness in the world ;
but when we are away, I suppose she pays us off
finely."

" My paying off," cried I, "is like the Latin of
Hudibras,

" . . . who never scanted,
His learning unto such as wanted ; 2

for I can figure like anything when I am with
those who can't figure at all."

Mrs. T. — Oh, if you have any magz in you,
we'll draw it out !

Dr. J. — A rogue ! she told me that if she was
somebody instead of nobody, she would praise my
book !

F. B. — Why, sir, I am sure you would scoff my
praise.

1 This is a curious testimony to Johnson's later style. See also Mrs.
Thrale's reply.

2 Hudibras, Pt. I. Canto i. 11. 55-6 (not textual).

3 Mag = chatter (Da vies, Supplemental Glossary).

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 119

Dr. J. — If you think that, you think very ill of
me ; but you don't think it.

Mrs. T. — We have told her what you said to
Miss More, and I believe that makes her afraid.1

Dr. J. — Well, and if she was to serve me as
Miss More did, I should say the same thing to her.
But I think she will not. Hannah More has very
good intellects, too ; but she has by no means the
elegance of Miss Burney.

" Well," cried I, " there are folks that are to be
spoilt, and folks that are not to be spoilt, as well
in the world as in the nursery ; but what will
become of me, I know not."

Mrs. T. — Well, if you are spoilt, we can only say,
nothing in the world is so pleasant as being spoilt.

Dr. J. — No, no ; Burney will not be spoilt : she
knows too well what praise she has a claim to, and
what not, to be in any danger of spoiling.

F. B. — I do, indeed, believe I shall never be
spoilt at Streatham, for it is the last place where I
can feel of any consequence.

Mrs. T. — Well, sir, she is our Miss Burney,
however ; we were the first to catch her, and now
we have got, we will keep her. And so she is all
our own.

Dr. J. — Yes, I hope she is ; I should be very
sorry to lose Miss Burney.

F. B. — Oh, dear ! how can two such people sit
and talk such

Mrs. T. — Such stuff, you think ? but Dr. John-
son's love

Dr. J. — Love? no, I don't entirely love her
yet ; I must see more of her first ; I have much
too high an opinion of her to flatter her. I have,
indeed, seen nothing of her but what is fit to be
loved, but I must know her more. I admire her,
and greatly too.

1 See ante, p. 99.

120 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

F. B. — Well, this is a very new style to me ! I
have long enough had reason to think myself loved,
but admiration is perfectly new to me.

Dr. J. — I admire her for her observation, for
her good sense, for her humour, for her discern-
ment, for her manner of expressing them, and for
all her writing talents.

I quite sigh beneath the weight of such praise
from such persons — sigh with mixed gratitude for
the present, and fear for the future ; for I think I
shall never, never be able to support myself long so
well with them.

We could not prevail with him to stay till
Mrs. Montagu arrived, though, by appointment, she
came very early. She and Miss Gregory came by
one o'clock.

There was no party to meet her.

She is middle-sized, very thin, and looks infirm ;
she has a sensible and penetrating countenance,
and the air and manner of a woman accustomed
to being distinguished, and of great parts. Dr.
Johnson, who agrees in this, told us that a Mrs.
Hervey, of his acquaintance, says, she can
remember Mrs. Montagu trying for this same air
and manner. Mr. Crisp has said the same : how-
ever, nobody can now impartially see her, and not
confess that she has extremely well succeeded.

My expectations, which were compounded of
the praise of Mrs. Thrale, and the abuse of Mr.
Crisp, were most exactly answered, for I thought
her in a medium way.

Miss Gregory is a fine young woman, and seems
gentle and well-bred.

A bustle with the dog Presto — Mrs. Thrale's
favourite — at the entrance of these ladies into the
library, prevented any formal reception ; but as
soon as Mrs. Montagu heard my name, she in-

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 121

quired very civilly after my father, and made many
speeches concerning a volume of Linguet? which
she has lost ; but she hopes soon to be able to
replace it. I am sure he is very high in her favour,
because she did me the honour of addressing her-
self to me three or four times.

But my ease and tranquillity were soon dis-
turbed : for she had not been in the room more
than ten minutes, ere, turning to Mrs. Thrale, she
said —

" Oh, ma'am — but your Evelina — I have not yet
got it — I sent for it, but the bookseller had it not.
However, I will certainly have it."

" Ay, I hope so," answered Mrs. Thrale, " and I
hope you will like it too ; for 'tis a book to be
liked."

I began now a vehement nose-blowing, for the
benefit of handkerchiefmg my face.

" I hope though," said Mrs. Montagu drily, " it
is not in verse ? I can read anything in prose, but
I have a great dread of a long story in verse."

" No, ma'am, no ; 'tis all in prose, I assure you.

'Tis a novel ; and an exceeding but it does

nothing good to Be praised too much, so I will say
nothing more about it ; only this, that Mr. Burke
sat up all night to read it."

" Indeed ? Well, I propose myself great plea-
sure from it ; and I am gratified by hearing it is
written by a woman."

"And Sir Joshua Reynolds," continued Mrs.
Thrale, " has been offering fifty pounds to know
the author."

" Well, I will have it to read on my journey ;
I am going to Berkshire, and it shall be my travel-
ling book."

" No, ma'am, if you please you shall have it

1 S. N. H. Linguet, 1736-94, was a political and miscellaneous writer
(see post, p. 125).

122 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ms

now. Queeny, do look for it for Mrs. Montagu,
and let it be put in her carriage, and go to town
with her."

Miss Thrale rose to look for it, and involuntarily
I rose too, intending to walk off, for my situation
was inexpressibly awkward ; but then I recollected
that if I went away, it might seem like giving Mrs.
Thrale leave and opportunity to tell my tale, and
therefore I stopped at a distant window, where I
busied myself in contemplating the poultry.

"And Dr. Johnson, ma'am," added my kind
puffer, " says Fielding never wrote so well — never
wrote equal to this book ; he says it is a better
picture of life and manners than is to be found
anywhere in Fielding."

" Indeed ? " cried Mrs. Montagu surprised ; " that
I did not expect, for I have been informed it is the
work of a young lady, and therefore, though I
expected a very pretty book, I supposed it to be a
work of mere imagination, and the name I thought
attractive ; but life and manners I never dreamt of
finding."

" Well, ma am, what I tell you is literally true ;
and for my part, I am never better pleased than
when good girls write clever books — and that this
is clever — But all this time we are killing Miss
Burney, who wrote the book herself."

What a clap of thunder was this ! — the last thing
in the world I should have expected before my
face ! I know not what bewitched Mrs. Thrale,
but this was carrying the jest farther than ever.
All retenue being now at an end, I fairly and
abruptly took to my heels, and ran out of the room
with the utmost trepidation, amidst astonished
exclamations from Mrs. Montagu and Miss Gregory.

I was horribly disconcerted, but I am now so
irrecoverably in for it, that I begin to leave off
reproaches and expostulations ; indeed, they have

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 123

very little availed me while they might have been
of service, but now they would pass for mere parade
and affectation ; and therefore since they can do no
good, I gulp them down. I find them, indeed,
somewhat hard of digestion, but they must make
their own way as well as they can.

I determined not to make my appearance again
till dinner was upon table ; yet I could neither read
nor write, nor indeed do anything but consider the
new situation in life into which I am thus hurried
— I had almost said forced — and if I had, methinks
it would be no untruth.

Miss Thrale came laughing up after me, and
tried to persuade me to return. She was mightily
diverted all the morning, and came to me with
repeated messages of summons to attend the com-
pany ; but I could not brave it again into the room,
and therefore entreated her to say I was finishing a
letter. Yet I was sorry to lose so much of Mrs.
Montagu.

When dinner was upon table, I followed the
procession, in a tragedy step, as Mr. Thrale will
have it, into the dining-parlour. Dr. Johnson was
returned.

The conversation was not brilliant, nor do I
remember much of it ; but Mrs. Montagu behaved
to me just as I could have wished, since she spoke
to me very little, but spoke that little with the
utmost politeness. But Miss Gregory, though
herself a very modest girl, quite stared me out of
countenance, and never took her eyes off my face.

When Mrs. Montagu's new house l was talked
of, Dr. Johnson, in a jocose manner, desired to
know if he should be invited to see it.

"Ay, sure," cried Mrs. Montagu, looking well
pleased ; " or else I shan't like it : but I invite you
all to a house warming ; I shall hope for the honour

1 See ante, p. 116.

124 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ms

of seeing all this company at my new house next
Easter day : I fix the day now that it may be
remembered."

Everybody bowed and accepted the invite but
me, and I thought fitting not to hear it ; for I have
no notion at snapping at invites from the eminent.
But Dr. Johnson, who sat next to me, was deter-
mined I should be of the party, for he suddenly
clapped his hand on my shoulder, and called out
aloud —

" Little Burney, you and I will go together ! "

" Yes, surely," cried Mrs. Montagu, " I shall
hope for the pleasure of seeing ' Evelina.' '

" Evelina ? " repeated he ; " has Mrs. Montagu
then found out Evelina ? "

" Yes," cried she, " and I am proud of it : I am
proud that a work so commended should be a
woman's."

Oh, how my face burnt !

" Has Mrs. Montagu," asked Dr. Johnson, " read
Evelina ? "

" No, sir, not yet ; but I shall immediately, for
I feel the greatest eagerness to read it."

" I am very sorry, madam," replied he, " that
you have not read it already, because you cannot
speak of it with a full conviction of its merit :
which, I believe, when you have read it, you will
find great pleasure in acknowledging."

Some other things were said, but I remember
them not, for I could hardly keep my place : but
my sweet, naughty Mrs. Thrale looked delighted
for me.

I made tea as usual, and Mrs. Montagu and
Miss Gregory seated themselves on each side of
me.

"I can see," said the former, "that Miss
Burney is very like her father, and that is a good
thing, for everybody would wish to be like Dr.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 125

Burney. Pray, when you see him, give my best
respects to him ; I am afraid he thinks me a
thief with his Linguet ; 1 but I assure you I am
a very honest woman, and I spent full three hours
in looking for it."

" I am sure," cried Mrs. Thrale, " Dr. Burney
would much rather you should have employed that
time about some other book."

They went away very early, because Mrs.
Montagu is a great coward in a carriage. She
repeated her invitation as she left the room. So
now that I am invited to Mrs. Montagu's, I think
the measure of my glory full !

When they were gone, how did Dr. Johnson
astonish me by asking if I had observed what
an ugly cap Miss Gregory had on ? And then
taking both my hands, and looking at me with an
expression of much kindness, he said,

"Well, Miss Burney, Mrs. Montagu now will
read Evelina."

To read it he seems to think is all that is
wanted, and, far as I am from being of the same
opinion, I dare not to him make disqualifying
speeches, because it might seem impertinent to
suppose her more difficult to please than himself.

" You were very kind, sir," cried I, " to speak
of it with so much favour and indulgence at
dinner ; yet I hardly knew how to sit it then,
though I shall be always proud to remember it
hereafter."

" Why, it is true," said he, kindly, " that such
things are disagreeable to sit, nor do I wonder
you were distressed ; yet sometimes they are
necessary."

Was this not very kind ? I am sure he meant
that the sanction of his good opinion, so publicly
given to Mrs. Montagu, would in a manner stamp

1 See ante, p. 121.

126 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ms

the success of my book ; and though, had I been
allowed to preserve the snugness I had planned, I
need not have concerned myself at all about its
fate, yet now that I find myself exposed with it, I
cannot but wish it insured from disgrace.

"Well, sir," cried I, "I don't think I shall
mind Mrs. Montagu herself now ; after what you
have said, I believe I should not mind even abuse
from any one."

" No, no, never mind them ! " cried he ; " re-
solve not to mind them : they can do you no
serious hurt."

Mrs. Thrale then told me such civil things.
Mrs. Montagu, it seems, during my retreat,
inquired very particularly what kind of book it
was ?

" And I told her," continued Mrs. Thrale, " that
it was a picture of life, manners, and characters.
6 But won't she go on ? ' says she ; ' surely she
won't stop here ? '

" ' Why,' said I, ' I want her to go on in a new
path — I want her to write a comedy.'

" ' But,' said Mrs. Montagu, ' one thing must
be considered ; Fielding, who was so admirable in
novel-writing, never succeeded when he wrote for
the stage.' "

" Very well said," cried Dr. Johnson ; " that
was an answer which showed she considered her
subject."

Mrs. Thrale continued :

" ' Well, but a proposj said Mrs. Montagu, ' if
Miss Burney does write a play, I beg I may know
of it ; or, if she thinks proper, see it ; and all my
influence is at her service. We shall all be glad to
assist in spreading the fame of Miss Burney.' '

I tremble for what all this will end in. I
verily think I had best stop where I am, and
never again attempt writing : for after so much

1778 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 127

honour, so much success — how shall I bear a
downfall ?

Mrs. T. — Oh, a propos ; now you have a new
edition 1 coming out, why should you not put your
name to it ?

F. B. — Oh, ma'am — I would not for the world !

Mrs. T. — And why not ? come, let us have done
now with all this diddle-daddle.

F. B. — No, indeed, ma'am ; so long as I live I
never can consent to that.

Mrs. T. — Well, but seriously, Miss Burney,
why should you not ? I advise it with all my
heart, and I'll tell you why ; you want hardening,
and how can you get it better than by putting
your name to this book (to begin with), which
everybody likes, and against which I have heard
nobody offer any objection ? You can never write
what will please more universally.

F. B. — But why, ma'am, should I be hardened ?

Mrs. T. — To enable you to bear a little abuse
by and by.

F. B. — Oh, Heaven forbid I should be tried in
that way !

Mrs. T. — Oh, you must not talk so ; I hope to
live to see you trimmed very handsomely.

F. B. — Heaven forbid ! I am sure I should
hang or drown myself in such a case !

Mrs. T. — You grieve me to hear you talk so ;
is not everybody abused that meets with success ?
You must prepare yourself not to mind a few
squibs. How is Dr. Johnson abused ! and who
thinks the worse of him ?

This comparison made me grin, and so our
discourse ended. But pray Heaven may spare me
the horror irrecoverable of personal abuse ! Let

1 This was premature, for the second edition is dated 1779. Mrs.
Chappel, of East Orchard, Shaftesbury, has a copy of this edition,
presented by the author to Dr. Burney: — "From his dutiful scribler.'*
His name is also filled up in the heading of the dedicatory verses.

128 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ms

them criticise, cut, slash, without mercy my book,
and let them neglect me ; but may God avert my
becoming a public theme of ridicule ! In such a
case, how should I wish Evelina had followed her
humble predecessors to the all-devouring flames,
which, in consuming her, would have preserved her
creatress !

Monday, September 21. — I am more comfort-
able here than ever ; Dr. Johnson honours me with
increasing kindness ; Mr. Thrale is much more easy
and sociable than when I was here before ; I am
quite jocose, whenever I please, with Miss Thrale ;
and the charming head and life of the house, her
mother, stands the test of the closest examination,
as well and as much to her honour as she does a
mere cursory view. She is, indeed, all that is
excellent and desirable in woman.

I have had a thousand delightful conversations
with Dr. Johnson, who, whether he loves me or
not, I am sure seems to have some opinion of my
discretion, for he speaks of all this house to me
with unbounded confidence, neither diminishing
faults, nor exaggerating praise. Whenever he is
below stairs he keeps me a prisoner, for he does
not like I should quit the room a moment ; if I
rise he constantly calls out, " Don't you go, little
Burney ! "

Last night, when we were talking of compli-
ments and of gross speeches, Mrs. Thrale most
justly said that nobody could make either like
Dr. Johnson. "Your compliments, sir, are made
seldom, but when they are made they have an
elegance unequalled ; but then when you are
angry, who dares make speeches so bitter and so
cruel ? "

Dr. J. — Madam, I am always sorry when I make
bitter speeches, and I never do it but when I am
insufferably vexed.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 129

Mrs. T. — Yes, sir ; but you suffer things to vex
you, that nobody else would vex at. I am sure I
have had my share of scolding from you !

Dr. J. — It is true, you have ; but you have
borne it like an angel, and you have been the
better for it.

Mrs. T. — That I believe, sir : for I have received
more instruction from you than from any man, or
any book : and the vanity that you should think
me worth instructing, always overcame the vanity
of being found fault with. And so you had the
scolding, and I the improvement.

F. B. — And I am sure both make for the honour
of both.

Dr. J. — I think so too. But Mrs. Thrale is a
sweet creature, and never angry ; she has a temper
the most delightful of any woman I ever knew.

Mrs. T. — This I can tell you, sir, and without
any flattery — I not only bear your reproofs when
present, but in almost everything I do in your
absence, I ask myself whether you would like it,
and what you would say to it. Yet I believe there
is nobody you dispute with oftener than me.

F. B. — But you two are so well established with
one another, that you can bear a rebuff that would
kill a stranger.

Dr. J. — Yes ; but we disputed the same before
we were so well established with one another.

Mrs. T. — Oh, sometimes I think 1 shall die no
other death than hearing the bitter things he says
to others. What he says to myself I can bear,
because I know how sincerely he is my friend, and
that he means to mend me ; but to others it is
cruel.

Dr. J. — Why, madam, you often provoke me to
say severe things, by unreasonable commendation.
If you would not call for my praise, I would not
give you my censure ; but it constantly moves my

VOL. I K

130 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

indignation to be applied to, to speak well of a
thing which I think contemptible.

F. B. — Well, this I know, whoever I may hear
complain of Dr. Johnson's severity, I shall always
vouch for his kindness, as far as regards myself, and
his indulgence.

Mrs. T. — Ay, but I hope he will trim you yet,
too!

Dr. J. — I hope not : I should be very sorry
to say anything that should vex my dear little
Burney.

F. B. — If you did, sir, it would vex me more
than you can imagine. I should sink in a minute.

Mrs. T. — I remember, sir, when we were travel-
ling in Wales, how you called me to account for
my civility to the people ; " Madam," you said, "let
me have no more of this idle commendation of
nothing. Why is it, that whatever you see, and
whoever you see, you are to be so indiscriminately
lavish of praise ? " " Why I'll tell you, sir," said I,
" when I am with you, and Mr. Thrale, and Queeny,
I am obliged to be civil for four ! "

There was a cutter for you ! But this I must
say, for the honour of both — Mrs. Thrale speaks to
Dr. Johnson with as much sincerity (though with
greater softness), as he does to her.

Well, now I have given so many fine compli-
ments from Dr. Johnson and Mrs Thrale, suppose,
by way of contrast and variety, I give a few of
Rose Fuller's. He called here on Saturday morn-
ing, with his little dog Sharp, who is his constant
companion. When the common salutations were
over, and everybody had said something to him
and his dog, he applied to me.

" Well, Miss Burney, and how do you do ?
Pray how do you like my little dog ? His name
is Sharp."

F. B.— Oh, very well !

1778 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 131

Mr. Fuller. — I am very glad to hear it ; I shall
pique myself upon Miss Burney's opinion, and
"that sort of thing"; I assure you I am quite
proud of it. I have got an Evelina of my own
now, Mrs. Thrale ; we shall break the bookseller,
for Dr. Calvert sent for it too. I am now in the
middle of the second volume : upon my word, Miss
Burney, "in that sort of way," 'tis amazing how
you've hit off characters ! Upon my word, I never
read anything higher ! I declare I never laughed
so in my life. And, give me leave to say, for " that
sort of thing," I think that Captain a very ingenious
sort of man ; upon my word he is quite smart in
some of his replies ; but he is too hard upon the
old Frenchwoman, too.1

[In the evening he came to tea, with Mr.
Stephen Fuller, his uncle, a sensible and gentle-
manlike-looking man, but who is dreadfully deaf.
Rose Fuller sat by me, and began again upon
Evelina ; indeed, now the ice is broken, I believe
he will talk of nothing else.

" Well, Miss Burney, I must tell you all the
secrets, now, in that sort of way. I put the first
volume into Mr. Stephen Fuller's hands ; but I did
not tell him, — don't be alarmed, I kept counsel ;
but upon my word, you never saw a man laugh so.
I could hardly get him to come, in that sort of
way ; he says he never saw characters so well hit
off, — true ! upon my word ! I was obliged to take
the book from him, " and that sort of thing," or
we should have been too late for dinner. But,
upon my word, 'tis amazing, everybody says, in
that sort of way.]

Streatham, September 26. — 1 have, from want
of time, neglected my journal so long, that I

1 This shows that even landsmen thought Captain Mirvan over-
drawn.

132 MARY AND LETTERS OF ws

cannot now pretend to go on methodically, and be
particular as to dates.

Messrs. Stephen and Rose Fuller stayed very
late on Monday ; the former talking very rationally
upon various subjects, and the latter boring us with
his systems and "those sort of things." Yet he is
something of a favourite, " in that sort of way," at
this house, because of his invincible good humour,
and Mrs. Thrale says she would not change him as
a neighbour for a much wiser man. Dr. Johnson
says he would make a very good Mr. Smith : "Let
him but," he adds, "pass a month or two in Holborn,
and I would desire no better."

The other evening the conversation fell upon
Romney,1 the painter, who has lately got into
great business, and who was first recommended
and patronised by Mr. Cumberland.

" See, madam," said Dr. Johnson, laughing,
"what it is to have the favour of a literary man !
I think I have had no hero a great while ; Dr.
Goldsmith was my last ; but I have had none
since his time till my little Burney came ! "

"Ay, sir," said Mrs. Thrale, "Miss Burney is
the heroine now ; is it not really true, sir ? "

" To be sure it is, my dear ! " answered he, with
a gravity that made not only me, but Mr. Thrale
laugh heartily.

Another time, Mr. Thrale said he had seen Dr.
Jebb, " and he told me he was afraid Miss Burney
would have gone into a consumption," said he ;
"but I informed him how well you are, and he
committed you to my care ; so I shall insist now
upon being sole judge of what wine you drink."

1 George Romney, 1734-1802, the "man in Cavendish Square," as
Reynolds called him. He had settled at No. 32 in 1775, and was now in
full practice and reputation. When, earlier, he had painted Cumber-
land's portrait, he was poorly housed in Great Newport Street. " I sate
to him," says Cumberland, " and was the first, who encouraged him to
advance his terms, by paying him ten guineas for his performance "
(Memoirs, 1807, ii. 213).

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 133

(N.B. — He had often disputed this point.)

Dr. J. — Why, did Dr. Jebb forbid her wine ?

F. B.— Yes, sir.

Dr. J. — Well, he was in the right ; he knows
how apt wits are to transgress that way. He was
certainly right !

In this sort of ridiculous manner he wits me
eternally. But the present chief sport with Mrs.
Thrale is disposing of me in the holy state of
matrimony, and she offers me whoever comes to
the house. This was begun by Mrs. Montagu,
who, it seems, proposed a match for me in my
absence, with Sir Joshua Reynolds ! — no less a
man, I assure you ! 1

When I was dressing for dinner, Mrs. Thrale
told me that Mr. Crutchley 2 was expected.

" Who's he ? " quoth I.

" A young man of very large fortune, who was a
ward of Mr. Thrale. Queeny, what do you say of
him for Miss Burney ? "

" Him ? " cried she ; " no, indeed ; what has Miss
Burney done to have him ? "

"Nay, believe me, a man of his fortune may
offer himself anywhere. However, I won't recom-
mend him."

" Why then, ma'am," cried I, with dignity, " I
reject him ! v

This Mr. Crutchley stayed till after breakfast
the next morning. I can't tell you anything of
him, because I neither like nor dislike him.

Mr. Crutchley was scarce gone, ere Mr. Smith
arrived. Mr. Smith is a second cousin of Mr.
Thr&le, and a modest pretty sort of young man.

He stayed till Friday morning. When he was
gone,

1 See post, under December 28, 1782.

2 Mr. Jerry Crutchley was supposed to be Thrale's natural son
{Autobiography, etc. of Mrs. Piozzi, 1861, i. 144, 155).

134 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ms

" What say you to him, Miss Burney ? " cried
Mrs. Thrale — " I am sure I offer you variety."

"Why, I like him better than Mr. Crutchley,
but I don't think I shall pine for either of them."

"Dr. Johnson," said Mrs. Thrale, "don't you
think Jerry Crutchley very much improved ? "

Dr. J. — Yes, madam, I think he is.

Mrs. T— Shall he have Miss Burney ?

Dr. J. — Why, I think not ; at least I must
know more of him ; I must inquire into his con-
nections, his recreations, his employments, and his
character, from his intimates, before I trust Miss
Burney with him. And he must come down very
handsomely with a settlement. I will not have him
left to his generosity ; for as he will marry her for
her wit, and she him for his fortune, he ought to
bid well ; and let him come down with what he
will, his price will never be equal to her worth.

Mrs. T. — She says she likes Mr. Smith better.

Dr. J. — Yes, but I won't have her like Mr.
Smith without the money, better than Mr.
Crutchley with it. Besides, if she has Crutchley,
he will use her well, to vindicate his choice. The
world, madam, has a reasonable claim upon all
mankind to account for their conduct ; therefore, if
with his great wealth he marries a woman who has
but little, he will be more attentive to display her
merit than if she was equally rich, — in order to
show that the woman he has chosen deserves from
the world all the respect and admiration it can
bestow, or that else she would not have been his
choice.

Mrs. T. — I believe young Smith is the better
man.

F. B. — Well, I won't be rash in thinking of
either ; I will take some time for consideration
before I fix.

Dr. J. — Why, I don't hold it to be delicate to

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 135

offer marriages to ladies, even in jest, nor do I
approve such sort of jocularity ; yet for once I
must break through the rules of decorum, and pro-
pose a match myself for Miss Burney. I therefore
nominate Sir J L .x

Mrs. T. — I'll give you my word, sir, you are not
the first to say that, for my master, the other
morning, when we were alone, said, " What would

I give that Sir J ■ L was married to Miss

Burney ; it might restore him to our family." So
spoke his uncle and guardian.

F. B.— He, he ! Ha, ha ! He, he ! Ha, ha !

Dr. J. — That was elegantly said of my master,
and nobly said, and not in the vulgar way we have
been saying it. And where, madam, will you find
another man in trade who will make such a speech
— who will be capable of making such a speech ?
Well, I am glad my master takes so to Miss
Burney ; I would have everybody take to Miss
Burney, so as they allow me to take to her most !

Yet I don t know whether Sir J L should

have her, neither. I should be afraid for her ; I
don't think I would hand her to him.

F. B. — Why, now, what a fine match is here
broken off!

Some time after, when we were in the library,
he asked me very gravely if I loved reading ?

" Yes," quoth I.

"Why do you doubt it, sir ?" cried Mrs. Thrale.

" Because," answered he, " I never see her with
a book in her hand. I have taken notice that she
never has been reading whenever I have come into
the room."

" Sir," quoth I courageously, " I am always
afraid of being caught reading, lest I should pass
for being studious or affected, and therefore instead
of making a display of books, I always try to hide

1 Sir John Lade, see ante, p. 72.

136 DIARY AND LETTERS OF nrs

them, as is the case at this very time, for I have
now your Life of Waller under my gloves behind
me. However, since I am piqued to it, I'll boldly
produce my voucher."

And so saying, I put the book on the table, and
opened it with a flourishing air. And then the
laugh was on my side, for he could not help making
a droll face ; and if he had known Kitty Cooke, I
would have called out, "There I had you, my lad!"1

" And now," quoth Mrs. Thrale, " you must be
more careful than ever of not being thought
bookish, for now you are known for a wit and a bel
esprit, you will be watched, and if you are not upon
your guard, all the misses will rise up against you."

Dr. J. — Nay, nay, now it is too late. You may
read as much as you will now, for you are in for it,
— you are dipped over head and ears in the
Castalian stream, and so I hope you will be invul-
nerable.

Another time, when we were talking of the
licentiousness of the newspapers, Dr. Johnson said,

" I wonder they have never yet had a touch at
little Burney."

" Oh, Heaven forbid ! " cried I : "I am sure if
they did, I believe I should try the depth of Mr.
Thrale's spring-pond." 2

" No, no, my dear, no," cried he kindly, " you
must resolve not to mind them ; you must set
yourself against them, and not let any such
nonsense affect you."

"There is nobody," said Mrs. Thrale, "tempers
the satirist with so much meekness as Miss
Burney."

Satirist, indeed ! is it not a satire upon words, to
call me so ?

1 See Editor's Introduction, p. 11.

J The spring-pond had been dug by Thrale at Streatham Place. In
imitation, probably of Duck Island in St. James's Park, it had its "Dick's
Island."

1778 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 137

" I hope to Heaven I shall never be tried,"
cried I, "for I am sure I should never bear it. Of
my book they may say what they will and welcome,
but if they touch at me I shall be "

"Nay," said Mrs. Thrale, "if you are not afraid
for the book, I am sure they can say no harm of
the author."

"Never let them know," said Dr. Johnson,
" which way you shall most mind them, and then
they will stick to the book ; but you must never
acknowledge how tender you are for the author."

Mr. Cuisp to Miss F. Buhney

November 6, 1778.

My dear Fannikin — Since peace is proclaimed,
and I am got out of my hobble, I am content, and
shall never lose a thought more in considering how
I got into it. My object now is to reap the fruits
of the accommodation ; of which the principal article
is to be, an open trade and renewal of commerce
and confidence, together with a strict observance of
former treaties, by which no new alliances are to be
formed to the prejudice of the old family compact.
These preliminaries being acceded to, nothing now
remains but to sing Te Z)eu??i9 and play off the
fireworks.

I do entirely acquit you of all wish or design of
being known to the world as an author. I believe
it is ever the case with writers of real merit and
genius, on the appearance of their first productions :
as their powers are finer and keener than other
people's, so is their sensibility. On these occasions
they are as nervous as Lady Louisa in Evelina,
But surely these painful feelings ought to go off
when the salts of general applause are continually
held under their nose. It is then time to follow

138 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

your friend Dr. Johnson's advice, and learn to be a
swaggerer, at least so far as to be able to face the
world, and not be ashamed of the distinction you
have fairly earned, especially when it is apparent
you do not court it.

I now proceed to assume the daddy, and con-
sequently the privilege of giving counsel. Your
kind and judicious friends are certainly in the
right in wishing you to make your talents turn to
something more solid than empty praise. When
you come to know the world half so well as I do,
and what yahoos mankind are, you will then be
convinced that a state of independence is the only
basis on which to rest your future ease and comfort.
You are now young, lively, gay. You please, and
the world smiles upon you — this is your time.
Years and wrinkles in their due season (perhaps
attended with want of health and spirits) will
succeed. You will then be no longer the same
Fanny of 1778, feasted, caressed, admired, with
all the soothing circumstances of your present
situation. The Thrales, the Johnsons, the Sewards,
Cholmondeleys, etc., etc., who are now so high in
fashion, and might be such powerful protectors as
almost to insure success to anything that is toler-
able, may then themselves be moved off the stage.
I will no longer dwell on so disagreeable a change
of the scene ; let me only earnestly urge you to
act vigorously (what I really believe is in your
power) a distinguished part in the present one —
"now while it is yet day, and before the night
cometh, when no man can work."

I must again and again repeat my former
admonitions regarding your posture in reading and
writing ; it is of infinite consequence, especially
to such lungs, and such a frame as yours.1

1 "Daddy" Crisp had already warned her against her "murtherous
stooping" {Early Diary, 1889, i. bcxxiii.).

1778 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 139

Lastly, if you do resolve to undertake anything
of the nature your friends recommend, keep it (if
possible) an impenetrable secret that you are even
about such a work. Let it be all your own till it
is finished entirely in your own way ; it will be
time enough then to consult such friends as you
think capable of judging and advising. If you
suffer any one to interfere till then, 'tis ten to one
'tis the worse for it — it won't be all of a piece. In
these cases generally the more cooks the worse
broth, and I have more than once observed those
pieces that have stole privately into the world,
without midwives, or godfathers and godmothers,
like your own, and the Tale of a Tub, and a few
others, have far exceeded any that followed.

Your loving daddy,
S. C.

Diary resumed

Saturday evening Mr. and Mrs. Thrale took me
quite round the paddock, and showed me their hot-
houses, kitchen-gardens, etc. Their size and their
contents are astonishing : but we have not once
missed a pineapple since I came, and therefore
you may imagine their abundance ; besides grapes,
melons, peaches, nectarines, and ices.

[Sunday we went to Streatham Church, and

afterwards to visit the family of the P s,1 who

now live in B House, which is about half a

mile off. The papa I did not see ; the mamma
is a civil, simple woman, and the daughters are
pretty, well-dressed, trifling, and furiously extra-
vagant.]

While Mrs. Thrale and I were dressing, and, as
usual, confabbing, a chaise drove into the park,
and word was brought that Mr. Seward was
arrived.

1 Query, Pitches.

140 DIARY AND LETTERS OF m%

"You don't know much of Mr. Seward, Miss
Burney ? " said Mrs. Thrale.

I could have told her I wished he had not
known much of me ; but her maid was in my way,
and I only said, " No."

" But I hope you will know more of him," said
she, "for I want you to take to him. He is a
charming young man, though not without oddities.
Few people do him justice, because, as Dr. John-
son calls him, he is an abrupt young man ; but he
has excellent qualities, and an excellent under-
standing. He has the misfortune to be an hypo-
chondriac, so he runs about the world to borrow
spirits, and to forget himself. But after all, if his
disorders are merely imaginary, the imagination is
disorder sufficient, and therefore I am sorry for
him."

The day passed very agreeably, but I have no
time for particulars. I fight very shy with Mr.
Seward, and as he has a great share of sense and
penetration, and not a little one of pride and
reserve, he takes the hint ; and I believe he would
as soon bite off his own nose as mention Evelina
again. And, indeed, now that the propriety of his
after-conduct has softened me in his favour, I begin
to think of him much in the same way Mrs. Thrale
does, for he is very sensible, very intelligent, and
very well bred.

Monday was the day for our great party ; and
the doctor came home, at Mrs. Thrale's request, to
meet them.

The party consisted of Mr. C , who was

formerly a timber-merchant, but having amassed
a fortune of one million of pounds, he has left off
business. He is a good-natured, busy sort of man.

Mrs. C , his lady, a sort of Mrs. Nobody.

Mr. N , another rich business leaver-off.

Mrs. N , his lady ; a pretty sort of woman,

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA ' 141

who was formerly a pupil of Dr. Hawkesworth.1
I had a great deal of talk with her about him,
and about my favourite Miss Kinnaird,2 whom she
knew very well.

Mr. George and Mr. Thomas N , her sons-
in-law.

Mr. B, , of whom I know nothing but that

he married into Mr. Thrale's family.

Lady Ladd ; I ought to have begun with her.
I beg her ladyship a thousand pardons — though if
she knew my offence, I am sure I should not
obtain one. She is own sister to Mr. Thrale.
She is a tall and stout woman, has an air of
mingled dignity and haughtiness, both of which
wear off in conversation. She dresses very
youthful and gaily, and attends to her person
with no little complacency. She appears to me
uncultivated in knowledge, though an adept in the
manners of the world, and all that. She chooses
to be much more lively than her brother ; but
liveliness sits as awkwardly upon her as her pink
ribbons. In talking her over with Mrs. Thrale,
who has a very proper regard for her, but who, I
am sure, cannot be blind to her faults, she gave
me another proof to those I have already had, of
the uncontrolled freedom of speech which Dr.
Johnson exercises to everybody, and which every-
body receives quietly from him. Lady Ladd has
been very handsome, but is now, I think, quite
ugly — at least she has a sort of face I like not.
Well, she was a little while ago dressed in so
showy a manner as to attract the doctor's notice,
and when he had looked at her some time, he
broke out aloud into this quotation :

1 John Hawkesworth, 1715-73, of the Adventurer and Cook's Voyages.
He is mentioned in Early Diary, 1889, i. 262-64, as a visitor at St. Martin's
Street.

2 Miss Margaret Kinnaird, d. 1800, daughter of the sixth Baron
Kinnaird, and married in 1779 to Mr. Thomas Wiggins.

142 DIARY AND LETTERS OF vm

With patches, paint, and jewels on,
Sure Phillis is not twenty-one !
Eut if at night you Phillis see,
The dame at least is forty-three !

I don't recollect the verses exactly, but such was
their purport.

" However," said Mrs. Thrale, " Lady Ladd
took it very good-naturedly, and only said,

" ' I know enough of that forty -three — I don't
desire to hear any more of it ! ' "

Miss Moss, a pretty girl, who played and sung,
to the great fatigue of Mrs. Thrale ; Mr. Rose
Fuller, Sir. Embry, Mr. Seward, Dr. Johnson, the
I three Thrales, and myself, close the party.

We had a sumptuous dinner of three courses,
and a most superb dessert. I shall give no account
of the day, because our common days are so much
more worth recounting.

[I had the honour of making tea for all this set,
and upon my word I was pretty well tired of it.
But since the first two days I have always made
tea, and now I am also the breakfast woman. I
am by no means fond of the task, but I am very
glad to do anything that is any sort of relief to
Mrs. T.]

In the evening the company divided pretty much
into parties, and almost everybody walked upon
the gravel- walk before the windows. I was going
to have joined some of them, when Dr. Johnson
stopped me, and asked how I did.

" I was afraid, sir," cried I, " you did not intend
to know me again, for you have not spoken to me
before since your return from town."

" My dear," cried he, taking both my hands,
" I was not sure of you, I am so near-sighted, and
I apprehended making some mistake."

Then drawing me very unexpectedly towards
him, he actually kissed me !

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 143

To be sure, I was a little surprised, having no
idea of such facetiousness from him. However, I
was glad nobody was in the room but Mrs. Thrale,
who stood close to us, and Mr. Embry, who was
lounging on a sofa at the farthest end of the room.
Mrs. Thrale laughed heartily, and said she hoped
I was contented with his amends for not knowing
me sooner.

A little after she said she would go and walk
with the rest, if she did not fear for my reputation
in being left with the doctor.

" However, as Mr. Embry is yonder, I think
he'll take some care of you," she added.

" Ay, madam," said the doctor, " we shall do
very well ; but I assure you I shan't part with
Miss Burney ! "

And he held me by both hands ; and when Mrs.
Thrale went, he drew me a chair himself facing the
window, close to his own ; and thus tete-a-tete we
continued almost all the evening. I say tete-a-tete,
because Mr. Embry kept at an humble distance,
and offered us no interruption. And though Mr.
Seward soon after came in, he also seated himself
in a distant corner, not presuming, he said, to break
in upon us ! Everybody, he added, gave way to
the doctor.

Our conversation chiefly was upon the Hebrides,
for he always talks to me of Scotland, out of sport ;
and he wished I had been of that tour — quite
gravely, I assure you !

Tuesday morning our breakfast was delightful.
We had Mr. Seward, Mr. Embry, and Lady Ladd
added to our usual party, and Dr. Johnson was
quite in a sportive humour. But I can only write
some few speeches, wanting time to be prolix, not
inclination.

"Sir," said Mrs. Thrale to Dr. Johnson, "why

144 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

did you not sooner leave your wine yesterday, and
come to us ? we had a Miss who sung and played
like anything ! "

" Ay, had you ? " said he drolly ; " and why did
you not call me to the rapturous entertainment ? "

" Why, I was afraid you would not have praised
her, for I sat thinking all the time myself whether
it were better to sing and play as she sang and
played, or to do nothing. And at first I thought
she had the best of it, for we were but stupid before
she began ; but afterwards she made it so long, that
I thought nothing had all the advantage. But, sir,
Lady Ladd has had the same misfortune you had,
for she has fallen down and hurt herself woefully."

" How did that happen, madam ? "

" Why, sir, the heel of her shoe caught in some-
thing."

" Heel ?" replied he; " nay, then, if her ladyship,
who walks six foot high " (N.B. this is a fact),
"will wear a high heel, I think she almost deserves
a fall."

" Nay, sir, my heel was not so high ! " cried
Lady Ladd.

" But, madam, why should you wear any ? That
for which there is no occasion, had always better
be dispensed with. However, a fall to your lady-
ship is nothing," continued he, laughing ; "you,
who are light and little, can soon recover ; but I
who am a gross man, might suffer severely : with
your ladyship the case is different, for

" Airy substance soon unites again." 1

Poor Lady Ladd, who is quite a strapper, made
no answer, but she was not offended. Mrs. Thrale
and I afterwards settled, that not knowing his allu-
sion from the Rape of the Lock, she only thought

1 Rape of the Lock, Canto iii. 152.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 145

he had made a stupid sort of speech, and did not
trouble herself to find a meaning to it.

" However," continued he, " if my fall does
confine me, I will make my confinement pleasant,
for Miss Burney shall nurse me — positively ! " (and
he slapped his hand on the table), " and then, she
shall sing to me, and soothe my cares."

When public news was started, Mr. Thrale
desired the subject might be waived till my father
came, and could let us know what part of the late
accounts were true.

Mr. Thrale then offered to carry Mr. Seward,
who was obliged to go to town, in the coach with
him, — and Mr. Embry also left us. But Dr.
Johnson sat with Mrs. Thrale, Lady Ladd, and
me for an hour or two.

The subject was given by Lady Ladd ; it was
the respect due from the lower class of the people.

" I know my place," said she, " and I always
take it : and I've no notion of not taking it. But
Mrs. Thrale lets all sort of people do just as they've
a mind by her."

" Ay," said Mrs. Thrale, " why should I torment
and worry myself about all the paltry marks of
respect that consist in bows and courtesies ? — I
have no idea of troubling myself about the manners
of all the people I mix with."

"No," said Lady Ladd, "so they will take all
sort of liberties with you. I remember, when you
were at my house, how the hair-dresser flung down
the comb as soon as you were dressed, and went
out of the room without making a bow."

" Well, all the better," said Mrs. Thrale ; " for
if he had made me one, ten thousand to one if I
had seen it. I was in as great haste to have done
with him, as he could be to have done with me.
I was glad enough to get him out of the room ; I
did not want him to stand bowing and cringing."

VOL. I L

146 DIARY AND LETTERS OF ws

" If any man had behaved so insolently to me,"
answered she, " I would never again have suffered
him in my house."

"Well," said Mrs. Thrale, "your ladyship has a
great deal more dignity than I have ! — Dr. Johnson,
we are talking of the respect due from inferiors ; —
and Lady Ladd is of the same side you are."

"Why, madam," said he, "subordination is
always necessary to the preservation of order and
decorum."

" I protest," said Lady Ladd, " I have no notion
of submitting to any kind of impertinence : and I
never will bear either to have any person nod to
me, or enter a room where I am, without bowing."

"But, madam," said Dr. Johnson, " what if they
will nod, and what if they won't bow ? — how then ? "

"Why, I always tell them of it," said she.

" Oh, commend me to that ! " cried Mrs. Thrale ;
" I'd sooner never see another bow in my life, than
turn dancing-master to hair-dressers."

The doctor laughed his approbation, but said
that every man had a right to a certain degree of
respect, and no man liked to be defrauded of that
right.

" Well, sir," said Mrs. Thrale, " I hope you meet
with respect enough ! "

" Yes, madam," answered he, " I am very well
contented."

" Nay, if you an't, I don't know who should be ;
for I believe there is no man in the world so greatly
respected."

Soon after he went, I went and shut myself up
in a sweet cool summer-house,1 to read Irene : —
which, indeed, though not a good play, is a beauti-
ful poem.

As my dear father spent the rest of the day here,

1 This was the summer-house where Johnson read and worked and
made pious resolutions (Hill's Boswell, 1887, iv. 134).

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 147

I will not further particularise, but leave accounts
to his better communication. He probably told

you that the P family came in to tea ; and, as

he knows Mrs. P , pray tell him what Dr.

Johnson says of her. When they were gone Mrs.
Thrale complained that she was quite worn out
with that tiresome silly woman, who had talked of
her family and affairs till she was sick to death of
hearing her.

" Madam," said he, " why do you blame the
woman for the only sensible thing she could do —
talking of her family and her affairs ? For how
should a woman who is as empty as a drum, talk
upon any other subject ? — If you speak to her of
the sun, she does not know it rises in the east ; —
if you speak to her of the moon, she does not know
it changes at the full ; — if you speak to her of the
queen, she does not know she is the king's wife ; —
how, then, can you blame her for talking of her
family and affairs ? "

Yesterday morning, to my great regret, Dr.
Johnson went to town, but we expect him again
to-day. Lady Ladd also went yesterday.

When they were gone, I had such a conversation
with Mrs. Thrale ! We were alone in the library
for, I believe, three hours, and though I shall only
give you two or three of the principal speeches, I
am sure you will not wonder that the extraordinary
good opinion she professes of me should have quite
overpowered me with gratitude and surprise.

Our tete-a-tete began by comparing notes about
Irene, and picking out favourite passages, and
agreeing that though the language and sentiments
are equally noble, there was not any reason to
wonder that the play altogether had no success on
the stage. Thence we talked over all the plays we
could recollect, and discussed their several merits

148 DIARY AND LETTERS OF im

according to our particular notions, and when we
had mentioned a great number, approving some for
this thing, and disliking others for that, Mrs. Thrale
suddenly said,

" Now, Miss Burney, if you would write a play,
I have a notion it would hit my taste in all things ;
do — you must write one ; a play will be something
worth your time — it is the road both to honour and
profit ; and why should you have it in your power
to gain both, and not do it ?

" I declare," continued she, " I mean, and think
what I say, with all my heart and soul ! You seem
to me to have the right and true talents for writing
a comedy ; you would give us all the fun and
humour we could wish, and you would give us a
scene or two of the pathetic kind that would set
all the rest off. If you would but try, I am sure
you would succeed, and give us such a play as
would be an honour to all your family. And, in
the grave parts, all your sentiments would be edify-
ing, and such as would do good, — and I am sure
that would be real pleasure to you."

I recollect her words as exactly as my memory
will allow.

"Hannah More," added she, "got nearly four
hundred pounds for her foolish play,1 and if you did
not write a better than hers, I say you deserve to
be whipped ! — Your father, I know, thinks the
same ; but we will allow that he may be partial ;
but what can make me think it ? — and Dr. John-
son ; — he, of all men, would not say it if he did not
think it."

She then rejoiced I had published Evelina as I
did, without showing it to anybody ; " because you
have proved what are your own real resources," she
said, "and now you have nothing to do but to

1 Hannah More's tragedy of Percy was produced at Co vent Garden,
December 10, 1777.

1778 THE AUTHOR OF ' EVELINA' 149

write a play. Dr. Johnson, I am sure, will be at
your service in anything in his power ; we'll make
him write your prologue ; — we'll make him carry
your play to the managers ; we'll do anything for
you ; — and so, I am sure, he readily will. As to
plot, situation, and character, nobody shall assist
you in them, for nobody can ! "

I will write no more, as these heads will give a
notion of all the rest.

From Mr. Crisp to Miss F. Burney

Chessington, Dec. 8, 1778.

My dear Fannikin — Exclusive of the high
entertainment your Susannitical letter afforded me,
I was much delighted with it on another account,
and that a solid and substantial one : I mean,
because it informed me of those numerous and
powerful friends, your own genius and intrinsic
merit have raised you up. The prospect is now
fair before you — it cannot but be bright when shone
upon by such first-rate luminaries of wit and learn-
ing. Keep it in your eye ; and if you pursue your
path with resolution, not suffering yourself to be
checked by indolence or diffidence, and an over-
strained modesty, I daresay it will lead you on to
the temple of fame, and perhaps to that of fortune.

'Tis true, I have more than once, Fanny, whis-
pered in your ear a gentle caution — that you have
much to lose. Why is that ? — because much you
have gained. Now you have gone so far, and so
rapidly, you will not be allowed to slacken your
pace. This is so far from being meant as a dis-
couragement, that it is intended to animate you.
But it will explain what was in my head when
I threw out those (perhaps useless, perhaps too
officious) hints. I plainly foresaw (what has since

150 DIARY AND LETTERS OF im

happened) that, as your next step, you would be
urged, strongly urged, by your many friends and
admirers, to undertake a comedy. I think you
capable, highly capable of it ; but in the attempt
there are great difficulties in the way ; some more
particularly and individually in the way of a Fanny,
than of most people.

I will instantly name these, lest you should
misapprehend. I need not observe to you that
in most of our successful comedies there are
frequent lively freedoms (and waggeries that
cannot be called licentious, neither) that give a
strange animation and vigour to the style, and of
which if it were to be deprived it would lose
wonderfully of its salt and spirit. I mean such
freedoms as ladies of the strictest character would
make no scruple, openly, to laugh at, but at the
same time, especially if they were prudes (and
you know you are one), perhaps would shy at
being known to be the authors of. Some comic
characters would be deficient without strokes of
this kind ; in scenes where gay men of the world
are got together, they are natural and expected ;
and the business would be mighty apt to grow fade
without them.

Of late years (I can't tell why, unless from the
great purity of the age) some very fine-spun, all-
delicate, sentimental comedies * have been brought
forth on the English, and more particularly on the
French stage, which (in my coarse way of thinking,
at least) are such sick things, so void of blood and
spirits, that they may well be called Comedies
Larmoyantes ; — and I don't find that they have
been greatly relished by the public in general, any

1 These, which, notwithstanding the blow they had received from She
Stoops to Conquer in 1773, were still alive, are admirably described in Gold-
smith's essay in the Westminster Magazine, December 1772, vol. i. p. 4.
He calls them "a kind of mulish production, with all the defects of its
opposite parents [i.e. Comedy and Tragedy], and marked with sterility."

1778 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA ' 151

more than by my vulgar soul. Moral — sublime to
a degree —

We cannot blame, indeed, — but we may sleep ! 1

They put me in mind of a poor girl, a Miss
Peachy (a real, and in the end, a melancholy
story). She was a fine young woman, but thinking
herself too ruddy and blowzy, it was her custom
to bleed herself (an art she had learned on
purpose) three or four times, against the Rugby
races, in order to appear more dainty and lady-like
at the balls, etc. Poor thing ! — she lost her aim ;
for when she came she appeared like a ghost, and
at last became one : — her arm bled in the night,
and in the morning she was past recovery.

I am afraid these fine performances are not
pictures of real life and manners. I remember I
sat next to a Frenchman at the play at Milan,
who preferred the French theatre to the whole
world, and as much disliked the English. When
I asked his reason, he cried,

"Ma foi, il faut pousser des beaux sentiments ! "

Excuse these digressions : the sum total amounts
to this' — it appears to me extremely difficult,
throughout a whole spirited comedy, to steer
clear of those agreeable, frolicsome jeuoc d? esprit,
on the one hand, and languor and heaviness on
the other : — pray observe, I only say difficult — not
impracticable — at least to your dexterity ; and to
that I leave it.

I find myself forestalled by the intelligent Mrs.
Montagu in another observation I was going to
make, and which she very justly and judiciously
enforces by the instance she gives of Fielding,2

1 Pope's Essay on Criticism, 1711, 1. 242.
2 See ante, p. 126.

152 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1778

who, though so eminent in characters and descrip-
tions, did by no means succeed in comedy.

'Tis certain, different talents are requisite for the
two species of writing, though they are by no
means incompatible ; I fear, however, the labouring
oar lies on the comic author.

In these little entertaining elegant histories, the
writer has his full scope ; as large a range as he
pleases to hunt in — to pick, cull, select whatever
he likes : he takes his own time — he may be as
minute as he pleases, and the more minute the
better, provided that taste, a deep and penetrating
knowledge of human nature, and the world,
accompany that minuteness. When this is the
case, the very soul, and all its most secret
recesses and workings, are developed and laid as
open to the view, as the blood globules circulating
in a frog's foot, when seen through a microscope.
The exquisite touches such a work is capable of
(of which Evelina is, without flattery, a glaring
instance), are truly charming. But of these great
advantages, these resources, you are strangely
curtailed the moment you begin a comedy. There
everything passes in dialogue, — all goes on rapidly
— narrative and descriptive, if not extremely short,
become intolerable. The detail, which in Fielding,
Marivaux, and Crebillon, is so delightful, on the
stage would bear down all patience. There
all must be compressed into quintessence ; the
moment the scene ceases to move on briskly, and
business seems to hang, sighs and groans are the
consequence. Dreadful sound ! — In a word, if the
plot, the story of the comedy does not open and
unfold itself in the easy, natural, unconstrained
flow of the dialogue — if that dialogue does not
go on with spirit, wit, variety, fun, humour,
repartee, and — and, all in short into the bargain
— serviteur ! — good-bye, t'ye !

1778 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 153

One more : now, Fanny, don't imagine that I
am discouraging you from the attempt : or that I
am retracting or shirking back from what I have
said above — i.e. that I think you highly capable
of it. On the contrary, I reaffirm it : I affirm
that in common conversation I observe in you a
ready choice of words, with a quickness and
conciseness that have often surprised me. This
is a lucky gift for a comic writer, and not a very
common one : so that if you have not the united
talents I demand, I don't know who has : for if
you have your familiar, your sprite, for ever thus
at your elbow without calling for, surely it will
not desert you, when in deep conjuration raising
your genius in your closet.

God bless you, Adieu, — Your loving daddy —

S. C.

PART IV

1779

Diary resumed — Pacchierotti — Description of his singing —
Bertoni — Giardini — Piozzi — An adventure — Dr. Francklin —
Letters from Mrs. Thrale and Mr. Crisp — Remonstrance on
false delicacy — Difficulties of dramatic writing — Dancing in
fetters — How to use advice — Miss Burney's views on
comedy — Female authorship — Letter from Miss Burney to
Mr. Crisp — The pains of publicity — Diary resumed — Sir
Joshua Reynolds — Mason, the poet — Visit from Dr. Johnson
— Mrs. Thrale — Visit to Sir Joshua Reynolds — Mrs.
Horneck and Mrs. Bunbury — Lord Palmerston — Mrs.
Cholmondeley — A scene — Cross-examination — A dialogue —
The knight of Plympton — Visit to Streatham — Dr. Johnson
— Mr. Seward — Dr. Burney — Fair and brown — A dialogue
with Dr. Johnson — Books and authors — Table-talk between
Johnson, Mrs. Thrale, and Miss Burney — Evelina — Mrs.
Montagu — Three classes of critics on books — Miss Burney's
anxiety to avoid notice as an author — Mrs. Cholmondeley
— Lord Palmerston — Visit to Dr. Johnson — Mr. Seward —
Lady Miller's vase — Baretti — Visit to Mrs. Cholmondeley —
A party of wits and fashionables — The beautiful Mrs.
Sheridan — Mrs. Crewe — Pacchierotti' s singing — The Duke
of Dorset and Miss Cumberland — Hannah More — Her habit
of nattering her friends — The Earl of Harcourt — Mrs. Vesey
— R. B. Sheridan — His personal appearance and manner —
Dr. Joseph Warton — Sheridan's opinion of Evelina — The
Sylph — Dialogue between Sheridan, Miss Burney, Sir Joshua
Reynolds, and Mrs. Cholmondeley — Miss Burney urged by
Sheridan to write a comedy.

Diary resumed

St Martins Street, January 1779. — How will
you bear, my dearest Susan, to hear about

154

S^.cfc

CJcurvLtesL JafuiM)n
after zKeynold^ .

1779

DIARY AND LETTERS 155

Pac 1 — may I finish the name ? I am almost afraid
— yet think it is a miserable compliment to treat
you as a baby, and hide from you the playthings
you must not have in your own hand. So I will
only remind you of similar situations in which I
have been ; and, at the same time, reminding
myself of your conduct upon those occasions —
the upshot of all which will be a true account of
the transaction.

Well, last Saturday morning, "mine fader"
sent a present of his History2 to Pacchierotti, by
way of an incentive to the study of the English
language. At the opera at night, he promised to
call here on Sunday. And so on Sunday morning
he came, attended by Signor Bertoni.3

Well, but he did not sing — so far be easy.

I like him of all things : he is perfectly modest,
humble, well-bred, and unassuming. He has a
very anxious desire to learn English, which he has
studied grammatically, and with much application
and diligence abroad : and he promised to come
hither frequently to take lessons of conversation.
By way of beginning with vigour, he settled to
drink tea here the next day.

They came early, and I am more pleased with
Pacchierotti than ever : he seems to be perfectly
amiable, gentle, and good : his countenance is
extremely benevolent, and his manners infinitely
interesting. We are all become very good friends,
and talked English, French, and Italian, by com-
modious starts, just as phrases occurred — an
excellent device for appearing a good linguist.

He had a very bad cold, yet sung with the
utmost good humour, as soon as asked. Bertoni

1 Gasparo Pacchierotti, 1744-1821, a celebrated singer. He had just
come to London with Bertoni.

2 The History of Music, vol. i. of which had been issued in 1776.

3 Ferdinando Giuseppe Bertoni, 1727-1810, a composer. He brought
out " Quinto Fabio," in which Pacchierotti took Fabio.

156 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

accompanied him. He first sang a rondeau of
"Artaserse," of Bertoni's. It is a very fine one,
and had it been a very execrable one, he would
have made it exquisite : such taste, expression,
freedom, fancy, and variety, never were before
joined, but in Agujari.1 His voice, however, was
by no means clear, though extremely touching :
but his cold quite tormented him. He afterwards
sung a song for a tenor in the same opera, and
admirably ; then some accompanied recitative to a
song in the "Orfeo" of Bertoni,2 and lastly, the
" Che faro senza JEuridice."

He and I were very sociable : and he said, in
English,

" Miss Borni give me very much encourage ;
but is very troublesome the difficulties."

Bertoni is very much that common sort of
character that admits no delineation.

Piozzi, by invitation, came in the evening : he
did not sing, but was very good-humoured.3

Giardini — not by invitation — came also.4 We
did not, just then, wish for him, but he was very
comique.

[I have seen but four folks worth mentioning,
these Italians excepted, since you went.

The first and second were, Mr. Magellan and
Mr. Humphreys, who both drank tea on Monday
se night last.

Mr. Magellan was just a V ordinaire, Mr.
Humphreys was almost insufferable, from curiosity
about the book-writer. He said not a word, but

1 Lucrezia Agujari, otherwise La Bastardina or Bastardella, 1743-83,
a celebrated singer, who had recently visited London. According to
Grove's Dictionary of Music she was the highest and most extended soprano
on record. Her Voice reached " from the middle of the harpsichord to
two notes above it," says Fanny {Early Diary, 1889, ii. 82).

2 Bertoni wrote an " Orfeo " in 1776 to the same libretto as Gluck's.

3 Gabriele Piozzi, d. 1809, afterwards the second husband of Mrs.
Thrale.

4 Felice de Giardini, 1716-96, violinist. From 1774 to 1780 he was
leader of the Pantheon concerts.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 157

he looked all meaning, and actually stared me so
much out of countenance, that I was obliged to
contrive myself a seat out of his way. He seemed
as if he thought to read in my face at least half the
characters he had read in the book ; which half,
whether the vulgar or the genteel part of the
family, I cannot pretend to say, but I was not
afflicted when he went.]

On Thursday, I had another adventure, and one
that has made me grin ever since. A gentleman
inquiring for my father, was asked into the parlour.
The then inhabitants were only my mother and me.
In entered a square old gentleman, well-wigged,
formal, grave, and important. He seated himself.
My mother asked if he had any message for my
father ?

" No, none."

Then he regarded me with a certain dry kind
of attention for some time ; after which, turning
suddenly to my mother, he demanded,

" Pray, ma'am, is this your daughter ? "

"Yes, sir."

" Oh ! this is Evelina, is it ? "

" No, sir," cried I, staring at him, and glad none
of you were in the way to say Yes.

" No ? " repeated he, incredulous ; " is not your
name Evelina, ma'am ? "

" Dear, no, sir," again quoth I, staring harder.

" Ma'am," cried he drily, " I beg your pardon !
I had understood your name was Evelina."

And soon after, he went away.

When he put down his card, who should it
prove but Dr. Francklin ! l " Was it not queer ? "

1 Thomas Francklin, D.D., 1721-84, Chaplain and Professor of Ancient
History to the Royal Academy. In 1T80 he had published a three-
volume translation of Lucian, dedicated to Johnson.

158 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

From Mrs. Thrale to Miss Burney

Streatham.

Instead of writing monitory letters to Dick,1 I
find I must now be a little serious with the great
" Evelina." Why will you, my lovely friend, give
consequence to trifles, by thus putting your peace
in their power? Is not the world full of severe
misfortunes and real calamities ? and will you fret
and look pale about such nonsense as this ? Let
me see you on Thursday next, if but for an hour,
and let me see you cheerful, I insist. Your
looking dismal can only advertise the paltry
pamphlet,2 which I firmly believe no one out of
your own family has seen, and which is now only
lying like a dead kitten on the surface of a dirty
horse-pond, incapable of scratching any one who
does not take pains to dirty their fingers for it.

But it has proclaimed you authoress of Evelina !
And is that an injury ? Surely you are not yet
to learn how highly that little sweet book has been
praised, admired, and esteemed by people whose
good word should at least weigh with you against
such a wretch as I hear this is, who has mentioned
your name irreverently — for I do not perceive he
has done anything else at last.

And so, as Mowbray the brutal says of Love-
lace the gay, " We comforted and advised him." 3

When will Miss Susan come home, that I may
have you here to brace your fibres, and enable you
to endure these direful misfortunes ? But I see

1 Richard Thomas Burney, Dr. Burney's son by his second wife. He
went into the Indian Civil Service.

2 This was a satire entitled Warley, by the Rev. George Huddesford,
1749-1809, in which, to the sensitive Fanny's "infinite frettation" she
had been spoken of as " dear little Burney." " Will it gain approbation
from ' dear little Burney ' " — the writer had said.

3 Clarissa. 1748, vii. 215.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 159

you saying, "Why this is Mrs. Selwyn,1 without
her wit."

Very well, madam ; don't you be Lady Louisa,
then, without her quality.

Give my best love and kindest compliments to
your amiable household. You know if I love you,
and may be sure I pity your pain, but do not mean
to soothe it. This world is a rough road, and
those who mean to tread it many years must not
think of beginning their journey in buff soles.

What hurts me most is lest you should like me
the less for this letter. Yet I will be true to my
own sentiments and send it ; if you will think me
coarse and indelicate, I can't help it. You are
twenty odd years old, and I am passed thirty-six —
there's the true difference. I have lost seven
children, and been cheated out of two thousand
a year,2 and I cannot, indeed I cannot, sigh and
sorrow over pamphlets and paragraphs. Did you
never hear Johnson's story of the " Man with his
Paper and Packthread " ?

Mr. Pepys3 — my master in chancery, as your
papa calls him — says you should try at a tragedy.
He is in love with the character of Macartney, the
pistol scene, and the denouement with Sir John
Belmont.

Murphy is charmed with the comic part, and
thinks highly of the writer. Will these help to fill
the scale against our formidable adversary — Heaven
knows who — in the garret ?

1 A caustic character in Evelina.

2 Mrs. Thrale had twelve children in all, of whom only one was a boy,
Henry, who died in 1776. Of eleven girls, four survived, — Hester (Lady
Keith), Sophia (Mrs. Merrick Hoare), Susan, and Cecilia (Mrs. Mostyn).
The money losses referred to were owing to a certain Humphrey Jackson,
who had persuaded Thrale that beer could be produced without malt and
hops (Autobiography, etc. of Mrs. Piozzi, 2nd ed. 1861, ii., 25-27).

3 William Weller Pepys, 1740-1825, afterwards a baronet. He was
Master in Chancery from 1775 to his death. According to Walpole
he had "a nose longer than himself." He gave Blue-Stocking parties,
and was Prime Minister to Mrs. Montagu. His very interesting Corre-
spondence has recently been published by Miss Gaussen (1904).

160 DIARY AND LETTERS OF

1779

Adieu till Thursday, "my own dear little
Burney," and forgive the sauciness of a truly affec-
tionate and faithful friend, servant, etc.,

H. L. Thrale.

I can't stay till Thursday to hear if you forgive
me, nor will forgiveness do. You must not love
me less for all this — it would vex me more than
many a silly couplet, which you mind more than
your friends. Once more, adieu !

Miss F. Burney to Mr. Crisp

January 1779.

Your patience, my dear daddy, in being able to
mention my name without invectives, as you have
done in your letter to Hetty, forces me to write,
because it makes me eager to thank you for not
having taken offence at me. Indeed your last most
excellent letter ought to have had my acknow-
ledgments long since, but the fact is I received
it when I was most violently out of sorts, and
really had not spirits to answer it. I intended to
have kept from you the subject of my uneasiness,
because I know you will only scoff it, or, perhaps,
think it should rather have gratified than dispirited
me ; and in truth I have been so plentifully lectured
already upon my vexation, that I feel no gout for
further lashing and slashing ; and yet I will own to
you the subject, because I had rather of the two
you should think me a fool, than think I wanted
gratitude sufficient to thank you for the many
useful hints, the kind and excellent advice you
took the trouble to give me.

In short, not to spend my whole letter in enig-
matical preluding, just as I received your letter I
had had information that my name had got into

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 161

print, and what was yet worse, was printed in a
new pamphlet.

I cannot tell you, and if I could you would
perhaps not believe me, how greatly I was shocked,
mortified, grieved, and confounded at this intelli-
gence : I had always dreaded as a real evil my
name's getting into print — but to be lugged into a
pamphlet !

I must, however, now I have gone so far, tell
you how it is, lest you should imagine matters
worse. This vile pamphlet is called Warley : a
Satire ; it is addressed to the first artist in Europe,
who proves to be Sir Joshua Reynolds. Probably
it is to his unbounded partiality for Evelina that I
owe this most disagreeable compliment, for he had
been so eager to discover the author, that by what
I had reason given me to conjecture, I fancy he
has been not a little laughed at since the discovery,
for divers coviique sort of speeches which he had
made while in the dark.

So now the murder's out ! but, dear daddy, don't
belabour me for my weakness, though I confess I
was for more than a week unable to eat, drink, or
sleep, for vehemence of vexation. I am now got
tolerably stout again, but I have been furiously
lectured for my folly (as I see everybody thinks
it) by all who have known of it. I have, there-
fore, struggled against it with all my might, and
am determined to aim at least at acquiring more
strength of mind.

Yet, after all, I feel very forcibly that I am not
— that 1 have not been — and that I never shall be
formed or fitted for any business with the public.
Yet now my best friends, and my father at their
head, absolutely prohibit a retreat ; otherwise I
should be strongly tempted to empty the whole
contents of my bureau into the fire, and to vow
never again to fill it. But, had my name never

VOL. I M

162 DIAKY AND LETTERS OF 1779

got abroad with my book, ere this I question not
I should again have tried how the world stood
affected to me.

Now once again to your letter.
Why, my dear daddy, will you use so vile, so
ill-applied a word as " officious " when you are giving
me advice ? Is it not of all favours the most valu-
able you can confer on me ? and don't I know that
if you had not somewhat of a sneaking kindness
for me you would as soon bite off your own nose,
as the Irishman says, as take so much trouble about
me ? I do most earnestly, seriously, and solemnly
entreat that you will continue to me this first,
best, greatest proof of regard, and I do, with the
utmost truth and gratitude, assure you that it is
more really flattering to me than all the flummery
in the world. I only wish, with all my heart, you
would be more liberal of it.

Every word you have urged concerning the salt
and spirit of gay, unrestrained freedom in comedies,
carries conviction along with it, — a conviction which
I feel, in trembling ; should I ever venture in that
walk publicly, perhaps the want of it might prove
fatal to me. I do, indeed, think it most likely that
such would be the event, and my poor piece, though
it might escape catcalls and riots, would be fairly
slept off the stage. I cannot, however, attempt to
avoid this danger, though I see it, for I would a
thousand times rather forfeit my character as a
writer, than risk ridicule or censure as a female.
I have never set my heart on fame, and therefore
would not, if I could, purchase it at the expense of
all my own ideas of propriety. You who know
me for a prude will not be surprised, and I hope
not offended, at this avowal, for I should deceive
you were I not to make it. If I should try, I must
e'en take my chance, and all my own expectations
may be pretty easily answered.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF EVELINA' 163

The Streathamites have been all reassembled
for these six weeks, and I have had invitation upon
invitation to join them, or, in Mrs. Thrale's words,
to go home. But Susan is at Howletts,1 and I can
by no means leave town till her return. However,
we correspond, and Mrs. Thrale's kindness for me
promises to be as steady as it is flattering and
delightful to me ; but I never knew how much in
earnest and in sincerity she was my friend till she
heard of my infinite frettation upon occasion of
being pamphleted ; and then she took the trouble
to write me a long scolding letter ; and Dr. John-
son himself came to talk to me about it, and to
reason with me ; and now I see that they have
sufficient regard to find fault with me, I do in-
deed hope that I am well with them. — Yours
affectionately, F. B.

From Mr. Crisp to Miss F. Burney

Chessington, January 1779.

I long of all things, Fannikin, to see JVarley,
and the continuation of your Journal (for I have
copied and will faithfully return by the first oppor-
tunity your last). If you answer me, you have not
continued it, you are unpardonable, and I advise
you to set about it immediately, as well as you can,
while any traces of it rest in your memory. It
will one day be the delight of your old age — it will
call back your youth, your spirits, your pleasures,
your friends, whom you formerly loved, and who
loved you (at that time, also, probably, long gone
off the stage), and lastly, when your own scene is
closed, remain a valuable treasure to those that
come after you. But I will not suppose you
have not continued it — you can't be so wanting to

1 In Kent, the seat of Lady Hales, formerly Coussmaker.

164 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

yourself. This is what I require — the whole in all
its details — not bits and scraps of three characters
at a time, as you talk of — that won't satisfy my
maw.

As to your vexation, child, I don't mind it of a
pin. Framed as you are, I knew that must come
first before you could be easy. People that are
destined to live in the midst of the world, must and
ought to be inoculated before they can go about in
safety. You talk of being slipped off the stage —
would you wish your book to die such a death ?
There is no alternative ; if it lives, its fate and
yours are inseparable, and the names of Evelina
and Burney must and will go together : so that
your discontent at what has happened, to me
seems strangely ill-founded ; and your fantastic
sickly stomach is to recoil forsooth, because you
cannot compass impossibilities !

Well, I have been ruminating a good deal on
the obstacles and difficulties I mentioned in my
last, that lie directly across your path (as a prude)
in the walk of comedy. On the most mature con-
sideration, I do by no means retract the general
principle that produced those observations ; I will
never allow you to sacrifice a grain of female
delicacy for all the wit of Congreve and Vanbrugh
put together — the purchase would be too dear ;
but thus much I will assert, and can prove by
several instances, viz., that light principles may be
displayed without light expressions ; and that is a
rock the female must take care to steer clear of —
vice must not talk unlike itself; but there is no
necessity it should show all its filth. A great
deal of management and dexterity will certainly
be requisite to preserve spirit and salt, and yet
keep up delicacy ; but it may be done, and you
can do it if anybody. Do you remember, about
a dozen years ago, how you used to dance Nancy

1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 165

Dawson 1 on the grass plot, with your cap on the
ground, and your long hair streaming down your
back, one shoe off, and throwing about your head
like a mad thing ? Now you are to dance Nancy
Dawson with fetters on ; there is the difference :
yet there is certainly a nameless grace and charm
in giving a loose to that wildness and friskiness
sometimes.

I am very glad you have secured Mrs. Montagu
for your friend ; her weight and interest are power-
ful ; but there is one particular I do not relish ;
though she means it as a mark of favour and
distinction ; — it is, where she says, " If Miss
Burney does write a play, I beg I may know of it,
and (if she thinks proper) see it."

Now Fanny, this same seeing it (in a professed
female wit, authoress, and Maecenas into the
bargain), I fear implies too much interference —
implies advising, correcting, altering, etc. etc. etc.;
not only so, but in so high a critic, the not submit-
ting to such grand authority, might possibly give
a secret, concealed, lurking offence. Now d'ye see,
as I told you once before, I would have the whole
be ail my own — all of a piece ; and to tell you the
truth, I would not give a pin for the advice of
the ablest friend who would not suffer me at last
to follow my own judgment without resentment.
Besides let me whisper in your ear the very words
Dr. Johnson made use of when Miss Streatfleld's
letter was mentioned, —

" She is " etc. etc. etc. ; " but my little B. writes
a better letter."

Adieu ! send me a vast journal to copy, con-
taining a full and true account of all the variety
of names you have given me a list of, and what
they have said of and to you. May I send to

1 See ante, p. 40. It may be added to that note, that there is a
portrait of Nancy Dawson in the Garrick Club.

166 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

Gast * my copy of your Journal, upon condition of
her letting nobody see it but Molly Lenthal ? 2
Shall we see you at Chessington this summer ? or
are you to be at home at Streatham the whole
season, and the old homely home quite forgotten ?
One more adieu ! your loving daddy, S. C.

Diary resumed

To be sure I have been most plentifully lectured
of late ; and to be sure I have been most plentifully
chagrined ; but there is but one voice, and that
goes against me. 1 must, therefore, give up the
subject, and endeavour to forget the ideas it raised
in me.

I will try, my dear Susy, to become somewhat
more like other folks, if, as it seems by their reason-
ing, I am now so different to them. All that I
can say for myself is, that I have always feared
discovery, always sought concealment, and always
known that no success could counter - balance
the publishing my name. However, what is
inevitable ought not to torment long, and after
such counsel as I have received, from almost all
my best friends, it becomes my duty to struggle
against my refractory feelings.

And now, my love, let me thank you for your
letter, and let me try to send you one that may
make some amends for my last.

I will recollect the most particular circumstances
that have happened, journal fashion, according to
the old plan.

This same pamphlet that has so much grieved
me, was brought home by my mother on Thursday.
But who says my name is not at full length ? I
wish to Heaven it were not !

1 See Editor's Introduction, p. 11.

2 Mrs. Lenthall of Burford, a descendant of Speaker Lenthall, and
friend of Mrs. Gast.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF EVELINA' 167

At night my father went to the Royal Academy
to hear Sir Joshua Reynolds discourse ; l and now
for a bouquet of uncommon fragrance. Mr. Mason 2
came up to my father, and wished him joy, and
said the finest things imaginable of the book, and
extolled the characters, and talked it all over.
You who respect and admire Mr. Mason as much
as I do, will be sure such praise was some cordial
to me. Mr. Humphreys 3 too joined his vote.
My father himself has seemed more pleased with
Mr. Mason's approbation than with anybody's since
the Streathamites'.

On Monday, to my great dissatisfaction, Mrs.
Reynolds came.4 I was woefully dumpish.

" Pray," said she, after some time, " how does
Miss Fanny do ? Oh no ! — not Miss Fanny — Miss
Sukey, I mean ! — this I think is Miss Fanny ? —
though your name, ma'am, is swallowed up in
another, — that of — of — of Miss Burney, — if not of
— of — of, dear, how odd in Dr. Franklin to ask if
that was not your name ? "

To be sure I stared, and asked where she had
her intelligence ? I found, from my father himself.

" Well," continued she, " what would not Mrs.
Horneck 5 and Mrs. Bunbury 6 give to see the writer
of that book ! Why, they say they would walk a
hundred and sixty miles only to see her, if that
would do ! "

"Why then," quoth I, "X would walk just as
far to avoid them ! "

1 The Eighth Discourse, December 10, 1778.

2 William Mason, 1724-97, the friend of Gray, and the author 'of
Elfrlda, 1752, and Caractacus, 1759. Dr. Burney had made his acquaint-
ance at Mrs. Cibber's in Scotland Yard.

3 Perhaps Ozias Humphry, the miniaturist, 1742-1810.

4 Frances Reynolds, Sir Joshua's sister. See ante, p. 60.

5 Mrs. Horneck was the widow of Captain Kane Horneck. She came,
like Sir Joshua, from Devonshire.

6 Mrs. Bunbury, 1754-99, was her daughter Catherine, Goldsmith's
" Little Comedy," who had been married since 1771 to H. W. Bunbury
of Barton, the caricaturist.

168 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

" Oh no ! don't say that ! I hope you will have
the goodness to consent to meet them ! But I
think I have made out how Dr. Franklin came to
say that odd thing. * Oh, ho,' thought he, ' am I
now in company with the writer of that celebrated
book ? Well, I must say something ! ' So then
he became so embarrassed, that in his confusion he
made the blunder.''

Now I think the only doubt is, which was most
infinitely absurd, the question or the comment ?

[The next morning the Misses Palmer called.
They were cold and formal, and full of reproaches
that I had been so unsociable ; however, by
degrees, their reserve wore off. They invited me
very pressingly for Saturday evening. I would
fain have been excused, for I more than ever
wished to avoid seeing Sir Joshua Reynolds, as I
could not but suppose he as well as myself must
think of this vile pamphlet upon our meeting, and
as I must owe to his extreme partiality to the book,
and talk of the writer, the line that mentions me.
However, they obviated all possible objections, and
disregarded all offered excuses. My father was to
be at the Opera — still I must come. My mother
was engaged by expecting Miss Young — still I was
not to be let off. If I were ill, they vowed they
would send a physician ; and, in short, I was
obliged to promise to wait on them ; though I said
I must hope at least to find them alone.

On Thursday, my dear father talked me over
quite seriously, about my vexation ; and, to be
brief, made me promise to think no more of it —
which though I could not literally perform, I have
done all that in me lay.]

On Friday, I had a visit from Dr. Johnson ! he
came on purpose to reason with me about this
pamphlet, which he had heard from my father had
so greatly disturbed me.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 169

Shall I not love him more than ever ? How-
ever, Miss Young l was just arrived, and Mr.
Bremner2 spent the evening here, and therefore he
had the delicacy and goodness to forbear coming
to the point. Yet he said several things that I
understood, though they were unintelligible to
all others ; and he was more kind, more good-
humoured, more flattering to me than ever. In-
deed, my uneasiness upon this subject has met
with more indulgence from him than from any-
body. He repeatedly charged me not to fret ;
and bid me not repine at my success, but think of
Floretta, in the Fairy Tale,3 who found sweetness
and consolation in her wit sufficient to counter-
balance her scoffers and libellers ! Indeed he was
all good humour and kindness, and seemed quite
bent on giving me comfort as well as flattery.

The next evening, just as I was dressed for my
formidable visit at Sir Joshua's, I received a letter
from Mrs. Thrale, the longest and most delightful
she has ever written me. It contains, indeed, warm
expostulations upon my uneasiness, and earnest
remonstrances that I would overcome it ; but that
she should think me worth the trouble of reproof,
and the danger of sincerity, flattered, soothed, and
cheered me inexpressibly ; and she speaks so affec-
tionately of her regard for me, that I feel more
convinced of it than ever.

By the way, it is settled that I am not to make
my visit to Streatham till your return to town ; our
dear father not choosing to have us both absent at
once. Nevertheless, Mrs. Thrale, whose invitations

1 Miss Dorothy Young, a Lynn lady, who had been a friend of the
first Mrs. Burney.

2 Robert Bremner, a music printer and publisher, d. 1789. He issued
Rudiments of Music in 1756.

3 The Fountains, contributed by Johnson himself to Miss Williams's
Miscellanies in Prose and Verse, 1766. The character of Floretta was
intended for Mrs. Thrale (Hayward's Autobiography, etc. of Mrs. Pioxzi
(Thrale), 1861, i. 55).

170 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

upon that plea are, with her usual good sense
and propriety, dropped, or rather deferred being
further pressed till your return, said in her charm-
ing letter that she must see me, if only for an hour,
and insisted that I should accompany my father on
his next lesson day. I could not persuade myself
to go out till I wrote an answer, which I did in the
fulness of my heart, and without form, ceremony,
or study of any kind.

Now to this grand visit : which was become
more tremendous than ever from the pamphlet
business, as I felt almost ashamed to see Sir
Joshua, and could not but conclude he would think
of it too.

[My mother, who changed her mind, went also.
My father promised to come before the Opera was
half over.]

We found the Miss Palmers alone. We were,
for near an hour, quite easy, chatty, and comfort-
able ; no pointed speech was made, and no starer
entered. [But when I asked the eldest Miss
Palmer if she would allow me to look at some of
her drawings, she said,

" Not unless you will let me see something of
yours."

" Of mine ? " quoth I. " Oh, I have nothing
to show."

" I am sure you have ; you must have."

" No, indeed ; I don't draw at all."

" Draw ? No, but I mean some of your
writing."

" Oh, I never write — except letters."

" Letters ? those are the very things I want
to see."

" Oh, not such as you mean."

" Oh now, don't say so ; I am sure you are about
something, and if you would but show me "

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA 171

" No, no, I am about nothing — I am quite out
of conceit with writing."

I had my thoughts full of the vile Warley.

" You are out of conceit ? " exclaimed she ; " nay
then, if you are, who should be otherwise ! "

Just then, Mrs. and Miss Horneck1 were
announced. You may suppose I thought directly
of the one hundred and sixty miles — and may take
it for granted I looked them very boldly in the
face ! Mrs. Horneck seated herself by my mother.
Miss Palmer introduced me to her and her daughter,
who seated herself next me ; but not one word
passed between us !

Mrs. Horneck, as I found in the course of
the evening, is an exceeding sensible, well-bred
woman. Her daughter is very beautiful ; but was
low-spirited and silent during the whole visit. She
was, indeed, very unhappy, as Miss Palmer in-
formed me, upon account of some ill news she had
lately heard of the affairs of a gentleman to whom
she is shortly to be married.

I have not a great many bons mots of my own to
record, as I think I seldom opened my mouth above
once in a quarter of an hour.

[Next came a Mr. Gwatkin,2 of whom I have
nothing to say, but that he was very talkative with
Miss Offy Palmer, and very silent with everybody
else ; and that, in their talk, which on his part was
all in a low voice, I more than once heard my own
name pronounced in a questioning tone. For this
I thanked him not.]

Not long after came a whole troop, consisting
of Mr. Cholmondeley ! 3 — O perilous name ! — Miss
Cholmondeley, and Miss Fanny Cholmondeley, his

1 Mary Horneck, 1754-1840, Goldsmith's " Jessamy Bride," afterwards
married to Colonel Edward Gwyn, Equerry to George III. Reynolds and
Hoppner both painted her.

2 Mr. R. L. Gwatkin, who afterwards married Offy Palmer.

3 The Hon. and Rev. Robert Cholmondeley.

172 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

daughters, and Miss Forrest. Mrs. Cholmondeley,
I found, was engaged elsewhere, but soon expected.

Now here was a trick of Sir Joshua, to make
me meet all these people !

Mr. Cholmondeley is a clergyman ; nothing
shining either in person or manners, but rather
somewhat grim in the first, and glum in the last.
Yet he appears to have humour himself, and to
enjoy it much in others.

Miss Cholmondeley I saw too little of to
mention.

Miss Fanny Cholmondeley is a rather pretty,
pale girl ; very young and inartificial, and though
tall and grown up, treated by her family as a child,
and seemingly well content to really think herself
such. She followed me whichever way I turned,
and though she was too modest to stare, never
ceased watching me the whole evening.

Miss Forrest is an immensely tall and not hand-
some young woman. Further I know not.

Next came my father, all gaiety and spirits.
Then Mr. William Burke.1

Soon after, Sir Joshua returned home. He paid
his compliments to everybody, and then brought a
chair next mine, and said,

" So, you were afraid to come among us ?"

I don't know if I wrote to you a speech to that
purpose, which I made to the Miss Palmers ? and
which, I suppose, they had repeated to him. He
went on, saying I might as well fear hobgoblins,
and that I had only to hold up my head to be above
them all.

After this address, his behaviour was exactly
what my wishes would have dictated to him, for
my own ease and quietness ; for he never once
even alluded to my book, but conversed rationally,

1 A kinsman of Edmund Burke, d. 1798. His character is drawn in
Goldsmith's Retaliation, ii. 43-50.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 173

gaily, and serenely : and so I became more comfort-
able than I had been ever since the first entrance
of company.

Our subject was chiefly Dr. Johnson's Lives of
the Poets ; we had both read the same, and there-
fore could discuss them with equal pleasure, and
we both were charmed with them, and therefore
could praise them with equal warmth ; and we both
love and reverence the writer, and therefore could
mix observations on the book and the author with
equal readiness.

By the way, I believe I did not mention that
Miss Palmer told me all the world gave me to
Dr. Johnson, for that he spoke of me as he spoke
of hardly anybody !

Our confab was interrupted by the entrance of
Mr. King ; a gentleman who is, it seems, for ever
with the Burkes ; and presently Lord Palmerston
was announced.1

[By a change of seats, I was now next to Mrs.
Horneck, who, after some general conversation
with me, said in a low voice,

" I suppose, Miss Burney, I must not speak of
Evelina to you ? "

" Why, indeed, ma'am," said I, " I would rather
you should speak of anything else."

" Well, I must only beg leave to say one thing,
which is, that my daughters had the credit of the
first introducing it into this set. Mrs. Bunbury
was the very first among us who read it ; she met
it, accidentally, at a bookseller's, and she could not
leave it behind her ; and when she had read it, she
sent it to me, and wrote me word she was sure I
should read it, and read it through, though it was
a novel ; for she knew novels were not favourites
with me ; and indeed, they are generally so bad,

1 Henry Temple, 1739-1802, second Viscount, and father of the
Victorian Premier. At this date he was M.P. for Hastings.

174 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

that they are not to be read. But I have seen
nothing like this since Fielding. But where, Miss
Burney, where can, or could you pick up such
characters ? where find such variety of incidents,
yet all so natural ? "

" Oh, ma'am, anybody might find who thought
them worth looking for."

Well, while this was going forward, a violent
rapping bespoke, I was sure, Mrs. Cholmondeley,1
and I ran from the stand ers, and turning my back
against the door, looked over Miss Palmer's cards ;
for you may well imagine, I was really in a tremor
at a meeting which so long has been in agitation,
and with the person who, of all persons, has been
most warm and enthusiastic for my book.

She had not, however, been in the room half an
instant, ere my father came up to me, and tapping
me on the shoulder, said, "Fanny, here's a lady
who wishes to speak to you."

I curtsied in silence, she too curtsied, and fixed
her eyes full on my face : and then tapping me
with her fan, she cried,

" Come, come, you must not look grave
upon me."

Upon this, I te - he'd ; she now looked at me
yet more earnestly, and, after an odd silence, said,
abruptly,

"But is it true?"

" What, ma'am ? "

" It can't be ! — tell me, though, is it true ?"

I could only simper.

" Why don't you tell me ? — but it can't be — I
don't believe it ! — no, you are an impostor ! "

Sir Joshua and Lord Palmerston were both at

1 See ante, p. 38. Mrs. Cholmondeley — it may be observed — had
been educated in France. Fanny describes her, in July 1780, as "gay,
flighty, entertaining, and frisky as ever."

1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 175

her side — oh, how notably silly must I look ! She
again repeated her question of " Is it true ? " and I
again affected not to understand her ; and then Sir
Joshua, taking hold of her arm, attempted to pull
her away, saying,

" Come, come, Mrs. Cholmondeley, I won't
have her overpowered here ! "

I love Sir Joshua much for this. But Mrs.
Cholmondeley, turning to him, said, with quickness
and vehemence,

" Why, I ain't going to kill her ! don't be afraid,
I shan't compliment her ! — I can't, indeed ! "

Then, taking my hand, she led me through them
all, to another part of the room, where again she
examined my phiz, and viewed and reviewed my
whole person.

" Now," said she, "do tell me ; is it true ? "

" What, ma'am ? — I don't — I don't know what

" Pho ! what, — why, you know what : in short,
can you read ? and can you write ? "

" N — o, ma'am ! "

" I thought so," cried she ; " I have suspected it
was a trick, some time, and now I am sure of it.
You are too young by half ! — it can't be ! "

I laughed, and would have got away, but she
would not let me.

" No," cried she, " one thing you must, at least,
tell me ; — are you very conceited ? Come, answer
me," continued she. " You won't ? Mrs. Burney,
Dr. Burney, — come here, — tell me if she is not very
conceited ? — if she is not eat up with conceit by
this time ? "

They were both pleased to answer " Not half
enough."

" Well," exclaimed she, " that is the most
wonderful part of all ! Why, that is yet more
extraordinary than writing the book ! "

176 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

I then got away from her, and again looked over
Miss Palmer's cards : but she was after me in a
minute.

"Pray, Miss Burney," cried she, aloud, "do you
know anything of this game ? "

"No, ma'am."

" No ? " repeated she ; " mafoi, that's pity ! "

This raised such a laugh, I was forced to move
on ; yet everybody seemed to be afraid to laugh,
too, and studying to be delicate, as if they had been
cautioned ; which, I have since found, was really
the case, and by Sir Joshua himself.

Again, however, she was at my side.

" What game do you like, Miss Burney ? " cried
she.

" I play at none, ma'am."

" No ? I wonder at that ! "

Did you ever know such a toad ? l Again I
moved on, and got behind Mr. W. Burke, who,
turning round to me, said,

" This is not very politic in us, Miss Burney, to
play at cards, and have you listen to our follies."

There's for you ! I am to pass for a censoress
now.

My frank will hold no more. Adieu, my dearest
Susan.

January 11.

Your repeated call, my dear Susan, makes me
once more attempt to finish my visit to Sir Joshua :
but I have very much forgotten where I left off;
therefore, if I am guilty of repetition or tautology,
you must not much marvel.

Mrs. Cholmondeley hunted me quite round the
card-table, from chair to chair, repeating various
speeches of Madame Duval ; and when, at last, I
got behind a sofa, out of her reach, she called out

1 See ante, p. 71.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 177

aloud, " Polly, Polly ! only think ! miss has danced
with a lord ! "

Some time after, contriving to again get near me,
she began flirting her fan, and exclaiming, "Well, miss,
I have had a beau, I assure you ! ay, and a very pretty
beau too, though I don't know if his lodgings were so
prettily furnished, and everything, as Mr. Smith's."

Then, applying to Mr. Cholmondeley, she said,
" Pray, sir, what is become of my lottery-ticket ? "

" I don't know," answered he.

I had now again made off, and, after much
rambling, I at last seated myself near the card-
table : but Mrs. Cholmondeley was after me in a
minute, and drew a chair next mine. I now found
it impossible to escape, and therefore forced myself
to sit still. Lord Palmerston and Sir Joshua, in a
few moments, seated themselves by us.

I must now write dialogue-fashion, to avoid the
enormous length of Mrs. C.'s name.

Mrs. Choi. — I have been very ill ; monstrous ill
indeed ; or else I should have been at your house
long ago. Sir Joshua, pray how do you do ? You
know, I suppose, that I don't come to see you ?

Sir Joshua could only laugh ; though this was
her first address to him.

Mrs. Choi. — Pray, miss, what's your name ?

F. B. — Frances, ma'am.

Mrs. Choi. — Fanny ! Well, all the Fannys are
excellent ! and yet, — my name is Mary ! Pray,
Miss Palmers, how are you ? — though I hardly
know if I shall speak to you to-night. I thought I
should never have got here ! I have been so out of
humour with the people for keeping me. If you
but knew, cried I, to whom I am going to-night,
and who I shall see to-night, you would not dare
keep me muzzing 1 here !

1 Stupidly loitering ? (Davies, Supplemental Glossary). Mrs. Cholmonde-
ley is given as the authority for this word.

VOL. I N

178 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

During all these pointed speeches, her pene-
trating eyes were fixed upon me ; and what could I
do ? — what, indeed, could anybody do, but colour
and simper ? — all the company watching us, though
all, very delicately, avoided joining the confab.

Mrs. Choi. — My Lord Palmerston, I was told
to-night that nobody could see your lordship for
me, for that you supped at my house every night ?
Dear, bless me, no ! cried I, not every night ! and
I looked as confused as I was able ; but I am afraid
I did not blush, though I tried hard for it !

Then, again, turning to me,

" That Mr. What-d'ye-call-him, in Fleet Street,
is a mighty silly fellow ; — perhaps you don't know
who I mean ? — one T. Lowndes, — but maybe you
don't know such a person ? "

F. B. — No, indeed, I do not ! — that I can safely
say.

Mrs. Choi. — I could get nothing from him : but
I told him I hoped he gave a good price ; and he
answered me, that he always did things genteel.

What trouble and tagging we had ! Mr. (I

cannot recollect the name she mentioned) laid a
wager the writer was a man : — I said I was sure it
was a woman : but now we are both out ; for it's a
girl !

In this comical, queer, flighty, whimsical manner
she ran on, till we were summoned to supper ; for
we were not allowed to break up before : and then,
when Sir Joshua and almost everybody was gone
downstairs, she changed her tone, and, with a face
and voice both grave, said,

" Well, Miss Burney, you must give me leave
to say one thing to you ; yet, perhaps you won't,
neither, will you ? "

" What is it, ma'am ? "

"Why, it is, that I admire you more than any
human being ! and that I can't help ! "

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 179

Then, suddenly rising, she hurried downstairs.

[While we were upon the stairs, I heard Miss
Palmer say to Miss Fanny Cholmondeley, " Well,
you don't find Miss Burney quite so tremendous a
person as you expected ? "

Sir Joshua made me sit next him at supper ;
Mr. William Burke was at my other side ; though
afterwards, I lost the Knight of Plimton, who, as
he eats no suppers, made way for Mr. Gwatkin,
and, as the table was crowded, stood at the fire
himself. He was extremely polite and flattering
in his manners towards me, and entirely avoided all
mention or hint at Evelina the whole evening :
indeed, I think I have met with more scrupulous
delicacy from Sir Joshua than from anybody,
although I have heard more of his approbation than
of almost any other person's.

Mr. W. Burke was immensely attentive at
table ; but, lest he should be thought a Mr.
Smith for his pains, he took care, whoever he
helped, to add, " You know I am all for the
ladies ! "]

I was glad I was not next Mrs. Cholmondeley ;
but she frequently, and very provokingly, addressed
herself to me ; once she called out aloud, " Pray,
Miss Burney, is there anything new coming out ? "
And another time, " Well, I wish people who can
entertain me would entertain me ! "

These sort of pointed speeches are almost worse
than direct attacks ; for there is no knowing how
to look, or what to say, especially where the eyes
of a whole company mark the object for whom
they are meant.

To the last of these speeches I made no sort of
answer : but Sir Joshua very good-naturedly turned
it from me, by saying,

" Well, let every one do what they can in their
different ways ; do you begin yourself."

180 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

" Oh, I can't ! " cried she ; " I have tried, but I
can't."

"Do you think, then," answered he, "that all
the world is made only to entertain you ? "

A very lively dialogue ensued. But I grow
tired of writing. One thing, however, I must
mention, which, at the time, frightened me wofully.

"Pray, Sir Joshua," asked Lord Palmerston,
" what is this Warley l that is just come out ? "

[Was not this a cruel question ? I felt in such
a twitter !]

" Why, I don't know," answered he ; " but the
reviewers, my Lord, speak very well of it."

Mrs. Choi.— Who wrote it ?

Sir Joshua. — Mr. Huddisford.

Mrs. Choi.— Oh! I don't like it at all, then!
Huddisford ! What a name ! [Miss Burney, pray
can you conceive anything of such a name as
Huddisford ? I could not speak a word, and I
daresay I looked no -how. But was it not an
unlucky reference to me ?]

Sir Joshua attempted a kind of vindication of
him : but Lord Palmerston said, drily,

" I think, Sir Joshua, it is dedicated to you ? "

"Yes, my Lord," answered he.

" Oh, your servant ! Is it so ? " cried Mrs.
Cholmondeley ; "then you need say no more !"

Sir Joshua laughed, and the subject, to my great
relief, was dropped.

When we broke up to depart, which was not till
near two in the morning, Mrs. Cholmondeley went
up to my mother, and begged her permission to
visit in St. Martin's Street. Then, as she left the
room, she said to me, with a droll sort of threaten-
ing look,

" You have not got rid of me yet ; I have been
forcing myself into your house."

1 See ante, p. 158 n.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 181

I must own I was not at all displeased at this,
as I had very much and very reasonably feared
that she would have been by then as sick of me
from disappointment, as she was before eager for
me from curiosity.

When we came away, Offy Palmer, laughing,
said to me,

" I think this will be a breaking-in to you ! "

" Ah," cried I, " if I had known of your party I "

" You would have been sick in bed, I suppose ? "

I would not answer " No," yet I was glad it was

over. And so concludeth this memorable evening.

Yet I must tell you that I observed with much

delight, that whoever spoke of the Thrales, was

sure to turn to me, whence I conclude, since I am

sure no puffs of mine can have caused it, that her

kindness towards me has been published by herself.

I shall now skip to the Thursday following,
when I accompanied my father to Streatham.
We had a delightful ride, though the day was
horrible.

In two minutes we were joined by Mr. Seward,
and in four, by Dr. Johnson. Mr. Seward, though
a reserved and cold young man, has a heart open
to friendship, and very capable of good-nature and
goodwill, though I believe it abounds not with
them to all indiscriminately : but he really loves
my father, and his reserve once, is always, con-
quered. He seemed heartily glad to see us both :
and the dear Dr. Johnson was more kind, more
pleased, and more delightful than ever. Our several
meetings in town seem now to have quite estab-
lished me in his favour, and I flatter myself that if
he were now accused of loving me, he would not
deny it, nor, as before, insist on waiting longer ere
he went so far.1

1 See ante, p. 119.

182 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

[" I hope, Dr. Burney," cried Mr. Seward, " you
are now come to stay ? "

" No ! " cried my father, shaking his head, " that
is utterly out of my power at present."

"Well, but this fair lady" (N.B.— Fair and
brown are synonymous terms in conversation, how-
ever opposite in looks) " I hope will stay ? "

" No, no, no ! " was the response, and he came
to me and pressed the invitation very warmly ; but
Dr. Johnson, going to the window, called me from
him.]

" Well, my dear," cried he, in a low voice, " and
how are you now ? have you done fretting ? have
you got over your troubles ? "

" Ah, sir," quoth I, " I am sorry they told you
of my folly ; yet I am very much obliged to you
for bearing to hear of it with so much indulgence,
for I had feared it would have made you hold me
cheap ever after."

" No, my dear, no ! What should I hold you
cheap for ? It did not surprise me at all ; I
thought it very natural ; but you must think no
more of it."

F. B. — Why, sir, to say the truth, I don't know,
after all, whether I do not owe the affair in part to
you !

Dr. J. — To me ? how so ?

F. B.— Why, the appellation of " little Burney,"
I think, must have come from you, for I know of
nobody else that calls me so.

This is a fact, Susy, and the " dear little Burney/'
makes it still more suspicious, for I am sure Sir
Joshua Reynolds would never speak of me so
facetiously after only one meeting.

Dr. Johnson seemed almost shocked, and warmly
denied having been any way accessory.

"Why, sir," cried I, "they say the pamphlet was
written by a Mr. Huddisford. Now I never saw,

1779 THE AUTHOR OF ' EVELINA' 183

never heard of him before ; how, therefore, should
he know whether I am little or tall ? he could not
call me little by inspiration ; I might be a Pata-
gonian for anything he could tell."

Dr. J. — Pho ! fiddle-faddle ; do you suppose your
book is so much talked of and not yourself? Do
you think your readers will not ask questions, and
inform themselves whether you are short or tall,
young or old ? Why should you put it on me ?

After this he made me follow him into the
library, that we might continue our confab without
interruption ; and just as we were seated, entered
Mrs. Thrale. I flew to her, and she received me
with the sweetest cordiality. They placed me
between them, and we had a most delicious
trio.

We talked over the visit at Sir Joshua's ; and
Dr. Johnson told me that Mrs. Cholmondeley was
the first person who publicly praised and recom-
mended Evelina among the wits. Mrs. Thrale told
me that at Tunbridge and Brighthelmstone it was
the universal topic ; and that Mrs. Montagu had
pronounced the dedication to be so well written,
that she could not but suppose it must be the
doctor's.

" She is very kind," quoth I, " because she likes
one part better than another, to take it from
me !

" You must not mind that," said Dr. Johnson,
"for such things are always said where books are
successful. There are three distinct kind of judges
upon all new authors or productions ; the first are
those who know no rules, but pronounce entirely
from their natural taste and feelings ; the second
are those who know and judge by rules ; and the
third are those who know, but are above the rules.
These last are those you should wish to satisfy.
Next to them rate the natural judges ; but ever

184 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

despise those opinions that are formed by the
rules."

[Mrs. Thrale wanted me much to stay all night,
but it could not be ; and she pressed me to come
the next week, to be introduced to Miss Streatfield,
who, she said, much wished the same ; but these
wishes only serve to chill me, for I am sure I shall
always disappoint them ; and therefore the minute
I hear anybody desires particularly to see me, I
desire particularly to avoid them !

Don't scold, Susy, for I can't help it. The idea
of being an object of any attention gives me a
restraint equally unconquerable and uncomfortable.
I therefore entirely deferred repeating my visit till
your return, for I only could have had leave for
one day.

When we came home we heard that Mrs.
Cholmondeley had been at our house almost all the
morning, asking questions innumerable about me,
and asserting that she must come to close quarters
with me, ere she could satisfy her mind fully that
all those characters could be my own ! She said,
moreover, that Lord Palmer ston, hearing the
authoress of Evelina was to be at Sir Joshua's, had
begged to be invited.

But what was most charming, she said that my
whole behaviour was sat upon afterwards, and
that the jury brought in their verdict, that it was
strictly proper. This, I will own, has relieved me
from some very disagreeable apprehensions I had
been full of, that I had certainly disappointed the
whole party, and exposed myself to their ridicule.]

Last week I called on Mrs. Williams, and Dr.
Johnson, who had just returned from Streatham,
came downstairs to me, and was so kind ! I quite
dote on him ; and I do really believe that, take
away Mr. Crisp, there is no man out of this house
who has so real and affectionate a regard for me :

1779 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA ' 185

and I am sure, take away the same person, I can
with the utmost truth say the same thing in
return.

I asked after all the Streathamites.

"Why," said he, "we now only want you — we
have Miss Streatfleld, Miss Brown, Murphy, and
Seward — we only want you ! Has Mrs. Thrale
called on you lately ? "

"Yes, sir."

" Ah," said he, " you are such a darling ! "

Mrs. Williams added a violent compliment to
this, but concluded with saying,

" My only fear is lest she should put me in a
book!"

" Sir Joshua Reynolds," answered Dr. Johnson,
" says, that if he were conscious to himself of any
trick, or any affectation, there is nobody he should
so much fear as this little Burney ! "

This speech he told me once before, so that I
find it has struck him much ; and so I suppose it
did Mr. Huddisford, who, probably, has heard one
similar to it.

• •••••

[The Sunday following, Mr. Seward drank tea,
and Mr. Baretti supped here. I had a great deal
of conversation with Mr. Seward about Miss
Streatfleld : he thinks her a very pleasing girl ;
but, notwithstanding her knowledge of what he
calls "the crooked letters," he owned that he
thought her neither bright nor deep, and rather
too tender-hearted, for that she had tears at
command.

Miss Brown, though far less formed and less
cultivated, he said, had a better natural under-
standing : but she was coarse and rough.

Of whom, I wonder, would Mr. Seward speak
really well ? I think, altogether, he is more difficult
to please as to persons than anybody I know.

186 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

He was so facetious as to propose my writing
for Lady Miller's vase, and undertook to convey
my verses to it.

He asked many questions of when I should go to
Streatham ; but said he was sure Miss Streatfleld
would not answer to me.

Baretti worries me about writing — asks a million
of questions of how much I have written, and
so forth, and when I say " Nothing," he raves and
rants, and says he could beat me.

However, we had a very agreeable evening.
Baretti was in a very good humour, and Mr.
Seward was extremely droll and entertaining.
You know les agr emeus are all his own, when he
chooses to call for them.]

And now, my dear Susan, to relate the affairs
of an evening, perhaps the most important of my
life. To say that, is, I am sure, enough to interest
you, my dearest girl, in all I can tell you of it.

On Monday last, my father sent a note to Mrs.
Cholmondeley, to propose our waiting on her the
Wednesday following ; she accepted the proposal,
and accordingly on Wednesday evening, my father,
mother, and self went to Hertford Street.

I should have told you that Mrs. Cholmondeley,
when my father some time ago called on her, sent
me a message, that if I would go to see her, I
should not again be stared at or worried ; and she
acknowledged that my visit at Sir Joshua's was a
formidable one, and that I was watched the whole
evening ; but that upon the whole, the company
behaved extremely well, for they only ogled !

Well, we were received by Mrs. Cholmondeley
with great politeness, and in a manner that showed
she intended to entirely throw aside Madame
Duval, and to conduct herself towards me in a
new style.

Mr. and the Misses Cholmondeley and Miss

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 187

Forrest were with her ; but who else think you ?
— why Mrs. Sheridan ! l I was absolutely charmed
at the sight of her. I think her quite as beautiful
as ever, and even more captivating ; for she has
now a look of ease and happiness that animates
her whole face.

Miss Linley 2 was with her ; she is very hand-
some, but nothing near her sister : the elegance
of Mrs. Sheridan's beauty is unequalled by any I
ever saw, except Mrs. Crewe. I was pleased with
her in all respects. She is much more lively and
agreeable than I had any idea of finding her ; she
was very gay, and very unaffected, and totally free
from airs of any kind.

Miss Linley was very much out of spirits ; she
did not speak three words the whole evening, and
looked wholly unmoved at all that passed. Indeed
she appeared to be heavy and inanimate.

Mrs. Cholmondeley sat next me. She is deter-
mined, I believe, to make me like her ; and she
will, I believe, have full success ; for she is very
clever, very entertaining, and very much unlike
anybody else.

The first subject started was the Opera, and all
joined in the praise of Pacchierotti. Mrs. Sheridan
declared she could not hear him without tears,
and that he was the first Italian singer who ever
affected her to such a degree.

They then talked of the intended marriage of
the Duke of Dorset with Miss Cumberland, and
many ridiculous anecdotes were related. The con-
versation naturally fell upon Mr. Cumberland, and
he was finely cut up !

"What a man is that! " said Mrs. Cholmondeley :
" I cannot bear him — so querulous, so dissatisfied,

1 R. B. Sheridan's wife, rt4e Elizabeth Ann Linley, 1754-92, an accom-
plished singer. At this date she had been married seven years. Reynolds
had painted her as St. Cecilia in 1775.

2 Mrs. Sheridan's sister, afterwards Mrs. Tickell.

188 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

so determined to like nobody and nothing but
himself ! "

" What, Mr. Cumberland ? " exclaimed I.

" Yes," answered she ; " I hope you don't like
him ? "

" I don't know him, ma'am. I have only seen
him once, at Mrs. Ord's."1

" Oh, don't like him for your life ! I charge
you not ! I hope you did not like his looks ? "

" Why," quoth I, laughing, " I went prepared
and determined to like him ; but, perhaps, when
I see him next, I may go prepared for the
contrary."

[After this, Miss More was mentioned ; and I
was asked what I thought of her ?

" Don't be formal with me ; if you are, I shan't
, ^0^<J^ke you!"

" I have no hope that you will anyway ! "

" Oh, fie ! fie ! but as to Miss More— I don't

like her at all ; that is, I detest her ! She does

nothing but flatter and fawn ; and then she thinks

ill of nobody. Don't you hate a person who

/ thinks ill of nobody ? "

My father then told what Dr. Johnson had
said to her on the occasion of her praising him.

" This rejoices, this does me good ! " cried she ;
" I would have given the world to have heard that.
Oh, there's no supporting the company of professed
flatterers. She gives me such doses of it, that I
cannot endure her ; but I always sit still and make
no answer, but receive it as if I thought it my due :
that is the only way to quiet her. She is really
detestable. I hope, Miss Burney, you don't think
I admire all geniuses ? The only person I flatter,"
continued she, " is Garrick ; and he likes it so

1 Mrs. Ord, often mentioned hereafter, was the daughter of a surgeon
named Dellingham, and a widow with means. She was one of Miss
Burney's kindest friends (see Early Diary, 1898, ii. 139).

1779 THE AUTHOR OF ' EVELINA' 189

much, that it pays one by the spirits it gives him.
Other people that I like, I dare not flatter."]

A rat-tat-tat-tat ensued, and the Earl of Har-
court l was announced. When he had paid his
compliments to Mrs. Cholmondeley —

" I knew, ma'am," he said, " that I should find
you at home."

" I suppose, then, my lord," said she, " that you
have seen Sir Joshua Reynolds ; for he is engaged
to be here."

" I have," answered his lordship ; " and heard
from him that I should be sure to find you."

And then he added some very fine compliment,
but I have forgot it.

" Oh, my lord," cried she, " you have the most
discernment of anybody ! His lordship (turning
another way) always says these things to me, and
yet he never flatters."

Lord Harcourt, speaking of the lady from
whose house he was just come, said,

"Mrs. Vesey is vastly agreeable,2 but her fear
of ceremony is really troublesome ; for her eager-
ness to break a circle is such, that she insists upon
everybody's sitting with their backs one to another ;
that is, the chairs are drawn into little parties of
three together, in a confused manner, all over the
room."

" Why, then," said my father, " they may have
the pleasure of caballing and cutting up one
another, even in the same room."

" Oh, I like the notion of all things," cried Mrs.
Cholmondeley, " I shall certainly adopt it ! "

And then she drew her chair into the middle of

1 George Simon, second Earl, 1736-1809.

2 Mrs. Elizabeth Vesey, of "Blue-Stocking" celebrity, 1715-91, the
second wife of Agmondesham Vesey, M.P., a member of the Literary
Club. Between 1770 and 1784, Mrs. Vesey's literary parties (which
Walpole called " Babels ") were much frequented. At this date she lived
in Bolton Street, Piccadilly.

190 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

our circle. Lord Harcourt turned his round, and
his back to most of us, and my father did the same.
You can't imagine a more absurd sight.

Just then the door opened, and Mr. Sheridan *
entered.

Was I not in luck ? Not that I believe the
meeting was accidental ; but I had more wished to
meet him and his wife than any people I know
not.

I could not endure my ridiculous situation, but
replaced myself in an orderly manner immedi-
ately. Mr. Sheridan stared at them all, and Mrs.
Cholmondeley said she intended it as a hint for a
comedy.

Mr. Sheridan has a very fine figure, and a good
though I don't think a handsome face. He is tall,
and very upright, and his appearance and address
are at once manly and fashionable, without the
smallest tincture of foppery or modish graces. In
short, I like him vastly, and think him every way
worthy his beautiful companion.

And let me tell you what I know will give you
as much pleasure as it gave me, — that, by all I
could observe in the course of the evening, and we
stayed very late, they are extremely happy in each
other : he evidently adores her, and she as evidently
idolises him. The world has by no means done
him justice.

When he had paid his compliments to all his
acquaintance, he went behind the sofa on which
Mrs. Sheridan and Miss Cholmondeley were seated,
and entered into earnest conversation with them.

Upon Lord Harcourt's again paying Mrs. Cholm-
ondeley some compliment, she said,

" Well, my lord, after this I shall be quite sub-
lime for some days ! I shan't descend into common

1 Richard Brinsley Sheridan, 1751-1816. He had just produced the
School for Scandal at Drury Lane (1777).

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 191

life till — till Saturday, and then I shall drop
into the vulgar style — I shall be in the ma foi
way."

I do really believe she could not resist this, for
she had seemed determined to be quiet.

When next there was a rat-tat, Mrs. Cholmonde-
ley and Lord Harcourt, and my father again, at the
command of the former, moved into the middle
of the room, and then Sir Joshua Reynolds and
Dr. Warton 1 entered.

No further company came. You may imagine
there was a general roar at the breaking of the
circle, and when they got into order, Mr. Sheridan
seated himself in the place Mrs. Cholmondeley had
left, between my father and myself.

And now I must tell you a little conversation
which I did not hear myself till I came home ; it
was between Mr. Sheridan and my father.

"Dr. Burney," cried the former, "have you no
older daughters ? Can this possibly be the authoress
of Evelina ? "

And then he said abundance of fine things, and
begged my father to introduce him to me.

" Why, it will be a very formidable thing to
her/' answered he, "to be introduced to you."

"Well then, by and by," returned he.

Some time after this, my eyes happening to
meet his, he waived the ceremony of introduction,
and in a low voice said,

"I have been telling Dr. Burney that I have
long expected to see in Miss Burney a lady of the
gravest appearance, with the quickest parts."

I was never much more astonished than at this
unexpected address, as among all my numerous
puffers the name of Sheridan has never reached

1 Joseph Warton, D.D., 1722-1800, author of the Essay on the Genius
and Writings of Pope, 1756-82, and Head Master of Winchester, where
Fanny's brother Dick was at school.

192 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

me, and I did really imagine he had never deigned
to look at my trash.

Of course I could make no verbal answer, and
he proceeded then to speak of Evelina in terms of
the highest praise ; but I was in such a ferment
from surprise (not to say pleasure), that I have no
recollection of his expressions. I only remember
telling him that I was much amazed he had spared
time to read it, and that he repeatedly called it a
most surprising book ; and sometime after he added,
"But I hope, Miss Burney, you don't intend to
throw away your pen ? "

" You should take care, sir," said I, " what you
say : for you know not what weight it may have."

He wished it might have any, he said, and soon
after turned again to my father.

I protest, since the approbation of the Streatham-
ites, I have met with none so flattering to me as
this of Mr. Sheridan, and so very unexpected.

[Sir Joshua then came up to me, and after some
general conversation said,

" Pray, do you know anything of the Sylph ? "

This is a novel, lately advertised by Lowndes.
Mr. Hutton has already been with me to inquire if
it was mine.

"No," quoth I.

" Don't you, upon your honour ? "

" Upon my honour ? — did you suspect me ? "

" Why, a friend of mine sent for it upon
suspicion."

" So did we," said Miss Linley, " but I did not
suspect after I had read it."

" What is the reason," said Sir Joshua, " that
Lowndes always advertises it with Evelina ? "

" Indeed I know nothing about it."

"Ma'am," cried Mr. Sheridan, turning to me
abruptly, "you should send and order him not, —
it is a take-in, and ought to be forbid " ; and with

1779 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 198

great vehemence he added, " it is a most impudent
thing in that fellow ! "

I assure you I took it quite kind in him to give
me this advice. By the way, Mrs. Thrale has sent
me a message to the same purpose.1]

About this time Mrs. Cholmondeley was making
much sport, by wishing for an acrostic on her name.
She said she had several times begged for one in
vain, and began to entertain thoughts of writing
one herself.

" For," said she, " I am very famous for my
rhymes, though I never made a line of poetry in
my life."

" An acrostic on your name," said Mr. Sheridan,
" would be a formidable task ; it must be so long
that I think it should be divided into cantos."

" Miss Burney," cried Sir Joshua, who was now
reseated, " are not you a writer of verses ?"

F. B.— No, sir.

Mrs. Choi. — Oh, don't believe her. I have made
a resolution not to believe anything she says.

Mr. Sheridan. — I think a lady should not write
verses till she is past receiving them.

Mrs. Choi, (rising and stalking majestically
towards him). — Mr. Sheridan, pray, sir, what may
you mean by this insinuation ; did I not say I writ
verses ?

Mr. Sheridan. — Oh, but you

Mrs. Choi. — Say no more, sir ! You have made

1 The following was accordingly written to Lowndes : " Dr. Burney
sends his Compts. to Mr. Lowndes and acquaints him that by the
manner in which Evelina has for some time been advertised in Company
with the Sylph, it has generally been imagined that both these Novels have
been written by one and the same Author. Now, as Mr. Lowndes must
be certain that they are the works of different authors, and as accident
has now made the Author of Evelina pretty generally known, who by no
means wishes to rob the writer of the Sylph of whatever praise may be his
due, Dr. B. begs Mr. L. will not only cease to advertise these books in
an equivocal way, but inform the Public in some clear and decisive manner
that they are the work of two different writers. St. Martin's Street,
January 27 [1779] " (MS. in Archdeacon Burney's possession).

VOL. I O

194 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

your meaning but too plain already. There now,
I think that's a speech for a tragedy !

Some time after, Sir Joshua returning to his
standing - place, entered into confab with Miss
Linley and your slave, upon various matters, during
which Mr. Sheridan, joining us, said,

" Sir Joshua, I have been telling Miss Burney
that she must not suffer her pen to lie idle — ought
she?"

Sir Joshua. — No, indeed, ought she not.

Mr. Sheridan. — Do you then, Sir Joshua, per-
suade her. But perhaps you have begun some-
thing ? May we ask ? Will you answer a question
candidly ?

F. B. — I don't know, but as candidly as Mrs.
Candour1 I think I certainly shall.

Mr. Sheridan. — What then are you about now ?

F. B. — Why, twirling my fan, I think !

Mr. Sheridan. — No, no ; but what are you about
at home? However, it is not a fair question, so
I won't press it.

Yet he looked very inquisitive ; but I was glad
to get off without any downright answer.

Sir Joshua. — Anything in the dialogue way, I
think, she must succeed in ; and I am sure invention
will not be wanting.

Mr. Sheridan. — No, indeed ; I think, and say,
she should write a comedy.

Sir Joshua. — I am sure I think so ; and hope
she will.

I could only answer by incredulous exclamations.

"Consider," continued Sir Joshua, "you have
already had all the applause and fame you can have
given you in the closet ; but the acclamation of a
theatre will be new to you."

And then he put down his trumpet, and began
a violent clapping of his hands.

1 In the School for Scandal.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 195

I actually shook from head to foot ! I felt
myself already in Drury Lane, amidst the hubbub
of a first night.

" Oh no ! " cried I, " there may be a noise, but
it will be just the reverse." And I returned his
salute with a hissing.

Mr. Sheridan joined Sir Joshua very warmly.

" Oh, sir ! " cried I, " you should not run on so, —
you don't know what mischief you may do ! "

Mr. Sheridan. — I wish I may — I shall be very
glad to be accessory.

Sir Joshua. — She has, certainly, something of a
knack at characters ; — where she got it, I don't
know, — and how she got it, I can't imagine ; but
she certainly has it. And to throw it away is

Mr. Sheridan. — Oh, she won't, — she will write
a comedy, — she has promised me she will !

F. B. — Oh ! — if you both run on in this manner,
I shall

I was going to say get under the chair, but Mr.
Sheridan, interrupting me with a laugh, said,

" Set about one ? very well, that's right ! "

" Ay," cried Sir Joshua, " that's very right. And
you (to Mr. Sheridan) would take anything of hers,
would you not ? — unsight, unseen ? "

What a point - blank question ! who but Sir
Joshua would have ventured it !

"Yes," answered Mr. Sheridan, with quickness,
" and make her a bow and my best thanks into the
bargain."

Now, my dear Susy, tell me, did you ever hear
the fellow to such a speech as this ! — it was all I
could do to sit it.

" Mr. Sheridan," I exclaimed, " are you not
mocking me ? "

" No, upon my honour ! this is what I have
meditated to say to you the first time I should
have the pleasure of seeing you."

196 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

To be sure, as Mrs. Thrale says, if folks are to
be spoilt, there is nothing in the world so pleasant
as spoiling ! But I was never so much astonished,
and seldom have been so much delighted, as by
this attack of Mr. Sheridan. Afterwards he took
my father aside, and formally repeated his opinion
that I should write for the stage, and his desire to
see my play, — with encomiums the most flattering
of Evelina.

And now, my dear Susy, if I should attempt
the stage, I think I may be fairly acquitted of
presumption, and however I may fail, that I was
strongly pressed to try by Mrs. Thrale, and by
Mr. Sheridan, the most successful and powerful of
all dramatic living authors, will abundantly excuse
my temerity.

In short, — this evening seems to have been
decisive ; my many and increasing scruples all gave
way to encouragement so warm, from so experi-
enced a judge, who is himself interested in not
making such a request par complaisance. Some
time after, Sir Joshua beckoned to Dr. Warton to
approach us, and said,

" Give me leave, Miss Burney, to introduce Dr.
Warton to you."

We both made our reverences, and then Sir
Joshua, who was now quite facetious, said,
laughing,

"Come, Dr. Warton, now give Miss Burney
your opinion of — something, — tell her what is your
opinion of — a certain book."

This was very provoking of Sir Joshua, and
Dr. Warton seemed as much embarrassed as
myself; but, after a little hesitation, he very
politely said,

" I have no opinion to give — I can only join in
the voice of the public."

I have no more time nor room to go on, or I

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 197

could write you a folio of the conversation at
supper, when everybody was in spirits, and a
thousand good things were said : I sat between
Sir Joshua and Miss Linley. Mrs. Cholmondeley
addressed almost all her bons mots and drolleries
to me, and was flattering in her distinction to
a degree ; yet did not, as at our first meeting,
overpower me.

PART V

1779

Diary resumed — Mrs. Thrale and Dr. Johnson — Sir Philip Clerke
— Whigs and Tories — A political discussion — Liberality of
Dr. Johnson — Murphy, the dramatist — He urges Miss
Burney to write a comedy — Table-talk between Johnson,
Murphy, Mrs. Thrale, and Miss Burney — Country neighbours
— Goldsmith — Tears at will — Letter from Miss Burney to
Mr. Crisp — The Maecenases of the day — Diary resumed —
Visit to Brighton — Brighton society in 1779 — A grand
dinner-party — A character — The Bishop of Peterborough —
An evening party — Wealth and ennui — Queen Dido —
News from home — An order from headquarters — Military
discipline — Captain Crop — Dr. Delap — Mr. Murphy — Cross-
examination — The Bishop of Winchester — Return to
Streatham — Illness of Mr. Thrale — Sir Philip Clerke —
Evelina — A learned lady — Table-talk — Tears at will — The
man of indifference — Taste in dress — Raillery — Affectation —
Candide — Pococurante — Dr. Middleton — A weeping beauty
— Table-talk — Intended journey to Spa — Projected comedy
— A scene — Ennui — Sir Richard Jebb — Lady Anne Lindsay
— Learned ladies — Dr. Johnson.

Streatham, February. — I have been here so
long, my dearest Susan, without writing a word,
that now I hardly know where or how to begin.
But I will try to draw up a concise account of
what has passed for this last fortnight, and then
endeavour to be more minute.

Mrs. Thrale and Dr. Johnson vied with each
other in the kindness of their reception of me.
Mr. Thrale was, as usual at first, cold and

198

1779

DIARY AND LETTERS 199

quiet, but soon, as usual also, warmed into
sociality.

The next day Sir Philip Jennings Clerke came.1
He is not at all a man of letters, but extremely
well-bred, nay, elegant, in his manners, and
sensible and agreeable in his conversation. He is
a professed minority man, and very active and
zealous in the opposition. He had, when I came,
a bill in agitation concerning contractors — too
long a matter to explain upon paper — but which
was levelled against bribery and corruption in the
ministry, and which he was to make a motion
upon in the House of Commons the next week.

Men of such different principles as Dr.
Johnson and Sir Philip, you may imagine, can-
not have much sympathy or cordiality in their
political debates ; however, the very superior
abilities of the former, and the remarkable good
breeding of the latter, have kept both upon good
terms ; though they have had several arguments,
in which each has exerted his utmost force for
conquest.

The heads of one of their debates I must try
to remember, because I should be sorry to forget.
Sir Philip explained his bill ; Dr. Johnson at
first scoffed it ; Mr. Thrale betted a guinea the
motion would not pass, and Sir Philip, that he
should divide a hundred and fifty upon it.

[I am afraid, my dear Susan, you already
tremble at this political commencement, but I
will soon have done, for I know your taste too
well to enlarge upon this theme.]

Sir Philip, addressing himself to Mrs. Thrale,

1 He was M.P. for Totnes, and, according to Boswell, who met him
later at Thrale's, a highly picturesque personage. " Sir Philip had the
appearance of a gentleman of ancient family, well advanced in life. He
wore his own white hair in a bag of goodly size, a black velvet coat, with
an embroidered waistcoat, and very rich laced ruffles. . . . * Ah, Sir
(said Johnson), ancient ruffles and modern principles do not agree ' "
(Hill's Boswell, 1887, iv. pp. 80-81).

200 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

hoped she would not suffer the Tories to warp
her judgment, and told me he hoped my father
had not tainted my principles ; and then he
further explained his bill, and indeed made it
appear so equitable, that Mrs. Thrale gave in to
it, and wished her husband to vote for it. He
still hung back; but, to our general surprise, Dr.
Johnson, having made more particular inquiries
into its merits, first softened towards it, and then
declared it a very rational and fair bill, and
joined with Mrs. Thrale in soliciting Mr. Thrale' s
vote.

Sir Philip was, and with very good reason, quite
delighted. He opened upon politics more amply,
and freely declared his opinions, which were so
strongly against the Government, and so much
bordering upon the Republican principles, that
Dr. Johnson suddenly took fire ; he called back
his recantation, begged Mr. Thrale not to vote for
Sir Philip's bill, and grew very animated against
his antagonist.

"The bill," said he, "ought to be opposed by
all honest men ! in itself, and considered simply,
it is equitable, and I would forward it ; but when
we find what a faction it is to support and
encourage, it ought not to be listened to. All
men should oppose it who do not wish well to
sedition ! "

These, and several other expressions yet more
strong, he made use of; and had Sir Philip had
less unalterable politeness, I believe they would
have had a vehement quarrel. He maintained his
ground, however, with calmness and steadiness,
though he had neither argument nor wit at all
equal to such an opponent.

Dr. Johnson pursued him with unabating
vigour and dexterity, and at length, though he
could not convince, he so entirely baffled him,

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 201

that Sir Philip was self- compelled to be quiet —
which, with a very good grace, he confessed.

Dr. Johnson then, recollecting himself, and
thinking, as he owned afterwards, that the dispute
grew too serious, with a skill all his own, suddenly
and unexpectedly turned it to burlesque ; and
taking Sir Philip by the hand at the moment we
arose after supper, and were separating for the
night

"Sir Philip," said he, "you are too liberal a
man for the party to which you belong ; I shall
have much pride in the honour of converting you ;
for I really believe, if you were not spoiled by
bad company, the spirit of faction would not
have possessed you. Go, then, sir, to the House,
but make not your motion ! Give up your Bill,
and surprise the world by turning to the side of
truth and reason. Rise, sir, when they least
expect you, and address your fellow-patriots to
this purpose : — Gentlemen, I have, for many a
weary day, been deceived and seduced by you.
I have now opened my eyes ; I see that you are
all scoundrels — the subversion of all government
is your aim. Gentlemen, I will no longer herd
among rascals in whose infamy my name and
character must be included. I therefore re-
nounce you all, gentlemen, as you deserve to be
renounced."

Then, shaking his hand heartily, he added,

" Go, sir, go to bed ; meditate upon this
recantation, and rise in the morning a more honest
man than you laid down." 1

Now I must try to be rather more minute. On
Thursday, while my dear father was here, who

1 Mr. Thrale must have won his bet. " March 10 . . . Sir Ph. J. CI — he
brought forward the bill for excluding contractors with government from
sitting in the house ; which was rejected by a majority of 41 " (Gentleman's
Magazine, December 1779, p. 575). But see post, April 24, 1782.

202 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

should be announced but Mr. Murphy ; the man
of all other strangers to me whom I most longed
to see.

He is tall and well made, has a very gentleman-
like appearance, and a quietness of manner upon
his first address that, to me, is very pleasing. His
face looks sensible, and his deportment is perfectly
easy and polite.

When he had been welcomed by Mrs. Thrale,
and had gone through the reception-salutations of
Dr. Johnson and my father, Mrs. Thrale, advancing
to me, said,

"But here is a lady I must introduce to you,
Mr. Murphy : here is another F. B."

" Indeed ! " cried he, taking my hand ; " is this
a sister of Miss Brown's ? "

" No, no ; this is Miss Burney."

" What ! " cried he, staring, " is this — is this —
this is not the lady that — that "

" Yes, but it is," answered she, laughing.

" No, you don't say so ? You don't mean the
lady that "

" Yes, yes, I do ; no less a lady, I assure you."

He then said he was very glad of the honour of
seeing me ; and I sneaked away.

When we came upstairs, Mrs. Thrale charged
me to make myself agreeable to Mr. Murphy.

" He may be of use to you, in what I am most
eager for — your writing a play : he knows stage
business so well ; and if you will but take a fancy
to one another, he may be more able to serve
you than all of us put together. My ambition
is that Johnson should write your prologue,
and Murphy your epilogue ; then I shall be quite
happy."

At tea-time, when I went into the library, I
found Dr. Johnson reading, and Mrs. Thrale in
close conference with Mr. Murphy.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 203

"It is well, Miss Burney," said the latter,
"that you have come, for we were abusing you
most vilely ; we were in the very act of pulling
you to pieces."

" Don't you think her very like her father ? "
said Mrs. Thrale.

" Yes : but what a sad man is Dr. Burney for
running away so ! how long had he been here ? "

Mrs. Thrale. — Oh, but an hour or two. I often
say Dr. Burney is the most of a male coquet
of any man I know ; for he only gives one enough
of his company to excite a desire for more.

Mr. Murphy. — Dr. Burney is, indeed, a most
extraordinary man ; I think I don't know such
another : he is at home upon all subjects, and
upon all so agreeable ! he is a wonderful man ! "

And now let me stop this conversation, to go
back to a similar one with Dr. Johnson, who, a
few days since, when Mrs. Thrale was singing our
father's praise, used this expression :

" I love Burney : my heart goes out to meet
him ! "

" He is not ungrateful, sir," cried I ; "for most
heartily does he love you."

"Does he, madam ? I am surprised at that."

"Why, sir? why should you have doubted
it?"

"Because, madam, Dr. Burney is a man for
all the world to love : it is but natural to love
him."

I could almost have cried with delight at this
cordial, unlaboured eloge. Another time, he
said,

" I much question if there is, in the world, such
another man as Dr. Burney."

But to return to the tea-table.

" If I," said Mr. Murphy, looking very archly,
" had written a certain book — a book I won't name,

204 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

but a book I have lately read — I would next write
a comedy."

" Good," cried Mrs. Thrale, colouring with plea-
sure ; 1 "do you think so too ? "

" Yes, indeed ; I thought so while I was reading
it ; it struck me repeatedly."

" Don't look at me, Miss Burney," cried Mrs.
Thrale ; " for this is no doing of mine, Well, I
do wonder what Miss Burney will do twenty years
hence, when she can blush no more ; for now she
can never bear the name of her book."

Mr. Murphy. — Nay, I name no book; at least
no author : how can I, for I don't know the author ;
there is no name given to it : I only say, whoever
wrote that book ought to write a comedy. Dr.
Johnson might write it for aught I know.

F. B.— Oh yes !

Mr. Murphy. — Nay, I have often told him he
does not know his own strength, or he would write
a comedy ; and so I think.

Dr. Johnson (laughing). — Suppose Burney and
I begin together ?

Mr. Murphy. — Ah, I wish you would ! I wish
you would Beaumont and Fletcher us !

F. B. — My father asked me, this morning, how
my head stood. If he should have asked me this
evening, I don't know what answer I must have
made.

Mr. Murphy. — I have no wish to turn anybody's
head : I speak what I really think ; — comedy is the
forte of that book. I laughed over it most violently :
and if the author — I won't say who (all the time
looking away from me) — will write a comedy, I
will most readily, and with great pleasure, give any
advice or assistance in my power.

1 It is difficult to imagine Mrs. Thrale, who habitually over-rouged,
contriving to colour with pleasure (Hay ward's Autobiography, etc. of Mrs.
Piozzi (Thrale), 1861, i. 43).

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 205

" Well, now you are a sweet man ! " cried Mrs.
Thrale, who looked ready to kiss him. " Did not
I tell you, Miss Burney, that Mr. Murphy was the
man ? "

Mr. Murphy. — All I can do, I shall be very
happy to do ; and at least, I will undertake to say
I can tell what the sovereigns of the upper gallery
will bear : for they are the most formidable part
of an audience. I have had so much experience in
this sort of work, that I believe I can always tell
what will be hissed at least. And if Miss Burney
will write, and will show me

Dr. Johnson. — Come, come, have done with this
now ; why should you overpower her ? Let's have
no more of it. I don't mean to dissent from what
you say ; I think well of it, and approve of it ; but
you have said enough of it.

Mr. Murphy, who equally loves and reverences
Dr. Johnson, instantly changed the subject.

The rest of the evening was delightful. Mr.
Murphy told abundance of most excellent stories ;
Dr. Johnson was in exceeding good humour ; and
Mrs. Thrale all cheerfulness and sweetness.

For my part, in spite of her injunctions, I could
not speak ; I was in a kind of consternation. Mr.
Murphy's speeches, flattering as they were, made
me tremble ; for I cannot get out of my head the
idea of disgracing so many people.

After supper, Dr. Johnson turned the discourse
upon silent folks — whether by way of reflection and
reproof, or by accident, I know not ; but I do know
he is provoked with me for not talking more ; and
I was afraid he was seriously provoked ; but, a
little while ago, I went into the music -room,
where he was tete-a-tete with Mrs. Thrale, and
calling me to him, he took my hand, and made
me sit next him, in a manner that seemed truly
affectionate.

206 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

" Sir," cried I, " I was much afraid I was going
out of your favour ! "

" Why so ? what should make you think so ? "

" Why, I don't know — my silence, I believe. I
began to fear you would give me up."

" No, my darling ! — my dear little Burney, no.
When I give you up "

" What then, sir ? " cried Mrs. Thrale.

"Why, I don't know; for whoever could give
her up would deserve worse than I can say ; I know
not what would be bad enough."

Streatham, Tuesday. — On my return hither,
my dearest Susy, Mrs. Thrale received Dick with
her usual kindness, and in the evening we went to
visit the P 's.

Miss Thrale, Miss P , and myself, after tea,

retired to have some talk among ourselves, which
of all things in the world, is most stupid with these

sort of misses (I mean the P 's, not Miss Thrale),

and we took Dick with us, to make sport.

Dick, proud of the office, played the buffoon
extremely well, and our laughs reaching to the

company-room, we were followed by a Mr. D ,

a poor half-witted clergyman. Dick played his
tricks over again, and, mad with spirits and the
applause of the young ladies, when he had done,
he clapt Mr. D on the back, and said,

" Come, sir, now you do something to divert
the ladies."

" No, sir, no ; I really can't," answered he.

"What, sir!" cried Dick, "not if the ladies
request you ? why, then you'll never do for Mr.
Smith ! You a'n't half so clever as Mr. Smith ;
and I'm sure you'll never be a Sir Clement
Willoughby ! " x

Did you ever hear the like ? I was forced to

1 Sir Clement Willoughby is the " agreeable rake " of Evelina.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 207

turn myself quite away, and poor Mr. D was

thunderstruck at the boy's assurance. When he
recovered himself, he said to me,

" Ma'am, this is a very fine young gentleman —
pray what book is he in ? "

" Do you mean at school, sir ? "

" No ; I mean what books does he study at home
besides his grammar ? "

" Indeed I don't know ; you must examine him."

" No ? Don't you know Latin, ma'am ? "

" No, indeed ; not at all ! "

" Really ? Well, I had heard you did."

I wonder, my dear Susy, what next will be said
of me !

Yesterday, at night, I told Dr. Johnson the
inquiry, and added that I attributed it to my being
at Streatham, and supposed the folks took it for
granted nobody would be admitted there without
knowing Latin, at least.

"No, my dear, no," answered he; "the man
thought it because you have written a book — he
concluded that a book could not be written by one
who knew no Latin. And it is strange that it
should — but, perhaps you do know it — for your
shyness, and slyness, and pretending to know
nothing, never took me in, whatever you may do
with others. I always knew you for a toadling."

At our usual time of absconding, he would not
let us go, and was in high good humour ; and when,
at last, Mrs. Thrale absolutely refused to stay any
longer, he took me by the hand, and said,

" Don't you mind her, my little Burney ; do
you stay whether she will or not."

So away went Mrs. Thrale, and left us to a
tete-a-tete.

Now I had been considering that perhaps I ought
to speak to him of my new castle,1 lest hereafter

1 Query — in the air.

208 DIARY AND LETTERS OF

1779

he should suspect that I preferred the counsel
of Mr. Murphy. I therefore determined to take
this opportunity, and, after some general nothings,
I asked if he would permit me to take a great
liberty with him ?

He assented with the most encouraging smile.
And then I said,

" I believe, sir, you heard part of what passed
between Mr. Murphy and me the other evening,
concerning — a — a comedy. Now, if I should
make such an attempt, would you be so good as
to allow me, any time before Michaelmas, to put
it in the coach, for you to look over as you go to
town ? "

" To be sure, my dear ! — What, have you begun
a comedy then ? " x

I told him how the affair stood. He then gave
me advice which just accorded with my wishes,
viz., not to make known that I had any such
intention ; to keep my own counsel ; not to
whisper even the name of it ; to raise no expecta-
tions, which were always prejudicial, and, finally,
to have it performed while the town knew nothing
of whose it was.

I readily assured him of my hearty concurrence
in his opinion ; but he somewhat distressed me
when I told him that Mr. Murphy must be in
my confidence, as he had offered his services, by
desiring he might be the last to see it.

What I shall do, I know not, for he has, him-
self, begged to be the first. Mrs. Thrale, however,
shall guide me between them. He spoke highly
of Mr. Murphy, too, for he really loves him. He
said he would not have it in the coach, but that I
should read it to him ; however, I could sooner
drown or hang !

When I would have offered some apology for

1 See ante, p. 90.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 209

the attempt, he stopped me, and desired I would
never make any.

" For," said he, " if it succeeds, it makes its own
apology, if not "

" If not," quoth I, " I cannot do worse than
Dr. Goldsmith, when his play failed, — go home
and cry ! " *

He laughed, but told me, repeatedly (I mean
twice, which, for him, is very remarkable) that I
might depend upon all the service in his power ;
and, he added, it would be well to make Murphy
the last judge, "for he knows the stage," he said,
" and I am quite ignorant of it."

Afterwards, grasping my hand with the most
affectionate warmth, he said,

" I wish you success ! I wish you well ! my dear
little Burney ! "

When, at length, I told him I could stay no
longer, and bid him good-night, he said, " There is
none like you, my dear little Burney ! there is none
like you ! — good-night, my darling ! ,;

[You, my dearest Susy, who know so well how
proud I am of his kindness, will, for that reason,
think it not ill-bestowed ; but I very often and
very unaffectedly wonder at it myself.]

Yesterday morning Miss Brown made a visit
here. Mrs. Thrale, unluckily, was gone to town.
But I am become quite intimate with her. She is
a most good-humoured, frank, unaffected, sociable
girl, and I like her very much. She stayed, I
believe, three hours. We had much talk of Mr.
Murphy, whom she adores, and whose avowed
preference of her to Miss Streatfield has quite
won her heart. We also talked much of Dr.
Johnson, and she confessed to me that both she

1 This is apparently a reference to the story told by Mrs. Piozzi of
Goldsmith's behaviour after the first night of the Good Natur'd Man
(Hill's Johnsonian Miscellanies, 1897, i. 311 ; Mrs. Piozzi's Anecdotes).
VOL. I P

210 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

and Miss S. S. were in fevers in his presence, from
apprehension.

"But," said she, "a lady of my acquaintance
asked me, some time ago, if I knew you ; I said
no, for then I had not had the honour of seeing
you. 'Well,' said she, 'but I hear Dr. Johnson
is quite devoted to her ; they say that he is grown
quite polite, and waits upon her, and gets her her
chair, and her tea, and pays her compliments from
morning to night.' I was quite glad to hear it, for
we agreed it would quite harmonise him."

I forgot to mention that, when I told Dr.
Johnson Mr. Murphy's kind offer of examining my
plan, and the several rules he gave me, and owned
that I had already gone too far to avail myself
of his obliging intention, he said, " Never mind,
my dear, — ah! you'll do without, — you want no
rules."

Tuesday Night. — Before they went, Miss S treat-
field came. Mrs. Thrale prevailed upon her to
stay till the next day.

I find her a very amiable girl, and extremely
handsome ; not so wise as I expected, but very
well ; however, had she not chanced to have had so
uncommon an education, with respect to literature
or learning, I believe she would not have made
her way among the wits by the force of her natural
parts.

Mr. Seward, you know, told me that she had
tears at command, and I begin to think so too, for
when Mrs. Thrale, who had previously told me I
should see her cry, began coaxing her to stay, and
saying " If you go, I shall know you don't love me
so well as Lady Gresham," — she did cry, not loud
indeed, nor much, but the tears came into her eyes,
and rolled down her fine cheeks.

" Come hither, Miss Burney," cried Mrs. Thrale,
" come and see Miss Streatfleld cry ! "

1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 211

I thought it a mere badinage. I went to them,
but when I saw real tears, I was shocked, and
saying, "No, I won't look at her," ran away
frightened, lest she should think I laughed at her,
which Mrs. Thrale did so openly, that, as I told
her, had she served me so, I should have been
affronted with her ever after.

Miss Streatfleld, however, whether from a
sweetness not to be ruffled, or from not perceiving
there was any room for taking offence, gently wiped
her eyes, and was perfectly composed !

From Miss F. Burney to Mr. Crisp

StreathaMj March 1779.

The kindness and honours I meet with from this
charming family are greater than I can mention ;
sweet Mrs. Thrale hardly suffers me to leave her
a moment ; and Dr. Johnson is another Daddy
Crisp to me, for he has a partial goodness to your
Fannikin, that has made him sink the comparative
shortness of our acquaintance, and treat and think
of me as one who had long laid claim to him.

If you knew these two you would love them,
or I don't know you so well as I think I do. Dr. "1
Johnson has more fun, and comical humour, and
love of nonsense about him, than almost anybody I
ever saw : I mean when with those he likes ; for
otherwise, he can be as severe and as bitter as
report relates him. Mrs. Thrale has all that gaiety
of disposition and lightness of heart, which com-
monly belong to fifteen. We are, therefore, merry
enough, and I am frequently seized with the same
tittering and ridiculous fits as those with which
I have so often amazed and amused poor Kitty
Cooke.

One thing let me not omit of this charming

212 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

woman, which I believe will weigh with you in her
favour ; her political doctrine is so exactly like
yours, that it is never started but I exclaim, " Dear
ma'am, if my Daddy Crisp was here, I believe
between you, you would croak me mad ! " And
this sympathy of horrible foresight not a little con-
tributes to incline her to believe the other parts
of speech with which I regale her concerning you.
She wishes very much to know you, and I am sure
you would hit it off comfortably ; but I told her
what a vile taste you had for shunning all new
acquaintance, and shirking almost all your old ones.
That I may never be among the latter, heartily
hopes my dear daddy's ever affectionate and
obliged, F. B.

Best love to Mrs. Ham * and dear Kitty.

The Same to the Same

Streatham, May 4, 1779.

Oh ! my dear Daddy — Ah ! — alas ! — woe is
me ! — In what terms may I venture to approach
you ? I don't know, but the more I think of it,
the more guilty I feel. I have a great mind,
instead of tormenting you with apologies, and
worrying myself with devising them, to tell you
the plain, honest, literal truth. Indeed, I have no
other way any chance of obtaining your forgiveness
for my long silence. Honestly, then, my time has,
ever since the receipt of your most excellent letter,
been not merely occupied, but burthened, with
much employment. I have lived almost wholly at
Streatham, and the little time I have spent at
home, has been divided between indispensable
engagements, and preparations for returning hither.

1 Mrs. Hamilton. See Editor's Introduction, p. 11.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 213

But you will say there is no occasion to exert
much honesty in owning this much ; therefore now
to the secret of the disposal of my private hours.
The long and the short is, I have devoted them to
writing, and I have finished a play.1 I must entreat
you, my dearest daddy, to keep this communication
to yourself, or, at least, if you own it to Kitty,
whose long friendship for me I am sure deserves
my confidence, make her vow not to reveal it to
anybody whatsoever.

This is no capricious request, as I will explain ;
my own secret inclination leads me forcibly and
involuntarily to desire concealment ; but that is
not all, for Dr. Johnson2 himself enjoins it; he
says, that nothing can do so much mischief to a
dramatic work as previous expectation, and that
my wisest way will be to endeavour to have it per-
formed before it is known, except to the managers,
to be written.

I am extremely sorry you decline my three
characters at a time, as I have nothing better to
offer you. Journal I have kept none, nor had any
time for such sort of writing. In my absences
from Susan, I have, indeed, occasionally made
essays in that style ; but they are very imperfect,
uncertain, and abrupt. However, such sketches as
she has had I will borrow of her for you, if, after all
my transgression, you are not sick both of me and
my affairs.

The paragraph you saw in the papers concerning
a lady's first attempt in the dramatic walk, meant
a Miss Richardson, of Tower Hill, who has just
brought out a play called The Double Deception*

I wish with all my heart it was in my power to
take a trip to Chessington for a few days ; I have

1 The Witlings, see post, July 1779. 2 See ante, p. 208.

3 The Double Deception, 1779, a comedy, was produced at Drury Lane,
ran four nights, and was not printed.

214 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

so many things I long to talk over, and I wish so
sincerely to see you again. The homely home, as
you call it, will never be forgotten while I keep
aloof from my last home.

But I forgot to mention, that another and a
very great reason for secrecy in regard to my new
attempt, is what you have yourself mentioned —
avoiding the interference of the various Maecenases
who would expect to be consulted. Of these, I
could not confide in one without disobliging all the
rest ; and I could not confide in all, without having
the play read all over the town before it is acted.
Mrs. Montagu, Mrs. Greville, Mrs. Crewe, Sir
Joshua Reynolds, Mrs. Cholmondeley, and many
inferior etc.'s, think they have an equal claim, one
with the other, to my confidence : and the conse-
quence of it all would be, that, instead of having
it, in your words, all my own, and all of a piece,
everybody would have a stroke at it, and it would
become a mere patchwork of all my acquaintance.
The only way to avoid this, is to keep to myself
that such a thing exists. Those to whom I have
owned it seem all of the same opinion, and I am
resolutely determined to own it no more.

Evelina continues to sell in a most wonderful
manner ; a fourth edition is preparing, with cuts,
designed by Mortimer just before he died, and
executed by Hall and Bartolozzi.1

Journal resumed

Streatham, Friday, May. — Once more, my
dearest Susy, I will attempt journalising, and

1 John Hamilton Mortimer, A.R.A., d. February 4, 1779. His draw-
ings, three in number, and still existent, were engraved by Bartolozzi,
Hall, and Walker. The plates are dated November 24, 1779, after which
time the fourth edition must have appeared. Lowndes, the publisher,
gave £73 for them, being £43 more than he had given for the book they
"embellished."

Frontispiece to Vol. III. of Evelina, 1779

1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 215

endeavour, according to my promise, to keep up
something of the kind during our absence, however
brief and curtailed.

[We took up Sir Philip Jennings Clerke at
some coffee-house in our way, and two armed men
met us at the Piccadilly turnpike, and, so guarded,
we got there very safe, but not till past one in the
morning. Sir Philip left us the next day at noon,
but we shall see him again when we return from
Brighthelmstone. ]

To - day, while Mrs. Thrale was chatting with
me in my room, we saw Mr. Murphy drive into
the courtyard. Downstairs flew Mrs. Thrale, but,
in a few minutes, up she flew again, crying,

" Mr. Murphy is crazy for your play — he won't
let me rest for it — do pray let me run away with
the first act."

Little as I like to have it seen in this unfinished
state, she was too urgent to be resisted, so off she
made with it.

I did not show my phiz till I was summoned to
dinner. Mr. Murphy, probably out of flummery,
made us wait some minutes, and, when he did
come, said,

" I had much ado not to keep you all longer,
for I could hardly get away from some new
acquaintances I was just making."

As he could not stay to sleep here, he had only
time, after dinner, to finish the first act. He was
pleased to commend it very liberally ; he has
pointed out two places where he thinks I might
enlarge, but has not criticised one word ; on the
contrary, the dialogue he has honoured with high
praise.

So far is well : what may be yet to come, I
know not. Further particulars I shall write to my
dear Padre himself.

Oh — but — shall I tell you something? — yes,

216 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

though you won't care a fig ; but I have had my
lesson in Latin.1 Dr. Johnson tutored Miss Thrale
while I was with you, and was set off for Litch-
field before I came ; but Mrs. Thrale attended
the lecture, and has told me every word of it she
could recollect : so we must both be ready for him
against his return. I heartily wish I rejoiced more
sincerely in this classical plan. But the truth is, I
have more fear of the malignity which will follow
its being known, than delight in what advantages
it may afford. All my delight, indeed, is that this
great and good man should think me worthy his
instructions.

Brighthelmstone,2 May 26. — I have not had a
moment for writing, my dear Susy, since I came
hither, till now, for we have been perpetually
engaged either with sights or company ; for not-
withstanding this is not the season, here are
folks enough to fill up time from morning to
evening.

The road from Streatham hither is beautiful ;
Mr., Mrs., Miss Thrale, and Miss Susan Thrale,
and I, travelled in a coach, with four horses, and
two of the servants in a chaise, besides two men on
horseback ; so we were obliged to stop for some
time at three places on the road.3

Reigate, the first town, is a very old, half-
ruined borough, in a most neglected condition.
A high hill, leading to it, afforded a very fine
prospect, of the Malvern Hill nature, though
inferior.

[We amused ourselves while we waited here, at
a bookseller's shop, where Mrs. Thrale inquired if
they had got the book she had recommended to
them. "Yes, ma'am," was the answer, "and it's

1 These Latin lessons were soon discontinued.

2 The old name for Brighton. But the writer uses both (see post, June
10, 1780).

3 This gives a good idea of the former methods of travelling.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 217

always out, — the ladies like it vastly." I suppose
I need not tell you what it was ?]

At Cuckfield, which is in Sussex, and but
fourteen miles hence, we dined.

[It is a clean and pretty town, and we passed all
the time we rescued from eating in the churchyard,
where I copied four epitaphs in my tablets, — and
you shall have them.

First :

Lord, thou hast pointed out my life

In length much like a span ;
My age was nothing unto Thee,

So vain is every man.

The second was :

An indulgent husband, and friend sincere,
And a neighbourly man lies buried here.

The third was upon a young wife :

Not twelve months were passed after our wedding day,

But death in come, and from a loving husband took me away.

The fourth, upon a young couple, who both
died soon after marriage :

Repent in time, make no delay,

We after each other were soon called away.

So, you see, the dabblers have not been idle in
the noble town of Cuckfield.]

The view of the South Downs from Cuckfield
to this place is very curious and singular. We got
home by about nine o'clock. Mr. Thrale's house
is in West Street,1 which is the court end of the
town here as well as in London. 'Tis a neat, small
house, and I have a snug, comfortable room to
myself. The sea is not many yards from our

1 It is No. 64 in the Brighthelmston Directory for 1800, when it belonged
to Esther Thrale (Queenie). There is a sketch of it at page 7 of Bishop's
Brighton in the Olden Time, 1892.

218 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

windows. Our journey was delightfully pleasant,
the day being heavenly, the roads in fine order, the
prospects charming, and everybody good-humoured
and cheerful.

Thursday, — We pass our time here most delect-
ably. This dear and most sweet family grow daily
more kind to me ; and all of them contrive to make
me of so much consequence, that I can now no
more help being easy than, till lately, I could help
being embarrassed. Mrs. Thrale has, indeed, from
the first moment of our acquaintance, been to me
all my heart could wish ; and now her husband and
daughter gain ground in my good grace and favour
every day.

Just before we went to dinner, a chaise drove
up/ to the door, and from it issued Mr. Murphy.
He met with a very joyful reception ; and Mr.
Thrale, for the first time in his life, said he was
44 a good fellow" : for he makes it a sort of rule
to salute him with the title of " scoundrel," or
" rascal." They are very old friends ; and I ques-
tion if Mr. Thrale loves any man so well.

[He made me many very flattering speeches, of
his eagerness to go on with my play, to know what
became of the several characters, and to what place
I should next conduct them ; assuring me that the
first act had run in his head ever since he had
read it.]

In the evening we all adjourned to Major

H 's, where, besides his own family, we found

Lord Mordaunt, son to the Earl of Peterborough,
— a pretty, languid, tonnish young man ; Mr.
Fisher, who is said to be a scholar, but is nothing
enchanting as a gentleman ; young Fitzgerald,
as much the thing as ever ; and Mr. Lucius
Concannon.

Mr. Murphy was the life of the party : he was

1779 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 219

in good spirits, and extremely entertaining ; he told
a million of stories, admirably well ; but stories
won't do upon paper, therefore I shall not attempt
to present you with them.

This morning, as soon as breakfast was over,
Mr. Murphy said, " I must now go to the seat by
the seaside, with my new set of acquaintance, from
whom I expect no little entertainment."

" Ay," said Mrs. Thrale, " and there you'll find
us all ! I believe this rogue means me for Lady
Smatter ; but Mrs. Voluble 1 must speak the epi-
logue, Mr. Murphy."

"That must depend upon who performs the
part," answered he.

" Don't talk of it now," cried I, " for Mr. Thrale
knows nothing of it."

" I think," cried Mr. Murphy, " you might touch
upon his character in Censor.'" 2

" Ay," cried Mr. Thrale, " I expect a knock
some time or other ; but, when it comes, I'll carry
all my myrmidons to catcall it ! "

Mr. Murphy then made me fetch him the second
Act, and marched off with it.

We had a very grand dinner to-day (though
nothing to a Streatham dinner) at the Ship
Tavern,3 where the officers mess, to which we were
invited by the major and captain. All the officers I

have mentioned, and three or four more, the H 's,

Miss Forth, Lord Mordaunt, Messieurs Murphy,
Fisher, and Fitzgerald, Dr. Delap,4 and our own
party, made an immensely formidable appearance.

1 These are characters in The Witlings.

2 A character in The Witlings.

3 The Old Ship Tavern in Ship Street (No. 46), at this date kept by
John Hicks. It was the business house of the town.

4 Dr. John Delap, 1725-1812, incumbent of Wool Lavington, Sussex.
He was writing a play called Macaria on the story of the widow and
daughter of Hercules, probably that produced at Drury Lane in 1781 as
The Royal Suppliants, and based upon the Heraclidce of Euripides. See
post, pp. 222, 224.

220 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

Dr. Delap arrived in the morning, and is to stay
two days. He is too silent for me to form much
judgment of his companionable talents, and his
appearance is snug and reserved. Mrs. Thrale is
reading his play, and likes it much. It is to come
out next season. It is droll enough that there
should be, at this time, a tragedy and comedy in
exactly the same situation, placed so accidentally
in the same house.

We afterwards went on the parade, where the
soldiers1 were mustering, and found Captain
Fuller's men all half intoxicated, and laughing so
violently as we past by them, that they could
hardly stand upright. The captain stormed at
them most angrily ; but, turning to us said,
" These poor fellows have just been paid their
arrears, and it is so unusual to them to have a
sixpence in their pockets, that they know not how
to keep it there."

The wind being extremely high, our caps and
gowns were blown about most abominably ; and
this increased the risibility of the merry light
infantry. Captain Fullers desire to keep order
made me laugh, as much as the men's incapacity
to obey him ; for, finding our flying drapery pro-
voked their mirth, he went up to the biggest
grinner, and, shaking him violently by the
shoulders, said, " What do you laugh for, sirrah ?
do you laugh at the ladies ? " and, as soon as he
had given the reprimand, it struck him to be so
ridiculous, that he was obliged to turn quick
round, and commit the very fault he was attacking
most furiously.

I broke off where we were all assembled on
Thursday, — which, by the way, is exactly opposite
to the inn in which Charles II. hid himself after

1 The Sussex militia. See post, p. 223.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 221

the battle of Worcester, previously to his escaping
from the kingdom.1 So I fail not to look at it with
loyal satisfaction: and his black -wigged majesty
has, from the time of the Restoration, been its
sign.

After tea, the bishop,2 his lady, Lord Mordaunt,

and Mrs. H seated themselves to play at whist ;

and Mr. Murphy, coming up to me, said,

" I have had no opportunity, Miss Burney, to
tell you how much I have been entertained this
morning, but I have a great deal to say to you
about it ; I am extremely pleased with it, indeed.
The dialogue is charming ; and the "

"What's that?" cried Mrs. Thrale. "Mr.
Murphy always flirting with Miss Burney ? And
here, too, where everybody's watched ! "

And she cast her eyes towards Mrs. H , who

is as censorious a country lady as ever locked up
all her ideas in a country town. She has told us
sneering anecdotes of every woman and every
officer in Brighthelmstone.

Mr. Murphy, checked by Mrs. Thrale's exclama-
tion, stopt the conversation, and said he must run
away, but would return in half-an-hour.

" Don't expect, however, Miss Burney," he said,
" I shall bring with me what you are thinking of ;
no, I can't part with it yet ! "

" What ! at it again ! " cried Mrs. Thrale. " This
flirting is incessant ; but it's all to Mr. Murphy's
credit."

Mrs. Thrale told me afterwards, that she made
these speeches to divert the attention of the com-
pany from our subject ; for that she found they
were all upon the watch the moment Mr. Murphy
addressed me, and that the bishop and his lady

1 The King's Head in West Street (No. 8) ; but its connection with his
44 black-wigged majesty " is very doubtful.

2 Bishop of Peterborough. See post, p. 222.

222 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

almost threw down their cards, from eagerness to
discover what he meant.

I am now more able to give you some sketch of
Dr. Delap ; and as he is coming into the world
next winter, in my own walk, and, like me, for the
first time, you may shake us together when I have
drawn him, and conjecture our fates.
C He is commonly and naturally grave, silent, and
absent ; but when any subject is once begun upon
which he has anything to say, he works it thread-
bare, yet hardly seems to know, when all is over,
what, or whether anything, has passed. He is a
man, as I am told by those who know, of deep
learning, but totally ignorant of life and manners.
As to his person and appearance, they are much in
the John-trot1 style. He seems inclined to be
particularly civil to me ; but not knowing how,
according to the general forms, he has only shown
his inclination by perpetual offers to help me at
dinner, and repeated exclamations at my not eating
more profusely.

So much for my brother- dramatist. J

The supper was very gay : Mrs. Thrale was in
high spirits, and her wit flashed with incessant
brilliancy ; Mr. Murphy told several stories with
admirable humour ; and the Bishop of Peter-
borough was a worthy third in contributing to-
wards general entertainment. He turns out most
gaily sociable. Mrs. H. was discussed, and, poor
lady, not very mercifully.

Mrs. Thrale said she lived upon the Steyn, for
the pleasure of viewing, all day long, who walked
with who, how often the same persons were seen
together, and what visits were made by gentlemen
to ladies, or ladies to gentlemen.

" She often tells me," said the captain, " of my

1 "John-Trot" is used here for "commonplace," "ordinary." The
phrase is employed by Foote, Chesterfield, Walpole, and Goldsmith.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF ' EVELINA' 223

men. ' Oh,' she says, * Captain Fuller, your men
are always after the ladies ! ' "

"Nay," cried Mrs. Thrale, "I should have
thought the officers might have contented her ;
but if she takes in the soldiers too, she must have
business enough ! "

" Oh, she gets no satisfaction by her complaints ;
for I only say, * Why, ma'am, we are all young ! —
all young and gay ! — and how can we do better
than follow the ladies ? ' "

"After all," returned Mrs. Thrale, "I believe
she can talk of nothing else, and therefore we must
forgive her."

Friday, May 28.

In the morning, before breakfast, came Dr.
Delap ; and Mrs. Thrale, in ambiguous terms,
complimented him upon his play, and expressed
her wish that she might tell me of it ; upon which
hint he instantly took the manuscript from his
pocket, and presented it to me, begging me, at
the same time, to tell him of any faults that I
might meet with in it.

There, Susy ! am I not grown a grand person ;
not merely looked upon as a writer, but addressed
as a critic ! Upon my word this is fine !

By the way, it is really amazing the fatigue
these militia officers go through, without compul-
sion or interest, to spur them. Major H. is a man
of at least £8000 a year, and has a noble seat in
this county, and quits ease, pleasure, retirement
in the country, and public diversions in London,
to take the charge of the Sussex militia ! Captain
Fuller, too, has an estate of £4000 or £5000 a
year — is but just of age — has figure, understanding,
education, vivacity, and independence — and yet
voluntarily devotes almost all his time, and almost
all his attention, to a company of light infantry.

224 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

Instances such as these, my dear Susy, ought to
reconcile all the penniless sons of toil and industry
to their cares and labours ; since those whom afflu-
ence invites to all the luxuries of indolence, sicken
of those very gifts which the others seem only to
exist to procure.

As soon as we returned home, I seized Dr.
Delap's play. It is called Macaria. Mr. Thrale,
who frequently calls me Queen Dido, from a
notion that I resemble an actress in France who
performed that part,1 and from a general idea of
my having a theatrical turn, was mightily diverted
at this oddly-timed confidence of Dr. Delap, and,
tapping at my door, called out, " Queen Dido, what !
rehearsing still ? Why, I think you should tip the
doctor the same compliment ! "

I could only read the first Act before dinner.
Mrs. Thrale came to me while I was dressing, and
said, " Murphy is quite charmed with your second
Act : he says he is sure it will do, and more than
do. He has been talking of you this half-hour :
he calls you a sly designing body, and says you
look all the people through most wickedly ; he
watches you, and vows he has caught you in the
fact. Nobody and nothing, he says, escapes you,
and you keep looking round for characters all day
long. And Dr. Delap has been talking of you."

" I hope he does not suspect the play ? "

" Why, he would not tell ! "

" Oh, but I should be sorry to put it in his
power ! "

"Why, he's such an absent creature, that if
he were to hear it to-day he would forget it
to-morrow."

" No, as he is engaged in the same pursuit

1 Perhaps Mile. Clairon, who was great as " Dido," or Mile. Dumesnil,
from whom Mrs. Woffington learned so much.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF « EVELINA' 225

himself at this very time, I believe he would
remember it."

" Well, it's too late, however, now, for he knows
it ; but I did not tell him ; Murphy did ; he broke
out into praises of the second Act before him.
But he'll tell nobody, depend upon it," continued
she ; "it only put him upon asking one a hundred
questions about you, and singing your praise ; he
has teased me all the morning about your family,
and how many sisters and brothers you have, and
if you were Dr. Burney's daughter, and a million
more inquiries."

During dinner, I observed that Mr. Murphy
watched me almost incessantly, with such archness
of countenance that I could hardly look at him,
and Dr. Delap did the same, with an earnestness
of gravity that was truly solemn — till Mr. Murphy,
catching my eye, said,

"We have been talking of you — ask Mrs.
Thrale what I say of you — I have found out your
schemes, shy as you are. Dr. Delap, too, heard
how I discovered you."

" Oh, but Dr. Delap," answered Mrs. Thrale,
" is the best man in the world for discoveries — for
he'll forget every word by to-morrow — shan't you,
Dr. Delap?"

" Not Miss Burney ! " cried the doctor gallantly,
" I'm sure I shan't forget Miss Burney ! "

When Mrs. Thrale gave the signal for our
leaving the gentlemen, Dr. Delap, as I past him,
said in a whisper, " Have you read it ? "

" No, not quite."

" How do you like it ? "

I could make but one answer. How strangely
ignorant of the world is this good clergyman, to
ask such a question so abruptly !

AVe were engaged to finish the evening at Major

VOL. i Q

226 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

H 's, but as I feared hurting Dr. Delap by any

seeming indifference, I begged Mrs. Thrale to let
me stay at home till I had read his play, and,
therefore, the rest of the party went before me.

I had, however, only three Acts in my posses-
sion. The story is of the daughter and widow of
Hercules — and, indeed, I liked the play much
better than I expected to do. The story is such
as renders the author's ignorance of common life
and manners not very material, since the characters
are of the Heroic age, and therefore require more
classical than worldly knowledge, and, accordingly,
its only resemblance is to the tragedies of iEschylus
and Sophocles.

Saturday, May 29.

[Early in the morning, the kind Mrs. Thrale
brought me your letter, saying, " Here, — here's
news from home ! My master would have had
me keep it till breakfast ; but I told him he^ did
not love you so well as I did ; he vowed that was
not true, — but it's plain it was, for I was in most
haste to make you happy."]

After breakfast, Mrs. and Miss Thrale took me
to Widget's, the milliner and library- woman on the
Steyn. After a little dawdling conversation, Cap-
tain Fuller came in to have a little chat. He said
he had just gone through a great operation — " I
have been," he said, " cutting off the hair of all my
men."

"And why?"

" Why, the Duke of Richmond l ordered that
it should be done, and the fellows swore that they
would not submit to it, — so I was forced to be the
operator myself. I told them they would look as
smart again when they had got on their caps ; but

1 Charles Lennox, 1735-1806, third Duke of Richmond and Lennox,
was Lord-Lieutenant of Sussex.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 227

it went much against them, they vowed, at first,
they would not bear such usage ; some said they
would sooner be run through the body, and others,
that the Duke should as soon have their heads.
I told them I would soon try that, and fell to work
myself with them."

" And how did they bear it ? "

" Oh, poor fellows, with great good -nature,
when they found his honour was their barber : but
I thought proper to submit to hearing all their
oaths, and all their jokes ; for they had no other
comfort but to hope I should have enough of it,
and such sort of wit. Three or four of them, how-
ever, escaped, but I shall find them out. I told
them I had a good mind to cut my own hair off
too, and then they would have a Captain Crop. I
shall soothe them to-morrow with a present of
new feathers for all their caps."

[Presently we were joined by Dr. Delap and
Mr. Murphy. The latter, taking me aside, said,

" Has Mrs. Thrale told you what I said ? "

" 1 don't know, — she has told me some odd sort
of — nonsense, I was going to say."

" But, do you know the name I have settled to
call you by ? "

"No."

" Miss Slyboots ! — that is exactly the thing ! —
Oh, you are a wicked one ! — I have found you
out!"

" Oh, to be sure ! but pray, now, don't tell such
a name about, for if you give it, it will soon
spread."

Then he began upon the second Act ; but I
feared being suspected, and stole away from him.]

Different occupations, in a short time, called
away all our gentlemen but Dr. Delap ; and he,
seating himself next me, began to question me
about his tragedy. I soon said all I wanted to

228 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

say upon the subject, — and, soon after, a great
deal more, — but not soon after was he satisfied ;
he returned to the same thing a million of times,
asked the same questions, exacted the same com-
pliments, and worked at the same passages, till I
almost fell asleep with the sound of the same
words ; and at last, with what little animation was
left me, I contrived to make Miss Thrale propose
a walk on the Steyn, and crawling out of the shop,
I sought, — and found, — revival from the breezes.
[Yet not before he had planned a meeting at
Streatham, where a council, composed of Dr.
Johnson, Mr. Murphy, and Mrs. Thrale are to sit
upon the play for oral judgment, and where, at his
express desire, I am to make one. This is to take
place some time before the Spa journey.

Sunday, May 30. — Just as I was finishing my
attire for dinner, I saw Captain Fuller drive past
my window in his phaeton, and stop at the door.
He had not time to alight. I went downstairs as
soon as I was ready, and found the three Thrales,
Mr. Murphy, and Mr. Michell crowding the door
to take leave of him. He kissed his hand to me
with a military air, and wishing me good-morning,
drove away. I mention this because it comes into
play afterwards.

In the middle of the dinner, Mr. Michell, who
had scarce opened his mouth to me twice before,
turned to me abruptly, and very gravely said :

" Pray, Miss Burney, where is Captain Fuller

n 55*

going i

" To London, I believe, sir."

"Dear," said Mrs. Thrale, "how odd Mr.
Michell is ! what should make him ask Miss
Burney ? "

" Why, ma'am," said he, " a very obvious reason,
— I thought her most likely to know."

" And why should you think that, sir ? " quoth I.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 229

" Because I observed he would not go till he
had seen you. I saw very plainly — he is a fine
young man, and I think "

"I think," cried Mrs. Thrale, "he could not
show his taste more ! And he is so amiable and
so sensible, that I wish neither Queeny, nor Miss
Burney, nor Miss Brown worse luck."

" It is presumed, ma'am," said Mr. Michell,
" that he is now gone to town to wait upon Dr.
Burney, — such, at least, is the Brighthelmstone
report."

"Well," said Mrs. Thrale, "but seriously
though — before you came down, when I said,
remember you are engaged at Streatham for the
10th, 11th, and 12th, he said, * Will Miss Burney
be there ? ' "

What strange and absurd rubbish !

Sunday evening we had the bishop, his lady,
and Mr. Murphy ; and Right Reverend and all
were most outrageously merry.

Dr. Delap is returned to Lewes ; and he bored
Mr. Murphy and Miss Thrale by asking so many
questions of how I came to write Evelina, and why
I writ it at all, and what set me on, and other such
curious inquiries, that, at last, they almost lost all
patience with him.]

Streatham, June 12. — Now, my dear Susan, hard
and fast — let me write up to the present time.

I left you all, as you truly say, on Saturday, in
no very high spirits. Mrs. Thrale's visible uneasi-
ness and agitation quite alarmed me. I dared ask
her no questions ; but, soon after we drove off, Sir
Philip Gierke gently and feelingly led to the sub-
ject, and, in the course of our ride, got from her
all the particulars of poor Mr. Thrale's dreadful
and terrifying attack.

I find, with true concern, that it was un-
doubtedly a paralytic stroke. He was taken ill at

230 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

his sister's, Mrs. Nesbitt' s,1 during dinner ; he did
not absolutely fall, but his head sank upon the
table, and, as soon as he was able to raise it, they
found that his reason had left him ; he talked
wildly, and seemed to know nobody. Mrs. Nesbitt
brought him home ; he was much better before
Dr. Bromfield could be fetched ; yet, for three days
afterwards, his senses, at intervals, were frightfully
impaired.

When we stopped here, Sir Philip immediately
went to Mr. Thrale, but I ran past the door, and
up to my own room, for I quite dreaded seeing
him till I had prepared myself to meet him with-
out any seeming concern, as I was told that he
was extremely suspicious of being thought in any
danger. I dawdled away about an hour, and then
asked Miss Thrale to accompany me into the
parlour.

Mr. Thrale was there, with Sir Philip, Mr.
Seward, and Captain Fuller. I endeavoured to
enter, and behave as if nothing had happened.
I saw Mr. Thrale fix his eyes upon me with an
inquisitive and melancholy earnestness, as if to
read my opinion : indeed, his looks were vastly
better than I expected, but his evident dejection
quite shocked me. I did not dare go up to him,
for if he had offered to shake hands with me, I
believe I should have been unable to disguise my
concern ; for, indeed, he has of late made himself
a daily increasing interest in my regard and kind
wishes. I, therefore, turned short from him, and,
pretending earnest talk with Miss Thrale, went to
one of the windows.

At dinner everybody tried to be cheerful ; but
a dark and gloomy cloud hangs over the head of
poor Mr. Thrale which no flashes of merriment or

1 Mrs. Nesbitt (afterwards Mrs. Scott). Thrale had three other sisters,
Mrs. Rice, Lady Lade, and Mrs. Plumbe.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF ' EVELINA' 231

beams of wit can pierce through ; yet he seems
pleased that everybody should be gay, and desirous
to be spoken to, and of, as usual.

[At tea we had the company of Dr. and Mrs.
Parker. I think I have mentioned them before.
By chance I was about ten minutes alone with the
Doctor in the parlour, who, with a formality that
accompanies whatever he says, slowly observed,

" So, they are gone, — and I am now left alone
with thee, Evelina ! "

I instantly started some other subject, in order
to stop him ; but, with the same gravity, he,
nevertheless, chose to continue.

"You have gained great esteem, great esteem,
indeed, in the world, by that performance ! "

" The world," cried I, " is sometimes taken with
a very kind fit ; I'm sure it has in regard to that
poor book ! "

1 No, not so, — only with a judicious fit ! "

And then he proceeded with formal compliments
till we were joined by the rest of the company.

After tea the Parkers left us, and we walked
round the grounds. We now walk as much as
possible, in order to seduce Mr. Thrale to take
exercise, which is not only the best, but the only
thing for him.]

Sunday \ June 13. — After church, we all strolled
round the grounds, and the topic of our discourse
was Miss Streatfield. Mrs. Thrale asserted that she
had a power of captivation that was irresistible ;
that her beauty, joined to her softness, her caressing
manners, her tearful eyes, and alluring looks, would
insinuate her into the heart of any man she thought
worth attacking.

Sir Philip declared himself of a totally different
opinion, and quoted Dr. Johnson against her, who
had told him that, taking away her Greek, she was
as ignorant as a butterfly.

232 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

Mr. Seward declared her Greek was all against
her with him, for that, instead of reading Pope,
Swift, or the Spectator — books from which she
might derive useful knowledge and improvement —
it had led her to devote all her reading time to the
first eight books of Homer.

" But," said Mrs. Thrale, " her Greek, you must
own, has made all her celebrity ; — you would have
heard no more of her than of any other pretty girl,
but for that."

"What I object to," said Sir Philip, "is her
avowed preference for this parson.1 Surely it is
very indelicate in any lady to let all the world
know with whom she is in love ! "

" The parson," said the severe Mr. Seward, " I
suppose, spoke first, — or she would as soon have
been in love with you, or with me ! "

You will easily believe I gave him no pleasant
look. He wanted me to slacken my pace, and tell
him, in confidence, my private opinion of her ; but
I told him, very truly, that as I knew her chiefly by
account, not by acquaintance, I had not absolutely
formed my opinion.

" Were I to live with her four days," said this
odd man, " I believe the fifth I should want to take
her to church."

" You'd be devilish tired of her, though," said
Sir Philip, "in half a year. A crying wife will
never do ! "

" Oh yes," cried he, " the pleasure of soothing
her would make amends."

" Ah," cried Mrs. Thrale, " I would insure her
power of crying herself into any of your hearts she
pleased. I made her cry to Miss Burney,2 to show
how beautiful she looked in tears."

1 Dr. W. Vyse, rector of Lambeth. See post, vol. ii. under date
Friday, January 10, 1783.

2 See ante, p. 210.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 233

" If I had been her," said Mr. Seward, " I would
never have visited you again."

"Oh, but she liked it," answered Mrs. T., "for
she knows how well she does it. Miss Burney
would have run away, but she came forward on
purpose to show herself. I would have done so by
nobody else ; but Sophy Streatfield is never happier
than when the tears trickle from her fine eyes in
company."

" Suppose, Miss Burney," said Mr. Seward, " we
make her the heroine of our comedy ? 1 and call it
* Hearts have at ye all ! ' "

" Excellent ! " cried I, " it can't be better."

" Tell me, then — what situations you will have ?
But stay, I have another name that I think will do
very well for a comedy, — ' Everything a Bore.' " 2

" Oh, mighty well ! and you shall be the hero ! "
cried I.

" Well said, Miss Burney ! " cried Mrs. Thrale ;
" and pray let his name be Mr. Chagrin."

Well, indeed, did she name him ; for I think his
ennui, his sickness of the world and its inhabitants,
grows more and more obvious every day. He is,
indeed, a melancholy instance of the inefficacy of
fortune, talents, education, wit, and benevolence
united, to render any man happy whose mind has
not a native disposition of content.

At dinner we had three persons added to our
company, — my dear father, Miss Streatfield, and
Miss Brown.

Well -selected, gay, good-humoured, and un-
commonly agreeable as was the whole society, the
day failed of being happy ; for Mr. Thrale's extreme
seriousness and lowness, and Mrs. Thrale's agitated
and struggling cheerfulness, spread a degree of
gravity and discomfort over us, that, though they

1 See post, p. 241.
2 This sounds like an anticipation of Charles Mathews's Used Up.

234 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

prevented not partial and occasional sallies, totally
banished our accustomed general and continued
gaiety.

Miss Brown, however, as you may remember I
foresaw, proved the queen of the day. Miss Streat-
field requires longer time to make conquests. She
is, indeed, much more really beautiful than Fanny
Brown ; but Fanny Brown is much more showy,
and her open, good-humoured, gay, laughing face
inspires an almost immediate wish of conversing
and merry-making with her. Indeed, the two days
she spent here have raised her greatly in my regard.
She is a charming girl, and so natural, and easy,
and sweet-tempered, that there is no being half an
hour in her company without ardently wishing her
well.

Monday, June 14, proved far more lively and
comfortable. Mr. Thrale daily looks somewhat
better ; and his sweet wife's natural spirits and
happiness insensibly, though not uniformly, return.

At breakfast, our party was Sir Philip, Mr.
Fuller, Miss Streatfield, Miss Brown, the Thrales,
and I.

The first office performed was dressing Miss
Brown. She had put on bright jonquil ribbons.
Mrs. Thrale exclaimed against them immediately ;
Mr. Fuller half joined her, and away she went, and
brought green ribbons of her own, which she made
Miss Brown run upstairs with to put on. This
she did with the utmost good-humour : but dress
is the last thing in which she excels ; for she has
lived so much abroad, and so much with foreigners
at home, that she never appears habited as an
Englishwoman, nor as a high-bred foreigner, but
rather as an Italian opera-dancer ; and her wild,
careless, giddy manner, her loud hearty laugh, and
general negligence of appearance, contribute to give
her that air and look. I like her so much, that I

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 235

am quite sorry she is not better advised, either by
her own or some friend's judgment.

Miss Brown, however, was queen of the break-
fast : for though her giddiness made everybody
take liberties with her, her good -humour made
everybody love her, and her gaiety made every-
body desirous to associate with her. Sir Philip
played with her as with a young and sportive
kitten ; Mr. Fuller laughed and chatted with her ;
and Mr. Seward, when here, teases and torments
her. The truth is, he cannot bear her, and she, in
return, equally fears and dislikes him, but still she
cannot help attracting his notice.

We then all walked out, and had a very delightful
stroll : but, in returning, one of the dogs (we have
twelve, I believe, belonging to the house) was de-
tected pursuing the sheep on the common. Miss
Thrale sent one of the men after him, and he was
seized to be punished. The poor creature's cries
were so dreadful, that I took to my feet and ran
away.

When, after all was over, they returned to the
house, the saucy Captain Fuller, as soon as he saw
me, exclaimed, " Oh, some hartshorn ! some harts-
horn for Miss Burney ! "

I instantly found he thought me guilty of
affectation ; and the drollery of his manner made
it impossible to be affronted with his accusation ;
therefore I took the trouble to try to clear myself,
but know not how I succeeded. I assured him
that if my staying could have answered any pur-
pose, I would have compelled myself to hear the
screams, and witness the correction, of the offend-
ing animal ; but that as that was not the case, I
saw no necessity for giving myself pain officiously.

" But I'll tell you," cried he, " my reason for not
liking that ladies should run away from all disagree-
able sights : I think that if they are totally unused

236 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

to them, whenever any accident happens, they are
not only helpless, but worse, for they scream and
faint, and get out of the way ; when, if they were
not so frightened, they might be of some service.
I was with a lady the other day, when a poor
fellow was brought into her house half-killed : but,
instead of doing him any good, she only shrieked,
and called out — 'Oh! mercy on me!' and ran away."

There was an honesty so characteristic in this
attack, that I took very serious pains to vindicate
myself, and told him that, if I had any knowledge
of myself, I could safely affirm that, in any case
similar to what he mentioned, instead of running
away, I should myself, if no abler person were at
hand, have undertaken not merely to see, but to
bind the man's wounds : nor, indeed, can I doubt
but I should.

While we were dressing, Mr. Seward returned ;
he had postponed his journey to Cornwall ; and,
before dinner, Dr. Delap arrived from Lewes.

Mr. Seward's ennui coming under consideration,
Mrs. Thrale asked us if he was not the Pococurante1
in Candide.

Not one of us had read it.

"What!" cried Mr. Seward, "have not you,
Miss Burney ? "

" No, never."

" Well," said Mrs. Thrale, " I am quite amazed
at that ! I did not expect Dr. Delap or Sophy
Streatfield to have read it ; but how you missed
it I do wonder."

" Miss Streatfield," said Mr. Seward, " I dare-
say, never reads but in form — finishes one book
before she will look at another, and spreads a green
cloth on her table, and sets to it in earnest."

" Perhaps," said Dr. Delap, " Miss Burney, like

1 Signor Pococurante, a noble Venetian, is Voltaire's type of indiffer-
ence (Candide, 1759, ch. xxv.).

1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 237

Dr. Middleton, is in a course of reading, so goes on
regularly."

"No, no," cried Mrs. Thrale, "that is not her
way ; she is a very desultory reader."

" I daresay she is," said Mr. Seward, " and that
makes her so clever."

Candide was then produced, and Mrs. Thrale
read aloud the part concerning Pococurante ; and
really the cap fitted so well, that Mr. Seward
could not attempt to dispute it.

Wednesday, June 16. — We had, at breakfast,
a scene, of its sort, the most curious I ever saw.

The persons were Sir Philip, Mr. Seward, Dr.
Delap,Miss Streatfield, Mrs. and Miss Thrale, and I.

The discourse turning, I know not how, upon
Miss Streatfield, Mrs. Thrale said,

"Ay, I made her cry once for Miss Burney as
pretty as could be : 1 but nobody does cry so pretty
as the S. S. I'm sure, when she cried for Seward,
I never saw her look half so lovely."

"For Seward?" cried Sir Philip; "did she cry
for Seward ? What a happy dog ! I hope she'll
never cry for me, for, if she does, I wont answer
for the consequences ! "

" Seward," said Mrs. Thrale, " had affronted
Johnson, and then Johnson affronted Seward, and
then the S. S. cried."

"Oh," cried Sir Philip, "that I had but been
here ! "

" Nay," answered Mrs. Thrale, " you'd only have
seen how like three fools three sensible persons
behaved : for my part, I was quite sick of it, and
of them, too."

Sir Philip. — But what did Seward do ? was he
not melted ?

Mrs. Thrale. — Not he ; he was thinking only of
his own affront, and taking fire at that.

1 See ante, p. 210.

238 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

Mr. Seward. — Why, yes, I did take fire, for I
went and planted my back to it.

S. S. — And Mrs. Thrale kept stuffing me with
toast-and- water.

Sir Philip. — But what did Seward do with him-
self ? Was not he in ecstasy ? What did he do,
or say ?

Mr. Seward. — Oh, I said pho, pho, don't let's
have any more of this, — it's making it of too much
consequence : no more piping, pray.

Sir Philip. — Well, I have heard so much of
these tears, that I would give the universe to have
a sight of them.

Mrs. Thrale. — Well, she shall cry again if you
like it.

S. S— No, pray, Mrs. Thrale.

Sir Philip. — Oh, pray do ! pray let me see a
little of it.

Mrs. Thrale. — Yes, do cry a little, Sophy (in a
wheedling voice), pray do ! Consider, now, you are
going to-day, and it's very hard if you won't cry a
little : indeed, S. S., you ought to cry.

Now for the wonder of wonders. When Mrs.
Thrale, in a coaxing voice, suited to a nurse soothing
a baby, had run on for some time, — while all the
rest of us, in laughter, joined in the request, — two
crystal tears came into the soft eyes of the S. S.,
and rolled gently down her cheeks ! Such a sight
I never saw before,1 nor could I have believed.
She offered not to conceal or dissipate them : on
the contrary, she really contrived to have them
seen by everybody. She looked, indeed, uncom-
monly handsome ; for her pretty face was not, like
Chloe's, blubbered ; 2 it was smooth and elegant,
and neither her features nor complexion were at

1 Miss Burney forgets. See ante, p. 210.

2 " Dear Cloe, how blubber 'd is that pretty face."

Prior's " Answer to Cloe Jealous."

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 239

all ruffled ; nay, indeed, she was smiling all the
time.

" Look, look ! " cried Mrs. Thrale ; " see if the
tears are not come already."

Loud and rude bursts of laughter broke from
us all at once. How, indeed, could they be re-
strained ? Yet we all stared, and looked and
re-looked again and again, twenty times, ere we
could believe our eyes. Sir Philip, I thought,
would have died in convulsions ; for his laughter
and his politeness, struggling furiously with one
another, made him almost black in the face. Mr.
Seward looked half vexed that her crying for him
was now so much lowered in its flattery, yet
grinned incessantly ; Miss Thrale laughed as much
as contempt would allow her ; but Dr. Delap
seemed petrified with astonishment.

When our mirth abated, Sir Philip, colouring
violently with his efforts to speak, said,

" I thank you, ma'am, I'm much obliged to
you."

But I really believe he spoke without knowing
what he was saying.

" What a wonderful command," said Dr. Delap,
very gravely, " that lady must have over herself ! "

She now took out a handkerchief, and wiped
her eyes.

" Sir Philip," cried Mr. Seward, " how can you
suffer her to dry her own eyes ? — you, who sit next
her?"

"I dare not dry them for her," answered he,
"because I am not the right man."

"But if I sat next her," returned he, " she
should not dry them herself."

" I wish," cried Dr. Delap, " I had a bottle to
put them in ; 'tis a thousand pities they should be
wasted."

" There, now," said Mrs. Thrale, " she looks for

240 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

all the world as if nothing had happened ; for, you
know, nothing has happened ! "

" Would you cry, Miss Burney," said Sir Philip,
" if we asked you ? "

" Oh," cried Mrs. Thrale, " I would not do thus
by Miss Burney for ten worlds ! I daresay she
would never speak to me again. I should think
she'd be more likely to walk out of my house than
to cry because I bid her."

" I don't know how that is," cried Sir Philip ;
"but I'm sure she's gentle enough."

" She can cry, I doubt not," said Mr. Seward,
" on any proper occasion."

"But I must know," said I, "what for."

I did not say this loud enough for the S. S. to
hear me ; but if I had, she would not have taken
it for the reflection it meant. She seemed, the
whole time, totally insensible to the numerous
strange and, indeed, impertinent speeches which
were made, and to be very well satisfied that she
was only manifesting a tenderness of disposition
that increased her beauty of countenance. At least,
I can put no other construction upon her conduct,
which was, without exception, the strangest I ever
saw. Without any pretence of affliction, — to weep
merely because she was bid, though bid in a manner
to forbid any one else, — to be in good spirits all
the time, — to see the whole company expiring of
laughter at her tears, without being at all offended,
— and, at last, to dry them up, and go on with the
same sort of conversation she held before they
started !

What Sir Philip or Mr. Seward privately thought
of this incident I know not yet : but Dr. Delap
said,

" Yes, she has pretty blue eyes, — very pretty
indeed ; she's quite a wonderful miss. If it had
not been for that little gush, I don't know what

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 241

would have become of me. It was very good-
natured of her, really, for she charms and uncharms
in a moment ; she is a bane and an antidote at the
same time."

Then, after considering it more deeply,

" I declare," he said, " I was never so much sur-
prised in my life ! I should as soon have expected
that the dew would fall from heaven because Mrs.
Thrale called for it, as that Miss What-d'ye-call-her
would have cried just because she was asked. But
the thing is — did she cry ? I declare I don't believe
it. Yet I think, at this moment, I saw it, — only
I know it could not be : something of a mist, I
suppose, was before my eyes."

Sunday, June 20. — Dr. Delap stayed here till
yesterday, when he returned to Lewes. He
attacked me before he went, about my comedy,
and said he had some claim to see it. However,
I escaped showing it, though he vows he will come
again, when he is able, on purpose ; but I hope we
shall be set out for Spa.

Mr. Thrale continues, I hope, to get better,
though slowly. While I was sitting with him in
the library, Mr. Seward entered. What is become
of his Cornwall scheme I know not. As soon as
the first inquiries were over, he spoke about what
he calls our comedy, and he pressed and teased me
to set about it. But he grew, in the evening, so
queer, so ennuye, that, in a fit of absurdity, I called
him Mr. Dry ; and the name took so with Mrs.
Thrale, that I know not when he will lose it.
Indeed, there is something in this young man's
alternate drollery and lassitude, entertaining quali-
ties and wearying complaints, that provoke me to
more pertness than I practise to almost anybody.

The play, he said, should have the double title
of " The Indifferent Man, or Everything a Bore " ;
and I protested Mr. Dry should be the hero. And

VOL. i it

242 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

then we ran on, jointly planning a succession of
ridiculous scenes ; — he lashing himself pretty freely,
though not half so freely, or so much to the pur-
pose, as I lashed him ; for I attacked him, through
the channel of Mr. Dry, upon his ennui, his cause-
less melancholy, his complaining languors, his
yawning inattention, and his restless discontent.
You may easily imagine I was in pretty high spirits
to go so far : in truth, nothing else could either
have prompted or excused my facetiousness : and
his own manners are so cavalier, that they always,
with me, stimulate a sympathising return.

He repeatedly begged me to go to work, and
commit the projected scenes to paper : but I
thought that might be carrying the jest too far ;
for as I was in no humour to spare him, written
raillery might, perhaps, have been less to his taste
than verbal.

He challenged me to meet him the next morn-
ing, before breakfast, in the library, that we might
work together at some scenes ; but I thought it as
well to let the matter drop, and did not make my
entry till they were all assembled.

His mind, however, ran upon nothing else ; and,
as soon as we happened to be left together, he
again attacked me.

" Come," said he, " have you nothing ready yet ?
I daresay you have half an act in your pocket.,,

" No," quoth I, " I have quite forgot the whole
business ; I was only in a humour for it last night."

" How shall it begin ? " cried he ; " with Mr. Dry
in his study ? — his slippers just on, his hair about
his ears, — exclaiming, * What a bore is life ! — What
is to be done next ? ' '

" Next ? " cried I ; " what, before he has done
anything at all ? "

" Oh, he has dressed himself, you know. — Well,
then he takes up a book "

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 243

" For example, this," cried I, giving him Claren-
don's History,

He took it up in character, and flinging it away,
cried,

" No, — this will never do, — a history by a party
writer is odious."

I then gave him Robertson's America.

" This," cried he, "is of all reading the most
melancholy ; — an account of possessions we have
lost by our own folly."

I then gave him Baretti's Spanish Travels.1

" Who," cried he, flinging it aside, " can read
travels by a fellow who never speaks a word of
truth?"

Then I gave him a volume of Clarissa.

66 Pho ! " cried he, "a novel writ by a bookseller !
— there is but one novel now one can bear to read,
— and that's written by a young lady."

I hastened to stop him withDalrymple's memoirs,
and then proceeded to give him various others, upon
all which he made severe, splenetic, yet comical
comments ; — and we continued thus employed till
he was summoned to accompany Mr. Thrale to
town.

The next morning, Wednesday, I had some very
serious talk with Mr. Seward, — and such as gave
me no inclination for raillery, though it was con-
cerning his ennui ; on the contrary, I resolved, at
the moment, never to rally him upon that subject
again, for his account of himself filled me with
compassion. He told me that he had never been
well for three hours in a day in his life, and that
when he was thought only tired, he was really so
ill that he believed scarce another man would stay
in company. I was quite shocked at this account,
and told him, honestly, that I had done him so

1 Baretti's by no means uninteresting Journey from London to Genoa,
through England, Portugal, Spain, and France, 1770, 4 vols.

244 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

little justice as to attribute all his languors to
affectation.

When Mrs. Thrale joined us, he told us he had
just seen Dr. Jebb, — Sir Richard, I mean,1 — and
that he had advised him to marry.

" No," cried Mrs. Thrale, " that will do nothing
for you ; but if you should marry, I have a wife for
you."

-Who?" cried he, "the S. S. ?"

" The S. S. — no ? — she's the last person for you,
— her extreme softness, and tenderness, and weep-
ing, would add languor to languor, and irritate all
your disorders ; 'twould be drink to a dropsical
man."

" No, no, — it would soothe me."

" Not a whit ! it would only fatigue you. The
wife for you is Lady Anne Lindsay.2 She has
birth, wit, and beauty, she has no fortune, and she'd
readily accept you ; and she is such a spirit that
she'd animate you, I warrant you ! Oh, she would
trim 3 you well ! You'd be all alive presently.
She'd take all the care of the money affairs, — and
allow you out of them eighteenpence a week !
That's the wife for you!"

Mr. Seward was no means " agreeable " to the
proposal ; he turned the conversation upon the
S. S., and gave us an account of two visits he
had made her, and spoke in favour of her manner
of living, temper, and character. When he had
run on in this strain for some time, Mrs. Thrale
cried,

" Well, so you are grown very fond of her ?"

" Oh dear, no ! " answered he drily, " not at
all!"

1 See ante, p. 103.

2 Lady Anne Lindsay, 1750-1825, daughter of James Lindsay, fifth
Earl of Balcarres. In 1771 she had written " Auld Robin Gray." She
married in 1793, becoming Lady Anne Barnard.

3 This — in Sheridan's sense of " scold " — seems to have been a favourite
word at Streatham. See ante, p. 127.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 245

"Why, I began to think," said Mrs. Thrale,
" you intended to supplant the parson."

" No, I don't : I don't know what sort of an old
woman she'd make ; the tears won't do then.
Besides, I don't think her so sensible as I used
to do."

"But she's very pleasing," cried I, "and very
amiable."

" Yes, she's pleasing, — that's certain ; but I don't
think she reads much ; the Greek has spoilt her."

" Well, but you can read for yourself."

" That's true ; but does she work well ? "

" I believe she does, and that's a better thing."

" Ay, so it is," said he saucily, " for ladies ; ladies
should rather write than read."

" But authors," cried I, " before they write should
read."1

Returning again to the S. S., and being again
rallied about her by Mrs. Thrale, who said she
believed at last he would end there, — he said,

" Why, if I must marry — if I was bid to choose
between that and racking on the wheel, I believe
I should go to her."

We all laughed at this exquisite compliment ;
but, as he said, it was a compliment, for though it
proved no passion for her, it proved a preference.

"However," he continued, "it won't do."

" Upon my word," exclaimed I, " you settle it
all your own way ! — the lady would be ready at
any rate ! "

" Oh yes ! any man might marry Sophy S treat-
field."

I quite stopped to exclaim against him.

" I mean," said he, " if he'd pay his court to her."

And now I cannot resist telling you of a dispute
which Dr. Johnson had with Mrs. Thrale, the next
morning, concerning me, which that sweet woman

1 See Editor's Introduction, p. 7.

246 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

had the honesty and good sense to tell me. Dr.
Johnson was talking to her and Sir Philip Jennings
of the amazing progress made of late years in
literature by the women. He said he was himself
astonished at it, and told them he well remembered
when a woman who could spell a common letter
was regarded as all accomplished ; but now they
vied with the men in everything.1

" I think, sir," said my friend Sir Philip, " the
young lady we have here is a very extraordinary
proof of what you say."

" So extraordinary, sir," answered he, " that I
know none like her, — nor do I believe there is, or
there ever was, a man who could write such a book
so young."

They both stared — no wonder, I am sure ! — and
Sir Philip said,

" What do you think of Pope, sir ? could not
Pope have written such a one ? "

"Nay, nay," cried Mrs. Thrale, "there is no
need to talk of Pope ; a book may be a clever book,
and an extraordinary book, and yet not want a Pope
for its author. I suppose he was no older than
Miss Burney when he wrote Windsor Forest ; 2 and
I suppose Windsor Forest is equal to Evelina ! "

" Windsor Forest" repeated Dr. Johnson,
"though so delightful a poem, by no means re-
quired the knowledge of life and manners, nor the
accuracy of observation, nor the skill of penetration,
necessary for composing such a work as Evelina :
he who could ever write Windsor Forest, might as
well write it young as old. Poetical abilities require

1 Compare Swift to Mrs. Pendarves, afterwards Mrs. Delany, January
29, 1736 : — " A woman of quality, who had excellent good sense, was
formerly my correspondent, but she scrawled and spelt like a Wapping
wench . . . and I know several others of very high quality with the same
defect."

2 The first part of Windsor Forest was written in 1704 ; the remainder
was not added until 1713, when the whole was published. In 1704 Pope
was sixteen.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 247

not age to mature them ; but Evelina seems a work
that should result from long experience, and deep
and intimate knowledge of the world ; yet it has
been written without either. Miss Burney is a
real wonder. What she is, she is intuitively. Dr.
Burney told me she had had the fewest advantages
of any of his daughters, from some peculiar circum-
stances. And such has been her timidity, that he
himself had not any suspicion of her powers."

" Her modesty," said Mrs. Thrale (as she told
me), " is really beyond bounds. It quite provokes
me. And, in fact, I can never make out how the
mind that could write that book could be ignorant
of its value."

" That, madam, is another wonder," answered
my dear, dear Dr. Johnson, " for modesty with her
is neither pretence nor decorum ; 'tis an ingredient
of her nature ; for she who could part with such a
work for twenty pounds,1 could know so little of
its worth, or of her own, as to leave no possible
doubt of her humility."

My kind Mrs. Thrale told me this with a plea-
sure that made me embrace her with gratitude ; but
the astonishment of Sir Philip Clerke at such an
eloge from Dr. Johnson was quite, she says, comical.

1 Lowndes had apparently not yet paid the supplementary £10, which
he gave her after the third edition {Memoirs of Dr. Burney, 1832, ii. 151).

PART VI

1779

Dr. Johnson — His brilliant conversation — His preference of men
of the world to scholars — The late General Phipps — Dr.
Johnson teaches Miss Burney Latin — Fatal effect of using
cosmetics — Mrs. Vesey and Anstey — English ladies taken
by a French privateer — Letters — Miss Burney to Mr. Crisp
— Miss Burney' s comedy, The Witlings — Miss Burney to her
father — The Witlings condemned by him and Mr. Crisp —
She determines not to bring it forward — Admired by Mrs.
Thrale and Mr. Murphy — Miss Burney to Mr. Crisp —
Lamentations for her comedy — Mr. Crisp to Miss Burney —
The dangers of sincerity — Littleness and vanity of Garrick —
Ideas for another comedy — An eccentric family — Loss of the
Grenadas — Dinner at Dr. Burney' s — Mr. Crisp — Byron and
D'Estaing — Diary resumed — Visit to Brighton — Mr. Chamier
— A dandy of fifty years ago — A visit to Knowle Park —
Description of the pictures and state apartments — Sevenoaks
— Tunbridge Wells — A female oddity — The Pantiles — Mr.
Wedderburn — A runaway match — Its miseries — Extra-
ordinary child — Brighton — A character — A fascinating book-
seller— Topham Beauclerk — Lady Di Beauclerk — Mrs.
Musters — A mistake — Lady Pembroke — Scenes in a ball-
room— How to put down impertinence — A provincial com-
pany— Dry den's Tempest — Cumberland — Singular anecdotes
of him — His hatred of all contemporary authors — Scene with
him and Mrs. Thrale in a ball-room — A singular character
— Table-talk — Mystification — A solemn coxcomb — Dr.
Johnson — Sir Joshua Reynolds — Price of his portraits —
Artists and actors — Garrick — Fifty pounds for a song —
Learned ladies — Married life — A lordly brute — Physicians
and patients — Single-speech Hamilton — The humours of a
newspaper — Odd names — A long story — Letter from Miss
Burney to Mr. Crisp — Character and objects of her Journal.

Streatham, July 5. — I have hardly had any power
to write, my dear Susy, since I left you, for my

248

1779 DIARY AND LETTERS 249

cold has increased so much that I have hardly been
able to do anything.

Mr. Thrale, I think, is better, and he was cheer-
ful all the ride. Mrs. Thrale made as much of me
as if the two days had been two months.

I was heartily glad to see Dr. Johnson, and I
believe he was not sorry to see me : he had inquired
very much after me, and very particularly of Mrs.
Thrale whether she loved me as well as she used
to do.

He is better in health than I have ever seen
him before ; his journey has been very serviceable
to him,1 and he has taken very good resolutions to
reform his diet ; — so has my daddy Crisp. I wish I
could pit them one against the other, and see the
effect of their emulation.

I wished twenty times to have transmitted to
paper the conversation of the evening, for Dr.
Johnson was as brilliant as I have ever known him,
—and that's saying something ; — but I was not
very well, and could only attend to him for present
entertainment.

July 10. — Since I wrote last, I have been far
from well, — but I am now my own man again —
a peu-pres.

Very concise, indeed, must my journal grow,
for I have now hardly a moment in my power to
give it ; however, I will keep up its chain, and
mark, from time to time, the general course of
things.

Sir Philip Jennings has spent three days here,
at the close of which he took leave of us for the
summer, and set out for his seat in Hampshire.
We were all sorry to lose him ; he is a most
comfortable man in society, for he is always the
same — easy, good-humoured, agreeable, and well-

1 He had been to Lichfield and Ashbourne, returning to London about
the end of June.

250 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

bred. He has made himself a favourite to the
whole house, Dr. Johnson included, who almost
always prefers the company of an intelligent man
of the world to that of a scholar.

Lady Ladd spent the day here last Sunday.
Did I ever do her the justice to give you a sketch
of her since I have been more acquainted with
her than when I first did her that favour ? I think
not.

She is gay, even to levity, wholly uncultivated
as to letters, but possesses a very good natural
capacity, and a fund of humour and sport that
makes her company far more entertaining than
that of half the best - educated women in the
kingdom. The pride I have mentioned never
shows itself without some provocation, and where-
ever she meets with respect, she returns it with
interest.

In the course of the day she said to me in a
whisper, "I had a gentleman with me yesterday
who is crazy to see you, — and he teased me to
bring him here with me, but I told him I could
not till I had paved the way."

I found, afterwards, that this gentleman is
Mr. Edmund Phipps, a younger brother of Lord
Mulgrave, and of the Harry Phipps Hetty danced
with at Mr. Lalauze's masquerade.1 Lady Ladd
appointed the next Tuesday to bring him to
dinner. As he is a particular favourite with Mrs.
Thrale, her ladyship had no difficulty in gaining
him admittance.

I think times have come to a fine pass, if
people are to come to Streatham with no better
views.

Well, — on Tuesday I was quite ill, — and

1 See Early Diary, 1889, i. pp. 64-71. Mr. Lalauze was a French dancing
master in Leicester Fields. This entertainment probably suggested the
masquerade chapter in Book ii. of Cecilia.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 251

obliged to be blooded, — so I could not go down
to dinner.

Mr. Seward accompanied Lady Ladd and Mr.
E. Phipps, and added to the provocation of my
confinement.

Lady Ladd and Mrs. Thrale both persuaded
me to make my appearance, and as my head grew
much easier, I thought it better so to do, than to
increase a curiosity I was sure of disappointing, by
any delay I had power to prevent.

"You will like him, I daresay," said Mrs.
Thrale, " for he is very like you."

I heard afterwards that, when they returned to
the parlour, Mr. Phipps, among other questions,
asked, " Is she very pretty ? "

iV.2?. — I wish there was no such question in
the language.

66 Very pretty ? — no," said Mrs. Thrale ; "but
she is very like you. Do you think yourself very
handsome, Mr. Phipps ? "

M Pho ! " — cried he, — " I was in hopes she was
like her own JEvelina."

" No, no such thing," said Mrs. Thrale, " unless
it is in timidity, but neither in beauty nor in
ignorance of life."

I am very glad this passed before I came down, —
for else I think I should have struck him all of a heap.

Now it's my turn to speak of him.

He is very tall — not very like me in that, you'll
say — very brown 1 — not very unlike me in that,
you'll say ; for the rest, however, the compliment
is all to me.

I saw but little of him, as they all went about
an hour after I came down ; but I had time to
see that he is very sensible, very elegant in his
manners, and very unaffected and easy.

1 She is said to have been rather brown of complexion. (Cp. p. 182.)

252 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

A propos to books, I have not been able to
read Wraxall's Memoirs1 yet — I wish Mrs. Ord
had not lent them me ; and now Lady Ladd, too,
has brought me two volumes, called Sketches from
Nature, written by Mr. Keate.2 What I have
read of them repaid me nothing for the time
they took up, — a mere and paltry imitation of
Sterne's Sentimental Journey.

July 20. — What a vile journalist do I grow ! —
it is, however, all I can do to keep it at all going ;
for, to let you a little into the nature of things,
you must know my studies occupy almost every
moment that I spend by myself. Dr. Johnson
gives us a Latin lesson every morning. I pique
myself somewhat upon being ready for him ; so
that really, when the copying my play,3 and the
continual returning occurrences of every fresh
day are considered, you will not wonder that I
should find so little opportunity for scrawling
letters.

What progress we may make in this most
learned scheme I know not ; but, as I have
always told you, I am sure I fag more for fear of
disgrace than for hope of profit. To devote so
much time to acquire something I shall always
dread to have known, is really unpleasant enough,
considering how many things there are I might
employ myself in that would have no such draw-
back. However, on the other side, I am both
pleased and flattered that Dr. Johnson should
think me worth inviting to be his pupil, and I
shall always recollect with pride and with pleasure
the instructions he has the goodness to give me :

1 Memoirs of the Kings of France of the Race of Valois, 1777, his
second book.

2 George Keate, 1729-97. His Sketches from Nature, taken and
coloured in a Journey to Margate, were published in 1779. They were
on wood, and the text — as Miss Burney says — imitated Sterne.

8 See ante, p. 215.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 253

so, since I cannot without dishonour alter matters,
'tis as well to turn Frenchwoman, and take them
in the tant mieucc fashion.

A new light is of late thrown upon the death

of poor Sophy P . Dr. Hervey, of Tooting,

who attended her the day before she expired, is
of opinion that she killed herself by quackery,
that is, by cosmetics and preparations of lead or
mercury, taken for her complexion, which, indeed,
was almost unnaturally white. He thinks, there-
fore, that this pernicious stuff got into her veins,

and poisoned her.1 Peggy P , nearly as white

as her sister, is suspected strongly of using the
same beautifying methods of destroying herself;
but as Mrs. Thrale has hinted this suspicion to
her, and charged her to take care of herself, we
hope she will be frightened, and warned to her
safety. Poor foolish girls ! how dearly do they
pay for the ambition of being fairer than their
neighbours ! I say they, for poor Peggy looks
upon the point of death already.

Yesterday Mrs. Vesey came hither to tea. I'm
sure if Anstey saw her he would make an excep-
tion to his assertion that " he never should see
an old woman again ! " for she has the most
wrinkled, sallow, time -beaten face I ever saw.
She is an exceeding well-bred woman, and of
agreeable manners ; but all her name in the world
must, I think, have been acquired by her dexterity
and skill in selecting parties, and by her address
in rendering them easy with one another — an art,

1 Crisp's friend, Lady Coventry (Maria Gunning), wife of the sixth
Earl, 1733-60, is believed to have hastened her death in the same way.

The " Sophy P " referred to, was apparently Miss Sophia Pitches,

daughter of Sir Abraham Pitches, Knt. , of Streatham. Her sister Peggy,
mentioned in the next sentence, oddly enough, afterwards married the
seventh Earl of Coventry. See ante, p. 139, and also in volume vi., Mrs.
Piozzi's letter to Madame D'Arblay of March 15, 1821, for further par-
ticulars as to this family.

254 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

however, that seems to imply no mean under-
standing.

The breaking-up of our Spa journey my father
has doubtless told you. The fears and dangers of
being taken by the enemy, which prevented that
journey, have proved to be but too well grounded,
for Mrs. Vesey informed us that the Duchess of
Leinster, Lady F. Campbell, and several others,
Avere all actually taken by a French privateer, in
crossing the sea in order to proceed to Spa. We
have, however, heard that they are all safe and at
liberty.

Miss F. Burney to Mr. Crisp

Friday, July 30, 1779.

Now, my dear daddy, let me attempt some-
thing like an answer to your two last most kind
letters.

In the first place I have the pleasure to tell you
that Mr. Thrale is as well as ever he was in health,
though the alarming and terrible blow he so lately
received, has, I fear, given a damp to his spirits
that will scarce ever be wholly conquered. Yet he
grows daily rather more cheerful ; but the shock
was too rude and too cruel to be ever forgotten.

I am not half so well satisfied with your account
of yourself as I hoped to have been ; I fear you are
not so steady in your intended reformation as to
diet and exercise as you proposed being ? Dr.
Johnson has made resolutions exactly similar to
yours, and in general adheres to them with strict-
ness, but the old Adam, as you say, stands in his
way, as well as in his neighbours'. I wish I could
pit you against each other, for the sake of both.
Yet he professes an aversion to you, because he
says he is sure you are very much in his way
with me ! however, I believe you would neither

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 255

of you retain much aversion if you had a fair
meeting.

I cannot tell you how kind I take your invita-
tions to me. I had half feared I was to be left
out of the scrape now ; and I am sure I should
wish all my new friends at Jericho if their good-
ness to me procured coldness, neglect, or suspicion
from my old and deep-rooted ones. I will most
certainly and thankfully contrive to accept your
kind offer, and, if possible, when Mrs. Gast is with
you, as that would be doubling my pleasure ; but
you, my dear daddy, must let me know what time
will be most convenient and comfortable to your-
self for seeing me, and then I will manage matters
as well as I can, to conform to it.

All you say of the times made me shudder ; yet
I was sure such would be your sentiments, for
all that has happened you actually foresaw and
represented to me in strong colours last spring — I
mean in relation to the general decline of all trade,
opulence, and prosperity.

This seems a strange, unseasonable period for
my undertaking, among the rest ; but yet, my dear
daddy, when you have read my conversation with
Mr. Sheridan, I believe you will agree that I must
have been wholly insensible, nay, almost ungrate-
ful, to resist encouragement such as he gave me —
nay, more than encouragement, entreaties, all of
which he warmly repeated to my father.

Now, as to the play itself, I own I had wished
to have been the bearer of it when I visit Chessing-
ton ; but you seem so urgent, and my father
himself is so desirous to carry it you, that I have
given that plan up.

Oh, my dear daddy, if your next letter were to
contain your real opinion of it, how should I dread
to open it ! Be, however, as honest as your good
nature and delicacy will allow you to be, and

256 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

assure yourself I shall be very certain that all your
criticisms will proceed from your earnest wishes
to obviate those of others, and that you would
have much more pleasure in being my panegyrist.

As to Mrs. Gast, I should be glad to know
what I would refuse to a sister of yours. Make
her, therefore, of your coterie, if she is with you
while the piece is in your possession.

And now let me tell you what I wish in regard
to this affair. I should like that your first reading
should have nothing to do with me — that you
should go quick through it, or let my father read
it to you — forgetting all the time, as much as you
can, that Fannikin is the writer, or even that it is
a play in manuscript, and capable of alterations ; —
and then, when you have done, I should like to
have three lines, telling me, as nearly as you can
trust my candour, its general effect. After that
take it to your own desk, and lash it at your
leisure.

Adieu, my dear daddy ! I shall hope to hear
from you very soon, and pray believe me, yours ever
and ever, Frances Burney.

P.S. — Let it fail never so much, the manager
will have nothing to reproach me with : is not that
a comfort ? He would really listen to no denial.

Miss F. Burney to Dr. Burney

The fatal knell, then, is knolled, and "down
among the dead men " sink the poor Witlings — for
ever, and for ever, and for ever !

I give a sigh, whether I will or not, to their
memory ! for, however worthless, they were mes
enfans, and one must do one's nature, as Mr.
Crisp will tell you of the dog.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 257

You, my dearest sir, who enjoyed, I really
think, even more than myself, the astonishing
success of my first attempt, would, I believe, even
more than myself, be hurt at the failure of my
second ; and I am sure I speak from the bottom of
a very honest heart, when I most solemnly declare,
that upon your account any disgrace would mortify
and afflict me more than upon my own ; for what-
ever appears with your knowledge, will be naturally
supposed to have met with your approbation, and,
perhaps, your assistance ; therefore, though all par-
ticular censure would fall where it ought — upon
me — yet any general censure of the whole, and the
plan, would cruelly, but certainly involve you in
its severity.

Of this I have been sensible from the moment
my " authorshipness " was discovered, and, there-
fore, from that moment I determined to have no
opinion of my own in regard to what I should
thenceforth part with out of my own hands. I
would long since have burnt the fourth act, upon
your disapprobation of it, but that I waited, and
was by Mrs. Thrale so much encouraged to wait,
for your finishing the piece.

You have finished it now in every sense of the
word. Partial faults may be corrected ; but what
I most wished was, to know the general effect of
the whole ; and as that has so terribly failed, all
petty criticisms would be needless. I shall wipe
it all from my memory, and endeavour never to
recollect that I ever wrote it.

You bid me open my heart to you, — and so,
my dearest sir, I will, for it is the greatest happi-
ness of my life that I dare be sincere to you. I
expected many objections to be raised — a thousand
errors to be pointed out — and a million of altera-
tions to be proposed ; but the suppression of the
piece were words I did not expect ; indeed, after

vol. i s

258 DIARY AND LETTERS OF

177!

the warm approbation of Mrs. Thrale, and the re-
peated commendations and flattery of Mr. Murphy,
how could I ?

I do not, therefore, pretend to wish you should
think a decision, for which I was so little prepared,
has given me no disturbance ; for I must be a far
more egregious witling than any of those I tried to
draw, to imagine you could ever credit that I wrote
without some remote hope of success now — though
I literally did when I composed Evelina !

But my mortification is not at throwing away
the characters, or the contrivance; — it is all at
tli rowing away the time, — which I with difficulty
stole, and which I have buried in the mere trouble
of writing.

What my daddy Crisp says, " that it would be
the best policy, but for pecuniary advantages, for
me to write no more," is exactly what I have
always thought since Evelina was published. But
I will not now talk of putting it in practice, — for
the best way I can take of showing that I have a
true and just sense of the spirit of your condemna-
tion, is not to sink sulky and dejected under it, but
to exert myself to the utmost of my power in
endeavours to produce something less reprehen-
sible. And this shall be the way I will pursue as
soon as my mind is more at ease about Hetty and
Mrs. Thrale, and as soon as I have read myself into
a forgetful ness of my old dramatis persona? — lest
I should produce something else as witless as the
last.

Adieu, my dearest, kindest, truest, best friend.
I will never proceed so far again without your
counsel, and then I shall not only save myself so
much useless trouble, but you, who so reluctantly
blame, the kind pain which I am sure must attend
your disapprobation. The world will not always
go well, as Mrs. Sapient might say, and I am sure

1779 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 259

I have long thought I have had more than my
share of success already.

I expect another disappointment to follow, i.e. —
that of the Spa journey ; for I believe poor Mrs.
Thrale will not be able to go anywhere ; but I
must get in practice with a little philosophy, and
then make myself amends for all evils by a con-
ceited notion of bearing them well.

Once more, adieu, dearest sir ! and never may
my philosophy be put to the test of seeing any
abatement of true kindness from you, — for that
would never be decently endured by your own,

Frances Burney.1

Miss F. Burney to Mr. Crisp

Well ! " there are plays that are to be saved,
and plays that are not to be saved!"2 so good
night, Mr. Dabbler ! — good-night, Lady Smatter,
—Mrs. Sapient, —Mrs. Voluble, — Mrs. Wheedle,
— Censor, — Cecilia, — Beaufort, and you, you great
oaf, Bobby ! — good-night ! good-night !

And good- morning, Miss Fanny Burney ! — I
hope now you have opened your eyes for some
time, and will not close them in so drowsy a fit
again — at least till the full of the moon.

I won't tell you I have been absolutely ravie
with delight at the fall of the curtain ; but I
intend to take the affair in the tant mieuoc manner,
and to console myself for your censure by this
greatest proof I have ever received of the sincerity,
candour, and, let me add, esteem, of my dear daddy.

1 The following was appended to this letter, in the handwriting of Miss
Burney, at a subsequent period. "The objection of Mr. Crisp to
the MS. play of The Witlings, was its resemblance to Moliere's Femmes
Sgavantes, and consequent immense inferiority. It is, however, a curious
fact, and to the author a consolatory one, that she had literally never read
the Femmes Scavantes when she composed The Witlings. " [ Mrs. Barrett's
note.}

2 A variation of Cassio's speech in Othello, Act II. Sc. iii.

260 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

And as I happen to love myself rather more than
my play, this consolation is not a very trifling one.

As to all you say of my reputation and so forth,
1 perceive the kindness of your endeavours to put
me in humour with myself, and prevent my taking
huff, which, if I did, I should deserve to receive,
upon any future trial, hollow praise from you, —
and the rest from the public.

As to the MS., I am in no hurry for it. Be-
sides, it ought not to come till I have prepared an
ovation, and the honours of conquest for it.

The only bad thing in this affair, is, that I
cannot take the comfort of my poor friend
Dabbler,1 by calling you a crabbed fellow, because
you write with almost more kindness than ever ;
neither can I (though I try hard) persuade myself
that you have not a grain of taste in your whole
composition.

This, however, seriously I do believe, that when
my two daddies put their heads together to concert
for me that hissing, groaning, catcalling epistle
they sent me, they felt as sorry for poor little Miss
Bayes as she could possibly do for herself.

You see I do not attempt to repay your frank-
ness with the art of pretended carelessness. But
though somewhat disconcerted just now, I will
promise not to let my vexation live out another
day. I shall not browse upon it,— but, on the
contrary, drive it out of my thoughts, by filling
them up with things almost as good of other
people's.

Our Hettina is much better ; but pray don't
keep Mr. B. beyond Wednesday, for Mrs. Thrale
makes a point of my returning to Streatham on
Tuesday, unless, which God forbid, poor Hetty
should be worse again.

Adieu, my dear daddy, I won't be mortified,

1 A character in The Witlings. See above, p. 259.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 261

and I won't be downed, — but I will be proud to
find I have, out of my own family, as well as in it,
a friend who loves me well enough to speak plain
truth to me.

Always do thus, and always you shall be tried by,
your much obliged and most affectionate,

Frances Burney.

Mr. Crisp to Miss F. Burney

My dear Fannikin — I have known half a
letter filled up with recapitulating the tedious
and very particular reasons why and wherefore,
etc. etc. etc., it was not sent before. — I don't like
the example, and shall not follow it. — I will
only tell you that I have been far from well. I
should not say thus much, but from an anxious
care lest a Fannikin should think I am supine in
anything that relates either to her interest or
fame. Thus much for preface.

Your other daddy (who hardly loves you better
than I do) I understand has written you his senti-
ments on the subject of your last letter. I cannot
but be of the same opinion ; and have too sincere
a regard for you not to declare it. This sincerity
I have smarted for, and severely too, ere now ; 1
and yet, happen what will (where those I love are
concerned) I am determined never to part with it.
All the world (if you will believe them) profess to
expect it, to demand it, to take it kindly, thank-
fully, etc. etc.; and yet how few are generous
enough to take it as it is meant ! — it is imputed to
envy, ill-will, a desire of lowering, and certainly to
a total want of taste. Is not this, by vehement
importunity, to draw your very entrails from you,

1 A reference, more or less obscure, to the partial success of Crisp's
tragedy of Virginia, 1754.

262 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

and then to give them a stab ? — On this topic I
find I have, ere I was aware, grown warm ; but I
have been a sufferer.1 My plain-dealing (after the
most earnest solicitations, professions, and pro-
testations) irrecoverably lost me Garrick. But
his soul was little ! — Greville,2 for a while, be-
came my enemy, though afterwards, through his
constitutional inconstancy, he became more at-
tached than before ; and since that time, through
absence, whim, and various accidents, all is (I
thank Fortune) dwindled to nothing.

How have I wandered ! I should never have
thought aloud in this manner, if I had not perfectly
known the make and frame of a Fannikin's inmost
soul ; and by this declaration I give her the most
powerful proof I am capable of, how highly I think
of her generosity and understanding.

Now then, to the point — I have considered as
well as I am able, what you state as Mrs. Thrale's
idea — of new modelling the play ; and I observe
what you say, that the pursuing this project is the
only chance you have of bringing out anything
this year, and that with hard fagging perhaps you
might do that. I agree with you, that for this
year you say true ; but, my dear Fanny, dont talk
of hard fagging. It was not hard fagging that
produced such a work as Evelina ! — it was the
ebullition of true sterling genius — you wrote it
because you could not help it — it came, and so
you put it down on paper. Leave fagging and
labour to him

Who, high in Drury Lane,
Lull'd by soft zephyrs through the broken pane,
Rhymes ere he wakes, and prints before term ends,
Compell'd by hunger and request of friends.8

1 Another reference to Virginia.

2 Fulke Greville, of Wilbury House, Wilts, an early friend of Crisp and
Dr. Burney. His wife, ne'e Frances Macartney, was Fanny's godmother.

3 Pope's Epistle to Arbuthnot, 1735, 11. 41-44.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF ' EVELINA' 263

Tis not sitting down to a desk with pen, ink,
and paper, that will command inspiration.

Having now so frankly spoke my mind on the
present production, concerning which I am sorry
and ashamed to differ from much wiser heads than
my own, I shall acquaint you with a fancy of mine.
Your daddy doctor related to me something of an
account you had given him of a most ridiculous
family in your present neighbourhood, which, even
in the imperfect manner he described it, struck me
most forcibly — the . . . He says you gave it him
with so much humour, such painting, such descrip-
tion, such fun, that in your mouth it was a perfect
comedy. He described (from you) some of the
characters, and a general idea of the act. I was
quite animated — there seemed to me an inexhaust-
ible fund of matter for you to work on, and the
follies of the folks of so general a nature as to
furnish you with a profusion of what you want,
to make out a most spirited, witty, moral, useful
comedy, without descending to the invidious and
cruel practice of pointing out individual characters,
and holding them up to public ridicule. Nothing
can be more general than the reciprocal follies of
parents and children — few subjects more striking —
they, if well drawn, will seize the attention, and
interest the feelings of all sorts, high and low. In
short, I was delighted with the idea. The pro-
ceedings of this family, as he gave them, seemed so
preposterous, so productive of bad consequences,
so ludicrous besides, that their whole conduct might
be termed the right road to go wrong.

Your daddy doctor talks of Mrs. Thrale's coming
over to this place, to fetch back him and madam.
Cannot you prevail on her to drop you here for a
little while ? I long to have a good talk with you,
as the Cherokees call it — I cannot by letter say
my say — my say, look ye, Fanny, is honest — and that

264 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

is something ; and I think is merit enough in these
evil days to incline you now and then to turn your
ear my way. — I am your loving daddy, S. C.

Miss F. Burney to Mrs. Thrale1

Chessington, August 24.

Here at length we are — arrived just in time to
witness poor Daddy Crisp's misery upon receiving
intelligence of our late very dreadful loss.2 Good
heaven, what a terrible blow ! our prophet here,
who, however, is always a croaking prophet, fore-
tells nothing but utter destruction for its inevitable
consequence. You, dearest madam, who are as
croaking a prophetess, what say you ? must
Jamaica, must all the West Indies be lost? or
have you some words of comfort to give us ?

Baretti met Mr. Greville 3 and Mr. Sastris 4 at
our house the evening before we left town, and
assured us peremptorily, and with furious vehe-
mence, that the war would be finished in another
year, and France, Spain, and America, would make
what terms we pleased ! Perhaps, as he found
everybody else forboding ill, he thought it some-
thing for the benefit of mankind to forebode good :
but you would have laughed to have seen the little
respect he paid to the opposition and opinions of
the great Mr. Greville, the arrogance with which
he " downed " whatever he advanced, and the fury
with which he answered him when contradicted in
his assertions. I really expected every moment to
hear him exclaim, " It is that you are an impene-

1 This letter was placed either by Mrs. Barrett or Madame D'Arblay
under 1780. It is probably more accurately inserted here.

2 This must have been the " loss of the Grenadas " referred to by Mrs.
Thrale in the letter that follows. Grenada surrendered unconditionally to
D'Estaing at the beginning of July 1779.

3 Fulke Greville. See ante, p. 262.

4 Signor Sastres was an Italian master.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 265

trable blockhead " ; — and I could not get out of my
head the rage with which Mr. Greville would have
heard such a compliment. As it was, the astonish-
ment that seized him when he saw the violence
and contempt of Baretti, was sufficiently comical ;
he had never before spoken a word to him, though
he had accidentally met with him, and I fancy he
expected, by his tonish grandeur, to have instantly
silenced and intimidated him : but when he found
Baretti stout, and that the more he resisted, the
more he bullied him, he could only stare, and look
around at us all, with an expression that said,
" Am I awake ? "

We had one very pleasant day last week with
our dear Dr. Johnson, who dined with us, and met
Mr. Barry,1 Dr. Dunbar, and Dr. Gillies,2 and
afterwards Mr. Crofts, the famous book collector,
Mr. Sastris, Mrs. Reynolds, Mr. Devaynes,3 and
Baretti, and altogether we made it out very well.
But Dr. Johnson took the same dislike to poor Dr.
Gillies that you did. What he can have done to
you both I cannot imagine, for everybody else
likes him mightily. I had a good mind to have
asked Miss Reynolds to conjecture the reason of
your aversion, for that would have been a happy
subject for her to have pondered upon. Dr.
Johnson was very sweet and very delightful indeed ;
I think he grows more and more so, or at least, I
grow more and more fond of him. I really believe

1 James Barry, 1741-1806. He was at this time decorating the Great
or Meeting-room of the Society of Arts with a series of historical and
allegorical pictures. Into one of these, which is emblematical of " Navi-
gation; or, the Triumph of the Thames," he whimsically introduced a like-
ness of Dr. Burney, in a queue and tye-wig, surrounded by water-nymphs,
and personifying music (see A Note on the Pictures, etc. 1880, by Sir H.
Trueman Wood, Secretary to the Society). Barry could never be per-
suaded of the impropriety of this portrait.

2 Dr. John Gillies, 1747-1836, author of the History of Ancient Greece,
etc., 1786. In 1793 George III. made him Historiographer-Royal for
Scotland.

3 Mr. Devaynes — " that ever-cheerful companion," Johnson calls him —
was apothecary to George III. (Hill's Boswell, 1887, iv. 273).

266 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

Mr. Barry found him almost as amusing as a fit of
the toothache !

Don't fear my opening my lips, my dear madam,
about your letters ; I never read but scraps and
chosen morsels to anybody, — and I hope you do
the same by me ; for though what I have to say is
not of equal consequence, my flippancies, which
I rather indulge than curb to you, might do me
mischief should they run about. I have not seen
Piozzi : he left me your letter, which indeed is a
charming one ; though its contents puzzled me
much whether to make me sad or merry. Who is
your dwarf ? — Your fan gentleman is after my own
heart. I am glad you find comfort in Dr. Delap.
I beg my best compliments to him,— and to my
master and missey, — and believe me ever and most
faithfully yours, ' F. B.

My father's best love to you, and my daddy's
respects.

Mrs. Thrale to Miss F. Burney1

Streatham, Saturday.

iMv dear Miss Burney — And so here comes
your sweet letter. And so I pleased Mr. Crisp,
did I ? and yet he never heard, it seems, the only
good things I said, which were very earnest, and
very honest, and very pressing invitations to him,
to see Streatham nearer than through the telescope.
Now, that he did not hear all this was your
fault, mademoiselle ; for you told me that Mr.
Crisp was old, and Mr. Crisp was infirm ; and, if I

1 This letter was placed either by Mrs. Barrett or Madame D'Arblay
at the head of the letters of 1781. As it speaks of Chamier, who had
died in October 1780, this is obviously incorrect. From the references to
the battle of July 6, between Byron and D'Estaing, news of which reached
England early in September 1779, it was probably written in that month
and year, in reply to the letter from Miss Burney which preceded it.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF ' EVELINA' 267

had found those things so, I should have spoken
louder, and concluded him to be deaf : but, finding
him very amiable, and very elegant, and very polite
to me, and very unlike an old man, I never thought
about his being deaf; and, perhaps, was a little
coquettish too, in my manner of making the invita-
tion. I now repeat it, however, and give it under
my hand, that I should consider such a visit as a
very, very great honour, and so would Mr. Thrale.

And now for dismal !

I have been seriously ill ever since I saw you.
Mrs. Burney 1 has been to me a kind and useful
friend, — has suffered me to keep her here all this
time — is here still — would not go to Sir Joshuas,
though she was asked, because I could not ; and
has been as obliging, and as attentive, and as good
to me as possible. Dick is happy,2 and rides out
with my master, and his mamma and 1 look at
them out of the dressing-room window. So much
for self.

In the midst of my own misery I felt for my
dear Mrs. Byron's ; but Chamier has relieved that
anxiety by assurances that the Admiral behaved
quite unexceptionably, and that, as to honour in
the West Indies, all goes well. The Grenadas
are a heavy loss indeed, nor is it supposed possible
for Byron to protect Barbadoes and Antigua.
Barrington 3 has acted a noble part ; he and
Count d'Estaing remind one of the heroic con-
tentions of distant times. The Lyon, on our side,
commanded by a Welshman,4 and the Languedoc,
on the side of the French, fought with surprising
fury, and lost a great number of men ; it was a
glorious day, though on our side unfortunate.

1 Evidently Fanny's step-mother, who was staying at Streatham.

2 Fanny's half-brother, Richard Thomas Burney.

3 Vice-Admiral Samuel Barrington, 1729-1800, second in command at
Grenada. He brought Admiral Byron's despatches to England.

4 Captain (afterwards Sir William) Cornwallis, 1744-1819.

268 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

D'Orvilliers has left our Channel after only
cutting a few ships out of Torbay, and chasing
Sir Charles 1 to Spithead. Many suppose the home
campaign quite over for this year.

I have had very kind letters from Dr. Delap.
I love the Sussex people somehow, and they are a
mighty silly race too. But 'tis never for their
wisdom that one loves the wisest, or for their wit
that one loves the wittiest ; 'tis for benevolence,
and virtue, and honest fondness, one loves people ;
the other qualities make one proud of loving them
too.

Dear, sweet, kind Burney, adieu ; whether sick
or sorry, ever yours, H. L. T.

Brighthelmsto7ie, Oct, 12. — As you say you will
accept memorandums in default of journals, my
dear Susy, I will scrawl down such things as most
readily recur to my remembrance, and, when I get
to the present time, I will endeavour to be less
remiss in my accounts.

Sunday, — We had Lady Ladd at Streatham ;
she did not leave us till the next day. She and I
are grown most prodigious friends. She is really
so entertaining and lively, that it is not often
possible to pass time more gaily than in her
company.

Mr. Stephen Fuller, the sensible, but deaf old
gentleman I have formerly mentioned,2 dined here

also ; as did Mr. R , whose trite, settled, tonish

emptiness of discourse is a never-failing source of
laughter and diversion.

" Well, I say, what, Miss Burney, so you had
a very good party last Tuesday ? — what we call
the family party — in that sort of way ? 3 Pray who
had you ? "

1 Sir Charles Hardy, 1716-80, Commander of the Channel Fleet.

2 See ante, p. 131.

3 This indicates that " Mr. R." is Mr. Rose Fuller. See ante, p. 131.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 269

" Mr. Chamier." l

" Mr. Chamier, ay ? Give me leave to tell you,
Miss Burney, that Mr. Chamier is what we call a
very sensible man ! "

" Certainly. And Mr. Pepys."

" Mr. Pepys ? Ay, very good — very good in
that sort of way. I'm quite sorry I could not be
here ; but I was so much indisposed — quite what
we call the nursing party."

" I'm very sorry ; but I hope little Sharp 2 is
well?"

" Ma'am, your most humble ! you're a very good
lady, * indeed ! — quite what we call a good lady !
Little Sharp is perfectly well : that sort of atten-
tion, and things of that sort, — the bow-wow system
is very well. But pray, Miss Burney, give me
leave to ask, in that sort of way, had you anybody
else ? "

" Yes, Lady Ladd and Mr. Seward."

"So, so ! — quite the family system ! Give me
leave to tell you, Miss Burney, this commands
attention ! — what we call a respectable invitation !
I am sorry I could not come, indeed ; for we young
men, Miss Burney, we make it what we call a sort
of a rule to take notice of this sort of attention.
But I was extremely indisposed, indeed — what we

call the walnut system had quite Pray what's

the news, Miss Burney ? — in that sort of way — is
there any news ? "

" None, that I have heard. Have you heard

"Why, very bad! — very bad, indeed! — quite
what we call poor old England ! I was told, in
town, — fact — fact, I assure you — that these Dons
intend us an invasion this very month ! — they and

1 Anthony Chamier, 1725-80, an original member of the Literary Club.
He was, at this date, M.P. for Tamworth, F.R.S., and Under-Secretary
of State for War.

2 Mr. Rose Fuller's dog. See ante, p. 130.

270 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

the Monsieurs intend us the respectable salute this
very month ; — the powder system, in that sort of
way ! Give me leave to tell you, Miss Burney,
this is what we call a disagreeable visit, in that sort
of way."

I think, if possible, his language looks more
absurd upon paper even than it sounds in conver-
sation, from the perpetual recurrence of the same
words and expressions.

On Tuesday Mr., Mrs., Miss Thrale, and "yours,
ma'am, yours," set out on their expedition. The
day was very pleasant, and the journey delightful ;
but that which chiefly rendered it so was Mr.
Thrale's being apparently the better for- it.

I need not tell you how sweet a county for
travelling is Kent, as you know it so well. We
stopped at Sevenoaks, which is a remarkably well-
situated town ; and here, while dinner was pre-
paring, my kind and sweet friends took me to
Knowle,1 though they had seen it repeatedly them-
selves.

The park, which, it seems, is seven miles in
circumference, and has, as the gamekeeper told us,
700 head of deer in it, is laid out in a most beautiful
manner, — nearly, I think, equal to Hagley, as far
as belongs to the disposition of the trees, hills,
dales, etc., though, in regard to temples, obelisks, or
any sort of buildings, it will bear no comparison to
that sweet place, since nothing is there of that sort.

The house, which is very old, has the appearance
of an antique chapel, or rather cathedral. Two
immense gates and two courtyards precede the
entrance into the dwelling part of the house ; the
windows are all of the small old casements ; and
the general air of the place is monastic and gloomy.
It was begun to be built, as the housekeeper told

1 Knole Park, Kent, the seat of John Frederick Sackville, third Duke
of Dorset, 1745-99.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 271

us, in the reign of Henry II., by Thomas a Becket,
but the modern part was finished in the time of
Elkabeth.

The Duke of Dorset was not there himself; but
we were prevented seeing the library, and two or
three other modernised rooms, because Madlle.
Bacelli was not to be disturbed. The house, how-
ever, is so magnificently large, that we only coveted
to see that part of it which was hung with pictures.
Three state-rooms, however, were curious enough.
One of them had been fitted up by an " Earle of
Dorsete," for the bed-chamber of King James I.
when upon a visit at Knowle : it had all the gloomy
grandeur and solemn finery of that time. The
second state-room a later earl had fitted up for
James II. The two Charleses either never honoured
Knowle with their presence, or else condescended
to sleep in their father and grandfather's bed.
Well, this James II. 's room was more superb
than his predecessors' — flaming with velvet, tissue,
tapestry, and what not. But the third state-room
was magnificence itself : it was fitted up for King
William. The bed - curtains, tester, quilt, and
valance were all of gold flowers, worked upon a
silver ground : its value, even in those days, was
£7000. The table, a superb cabinet, frame of the
looking-glass, and all the ornaments, and, I believe,
all the furniture in the room, were of solid massive
silver, curiously embossed. Nothing could be more
splendid.

But to leave all this show, and come to what is
a thousand times more interesting — the pictures,
of which there is, indeed, a delicious collection.
I could have spent a day in looking at every room,
and yet have longed to see them again. I can,
however, give a very imperfect and lame account
of them, as we were so hurried by the housekeeper
from room to room, and I was so anxious to miss

272 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

nothing, that the merely glancing over so many
beautiful paintings has only left a faint remem-
brance in my head of each particular picture, though
a very strong and deep impression of the pleasure
they at the time afforded me.

Among such as just now occur to me were
a Lucretia with a dagger, a large whole-length,
by Guido, extremely beautiful, purchased by the
present duke in Italy ; a Madonna and Child, small
size, by Raphael, so lovely I could not turn from
it till called repeatedly ; a Virgin, by Carlo Dolci,
that was irresistibly attractive ; a Raphael, by him-
self, that was noble ; landscapes, by Poussin, and one
or two by Claude Lorraine, that were enchanting.

There are several pictures by Sir Joshua
Reynolds, and though mixed with those of the
best old painters, they are so bewitching, and
finished in a style of taste, colouring, and expres-
sion, so like their companions, that it is not, at
first view, easy to distinguish the new from the
old. The celebrated Ugolino family is almost too
horrible to be looked at, yet I was glad to see it
again ; Two Beggar-boys make an exceedingly
pleasing picture ; the Duke himself, by Sir Joshua,
among the portraits of his own family, in a state-
room, is, I think, by no means a likeness to flatter
his Grace's vanity. One room is appropriated to
artists, and among them three are by Sir Joshua.
— Dr. Johnson, Dr. Goldsmith, and Sacchini, — all
charmingly done, and the two I know extremely
like.

We dined very comfortably at Sevenoaks, and
thence made but one stage to Tunbridge. It was
so dark when we went through the town that I
could see it very indistinctly. The Wells, how-
ever, are about seven miles yet farther, — so that
we saw that night nothing ; but I assure you, I
felt that I was entering into a new country

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 273

pretty roughly, for the roads were so sidelum and

jumblum, as Miss L called those of Teign-

mouth, that I expected an overturn every minute.
Safely, however, we reached the Sussex Hotel, at
Tunbridge Wells.

Having looked at our rooms, and arranged our
affairs, we proceeded to Mount Ephraim, where
Miss Streatfield resides. We found her with only
her mother, and spent the evening there.

Mrs. Streatfield is very — very little, but per-
fectly well made, thin, genteel, and delicate. She
has been quite beautiful, and has still so much
of beauty left, that to call it only the remains of a
fine face seems hardly doing her justice. She is
very lively, and an excellent mimic, and is, I think,
as much superior to her daughter in natural
gifts as her daughter is to her in acquired ones :
and how infinitely preferable are parts without
education to education without parts !

The fair S. S. is really in higher beauty than I
have ever yet seen her ; and she was so caressing,
so soft, so amiable, that I felt myself insensibly
inclining to her with an affectionate regard. " If
it was not for that little gush," as Dr. Delap
said,1 I should certainly have taken a very great
fancy to her : but tears so ready — oh, they blot
out my fair opinion of her ! Yet whenever I am
with her, I like, nay, almost love her, for her
manners are exceedingly captivating ; but when
I quit her, I do not find that she improves by
being thought over — no, nor talked over ; for Mrs.
Thrale, who is always disposed to half adore her
in her presence, can never converse about her
without exciting her own contempt by recapitu-
lating what has passed. This, however, must
always be certain, whatever may be doubtful, that
she is a girl in no respect like any other.

1 See ante, p. 240.
VOL. I T

274 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

But I have not yet done with the mother : I
have told you of her vivacity and her mimicry,
but her character is yet not half told. She has
a kind of whimsical conceit, and odd affectation,
that, joined to a very singular sort of humour,
makes her always seem to be rehearsing some
scene in a comedy. She takes off, if she mentions
them, all her own children, and, though she quite
adores them, renders them ridiculous with all her
power. She laughs at herself for her smallness
and for her vagaries, just with the same ease and
ridicule as if she were speaking of some other
person ; and, while perpetually hinting at being old
and broken, she is continually frisking, flaunting,
and playing tricks, like a young coquette.

When I was introduced to her by Mrs. Thrale,
who said, "Give me leave, ma'am, to present to
you a friend of your daughter's — Miss Burney,"
she advanced to me with a tripping pace, and,
taking one of my fingers, said, "Allow me,
ma'am, will you, to create a little acquaintance
with you."

And, indeed, I readily entered into an alliance
with her, for I found nothing at Tunbridge half
so entertaining, except, indeed, Miss Birch, of
whom hereafter.

The next morning the S. S. breakfasted with
us ; and then they walked about to show me the
place.

The Sussex Hotel, where we lived, is situated
at the side of the Pantiles, or public walk, so
called because paved with pantiles ; it is called so
also, like the long room at Hampstead, because it
would be difficult to distinguish it by any other
name ; for it has no beauty in itself, and borrows
none from foreign aid, as it has only common
houses at one side, and little millinery and
Tunbridge- ware shops at the other, and at each

*."

£■

V V

i-H

^*V

§j

-J

•^

£3

^s.

4
K

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 275

end is choked up by buildings that intercept
all prospect. How such a place could first be
made a fashionable pleasure-walk, everybody must
wonder.

Tunbridge Wells is a place that to me appeared
very singular : the country is all rock, and every
part of it is either up or down hill, scarce ten
yards square being level ground in the whole
place : the houses, too, are scattered about in a
strange wild manner, and look as if they had been
dropped where they stand by accident, for they
form neither streets nor squares, but seem strewed
promiscuously, except, indeed, where the shop-
keepers live, who have got two or three dirty
little lanes, much like dirty little lanes in other
places.

Mrs. Streatfield and I increased our intimacy
marvellously. She gave me the name of "the
dove," for what reason I cannot guess, except it
be that the dove has a sort of greenish grey
eye,1 something like mine ; be that as it may,
she called me nothing else while I stayed at
Tunbridge.

In the evening we all went to the rooms.
The rooms, as they are called, consisted, for this
evening, of only one apartment, as there was not
company enough to make more necessary, and a
very plain, unadorned, and ordinary apartment
that was.

There were very few people, but among them
Mr. Wedderburne, the Attorney -General. You
may believe I rather wished to shrink from him,
if you recollect what Mrs. Thrale said of him,
among the rest of the Tunbridge coterie last

1 Dr. Delany, it may be remembered, found the same characteristics
in his second wife. She had "what Solomon calls dove's eyes," he
said.

276 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

season, who discussed Evelina regularly every
evening, and that he, siding with Mrs. Montagu,
cut up the Branghtons, and had, as well as Mrs.
Montagu, almost a quarrel with Mrs. Greville
upon the subject, because she so warmly vindi-
cated, or rather applauded, them. Lady Louisa,
however, I remember he spoke of with very high
praise, as Mrs. Montagu did of the Dedication ;
and if such folks can find anything to praise, I
find myself amply recompensed for their censures,
especially when they censure what I cannot regret
writing, since it is the part most favoured by Dr.
Johnson.

Mr. Wedderburne joined us immediately. Mrs.
Thrale presently said, "Mr. Wedderburne,1 I
must present my daughter to you, — and Miss
Burney."

I curtsied mighty gravely, and shuffled to the
other end of the party.

Amongst the company, I was most struck with

the Hon. Mrs. W , lately Miss T . She

ran away with a Mr. W , a man nearly old

enough to be her father, and of most notorious
bad character, both as a sharper and a libertine.
This wretch was with her — a most hackneyed,
ill-looking object as I ever saw ; and the foolish
girl, who seems scarce sixteen, and looks a raw
school-girl, has an air of so much discontent, and
seems in a state of such dismal melancholy, that
it was not possible to look at her without com-
passionating a folly she has so many years to live
regretting. I would not wish a more striking
warning to be given to other such forward,
adventurous damsels, than to place before them
this miserable runaway, who has not only disgraced

1 Alexander Wedderburn, 1733-1805, afterwards Baron Loughborough,
and first Earl of Rosslyn. At this date he was Attorney-General. He
is supposed to have been chiefly instrumental in obtaining Johnson's
pension in 1762.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 277

her family, and enraged her friends, but rendered
herself a repentant mourner for life.

The next morning we had the company of two
young ladies at breakfast — the S. S. and a Miss
Birch, a little girl but ten years old, whom the
S. S. invited, well foreseeing how much we should
all be obliged to her.

This Miss Birch is a niece of the charming
Mrs. Pleydell, and so like her that I should have
taken her for her daughter, yet she is not, now,
quite so handsome ; but as she will soon know how
to display her beauty to the utmost advantage, I
fancy, in a few years, she will yet more resemble
her lovely and most bewitching aunt. Everybody,
she said, tells her how like she is to her aunt
Pleydell.

As you, therefore, have seen that sweet woman,
only imagine her ten years old, and you will see
her sweet niece. Nor does the resemblance rest
with the person ; she sings like her, laughs
like her, talks like her, caresses like her, and
alternately softens and animates just like her.
Her conversation is not merely like that of a
woman already, but like that of a most un-
commonly informed, cultivated, and sagacious
woman ; and at the same time that her under-
standing is thus wonderfully premature, she can,
at pleasure, throw off all this rationality, and make
herself a mere playful, giddy, romping child. One
moment, with mingled gravity and sarcasm, she
discusses characters, and the next, with schoolgirl
spirits, she jumps round the room ; then, suddenly,
she asks, " Do you know such, or such a song ? "
and instantly, with mixed grace and buffoonery,
singles out an object, and sings it ; and then,
before there has been time to applaud her, she
runs into the middle of the room, to try some new

278 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

step in a dance ; and after all this, without waiting
till her vagaries grow tiresome, she flings herself,
with an affectionate air, upon somebody's lap, and
there, composed and thoughtful, she continues
quiet till she again enters into rational conversa-
tion.

Her voice is really charming — infinitely the
most powerful, as well as sweet, I ever heard at her
age. Were she well and constantly taught, she
might, I should think, do anything, — for, two or
three Italian songs, which she learnt out of only
five months' teaching by Parsons,1 she sung like
a little angel, with respect to taste, feeling, and
expression ; but she now learns of nobody, and
is so fond of French songs, for the sake, she says,
of the sentiment, that I fear she will have her
wonderful abilities all thrown away. Oh, how I
wish my father had the charge of her !

She has spent four years out of her little life in
France, which has made her distractedly fond of
the French operas, " Rose et Colas," " Annette et
Lubin,"2 etc., and she told us the story quite
through of several I never heard of, always sing-
ing the sujet when she came to the airs, and
comically changing parts in the duets. She speaks
French with the same fluency as English, and
every now and then, addressing herself to the
S. S. — " Que je vous adore!" — " Ah, permettez
que je me mette a vos pieds ! " etc., with a dying
languor that was equally laughable and lovely.

When I found, by her taught songs, what a
delightful singer she was capable of becoming, I
really had not patience to hear her little French
airs, and entreated her to give them up ; but the
little rogue instantly began pestering me with

1 Presumably William, afterwards Sir William Parsons, 1746-1817,
Professor of Music and Master of the King's band.

2 One-act versions by Charles Dibdin of these comic operas had just
been produced at Co vent Garden.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF ' EVELINA' 279

them, singing one after another Avith a comical sort
of malice, and following me round the room, when
I said I would not listen to her, to say, " But is not
this pretty ? — and this ? — and this ? " singing aw ay
with all her might and main.

She sung without any accompaniment, as we
had no instrument ; but the S. S. says she plays
too, very well. Indeed, I fancy she can do well
whatever she pleases.

We hardly knew how to get away from her
when the carriage was ready to take us from
Tunbridge, and Mrs. Thrale was so much en-
chanted with her that she went on the Pantiles
and bought her a very beautiful inkstand.

" I don't mean, Miss Birch," she said, when she
gave it her, " to present you this toy as to a child,
but merely to beg you will do me the favour to
accept something that may make you now and
then remember us."

She was much delighted with this present, and
told me, in a whisper, that she should put a draw-
ing of it in her journal.

So you see, Susy, other children have had this
whim. But something being said of novels, the
S. S. said,

" Selina, do you ever read them ? " — And, with
a sigh, the little girl answered,

" But too often ! — I wish I did not ! "

The only thing I did not like in this seducing
little creature was our leave-taking. The S. S.
had, as we expected, her fine eyes suffused with
tears, and nothing would serve the little Selina,
who admires the S. S. passionately, but that she,
also, must weep — and weep, therefore, she did,
and that in a manner as pretty to look at, as soft,
as melting, and as little to her discomposure, as
the weeping of her fair exemplar. The child's
success in this pathetic art made the tears of both

280 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

appear to the whole party to be lodged, as the
English merchant says, " very near the eyes ! "

Doubtful as it is whether we shall ever see this
sweet syren again, nothing, as Mrs. Thrale said to
her, can be more certain than that we shall hear
of her again, let her go whither she will.

Charmed as we all were with her, we all agreed
that to have the care of her would be distraction !
"She seems the girl in the world," Mrs. Thrale
wisely said, " to attain the highest reach of human
perfection as a man's mistress ! — as such she would
be a second Cleopatra, and have the world at her
command."

Poor thing ! I hope to Heaven she will escape
such sovereignty and such honours !

We left Tunbridge Wells, and got, by dinner
time, to our first stage, Uckfield, which afforded
me nothing to record, except two lines of a curious
epitaph which I picked up in the churchyard : —

A wife and eight little children had I,
And two at a birth who never did cry.

Our next stage brought us to Brighthelmstone,
where I fancy we shall stay till the Parliament
calls away Mr. Thrale.1

The morning after our arrival, our first visit was
from Mr. Kipping, the apothecary, a character so
curious that Foote designed him for his next piece,
before he knew he had already written his last.2
He is a prating, good-humoured, old gossip, who
runs on in as incoherent and unconnected a
style of discourse as Rose Fuller, though not so
tonish.

1 He was member for Southwark.

2 Foote died in 1777. He had spent his last summer at Brighton.
There was a Kipping, a surgeon, at 28 West Street in 1800 ; and it was a
Dr. Kipping who, in 1775, had attended "Single-Speech" Hamilton,
when he had a serious horse accident on Brighton Downs.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 281

The rest of the morning we spent, as usual at
this place, upon the Steyn, and in booksellers'
shops. Mrs. Thrale entered all our names at
Thomas's,1 the fashionable bookseller ; but we find
he has now a rival, situated also upon the Steyn,
who seems to carry away all the custom and all
the company. This is a Mr. Bowen, who is just
come from London, and who seems just the man
to carry the world before him as a shopkeeper.
Extremely civil, attentive to watch opportunities
of obliging, and assiduous to make use of them —
skilful in discovering the taste or turn of mind of
his customers, and adroit in putting in their way
just such temptations as they are least able to
withstand. Mrs. Thrale, at the same time that
she sees his management and contrivance, so much
admires his sagacity and dexterity, that, though
open-eyed, she is as easily wrought upon to part
with her money, as any of the many dupes in this
place, whom he persuades to require indispensably
whatever he shows them.

He did not, however, then at all suspect who I
was, for he showed me nothing but schemes for
raffles, and books, pocket-cases, etc., which were
put up for those purposes. It is plain I can
have no authoress air, since so discerning a book-
seller thought me a fine lady spendthrift, who only
wanted occasions to get rid of money.

In the evening we went to the rooms, which, at
this time, are open every other night at Shergold's,
or the New Assembly Rooms, and the alternate

1 R. Thomas's "Circulating Library" was on the east side of the
Steine. He had succeeded in 1774 to E. Baker, who had opened the
first library in Brighton in 1760. Mr. Bowen — Mrs. Th rale's prottg6 — was
the successor of the Miss Widgett mentioned at p. 226. He was a person
of courtly manners, and a serious source of anxiety to Thomas. " There
was a sort of rivalry," says Bishop, "between Mr. Thomas and Mr.
Bowen ... as to whose subscription-book should most justly deserve
the title of the ' Book of Numbers ' — ' names,' rather than character or
position in society, being regarded as of primary importance " (Brighton
in the Olden Time, 1892, pp. 112, 113, 118).

282 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

nights at Hick's, or the Ship Tavern.1 This night
they were at the latter.

There was very little company, and nobody that
any of us knew, except two or three gentlemen of
Mr. Thrale's acquaintance, among whom was that
celebrated wit and libertine, the Hon. Mr. Beau-
clerk,2 and a Mr. Newnham, a rich counsellor,
learned in the law, but, to me, a displeasing man.

Almost everybody but ourselves went to cards ;
we found it, therefore, pretty stupid, and I was
very glad when we came home.

Sunday morning, as we came out of church, we
saw Mrs. Cumberland,3 one of her sons, and both
her daughters. Mrs. Thrale spoke to them, but
I believe they did not recollect me. They are
reckoned the flashers of the place, yet everybody
laughs at them for their airs, affectations, and
tonish graces and impertinences.

In the evening, Mrs. Dickens,4 a lady of Mrs.
Thrale's acquaintance, invited us to drink tea at
the rooms with her, which we did, and found them
much more full and lively than the preceding night.

Mrs. Dickens is, in Mrs. Thrale's phrase, a
sensible, hard-headed woman, and her daughter,
Miss Dickens, who accompanied us, is a pretty
girl of fifteen, who is always laughing, not, how-
ever from folly, as she deserves the same epithet I
have given her mother, but from youthful good-

1 "Shergold's" was the Castle Inn, in Castle Square, pulled down
in 1823; " Hicks's," the Old Ship Tavern in Ship Street. Both had
Public Rooms, where Dress Balls and Card Assemblies were held through-
out the Season.

2 The Hon. Topham Beauelerk, 1730-80, Johnson's friend, and grand-
son of the first Duke of St. Albans. He was an original member of the
Literary Club. He died not long after the mention of him here (March
11, 1780).

3 The wife of Cumberland the dramatist. The daughters were no
doubt the two elder girls, — Elizabeth, afterwards Lady Bentinck, and
Sophia, afterwards Mrs. Badcock.

4 Mrs. Dickens was probably the wife of the grandson of Mrs. Thrale's
friend, Richard Scrase.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 283

humour, and from having from nature, as Mr.
Thrale comically said to her, after examining her
some minutes, " a good merry face of her own."

The folks of most consequence with respect to
rank, who were at the rooms this night, were Lady
Pembroke,1 and Lady Di Beauclerk,2 both of whom
have still very pleasing remains of the beauty for
which they have been so much admired. But the
present beauty, whose remains our children (i.e.
nieces) may talk of, is a Mrs. Musters, an exceed-
ing pretty woman, who is the reigning toast of
the season.3

While Mrs. Thrale, Mrs. Dickens, and I were
walking about after tea, we were joined by a Mr.
Cure, a gentleman of the former's acquaintance.
After a little while he said,

" Miss Thrale is very much grown since she was
here last year ; and besides, I think she's vastly
altered."

"Do you, sir," cried she, "I can't say I think
so.

" Oh, vastly ! — but young ladies at that age are
always altering. To tell you the truth, I did not
know her at all."

This, for a little while, passed quietly ; but soon
after, he exclaimed,

"Ma'am, do you know I have not yet read
Evelina ? "

1 Lady Pembroke, d. 1831, was the second daughter of Charles
Spencer, second Duke of Marlborough, and sister of Lady Di Beauclerk.
She was the wife of Henry, tenth Earl of Pembroke, 1 734-94.

2 Lady Diana Beauclerk, 1734-1808, was the eldest daughter of the second
Duke of Marlborough. Her first husband was Viscount Bolingbroke,
from whom she was divorced. She was a clever amateur artist, who
illustrated Dryden's Fables and Walpole's Mysterious Mother. A memoir
of her by Mrs. Steuart Erskine was published in 1903.

3 Mother of the J. Musters, who married Byron's first love, Mary
Chaworth. Mrs. Barrett repeats "an anecdote of this lady, related by a
gentleman still (1842) living at Brighton. He remembers meeting Mrs.
Musters at the ball mentioned by Miss Burney, and being requested to
give her a glass of water, it was turbid and chalky ; upon which she said,
as she drank it, ' Chalk is thought to be a cure for the heart-burn : — I
wonder whether it will cure the heart-ache ? ' "

284 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

" Have not you so, sir ? " cried she, laughing.

" No, and I think I never shall, for there's no
getting it ; the booksellers say they never can keep
it a moment, and the folks that hire it keep lend-
ing it from one to another in such a manner that
it is never returned to the library. It's very
provoking."

" But," said Mrs. Thrale, " what makes you ex-
claim about it so to me ? "

" Why, because, if you recollect, the last thing
you said to me when we parted last year, was — ' Be
sure you read Evelina.' So as soon as I saw you I
recollected it all again. But I wish Miss Thrale
would turn more this way."

" Why, what do you mean, Mr. Cure ? do you
know Miss Thrale now ? "

" Yes, to be sure," answered he, looking full at
me, " though I protest I should not have guessed
at her had I seen her with anybody but you."

" Oh, ho !" cried Mrs. Thrale, laughing, "so you
mean Miss Burney all this time."

" What ?— how ?— eh ?— why is that— is not that
Miss Thrale ? is not that your daughter ? "

" No to be sure it is not — I wish she was ! "

Mr. Cure looked aghast, Mrs. Dickens laughed
aloud, and I, the whole time, had been obliged to
turn my head another way, that my sniggering
might not sooner make him see his mistake.

As soon, I suppose, as he was able, Mr. Cure in
a low voice repeated, " Miss Burney ! so then that
lady is the authoress of Evelina all this time."

And, rather abruptly, he left us and joined
another party.

I suppose he told his story to as many as he
talked to, for, in a short time, I found myself so
violently stared at that I could hardly look any
way without being put quite out of countenance,
— particularly by young Mr. Cumberland, a hand-

1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 285

some, soft-looking youth, who fixed his eyes upon
me incessantly, though but the evening before,
when I saw him at Hick's,1 he looked as if it
would have been a diminution of his dignity to
have regarded me twice.

This ridiculous circumstance will, however,
prevent any more mistakes of the same kind, I
believe, as my " authorshipness " seems now pretty
well known and spread about Brighthelmstone.
[The very next morning as Miss Thrale and I
entered Bowen's shop, where we were appointed to
meet Mrs. Thrale, I heard her saying to him, as
they were both in serious and deep confabulation :
" So you have picked up all this, Mr. Bowen, have
you ? " then, seeing me, " Oh, ho ! " she cried, " so
one never is to speak of anybody at Brighthelm-
stone, but they are to be at one's elbow."

" I presume," quoth I, " you were scarcely
speaking of me ? "

"No, but I was hearing of you from Mr.
Bowen."

And when we left the shop she told me that he
had said to her, " Oh, ma'am, what a book thrown
away was that ! All the trade cry shame on
Lowndes. Not, ma'am, that I expected he could
have known its worth, because that's out of the
question ; but when its profits told him what it
was, it's quite scandalous that he should have done
nothing ! quite ungentlemanlike indeed ! "

There's a bookseller for you, Susy ! ]

And now, if by the mention of a ball, I have
raised in you any expectations of adventures, which
with Charlotte, at least, I doubt not has been the
case, — I am sorry to be obliged to blast them all by
confessing that none at all happened.

One thing, however, proved quite disagreeable
to me, and that was the whole behaviour of the

1 See ante, p. 282.

286 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

whole tribe of the Cumberlands, which I must
explain.

Mr. Cumberland, when he saw Mrs. Thrale, flew
with eagerness to her and made her take his seat,
and he talked to her, with great friendliness and
intimacy, as he has been always accustomed to
do, — and inquired very particularly concerning her
daughter, expressing an earnest desire to see her.
But when, some time after, Mrs. Thrale said, " Oh,
there is my daughter, with Miss Burney," he
changed the discourse abruptly, — never came near
Miss Thrale, and neither then nor since, when he
has met Mrs. Thrale, has again mentioned her
name : and the whole evening he seemed determined
to avoid us both.

Mrs. Cumberland contented herself with only
looking at me as at a person she had no reason or
business to know.

The two daughters, but especially the eldest, as
well as the son, were by no means so quiet ; they
stared at me every time I came near them as if I
had been a thing for a show ; surveyed me from
head to foot, and then again, and again, and again
returned to my face, with so determined and so
unabating a curiosity, that it really made me
uncomfortable.

All the folks here impute the whole of this
conduct to its having transpired that I am to bring
out a play this season ; for Mr. Cumberland, though
in all other respects an agreeable and a good man,
is so notorious for hating and envying and spiting
all authors in the dramatic line, that he is hardly
decent in his behaviour towards them.

He has little reason, at present at least, to bear
me any ill-will ; but if he is capable of such weak-
ness and malignity as to have taken an aversion to
me merely because I can make use of pen and ink,
he deserves not to hear of my having suppressed

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 287

my play, or of anything else that can gratify so
illiberal a disposition.

Dr. Johnson, Mr. Cholmondeley, and Mr. and
Mrs. Thrale have all repeatedly said to me,
" Cumberland no doubt hates you heartily by this
time " ; but it always appeared to me a speech of
mingled fun and flattery, and I never dreamed of
its being possible to be true. However, perhaps
yet all this may be accidental, so I will discuss the
point no longer.

A few days since we drank tea at Mrs. Dickens's,
where, with other company, we met Sir John and

Lady S -1 Sir John prides himself in being a

courtier of the last age. He is abominably ugly,
and a prodigious puffer, — now of his fortune, now
of his family, and now of his courtly connections
and feats. His lady is a beautiful woman, tall,
genteel, and elegant in her person, with regular
features, and a fine complexion. For the rest, she
is well-bred, gentle, and amiable.

She invited us all to tea at her house the next
evening, where we met Lady Pembroke, whose
character, as far as it appears, seems exactly the

same as Lady S 's. But the chief employment

of the evening was listening to Sir John's braga-
docios of what the old king said to him, — which of
the ladies of quality were his cousins, — how many
acres of land he enjoyed in Sussex, — and other
such modest discourse.

After tea, we all went to the rooms, Lady
Pembroke having first retired. There was a great
deal of company, and among them the Cumber-
lands. The eldest of the girls, who was walking
with Mrs. Musters, quite turned round her whole

1 Shelley. Sir John Shelley, d. 1783, Keeper of the Records in the
Tower and Clerk of the Pipe. His second wife was Elizabeth Woodcock,
to whom he was married in 1775.

288 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

person every time we passed each other, to keep
me in sight, and stare at me as long as possible ; so
did her brother. I never saw anything so ill-bred
and impertinent ; I protest I was ready to quit the
rooms to avoid them ; till at last Miss Thrale,
catching Miss Cumberland's eye, gave her so full,
determined, and downing a stare, that whether
cured by shame or by resentment, she forbore
from that time to look at either of us. Miss
Thrale, with a sort of good-natured dryness, said,
" Whenever you are disturbed with any of these
starers, apply to me, — I'll warrant I'll cure them.
I daresay the girl hates me for it ; but what shall
I be the worse for that ? I would have served
master Dickey so too, only I could not catch his
eye."

Oct. 20. — Last Tuesday, at the request of

Lady S , who patronised a poor actor, we all

went to the play, — which was Dryden's Tempest,1 —
and a worse performance have I seldom seen.
Shakspeare's Tempest, which for fancy, invention,
and originality, is at the head of beautiful improb-
abilities, is rendered by the additions of Dryden a
childish chaos of absurdity and obscenity ; and the
grossness and awkwardness of these poor unskilful
actors rendered all that ought to have been obscure
so shockingly glaring, that there was no attending
to them without disgust. All that afforded me
any entertainment was looking at Mr. Thrale, who
turned up his nose with an expression of contempt
at the beginning of the performance, and never
suffered it to return to its usual place till it was
ended !

The play was ordered by Mrs. Cumberland.
These poor actors never have any company in the
boxes unless they can prevail upon some lady to

1 The Tempest; or, the Enchanted Island, 1670. The Brighton theatre
of this date was in North Street.

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1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 289

bespeak a play, and desire her acquaintance to go
to it. But we all agreed we should not have been
very proud to have had our names at the head of a
play-bill of Dryden's Tempest.

By the way, Mrs. Cumberland has never once
waited on Mrs. Thrale since our arrival, though,
till now, she always seemed proud enough of the
acquaintance. Very strange ! Mr. Cumberland,
after a week's consideration and delay, called at
last, and chatted with Mr. and Mrs. Thrale very
sociably and agreeably. I happened to be up-
stairs, and felt no great desire, you may believe,
to go down, and Mrs. Thrale archly enough said
afterwards,

" I would have sent to you, but hang it, thought
I, if I only name her, this man will snatch his hat
and make off ! "

The other morning the two Misses came into
Thomas's shop while we were there, and the eldest,
as usual, gave me, it seems, the honour of employ-
ing her eyes the whole time she stayed.

We afterwards met them on the Steyn, and
they curtsied to Mrs. Thrale, who stopt and
inquired after their father, and then a dawdling
conversation took place.

"How were you entertained at the play, ma'am ?
— did you ever see anything so full ? "

" Oh," cried Mrs. Thrale, " the ladies are all
dying of it ! such holding up of fans ! "

" Oh, because it was so hot," cried Miss Cum-
berland, entirely misunderstanding her : " it was
monstrous hot, indeed ! "

The next time I meet them, I intend to
try if I can stop this their staring system, by
courtesying to them immediately. I think it will
be impossible, if I claim them as acquaintance,
that they can thus rudely fasten their eyes
upon me.

vol. i u

290 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

We have had a visit from Dr. Delap. He told
me that he had another tragedy, and that I should
have it to read.

He was very curious to see Mr. Cumberland,
who, it seems, has given evident marks of dis-
pleasure at his name whenever Mrs. Thrale has
mentioned it. That poor man is so wonderfully
narrow-minded in his authorship capacity, though
otherwise good, humane, and generous, that he
changes countenance at either seeing or hearing of
any writer whatsoever. Mrs. Thrale, with whom,
this foible excepted, he is a great favourite, is so
enraged with him for his littleness of soul in this
respect, that merely to plague him, she vowed at
the rooms she would walk all the evening between
Dr. Delap and me. I wished so little to increase
his unpleasant feelings, that I determined to keep
with Miss Thrale and Miss Dickens entirely. One
time, though, Mrs. Thrale, when she was sitting
by Dr. Delap, called me suddenly to her, and when
I was seated, said, " Now let's see if Mr. Cumber-
land will come and speak to me ! " But he always
turns resolutely another way when he sees her
with either of us ; though at all other times he is
particularly fond of her company.

" It would actually serve him right," says she,
"to make Dr. Delap and you strut at each side of
me, one with a dagger, and the other with a mask,
as tragedy and comedy."

" I think, Miss Burney," said the doctor, " you
and I seem to stand in the same predicament.
What shall we do for the poor man ? suppose we
burn a play apiece ? "

"Depend upon it," said Mrs. Thrale, "he has
heard, in town, that you are both to bring one out
this season, and perhaps one of his own may be
deferred on that account."

" Well, he's a fine man," cried the doctor ;

1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 291

"pray, Miss Burney, show me him when you see
him."

On the announcement of the carriage, we went
into the next room for our cloaks, where Mrs.
Thrale and Mr. Cumberland were in deep conver-
sation.

" Oh, here's Miss Burney ! " said Mrs. Thrale
aloud. Mr. Cumberland turned round, but with-
drew his eyes instantly ; and I, determined not to
interrupt them, made Miss Thrale walk away with
me. In about ten minutes she left him, and we
all came home.

As soon as we were in the carriage,

" It has been," said Mrs. Thrale warmly, "all I
could do not to affront Mr. Cumberland to-night ! "

" Oh, I hope not ! " cried I ; " I would not have
you for the world ! "

" Why, I have refrained ; but with great diffi-
culty!"

And then she told me the conversation she had
just had with him. As soon as I made off, he
said, with a spiteful tone of voice,

" Oh, that young lady is an author, I hear ! "

"Yes," answered Mrs. Thrale, "author of
Evelina ! "

" Humph, — I am told it has some humour ! "

" Ay, indeed ! Johnson says nothing like it
has appeared for years ! "

" So," cried he, biting his lips, and waving
uneasily in his chair, " so, so ! "

" Yes," continued she, " and Sir Joshua Reynolds
told Mr. Thrale he would give fifty pounds to know
the author ! "

" So, so — oh, vastly well ! " cried he, putting his
hand on his forehead.

"Nay," added she, "Burke himself sat up all
night to finish it ! "

292 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

This seemed quite too much for him ; he put
both his hands to his face, and waving backwards
and forwards, said,

" Oh, vastly well ! — this will do for anything ! "
with a tone as much as to say, Pray, no more !
Then Mrs. Thrale bid him good-night, longing,
she said, to call Miss Thrale first, and say, "So
you won't speak to my daughter ? — why, she is no
author ! "

I much rejoice that she did not, and I have
most earnestly entreated her not to tell this
anecdote to anybody here, for I really am much
concerned to have ever encountered this sore man,
who, if already he thus burns with envy at the
success of my book, will, should he find his narrow-
ness of mind resented by me, or related by my
friends, not only wish me ill, but do me every ill
office hereafter in his power. Indeed, I am quite
shocked to find how he avoids and determines to
dislike me ; for hitherto I have always been willing
and able to hope that I had not one real enemy or
ill-wisher in the world. I shall still, however,
hope, if I can but keep Mrs. Thrale's indignant
warmth of friendship within bounds, to somewhat
conciliate matters, and prevent any open enmity,
which authorises all ill deeds, from taking place.
All authorship contention I shudder to think of.

I must now have the honour to present to you a
new acquaintance, who this day dined here — Mr.

B y, an Irish gentleman, late a commissary in

Germany. He is between sixty and seventy, but
means to pass for about thirty ; gallant, com-
plaisant, obsequious, and humble to the fair sex,
for whom he has an awful reverence ; but when
not immediately addressing them, swaggering,
blustering, puffing, and domineering. These are
his two apparent characters ; but the real man

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 293

is worthy, moral, religious, though conceited and
parading.

He is as fond of quotations as my poor " Lady
Smatter" 1 and, like her, knows little beyond a song,
and always blunders about the author of that. His
language greatly resembles Rose Fuller's, who, as
Mrs. Thrale well says, when as old, will be much
such another personage. His whole conversation
consists in little French phrases, picked up during
his residence abroad, and in anecdotes and story-
telling, which are sure to be retold daily and daily
in the same words.

Having given you this general sketch, I will
endeavour to illustrate it by some specimens ; but
you must excuse their being unconnected, and only
such as I can readily recollect.

Speaking of the ball in the evening, to which
we were all going, " Ah, madam ! " said he to Mrs.
Thrale, "there was a time when — tol-de rol, tol-
de-rol [rising, and dancing, and singing], tol-de-rol !
— I could dance with the best of them ; but, now
a man, forty and upwards, as my Lord Ligonier2
used to say — but — tol-de-rol ! — there was a time ! "

"Ay, so there was, Mr. B y," said Mrs.

Thrale, "and I think you and I together made a
very venerable appearance ! "

" Ah ! madam, I remember once, at Bath, I was
called out to dance with one of the finest young
ladies I ever saw. I was just preparing to do my
best, when a gentleman of my acquaintance was so

cruel as to whisper me, ' B y ! the eyes of all

Europe are upon you ! ' — for that was the phrase

of the times. ' B y ! ' says he, * the eyes of all

Europe are upon you ! ' — I vow, ma'am, enough to
make a man tremble! — tol-de-rol, tol-de-rol!

1 A character in The Witlings, regarded by Mrs. Thrale as meant for
herself.

2 John, Earl Ligonier, 1678-1770. Reynolds painted him.

294 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

[dancing] — the eyes of all Europe are upon you !
— I declare, ma'am, enough to put a man out of
countenance ! "

Dr. Delap, who came here some time after, was
speaking of Horace.

" Ah ! madam," cried Mr. B y, " this Latin

— things of that kind — we waste our youth, ma'am,
in these vain studies. For my part I wish I had
spent mine in studying French and Spanish — more
useful, ma'am. But, bless me, ma'am, what time
have I had for that kind of thing ? Travelling
here, over the ocean, hills and dales, ma'am — read-
ing the great book of the world — poor ignorant
mortals, ma'am, — no time to do anything ! "

"Ay, Mr. B y," said Mrs. Thrale, "I

remember how you downed Beauclerk and
Hamilton, the wits, once at our house, when they
talked of ghosts ! "

" Ah ! ma'am, give me a brace of pistols, and I
warrant I'll manage a ghost for you ! Not but
Providence may please to send little spirits —
guardian angels, ma'am — to watch us : that I
can't speak about. It would be presumptuous,
ma'am — for what can a poor, ignorant mortal
know ? "

" Ay, so you told Beauclerk and Hamilton."

"Oh yes, ma'am. Poor human beings can't
account for anything — and call themselves esprits
forts, I vow 'tis presumptuous, ma'am ! Esprits
forts, indeed ! they can see no farther than their
noses, poor, ignorant mortals ! Here's an admiral,
and here's a prince, and here's a general, and here's
a dipper — and poor Smoker, the bather, ma'am !
What's all this strutting about, and that kind of
thing ? and then they can't account for a blade of
grass ! "

After this, Dr. Johnson being mentioned,

" Ay," said he, " I'm sorry he did not come

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 295

down with you. I liked him better than those
others : not much of a fine gentleman, indeed, but
a clever fellow — a deal of knowledge — got a deuced
good understanding ! "

Dr. Delap rather abruptly asked my christian

name: Mrs. Thrale answered, and Mr. B y

tenderly repeated,

" Fanny ! a prodigious pretty name, and a pretty
lady that bears it. Fanny ! Ah ! how beautiful is
that song of Swift's —

" When Fanny, blooming fair,1

First caught my ravished sight,
Struck with her mien and air — "

"Her face and air," interrupted Mrs. Thrale,
"for ' mien and air ' we hold to be much the same
thing."

" Right, ma'am, right ! You, ma'am — why,
ma'am — you know everything ; but, as to me — to
be sure, I began with studying the old Greek and
Latin, ma'am : but, then, travelling, ma'am ! —
going through Germany, and then France, and
Spain, ma'am ! and dipping at Brighthelmstone,
over hills and dales, reading the great book of the
world ! Ay, a little poetry now and then, to be
sure, I have picked up.

" My Phoebe and I,
O'er hills, and o'er dales, and o'er valleys will fly,
And love shall be by !

But, as you say, ma'am ! —

" Struck with her face and air,
I felt a strange delight !

1 Lady Fanny Shirley, d. 1778, daughter of the Countess Dowager of
Ferrers. Walpole mentions her in the Twickenham Register, 1759 : —

Where Fanny, " ever- blooming fair,"
Ejaculates the graceful pray'r,
And, 'scap'd from sense, with nonsense smit,
For Whitefield's cant leaves Stanhope's wit.

296 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

How pretty that is : how progressive from the first
sight of her ! Ah ! Swift was a fine man ! "

" Why, sir, I don't think it's printed in his
works ! " said Dr. Delap.

" No ! " said Mrs. Thrale, " because 'tis Chester-
field's!"1

"Ay, right, right, ma'am ! so it is."

Now, if I had heard all this before I wrote my
play, would you not have thought I had borrowed
the hint of my Witlings from Mr. B y ?

"I am glad, Mr. Thrale," continued this hero,
"you have got your fireplace altered. Why,
ma'am, there used to be such a wind, there was
no sitting here. Admirable dinners — excellent
company — tres bon fare — and, all the time, ' Signor
Vento ' coming down the chimney ! Do you re-
member, Miss Thrale, how, one day at dinner, you
burst out a -laughing, because I said a tres bon
goose ? "

But if I have not now given you some idea of

Mr. B y's conversation, I never can, for I have

written almost as many words as he ever uses, and
given you almost as many ideas as he ever starts !
And as he almost lives here, it is fitting I let you
know something of him.

Well, in the evening we all went to the ball,

where we had appointed to meet Lady S , Mrs.

Dickens, and Mr., Mrs., and the Misses S , of

Lewes.

The eldest Miss S had for a partner a most

1 This is not so sure. It was more probably by the dramatist Thomas
Philips, to whom it is assigned in the Daily Post in 1733, and in the
account of Philips's death in the same paper for March 12, 1738-39.
Nevertheless Chesterfield allowed it to be included in vol. i. of Dodsley's
Collection with certain pieces written by him. There is a touching
reference to Lady Fanny in Walpole's letter to Mann of July 16,
1778 : — " ' Fanny, blooming fair,' died here yesterday of a stroke of
palsy. She had lost her memory for some years, and remembered
nothing but her beauty and not her Methodism. Being confined with
only servants, she was continually lamenting, * I to be abandoned that
all the world used to adore.' She was seventy-two."

1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 297

odiously vulgar young man, short, thick, and totally
underbred.

"I wonder," said she to me, between one of
the dances, " what my partner's name is — do you
know ? "

" I am not sure," quoth I, " but I fancy Mr.
Squab ! "

"Mr. Squab!" repeated she. "Well, I don't
like him at all. Pray, do you know who that
gentleman is that jumps so?" pointing to Mr.
Cure.

" Yes," answered I, " 'tis a Mr. Kill ! "

" Well," cried she, " I don't like his dancing at
all. I wonder who that officer is ? " pointing to a
fat, coarse sort of a man, who stooped immoder-
ately.

" Captain Slouch," quoth I.

" Well," said she, " I think the people here have
very odd names ! "

And thus, though the names I gave them were
merely and markingly descriptive of their persons,
did this little noodle and her sister instantly believe
them.

When the dancing was over, and we walked
about, Mr. Cure, with his usual obsequiousness,
came to speak to me, and for awhile joined us ;
and these girls, who penned me between them,
tittered, and pinched me, and whispered observa-
tions upon " Mr. Kill," till I was obliged to assume
the most steady gravity, to prevent his discovering
how free I had made with him.

Just before we came away, Mr. S came up

to his daughter, and said, " Pray, my dear, who was
the gentleman you danced with ? "

" Mr. Squab, papa," answered she.

"A good, tight young man," said Mr. S .

" I must go and make a bow to him before we go."

All the Cumberlands were there. Mr. Cumber-

298 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

land avoids Miss Thrale as much as he does me,
merely, I suppose, because she is commonly with
me. However, if such is his humour, he was not
made too happy this night, for Mrs. Thrale told
me, that while she was seated next him, as he was
playing at cards, Dr. Delap came to her, and began
singing my eloge, and saying how I should be adored
in France ; that that was the paradise of lady wits,
and that, for his part, if he had not known I
was Dr. Burney's daughter, he thought I had so
much a French face and look 1 that he should have
guessed me for a daughter of Voltaire's, — and other
such speeches, all of which, I fear, were so many
torments to poor Mr. Cumberland.

" But," said Mrs. Thrale, " let him be tormented,
if such things can torment him. For my part I'd
have a starling taught to halloo Evelina ! " 2

I am absolutely almost ill with laughing. This

Mr. B y half convulses me ; yet I cannot make

you laugh by writing his speeches, because it is the
manner which accompanies them, that, more than
the matter, renders them so peculiarly ridiculous.
His extreme pomposity, the solemn stiffness of his
person, the conceited twinkling of his little old
eyes, and the quaint importance of his delivery,
are so much more like some pragmatical old cox-
comb represented on the stage, than like anything
in real and common life, that I think, were I a man,
I should sometimes be betrayed into clapping him
for acting so well. As it is, I am sure no character
in any comedy I ever saw has made me laugh more
extravagantly.

He dines and spends the evening here constantly,
to my great satisfaction.

1 Miss Burney — like the Miss Berrys — is said to have been French-
looking. She was, of course, of French extraction on the mother's side.

2 Cf. 1 Henry IV. Act I. Sc. iii.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 299

At dinner, when Mrs. Thrale offers him a seat
next her, he regularly says,

" But where are les charmantes ? " meaning Miss
T. and me. " I can do nothing till they are
accommodated ! "

And, whenever he drinks a glass of wine, he
never fails to touch either Mrs. Thrale's, or my
glass, with " est 41 per mis ? "

But at the same time that he is so courteous,
he is proud to a most sublime excess, and thinks
every person to whom he speaks honoured beyond
measure by his notice, nay, he does not even look
at anybody without evidently displaying that such
notice is more the effect of his benign condescen-
sion, than of any pretension on their part to deserve
such a mark of his perceiving their existence. But
you will think me mad about this man.

By far the best among our men acquaintance
here, and him whom, next to Mr. Selwyn, I like
the best, is a Mr. Tidy. You will probably suspect,
as Lady Hesketh did last night when she met him
here, that this is a nickname only, whereas he hath
not, heaven knows, a better in the world ! He
appears a grave, reserved, quiet man ; but he is a
sarcastic, observing, and ridiculing man. No trust-
ing to appearances, no, not even to wigs ! for a
meaner, more sneaking and pitiful wig, — a wig that
less bespeaks a man worth twopence in his pocket,
or two ideas in his head, did I never see than that
of Mr. Tidy.

But the most agreeable part of the evening was
the time I spent with Mr. Selwyn. to whom I have
taken a prodigious fancy,1 and a very odd one you
will say if you inquire the " peticklers," for it is

1 Mr. Selwyn was a wealthy and elderly banker (of Paris), who admired
Miss Burney in return. But Mrs. Thrale thought him too old for a
husband to her friend.

300 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

neither for brilliancy, talents, wit, person, nor
youth, since he is possessed of none of these ; but
the fact is, he appears to me uncommonly good,
full of humanity, generosity, delicacy, and bene-
volence.

[One time, while Mrs. and Miss Thrale and I
were parading up and down, he came to us laughing,
and said,

" A gentleman has this moment been asking
Lord Seftcn who is the lady in the hat (N.B., I
only had one) ? * What ! ' answered his lordship,
' did you never read ? ' "

He stopped and bit his lips, and I bit mine, and
whisked to the other side.

I wonder if ever I shall cease feeling awkward
at the first attack of every fresh attacker upon this
subject ?]

• •»...

Do you know I have been writing to Dr.
Johnson ! I tremble to mention it ; but he sent
a message in a letter to Mrs. Thrale, to wonder
why his pupils did not write to him, and to hope
they did not forget him : Miss Thrale, therefore,
wrote a letter immediately, and I added only this
little postscript :

" P.S. — Dr. Johnson's other pupil a little longs
to add a few lines to this letter, — but knows too
well that all she has to say might be comprised in
signing herself his obliged and most obedient serv-
ant, F. B. : so that's better than a long rigmarole
about nothing."

Nov. 3. — Last Monday we went again to the

ball. Mr. B y, who was there, and seated

himself next to Lady Pembroke, at the top of the
room, looked most sublimely happy ! — He con-
tinues still to afford me the highest diversion.
Rose Fuller was never half so entertaining ; and

1779 THE AUTHOR OF « EVELINA' 301

Mr. Selwyn, who has long known him, and has all
his stories and sayings by heart, studies to recollect
all his favourite topics, and tells me beforehand
what he will say upon the subject he prepares me
for leading him to. Indeed, between him and
Mrs. Thrale, almost all he has to say is almost
exhausted.

As he is notorious for his contempt of all artists,
whom he looks upon with little more respect than
upon day-labourers, the other day, when painting
was discussed, he spoke of Sir Joshua Reynolds
as if he had been upon a level with a carpenter or
farrier.

" Did you ever," said Mrs. Thrale, " see his
* Nativity'?"

"No, madam, — but I know his pictures very
well ; I knew him many years ago, in Minorca ; 1
he drew my picture there, — and then he knew how
to take a moderate price ; but now, I vow, ma'am,
'tis scandalous — scandalous indeed ! to pay a fellow
here seventy guineas for scratching out a head ! "

" Sir," cried Dr. Delap, "you must not run down
Sir Joshua Reynolds, because he is Miss Burney's
friend."

" Sir," answered he, " I don't want to run the
man down ; I like him well enough in his proper
place ; he is as decent as any man of that sort I
ever knew ; but for all that, sir, his prices are
shameful. Why, he would not [looking at the
poor doctor with an enraged contempt] he would
not do your head under seventy guineas ! "

"Well," said Mrs. Thrale, "he had one por-
trait2 at the last exhibition, that I think hardly

1 Reynolds was at Port Mahon, Minorca, in 1749 as the guest of the
Governor, General Blakeney.

2 This must have been the portrait exhibited in this year of Andrew
Stuart (d. 1801), the Scotch agent for the opponents of the filiation of
the Douglas in the famous Douglas cause, and the author of the Letters
to Lord Mansfield on that cause, 1773.

302 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

could be paid enough for ; it was of a Mr. Stuart ;
I had never done admiring it."

" What stuff is this, ma'am ! " cried Mr.

B y, " how can two or three dabs of paint ever

be worth such a sum as that ? "

" Sir," said Mr. Selwyn (always willing to draw
him out), "you know not how much he is im-
proved since you knew him in Minorca ; he is
now the finest painter, perhaps, in the world."

"Pho, pho, sir," cried he, "how can you talk
so ? you, Mr. Selwyn, who have seen so many
capital pictures abroad ? "

" Come, come, sir," said the ever odd Dr.
Delap, "you must not go on so undervaluing
him, for, I tell you, he is a friend of Miss
Burney's."

" Sir," said Mr. B y, " I tell you again I

have no objection to the man ; I have dined in
his company two or three times ; a very decent
man he is, fit to keep company with gentlemen ;
but, ma'am, what are all your modern dabblers
put together to one ancient ? nothing ! — a set of —
not a Rubens among them ! I vow, ma'am, not a
Rubens among them ! "

But, perhaps, his contempt of Dr. Delap's plea
that he was my friend, may make you suppose
that I am not in his good graces ; whereas I
assure you it is not so ; for the other evening,
when they were all at cards, I left the room
for some time, and, on my return, Mr. Selwyn
said,

" Miss Burney, do not your cheeks tingle ? "

"No," quoth I, "why should they?"

" From the conversation that has just passed,"
answered he ; and afterwards I heard from Mrs.

Thrale, that Mr. B y had been singing my

praises, and pronouncing me " a dear little
char mantel

1779 THE AUTHOR OF ' EVELINA' 303

Brighthelmstone. — To go on with the subject I
left off with last — my favourite subject you will

think it — Mr. B y. I must inform you that

his commendation was more astonishing to me
than anybody's could be, as I had really taken it
for granted he had hardly noticed my existence.
But he has also spoken very well of Dr. Delap —
that is to say, in a very condescending manner.
" That Dr. Delap," said he, " seems a good sort of
man ; I wish all the cloth were like him ; but,
lackaday ! 'tis no such thing ; the clergy in general
are but odd dogs."

Whenever plays are mentioned, we have also a
regular speech about them.

" I never," he says, " go to a tragedy, — it's too
affecting ; tragedy enough in real life : tragedies
are only fit for fair females ; for my part, I cannot
bear to see Othello tearing about in that violent
manner; — and fair little Desdemona — ma'am, 'tis
too affecting ! to see your kings and your princes
tearing their pretty locks, — oh, there's no standing-
it ! 'A straw-crown'd monarch,' — what is that,
Mrs. Thrale ?

"A straw-crown'd monarch in mock majesty.

I can't recollect now where that is ; but for my
part I really cannot bear to see such sights. And
then out come the white handkerchiefs, and all
their pretty eyes are wiping, and then come poison
and daggers, and all that kind of thing, — Oh
ma'am, 'tis too much ; but yet the fair tender
hearts, the pretty little females, all like it ! "

This speech, word for word, I have already
heard from him literally four times.

When Mr. Garrick was mentioned, he honoured
him with much the same style of compliment as
he had done Sir Joshua Reynolds.

" Ay, ay," said he, " that Garrick was another

304 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

of those fellows that people run mad about.
Ma'am, 'tis a shame to think of such things ! an
actor living like a person of quality ! scandalous !
I vow, scandalous ! "

" Well, — commend me to Mr. B y ! " cried

Mrs. Thrale, "for he is your only man to put
down all the people that everybody else sets up."

"Why, ma'am," answered he, "I like all these
people very well in their proper places ; but to see
such a set of poor beings living like persons of
quality, — 'tis preposterous ! common sense, madam,
common sense is against that kind of thing. As
to Garrick, he was a very good mimic, an enter-
taining fellow enough, and all that kind of thing ;
but for an actor to live like a person of quality —
oh, scandalous ! "

Some time after, the musical tribe was men-
tioned. He was at cards at the time with Mr.
Selwyn, Dr. Delap, and Mr. Thrale, while we
" fair females," as he always calls us, were speaking
of Agujari. He constrained himself from flying
out as long as he was able; but upon our
mentioning her having fifty pounds a song, he
suddenly, in a great rage, called out " Catgut and
rosin ! — ma'am, 'tis scandalous ! " x

We all laughed, and Mr. Selwyn, to provoke
him on, said,

" Why, sir, how shall we part with our money
better ? "

" Oh, fie ! fie ! " cried he, " I have not patience
to hear of such folly ; common sense, sir, common
sense is against it. Why now, there was one of
these fellows at Bath last season, a Mr. Rauzzini,2

1 Agujari (see ante, p. 156), whom Lord Macaulay severely styles the
" rapacious" Agujari, received fifty pounds a song for singing at the
Oxford Street Pantheon, which, it is admitted, she always filled.

2 Venanzio Rauzzini, 1747-1810, singer, teacher, and composer. He
settled at Bath (13 Gay Street) about 1780, becoming, for the rest of his
life, its great musical dictator (Early Diary, 1889, ii. 122 et seq.).

1779 THE AUTHOR OF ' EVELINA' 305

— I vow I longed to cane him every day ! such a
work made with him ! all the fair females sighing
for him ! enough to make a man sick ! "

I have always, at dinner, the good fortune to
sit next the General, for I am sure if I had not
I could not avoid offending him, because I am
eternally upon the titter when he speaks, so that
if I faced him he must see my merriment was
not merely at his humour, but excited by his
countenance, his language, his winking, and the
very tone of his voice.

Mr. Selwyn, who, as I have already hinted,
indulges my enjoyment of Mr. B y's conversa-
tion by always trying to draw him out upon such
topics as he most shows off in, told me, some
days since, that he feared I had now exhausted
all his stories, and heard him discuss all his
shining subjects of discourse ; but afterwards,
recollecting himself, he added, that there was yet
one in reserve, which was "ladies learning Greek,"
upon which he had, last year, flourished very
copiously. The occasion was Miss Streatfield's
knowledge of that language, and the General,
who wants two or three phrases of Latin to make
him pass for a man of learning (as he fails not
daily to repeat his whole stock), was so much
incensed that a "fair female" should presume to
study Greek, that he used to be quite outrageous
upon the subject. Mr. Selwyn, therefore, promised
to treat me with hearing his dissertation, which
he assured me would afford me no little diversion.

The other day, at dinner, the subject was
married life, and, among various husbands and

wives, Lord L being mentioned, Mr. B y

pronounced his panegyric, and called him his
friend.

vol. i x

306 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

Mr. Selwyn, though with much gentleness,
differed from him in opinion, and declared he
could not think well of him, as he knew his lady,
who was an amiable woman, was used very ill by
him.

" How, sir ? " cried Mr. B y.

" I have known him," answered Mr. Selwyn,
" frequently pinch her till she has been ready to cry
with pain, though she has endeavoured to prevent
its being observed."

"And I," said Mrs. Thrale, "know that he
pulled her nose, in his frantic brutality, till he
broke some of the vessels of it ; and when she
was dying she still found the torture he had given
her by it so great, that it was one of her last
complaints."

The General, who is all for love and gallantry,
far from attempting to vindicate his friend, quite
swelled with indignation at this account, and, after
a pause, big with anger, exclaimed,

" Wretched doings, sir, wretched doings ! "

" Nay, I have known him," added Mr. Selwyn,
" insist upon handing her to her carriage, and then,
with an affected kindness, pretend to kiss her
hand, instead of which he has almost bit a piece
out of it!"

" Pitiful ! — pitiful ! sir," cried the General, " I
know nothing more shabby ! "

"He was equally inhuman to his daughter,"
said Mrs. Thrale, "for, in one of his rages, he
almost throttled her."

" Wretched doings ! " again exclaimed Mr.

B y, " what ! cruel to a fair female ! Oh fie !

fie ! fie ! — a fellow who can be cruel to females and
children, or animals, must be a pitiful fellow indeed.
I wish we had had him here in the sea. I should
like to have had him stripped, and that kind of
thing, and been well banged by ten of our dippers

1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 307

here with a cat -o'- nine -tails. Cruel to a fair
female ! Oh fie ! fie ! fie ! "

I know not how this may read, but I assure you
its sound was ludicrous enough.

However, I have never yet told you his most
favourite story, though we have regularly heard it
three or four times a day ! — And this is about his
health.

" Some years ago," he says, — " let's see, how
many ? in the year '71, — ay, '71, '72 — thereabouts —
I was taken very ill, and, by ill-luck, I was per-
suaded to ask advice of one of these Dr. Galli-
pots : — oh, how I hate them all ! Sir, they are the
vilest pick-pockets — know nothing, sir ! nothing in
the world ! poor ignorant mortals ! and then they
pretend — In short, sir, I hate them all ; I have
suffered so much by them, sir — lost four years of
the happiness of my life — let's see, '71, '72, '73, '74
— ay, four years, sir ! — mistook my case, sir ! — and
all that kind of thing. Why, sir, my feet swelled
as big as two horses' heads ! I vow I will never
consult one of these Dr. Gallipot fellows again !
lost, me, sir, four years of the happiness of my
life ! — why I grew quite an object ! — you would
hardly have known me ! — lost all the calves of
my legs ! — had not an ounce of flesh left ! — and
as to the rouge l — why, my face was the colour of

that candle! — those Gallipot fellows! — why

they robbed me of four years — let me see, ay,
'71, '72 "

And then it all goes over again !

This story is always a propos ; if health is
mentioned, it is instanced to show its precarious-
ness ; if life, to bewail what he has lost of it ; if
pain, to relate what he has suffered ; if pleasure,
to recapitulate what he has been deprived of;
but if a physician is hinted at, eagerly, indeed, is

1 Hers manifestly, the complexion.

308 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

the opportunity seized of inveighing against the
whole faculty.

Tuesday was a very agreeable day indeed, and I
am sure a merry one to me ; but it was all owing
to the General, and I do not think you seem to
have a true taste for him, so I shall give you but
a brief account of my entertainment from him.

We had a large party of gentlemen to dinner.
Among them was Mr. Hamilton, commonly called
Single-speech Hamilton,1 from having made one
remarkable speech in the House of Commons
against government, and receiving some douceur
to be silent ever after. This Mr. Hamilton is
extremely tall and handsome ; has an air of haughty
and fashionable superiority ; is intelligent, dry, sar-
castic, and clever. I should have received much
pleasure from his conversational powers, had I not
previously been prejudiced against him, by hearing
that he is infinitely artful, double, and crafty.

The dinner conversation was too general to be
well remembered ; neither, indeed, shall I attempt
more than partial scraps relating to matters of what
passed when we adjourned to tea.

Mr. Hamilton, Mr. Selwyn, Mr. Tidy, and Mr.
Thrale seated themselves to whist ; the rest looked
on : but the General, as he always does, took up
the newspaper, and, with various comments, made
aloud, as he went on reading to himself, diverted
the whole company. Now he would cry, " Strange !
strange that ! " — presently, " What stuff ! I don't
believe a word of it ! " — a little after, "Oh, Mr.
Bate,2 I wish your ears were cropped ! " — then,

1 William Gerard Hamilton, 1729-96, at this date M.P. for Wilton, and
Chancellor of the Irish Exchequer. His famous maiden speech was
delivered in 1755 when he was member for Petersfield. He had a house
on the west side of the Steine, occupied after his death by Lord Mans-
field's sister, Lady Anne Murray.

2 Henry Bate, afterwards Sir Henry Bate Dudley, 1745-1824, editor of
the Morning Post, and known popularly as the " Fighting Parson."

1779 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 309

" Ha ! ha ! ha ! funnibus ! funnibus ! indeed ! " —
and, at last, in a great rage, he exclaimed, " What
a fellow is this, to presume to arraign the conduct
of persons of quality ! "

Having diverted himself and us in this manner,
till he had read every column methodically through,
he began all over again, and presently called out,
" Ha ! ha ! here's a pretty thing ! " and then, in
a plaintive voice, languished out some wretched
verses.

Although the only mark of approbation with
which the company favoured these lines was laugh-
ing at them, the General presently found something
else equally bad, which he also praised, also read,
and also raised a laugh at.

A few minutes after he began puffing and blow-
ing, with rising indignation, and, at last, cried out,
" What a fellow is this ? I should not be at all
surprised if General Burgoyne cut off both his
ears ! "

"You have great variety there," cried Mr.

Hamilton drily ; " but I think, Mr. B y, you

have read us nothing to-day about the analeptic
pills!"

Though we all smiled at this, the General, un-
conscious of any joke, gravely answered,

" No, sir ! I have not seen them yet, but I dare-
say I shall find them by and by ! "

And, by the time the next game was finished,
he called out, " No ! I see nothing of the analeptic
pills to-day ; but here's some Samaritan drops ! "

Soon after he began to rage about some baronet,
whose title began, Sir Carnaby. " Well," he cried,
"what names people do think of! Here's another
now, Sir Onesiphoras Paul ! why, now, what a
name is that ! Poor human beings here, inventing
such a name as that ! I can't imagine where they
met with it : it is not in the Bible."

310 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1779

" There you are a little mistaken ! " said Mr.
Hamilton coolly.

" Is it ? Well, I protest, Onesiphoras ! ha ! ha! "

"But you don't exactly pronounce it right,"
returned Mr. Hamilton, "it is Onesiphom? — not
as, as you say it."

Mr. B y made no answer, but went on read-
ing the newspaper to himself.

Mr. Hamilton, who had now given his place at
the wThist-table to Mr. Bateson, related to us a very
extraordinary cure performed by a physician, who
would not write his prescriptions, " Because," said
he, "they should not appear against him, as his
advice was out of rule ; but the cure was performed,
and I much honour, and would willingly employ
such a man."

" How ! " exclaimed Mr. B y, who always

fires at the very name of a physician, " what ! let
one of those fellows try his experiments upon you ?
For my part, I'll never employ one again as long
as I live ! I've suffered too much by them ; lost
me five years of the happiness of my life — ever
since the year — let's see, '71, '72 "

"Mrs. Thrale," interrupted Mr. Hamilton, "I
was in some hopes Dr. Johnson would have come
hither with you."

Mrs. Thrale answered him ; but Mr. B y

went on.

" One of those Dr. Gallipots, now — Heberden l
attended a poor fellow I knew. ' Oh,' says he,
' he'll do vastly well ! ' and so on, and so on, and all
that kind of thing : but the next morning, when
he called, the poor gentleman was dead ! There's
your Mr. Heberden for you ! Oh, fie ! fie ! "

" What will you do without them ? " said Mr.
Hamilton.

1 William Heberden, M.D., 1710-1801, one of Johnson's medical
advisers.

1779 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 311

" Do, sir ? Why, live like men ! Who wants
a pack of their nostrums ? I'll never employ one
again while I live ! They mistook my case, sir ;
they played the very devil with me ! Let me see,
'71, '72 "

" What ! " interrupted Mr. Hamilton, " are you
seventy-two ? "

The dry humour with which he asked this, set

the whole company in a roar. Mr. B y angrily

answered,

" No, sir, no ! no such thing ; but I say "

And then he went on with his story : no calves
to his legs ; mistook his case ; feet swelled as big
as horses' heads; not an ounce of flesh; — and
all the old phrases were repeated with so sad a
solemnity, and attended to by Mr. Hamilton with
so contemptuous a frigidity, that I was obliged to
take up a newspaper to hide my face. Miss Thrale
ran out of the room ; Mr. Selwyn laughed till

he could hardly hold his cards ; Captain W

hallooed quite indecently ; and Mr. Tidy shook all
over as if he was in an ague : and yet the General
never found it out.

Miss F. Burney to Mr. Crisp

St. Martin's Street, Dec. 1779.

My dearest Daddy — I have deferred writing
from day to day, in expectation of being able to fix
some time for my long and most earnestly coveted
visit to dear Chessington ; but my father's own
movements have been so uncertain, that I found it
impossible to tease him about fixing mine. At
length, however, we have come to the point. He
has desired me to sift for what room you have, and
to sound as to convenience. Now I know the
shortest way of doing this is by coming plump upon
the question ; and, therefore, both to save myself

312 DIARY AND LETTERS 1779

the trouble of a long half- meaning, half- hinting,
half-intelligible rigmarole, and you the trouble of
vague suspicions, and puzzling conjectures, I think
the best method is plainly to say, that, in about
ten days, he thinks he can come to Chessington, if,
without difficulty, you can then accommodate him.

Not one word has he yet said about the rest of
the family ; but I know he means not to travel
solus : and I know, too, that it is not any secret to
him that I, for one, build upon accompanying him,
as a thing of course.

I am extremely gratified by your approbation of
my journal. Miss Birch, I do assure you, exists
exactly such as I have described her. \l_never mix
truth and fiction : all that I relate in journalising
is strictly, nay plainly, fact. I never, in all my
life, have been a sayer of the thing that is not ; and
now I should be not only a knave but a fool also,
in so doing, as I have other purposes for imaginary
characters than filling letters with them. Give me
credit, therefore, on the score of interest, and
common sense, if not of principle. But, however,
the world, and especially the Great world, is so
filled with absurdity of various sorts, now bursting
forth in impertinence, now in pomposity, now
giggling in silliness, and now yawning in dulness,
that there is no occasion for invention to draw
what is striking in every possible species of the
ridiculous.^]

I hope to be very comfortable with you, when
I can get to you. I will bring you the little sketch
I made of the heroine you seem to interest your-
self in,2 and perhaps by your advice may again take
her up, or finally let her rest.

Adieu, dearest daddy ; kindest love to you from
all quarters, — mostly from F. B.

1 See facsimile at p. 312.
2 Perhaps the forthcoming Cecilia.

a a

PART VII
1780

Miss Burney to Mr. Crisp — The troubles of popularity — Ladies'
dress — Miss Burney's comedy of The Witlings — Sheridan's
application to her — Plot and characters of The Witlings —
Lord Sandwich — Captain Cook — His death — Hon. Capt.
Walsingham — George III. and the navy — Dr. Hunter — Dr.
Solander — Murphy — His oddities — Table-talk — Mr. Crisp
to Miss Burney — Excellent advice about her comedy —
Colley Cibber — Journal resumed — Pacchierotti — Journey to
Bath — The Lawrence family at Devizes — The late President
of the Royal Academy at ten years of age — Mr. W. Hoare —
Arrival at Bath — Description of the place and company —
Parties — Lady Miller's vase — Mrs. Montagu — The theatre
— The Bowdler family — Dr. Woodward — Dr. Harrington —
Mrs. Byron — Lord Mulgrave — The Hon. Augustus Phipps
— Table-talk — Anecdotes of the late General Phipps —
Illustrations of Evelina — Dr. Johnson — The Provost of Eton
— Bath Society — Dean of Ossory — Mrs. Montagu — A Wit-
ling— Mrs. Montagu and Mrs. Thrale contrasted — Letter
from Mr. Crisp — The Duchess of Marlborough — A Scotch
bishop — Duchess of Portland — Colley Cibber — Sheridan —
Bath — Journal resumed — Lord Mulgrave — The Bowdler
family — The Byrons — A pleasant meeting — A mistake — An
evening party — A pretty poet — Mrs. Siddons as " Belvidera "
— A pink and white poet — Anstey, author of the New Bath
Guide.

From Miss F. Burney to Mr. Crisp

St. Martin's Street, January 22, 1780.

My dearest Daddy — As this sheet is but to
contain a sequel of what I writ last, not to aspire
at being regarded as a separate or answer- claiming
letter, I shall proceed without fresh preamble.

313

314 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

You make a comique kind of inquiry about my
"incessant and uncommon engagements." Now,
my dear daddy, this is an inquiry I feel rather
small in answering, for I am sure you expect to
hear something respectable in that sort of way,
whereas I have nothing to enumerate that com-
mands attention, or that will make a favourable
report. For the truth is, my "uncommon" en-
gagements have only been of the visiting system,
and my "incessant" ones only of the working
party ; — for perpetual dress requires perpetual
replenishment, and that replenishment actually
occupies almost every moment I spend out of
company.1

"Fact! fact!" I assure you,- — however paltry,
ridiculous, or inconceivable it may sound. Caps,
hats, and ribbons make, indeed, no venerable
appearance upon paper ; — no more do eating and
drinking ; — yet the one can no more be worn with-
out being made, than the other can be swallowed
without being cooked ; and those who can neither
pay milliners nor keep scullions, must either toil
for themselves, or go capless and dinnerless. So,
if you are for a high-polished comparison, I'm your
man !

Now, instead of furbelows and gewgaws of this
sort, my dear daddy probably expected to hear of
duodecimos, octavos, or quartos ! — Helas ! I am
sorry that is not the case, — but not one word, no,
not one syllable did I write to any purpose, from
the time you left me at Streatham, till Christmas,
when I came home. But now I have something
to communicate concerning which I must beg
you to give me your opinion.

As my play was settled in its silent suppression,

1 Costume was always a trouble to Miss Burney. Mr. R. O. Cam-
bridge of Twickenham affirmed that " Miss B. had no time to write, for
she was always working at her clothes."

1780 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 315

1 entreated my father to call on Mr. Sheridan, in
order to prevent his expecting anything from me,
as he had had a good right to do, from my having
sent him a positive message that I should, in com-
pliance with his exhortations at Mrs. Cholmonde-
ley's, try my fortune in the theatrical line, and
send him a piece for this winter. My father did
call, but found him not at home, neither did he
happen to see him till about Christmas. He then
acquainted him that what I had written had en-
tirely dissatisfied me, and that I desired to decline
for the present all attempts of that sort.

Mr. Sheridan was pleased to express great con-
cern,— nay more, to protest he would not accept
my refusal. He begged my father to tell me that
he could take no denial to seeing what I had done
— that I could be no fair judge for myself — that he
doubted not but it would please, but was glad I
was not satisfied, as he had much rather see pieces
before their authors were contented with them
than afterwards, on account of sundry small
changes always necessary to be made by the
managers, for theatrical purposes, and to which
they were loth to submit when their writings were
finished to their own approbation. In short, he
said so much, that my father, ever easy to be
worked upon, began to waver, and told me he
wished I would show the play to Sheridan at once.

This very much disconcerted me : I had taken
a sort of disgust to it, and was myself most
earnestly desirous to let it die a quiet death.
I therefore cooled the affair as much as I con-
veniently could, and by evading from time to time
the conversation, it was again sinking into its old
state, — when again Mr. Sheridan saw my father,
and asked his leave to call upon me himself.

This could not be refused.

Well, — I was now violently fidgeted, and began

316 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

to think of alterations, — and by setting my head
to work, I have actually now written the fourth
act from beginning to end, except one scene. — Mr.
Sheridan, however, has not yet called, and I have
so little heart in the affair, that I have now again
quite dropped it.

Such is the present situation of my politics.
Now, I wish you much to write me your private
opinion what I had best do in case of an emerg-
ency. Your letters are always sacred, so pray
write with your usual sincerity and openness. I
know you too well to fear your being offended if
things should be so managed that your counsel
cannot be followed ; it will, at any rate, not be
thrown away, since it will be a fresh proof of your
interest in my affairs and my little self.

My notions I will also tell you ; they are (in
case I must produce this piece to the manager) : —

To entirely omit all mention of the club ; —

To curtail the parts of Smatter and Dabbler as
much as possible ; —

To restore to Censor his £5000 and not trouble
him even to offer it ; —

To give a new friend to Cecilia,1 by whom her
affairs shall be retrieved, and through whose
means the catastrophe shall be brought to be
happy ;—

And to change the nature of Beaufort's con-
nections with Lady Smatter, in order to obviate
the unlucky resemblance the adopted nephew bears
to our female pride of literature.2

This is all I have at present thought of. And
yet, if I am so allowed, even these thoughts shall
all turn to nothing ; for I have so much more fear
than hope, and anxiety than pleasure, in thinking

1 This shows there was a character in The Witlings who foreshadowed
the heroine of Miss Burney's second book.

2 Mrs. Montagu had adopted her nephew.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 317

at all of the theatre, that I believe my wisest way
will be to shirk — which, if by evasive and sneaking
means I can, I shall.

Now concerning Admiral Jem ; — you have had
all the accounts of him from my mother ; whether
or not he has made any change in his situation
we cannot tell. The Mormng Post had yesterday
this paragraph : —

" We hear Lieutenant Burney has succeeded to
the command of Capt. Clerke's ship."

That this, as Miss Waldron said of her hair, is
all a falsity,1 we are, however, certain, as Lord
Sandwich has informed my father that the first
lieutenant of poor Capt. Cook was promoted to
the Discovery. Whether, however, Jem has been
made first lieutenant of the Resolution, or whether
that vacancy has been filled up by the second
lieutenant of that ship, we are not informed. The
letter from my admiral has not, it seems, been
very clear, for I met the Hon. Capt. Walsingham
last week on a visit, and he said he had been at
court in the morning. "And the king," he con-
tinued, "said to me, 'Why, I don't think you
captains in the navy shine much in the literary
way ! ' ' No, sir,' answered I, 'but then, in return,
no more do your Majesty's captains in the army ' —
except Burgoyne,2 I had a good mind to say ! —
but I did not dare."

I shall give you some further particulars of my
meeting this Capt. Walsingham in some future
letter, as I was much pleased with him.

I am sure you must have been grieved for poor
Capt. Cook.3 How hard, after so many dangers,

1 Upon Cook's death, James Burney was transferred to the Discovery
as first lieutenant.

2 General John Burgoyne, 1723-92, of the Saratoga disaster, wrote
several plays, The Maid of the Oaks, 1774, The Lord of the Manor, 1781,
The Heiress, 1786, and Richard Coeur de Lion, 1786.

3 Cook was killed by the natives of Owhyhee, February 14, 1779.
The news had just reached England.

318 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

so much toil, — to die in so shocking a manner — in
an island he had himself discovered — among savages
he had himself, in his first visit to them, civilised
and rendered kind and hospitable, and in pursuit of
obtaining justice in a cause in which he had himself
no interest, but zeal for his other captain ! He
nvas, besides, the most moderate, humane, and
gentle circumnavigator who ever went out upon
discoveries ; agreed the best with all the Indians,
and, till this fatal time, never failed, however
hostile they met, to leave them his friends.

Dr. Hunter,1 who called here lately, said that he
doubted not but Capt. Cook had trusted them
too unguardedly ; for as he always had declared
his opinion that savages never committed murder
without provocation, he boldly went among them
without precautions for safety, and paid for his
incautious intrepidity with his very valuable life.

The Thrales are all tolerably well, — Mr. Thrale
I think and hope much better. I go to them very
often, and they come here certainly once every
week, and Mrs. Thrale generally oftener. I have
had some charming meetings at their house, which,
though in brief, I will enumerate.

At the first, the party was Mr. Murphy, Mr.
Seward, Mr. Evans, Dr. Solander,2 and Lady
Ladd. Dr. Johnson had not then settled in the
borough.

Mr. Evans is a clergyman, very intimate with the
Thrales, and a good-humoured and a sensible man.

Dr. Solander, whom I never saw before, I found
very sociable, full of talk, information, and enter-
tainment. My father has very exactly named him,
in calling him a philosophical gossip.

1 Perhaps John Hunter of the Museum in Leicester Fields, 1728-93.
But there was another " Dr. " Hunter, who attended the Burney family.

2 Daniel Charles Solander, 1736-82, botanist, had accompanied Cook in
1768 in the Endeavour. At this date he was keeper of the printed books
in the British Museum (see post, p. 320.)

1780 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 319

The others you have heard of frequently.

Mr. Murphy " made at me " immediately ; — he
took a chair next mine, and would talk to me, and
to me only, almost all the day. He attacked me
about my play, entreated me most earnestly to
show him the rest of it, and made it many compli-
ments. I told him that I had quite given it up
— that I did not like it now it was done, and
would not venture to try it, and therefore could
not consent to show it. He quite flew at this —
vowed I should not be its judge.

" What ! " cried he, " condemn in this manner !
— give up such writing ! such dialogue ! such
character ! No, it must not be. Show it me —
you shall show it me. If it wants a few stage-
tricks trust it with me, and I will put them in.
I have had a long experience in these matters.
I know what the galleries will and will not
bear. I will promise not to let it go out of my
hands without engaging for its success."

This, and much more, he went on with in a low
voice, obliging me by the nature of the subject to
answer him in the same, and making everybody
stare at the closeness of our confab, which I
believe was half its pleasure to him, for he loves
mischievous fun as much as if he was but sixteen.

While we were thus discoursing, Mr. Seward,
who I am sure wondered at us, called out, " Miss
Burney, you don't hear Dr. Solander." I then
endeavoured to listen to him, and found he was
giving a very particular account to the company
of Captain Cook's appearance at Khamschatka —
a subject which they naturally imagined would
interest me. And so indeed it did ; but it was in
vain, for Mr. Murphy would not hear a word ; he
continued talking to me in a whisper, and dis-
tracted my attention in such a manner that I heard
both and understood neither.

320 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

Again, in a few minutes, Mr. Seward called out,
" Miss Burney, you don't hear this " ; and yet my
neighbour would not regard him, nor would allow
that I should. Exhortation followed exhortation,
and entreaty entreaty, till, almost out of patience,
Mr. Seward a third time exclaimed,

"Why, Miss Burney, Dr. Solander is speaking
of your brother's ship."

I was half ashamed, and half ready to laugh.

"Ay," said Mrs. Thrale, "Mr. Murphy and
Miss Burney are got to flirtation, so what care they
for Captain Cook and Captain Gierke."

" Captain Cook and Captain Clerke ? " repeated
Mr. Murphy, — " who mentioned them ? "

Everybody laughed.

"Who?" said Mrs. Thrale. "Why Dr.
Solander has been talking of them this hour."

" Indeed ! " exclaimed he, " why, then, it's Miss
Burney's fault : she has been talking to me all this
time on purpose to prevent my listening."

Did you ever hear such assurance ?

I can write no more particulars of my visit, as
my letter is so monstrously long already ; but in
conclusion, Dr. Solander invited the whole party
to the Museum l that day week, and Lady Ladd,
who brought me home, invited us all to dine with
her after seeing it. This was by all accepted, and
I will say something of it hereafter. I am very
sorry I have forgot to ask for franks, and must not
forget to ask your pardon.

And so God bless you, my dear daddy ! and
bless Mrs. Gast, Mrs. Ham, and Kitty, and do you
say God bless your ever loving and affectionate

F. B.

1 See ante, p. 318 n.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 321

Mr. Crisp to Miss F. Burney

Chessington, February 23, 1780.

My dear Fannikin — Our letters crossed each
other. I did not receive yours till the day after
mine was sent off, otherwise I should not have
then omitted what you seemed to require — my
notions on the subject of Mr. Sheridan's impor-
tunity. My great scruple all along has been the
consideration of the great stake you are playing
for, how much you have to lose, and how unequal
your delicate and tender frame of mind would be
to sustain the shock of a failure of success, should
that be the case. You can't easily imagine how
much it goes against me to say anything that looks
like discouragement to a spirit already too diffident
and apprehensive. Nothing but so rooted a regard
for my Fannikin, and her peace and happiness, as
I feel at this instant, could ever have prevailed on
me to have used that freedom with her, which,
though all authors pretend to insist on from the
friends they consult, yet ninety-nine out of a
hundred are offended at ; and not only so, but
bear a secret grudge and enmity for the sincerity
they have demanded, and in some measure extorted.
I myself have met with and smarted for some
instances of this kind ; but that shall not hinder
me from delivering my real sentiments to those I
love when called upon, and particularly my own
creature, Fannikin, for I think I know her gener-
osity too well to suspect her of taking amiss what
can proceed from no motive but friendship and
fidelity.

Well, then, this is my idea. The play has wit
enough and enough — but the story and the inci-
dents don't appear to me interesting enough to
seize and keep hold of the attention and eager
vol. i Y

322 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

expectations of the generality of audiences. This,
to me, is its capital defect.

The omissions you propose are right, I think ;
but how the business of the piece is to go on with
such omissions and alterations as you mention, it is
impossible for me to know. What you mean to
leave out — the club and the larger share of S matter
and Dabbler — seems to have been the main subject
of the play. Cecilia's loss and unexpected restora-
tion of her fortune, is not a new incident by any
means ; however, anything is preferable to Censor's
interfering in the business by his unaccountable
generosity.1

Now, as to the very great importance, and
indeed (to my thinking) the indispensable necessity,
of an interesting plot or story, — let me recommend
you to borrow, or get from the circulating library,
An Apology for the Life of Mr, Colley Gibber.
This book chance has thrown in my way since I
last wrote to you ; and in running it over I very
unexpectedly met with a full and copious detail
of all my very thoughts on this subject, to a
most minute exactness. The passage itself begins
thus :

" Reader — by your leave — I will but just speak
a word or two to any author, that has not yet writ
one word of his next play, and then I will come to
my point again."

He then goes on, ending with these words,
viz. : —

" I imagined these observations might convince
some future author, of how great advantage a fable
well planned must be to a man of any tolerable
genius." 2

The echo of my sentiments of the matter for
these forty years past ! No man living was ever a

1 See ante, p. 316.

1 See ante, p. 316.
2 Cibber's Apology, 1740, pp. 201-202

1780 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 323

better judge of stage interests and stage politics
than Cibber.

What to advise, I profess I know not — only
thus much : I should have a much greater defer-
ence for the opinion of Sheridan than of Murphy ;
I take him in himself to be much deeper ; and he
is besides deeply interested in the fate of whatever
he brings forward on his own stage. Upon the
whole, as he is so pressing to see what you have
done, I should almost incline to consent.

Your other daddy and madam were kind enough
last Sunday to come on purpose from London to
see me ; for which I think myself greatly obliged
to them. They tell me of a delightful tour you
are to make this autumn on the other side of the
water, with Mr. and Mrs. Thrale, Dr. Johnson,
Mr. Murphy, etc. Where will you find such
another set ? Oh, Fanny, set this down as the
happiest period of your life ; and when you come
to be old and sick, and health and spirits are fled
(for the time may come), then live upon remem-
brance, and think that you have had your share of
the good things of this world, and say, — For what
I have received, the Lord make me thankful !

And now, my Fanny, let me hear from you
soon the result of your theatrical councils ; also a
continuation of your own other adventures, and
likewise (what you have hitherto shirked me of)
the Susannitical Journal of Brighthelmstone. —
Your loving daddy, S. C.

Journal resumed

Bath, April 7. — A thousand thanks, my dearest
Susy, for your kind and very satisfactory letter.
I had, indeed, been extremely anxious to hear of
poor Pacchierotti, for the account of his illness in
the newspapers had alarmed me very much. You

324 DIARY AND LETTERS OF i7so

are very good for being so circumstantial. I long
to hear of his more perfect recovery, for, to use his
own words, he has made himself an interest in my
regard more than for his profession. Merely for
the profession, never can I admire more passion-
ately than I did Millico;1 but I now consider
Pacchierotti as an estimable friend, and as such I
value him sincerely and affectionately, and you, I
think, my little Susanna, are in this also of " one
mind " with me.

Don't be angry that I have been absent so long
without writing, for I have been so entirely with-
out a moment to myself, except for dressing, that
I really have not had it in my power. This morn-
ing, being obliged to have my hair dressed early, I
am a prisoner, that I may not spoil it by a hat,
and therefore I have made use of my captivity in
writing to my dear Susy ; and, briefly, I will now
chronicle what has occupied me hitherto.

The journey was very comfortable ; Mr. Thrale
was charmingly well and in very good spirits, and
Mrs. Thrale must be charming, well or ill. We
only went to Maidenhead Bridge the first night,
where I found the caution given me by Mr. Smelt,2
of not attempting to travel near Windsor on a
hunting-day, was a very necessary one, as we were
with difficulty accommodated even the day after
the hunt ; several stragglers yet remaining at all
the inns, and we heard of nothing but the king and
royal huntsmen and huntswomen.

The second day we slept at Speen Hill, and the
third day we reached Devizes.

And here, Mrs. Thrale and I were much pleased
with our hostess, Mrs. Lawrence, who seemed
something above her station in her inn. While

1 Giuseppe Millico, b. 1739, came to England in April 1772 (see Early
Diary, 1889, i. 186). Miss Burney calls him "the divine Millico."

2 Leonard Smelt, 1719-1800, Deputy-Governor to the Royal Princes.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 325

we were at cards before supper, we were much sur-
prised by the sound of a pianoforte. I jumped up,
and ran to listen whence it proceeded. I found it
came from the next room, where the overture to
the " Buona Figliuola " was performing. The
playing was very decent, but as the music was
not quite new to me, my curiosity was not whole
ages in satisfying, and therefore I returned to finish
the rubber.

Don't I begin to talk in an old cattish manner
of cards ?

Well, another deal was hardly played, ere we
heard the sound of a voice, and out I ran again.
The singing, however, detained me not long, and
so back I whisked : but the performance, however
indifferent in itself, yet surprised us at the Bear at
Devizes, and, therefore, Mrs. Thrale determined to
know from whom it came. Accordingly, she tapped
at the door. A very handsome girl, about thirteen
years old, with fine dark hair upon a finely-formed
forehead, opened it. Mrs. Thrale made an apology
for her intrusion, but the poor girl blushed and
retreated into a corner of the room : another girl,
however, advanced, and obligingly and gracefully
invited us in, and gave us all chairs. She was just
sixteen, extremely pretty, and with a countenance
better than her features, though those were also
very good. Mrs. Thrale made her many compli-
ments, which she received with a mingled modesty
and pleasure, both becoming and interesting. She
was, indeed, a sweetly-pleasing girl.

We found they were both daughters of our
hostess, and born and bred at Devizes. We were
extremely pleased with them, and made them a long
visit, which I wished to have been longer. But
though those pretty girls struck us so much, the
wonder of the family was yet to be produced.
This was their brother, a most lovely boy of ten

326 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

years of age, who seems to be not merely the wonder
of their family, but of the times, for his astonishing
skill in drawing.1 They protest he has never had
any instruction, yet showed us some of his produc-
tions that were really beautiful. Those that were
copies were delightful — those of his own composi-
tion amazing, though far inferior. I was equally
struck with the boy and his works.

We found that he had been taken to town, and
that all the painters had been very kind to him,
and Sir Joshua Reynolds had pronounced him, the
mother said, the most promising genius he had ever
met with. Mr. Hoare 2 has been so charmed with
this sweet boy's drawings that he intends sending
him to Italy with his own son.

This house was full of books, as well as paint-
ings, drawings, and music ; and all the family seem
not only ingenious and industrious, but amiable ;
added to which, they are strikingly handsome.

I hope we shall return the same road, that we
may see them again.

I forgot to mention that when we were at
Reading, we walked to see Coley, the seat of Miss
Thompsons, sisters-in-law of Sir Philip Jennings
Gierke. The house is large, old-fashioned, new
vamped, and rambling.

I shall now skip to our arrival at this beautiful
city, which I really admire more than I did, if
possible, when I first saw it. The houses are so
elegant, the streets are so beautiful, the prospects
so enchanting. I could fill whole pages upon the
general beauty of the place and country, but that
I have neither time for myself, nor incitement for
you, as I know nothing tires so much as description.

1 Thomas Lawrence, 1769-1830, eventually Sir Thomas, and President
of the Royal Academy.

2 William Hoare, R.A., 1706-92. His plan was not carried out. The
Lawrences moved to Oxford and Weymouth, then to Bath, and finally to
London, where the young painter soon commanded a handsome income.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 327

We alighted at York House, and Mrs. Thrale
sent immediately to Sir Philip Jennings Clerke,
who spent the Easter holidays here. He came
instantly, with his usual alacrity to oblige, and told
us of lodgings upon the South Parade,1 whither in
the afternoon we all hied, and Mr. Thrale imme-
diately hired a house at the left corner. It was most
deliciously situated ; we have meadows, hills, Prior
Park,2 " the soft-flowing Avon " — whatever Nature
has to offer, I think, always in our view. My room
commands all these ; and more luxury for the eye
I cannot form a notion of.

We stayed that night, Friday, at York House,
and Sir Philip Clerke supped with us, and came to
breakfast the next morning. I am quite sorry this
Sir Philip is so violent and so wrong in his political
opinions and conduct, for in private life he is all
gentleness, good breeding, and friendliness. I was
very sorry, too, when he left us, which he was
obliged to do at noon, and to quit Bath the
next day.

Well — we spent Saturday morn in removing
hither, and then immediately followed an engage-
ment. It was to spend the afternoon with some
relations of Mrs. T.

The relations were Mrs. C , an ugly, proud

old woman, but marvellous civil to me ; Mr. L ,

a sensible man of eighty-two, strong, healthy, and
conversable as he could have been at thirty-two ;
his wife, a dull, muzzy old creature ; his sister,
a ditto.

Our afternoon was horribly wearying.

When we came away, Mrs. Thrale ordered our
chairs to the playhouse ; Mr. Thrale would not
accompany us. We were just in time for The

1 Smollett's " Matthew Bramble " also took lodgings in the South
Parade.

2 The seat of Fielding's " 'Squire Allworthy," the famous Bathonian,
Ralph Allen (1694-1764).

328 DIARY AND LETTERS OF nso

Padlock,1 which was almost as bad to me as the
company I had just left. Yet the performers here
are uncommonly good : some of them as good as
almost any we have in town.

Sunday, — We went to St. James's Church,
heard a very indifferent preacher, and returned to
read better sermons of our own choosing.

In the evening we had again an engagement.
This, however, was far more agreeable than our
last. It was at Mrs. Lambart's.2 Mrs. Lambart
is a widow of General Lambart, and a sister of Sir
Philip Jennings. She is an easy, chatty, sensible
woman of the world.

There was a good deal of company; among them,
all that I much observed were two clergymen and
a Miss Lewis.

One of the clergymen was Mr. W ,3 a young

man who has a house on the Crescent, and is one
of the best supporters of Lady Miller's vase at
Bath Easton.4 He is immensely tall, thin, and
handsome, but affected, delicate, and sentimentally
pathetic ; and his conversation about his own
"feelings," about "amiable motives," and about
the wind, which, at the Crescent, he said in a tone
of dying horror, " blew in a manner really frightful !"
diverted me the whole evening. But Miss Thrale,
not content with private diversion, laughed out at
his expressions, till I am sure he perceived and
understood her merriment.

The young lady, Miss Lewis, is a daughter of

1 A comic opera by Isaac Bickerstaffe, d. 1812 (?). It was first pro-
duced at Co vent Garden in 1 768.

2 In Church Street.

3 This was the Rev. Thomas Sedgewick Whalley, D.D., 1746-1828,
Rector of Hagworthingham in Lincolnshire. He occupied the centre
house in the Crescent. He was a refined dilettante, and art patron,
Thomas Barker of Bath being one of his favourites. His Journals and
Correspondence were edited in 1863 by the Rev. Hill Wickham. His
portrait by Reynolds fully justifies the title given to him at Paris by
Marie Antoinette of Le bel Anglais.

4 See post, p. 415.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 329

the Dean of Ossory ; 1 she is very handsome, and
mighty gay and giddy, half tonish, and half hoy-
denish ; and every other word she utters is
"Horrible!"

Well, I must now to Monday.

In the morning Miss Gregory called ; she is here
with Mrs. Montagu. She made a long visit, and
she brought me a very polite message from sweet
Mr. Smelt's daughter, Mrs. Cholmley, who had
told Miss Gregory that her father had written to
charge her to get acquainted with me, in terms too
civil to repeat ; and she was very willing, but did
not know how.

" And so," said Miss Gregory, " I told her I
would ask vou."

I begged her to give my respects to Mrs.
Cholmley, and to tell her I should certainly wait
upon her.

In the evening we had company at home, —
Mrs. Lambart, Miss Gregory, and Mrs. Montagu.

Mrs. Montagu was in very good spirits, and
extremely civil to me, taking my hand, and express-
ing herself well pleased that I had accompanied
Mrs. Thrale hither. She was very flashy, and
talked away all the evening ; but Miss Gregory
was as much disposed to talk herself, and she took
to me this night as she did to Mrs. Campbell at
Mrs. Ord's, and, therefore, I could scarce hear a
word that Mrs. Montagu said.

[Bath, April 9. — Tuesday morning we spent in
walking all over the town, viewing the beautiful
Circus, the company-crowded Pump-room, and the
exquisite Crescent, which, to ail the excellence of
architecture that adorns the Circus, adds all the
delights of nature that beautify the Parades. We
also made various visits, and I called upon Mrs.
Cholmley, but was not admitted, and also upon Miss

1 John Lewis, Dean of Ossory, 1755-84.

330 DIARY AND LETTERS OF i7so

Bowdler, who was also invisible. We then went
to Mrs. Lambart's, where we again met Miss Lewis,
and heard abundance of Bath chit-chat and news,
and were all invited for Friday to cards. I am,
however, determined never to play but when we are
quite alone, and a fourth is indispensably wanted.
I have, therefore, entreated Mrs. Thrale not to
make known that I can.

In the evening we went to the play, and saw The
School for Scandal and The Critic ; both of them
admirably well acted, and extremely entertaining.

Wednesday,'] in the morning, Miss Bowdler1 re-
turned my visit : I was glad to see her, for old
acquaintance' sake. She does not look well, but is
more agreeable than formerly, and seems to have
thrown aside her pedantry and ostentatious display
of knowledge ; and, therefore, as she is very sensible,
and uncommonly cultivated, her conversation and
company are very well worth seeking. I introduced
her to Mrs. Thrale, which I saw was a great grati-
fication, as she had long known her by fame, and
wished much to be presented to her.

[We had much talk of Teignmouth, and I
inquired about my old friend Mr. Crispen, who
I find now lives at Clifton.

Mrs. Thrale inquired of Miss Bowdler if she
knew anything of Miss Cooper, and where she
lived ? And then Miss Bowdler, in a very re-
spectful manner, begged permission to invite us all
to meet Miss Cooper at her father's, for that very
evening, as Mrs. Montagu was also engaged there ;
and Mrs. Thrale, with her usual frankness and
good humour, accepted the invitation without
further ceremony.

Accordingly,] in the afternoon we all went to
Alfred Buildings, where Mr. Bowdler lives. He

1 Frances Bowdler, sister of Thomas Bowdler of the expurgated Family
Shakespeare, 1818. Miss Burney had met her at Teignmouth in 1773.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF ' EVELINA 331

was not at home, but his wife and two daughters
did the honours.

We found Mrs. Montagu, Miss Gregory, Miss
Cooper, and Mrs. Sydney Lee already assembled.

This Mrs. Sydney Lee is a maiden sister of the
famous rebel General.1 She is a very agreeable
woman.

Miss Cooper you must have heard of: she is
Miss Streatfield's darling friend, and a very amiable
and gentle old maid. I have seen her twice at
Streatham.

Mrs. Bowdler is very sensible and intelligent,
and my namesake2 was very rational and enter-
taining.

Mrs. Montagu and Mrs. Thrale both flashed
away admirably ; but I was again engrossed by
Miss Gregory, who raved of nothing but Mr.
Seward.

When we returned home I found a note from
Mrs. Cholmley,3 [the most elegantly civil that ever
was written, apologising for not having called upon
me on account of her indifferent state of health,
expressing her desire to be known to a daughter
of Dr. Burney, for whom, she says, she must ever
retain the highest esteem and respect, and] inviting
me to meet Mrs. Montagu on Friday.

I was already engaged to a large party at
Mrs. Lambart's, but my kind Mrs. Thrale, per-
ceiving which way my inclination led, undertook
to make my apologies for the beginning of the
evening, and to allow me to join her after my own
visit was paid. I therefore wrote my thanks to
Mrs. Cholmley, and accepted her invitation.

Thursday. — The kindness of this family seems

1 Charles Lee, 1731-82, an English officer who had joined the insur-
gent American colonies. He was at one time second in command to
Washington, but had retired in 1779 after being court -martialled for
disaster.

2 i.e. Frances Bowdler. 3 In the Circus.

332 DIARY AND LETTERS OF uso

daily to increase towards me ; not indeed that of
Mrs. Thrale, for it cannot, so sweetly and delight-
fully she keeps it up ; she has not left herself power
to do more ; — but Mr Thrale evidently interests
himself more and more about me weekly — as does
his fair daughter.

This morning a milliner was ordered to bring
whatever she had to recommend, I believe, to our
habitation, and Mr. Thrale bid his wife and daughter
take what they wanted, and send him the account.

But, not content with this, he charged me to do
the same. You may imagine if I did. However,
finding me refractory, he absolutely insisted upon
presenting me with a complete suit of gauze lino,1
and that in a manner that showed me a refusal
would greatly disoblige him. And then he very
gravely desired me to have whatever I pleased at
any time, and to have it added to his account.
And so sincere I know him to be, that I am sure
he would be rather pleased than surprised if I
should run him up a new bill at this woman's.
He would fain have persuaded me to have taken
abundance of other things, and Mrs. Thrale seemed
more gratified than with what he did for herself.
Tell my dear father all this.

Dr. Woodward called this morning. He is a
physician here, and a chatty, agreeable man.

At dinner, we had Dr. Harrington,2 another
physician, and my father's friend and correspondent,
upon whose account he was excessively civil to me.
He is very sensible, keen, quiet, and well-bred.

In the evening we were all engaged to the
Belvidere, to visit Mrs. Byron,3 who arrived at
Bath two days before.

1 A silk gossamer stuff (Davies's Supplemental Glossary).

2 Dr. Henry Harington, 1727-1816, was a famous Bath physician and
musician. He was a friend of Dr. Burney and Rauzzini.

3 Sophia Trevannion, wife of Rear -Admiral John Byron of the
Narrative, 1723-86, and grandmother of Lord Byron.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 333

The Belvidere is a most beautiful spot ; it
is on a high hill, at one of the extremities of
the town, of which, as of the Avon and all the
adjacent country, it commands a view that is quite
enchanting.

Poor Mrs. Byron is very far from well, though
already better than when I last saw her in town ;
but her charming spirits never fail her, and she
rattled and shone away with all the fire and
brilliancy of vigorous health. Augusta1 is much
improved in her person, but preserves the same
engaging simplicity of manners that distinguished
her at Brighthelmstone. She was quite overjoyed
at meeting me, and talked quite in raptures of
renewing our acquaintance and seeing me often.
I never hardly met with so artless an enthusiasm
for what she loves as in this fair Augusta,
whom I must love in return, whether I will
or not.

In our way home we stopped at the theatre, and
saw the farce of the " Two Misers " 2 — wretched,
wretched stuff indeed !

Friday, — In the evening I had to make my
first visit to Mrs. Cholmley, and a most formidable
business it was, for she had had company to
dinner, and a formal circle was already formed
when my name was announced ; added to which,
as I knew not the lady of the house from her
guests, you may imagine I entered the room
without astonishing the company by my brass.
Mrs. Cholmley made it as little awkward as she
could to me, by meeting me almost at the door.
She received me in a most elegant manner, making
all sorts of polite speeches about my goodness in
making the first visit, and so forth. She seems

1 Augusta Barbara Charlotte, Admiral Byron's third daughter, who
afterwards married Viee-Admiral Christopher Parker, and d. 1824.

2 A musical farce by Kane O'Hara, 1714-82, acted at Co vent Garden
in 1775.

334 DIARY AND LETTERS OF nso

very gentle and well-bred, and perfectly amiable
in character and disposition.

The party I found assembled was Mrs. Montagu,
Mrs. Poyntz, a relation of Lady Spencer, Miss
Gregory, Lord Mulgrave, Hon. Augustus Phipps,
Sir Cornwallis Maud, Mr. Cholmley, Miss Ann
Cholmley, and one or two more that I did not
hear named.

Mrs. Cholmley very obligingly placed me be-
tween herself and Miss Gregory, who is now
become the most intimate acquaintance I have
here, and I find her far more agreeable than I
believed she could have been. Mrs. Cholmley and
I talked of nothing but our fathers ; l she told me
I could not have more affection and respect for
her father than she had for mine ; and I told her
that if we should make any acquaintance with
each other, I hoped nothing but good would come
of it, for no connection ever had a more dutiful
foundation ; and then we went on, she praising
Dr. Burney, and I Mr. Smelt, till our party
lessened, and all the gentlemen were gone.

Mrs. Poyntz, then, who had been at our side
of the room, went over to Mrs. Montagu, who
whispered her, and looked towards me.

" Ay," said Miss Gregory, " Mrs. Montagu has
just now, I believe, found out Miss Burney."

" Yes," said Mrs. Montagu, smiling at me, " I
never knew her till this moment ; but it was very
cruel in you, Miss Gregory, to let me remain so
long in ignorance ; you know I cannot see any-
body three yards off. I asked my Lord Mulgrave
who it was, but he could not tell me ; and I
asked Sir Cornwallis, but he did not know ; at last
Mrs. Poyntz informed me."

By the way, that Mrs. Poyntz is a very sensible

1 Dr. Burney and Mr. Smelt. Mr. Smelt (see ante, p. 324) was a great
favourite with George III.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 335

old gentlewoman. Of Lord Mulgrave and Sir
Cornwallis I saw too little to speak.

I was obliged now to take my own leave ; and
Mrs. Montagu, when I was departing, arose and
followed me, and took my hand, and inquired
earnestly concerning Mr. Thrale, who is a great
favourite with her, and was all graciousness to
me : and Mrs. Cholmley made me promise to
repeat my visit ; and all did wondrous well.

Mr. Cholmley handed me to the chair, and I
then proceeded to Mrs. Lambart's. Here I found
two rooms with company : whist-players in one,
and a commerce party in the other. Fortunately,
I escaped the latter by being very late. Among
the folks were the Dean of Ossory, who is a
well-bred gentlemanlike dean, Mrs. Lewis, his
wife, a very civil woman, and his daughter, etc.

When I had given an account of my preceding
visit to my own friends, Mrs. Lambart made me
sit next her, for she did not play herself, and we
had some very comfortable talk till the commerce
table broke up, and then a certain Miss Willis
came to my other side, and entered into conver-
sation with me very facetiously. A mighty good-
natured, foolish girl.

While we were prating, Mr. E , the clergy-
man I have mentioned before, joined us, and told
Miss Willis how to call herself in Latin.

" Go," said he, " to your father, and say, ' How
do you do, Mr. Voluntas-est ? ' "

This conceited absurdity diverted her and Miss
Lewis amazingly.

*' But, dear ! " she cried, " it's so long I shan't
remember it. I do think Latin words sound very
odd. I daresay, Miss Burney, you know Latin
very well ? "

I assured her to the contrary.

" Well," said the little fool, " I know one word."

336 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

"Do you ? pray what is it ? "
"Why, it's cogitabund. It's a very droll
word."1

Monday. — Lord Mulgrave,2 Augustus Phipps,
Miss Cooper, Dr. Harrington, and Dr. Woodward
dined with us.

I like Lord Mulgrave very much. He has more
wit, and a greater readiness of repartee, than any
man I have met with this age. During dinner
he was all brilliancy, but I drew myself into a
little scrape with him, from which I much
wanted some of his wit to extricate myself. Mrs.
Thrale was speaking of the House of Commons,
and lamenting that she had never heard any
debates there.

" And now," said she, " I cannot, for this
General Johnson has turned us all out most
barbarously."

" General Johnson ? " repeated Lord Mulgrave.

"Ay, or colonel — I don't know what the man
was, but I know he was no man of gallantry."

" Whatever he was," said his lordship, " I hope
he was a land officer."

" I hope so, too, my lord," said she.

" No, no, no," cried Mr. Thrale, " it was Com-
modore Johnson."

" That's bad, indeed ! " said Lord Mulgrave,
laughing. " I thought, by his manners, he had
belonged to the army."

" True," said I : " they were hardly polished
enough for the sea."

This I said a demi-voix, and meant only for

1 Thoughtful. The word is not in Johnson, but the Supplemental
Glossary of Davies gives examples of its use from Tom Brown and
Southey.

2 Constantine John Phipps, second Baron Mulgrave, 1744-92. In 1777
he was a Lord of the Admiralty, and in 1778 commanded the Courageous
with distinction in the Ushant expedition.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 337

Mrs. Thrale ; but Lord Mulgrave heard and drew
up upon them, and pointing his finger at me with
a threatening air, exclaimed,

" Don't you speak, Miss Burney ? What's
this, indeed ? "

They all stared, and to be sure I rouged * pretty
high.

"I did not expect this from you," continued
he, " but take care ! I shall tell you of it a
twelvemonth hence ! "

I could not, at the moment, understand him,
but I afterwards found he was thinking of poor
Jem, and meant to threaten me with putting the
quarrel into his hands. And so, for more reasons
than one, I only answered by laughing.

" Miss Burney," said Mrs. Thrale, " should be
more respectful to be sure, for she has a brother
at sea herself."

" I know it," said he, " and for all her, we shall
see him come back from Kamschatka as polished a
beau as any he will find."

Poor Jem ! God send him safe back, polished
or rough.

Lord Mulgrave's brother Edmund is just
entered into the army.

"He told me t'other day," said his lordship,
"that he did not like the thoughts of being a
parson."

" ' Very well,' said I, ' you are old enough to
choose for yourself ; what will you be then ? '

" * Why, a soldier,' says he.

" ' A soldier ? will you so ? Why then the

1 Blushed. Like Mme. de Sevigne, Miss Burney possessed an
" extreme faciliU a rougir." " Nobody," she writes elsewhere, " I believe,
has so very little command of countenance as myself." "Poor Fanny's
face," said her father, "tells us what she thinks, whether she will or
no" {Early Diary, 1889, i. lxxxii.). Mrs. Delany had the same gift of
sensibility. "She was almost the only person he ever saw," Burke told
Hannah More, "who at eighty-eight blushed like a girl" (H. More's
Memoirs, 1834, ii. 97).

VOL. I Z

338 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

best thing you can do is to embark with your
brother Henry immediately, for you won't know
what to do in a regiment by yourself.' Well, no
sooner said than done ! Henry was just going to
the West Indies in Lord Harrington's regiment,
and Edmund ordered a chaise, and drove to
Portsmouth after him. The whole was settled in
half an hour."

Curious enough. But I am sorry Edmund has
taken this freak. He is an amiable young man,
and I had rather he had kept clear of this fighting
system, and "things of that sort."

In the evening, we had our company enlarged.
Mrs. Montagu came first, and was followed by
Miss Gregory, Mrs. Sydney Lee, Mrs. Bowdler,
and Fanny Bowdler.

While I made tea, Lord Mulgrave sat next
to me, and with a comical mock resentment told
me he had not yet forgiven me for that sneer at his
profession.

" However," he added, " if I can be of any use
to you here at the tea-table, out of neighbourly
charity, I will."

I declined his offer with thanks, but when I
was putting away the tea-chest,

" So," he cried, taking it from me, " cannot
I put that down ? am I not polished enough for
that?'

And afterwards, upon other similar opportu-
nities, he said,

" So you are quite determined not to trust
me ?

Wednesday. — I received Charlotte's most agree-
able account of Edward's stained drawings from
Evelina,1 and I am much delighted that he means

1 Charlotte Burney's letter is printed in the Early Diary, 1889, ii. pp.
288-91. The "stained drawings" were three designs for Evelina, in
which Mme. Duval, Captain Mirvan, Mr. Villars, the heroine and her

1780 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 339

them for the Exhibition, and that we shall thus
show off together. His notion of putting a
portrait of Dr. Johnson into Mr. Villars's parlour
was charming. I shall tell the doctor of it in my
next letter, for he makes me write to him.

In the evening we had Mrs. Lambart, who
brought us a tale, called Edwy and Edilda,1 by the

sentimental Mr. W , and unreadably soft, and

tender, and senseless it is.

Thursday morning, April 13. — I am now come
to the present time, and will try, however brief, to
be tolerably punctual.

Dr. Johnson has sent a bitter reproach to Mrs.
Thrale of my not writing to him, for he has not
yet received a scrawl I have sent him. He says
Dr. Barnard,2 the provost of Eton, has been singing
the praises of my book, and that old Dr. Lawrence 3
has read it through three times within this last
month ! I am afraid he will pass for being super-
annuated for his pains !

" But don't tell Burney this," adds Dr. Johnson,
" because she will not write to me, and values me
no more than if I were a Branghton ! "

Our party to-night at the Dean of Ossory's has
by no means proved enchanting, yet Mrs. Montagu
was there, and Hoare, the painter,4 and the agree-
able Mrs. Lambart. But I was unfortunate enough
not to hear one word from any of them, by being
pestered with witlings all the night.

First I was seated next the eldest Miss L ,5

not the pretty girl I have mentioned, Charlotte,

father, were all introduced. Archdeacon Burney, of Surbiton, has one
of these delicate little pictures, which were exhibited at the Royal
Academy in 1780 (Nos. 418-20). Edward Burney 's heroine is said to
have resembled the beautiful Sophia Streatfield.

1 This was a tale in verse, and in five parts, published in 1779. Miss
Seward, unlike Miss Burney, called it her "poetic darling."

2 Dr. Edward Barnard, 1717-81, Provost of Eton and Canon of Windsor.

3 Dr. Thomas Lawrence, 1711-83, the friend and physician of Johnson.

4 See ante, p. 326. 5 Lewis.

340 DIARY AND LETTERS OF i7so

who is the second daughter. This Miss L is

very heavy and tiresome, though she was pleased
to promise to call upon me, and to cultivate
acquaintance with me, in most civil terms.

This was my fag till after tea, and then Mr.

E joined us ; I have always endeavoured to

shirk this gentleman, who is about as entertaining
and as wise as poor Mr. Pugh, but for whom not
having the same regard, I have pretty soon enough
of him ; and so, as I rather turned away, he
attacked Miss L , and I spent another half-
hour in hearing them.

After this, he aimed at me downright, inquiring
if I had been at Bath before, and so forth, and a
mighty insipid discourse ensued.

This lasted till Miss L proposed a " miss "

party in the next room. Accordingly, off we
moved ; Miss Gregory went first, and I was
following, when she ran back, and said the Dean
was there writing. I would then also have made
off, but he came out after us, and taking my hand,
would lead me into his library, protesting he had
just sealed his letter. And then the other misses

followed, and that wearisome Mr. E , and

another young man yet sillier.

The dean is very musical, and was much dis-
appointed, I believe, that I did not play to him.
However, we had a good deal of talk together, and
he promised to contrive for me a hearing of Miss
Guest, a lady whose pianoforte - playing 1 have
heard extolled by all here, and whom I shall be
much obliged to him for meeting with.

Soon after we went to join the party in the
next room. And then two hours, I believe,
were consumed in the most insipid manner
possible. I will give you a specimen, though, to
judge of.

Mr. E. — "I never had the pleasure of being in

1780 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 341

company with Mrs. Montagu before — I was quite
pleased at it."

And yet the booby could not stay where she
was !

" Mrs. Montagu ! let's see," he continued, " pray,
Miss Burney, did she not write Shakspeare Moral-
ised?"

I simpered a little, I believe, but turned to Miss
Gregory to make the answer.

"No, sir," said she, "only an Essay on the
Genius of Shakspeare."

" I think," said this wight, " nobody must have
so much pleasure at a play as Mrs. Montagu, if it's
well done ; if not, nobody must suffer so much, for
that's the worst of too much knowledge, it makes
people so difficult."

"Ay, that is to say," said the other wiseacre,
"that the more wisdom, the less happiness."

" That's all the better," said Miss L , " for

there are more people in the world ignorant than
wise."

"Very true," said Mr. E ; "for, as Pope

says,

" If ignorance is bliss,
'Tis folly to be wise."1

Pope says ! Did you ever hear such "witlings " ?
But I won't write a word more about the evening
— it was very stupid, and that's enough.

We see Mrs. Montagu very often, and I have
already spent six evenings with her at various
houses.

I am very glad at this opportunity of seeing so
much of her ; for, allowing a little for parade and
ostentation, which her power in wealth, and rank
in literature, offer some excuse for, her conversation

1 Gray's " Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College," last lines.

342 DIARY AND LETTERS OF nso

is very agreeable ; she is always reasonable and
sensible, and sometimes instructive and enter-
taining ; and I think of our Mrs. Thrale, we may
say the very reverse, for she is always entertaining
and instructive, and sometimes reasonable and
sensible ; and I write this because she is just now
looking over me — not but what I think it too !

Mr. Crisp to Miss F. Burney

April 27, 1780.

My dear Fannikin — I am very glad you are
now with the Thrales, in the midst of the Bath
circle. Your time could not be better employed,
for all your St. Martin's daddy wanted to retain
you for some other purpose. You are now at
school, the great school of the world, where swarms
of new ideas and new characters will continually
present themselves before you,

which you'll draw in,
As we do air, fast as 'tis ministered ! 1

My sister Gast, in her younger days, was a great
favourite with an old lady who was a particular
crony and intimate of old Sarah Marlborough, who,
though much of the jade, had undoubtedly very
strong parts, and was indeed remarkably clever.
When Mrs. Hinde (the old lady) would sometimes
talk to her about books, she'd cry out, " Prithee,
don't talk to me about books ; I never read any
books but men and cards ! " But let anybody read
her book,2 and then tell me if she did not draw
characters with as masterly a hand as Sir Joshua
Reynolds.

1 Cymbeline, Act. I. Sc. i. (not textual).

2 The Account of the Conduct of the Dowager Duchess of Marlborough,
1742, was said to be dictated by her to Nathaniel Hooke, the younger,
d. 1763, who received a suspiciously large sum for his services as scribe.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 343

The portion you allowed me of your Tunbridge
and Brighton Journal I sucked in with much
pleasure and avidity. Why, you have begun
already, and make good what I have said above —
you take down whatever you see. Sophy Streat-
field's mother is a character entirely new, and
strongly marked. I pronounce it to be like, and,
though to a degree uncommon, is natural.

I am glad the Attorney-General is a Scotchman,
for I have heard it is a settled observation, that the
Scotch, though deeply learned, great lawyers, great
philosophers, physicians, historians, mathematicians,
etc., are remarkable for having no turn, neither
talents nor relish, for humour. Does not one of
the letters in Swift's works speak of some bishop
who was a Scot, and when asked his opinion of
Gullivers Travels, wondered how people could
read such a heap of nonsensical, improbable lies ?
I hope Mr. Wedderburne is a better judge of law
than of satire and ridicule !

Mrs. Montagu, too ! How it flatters me to have
my idea of her, formed above thirty years ago,
confirmed by this instance.

I believe I have told you of several letters the
Duchess of Portland showed me of hers formerly
(for I had no acquaintance with herself), so full
of affectation, refinement, attempts to philosophise,
talking metaphysics — in all which particulars she so
bewildered and puzzled herself and her readers, and
showed herself so superficial, nay, really ignorant
in the subjects she paraded on — that, in my own
private mind's pocket-book, I set her down for a
vain, empty, conceited pretender, and little else. I
know I am now treading on tender ground ; there-
fore mum for your life, or rather for my life. Were
Mrs. Thrale to know of my presumption, and that
I dare to vent such desperate treason to her play-
mate, what would she say to me ?

344 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

You take no notice of several particulars I want
to hear of. Your unbeautiful, clever heroine,1 beset
all round for the sake of her great fortune — what
is become of her ? I am persuaded she'd make her
own fortune, whatever were the fate of her hunters.
The idea is new and striking, and presents a large
field for unhackneyed characters, observations,
subjects for satire and ridicule, and numberless
advantages you'd meet with by walking in such
an untrodden path.

Have you yet met with Colley Cibber, and read
the passage I recommended to you ?2

I can't say I am sorry your affair with Mr.
Sheridan is at present at a stand. In the mean-
time, the refusal coming from yourself, and not the
manager, tells highly in your favour : your coyness
will tend to enhance your fame greatly in public
opinion.

'Tis expectation makes the blessing dear ! 3

Your loving daddy,

S. C.

Journal resumed

Bath, Friday, — This evening we have all been
at Mrs. Montagu's, where we met Mrs. and Miss
Bowdler, Lord Mulgrave, Mr. Cholmley, and Miss
Cooper. Miss Gregory, of course. Poor Mrs.
Cholmley never ventures out of her own house in
an evening, as her health is extremely delicate.

We had a very entertaining evening, for Mrs.
Montagu, Mrs. Thrale, and Lord Mulgrave talked
all the talk, and talked it so well, no one else had a
wish beyond hearing them.

1 A reference to the first sketch of Cecilia (see ante, p. 312).

2 See ante, p. 322.

3 Sir John Suckling, Against Fruition (not textual).

1780

THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 345

Just before we came away, Miss Bowdler, who
had been seated so far from me that I had not once
spoken with her, crossed over to me, and said,

" I have been longing this great while to get to
you, but could not bear to cross the circle ; but
there is a lady now at Bath, an acquaintance of
mine, who wishes most eagerly to be an acquaint-
ance of yours. She is a relation of Mr. Crisp."

" Mr. Crisp ? " exclaimed I. " Don't you mean
Mr. Crispen?"1

" No, Mr. Crisp ! " repeated she ; " and this lady
wishes to see you so much."

" Oh, so do I to see her," quoth I, " if she is a
relative of Mr. Crisp ! "

" I have promised," continued she, " to endeavour
to introduce her to you : will you, therefore, be so
good as to meet her at my house ? "

" Oh, with the greatest pleasure in the world, at
any time you please ! "

" She has heard a great deal of you, and has seen
some of your letters, and is so impatient that the
first moment you can spare "

We then immediately settled next Monday
morning, when I shall breakfast with them.

I am much delighted with the prospect of seeing
a relation of my beloved daddy ; but I am very
much concerned, nay, and hurt, and half angry, that
this lady, whose name it seems is Leigh, should have
seen any of my letters. It is not fair, and I am
sure it is not pleasant ; however, I shall write to
Chessington about it.

I have one packet ready for him, which I shall
send to-morrow. I dare not scold in that, because
I am so much in arrears, I have not assurance ;
but when I get out of that shame I shall at both

1 Mr. Crispen of Bath — " a half name-sake of my dear Daddy Crisp " —
is mentioned in Fanny's "Teignmouth Journal" of 1773 (Early Diary,
1889, i. 220).

346 DIARY AND LETTERS OF nso

him and Mrs. Gast, whom I believe to be an
accomplice.

Saturday. — We walked in the beautiful meadows
round the city all the morning, and went to drink
tea with the ugly Mrs. C in the evening.

But no more of the beauty of meadows, or
ugliness of poor old women, for I must now speak,
and thank you (I would, if I knew how) for your
very delightful packet, with the account of Rinaldo.
You do very well to compassionate me for missing
such a rehearsal — I was half moped in reading it ;
yet your relation, my dearest Susy, is the very next
best thing to having been there, because it is so
circumstantial, so warm, and so full of feeling. Oh,
that I could but have been with you ! Pacchierotti's
having so much to do in the cantabile style is just
what I have always wished, and I was almost
thrilled only with your account of his energy, and
fire, and exertion in his last song. Oh, that I could
but have heard him ! Do, pray, tell him how much
I repine at my unfortunate absence.

April 29. — It is such an age since I have
written, that had I not kept memorandums in my
tablets, I could not possibly give any account of
our proceedings.

But I shall begin where I left off, with again
thanking you for your long relation of sweet
Pacchierotti's visit after his illness, and for your
design of making him begin his letter sur-le-champ ;
but in truth, I'm a little disappointed that he makes
me wait so long. It will be very good-natured in
you to tease him for me ; but of all things I desire
you not to help him ; for much as I love your
letters, I hate even Garrick thus at second hand,1
and would not give a fig a-dozen for compilations

1 " She [Miss Burney] had never seen or heard a line of Churchill,"
says Lord Macaulay {Edinburgh Review, January 1843, p. 526). But this
is a line from Churchill's Bosciad (Poems, 4th ed., 1769, i. 17).

1780 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 347

of that sort. His note to Sheridan made me laugh,
yet it much surprised me. Oh, these Italians ! no
meekness can guard them from the rage of revenge ;
yet I do most firmly believe nothing but almost
intolerable ill-usage would provoke it in our Pac.

[You managed very kindly for me in what you
produced of my letter to him ; and I wonder,
indeed, in what, if you managed at all, you would
not manage kindly for me. I am rather dis-
appointed by your character of Miss Harrop ;
but the description of the benefit and the crowd
diverted me so much, that I read it in public, and
it merry fled us all.]

Now back to my memorandums.

Sunday. — We had Mrs. Byron and Augusta,
and Mrs. Lee, to spend the afternoon. Augusta
opened her whole heart to me, as we sat together,
and told me all the affairs of her family. Her
brother, Captain George Byron,1 is lately returned
from the West Indies, and has brought a wife with
him from Barbadoes, though he was there only
three weeks, and knew not this girl he has married
till ten days before he left it. [A pleasant circum-
stance for this proud family !]

Poor Mrs. Byron seems destined for mortifica-
tion and humiliation ; yet such is her native fire,
and so wonderful are her spirits, that she bears up
against all calamity, and though half mad one day
with sorrow and vexation, is fit the next to enter-
tain an assembly of company ; — and so to entertain
them as to make the happiest person in the com-
pany, by comparison with herself, seem sad.

Augusta is a very amiably-ingenuous girl, and
I love her the more for her love of her sisters :
she talked to me of them all, but chiefly of Sophia,
the youngest next to herself, but who, having an

1 George Anson Byron, 1758-93, married Charlotte Henrietta Dallas, of
Dallas Castle, Jamaica.

348 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

independent fortune, has quarrelled with her mother,
and lives with one of her sisters, Mrs. Byron,1 who
married a first cousin, and son of Lord Byron.

" Ah, Miss Burney," she says continually, " if
you knew Sophy, you would never bear me ! she
is so much better than I am, — and so handsome,
and so good, and so clever, — and I used to talk to
her of you by the hour together. She longs so to
know you ! * Come,' she says, ' now tell me some-
thing more about your darling, Miss Burney.'
But I ought to hope you may never see her, for
if you did I should be so jealous ! "

You wish to hear more of Mrs. Sydney Lee, but
Augusta so entirely occupied me, that I could talk
to no one else. But it was an odd sort of meeting
between the sister of the rebel general, and the wife
of the king's admiral ! Mrs. Lee corresponds with
her brother, and had a letter from him not long
since, — almost torn, she says, to pieces, it had
been so often opened and read in its voyage and
journey.

Monday. — According to my appointment I
breakfasted at the Bowdlers'. I was immediately
introduced to my daddy's cousin, Miss Leigh.
She is a tall, pretty, elegant girl, very sensible in
her conversation, and very gentle and pleasing in
her manners. I went prepared to like her for Mr.
Crisp's sake, and I came away forced to like her
for her own.

She came up to me in a very flattering manner,
to tell me how much she had wished to make the
acquaintance, and so forth : and then I told her
how happy I was to see a relation of Mr. Crisp.

" What Mr. Crisp is it ? " cried Mrs. Bowdler ;
" is it Sam ? "

" Yes, ma'am," said I, staring at her familiarity.

1 Juliana Elizabeth, whose first husband was the Hon. William Byron,
d. 1776, eldest son of the fifth Lord Byron.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 349

" What ! " cried she, again, "do you know little
Sam Crisp ? "

" I don't know for little," returned I, much sur-
prised ; " but he is the most intimate friend I have
in the world, and the dearest. Do you know him
then?"

"Do I ? — yes, very well ; I have known little
Sam Crisp this long while."

" I can't imagine," cried I, half affronted at her
manner of naming him, " why you should so ' little '
him ; I know not any one thing in the world in
which he is little, — neither in head, nor heart, —
neither in understanding, person, talents, nor mind."

"I fancy, ma'am," said Miss Leigh, "you hardly
mean the Mr. Crisp Miss Burney does."

" I mean Sam Crisp," said she, " the Greenwich
Traveller." *

This appeased me, — and we cleared up the mis-
take. But Mrs. Bowdler, though a very clever
woman, is not a very delicate one. For, after this,
Miss F. Bowdler had a letter brought her, — and
presently read aloud from it, " I long extremely
to know Miss Burney, — I hope she will not leave
Bath till I return."

" Pray," said I, " may I ask who that is from ? "

" From my sister Harriet," 2 answered she.

"Yes," bolted out Mrs. Bowdler, "Harriet is
one of the greatest admirers of Evelina''

These sort of abrupt speeches from people one
hardly knows, are amazingly disagreeable : and
Fanny Bowdler and Miss Leigh looked almost as
awkward as myself.

The rest of the visit was almost wholly devoted
to the praise of Mr. Crisp and Mrs. Gast ; Miss
Leigh adores Mrs. Gast, and so the brother and

1 This was another "Sara Crisp," of whom there is an account in the
Early Diary, 1889, i. xxv. et seq.

2 Henrietta Maria Bowdler, 1754-1830, who wrote poems, essays, etc.
She was the youngest Miss Bowdler.

350 DIARY AND LETTERS OF

1780

the sister were in good hands. She lives here with
her mother, from whom she brought me many
kind speeches, and whom I readily promised to
wait upon.

This evening, the only one since we came, we
spent at home without company.

Tuesday. — We all went to Mrs. Bowdler's.

Mr. Bowdler, a very worthy, extremely little
man (much less than Sam Crisp, I assure you, Mrs.
Bowdler), appeared to-day ; but only appeared, for
he was shy, and spoke not. I have neglected to
mention that the eldest Miss Bowdler,1 by a dread-
ful cold, has quite lost her voice — lost all possible
power of speech ! I never heard of so extra-
ordinary or so horrible a circumstance ; she has
been wholly dumb for three years. She seems per-
fectly resigned, and very mild and patient ; but it
is really painful to be in a room with her.

Besides their own family, we met Mr. Jerning-
ham, the poet.2 I have lately been reading his
poems [if his they may be called]. He seems a
mighty delicate gentleman ; looks to be painted,
and is all daintification in manner, speech, and
dress.

The rest of the company I shall not trouble you
with mentioning, save Miss Leigh, who sat next
me, and filled up all the evening with hearing of
Mr. Crisp, and talking of Mrs. Gast, except what
was given to attending to Mr. Jerningham's singing
to his own accompaniment upon the harp. He has
about as much voice as Sacchini,3 and very sweet-
toned, though very English ; and he sung and
played with a fineness that somewhat resembled

1 Jane Bowdler, 1743-84. Her poems and essays, published post-
humously, ran through sixteen editions between 1787 and 1830.

2 Edward Jerningham, 1727-1812, at this date author of The Deserter,
1770 (see Early Diary, 1889, ii. 333 n.) ; and other poems ; also of
Margaret of Anjou, an'" historical interlude."

3 See post, vol. ii., under July 16, 1781.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 351

the man we looked at at Piozzi's benefit ; for it
required a painful attention to hear him. And
while he sings, he looks the gentlest of all dying
Corydons !

Oh, what must he have thought of Mrs. Bowdler,
who, when he was trying to recollect an air from
the Hermit, called out,

" Pray, Mr. Jerningham, can't you sing us some
of your own poetry ? "

I really feared he would have fainted away at so
gross a question ; but, to my great relief, I observed
he only looked down and smiled.

Wednesday. — At the desire of Miss F. Bowdler,
we all went to the play, to see an actress she is
dotinglyfond of, Mrs. Siddons, in " Belvidera " ; 1 but
instead of falling in love with her, we fell in love
with Mr. Lee, who played "Pierre "2 — and so well !
I did not believe such an actor existed now our
dear Garrick is gone ; a better, except Garrick,
never did I see — nor any one nearly equal to him
— for sense, animation, looks, voice, grace — Oh,
for everything the part would admit — he is indeed
delightful.

Augusta Byron and Miss Gregory were of
our party. They are both so much my friends,
that they made me divide the evening between
them.

In the evening we had Mrs. L , a fat,

round, panting, short-breathed old widow ; and her
daughter, a fubsy, good-humoured, laughing, silly,
merry old maid. They are rich folks, and live
together very comfortably, and the daughter sings
— not in your fine Italian taste ! no, that she and
her mother agree to hold very cheap — but all about

1 Belvidera is the heroine of Otway's Venice Preserved, 1682. It was
one of Mrs. Siddons's earliest characters.

2 Lee of Bath, d. 1781, aged fifty-six. He was "extremely admired" —
says the Bath Chronicle of February 21, 1781 — "for the propriety, force,
and justness of his delivery " (Penley's Bath Stage, 1892, p. 47).

352 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

Daphne, and Chloe, and Damon, and Phillis, and
Jockey !

Friday, — In the morning, to my great concern,
Lord Mulgrave called to take leave. He takes
away with him more wit than he leaves behind
him in all Bath, except what is lodged with Mrs.
Thrale. As to Mrs. Montagu, she reasons well,
and harangues well, but wit she has none. Mrs.
Thrale has almost too much ; for when she is in
spirits, it bursts forth in a torrent almost over-
whelming. Ah ! 'tis a fault she has as much to
herself as her virtues !

Mrs. Cholmley was so kind as to call this morn-
ing, and as I happened to be alone, we had a very
comfortable chat together, and then Mrs. Thrale
came in, and I had the pleasure of introducing
them to each other. She is a woman of as much
real delicacy as Mr. Jerningham (whom Lord
Mulgrave calls a pink-and- white poet — for not only
his cheeks, but his coat is pink) is a man of affected
delicacy.

In the evening we went to visit Mrs. K .

Mrs. K is a Welsh lady, of immense for-
tune, who has a house in the Crescent, and lives in
a most magnificent style. She is about fifty, very
good-humoured, well-bred, and civil, and her waist
does not measure above a hogshead. She is not
very deep, I must own ; but what of that ? If
all were wits, where would be the admirers at
them?

She received me very graciously, having par-
ticularly desired Mrs. Thrale to bring me : for she
is an invalid, and makes no visits herself. She
told me she knew my uncle at Shrewsbury very
well.

"And pray, ma'am," says she, "how does Dr.
Burney do ? "

" Very well," I thanked her.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 353

" Do you know Dr. Burney, ma'am ? " said Mr.
Thrale.

"No, sir, but I know his book. I think it's
vastly pretty."

"Why, yes, ma'am," said Mrs. Thrale, "Dr.
Burney has found out the art of making all people
like both him and his book."

It is comical enough to see how she is always
provoked at hearing these underlings praise him.
She is ready to kill them for liking him, and has a
whimsical notion that their applause degrades him.

"Yes, ma'am," answered Mrs. K , "and

there is somebody else too that has made all
people like her book."

" True, ma'am ; Dr. Burney's daughter inherits
that art from him."

" Oh, ma'am, I was so entertained ! Oh, dear !
and I was quite ill too, ma'am, quite ill when I
read it. But for all that — why, why, ma'am, I was
as eager, and I wanted sadly to see the author."

Soon after this, arrived Mrs. Montagu and Miss
Gregory. Miss Gregory brought a chair next to
mine, and filled up the rest of my evening. I am
really half sorry she appeared to such disadvantage
that evening we saw her together at Mrs. Ord's,
for I now begin to like her very much. She is
frank, open, shrewd, and sensible, and speaks her
opinion both of matters and things with a plump-
ness of honesty and readiness that both pleases and
diverts me. And though she now makes it a rule
to be my neighbour wherever we meet, she has
never made me even a hint of a compliment ; and
that is not nothing as times go.

Afterwards, who should be announced but the
author of the Bath Guide, Mr. Anstey.1 I was

1 Christopher Anstey, 1724-1805. His New Bath Guide; or, Memoirs
of the B-r-d Family, had been published in 1766. From 1770 to 1805 he
lived at Bath (No. 5 Royal Crescent). He is buried in Walcot Church ;
and has an honorary monument in Poets' Corner, Westminster Abbey.
VOL. I 2 A

354 DIARY AND LETTERS mo

now all eye ; but not being able to be all ear, I
heard but little that he said, and that little was
scarce worth hearing. He had no opportunity of
shining, and was as much like another man as you
can imagine. It is very unfair to expect wonders
from a man all at once ; yet it was impossible to
help being disappointed, because his air, look, and
manner are mighty heavy and unfavourable to him.

But here see the pride of riches ! and see whom

the simple Mrs. K can draw to her house !

However, her party was not thrown away upon
her, — as I ought to say, because highly honoured
by her exultingly whispering to Mrs. Thrale,

"Now, ma'am, now, Mrs. Thrale, I'm quite
happy ; for I'm surrounded with people of sense !
Here's Mrs. Montagu, and Mrs. Thrale, and Mr.
Anstey, and Miss Burney. I'm quite surrounded,
as I may say, by people of sense ! "

PART VIII
1780

Dr. Harrington — Chatterton — Bishop Porteus — A dull evening
— A busy day — Mrs. Dobson — A MS. tragedy — A long
story about nothing — An evening party — Pliny Melmoth —
A comical day — A fine lady — A disappointed gentleman — A
grand-daughter of Richardson — Bath diary resumed — Dr.
Johnson — His fondness for Miss Burney — Sir Thomas
Lawrence's family — Anstey — Bishop of Peterborough
— A bishop's lady — The Duchess of Devonshire — Lady
Spencer — Lord Mulgrave — Sea captains — Younger brothers
— A mistake — Bath gossips — Anecdotes of Abyssinian Bruce
— The Bowdler family — Table-talk — Admiral Byron — Mrs.
Cholmley — An evening party — Anstey — Lady Miller — An
agreeable rattle — A private concert — An accident — Lord
Althorpe — A Bath beau — Lord Huntingdon — Lord Mul-
grave— The Bishop of Peterborough — Mrs. Elizabeth Carter
— Ferry's folly — A singular collation — An evening party —
A public breakfast — A singular character — A female mis-
anthrope— The results of Hume's Essays — Love and suicide
— Beattie versus Bolingbroke — The Belvidere — Anecdote of
Lord Mulgrave — A Bath ball — Love-making — Chit-chat —
Blue-stockings — Flirtation — A good match — Mrs. Thrale —
Match-making — The dangers of levity.

Saturday. — In the morning my ever kind Mrs. T.
accompanied me to the Belvidere, to call upon
Mrs. and Miss Leigh, and to invite the latter to
our house in the evening, to meet the Bowdlers.
Mrs. Leigh herself cannot make any visits, because
she has dreadfully sprained her ankle, and is obliged
to wear a large shoe and flannel. She is a very

355

356 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

sensible, agreeable woman, not so elegant as her
daughter, but very civil, courteous, and good-
natured. We talked away about Mr. Crisp and
Mrs. Gast like mad. I know no subject upon
which I am more fluent ; and so I suppose I
seldom have, to a new acquaintance, appeared
more loquacious. They were both too prudent to
mention having seen my letters ; but Miss Bowdler
has given me intelligence which I shall not make
the less use of.

Is it not a shocking thing, my dear Susette,
that I am obliged to write to you upon this decent
paper ? I never bring half enough riff-raff with
me for the volumes I write to you, and yet it
always goes to my heart to treat you so genteelly.

Well, to go back to that Saturday that passed
an age ago, where I left off in my last.

Dr. Harrington and Miss Cooper dined here.

Dr. Harrington, I find, is descended in a right
line from the celebrated Sir John Harrington, who
was godson of Queen Elizabeth, and one of the
gayest writers and flashers of her reign ; and it is
his son that is the Rev. Henry Harrington, who
published those very curious, entertaining, and
valuable remains of his ancestor under the title
Nugce Antiquce, which my father and all of us
were formerly so fond of.

We had much talk among us of Chatterton,
and, as he was best known in this part of the
world, I attended particularly to the opinion of
Dr. Harrington concerning him ; and the more
particularly because he is uncommonly well-versed
in the knowledge of English antiquities ; therefore
was I much surprised to find it his opinion that
Chatterton was no impostor, and that the poems
were authentic, and Rowley's. Much, indeed, he
said they had been modernised in his copies ; not

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 357

by design, but from the difficulty which attended
reading the old manuscript — a difficulty which the
genius of Chatterton urged him not to confess but
to redress. A book, however, is now publishing
that is entirely to clear up this so-long-disputed
and very mysterious affair, by Dr. Mills,1 Dean of
Exeter.

In the evening we had a great deal more com-
pany,— consisting of the Dean of Ossory, Mrs. and
Miss Lewis, but not Charlotte Lewis, who is
not well, Mrs. and Miss Bowdler, my pretty new
acquaintance, Miss Leigh, and Mr. Jerningham.

Miss Leigh and I kept together very rigidly the
whole evening, and talked a great deal of talk,
and grew very intimate ; but one time, when acci-
dentally I took up a book from the table, merely to
peep at the title-page, Mr. Jerningham approached
me, and said, in a gentle style of raillery,

" Why do you take up a book, Miss Burney ? —
you know you can't read."

" Oh," answered I, in the same gentle style, " I
only do it to make believe."

And you can't think how prettily he laughed.
He inquired, however, a great deal after my
father, and wonders he does not come down
here.

Another time, he said to me, " Pray were not
you the lady that used the glass the other night at
the play?"2

Here I was quite shocked ; but could only
defend, not deny ; protesting, with great truth,
that I only used it for the performers, and could
not see at all without it.

"A lady in the box with me," continued he,
" wanted sadly to know which was you ; so, indeed,

1 Jeremiah Milles, D.D., 1714-84, President of the Society of Anti-
quaries. His book on Chatterton was published in 1782.

2 Miss Burney — it may be remembered — was very short-sighted.

358 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

did all the company I was with, and I fancy I
pointed right — did not I point right ? "

Mrs. Bowdler, to keep up the character I have
already given of her, once called out from the
farthest end of the room, " Miss Burney, my
daughter Harriet longs more and more to see you ;
she writes us word she hopes to come home in
time, or she shall be prodigiously disappointed."

I had much discourse with the dean, all about
the prospects, and the walks, and the country ; he
is extremely civil and well-bred.

Sunday. — This morning Miss Gregory came to
accompany us to St. James's Church, to hear Dr.
Porteus, Bishop of Chester,1 preach a charity
sermon for an excellent institution here, to enable
the poor sick to drink the waters in an hospital.
It was an admirable sermon, rational, judicious,
forcible, and truth-breathing ; and delivered with
a clearness, stillness, grace, and propriety that
softened and bettered us all — as, I believe, appeared
by the collection, for I fancy not a soul left the
church without offering a mite.

The evening we spent with old Mrs. C ,

and divers other old gentlewomen assembled at her
house. Immensely dull work, indeed !

Monday. — This morning we appointed for hear-
ing Miss Guest play ; and Miss L , that good

and odd old maid I have already mentioned, con-
ducted us to her house ; and was delighted beyond
measure with a mixture of good-humour for us,
and exultation for herself, that she had the credit
of the introduction.

Miss Guest is very young, but far from hand-
some ; she is, however, obliging, humble, unassum-
ing, and pleasing. At her house, by appointment,
we met the Dean of Ossory and Dr. Woodward.

She began with playing the third of Eichner,

1 Beilby Porteus, 1731-1808, Bishop of Chester from 1776 to 1787.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 359

and I wish she had begun with something else, for
I have so often heard our dear Etty in this, that
I was quite spoiled for Miss Guest, or, I firmly
believe, for anybody ; because in Eichner, as in
Bach of Berlin, Echard and Boccherini, Etty plays
as if inspired, and in taste, expression, delicacy, and
feeling, leaves nothing to wish. Miss Guest has a
very strong hand, and is indeed a very fine player
— so fine a one as to make me think of Etty while
she plays, though always, and in all particulars, to
this poor girl's disadvantage.

She next played the second of Clementi, which
seemed to want nothing but a strong hand, and
therefore I was full as well content with the player
as with the music, but not enchanted with either.

After this she sang, " Io che fedele," and here I
thought I liked her better than in her playing.
She has but little voice, but it is very sweet.
Sacchini was her master, and, I fancy, must have
taught her this very song, for she really sings it
charmingly. Altogether I was so well pleased
with her that I was quite sorry we could stay to
hear nothing more. I am most greedily hungry
for a little music, and have heard nothing at all
approaching Miss Guest since I left town. She is
to come hither to give lessons to Miss Thrale, and
help keep up her singing, and so I shall probably
often hear her.

In our way home we met Miss Gregory, who
flew up to me, and taking my hand, cried,

" I have received in a letter I had this morning
such an eloge of Evelina — such a description of
you. 'Tis from Mrs. Chapone,1 too, and I will
show you next time we meet."

There's for you ! who would not be a blue-
stockinger at this rate ?

1 Hester Chapone, nde Mulso, 1727-1801, the friend of Richardson, and
author of the once famous Letters on the Improvement of the Mind, 1773.

360 DIARY AND LETTERS OF

1780

We parted with Miss L upon the Parade,

and came in to dress, and while I was yet engaged
in this important occupation, Mrs. Thrale came

laughing into my room to tell me Miss L had

just been with her again, and told her she had just
been with Mrs. Dobson, " And, dear, ma'am, there
I heard all about Miss Burney ! I was never so
surprised. But I am going to the library im-
mediately for the book ; though I assure you I
read it all when it first came out ; but that was
nothing like, not knowing anything of the matter ;
but Mrs. Dobson has let me into the secret, so I
wanted to know if it's all true ? "

Mrs. Thrale readily confirmed it.

" Well," cried she, " I shall run to the library,
then, directly and fetch it ; but to be sure I
thought from the beginning that something was
the matter, though I could not tell what, because,
ma'am, I felt such a panic, — I assure you when I
sung before Miss Burney I was never in such a
panic in my life ! "

Mrs. Dobson, I daresay, is not a new name
to you ; she has made an abridged translation
of Petrarch's Life, and of the History of the
Troubadours} She has long been trying to make
acquaintance with Mrs. Thrale, but Mrs. Thrale
not liking her advances, has always shrunk from
them ; however, I find she has prevailed with Miss

L to let her be one of her party when her visit

is returned.

This evening we all went to Mrs. Cholmley's,
in consequence of an elegant invitation from that
very elegant lady, to meet Mrs. Montagu, who
was there with Miss Gregory, Miss Poyntz, and a
Mrs. Wilson.

1 Mrs. Susannah Dobson, d. 1795. Her translation (Johnson calls it
an epitome) of the Abbe de Sade's Mimoires pour la Vie de Pttrarque had
appeared in 1775 ; her Literary History of the Troubadours, a version of
Curne de Sainte-Palaye, in 1779 (see post, p. 365).

1780 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 361

We had a very cheerful and pleasant evening.

Tuesday, — This morning I went to the Belvidere
to breakfast, by engagement, with Mrs. and Miss
Leigh.

I like them more and more, and we talked about
dear Chessington, and were quite comfortable, and
I was so well pleased with my visit that I stayed
with them almost all the morning.

In the evening we went to Mrs. Lambart, who is
another of my favourites. I was very ready to like
her for the sake of her brother, Sir Philip Jennings
Clerke ; and I find her so natural, so chatty, so
prone to fun and ridicule, and so sociably agree-
able, that I am highly pleased with her acquaint-
ance.

This evening we had plenty of sport with her,
of the ridiculous sort, which is quite her favourite
style. She had nobody with her at first but a
Miss Pleydell, a very unaffected and good-
humoured girl, and therefore she produced for
our entertainment a new tragedy, in manuscript,
written by a Worcester clergyman, who is tutor
to her son. [I will inquire his name some time,
and perhaps Edward may know him.] This tragedy,
it seems, Mr. Sheridan has read, and has promised
to bring out next winter. It is called Timoleon}
It is mighty common trash, and written in very
clumsy language, and many of the expressions
afforded us much diversion by their mock grandeur,
though not one affected, interested, or surprised us.
But, it seems, when we complained of its length and
want of incident, Mrs. Lambart told us that the
author was aware of that, and said he knew there
was no incident, but that he could not help it, for
there was none that he could find in the history !

1 By George Butt, D.D., 1741-95, at this date Rector of Stanford and
Vicar of Clifton. It had been submitted to Garrick in 1777. It was
apparently never printed or acted (Biographia Dramatica, 1812, iii. 338).

362 DIARY AND LETTERS OF irso

Don't you admire the necessity he was under of
making choice of a subject to which he knew such
an objection ?

I did not, however, hear above half the piece,
though enough not to regret missing the rest, for

Mr. E now made his appearance, and Mrs.

Thrale read the rest to herself.

As you seem to have rather a taste for these
" Witlings," I will give you another touch of this
young divine. He soon found out what we were
about, and presently said, " If that play is writ by
the person I suspect, I am sure I have a good
right to know some of it ; for I was once in a
house with him, and his study happened to be
just over my head, and so there I used to hear
him spouting by the hour together."

He spoke this in a tone of complaint that made
us all laugh, with which facetiousness, however,
he was so far from being disturbed, that he only
added, in a voice of fretful plaintiveness,

" I'm sure I've cause enough to remember it, for
he has kept me awake by the whole night together."

We were now not content with simpering, for
we could not forbear downright laughing : at which
he still looked most stupidly unmoved.

" Pray, Mrs. Lambart," said he, " what is its
name ? "

" Timoleon" answered she.

" Pray," said he, " is it an invention of his own,
or an historical fact ? "

[When we were coming away, Mrs. Lambart,
taking the play from off the table, and bringing it
to me, asked me, in a comical manner, to read it
through, and try to find something to praise, that
she might let the author know I had seen and
approved of it. I laughed, but declined the task,

for jmany reasons, and then Mr. E approaching

me said,

1780 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 363

"Ma'am, if you were to read it with a little
pencil in your hand, just to mark your favourite
passages, and so forth, I should think it might be
a very good thing, and — and of use." Of use ? —
ha, ha !]

Wednesday was a sort of grand day. We all

dined and spent the evening at Mrs. K 's.

Our party was Mrs. Montagu, Mrs. Poyntz, Miss
Gregory, Miss Owen, Dr. Maningham, and Mr.
Hunt.

The ladies you have heard of enough. Of the
men, Dr. Maningham is very good-humoured, fat,
and facetious. He asked me much after my dear
father, whom he met with at Buxton, and after the
Denoyers, with whom he seemed extremely in-
timate, and so, indeed, he was well inclined to be
with me, for he shook me by the wrist twenty times
in the course of the day. Mr. Hunt is a young
man of very large independent fortune, very ugly,
very priggish, a violent talker, and a self-piquer
upon immense good breeding.

Miss Gregory and I kept together all the day,
and did each of us very well. She told me that
the Mrs. Wilson I met at Mrs. Cholmley's wanted
to know me, and, if I should not think her " very
impudent," would come up to speak to me the first
time she saw me on the Parade. I condescended
to send her a civil permission.

Mrs. K took the first opportunity that pre-
sented itself, to make me, in a low voice, abundance
of civil speeches about Evelina. All the loud
speeches were made by Mr. Hunt, who talked
incessantly, and of nothing but dancing ! Poor
Mrs. Montagu looked tired to death, and could not
get in a word ; — it was really ridiculous to see how
this coxcomb silenced her.

When everybody was gone, but ourselves and
Miss Gregory, we Misses growing somewhat

364 DIARY AND LETTERS OF irso

facetious in a corner, Mrs. K good-humouredly

called out, " I'm sure, ladies, I am very glad to see
you so merry. Ah, — one of you young ladies, — I
don't say which — has given me a deal of entertain-
ment ! I'm sure I could never leave off reading ;
and when Miss Owen came into my room, says I,
don't speak a word to me, for I'm so engaged ! —
I could not bear to be stopped — and then, Mrs.
Thrale, I had such a prodigious desire to see her —
for I said, says I, ' I'm sure she must have a good
heart, — here's such fine sentiments,' says I. — Oh !
it's a sweet book ! "

" Ay, ma'am," said Mrs. Thrale ; " and we that
know her, like her yet better than her book."

" Well, ma'am," answered she, " and I that know
the book best, — to be sure I like that."

" Then, ma'am, you show your taste ; and I my
judgment."

" And what must I show ? " cried I — " my back,
I believe, and run away, if you go on so ! "

Here, then, it stopped ; but when I was taking
leave Mrs. K repeated her praises, and added,

" I'm sure, ma'am, you must have a very happy
way of thinking ; and then there's Mrs. Duval, —
such a natural character ! "

Thursday. — We were appointed to meet the
Bishop of Chester l at Mrs. Montagu's. This proved
a very gloomy kind of grandeur ; the Bishop waited
for Mrs. Thrale to speak, Mrs. Thrale for the
Bishop ; so neither of them spoke at all !

Mrs. Montagu cared not a fig, as long as she
spoke herself, and so she harangued away. Mean-
while Mr. Melmoth, the Pliny Melmoth,2 as he is
called, was of the party, and seemed to think nobody

1 See ante, p. 358.

2 William Melmoth the younger, 1710-99. His translation of Pliny's
Letters had appeared as far back as 1746. Like Anstey, he resided in
Bath, living there forty years at 12 Bladud Buildings. He was buried
at Batheaston, and has a tablet in the Abbey Church.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 365

half so great as himself, and, therefore, chose to
play first- violin without further ceremony. But,
altogether, the evening was not what it was in-
tended to be, and I fancy nobody was satisfied. It
is always thus in long-projected meetings.

The Bishop, however, seems to be a very elegant
man : Mrs. Porteus, his lady, is a very sensible and
well-bred woman : he had also a sister with him,
who sat quite mum all the night, and looked
prodigiously weary.

Mr. Melmoth seems intolerably self-sufficient —
appears to look upon himself as the first man in
Bath, and has a proud conceit in look and manner,
mighty forbidding. His lady is in nothing like the
Bishop's ; I am sure I should pity her if she were.

The good Miss Cooper was of the party, and a
Mrs. Forster. I, as usual, had my friend Greg, at
my elbow. If I had not now taken to her, I should
absolutely run wild !

Friday was a busy and comical day. We had
an engagement of long standing, to drink tea with

Miss L , whither we all went, and a most queer

evening did we spend.

When we entered, she and all her company were
looking out of the window ; however, she found us
out in a few minutes, and made us welcome in a
strain of delight and humbleness at receiving us,
that put her into a flutter of spirits, from which
she never recovered all the evening.

Her fat, jolly mother took her seat at the top of
the room ; next to her sat a lady in a riding habit,
whom I soon found to be Mrs. Dobson ; below her
sat a gentlewoman, prim, upright, neat, and mean ;
and, next to her, sat another, thin, hagged,1 wrinkled,
fine, and tawdry, with a thousand frippery orna-
ments and old-fashioned furbelows ; she was excel-
lently nicknamed, by Mrs. Thrale, the Duchess of

1 Haggard.

366 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

Monmouth. On the opposite side was placed Mrs.
Thrale, and, next to her, Queeny. For my own
part, little liking the appearance of the set, and
half- dreading Mrs. Dobson, from whose notice I
wished to escape, I had made up myself to one of
the now deserted windows, and Mr. Thrale had

followed me. As to Miss L , she came to

stand by me, and her panic, I fancy, returned, for
she seemed quite panting with a desire to say
something, and an incapacity to utter it.

It proved happy for me that I had taken this
place, for in a few minutes the mean, neat woman,
whose name was Aubrey, asked if Miss Thrale was
Miss Thrale ?

"Yes, ma'am."

" And pray, ma'am, who is that other young
lady ? "

" A daughter of Dr. Burney's, ma'am."

" What ! " cried Mrs. Dobson, " is that the lady
that has favoured us with that excellent novel ? "

" Yes, ma'am."

Then burst forth a whole volley from all at once.
" Very extraordinary, indeed ! " said one — " Dear
heart, who'd have thought it ? " said another — " I
never saw the like in my life ! " said a third. And
Mrs. Dobson, entering more into detail, began
praising it through, but chiefly Evelina herself,
which she said was the most natural character she
had ever met in any book.

Meantime, I had almost thrown myself out of
the window, in my eagerness to get out of the way
of this gross and noisy applause ; but poor Miss
L , having stood quite silent a long time, sim-
pering, and nodding her assent to what was said,
at last broke forth with,

" I assure you, ma'am, we've been all quite
delighted : that is, we had read it before, but only
now upon reading it again "

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 367

I thanked her, and talked of something else, and
she took the hint to have done ; but said,

" Pray, ma'am, will you favour me with your
opinion of Mrs. Dobson's works ? "

A pretty question, in a room so small that even
a whisper would be heard from one end to another !
However, I truly said I had not read them.

Mr. and Mrs. Whalley now arrived, and I was
obliged to go to a chair — when such staring fol-
lowed ; they could not have opened their eyes
wider when they first looked at the Guildhall
giants ! I looked with all the gravity and demure-
ness possible, in order to keep them from coming
plump to the subject again, and, indeed, this, for
a while, kept them off.

Soon after, Dr. Harrington arrived, which closed

our party. Miss L went whispering to him,

and then came up to me, with a look of dismay,
and said,

" Oh, ma'am, I'm so prodigiously concerned ;
Mr. Henry won't come ! "

" Who, ma'am ? "

"Mr. Henry, ma'am, the doctor's son.1 But,
to be sure, he does not know you are here, or else
— but I'm quite concerned, indeed, for here now
we shall have no young gentlemen ! "

" Oh, all the better," cried I. " I hope we shall
be able to do very well without."

" Oh yes, ma'am, to be sure. I don't mean for
any common young gentlemen ; but Mr. Henry,
ma'am, it's quite another thing ; — however, I think
he might have come ; but I did not happen to
mention in my card that you were to be here, and
so — but I think it serves him right for not coming
to see me."

1 See ante, p. 356. The Rev. Henry Harington, 1755-91, compiler,
from the Harington papers, of the Nugce Antiques, a second edition of
which had recently appeared.

368 DIARY AND LETTERS OF

1780

Soon after the mamma hobbled to me, and began
a furious panegyric upon my book, saying, at the
same time,

" I wonder, Miss, how you could get at them
low characters. As to the lords and ladies, that's
no wonder at all ; but, as to t'others, why, I have
not stirred, night nor morning, while I've been
reading it : if I don't wonder how you could be so
clever ! "

And much, much more. And, scarcely had she

unburthened herself, ere Miss L trotted back

to me, crying, in a tone of mingled triumph and
vexation,

" Well, ma'am, Mr. Henry will be very much
mortified when he knows who has been here ; that
he will, indeed : however, I'm sure he deserves it ! "

I made some common sort of reply, that I
hoped he was better engaged, which she vehemently
declared was impossible.

We had now some music. [Miss L sung

various old elegies of Jackson, Dr. Harrington,
and Linley, and oh how I dismalled in hearing
them ! Mr. Whalley, too, sung " Robin Gray/'
and divers other melancholic ballads, and Miss
Thrale sang " Ti seguire fedele."]

But the first time there was a cessation of
harmony, Miss L , again respectfully approach-
ing me, cried,

" Well, all my comfort is that Mr. Henry will
be prodigiously mortified ! But there's a ball
to-night, so I suppose he's gone to that. How-
ever, I'm sure if he had known of meeting you
young ladies here — but it's all good enough for
him, for not coming ! "

" Nay," cried I, "if meeting young ladies is a
motive with him, he can have nothing to regret
while at a ball, where he will see many more than
he could here."

1780 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 369

" Oh, ma'am, as to that — but I say no more,
because it mayn't be proper ; but, to be sure, if
Mr. Henry had known — however, he'll be well
mortified ! "

Soon after this, a chair next mine being vacated,
Mrs. Dobson came and seated herself in it, to my
somewhat dismay, as I knew what would follow.
Plump she came upon her subject, saying,

" Miss Burney, I am come to thank you for the
vast entertainment you have given me. I am quite
happy to see you ; I wished to see you very much.
It's a charming book, indeed ; the characters are
vastly well supported ! "

In short, she ran on for half-an-hour, I believe,
in nothing but plain, unadorned, downright praise ;
while I could only bow, and say she was very good,
and long to walk out of the room.

When she had run herself out of breath, and
exhausted her store of compliments, she began
telling me of her own affairs ; talked, without any
introduction or leading speeches, of her translations,
and took occasion to acquaint me she had made
£400 of her Petrarca. She then added some other
anecdotes, which I have not time to mention, and
then said,

"Miss Burney, I shall be very happy to wait
upon you and Mrs. Thrale. I have longed to know
Mrs. Thrale these many years : pray, do you think
I may wait upon you both on Sunday morning ? "

"To be sure, we shall be very happy."

" Well, then, if you don't think it will be an
intrusion — but will you be so good as to mention
it to Mrs. Thrale?"

I was obliged to say " Yes," and soon after she
quitted me to go and give another dose of flummery
to Mrs. Thrale.

I was not two minutes relieved, ere Miss L

returned, to again assure me how glad she was that

vol. i 2 b

370 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

Mr. Henry would be mortified. The poor lady was
quite heartbroken that we did not meet.

The next vacation of my neighbouring chair was

filled by Mrs. L , who brought me some flowers ;

and when I thanked her, said,

" Oh, miss, you deserve everything ! You've writ
the best and prettiest book. That lord there — I
forget his name, that marries her at last — what a
fine gentleman he is ! You deserve everything for
drawing such a character ; and then Miss Elena,
there, Miss Belmont, as she is at last — what a
noble couple of 'em you have put together ! As to
that t'other lord, I was glad he had not her, for I
see he had nothing but a bad design."

Well, have you enough of this ridiculous
evening ? Mrs. Thrale and I have mutually agreed
that we neither of us ever before had so complete a
dish of gross flattery as this night. Yet let me be
fair, and tell you that this Mrs. Dobson, though
coarse, low - bred, forward, self - sufficient, and
flaunting, seems to have a strong and masculine
understanding, and parts that, had they been united
with modesty, or fostered by education, might
have made her a shining and agreeable woman ;
but she has evidently kept low company, which she
has risen above in literature, but not in manners.
She obtained Mrs. Thrale's leave to come on
Sunday, and to bring with her a grand-daughter of
Mr. Richardson's, who, she said, was dying to see
Mrs. T. and Miss B., and who Mr. Whalley said
had all the elegance and beauty which her grand-
father had described in Clarissa or Clementina.

Sunday. — Mrs. Dobson called, and brought with
her Miss Ditcher 1 — a most unfortunate name for a
descendant of Richardson ! However, Mr. Whalley
had not much exaggerated, for she is, indeed, quite

1 Daughter of Mary, or "Polly" Richardson, eldest daughter of the
novelist, and Mr. Philip Ditcher, a Bath surgeon.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 371

beautiful, both in face and figure. All her features
are very fine ; she is tall, looks extremely modest,
and has just sufficient consciousness of her attrac-
tions to keep off bashfulness, without enough to
raise conceit. I think I could take to her very
much, but shall not be likely to see her again.

Bath, May 28. — I was very happy, my dearest
girls, with the account of your safe return from the
borough. I never mentioned your having both
accompanied me till I had got half way to Bath ;
for I found my dear Mrs. Thrale so involved in
business, electioneering, canvassing, and letter-
writing, that after our first embrassades, we hardly
exchanged a word till we got into the chaise next
morning.

Dr. Johnson, however, who was with her, re-
ceived me even joyfully ; and, making me sit by
him, began a gay and spirited conversation, which
he kept up till we parted, though in the midst of
all this bustle.

The next morning we rose at four o'clock, and
when we came downstairs, to our great surprise,
found Dr. Johnson waiting to receive and break-
fast with us ; though the night before he had
taken leave of us, and given me the most cordial
and warm assurances of the love he has for me,
which I do indeed believe to be as sincere as I can
wish ; and I failed not to tell him the affectionate
respect with which I return it ; though, as well as
I remember, we never came to this open declaration
before.

We, therefore, drank our coffee with him, and
then he handed us both into the chaise. He meant
to have followed us to Bath, but Mrs. Thrale dis-
couraged him, from a firm persuasion that he would
be soon very horribly wearied of a Bath life : an
opinion in which I heartily join.

372 DIARY AND LETTERS OF

1780

When at last I told Mrs. T. of your adventure
of accompanying me to the borough, she scolded
me for not bringing you both in ; but, as I told
her, I am sure you would have been very uncom-
fortable in a visit so ill-timed. However, she said
she hoped she should see you both there when
again settled for winter, and make amends for so
inhospitable a beginning.

Adventures in our journey we had no time to
think of; we flew along as swift as possible, but
stopped to change horses at Devizes in preference
to Chippenham, merely to inquire after the fair and
very ingenious family of the Lawrences ; but we
only saw the mother and elder son.1

We found our dear master charmingly well, and
very glad indeed to see us. Miss Cooper, who was
with them, and who is made up of quick sensations,
manifested the most pleasure of all the party. We
have agreed to visit comfortably in town. She is
by no means either bright or entertaining, but she
is so infinitely good, so charitable to the poor, so
kind to the sick, so zealous for the distressed, and
in every part of her conduct so blameless where
quiet, and so praiseworthy where active, that I am
really proud of the kindness she seems to have
taken for me, and shall cultivate it with the truest
satisfaction.

The next morning we had visitors pouring in
to see us after our journey ; but the two whose
eagerness was infinitely most sincere, were the
Bishop of Peterborough,2 who adores, and is adored
in return by Mrs. Thrale, and the fair Augusta
Byron, my romantically -partial young friend.

In the evening we all went to the Dean of
Ossory's. I felt horribly fagged ; but Mrs. Thrale

1 See ante, p. 325. The future Sir Thomas was the youngest child.

2 John Hinchcliffe, 1731-94, Master of Trinity College, Cambridge, and
Bishop of Peterborough from 1769 to his death. He had been head
master of Westminster School.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 373

was so gay and so well, in spite of all her fatigues,
that I had not courage to complain and desire to
be excused joining the party.

There was a great deal of company : among
them Mrs. and Miss F. Bowdler, who again spoke
very kindly of my mother; but of that I shall
write to herself; and Mrs. Lambart, and Mr.
Anstey, and the Bishop of Peterborough ; besides
others not worth naming.

The bishop, in conversation, is indeed a most
shining and superior man, — gay, high - spirited,
manly, quick, and penetrating. I was seated,

however, between the two Miss L 's, and heard

but little conversation besides their's and my own,
— and which of the three afforded me most delight
I have now no time to investigate.

Mr. Anstey opens rather more, and approaches
nearer to being rather agreeable. If he could
but forget he had written the Bath Guide, with
how much more pleasure would everybody else
remember it.

Sunday. — We went to the abbey, to hear the
bishop preach. He gave us a very excellent
sermon, upon the right use of seeking knowledge,
namely, to know better the Creator by his works,
and to learn our own duty in studying his power.

Mrs. Montagu we miss cruelly, and Miss
Gregory I think of everywhere I go, as she used
to be my constant elbow companion, and most
smiling greeter. Mrs. Montagu has honoured me,
in a letter to Mrs. T., with this line : " Give my
love to the truly lovely Miss Burney ! " I fancy
she meant lovable ; but be that as it may, I am
sure she meant no harm, and therefore I shall take
her blindness in good part.

Monday. — We went to Mrs. Lambart. Here
we met Lady Dorothy Inglish, a Scotchwoman ;
Sir Robert Pigot, an old Englishman ; Mrs. North,

374 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

the Bishop of Worcester's handsome wife, and
many nameless others.

Mrs. North, who is so famed for tonishness,
exhibited herself in a more perfect undress than I
ever before saw any lady, great or small, appear in
upon a visit. Anything alike worse as better than
other folks, that does but obtain notice and excite
remark, is sufficient to make happy ladies and
gentlemen of the ton. I always long to treat them
as daddy Crisp does bad players (when his own
partners) at whist, and call to them, with a nod of
contemptuous anger, " Bless you ! bless you ! "

I had no talk but with Mrs. Lambart herself,
who now, Mrs. Byron excepted, is far the most
agreeable woman in Bath — I mean among the
women mistresses — for among the women misses
of the very first class, I reckon Miss F. Bowdler.

Tuesday. — The bishop and Mrs. Lambart dined
with us, and stayed the afternoon, which was far
more agreeable, lively, and sociable than when we
have more people. I believe I told you that,
before I last left Bath the bishop read to Mrs. T.
and me a poem upon Hope, of the Duchess of
Devonshire's, obtained with great difficulty from
Lady Spencer.1 Well, this day he brought a tale
called Anxiety, which he had almost torn from
Lady Spencer, who is still here, to show to Mrs.
Thrale ; and, as before, he extended his confidence
to me. It is a very pretty tale, and has in it as
much entertainment as any tale upon so hackneyed
a subject as an assembly of all the gods and god-
desses to bestow their gifts upon mankind, can be
expected to give.

1 Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, 1757-1806, is not included in
Walpole and Park's Royal and Noble Authors. The former speaks, how-
ever (Corr. vi. 217), of the Ode to Hope with faint praise. Mason answered
it. A poem on the Passage of the Mountain of St. Gothard was published
by the Duchess in 1802, and was translated into French, German, and
Italian. She was also credited with the Sylph (p. 418).

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 375

Lord Mulgrave called this morning. He is
returned to Bath for only a few days. He was
not in his usual spirits ; yet he failed not to give
me a rub for my old offence, which he seems deter-
mined not to forget ; for upon something being
said, to which, however, I had not attended, about
seamen, he cast an arch glance at me, and cried
out,

" Oh, Miss Burney, I know, will take our parts
— if I remember right, she is one of the greatest of
our enemies ! "

"All the sea captains," said Mrs. Thrale, "fall
upon Miss Burney : Captain Cotton, my cousin,1
was for ever plaguing her about her spite to the
navy."

This, however, was for the character of Captain
Mirvan, which, in a comical and good-humoured
way, Captain Cotton pretended highly to resent,
and so, he told me, did all the captains in the
navy.2

Augusta Byron, too, tells me that the Admiral,
her father, very often talks of Captain Mirvan,
and though the book is very high in his favour, is
not half pleased with the Captain's being such a
brute.

However, I have this to comfort me, — that the
more I see of sea captains, the less reason I have
to be ashamed of Captain Mirvan ; for they have
all so irresistible a propensity to wanton mischief,
to roasting beaus, and detesting old women, that I
quite rejoice I showed the book to no one ere
printed, lest I should have been prevailed upon to
soften his character.

Some time after, while Lord Mulgrave was
talking of Captain G. Byron's marrying a girl at

1 Mrs. Thrale 's mother's maiden name was Cotton.

2 This, as we have seen, was also the opinion of the Monthly Review
(see ante, p. 28).

376 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

Barbadoes,1 whom he had not known a week, he
turned suddenly to me, and called out,

" See, Miss Burney, what you have to expect ;
— your brother will bring a bride from Kamschatka,
without doubt ! "

"That," said I, "may perhaps be as well as a
Hottentot, for when he was last out, he threatened
us with a sister from the Cape of Good Hope."

In the evening we went to see the Merchant
of Venice, and Augusta was of our party. My
favourite Mr. Lee played Shylock, and played it
incomparably. With the rest of the performers I
was not too much charmed.

Thursday. — Lord Mulgrave and Dr. Harrington
dined here. Lord Mulgrave was delightful ; — his
wit is of so gay, so forcible, so splendid a kind that
when he is disposed to exert it, he not only en-
grosses attention from all the rest of the company,
but demands the full use of all one's faculties to
keep pace in understanding the speeches, allusions,
and sarcasms which he sports. But he will never,
I believe, be tired of attacking me about the sea ;
"he will make me ' eat that leek,' I assure you ! "

During dinner, he was speaking very highly of
a sea officer whose name, I think, was Reynolds.

" And who is he ? " asked Mrs. Thrale ; to which
his Lordship answered, " Brother to Lord — some-
thing, but I forget what " ; and then, laughing and
looking at me, he added, " We have all the great
families in the navy, — ay, and all the best families,
too, — have we not, Miss Burney ? The sea is so
favourable an element to genius, that there all
high-souled younger brothers with empty pockets
are sure of thriving : nay, I can say even more for
it, for it not only fosters the talents of the spirited
younger brothers, it also lightens the dulness even
of that poor animal, — an elder brother ; so that it

1 See ante, p. 347.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 377

is always the most desirable place both for best and
worst."

" Well, your Lordship is always ready to praise
it," said Mrs. Thrale ; " and I only wish we had a
few more like you in the service, — and long may
you live, both to defend and to ornament it ! "

" Defence," answered he with quickness, " it
does not want, — and, for ornament, it is above all ! "

In the evening we had more company, — the
Bishop of Peterborough, Mr. Anstey, Dean of
Ossory, Mrs. and Charlotte Lewis, F. Bowdler,
and Miss Philips, — a lady with whom the beginning
of my acquaintance was by a very strange mistake.

I forget if I ever mentioned to you that Miss
Gregory long since told me that a Mrs. Wilson,
whom I had seen at Mrs. Cholmley's, wished to
know me, and sent me word she should accost me
some day when I was walking on the Parade, if I
should not think her very impudent for her pains.
Well, divers messages, in consequence of this,
passed between us ; and, some time after, as I was
sauntering upon the Parade with Mr. Thrale, a
lady came out of the house in which I knew Mrs.
Wilson resided, and with a smiling face, and a
curtsey, made up to us. I took it for granted this
was my destined acquaintance, whose face, as I was
never near to her, I was too near-sighted to mark.
I readily returned her civility, and myself began a
conversation with her, of the weather, walks, and
so forth, but we were both of us abominably em-
barrassed, and parted rather abruptly ; and while
Mr. Thrale and I were laughing at the encounter,
we saw this lady join Mrs. Thrale, and presently
we all met again. " And so," cried Mrs. Thrale to
her husband, " you did not know Miss Philips ? she
says she made up to you, and you never spoke to
her ! " I now found my mistake, and that she
neither was Mrs. Wilson, nor had intended

378 DIARY AND LETTERS OF nso

addressing me. I was, therefore, quite ashamed of
my own part in the affair, and obliged to clear it
up with all speed.

Miss Philips, however, who is a Welsh lady, and
sister to Lady Milford, has been pleased to make
me her acquaintance ever since. Two days after,
she called, and finding me at home, and alone, sat
with me a full hour, and talked away very sociably
and unreservedly. She presses me to visit and take
morning walks with her ; but the truth is, though
she is sensible and sprightly, she is not much to my
taste, and, therefore, I have evaded availing myself
of her civility as much as has been in my power.

Charlotte Lewis, who is a mighty gay, giddy,
pretty girl, and says whatever comes uppermost,
told me she had heard a very bad account of me
the night before at an assembly.

"A gentleman told me," she continued, "that
you and Mrs. Thrale did nothing but criticise the
play and the players at the Merchant of Venice
the whole night."

For the play, I believe it might defy us ; but
for the players, I confess the case, and am by no
means happy in having been so remarked, for
Charlotte Lewis declared she had heard the same
account since from another gentleman, and from
three ladies, though there was not a face in the
boxes I ever recollected having seen before ; but
Bath is as tittle-tattle a town as Lynn ; and people
make as many reports, and spread as many idle
nothings abroad, as in any common little town in
the kingdom.

Fiiday. — In the morning, I waited upon Miss
Cooper, to return her a letter which she had sent
me to peruse, from Mr. Bruce l to Mr. H. Seaton.

1 James Bruce of Kinnaird, 1730-94, the Abyssinian traveller. His
Travels came out in 1790. He was a frequent visitor to No. 1 St. Martin's
Street.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA 379

It was in his own handwriting, and contained a
curious account of his making a friendship with
an Arab, through the means of being known to a
Mr. Hamilton, by whom this Arab had been kindly
treated when a prisoner in Italy : and, through the
friendship of this man, he enabled himself to pass
on quietly to various places forbidden to strangers,
and to make several of his best drawings, of ruins
shown him by this Arab.

Saturday. — According to appointment, I went
to breakfast at the Bowdlers'. I found all the
Bowdlers, and Miss Leigh.

Harriet Bowdler is much younger than any of
her sisters, but less handsome ; she is sprightly,
good-humoured, and agreeable. I was introduced
to her very quietly by her sister, but soon after,
Mrs. Bowdler finding some fault with the manner
in which she had pinned her ribbons, applied to
me about them. I sided, however, with Harriet,
whose method I preferred.

" Ah ! " cried Mrs. Bowdler, " there spoke the
Evelina — you like that way best because it is
whimsical ! Well, I like a little whim, too ; but
Harriet — oh, she is such an admirer of Evelina ! "

Harriet modestly hung her head ; Fanny, sens-
ibly, frowned ; and so, to my great ease, the matter
went no further. But Mrs. Bowdler has long been
dying to come to the point.

The very amiable Miss Leigh, with whom
indeed I am greatly pleased, told me she had a
favour to request of me, which I gladly promised
to perform d'avance.

"I have a relation here," said she, "Captain
Frodsham, who was made captain by Admiral
Byron, to whom he is under very great obligations.
Now he has heard that Mrs. Byron is quite
incensed with him for not having waited upon
her ; but as he did not know her, he stayed away

380 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

merely from fearing she would think a visit from
him impertinent. Now if you will be so good as
to pave the way for his reception, and make his
apologies, he will be greatly obliged to you, and so
shall I."

This I most readily undertook : and having
stayed prating with them all till twelve o'clock, I
broke away, after a very agreeable breakfast, and
went to Mrs. Cholmley.

I found her at home and quite alone, and I
stayed with her the rest of the morning. I have
never yet been near so well pleased with her. She
is much better in a tete-a-tete than in a mixed
company. Her gentleness, good sense, and the
delicacy of her mind, all show to advantage in
close and intimate conversation ; but in a room
full of company, they are buried in the tumult of
general talk and mere flashy brilliancy. I found
her now " soft without insipidity," as my dear father
said she was, and every way worthy her own most
sweet padre. Not, however, quite, neither, for I
am still far from believing her talents equal to his.
But she is a sweet woman, and I was very happy
in being earnestly pressed by her to visit her in
town.

In the afternoon we all went to the Whalleys',
where we found a large and a highly -dressed
company : at the head of which sat Lady Miller.1
Among the rest were Mr. Anstey, his lady, and
two daughters, Miss Weston, Mrs. Aubrey, the
thin quaker-like woman I saw first at Mrs. Lawes',
Mrs. Lambart, and various others, male and female,
that I knew not.

Miss Weston instantly made up to me, to
express her " delight " at my return to Bath, and

1 Anna, Lady Miller, nte Riggs, 1741-81, of the Batheaston vase (see
post, p. 415). Her husband, John Miller of Ballicasey, had been created
a baronet in 1778.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 381

to beg she might sit by me. Mrs. Whalley, how-
ever, placed me upon a sofa between herself and
Mrs. Aubrey ; which, however, I did not repine
at, for the extreme delicacy of Miss Weston makes
it prodigiously fatiguing to converse with her, as
it is no little difficulty to keep pace with her refine-
ment, in order to avoid shocking her by too obvious
an inferiority in daintihood and ton,

Mr. Whalley, to my great astonishment, so far
broke through his delicacy as to call to me across
the room, to ask me divers questions concerning
my London journey ; during all which, Mr.
Anstey, who sat next to him, earnestly fixed his
eyes in my face, and both then and for the rest of
the evening, examined me with a look of most
keen penetration.

As soon as my discourse was over with Mr.
Whalley (during which, as he called me by my
name, everybody turned towards me, which was
not very agreeable), Lady Miller arose, and went
to Mrs. Thrale, and whispered something to her.
Mrs. Thrale then rose, too, and said,

" If your ladyship will give me leave, I will
first introduce my daughter to you " — making
Miss Thrale, who was next her mother, make
her reverences.

"And now," she continued, "Miss Burney,
Lady Miller desires to be introduced to you."

Up I jumped and walked forward ; Lady Miller,
very civilly more than met me half-way, and said
very polite things, of her wish to know me, and
regret that she had not sooner met me, and then
we both returned to our seats.

Do you know now that, notwithstanding Bath
Easton is so much laughed at in London, nothing
here is more tonish than to visit Lady Miller, who
is extremely curious1 in her company, admitting

1 i.e. select, particular.

382 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

few people who are not of rank or of fame, and ex-
cluding of those all who are not people of character
very unblemished.

Some time after, Lady Miller took a seat next
mine on the sofa, to play at cards, and was ex-
cessively civil indeed — scolded Mrs. Thrale for not
sooner making us acquainted, and had the polite-
ness to offer to take me to the balls herself, as she
heard Mr. and Mrs. Thrale did not choose to go.

After all this, it is hardly fair to tell you
what I think of her. However, the truth is,
I always, to the best of my intentions, speak
honestly what I think of the folks I see, without
being biassed either by their civilities or neglect ;
and that you will allow is being a very faithful
historian.

Well, then, Lady Miller is a round, plump,
coarse-looking dame of about forty, and while all
her aim is to appear an elegant woman of fashion,
all her success is to seem an ordinary woman in
very common life, with fine clothes on. Her
manners are bustling, her air is mock-important,
and her manners very inelegant.

So much for the lady of Bath Easton ; who,
however, seems extremely good-natured, and who
is I am sure extremely civil.

The card -party was soon after broken up, as
Lady Miller was engaged to Lady Dorothy
Inglish, and then I moved to seat myself by
Mrs. Lambart.

I was presently followed by Miss Weston, and
she was pursued by Mr. Bouchier, a man of
fortune who is in the army or the militia, and who
was tormenting Miss Weston, en badinage, about
some expedition upon the river Avon, to which he
had been witness. He seemed a mighty rattling,
harem-scarem gentleman, but talked so fluently
that I had no trouble in contributing my mite

1780 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 383

towards keeping up the conversation, as he talked
enough for four ; and this I was prodigiously
pleased at, as I was in an indolent mood, and not
disposed to bear my share. I fancy, when he
pleases, and thinks it worth while, he can be
sensible and agreeable, but all his desire then, was
to alarm Miss Weston, and persuade the company
she had been guilty of a thousand misdemeanours.

In the midst of this rattle, Mr. Whalley
proposed that Miss Thrale should go downstairs
to hear a Miss Sage play upon the harpsichord.
Miss Sage is a niece of Mrs. Whalley, and about
nine years old. I offered to be of the party.
Miss Weston joined us, as did the Miss Ansteys,
and down we went.

And terribly wearied was I ! she played a
lesson of Giordani's that seemed to have no end,
and repeated all the parts into the bargain ; and
this, with various little English songs, detained us
till we were summoned to the carriage. I had an
opportunity, however, of seeing something of the
Miss Ansteys.

Mr. Anstey, I cannot doubt, must sometimes
be very agreeable ; he could not else have written
so excellent, so diverting, so original a satire.1
But he chooses to keep his talents to himself, or
only to exert them upon very particular occasions.
Yet what he can call particular I know not, for
1 have seen him with Mrs. Montagu, with Mrs.
Thrale, with the Bishop of Peterborough, and
with Lord Mulgrave ; and four more celebrated
folks for their abilities can hardly be found. Yet,
before them all he has been the same as when
I have seen him without any of them — shyly
important, and silently proud !

1 Miss Burney makes Lord Orville and Evelina read this book
together at Mrs. Beaumont's. It could scarcely be chosen as a manual
for a hero and heroine now.

384 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

Well, and there are men who are to be and to
make happy, and there are men who are neither
to make nor be made so !

Ah, how different and how superior our sweet
father ! who never thinks of his authorship and
fame at all, but who is respected for both by
everybody for claiming no respect from anybody ;
and so, Heaven be praised, Dr. Burney and not
Mr. Anstey gave birth to my Susan and to her
F. B.

Bath, June 4. — To go on with Saturday
evening.

We left the Whalleys at nine, and then pro-
ceeded to Sir J. C , who had invited us to a

concert at his house.

We found such a crowd of chairs and carriages
we could hardly make our way. I had never seen
any of the family, consisting of Sir J. and three
daughters, but had been particularly invited. The
two rooms for the company were quite full when
we arrived, and a large party was standing upon
the first -floor landing-place. Just as I got up-
stairs, I was much surprised to hear my name
called by a man's voice who stood in the crowd
upon the landing-place, and who said,

"Miss Burney, better go up another flight
(pointing upstairs) — if you'll take my advice, you'll
go up another flight, for there's no room anywhere
else."

I then recollected the voice, for I could not see
the face, of Lord Mulgrave, and I began at first
to suppose I must really do as he said, for there
seemed not room for a sparrow, and I have heard
the Sharp family do actually send their company
all over their house when they give concerts.
However, by degrees we squeezed ourselves into
the outer room, and then Mrs. Lambart made

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 385

way up to me, to introduce me to Miss C-

who is extremely handsome, genteel, and pleasing,
though tonish, and who did the honours, in spite
of the crowd, in a manner to satisfy everybody.
After that, she herself introduced me to her next
sister, Arabella, who is very fat, but not ugly. As
to Sir J., he was seated behind a door in the
music-room, where, being lame, he was obliged to
keep still, and I never once saw his face, though
I was upon the point of falling over him ; for, at
one time, as I had squeezed just into the music-
room, and was leaning against the door, which
was open, and which Lord Althorpe, the Duchess
of Devonshire's brother, was also lolling against,
the pressure pushed Sir James's chair, and the
door beginning to move, I thought we should
have fallen backwards. Lord Althorpe moved off
instantly, and I started forwards without making
any disturbance, and then Mr. Travell came to
assure me all was safe behind the door, and so
the matter rested quietly, though not without
giving me a ridiculous fright.

Mr. Travell, ma'am, if I have not yet introduced
him to you, I must tell you is known throughout
Bath by the name of Beau Travell ; he is a most
approved connoisseur in beauty, gives the ton to
all the world, sets up young ladies in the beau
monde, and is the sovereign arbitrator of fashions,
and decider of fashionable people. I had never the
honour of being addressed by him before, though
I have met him at the dean's and at Mrs. Lambart's.
So you may believe I was properly struck.

Though the rooms were so crowded, I saw but
two faces I knew — Lord Huntingdon, whom I
have drunk tea with at Mrs. Cholmley's, and Miss
Philips ; but the rest were all showy tonish people,
who are only to be seen by going to the rooms,
which we never do.

vol. i 2 c

386 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

Some time after Lord Mulgrave crowded in
among us, and cried out to me,

" So you would not take my advice ! "

I told him he had really alarmed me, for I had
taken him seriously.

He laughed at the notion of sending me up to
the garrets, and then poked himself into the
concert-room.

Oh, but I forgot to mention Dr. Harrington,
with whom I had much conversation, and who
was dry, comical, and very agreeable. I also saw

Mr. Henry, but as Miss L was not present,

nothing ensued.1

Miss C herself brought me a cup of ice,

the room being so crowded that the man could
not get near me. How ridiculous to invite so
many more people than could be accommodated !

Lord Mulgrave was soon sick of the heat, and
finding me distressed what to do with my cup, he
very good-naturedly took it from me, but carried
not only that, but himself also, away, which I did
not equally rejoice at.

You may laugh, perhaps, that I have all this
time said never a word of the music, but the truth
is I heard scarce a note. There were quartettos
and overtures by gentlemen performers whose
names and faces I know not, and such was the
never-ceasing tattling and noise in the card-room,
where I was kept almost all the evening, that a
general humming of musical sounds, and now and
then a twang, was all I could hear.

Nothing can well be more ridiculous than a
concert of this sort ; and Dr. Harrington told me
that the confusion amongst the musicians was
equal to that amongst the company ; for that,
when called upon to open the concert, they found
no music. The Miss C 's had prepared nothing,

1 See ante, p. 367.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA 387

nor yet solicited their dilettanti to prepare for
them. Miss Harrington, his daughter, who
played upon the harpsichord, and by the very
little I could sometimes hear, I believe very well,
complained that she had never touched so vile
an instrument, and that she was quite disturbed
at being obliged to play upon it.

About the time that I got against the door,
as I have mentioned, of the music -room, the
young ladies were preparing to perform, and with
the assistance of Mr. Henry, they sang catches.
Oh, such singing ! worse squalling, more out of
tune, and more execrable in every respect, never
did I hear. We did not get away till late.

Sunday. — We had an excellent sermon from
the Bishop of Peterborough, who preached merely
at the request of Mrs. Thrale. From the abbey
we went to the pump-room, where we met Mrs.
and Miss Byron, and I gave Captain Frodsham's
message, or rather apologies, to Mrs. Byron, who
in her warm and rapid way told me she thought it
extremely ill-bred that he had not waited upon
her, but consented to receive him if he thought
proper to come, and I undertook to let him know
the same through Miss Leigh.

At the pump-room we also saw the beautiful
Miss Ditcher, Richardson's grand -daughter,1 Mr.
Whalley, etc. But what gave me most pleasure
was meeting with Miss Cooper, and hearing from
her that Mrs. Carter was come to Bath, though
only for that very day, in her way somewhere
farther. I have long languished to see Mrs.
Carter, and I entreated Miss Cooper to present
me to her, which she most readily undertook to
do, and said we should meet her upon the parade. ^
Miss F. Bowdler joined us, and we all walked
away in search of her, but to no purpose; Mrs.

1 See ante, p. 370.

388 DIARY AND LETTERS OF nso

Thrale, therefore, accompanied Miss Cooper to
York House, where she was to repose that night,
purposely to invite her to spend the evening with
us.

[She could not, however, make her promise, but
brought us some hopes.]

At dinner we had the Bishop and Dr. Har-
rington ; and the bishop, who was in very high
spirits, proposed a frolic, which was, that we should
all go to Spring Gardens,1 where he should give
us tea, and thence proceed to Mr. Ferry's, to see
a very curious house and garden. Mrs. Thrale
pleaded that she had invited company to tea at
home, but the bishop said we would go early,
and should return in time, and was so gaily
authoritative that he gained his point. He had
been so long accustomed to command, when
master of Westminster school, that he cannot
prevail with himself, I believe, ever to be over-
come.

Dr. Harrington was engaged to a patient, and
could not be of our party. But the three Thrales,
the bishop, and I, pursued our scheme, crossed the
Avon, had a sweet walk through the meadows,
and drank tea at Spring Gardens, where the bishop
did the honours with a spirit, a gaiety, and an
activity that jovialised us all, and really we were
prodigiously lively. We then walked on to Mr.
Ferry's habitation.

Mr. Ferry is a Bath alderman ; his house and
garden exhibit the house and garden of Mr.
Tattersall,2 enlarged. Just the same taste pre-
vails, the same paltry ornaments, the same crowd
of buildings, the same unmeaning decorations, and

1 These gardens, on the left bank of the Avon, "opposite the Monks'
Mill," were much used for the public entertainments which were part of
the Bath programme. Letter xiii. of Anstey's New Bath Guide is devoted
to a musical breakfast at the Spring Gardens.

2 See ante, p. 66.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 389

the same unsuccessful attempts at making some-
thing of nothing.

They kept us half an hour in the garden, while
they were preparing for our reception in the house,
where after parading through four or five little
vulgarly showy closets, not rooms, we were con-
ducted into a very gaudy little apartment, where
the master of the house sat reclining on his arm,
as if in contemplation, though everything conspired
to show that the house and its inhabitants were
carefully arranged for our reception. The bishop
had sent in his name by way of gaining admission.

The bishop, with a gravity of demeanour
difficult to himself to sustain, apologised for our
intrusion, and returned thanks for seeing the house
and garden. Mr. Ferry started from his pensive
attitude, and begged us to be seated, and then a
curtain was drawn, and we perceived through a
glass a perspective view of ships, boats, and water !
This raree-show over, the maid who officiated as
show- woman had a hint given her, and presently
a trap-door opened, and up jumped a covered table,
ornamented with various devices. When we had
expressed our delight at this long enough to
satisfy Mr. Ferry, another hint was given, and
presently down dropped an eagle from the ceiling,
whose talons were put into a certain hook at the
top of the covering of the table, and when the
admiration at this was over, up again flew the
eagle, conveying in his talons the cover, and leav-
ing under it a repast of cakes, sweetmeats, oranges,
and jellies.

When our raptures upon this feat subsided, the
maid received another signal, and then seated
herself in an arm-chair, which presently sunk down
underground, and up in its room came a barber's
block, with a vast quantity of black wool on it,
and a high head-dress.

390 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

This, you may be sure, was more applauded
than all the rest; we were en eoctase, and having
properly expressed our gratitude, were soon after
suffered to decamp.

You may easily believe that these sights
occasioned us a good merry walk home ; indeed
we laughed all the way, and thought but little
how time went till we were again crossing the
Avon, when we were reminded of it by seeing the
windows full of company.

This was the worst part of the story. Mrs.
Thrale was in horrid confusion, but as the bishop
gave her absolution, her apologies were very good-
naturedly accepted in general. But Mrs. Byron,
half affronted, had decamped before we returned,
and Mr. Travell, the beau, looked very grim at
this breach of etiquette, and made his bow just
after we returned. But what was to me most
vexatious, was finding that Mrs. Carter,1 had been
waiting for us near an hour. The loss of her com-
pany I most sincerely regretted, because it was
irretrievable, as she was to leave Bath next day.

The rest of the party waiting consisted of Miss
Cooper, Misses F. and Harriet Bowdler, Miss
Sharp, who is always with Mrs. Carter, Mrs.
Lambart, and my gentle friend Augusta. The
two latter had been to Spring Gardens in search
of us, where they had drank tea, but we were then
at Mr. Ferry's.

As soon as the general apologies were over,
Miss Cooper, who knew my earnest desire of being
introduced to Mrs. Carter, kindly came up to me,
and taking my hand, led me to her venerable
friend, and told her who I was. Mrs. Carter
arose, and received me with a smiling air of
benevolence that more than answered all my

1 Elizabeth Carter, 1717-1806, the friend of Johnson, and translator
of Epictetus, 1758. She lived at Deal.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 391

expectations of her. She is really a noble-looking
woman ; I never saw age so graceful in the female
sex yet ; her whole face seems to beam with good-
ness, piety, and philanthropy.

She told me she had lately seen some relations
of mine at Mrs. Ord's who had greatly delighted
her by their musical talents — meaning, I found,
Mr. Burney and our Etty ; and she said some-
thing further in their praise, and of the pleasure
they had given her ; but as I was standing in a
large circle, all looking on, and as I kept her
standing, I hardly could understand what she said,
and soon after returned to my seat.

She scarce stayed three minutes longer. When
she had left the room, I could not forbear follow-
ing her to the head of the stairs, on the pretence of
inquiring for her cloak. She then turned round to
me, and looking at me with an air of much kindness,
said, "Miss Burney, I have been greatly obliged
to you long before I have seen you, and must now
thank you for the very great entertainment you
have given me."

This was so unexpected a compliment that I
was too much astonished to make any answer.
However, I am very proud of it from Mrs. Carter,
and I will not fail to seek another meeting with
her when I return to town, — which I shall be /7s
able enough to do by means of Miss Cooper, or
Miss Ord, or Mrs. Pepys.

You are, indeed, a most good and sweet girl for
writing so copiously, and you oblige and indulge
me more than I can express.

Well, after I had read your letter, I went to the
Belvidere, and made Mr. Thrale accompany me by
way of exercise, for the Belvidere is near a mile
from our house, and all up hill.

Mrs. Leigh and her fair daughter received me

392 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1780

with their usual kindness, which, indeed, is quite
affectionate, and I found with them Miss Harriet
Bowdler and Captain Frodsham. I negotiated
matters with all the address in my power, and
softened Mrs. Byron's haughty permission into a
very civil invitation, which I hoped would occasion
an agreeable meeting. Captain Frodsham is a
very sensible, well-bred, and pleasing young man :
he returned me many thanks for my interference,
and said he would wait upon Mrs. Byron very
speedily.

We made a long visit here, as the people were
mighty likeable, and then Miss Harriet Bowdler,
Miss Leigh, and Captain Frodsham accompanied
us to the parade, i.e. home.

In the evening we all went to Mrs. Cholmley's,
where we met Mrs. Poyntz, and were, as usual
at that house, sociable, cheerful, and easy.

Tuesday. — This morning, by appointment, we
met a party at the pump-room, thence to proceed
to Spring Gardens, to a public breakfast.1 The
folks, however, were not to their time, and we
sallied forth only with the addition of Miss Weston
and Miss Byron.

As soon as we entered the gardens, Augusta,
who had hold of my arm, called out, " Ah ! there's
the man I danced with at the ball ! and he plagued
me to death, asking me if I liked this, and that,
and the other, and, when I said ' No,' he asked me
what I did like ? So, I suppose he thought me a
fool, and so, indeed, I am ! only you are so good
to me that I wrote my sister Sophy word you had
almost made me quite vain ; and she wrote to me
t'other day a private letter, and told me how glad
she was you were come back, for, indeed, I had
written her word I should be quite sick of my life
here, if it was not for sometimes seeing you."

1 See ante, p. 388.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 393

The gentleman to whom she pointed presently
made up to us, and I found he was Captain
Bouchier, the same who had rattled away at Mr.
Whalley's. He instantly joined Miss Weston and
consequently our party, and was in the same style
of flighty raillery as before. He seems to have a
very good understanding, and very quick parts, but
he is rather too conscious of both : however, he was
really very entertaining, and as he abided wholly
by Miss Weston, whose delicacy gave way to
gaiety and flash, whether she would or not, I was
very glad that he made one among us.

The rest of the company soon came, and were
Mr. and Mrs. Whalley, Mrs. Lambart, Mrs.
Aubrey, Colonel Campbell, an old officer and old
acquaintance of Mr. Thrale, and some others, both
male and female, whose names I know not.

We all sat in one box, but we had three tea-
makers. Miss Weston presided at that table to
which I belonged, and Augusta, Captain Bouchier,
and herself were of our set. And gay enough we
were, for the careless rattle of Captain Bouchier,
which paid no regard to the daintiness of Miss
Weston, made her obliged, in her own defence, to
abate her finery, and laugh, and rally, and rail, in
her turn. But, at last, I really began to fear that
this flighty officer would bring on a serious quarrel,
for, among other subjects he was sporting, he,
unfortunately, started that of the Bath Easton
Vase, which he ridiculed without mercy, and yet,
according to all I have heard of it, without any
injustice ; but Mrs. Whalley, who overheard him,
was quite irritated with him. Sir John and Lady
Miller are her friends, and she thought it incum-
bent upon her to vindicate even this vain folly,
which she did weakly and warmly, while Captain
Bouchier only laughed and ridiculed them the
more. Mrs. Whalley then coloured, and grew quite

394 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

enraged, reasoning upon the wickedness of laugh-
ing at her good friends, and talking of generosity
and sentiment. Meanwhile, he scampered from
side to side, to avoid her ; laughed, shouted, and
tried every way of braving it out ; but was com-
pelled at last to be serious, and enter into a solemn
defence of his intentions, which were, he said, to
ridicule the vase, not the Millers.

In the evening we went to Mrs. Lambart's ;
but of that visit, in which I made a very extra-
ordinary new acquaintance, in my next packet ;
for this will not hold the account.

Wednesday. — To go on with Mrs. Lambart.
The party was Mr. and Mrs. Vanbrugh — the
former a good sort of man — the latter, Captain
Bouchier says, reckons herself a woman of humour,
but she kept it prodigious snug ; Lord Hunting-
don, a very deaf old lord ; Sir Robert Pigot, a very
thin old baronet ; Mr. Tyson, a very civil master
of the ceremonies ; Mr. and Mrs. White, a very

insignificant couple ; Sir James C , a bawling

old man ; two Misses C , a pair of tonish

misses ; Mrs. and Miss Byron ; Miss W , and

certain others I knew nothing of.

Augusta Byron, according to custom, had
entered into conversation with me, and we were
talking about her sisters, and her affairs, when

Mr. E (whose name I forgot to mention),

came to inform me that Mrs. Lambart begged
to speak to me. She was upon a sofa with

Miss W , who, it seemed, desired much to

be introduced to me, and so I took a chair facing
them.

Miss W is young and pleasing in her

appearance, not pretty, but agreeable in her face,
and soft, gentle, and well-bred in her manners.
Our conversation, for some time, was upon the
common Bath topics ; but when Mrs. Lambart

1780 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 395

left us — called to receive more company — we went
insensibly into graver matters.

As I soon found, by the looks and expressions
of this young lady, that she was of a peculiar cast,
I left all choice of subjects to herself, determined
quietly to follow as she led ; and very soon, and I
am sure I know not how, we had for topics the
follies and vices of mankind, and, indeed, she spared
not for lashing them. The women she rather
excused than defended, laying to the door of the
men their faults and imperfections ; but the men,
she said, were all bad — all, in one word, and with-
out exception, sensualists !

I stared much at a severity of speech for which
her softness of manner had so ill-prepared me ; and
she, perceiving my surprise, said,

" I am sure I ought to apologise for speaking
my opinion to you — you, who have so just and so
uncommon a knowledge of human nature. I have
long wished ardently to have the honour of con-
versing with you ; but your party has, altogether,
been regarded as so formidable, that I have not had
courage to approach it."

I made — as what could I do else ? — disqualifying
speeches, and she then led to discoursing of happi-
ness and misery : the latter she held to be the
invariable lot of us all ; and " one word," she added,
" we have in our language, and in all others, for
which there is never any essential necessity, and
that is— pleasure ! " And her eyes filled with tears
as she spoke.

" How you amaze me ! " cried I ; " I have met
with misanthropes before, but never with so com-
plete a one ; and I can hardly think I hear right
when I see how young you are."

She then, in rather indirect terms, gave me to
understand that she was miserable at home, and in
very direct terms, that she was wretched abroad ;

396 DIARY AND LETTERS OF i7so

and openly said, that to affliction she was born,
and in affliction she must die, for that the world
was so vilely formed as to render happiness impos-
sible for its inhabitants.

There was something in this freedom of repining
that I could by no means approve, and, as I found
by all her manner that she had a disposition to
even respect whatever I said, I now grew very
serious, and frankly told her that I could not think
it consistent with either truth or religion to cherish
such notions.

" One thing," answered she, " there is, which I
believe might make me happy, but for that I have
no inclination : it is an amorous disposition ; but
that I do not possess. I can make myself no
happiness by intrigue."

" I hope not, indeed ! " cried I, almost confounded
by her extraordinary notions and speeches ; "but,
surely, there are worthier subjects of happiness
attainable ! "

" No, I believe there are not, and the reason the
men are happier than us, is because they are more
sensual ! "

" I would not think such thoughts," cried I,
clasping my hands with an involuntary vehemence,
" for worlds ! "

The Misses C then interrupted us, and

seated themselves next to us ; but Miss W

paid them little attention at first, and soon after
none at all ; but, in a low voice, continued her dis-
course with me, recurring to the same subject of
happiness and misery, upon which, after again
asserting the folly of ever hoping for the former,
she made this speech,

" There may be, indeed, one moment of happi-
ness, which must be the finding one worthy of
exciting a passion which one should dare own to
himself. That would, indeed be a moment worth

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 397

living for ! but that can never happen — I am sure,
not to me — the men are so low, so vicious, so
worthless ! No, there is not one such to be
found ! "

What a strange girl ! I could do little more
than listen to her, from surprise at all she said.

" If, however," she continued, " I had your
talents I could, bad as this world is, be happy in it.
There is nothing, there is nobody I envy like you.
With such resources as yours there can never be
ennui ; the mind may always be employed, and
always be gay ! Oh, if I could write as you
write ! "

" Try,"cried I, " that is all that is wanting : try,
and you will soon do much better things ! "

" Oh no ! I have tried, but I cannot succeed."

" Perhaps you are too diffident. But is it pos-
sible you can be serious in so dreadful an assertion
as that you are never happy ? Are you sure that
some real misfortune would not show you that your
present misery is imaginary ? "

"I don't know," answered she, looking down,
" perhaps it is so, — but in that case 'tis a misery so
much the harder to be cured."

" You surprise me more and more," cried I ; "is
it possible you can so rationally see the disease of
a disordered imagination, and yet allow it such
power over your mind ? "

"Yes, for it is the only source from which I
draw any shadow of felicity. Sometimes when in
the country, I give way to my imagination for
whole days, and then I forget the world and its
cares, and feel some enjoyment of existence."

" Tell me what is then your notion of felicity ?
Whither does your castle-building carry you ? "

" Oh, quite out of the world — 1 know not where,
but I am surrounded with sylphs, and I forget
everything besides."

398 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

" Well, you are a most extraordinary character,
indeed ; I must confess I have seen nothing like
you!

" I hope, however, I shall find something like
myself, and, like the magnet rolling in the dust,
attract some metal as I go."

" That you may attract what you please, is of all
things the most likely ; but if you wait to be happy
for a friend resembling yourself, I shall no longer
wonder at your despondency."

" Oh ! " cried she, raising her eyes in ecstasy,
" could I find such a one ! — male or female — for sex
would be indifferent to me. With such a one I
would go to live directly."

1 half laughed, but was perplexed in my own
mind whether to be sad or merry at such a speech.

" But then," she continued, " after making,
should I lose such a friend, I would not survive."

"Not survive ? " repeated I, " what can you
mean ?

She looked down, but said nothing.

" Surely you cannot mean," said I, very gravely
indeed, " to put a violent end to your life ? "

" I should not," said she, again looking up,
"hesitate a moment."

I was quite thunderstruck, and for some time
could not say a word ; but when I did speak, it was
in a style of exhortation so serious and earnest, I
am ashamed to write it to you, lest you should
think it too much.

She gave me an attention that was even respect-
ful, but when I urged her to tell me by what right
she thought herself entitled to rush unlicensed on
eternity, she said, "By the right of believing I
shall be extinct."

I really felt horror-struck.

" Where, for Heaven's sake," I cried, " where
have you picked up such dreadful reasoning ? "

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 399

" In Hume," said she ; " I have read his Essays
repeatedly."

" I am sorry to find they have power to do so
much mischief. You should not have read them,
at least till a man equal to Hume in abilities had
answered him. Have you read any more infidel
writers ? "

"Yes, Bolingbroke, the divinest of all writers."

"And do you read nothing upon the right
side?"

" Yes, the Bible, till I was sick to death of it,
every Sunday evening to my mother."

" Have you read Beattie on the Immutability of
Truth."1

"No."

" Give me leave then to recommend it to you.
After Hume's Essays you ought to read it. And
even for lighter reading, if you were to look at
Mason's ' Elegy on Lady Coventry,' it might be of
no disservice to you."

And then I could not forbear repeating to her
from that beautiful poem,

" Yet, know, vain sceptics, know, th' Almighty Mind
Who breath' d on man a portion of His fire,
Bade his free soul, by earth nor time confin'd,
To Heaven, to immortality, aspire !

" Nor shall the pile of hope, His mercy rear'd,
By vain philosophy be e'er destroy'd ;
Eternity — by all, or wish'd, or fear'd,

Shall be by all, or suffer'd, or enjoy'd ! " 2

This was the chief of our conversation, which
indeed made an impression upon me I shall not
easily get rid of. A young and agreeable infidel

1 Beattie's *' Essay on the Nature and Immutability of Truth " was
published in 1770 as an antidote to the philosophy of Hume.

2 These are the final lines of Mason's " Elegy on the Death of a Lady "
(Maria Gunning, Countess of Coventry, d. 1760, in which year the Elegy
was written).

400 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

is even a shocking sight, and with her romantic,
flighty, and unguarded turn of mind, what could
happen to her that could give surprise ?

Poor misguided girl ! I heartily indeed wish
she was in good hands. She is in a very dangerous
situation, with ideas so loose of religion, and so
enthusiastic of love. What, indeed, is there to
restrain an infidel, who has no belief in a future
state, from sin and evil of any sort ?

[Before we left Mrs. Lambart, Mrs. Byron took
me aside to beg I would go and make her peace
with Captain Frodsham. Droll enough to have
the tables so turned. She feared, she said, that she
had offended him by certain unfortunate reflections
she had inadvertently cast upon some officers to
whom he was related. The particulars would but
tire you ; but I readily undertook the commission,
and assured her I was certain such condescension
on her part would make the captain all her own.

Augusta, with her usual sweetness, lamented

seeing so little of me, as Miss W had occupied

me solely ; but said she did not wonder, and had
no right to complain, as she wished to do the same.
She is, indeed, quite romantic in her partiality.

Thursday. — In the morning I walked to the
Belvidere, to execute my commission. Captain
Frodsham I met at Mrs. Leigh's, and began my
treaty of peace, but soon found he had taken no
offence, but, on the contrary, had been much
charmed with Mrs. Byron's conversation and viva-
city. I had therefore soon done, and having spent
an hour with them very agreeably, I proceeded to
Mrs. Byron, to tell her the success of the negotia-
tion. Augusta walked back with me, but on the

South Parade we met Miss C , who joined me,

and then the bashful Augusta would not go another
step, but hastily shook my hand and ran away.

At night, however, we met again, as we had a

1780 THE AUTHOR OF • EVELINA' 401

party at home, consisting of the Byrons, Dean of
Ossory, Mrs. and Charlotte Lewis, Mrs. Lambart,
and Dr. Finch.

Dr. Finch is a tall, large, rather handsome,
smiling, and self-complacent clergyman. He talked
very much of an old lady here aged ninety, who
was very agreeable, and upon inquiry I found she
was Mrs. Ord's mother, Mrs. Dellingham. I could
not forbear wishing to see her, and then Dr. Finch,
who lodges in the same house with her, was very
pressing to introduce me to her. I could not agree
to so abrupt an intrusion, but I did not object to
his making overtures for such a meeting, as my
affection and respect for Mrs. Ord made me
extremely wish to see her mother.

Friday. — Early this morning I received my
Susan's second packet of this second Bath journey.
The remaining account of the miserere concert is
very entertaining, and Rauzzini's badinage diverted
me much.

I have nobody to tell you of here that you care
a fig for, but not caring, you may sometimes have
a chance of being diverted, — so on I go.

This morning, by appointment, I was to break-
fast with Miss Leigh. Just as I came to the
pump-room, I met Mr. and Mrs. Cholmley. The
latter shook hands with me, and said she should
leave Bath in a day or two. I was very sorry for
it, as she is a real loss to me. On, then, I posted,
and presently before me I perceived Lord Mul-
grave. As I was rather hurried, I meant to take
an adroit turn to pass him, but he was in a frisky
humour, and danced before me from side to side to
stop me, saying, " Why where now, where are you
posting so fast ? "

I then halted, and we talked a little talk of
the Thrales, of the weather, etc., and then finding
he was at his old trick of standing still before me,

vol. i 2d

402 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

without seeming to have any intention we should
separate, though I did not find he had anything
more to say, I rather abruptly wished him good-
morning and whisked off.

I had, however, only gone another street ere I
again encountered him, and then we both laughed,
and he walked on with me. He himself lives at
the Belvidere, and very good-humouredly made my
pace his, and chatted with me all the way, till 1
stopped at Mrs. Leigh's. Our confabulation how-
ever was all about Bath matters and people, and,
therefore, will not bear writing, though I assure you
it was pretty enough, and of half a mile's length.

[At the Leighs' I found Harriet Bowdler, and
passed the morning very comfortably.]

In the evening was the last ball expected to be
at Bath this season, and, therefore, knowing we
could go to no other, it was settled we should
go to this. Of our party were Mrs. Byron and
Augusta, Miss Philips, and Charlotte Lewis.

Mrs. Byron was placed at the upper end of the
room by Mr. Tyson, because she is honourable,
and her daughter next to her ; I, of course, the
lowest of our party ; but the moment Mr. Tyson
had arranged us, Augusta arose, and nothing
would satisfy her but taking a seat not only next
to but below me ; nor could I, for my life, get the
better of the affectionate humility with which she
quite supplicated me to be content. She was soon
after followed by Captain Brisbane, a young officer,
who had met her in Spring Gardens, and seemed
much struck with her, and was now presented to
her by Mr. Tyson for her partner.

Captain Brisbane is a very pretty sort of young
man, but did not much enliven us. Soon after 1
perceived Captain Bouchier, who, after talking
some time with Mrs. Thrale, and various parties,
made up to us, and upon Augusta's being called

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 403

upon to dance a minuet, took her place, and began
a very lively sort of chit-chat.

[I had, however, no small difficulty to keep him
from abusing my friend Augusta. He had once
danced with her, and their commerce had not been
much to her advantage. I defended her upon the
score of her amiable simplicity and unaffected
ingenuousness, but I could not have the courage
to contradict him when he said he had no notion
she was very brilliant by the conversation he had
with her. Augusta, indeed, is nothing less than
brilliant, but she is natural, artless, and very
affectionate.]

Just before she went to dance her minuet, upon
my admiring her bouquet, which was the most
beautiful in the room, she tore from it the only
two moss-roses in it, and so spoilt it all before her
exhibition, merely that I might have the best of it.

Country dances were now preparing, and
Captain Bouchier asked me for the honour of my
hand, but I had previously resolved not to dance,
and, therefore, declined his offer. But he took, of
the sudden, a fancy to prate with me, and therefore
budged not after the refusal.

He told me this was the worst ball for company
there had been the whole season ; and, with a
wicked laugh that was too significant to be mis-
understood, said, "And, as you have been to no
other, perhaps you will give this for a specimen of
a Bath ball ! "

He told me he had very lately met with Hannah
More, and then mentioned Mrs. Montagu and Mrs.
Carter, whence he took occasion to say most high
and fine things of the ladies of the present age, —
their writings, and talents ; and I soon found he
had no small reverence for us blue-stockings.

About this time, Charlotte,1 who had confessedly

1 Charlotte Lewis. See ante, p. 339.

404 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

dressed herself for dancing, but whose pretty face
had by some means been overlooked, drawled
towards us, and asked me why I would not
dance ?

" I never intended it," said I ; " but I hoped to
have seen you."

" No," said she, yawning, " no more shall I, — I
don't choose it."

"Don't you?" said Captain Bouchier drily,
" why not ? "

" Why, because I don't like it."

" Oh fie ! " cried he ; " consider how cruel that

IS.

" I must consider myself," said she pertly ; " for
I don't choose to heat myself this hot weather."

Just then, a young man came forward, and
requested her hand. She coloured, looked ex-
cessively silly, and walked off with him to join
the dancers.

When, between the dances, she came our way,
he plagued her, a la Sir Clement.1

" Well," cried he, " so you have been dancing
this hot night ! I thought you would have con-
sidered yourself better ? "

" Oh," said she, " I could not help it — I had
much rather not ; — it was quite disagreeable to
me.

" No, no, — pardon me there ! " said he malici-
ously ; "I saw pleasure dance first in your eyes ;
I never saw you look more delighted : you were
quite the queen of smiles ! "

She looked as if she could have killed him ;
and yet, from giddiness and good-humour, was
compelled to join in the laugh.

After this we went to tea. When that was
over, and we all returned to the ball-room, Captain
Bouchier followed me, and again took a seat next

1 Cf. Evelina, Letter xiii.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 405

mine, which he kept, without once moving, the
whole night.

[He again applied to me to dance, but I was
more steady than Charlotte ; and he was called
upon, and reproached by Captain Brisbane and
others for sitting still when there were so few
dancers ; but he told them he could not endure
being pressed into the service, or serving at all
under the master of the ceremonies.

Well, I have no more time for particulars,
though we had much more converse ; for so it
happened that we talked all the evening almost
together, as Mrs. Thrale and Mrs. Byron were
engaged with each other : Miss Thrale, who did
not dance, was fairly jockeyed out of her place
next me by Captain Bouchier, and the other
young ladies were with their partners.]

Before we broke up, this Captain asked me if I
should be at the play next night ? — " Yes," I could
not but say, as we had had places taken some
time ; but I did not half like it, for his manner
of asking plainly implied, "If you go, why /
will ! "

When we made our exit, he saw me safe out of
the rooms, with as much attention as if we had
actually been partners. As we were near home
we did not get into chairs ; and Mr. Travell joined
us in our walk.

"Why, what a flirtation!" cried Mrs. Thrale;
" why, Burney, this is a man of taste ! — Pray, Mr.
Travell, will it do ? What has he ? "

"Twenty thousand pounds, ma'am," answered
the beau.

" Oh ho ! has he so ?— Well, well, we'll think
of it."

Finding her so facetious, I determined not to
acquaint her with the query concerning the play,
knowing that, if I did, and he appeared there, she

406 DIARY AND LETTERS mo

would be outrageous in merriment. She is a most
dear creature, but never restrains her tongue in
anything, nor, indeed, any of her feelings : — she
laughs, cries, scolds, sports, reasons, makes fun, —
does everything she has an inclination to do,
without any study of prudence, or thought of
blame ; and, pure and artless as is this character,
it often draws both herself and others into scrapes,
which a little discretion would avoid.

PART IX
1780

Bath diary resumed — A dinner-party — Raillery — Flirtation —
The Bath theatre — Bath actors — The Abbey Church —
Garrick and Quin — Morning calls — Curiosity — The Dean
of Ossory — Beau Travell — Family quarrels — An oddity —
Bath Easton — Female admiration — Miss Bowdler — A female
sceptic — A baby critic — Lord George Gordon — The No-
Popery riots — Danger of Mr. Thrale from the riots —
Precipitate retreat — Letters from Miss Burney — Public
excitement — Riots at Bath — Salisbury — Mr. Thrale' s house
attacked — Letters from Dr. Burney and Mrs. Thrale —
Description of the riots — Brighton society — Conclusion of
the riots — Letters from Miss Burney — Pacchierotti — A
dinner-party at Dr. Burney 's — Lord Sandwich — Captain
Cook's Journal — Letter from Mrs. Thrale — Brighton society
— Grub Street — Miss Burney to Mrs. Thrale — Dangerous
times — A dinner-party at Dr. Burney' s — A visit to Dr.
Johnson — Miss Burney and Dr. Johnson in Grub Street —
Son of Edmund Burke — A female rattle — Johnson's Lives
of the Poets — Streatham diary resumed — Brighton — Lady
Hesketh — Lady Shelley — A juvenile musician — Dangerous
illness of Mr. Thrale — Dr. Johnson and Mr. Murphy — Lady
Ladd — Letters — Sheridan's Critic — Evelina in the Bodleian
Library — Promotion — Chit-chat.

Bath Diary resumed

June, — I feel myself inclined, my dearest Susy, to
do nothing now but write to you ; and so many
packets do I owe you, that le devoir here joins
Tinclination.

I left off with Friday's ball.

407

408 DIARY AND LETTERS OF i7so

Saturday morning I spent in visiting. [When I
took leave of the Cholmleys, called on the Lewis's,
Kynaston, Weston, Whalley, Mrs. Lambart, and
the Bowdlers.]

At dinner we had Mrs. Lambart and Colonel
Campbell. All the discourse was upon Augusta
Byron's having made a conquest of Captain
Brisbane, and the match was soon concluded upon,
— at least, they all allowed it would be decided
this night, when she was to go with us to the
play ; and if Captain Brisbane was there, why then
he was in for it, and the thing was done.

Well — Augusta came at the usual time ;
Colonel Campbell took leave, but Mrs. Lambart
accompanied us to the play : and, in the lobby,
the first object we saw was Captain Brisbane. He
immediately advanced to us, and, joining our party,
followed us to our box.

Nothing could equal the wickedness of Mrs.
Thrale and Mrs. Lambart ; they smiled at each
other with such significance ! Fortunately, how-
ever, Augusta did not observe them.

Well, we took our seats, and Captain Brisbane,
by getting into the next box, on a line with ours,
placed himself next to Augusta : but, hardly had
Mrs. T. and L. composed their faces, ere I heard
the box-door open. Every one looked round but
me, and I had reasons for avoiding such curiosity,
— reasons well enough founded, for instantly grins,
broader than before, widened the mouths of the
two married ladies, while even Miss Thrale began
a titter that half choked her, and Augusta, nodding
to me with an arch smirk, said, " Miss Burney, I
wish you joy !"

To be sure I could have no doubt who entered,
but, very innocently, I demanded of them all the
cause of their mirth. They scrupled not explain-
ing themselves ; and I found my caution, in not

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 409

mentioning the query that had been put to me,
availed me nothing, for the Captain was already a
marked man in my service !

He placed himself exactly behind me, but very
quietly and silently, and did not, for some minutes,
speak to me ; afterwards, however, he did a little,
— except when my favourite, Mr. Lee, who acted
Old Norval, in Douglas,1 was on the stage, and
then he was strictly silent. I am in no cue to
write our discourse ; but it was pleasant and
entertaining enough at the time, and his observa-
tions upon the play and the players were lively
and comical. But I was prodigiously worried by
my own party, who took every opportunity to
inquire how I was entertained, and so forth, — and
to snigger.

Two young ladies, who seemed about eighteen,
and sat above us, were so much shocked by the
death of Douglas, that they both burst into a
loud fit of roaring, like little children, — and sobbed
on, afterwards, for almost half the farce ! I was
quite astonished; and Miss Weston complained
that they really disturbed her sorrows ; but Captain
Bouchier was highly diverted, and went to give
them comfort, as if they had been babies, telling
them it was all over, and that they need not cry
any more.

Sunday, — In the morning, after church-time, I
spent an hour or two in looking over the abbey-
church, and reading epitaphs, — among which,
Garrick's on Quin was much the best.2 [There is
a monument erected, also, for Sarah Fielding, who
wrote David Simple, by Dr. Hoadley.]

Will any future doctor do as much for me ?]

In the afternoon, I called upon the Leighs, to
take leave, as they were going from Bath next

1 A tragedy by John Home, 1722-1808. It was first produced at
Edinburgh in*1756. 2 See ante, p. 63 n.

410 DIARY AND LE TTERS OF uso

day. [Mrs. Leigh was out, but her daughter kept
me to the last minute another engagement would
allow, and then took quite a kind and friendly
farewell. She is really so sensible, so well-bred,
and so engaging, that I shall always be very happy
to meet with her. I gave her our direction and
she promised to make use of it.

From her] I went to Mrs. Byron's, where the
Thrales were already, and a large party : Lord
Mulgrave, Mrs. Vanbrugh, Mrs. Lambart, Captains
Brisbane and Frodsham, Beau Travell, Mr. Tyson,
the Hon. Mr. Wyndham, brother to Lord Egre-
mont, and Mr. Chad wick.

[Though the party was so good, I have not a
word to write concerning it, for I only conversed
with Augusta and, on her account, Captain
Brisbane ; and though she is a very sweet girl,
she is not, as Captain Bouchier said, very brilliant,
and therefore I should not dazzle you with much
wit in recording our speeches.

Monday, — At breakfast, Mrs. Thrale said, " Ah,
you never tell me your love-secrets, but I could
tell you one if I chose it ! " This produced en-
treaties— and entreaties thus much further —

" Why, I know very well who is in love with
Fanny Burney ! "

I told her that was more than I did, but
owned it was not difficult to me to guess who she
meant, though I could not tell what.

" Captain Bouchier," said she. " But you did
not tell me so, nor he either ; I had it from Mr.
Tyson, our master of the ceremonies, who told me
you made a conquest of him at the ball ; and he
knows these matters pretty well ; 'tis his trade to
know them."

" Well-a-day ! " quoth I, " 'tis unlucky we did
not meet a little sooner, for this very day he is
ordered away with his troop into Norfolk."

1780 THE AUTH/'JR OF < EVELINA' 411

After breakfast, Fanny Bowdler called upon
me, and we were tete-a-tete all the morning. She
is an extraordinary good tete-a-tete, and I did not
think her the less agreeable, I suppose, for telling
me that Mrs. Carter has condescended to speak of
me in very flattering terms since our meeting.

She told me also that Miss Leigh is soon to be
married to Captain Frodsham. I am very glad of
it, as they seem very deserving of each other,
and will make a most agreeable and sensible
pair.]

In the evening we were at the Vanbrughs',

where we met Mr., Mrs., and Miss G , all

three mighty tonish folks : the Mr. in a common
and heavy way, the Mrs. in an insolent, overbear-
ing way, and the Miss in a shy, proud, stiff way.
Also the good-humoured Dr. Maningham, and
Mrs. and Miss ditto, of no characters apparent ;
Miss Jones, an ugly, sensible, reserved woman ;
her father — I know not what ; Mr. Tom Pitt,
a prosing, conceited man of fashion, and sense to
boot ; Mrs. Lambart, Mrs. Byron, and some others
I know not.

All the early part of the evening Miss Thrale
and I sat together ; but afterwards Mrs. Thrale,
who was at another part of the room, called me
over, and said,

"Come, Miss Burney, come and tell Mrs.
Lambart about these green rails at Clifton."

And so saying, she gave me her seat, which
was between Mrs. Lambart and Mrs. Byron, and
walked away to other folks.

I found they had all been laughing about some
house upon Clifton Hill with green rails, which
Mrs. Lambart vowed was Mrs. Beaumont's,1 and
said she was sure I must have meant it should

1 Mrs. Beaumont is a character in Evelina, whose house was on Clifton
Hill.

412 DIARY AND LETTERS OF i7so

seem such : and a sportively complimentary con-
versation took place, and lasted till Mrs. G ,

having cut out at cards, with an air of tonish
stateliness approached us, and seating herself by
Mrs. Lambart, and nearly opposite to me, fixed
her eyes on my face, and examined it with a
superb dignity of assurance that made me hardly
know what I said, in my answers to Mrs. Lambart
and Mrs. Byron.

Having looked in silence till she was tired, in
which I must own I felt some sympathy, she
whispered Mrs. Lambart,

" Is that Miss Burney ?"

" Yes," re- whispered Mrs. Lambart ; " shall I
introduce her to you ? "

" No, no," answered she, " I can do that well
enough."

This, though all in very low voices, I was too
near not to hear ; and I began to feel monstrous
glumpy upon this last speech, which indeed was
impertinent enough.

Soon after, this high lady said,

" Were you ever in Bath before, Miss Burney ? "

" Yes, ma'am," I replied, very drily ; and to
show how little I should stoop the lower for her
airs, I instantly went on talking with Mrs. Byron,
without allowing her an opportunity for the
conference she seemed opening. Characters of
this sort always make me as proud as they are
themselves ; while the avidity with which Mrs.
Byron honours, and the kindness with which Mrs.
Thrale delights me, make me ready to kiss even the
dust that falls from their feet.

Having now, therefore, reanimated my courage,
I took a fit of talking, and made my own part
good, and then I less minded her busy eyes, which
never a moment spared me.

This lasted till Mrs. Thrale again joined us,

1780 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 413

and sat down next to Mrs. G , who, in a few

minutes, said to her in a whisper,

"She is just what I have heard — I like her
vastly."

This quite amazed me, for her whisper was
unavoidably heard by me, as we all sat cheek by
jowl ; and presently she repeated with yet more
earnestness,

" I like her of all things."

" Yes, she is a sweet creature indeed," answered
my dear puffer, " and I am sure I love her dearly."

Afterwards, she asked Mrs. Thrale a hundred
questions concerning Dr. Johnson, with an air and
an abruptness that provoked her so she could
hardly answer her ; and when Mrs. Lambart again

hinted at the green rails, Mrs. G , looking at

me with a smile the softest she could assume,
said,

" I am a great admirer of Evelina — I think it
has very great merit."

And I daresay she thought the praise of Dr.
Johnson had never been half so flattering to me.

Tuesday evening we spent at the Dean of
Ossory's. We met no company there but Dr.
Finch, who appointed the next morning for pre-
senting me to Mrs. Dellingham.1 {N.B. I hope
I have mentioned this doctor is married, otherwise
you may be justly and cruelly alarmed for my
reputation.)

[All my afternoon was devoted to Charlotte

L , whose wild, giddy nonsense entertained me

passing well.

O Heavens ! I forgot that Beau Travell was
there ! and just before we went, he came up to
Charlotte and me, to upbraid us for talking only
to each other, and then he said,

" I am sorry, Miss Burney, that your friend

1 Mrs. Orel's mother. See ante, p. 188.

414 DIARY AND LETTERS OF i78o

Captain Bouchier is gone; he is ordered directly
into Norfolk."

Our friendship, I told him, was quite long
enough of duration to make us vastly afflicted that
it was broken up.]

Wednesday. — Dr. Finch called in the morning,
and escorted me to Mrs. Dellingham's.

Mrs. Dellingham is said to be ninety and more ;
I, therefore, expected to walk up to her easy chair
and bawl out in her ear, " Ma'am, your servant";
but no such thing happened ; to my great surprise,
she met me at the door of the drawing-room, took
my hand, welcomed me very politely, and led me
to the best seat at the upper end of the room.
She is a very venerable and cheerful old gentle-
woman, walks well, hears readily, is almost quite
upright, and very chatty and well bred.

My discourse, as you may imagine, was all of
Mrs. Ord ; but Dr. Finch took care it should not
be much, as he is one of those placid prosers who
are never a moment silent.

As soon as I had returned home, Charlotte

L 1 called, and the little gig2 told all the

quarrels and all les malheurs of the domestic life
she led in her family, and made them all ridiculous,
without meaning to make herself so.

She was but just gone, when I was again called
down to Miss Weston — nobody else at home :
and then I was regaled with a character equally
ludicrous, but much less entertaining, for nothing
would she talk of but " dear nature," and nothing
abuse but " odious affectation ! " She really would
be too bad for the stage, for she is never so con-
tent as when drawing her own character for other
people's as if on purpose to make one sick of it.

1 Lewis.

2 A flighty person. Davies's Supplementary Glossary, 1881, gives Miss
Burney as authority for this word.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 415

She begged, however, for my town direction, and
talked in high strains of the pleasure she should
have in visiting me. But in London we can
manage those matters better. She was to leave
Bath next day.

Mrs. Whalley also called pour prendre conge,
and made much invitation to her country seat
for us.

In the evening, we all went to Mrs. Lambart's,
where we met the Grenvilles, Byrons, Vanbrughs,
Captain Brisbane, Messrs. Chadwicke, Travell, and
Wyndham, Miss Philips, Lady Dorothy Inglish,
Lord Cunningham, and various others. But I have
no time for particulars, and, as I shall, perhaps, see
few of them any more, no inclination.

Thursday, June 8. — We went to Bath Easton.
Mrs. Lambart went with us.

The house is charmingly situated, well fitted
up, convenient, and pleasant, and not large, but
commodious and elegant. Thursday is still their
public day for company, though the business of
the vase is over for this season.

The room into which we were conducted was
so much crowded we could hardly make our way.
Lady Miller came to the door, and, as she had first
done to the rest of us, took my hand, and led me
up to a most prodigious fat old lady, and intro-
duced me to her. This was Mrs. Riggs, her lady-
ship's mother, who seems to have Bath Easton and
its owners under her feet.

I was smiled upon with a graciousness designedly
marked, and seemed most uncommonly welcome.
Mrs. Riggs looked as if she could have shouted for
joy at sight of me ! She is mighty merry and
facetious. Sir John was very quiet, but very civil.

I saw the place appropriated for the vase, but
at this time it was removed.1 As it was hot, Sir

1 As, at this date, the famous Frascati vase was not enfonction, and

416 DIARY AND LETTERS OF i78o

John Miller offered us to walk round the house,
and see his green-house, etc. So away we set off,
Harriet Bowdler accompanying me, and some others
following.

We had not strolled far ere we were overtaken
by another party, and among them I perceived

Miss W , my new sceptical friend. She joined

me immediately, and I found she was by no means
in so sad a humour as when I saw her last ; on the
contrary, she seemed flightily gay.

" Were you never here before ? " she asked me.

"No."

" No ? why, what an acquisition you are then !
I suppose you will contribute to the vase ? "

" No, indeed ! "

" No more you ought ; you are quite too good
for it."

" No, not that ; but I have no great passion
for making the trial. You, I suppose, have con-
tributed ? "

" No, never — I can't. I have tried, but I could
never write verses in my life — never get beyond
Cupid and stupid."

" Did Cupid, then, always come in your way ?
what a mischievous urchin ! "

" No, he has not been very mischievous to me
this year."

as Miss Burney never contributed to it, brief notice of it is all that is
here required. It stood in a bow window overlooking the Avon at
Lady Miller's villa at Batheaston, near Bath, and into it, periodically,
her guests dropped their poetical contributions. These were after-
wards submitted to a critical committee, who selected the best three,
to the writers of which the hostess presented suitable prizes. Walpole
and Johnson pooh - poohed these ingenuous diversions ; and Macaulay
speaks scoffingly of the proceedings. Yet Anstey and Garrick and Miss
Seward were occasional contributors, and the verses cannot all have been
contemptible. They were subsequently collected under the title of
Poetical Amusements at a Villa near Bath, 1775-81, 4 vols. As for the
vase itself, according to the Rector of Swanswick, Professor Earle {Bath
Ancient and Modern, 1864, p. 214 n.), it is no more. On the other hand,
it is stated in the Dictionary of National Biography (1894) that it was
" purchased by Edwyn Dowding, of Bath, and placed by him in the Public
Park of the town." There is a print of it in vol. i. of Poetical Amusements.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 417

" Not this year ? Oh, very well ! He has
spared you, then, for a whole twelvemonth ! "

She laughed, and we were interrupted by more
company.

Afterwards, when we returned into the house,
we found another room filled with company.

Among those that I knew were the C s, the

G s, some of the Bowdlers, Mr. Wyndham,

and Miss J .

This Miss J— had, when I last met her at

Mrs. Lambart's, desired to be introduced to me, as
Mrs. Lambart told me, who performed that cere-
mony ; for Mrs. Lambart, with whom I am in no
small favour, always makes me the most con-
sequential, and I found she was Mrs. Rishton's old
friend, and, therefore, all I remember hearing of
her gave me no desire to make her my new one.
However, nothing convinced me more that I was
the ion at Bath, than her making this overture, for
everything I ever heard of her proved her insolent
pride. Besides, Beau Travell has spoken very
highly of me ! So my fame is now made, and

Mrs. G , who had passed me when she entered

the room at Bath Easton, while I was engaged in
conversation with Lady Miller, afterwards suddenly
came up, and with a look of equal surprise and
pleasure at sight of me, most graciously and smil-
ingly addressed me. My coldness in return to all
these sickening, heartless, ton-led people, I try not
to repress, though to treat them with such respect
as their superior stations fairly claim, I would not
for the world neglect.

Some time after, while I was talking with Miss

W and Harriet Bowdler, Mrs. Riggs came up

to us, and with an expression of comical admiration,
fixed her eyes upon me, and for some time amused
herself with apparently watching me. Mrs. Lam-
bart, who was at cards, turned round and begged

vol. i 2 E

418 DIARY AND LETTERS OF i78o

me to give her her cloak, for she felt rheumatic ;
I could not readily find it, and, after looking some
time, I was obliged to give her my own ; but while
I was hunting, Mrs. Riggs followed me, laughing,
nodding, and looking much delighted, and every
now and then saying,

" That's right, Evelina ! — Ah, look for it,
Evelina ! — Evelina always did so — she always
looked for people's cloaks, and was obliging and
well-bred ! "

I grinned a little to be sure, but tried to escape

her, by again getting between Miss W and

Harriet Bowdler ; but Mrs. Riggs still kept opposite
to me, expressing from time to time, by uplifted
hands and eyes, comical applause.

Harriet Bowdler modestly mumbled some praise,
but addressed it to Miss Thrale. I begged a truce,
and retired to a chair in a corner, at the request

of Miss W , to have a tete-a-tete, for which,

however, her strange levity gave me no great
desire.

She begged to know if I had written anything
else. I assured her never.

" The Sylph" l said she, " I am told, was yours."

" I had nothing at all to do with that or any-
thing else that ever was published but Evelina ;
you, I suppose, read the Sylph for its name's
sake ? "

" No ; I never read novels — I hate them ; I
never read Evelina till I was quite persecuted by
hearing it talked of. Sir Charles Grandison I tried
once, but could not bear it ; Sir Charles for a lover !
no lover for me ! for a guardian or the trustee of

1 The Sylph, 2 vols., was published by Lowndes, who — as we have
seen — was not unwilling that it should be attributed to Miss Burney. It
is reviewed in the Gentleman's Magazine for June 1779. "The whole,"
says Mr. Urban, " is well intended ; but displays too great a knowledge
of the ton, and the worst, though perhaps the highest, part of the world,
to be the work of a young Lady, as has been said and supposed " (p. 316).

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 419

an estate, he might do very well — but for a
lover ! "

" What — when he bows upon your hand ! would
not that do ? "

She kept me by her side for a full hour, and
we again talked over our former conversation ; and
I inquired what first led her to seeking infidel
books ?

" Pope," she said ; " he was himself a deist, she
believed, and his praise of Bolingbroke made her
mad to read his books, and then the rest followed
easily."

She also gave me an account of her private and
domestic life ; of her misery at home, her search of
dissipation, and her incapability of happiness.

Poor girl ! I am really sorry for her ; she lias
strong and lively parts, but I think her in the high
road of lasting destruction. And she thinks about
religion only to persuade herself there is none.
I recommended to her all the good books I could
think of, and scrupled not to express warmly and
most seriously my surprise and horror at her way
of thinking. It was easy to me to see that she
attended to my opinions with curiosity, and yet
easier to discover that had she not respected me as
the author of a book she happened to be fond of,
she would have rallied them unmercifully ; how-
ever, that consideration gave weight to what I
said, and evidently disposed her to be pleased
with me.

Our conversation would have lasted till leave-
taking, but for our being interrupted by Miss
Miller, a most beautiful little girl of ten years old.

Miss W begged her to sing us a French

song. She coquetted, but Mrs. Riggs came to us,
and said if I wished it I did her grand-daughter
great honour, and she insisted upon her obedience.
The little girl laughed and complied, and we went

420 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

into another room to hear her, followed by the
Misses Caldwell. She sung in a pretty childish
manner enough.

When we became more intimate, she said,

"Ma'am, I have a great favour to request of
you, if you please ! "

I begged to know what it was, and assured her
I would grant it ; and, to be out of the way of these
misses, I led her to the window.

" Ma'am," said the little girl, " will you then be
so good as to tell me where Evelina is now ? "

I was a little surprised at the question, and told
her I had not heard lately.

" Oh, ma'am, but I am sure you know I " cried
she, "for you know you wrote it ! and mamma was
so good as to let me hear her read it ; and pray,
ma'am, do tell me where she is ? and whether Miss
Branghton and Miss Polly went to see her when
she was married to Lord Orville ? "

I promised her I would inquire, and let her know.

" And pray, ma'am, is Madame Duval with her
now (

And several other questions she asked me, with
a childish simplicity that was very diverting. She
took the whole for a true story, and was quite eager
to know what was become of all the people. And
when I said I would inquire, and tell her when we
next met,

" Oh, but, ma'am," she said, " had not you
better write it down, because then there would be
more of it, you know ? "

She told me repeatedly how sorry she was that
I had not come to Bath Easton in " vase " time,
and how sorry her mamma had been.

When we were coming away, and Lady Miller
and Sir John had both taken very civil leave
of me, I curtsied in passing Mrs. Riggs, and she
rose, and called after me — " Set about another ! "

1780 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 421

When we came home, our newspaper accounts
of the tumults in town, with Lord George Gordon
and his mob, alarmed us very much ; but we had
still no notion of the real danger you were all in.

Friday. — We drank tea with the Bowdlers, and
met Captain Frodsham. Fanny Bowdler con-
gratulated me very wickedly upon my initiation
at Bath Easton. At our return home we were
informed a mob was surrounding a new Roman
Catholic chapel. At first we disbelieved it, but
presently one of the servants came and told us
they were knocking it to pieces ; and in half an
hour, looking out of our windows, we saw it in
flames ! and listening, we heard loud and violent
shouts !

I shall write no particulars ; the horrible subject
you have had more than your share of. Mrs.
Thrale and I sat up till four o'clock, and walked
about the parades, and at two we went with a
large party to the spot, and saw the beautiful new
building consuming ; the mob then were all quiet
— all still and silent, and everybody seemed but as
spectators.

Saturday morning, to my inexpressible concern,
brought me no letters from town, and my uneasi-
ness to hear from you made me quite wretched.
Mrs. Thrale had letters from Sir Philip Clerke and
Mr. Perkins, to acquaint her that her town-house 1
had been three times attacked, but was at last
saved by guards, — her children, plate, money, and
valuables all removed. Streatham also threatened,
and emptied of all its furniture.

The same morning also we saw a Bath and
Bristol paper, in which Mr. Thrale was asserted to

1 Mr. Thrale's house in the Borough was in Deadman's Place, Bank-
side, now called Park Street, Borough Market. When, in 1781, the
Brewery was sold, the house was given by Mrs. Thrale to Mrs. Perkins.
Johnson wrote his life of Congreve there. (Hill's Letters of Samuel
Johnson, 1892, ii. 160.)

422 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

be a papist. This villainous falsehood terrified us
even for his personal safety, and Mrs. Thrale and
I agreed it was best to leave Bath directly, and
travel about the country.

She left to me the task of acquainting Mr.
Thrale with these particulars, being herself too
much disturbed to be capable of such a task. I
did it as well as I could, and succeeded so far that,
by being lightly told of it, he treated it lightly,
and bore it with much steadiness and composure.
We then soon settled to decamp.

We had no time nor spirits pour prendre conge
stuff, but determined to call upon the Bowdlers
and Miss Cooper. They were all sorry to part,
and Miss Cooper, to my equal surprise and
pleasure, fairly made a declaration of her passion
for me, assuring me she had never before taken
so great a fancy to a new acquaintance, and
beginning warmly the request I meant to make
myself, of continuing our intimacy in town. I
am sure I think so highly of her, that I shall be
well pleased to attend to this injunction.

From Miss F. Burney to Dr. Burney

Bath, June 9, 1780.

My dearest Sir — How are you ? where are
you ? and what is to come next ? These are the
questions I am dying with anxiety to have daily
announced. The accounts from town are so
frightful, that I am uneasy, not only for the city
at large, but for every individual I know in it. I
hope to Heaven that ere you receive this, all will
be once more quiet ; but till we hear that it is so,
I cannot be a moment in peace.

Does this martial law confine you quite to the
house ? Folks here say that it must, and that no

1780 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 423

business of any kind can be transacted. Oh, what
dreadful times ! Yet I rejoice extremely that the
opposition members have fared little better than
the ministerial. Had such a mob been confirmed
friends of either or of any party, I think the
nation must have been at their disposal ; for, if
headed by popular or skilful leaders, who and
what could have resisted them ? — I mean, if they
are as formidable as we are here told.

Dr. Johnson has written to Mrs. Thrale, with-
out even mentioning the existence of this mob ;
perhaps at this very moment he thinks it "a
humbug upon the nation," as George Bodens called
the parliament.

A private letter to Bull,1 the bookseller, brought
word this morning that much slaughter has been
made by the military among the mob. Never, I
am sure, can any set of wretches less deserve
quarter or pity ; yet it is impossible not to shudder
at hearing of their destruction. Nothing less,
however, would do ; they were too outrageous
and powerful for civil power.

But what is it they want ? who is going to turn
papist? who, indeed, is thinking in an alarming
way of religion — this pious mob, and George
Gordon excepted ?

I am very anxious indeed about our dear Etty.
Such disturbance in her neighbourhood I fear
must have greatly terrified her ; and I am sure
she is not in a situation or state of health to
bear terror. I have written and begged to hear
from her.

All the stage-coaches that come into Bath from
London are chalked over with " No Popery," and
Dr. Harrington called here just now, and says the

1 Bull's Library was on the Parade. Peach, Historic Houses in Bath,
1884, ii. 98, says he succeeded to Frederick, and Richardson's brother-in-
law, James Leake.

424 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

same was chalked this morning upon his door,
and is scrawled in several places about the town.
Wagers have been laid that the popish chapel here
will be pulled or burnt down in a few days ; but I
believe not a word of the matter, nor do I find
that anybody is at all alarmed. Bath, indeed,
ought to be held sacred as a sanctuary for invalids ;
and I doubt not but the news of the firing in town
will prevent all tumults out of it.

Now, if, after all the intolerable provocation
given by the mob, after all the leniency and
forbearance of the ministry, and after the shrinking
of the minority, we shall by and by hear that this
firing was a massacre — will it not be villainous and
horrible ? And yet as soon as safety is secured
— though by this means alone all now agree it
can be secured — nothing would less surprise me
than to hear the seekers of popularity make this
assertion.

Will you, dear sir, beg Charlotte to answer
this letter by your directions, and tell me how the
world goes ? We are sure here of hearing too
much or too little. Mr. Grenville says he knows
not whether anything can be done to Lord George ;
and that quite shocks me, as it is certain that, in
all equity and common sense, he is either mad
enough for Moorflelds, or wicked enough for the
Tower, and, therefore, that to one of these places
he ought to go.

Friday night. — The above I writ this morning,
before I recollected this was not post-day, and all
is altered here since. The threats I despised were
but too well grounded, for, to our utter amazement
and consternation, the new Roman Catholic chapel
in this town was set on fire at about nine o'clock.
It is now burning with a fury that is dreadful, and
the house of the priest belonging to it is in flames
also. The poor persecuted man himself has, I

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 425

believe, escaped with life, though pelted, followed,
and very ill-used. Mrs. Thrale and I have been
walking about with the footmen several times.
The whole town is still and orderly. The rioters
do their work with great composure, and though
there are knots of people in every corner, all
execrating the authors of such outrages, nobody
dares oppose them. An attempt, indeed, was
made, but it was ill-conducted, faintly followed,
and soon put an end to by a secret fear of exciting
vengeance.

Alas ! to what have we all lived ! — the poor
invalids here will probably lose all chance of life,
from terror. Mr. Hay, our apothecary, has been
attending the removal of two, who were confined
to their beds in the street where the chapel is
burning. The Catholics throughout the place are
all threatened with destruction, and we met several
porters, between ten and eleven at night, privately
removing goods, walking on tiptoe, and scarcely
breathing.

I firmly believe, by the deliberate villainy with
which this riot is conducted, that it will go on in
the same desperate way as in town, and only be
stopped by the same desperate means. Our plan
for going to Bristol is at an end. We are told it
would be madness, as there are seven Romish
chapels in it ; but we are determined upon
removing somewhere to-morrow ; for why should
we, who can go, stay to witness such horrid
scenes ?

Saturday afternoon, June 10. — I was most
cruelly disappointed in not having one word to-
day. I am half crazy with doubt and disturbance
in not hearing. Everybody here is terrified to
death. We have intelligence that Mr. Thrale's
house in town 1 is filled with soldiers, and

1 See ante, p. 421.

426 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

threatened by the mob with destruction. Perhaps
he may himself be a marked man for their fury.
We are going directly from Bath, and intend to
stop only at villages. To-night we shall stop at
Warminster, not daring to go to Devizes. This
place is now well guarded, but still we dare not
await the event of to-night ; all the Catholics in
the town have privately escaped.

I know not now when I shall hear from you.
I am in agony for news. Our headquarters will
be Brighthelmstone,1 where I do most humbly
and fervently entreat you to write — do, dearest
sir, write, if but one word — if but only you name
yourself ! Nothing but your own hand can now
tranquillise me. The reports about London here
quite distract me. If it were possible to send me
a line by the diligence to Brighton,1 how grateful
I should be for such an indulgence ! I should
then find it there upon our arrival. Charlotte, I
am sure, will make it into a sham parcel, and
Susy will write for you all but the name. God
bless — defend — preserve you ! my dearest father.
Life is no life to me while I fear for your
safety.

God bless and save you all ! I shall write
to-morrow from wherever we may be, — nay,
every day I shall write, for you will all soon be as
anxious for news from the country as I have been
for it from town. Some infamous villain has put
it into the paper here that Mr. Thrale is a papist.
This, I suppose, is an Hothamite2 report, to inflame
his constituents.

1 Miss Burney, it will be seen, uses both names. •

2 Sir Richard Hotham, by whom Mr. Thrale was defeated at South-
wark in the following September. " Mr. Thrale 's loss of health has lost
him the election," wrote Johnson on October 17 (Hill's Boswell, 1887, iii.
442).

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 427
Miss F. Burney to Dr. Burney

Salisbury, June 11, 1780.

Here we are, dearest sir, and here we mean to
pass this night.

We did not leave Bath till eight o'clock
yesterday evening, at which time it was filled
with dragoons, militia, and armed constables, not
armed with muskets, but bludgeons : these latter
were all chairmen, who were sworn by the mayor
in the morning for petty constables. A popish
private chapel, and the houses of all the Catholics,
were guarded between seven and eight, and the
inhabitants ordered to keep house.

We set out in the coach-and-four, with two men
on horseback, and got to Warminster, a small town
in Somersetshire, a little before twelve.1

This morning two more servants came after us
from Bath, and brought us word that the pre-
cautions taken by the magistrates last night had
had good success, for no attempt of any sort had
been renewed towards a riot.

But the happiest tidings to me were contained
in a letter which they brought, which had arrived
after our departure, by the diligence, from Mr.
Perkins, with an account that all was quiet in
London, and that Lord G. Gordon was sent to
the Tower.

I am now again tolerably easy, but I shall not
be really comfortable, or free from some fears, till
I hear from St. Martin's Street.

The Borough House has been quite preserved.2
I know not how long we may be on the road, but
nowhere long enough for receiving a letter till we
come to Brighthelmstone.

We stopped in our way at Wilton, and spent
half the day at that beautiful place.

1 See ante, p. 426. 2 See ante, p. 421.

428 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

Just before we arrived there, Lord Arundel had
sent to the officers in the place, to entreat a party
of guards immediately, for the safety of his house,
as he had intelligence that a mob was on the road
from London to attack it : — he is a Catholic. His
request was immediately complied with.

We intended to have gone to a private town,
but find all quiet here,1 and, therefore, prefer it as
much more commodious. There is no Romish
chapel in the town ; mass has always been per-
formed for the Catholics of the place at a Mrs.
Arundel's in the Close — a relation of his lordship's,
whose house is fifteen miles off. I have inquired
about the Harris's ; 2 I find they are here and all
well.

Peace now, I trust, will be restored to the
nation — at least as soon as some of the desperate
gang that may escape from London in order to
spread confusion in the country, are dispersed or
overcome.

I will continue to write while matters are in this
doubtful state, that you may have no anxiety added
to the great stock you must suffer upon my account.

We are all quite well, and when I can once hear
you are so, I shall be happy.

Adieu, most dear sir ! Love, duty, and com-
pliments to all from your most dutiful and most
affectionate, F. B.

Dr. Burney to Miss F. Burney

1 St. Martin's Street, Monday Afternoon.
Your letter just received.

My dear Fanny — We are all safe and well,
after our heartaches and terrors. London is now
the most secure residence in the kingdom.

1 i.e. at Salisbury.
The family of James Harris, who lived at Salisbury. See ante, p. 86.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 429

I wrote a long letter to our dear Mrs. T. on
Friday night, with a kind of detail of the week's
transactions. I am now obliged to go out, and
shall leave the girls to fill up the rest of the sheet.
All is safe and quiet in the Borough. We sent
William l thither on Saturday. God bless you !
All affection and good wishes attend our dear
friends.

I said that riot would go into the country, like
a new cap, till it was discountenanced and out of
fashion in the metropolis. I bless every soldier I
see — we have no dependence on any defence from
outrage but the military.

Miss Charlotte Burney to Miss F. Burney

I am very sorry, my dear Fanny, to hear how
much you have suffered from your apprehension
about us. Susan will tell you why none of us
wrote before Friday ; and she says she has told
you what dreadful havoc and devastation the mob
have made here in all parts of the town. How-
ever, we are pretty quiet and tranquil again now.
Papa goes on with his business pretty much as
usual, and so far from the military keeping people
within doors (as you say, in your letter to my
father, you suppose to be the case) the streets
were never more crowded — everybody is wander-
ing about in order to see the ruins of the places
that the mob have destroyed.

There are two camps, one in St. James's, and
the other in Hyde Park, which, together with the
military law, makes almost every one here think
he is safe again. I expect we shall all have " a
passion for a scarlet coat " now.

I hardly know what to tell you that won't be
stale news. They say that duplicates of the hand-

1 The St. Martin's Street servant. See ante, p. 32.

430 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

bill that I have enclosed were distributed all over
the town on Wednesday and Thursday last ; how-
ever, thank Heaven, everybody says now that Mr.
Thrale's house and brewery are as safe as we can
wish them. There was a brewer in Turnstile that
had his house gutted and burnt, because, the mob
said, " he was a popish, and sold popish beer."
Did you ever hear of such diabolical ruffians ?

Sister Hetty is vastly well, and has received
your letter ; I think she has stood the fright better,
and been a greater heroine, than any of us.

To add to the pleasantness of our situation,
there have been gangs of women going about to
rob and plunder. Miss Kirwans 1 went on Friday
afternoon to walk in the Museum gardens, and
were stopped by a set of women, and robbed of
all the money they had. The mob had proscribed
the mews, for they said, "The king should not
have a horse to ride upon ! " They besieged the
new Somerset House, with intention to destroy it,
but were repulsed by some soldiers placed there
for that purpose.

Mr. Sleepe has been here a day or two, and
says the folks at Watford, where he comes from,
" approve very much of having the Catholic chapels
destroyed, for they say it's a shame the pope should
come here ! " There is a house hereabouts that
they had chalked upon last week, "Empty, and
No Popery ! "

I am heartily rejoiced, my dearest Fanny, that
you have got away from Bath, and hope and trust
that at Brighthelmstone you will be as safe as we
are here.

It sounds almost incredible, but they say, that
on Wednesday night last,2 when the mob were

1 These were friends of the Burney household, of whom, beyond the
fact, that they were " sweet girls," nothing is known.

2 " I assure your Ladyship there is no panic. Lady Aylesbury has

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA1 431

more powerful, more numerous, and outrageous
than ever, there was, nevertheless, a number of
exceedingly genteel people at Ranelagh, though
they knew not but their houses might be on fire
at the time !

God bless you, my dear Fanny, — for Heaven's
sake keep up your spirits ! — Yours ever, with
the greatest affection,

Charlotte Ann Burney.

Mrs. Thrale to Miss F. Burney

Brighton, Thursday Evening, June 29, 1780.

Streatham detained me so scandalously late that
I never entered Ryegate till 12 o'clock — you know
we had calculated for 11. I had, however, the
satisfaction of leaving Presto1 in the arms of a
mistress he preferred to me, and he found love an
ample recompense for the loss of friendship. All
dogs do, I suppose !

At 10 o'clock I saw myself here, and quitted
my very riotous companions, to look for their
father and sister, who were walking with Miss
Owen to the Point. The evening was spent in
chat, and this morning I carried a bunch of grapes
to Mr. S erase,2 who was too ill to swallow one, or
to see even me. My master, however, is quite in
rosy health — he is, indeed — and jokes Peggy Owen
for her want of power to flash. He made many
inquiries for you ; and was not displeased that I

been at the play in the Haymarket, and the Duke [of Gloucester] and my
four nieces at Ranelagh this evening " ( Wednesday night, past two in
the morning , June 7, 1780 — Walpole to Lady Ossory).

1 Mrs. f hrale's dog. See ante, p. 120.

2 Mrs. Thrale's Mr. Crisp. " Dear Mr. Scrase was an old gouty
solicitor, retired from business, friend and contemporary of my husband's
father" (Autobiography, etc. of Mrs. Piozzi (Thrale), 1861, ii. 27). Mr.
Richard Scrase lived in the Manor House (site of the Royal York Hotel)
on the Steine. He had helped the Thrales in their distresses of 1771-72
(see ante, p. 159), and their residence in Brighton was probably due to
him (Bishop 's Brighton in the Olden Time, 1892, p. 147).

432 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

had given Perkins two hundred guineas instead of
one 1 — a secret I never durst tell before, not even
to Johnson, not even to you — but so it was.

I have no society here, so I might go to work
like you, if I had any materials. Susan and Sophy
have taken to writing verses — 'tis the fashion of
the school they say, and Sophy's are the best
performances of all the misses, except one monkey
of eighteen years old.

Harry C is here, and with him a Mr. S ,

two poor empty, unmeaning lads from town, who
talk of a man being a high treat, etc. They are, I
think, the first companions I ever picked up and
dismissed, as fairly worse than none.

Ah, my sweet girl ! all this stuff written, and
not one word of the loss I feel in your leaving me !
But, upon my honour, I forbear only to save your
fretting, for I do think you would vex if you saw
how silly I looked about for you ever since I came
home. I shall now say, as Johnson does, " Ah,
Burney ! if you loved me, etc. etc." But no more
of what must be missed and must not be mourned.
—Yours, H. L. T.

Miss F. Burney to Mrs. Thrale

Saturday, July 1, 1780.

Have you no " quality " yet, my dearest madam,
that letters are three days upon the road ! I have
only this instant received yours, though you were
so kindly indulgent to my request of writing the
next day after your journey. I rejoice, indeed,
that you found my master so well. I daresay
Queeny had kept him sharp. What does he think
of Dr. Johnson's dieting scheme ? I must confess
that if, like Mrs. Tattersall, he should consent to

1 Mr. Perkins, Thrale's superintendent, had been instrumental in saving
the Southwark or Borough House from the Gordon rioters.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 433

adopt the vegetable system, I should be as unwill-
ing as her husband to be a good beefsteak in his
way !

Your liberality to Perkins charms me ; and so
does Mr. Thrale's approbation of it ; for his being
not displeased implies nothing short of approbation.
I am sorry for Miss Owen,1 but I much hope you
will be able to revive and comfort her : sure I am
that if spirit can reanimate, or sweetness can soothe
her, she will not be long in so forlorn a way.

Your account of Miss M 's being taken in,

and taken in by Captain B ,2 astonishes me !

surely not half we have heard either of her adorers,
or her talents, can have been true. Mrs. Byron
has lost too little to have anything to lament,
except, indeed, the time she sacrificed to foolish
conversation, and the civilities she threw away
upon so worthless a subject. Augusta has nothing
to reproach herself with, and riches and wisdom
must be rare indeed, if she fares not as well with
respect to both, as she would have done with an
adventurer whose pocket, it seems, was as empty
as his head.

Nothing here is talked of but the trial of the
rioters : most people among those who are able
to appear as witnesses, are so fearful of incurring
the future resentment of the mob, that evidence
is very difficult to be obtained, even where guilt
is undoubted : by this means numbers are daily
discharged who have offended against all laws,
though they can be punished by none. I am glad,
however, to see the moderation of those who might
now, perhaps, extirpate all power but their own ;
for neither art nor authority is used to blacken
the crimes of the accused, or force into light

1 See ante, p. 431. Miss Owen is mentioned as visiting with Mrs.
Thrale at St. Martin's Street in 1777 (Early Diary, 1889, ii. 153).

a Brisbane, no doubt, from the subsequent references to Augusta
Byron (see ante, p. 408).

VOL. I 2f

434 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

the designs of the suspected. Nothing has yet
appeared that indicates any plot, except for general
plunder, nor have any of the conspirators, who
have yet been examined, seemed to have con-
federated for any deeper purpose than to drink
hard, shout loud, and make their betters houseless
as themselves.

I have seen Pacchierotti, and he has sung to me
as sweetly, and complimented me as liberally, as
ears the most fastidious, and a mind the most vain,
could desire ; yet not the less have I thought of or
regretted my ever dear, ever kind, and most sweet
Mrs. Thrale ! But, as I am come, after many
absences, to a family so deservedly beloved by me,
I am determined neither to sour my friends nor
myself, by encouraging a repining spirit, but now
to be happy as I can with them, and hope, ere
long, to be again so with you ; for, with affection
more sincere, and a heart more true, nobody can
love my dear Mrs. Thrale more fervently and
faithfully than her ever devoted F. Burney.1

My love and duty to my master : and love,
without the duty, to Miss Thrale ; and my best
compliments to Miss Owen.

We shall go to Chessington as soon as the trials
are over and the town is quiet.

Miss F. Burney to Mrs. Thrale

Saturday, July 8, 1780.

See but, dearest madam, my prompt obedience,
by this brown and rough-edged mark of it. Your
sweet letter I have but this moment received, so I

1 This is a mild example of what, in Humphry Clinker, Landor called the
fashionable "rigmarole." " By rigmarole I mean such a termination as
this : — ' It had like to have kindled the flames of discord in the family of
yours always, etc.'" (Forster's Walter Savage Landor, 1876, p. 499).
The passed master of this valuable art was Wilkins Micawber.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA 435

think the quality use you very ill, or rather me,
for I have made a wry face at the postman's
knock, without a letter from Brighton, this day
or two.

You give me nothing but good news about my
master, and that delights me very sincerely ; but I
can see that you are not quite comfortable yourself.
Why have you this cold and headache ? Have
you gone imprudently into the sea — I mean with-
out taking counsel with nurse Tibson ? You know
we long since settled, that whenever you were ill
all your friends would impute it to bathing ; so this
doubt will not surprise, though ten to one but it
provokes you.

I have not seen Dr. Johnson since the day you
left me, when he came hither, and met Mrs. Ord,
Mr. Hoole,1 Mrs. Reynolds, Baretti, the Paradises,
Pepys, Castles, Dr. Dunbar, and some others ; and
then he was in high spirits and good humour, talked
all the talk, affronted nobody, and delighted every-
body. I never saw him more sweet, nor better
attended to by his audience. I have not been able
to wait upon him since, nor, indeed, upon anybody,
for we have not spent one evening alone since my
return.

Pacchierotti left London yesterday morning.
We all miss him much, myself particularly, because,
for all Dr. Johnson, he is not only the first, most
finished, and most delightful of singers, but an
amiable, rational, and intelligent creature, who has
given to himself a literary education, and who has
not only a mind superior to his own profession,
which he never names but with regret, in spite of
the excellence to which he has risen, but he has
also, I will venture to say, talents and an under-
standing that would have fitted him for almost any

1 John Hoole, 1727-1803, at this date the translator of Tasso's Jerusalem
Delivered, 1763, but not yet of Ariosto. He was a friend of Johnson.

436 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

other, had they, instead of being crushed under
every possible disadvantage, been encouraged and
improved. Had you seen as much of him as I have
done, I think, in defiance of prejudice, you would
be of the same opinion.

I am quite disappointed with respect to Miss
Owen. I had hoped she would have been more
comfortable to you. Mr. S erase, too ! — indeed your
account of your society grieves me. Sickness,
spleen, or folly seem to compose it ; and if you, who
have so much facility in making new acquaintance,
find them so insupportable, it is, I am sure, that
they must be impenetrable blockheads !

Sir John Bounce's * apology for not having
signalised himself more gloriously in public life,
made me laugh very heartily. Do you hear any-
thing of my general, his case, or his monkey, or the
lost calves of his legs ? 2 As one of your true
ancient swaggerers, Brighthelmstone seems to have
a fair and natural right to him.

Mrs. Montagu has been in town. I heard this
from Mrs. Ord, who had an appointment to meet
her at her new house, and was invited to a con-
versazione with her at Mr. Pepys'.

I have no private intelligence to give about the
rioters, or Lord George, save that I am informed
he is certainly to be tried for high treason, not for
a misdemeanour. Are you not rejoiced at the
sequel of good news from America ?

The soldiers are drawn off gently, but daily,
from all parts of the metropolis. The camps in
the parks are, however, expected to remain all
summer. Poor Captain Clerke is dead ! I was
willing to doubt it as long as possible, but it has
been confirmed to my father by Lord Sandwich.

We have no consolation from Admiral Jem's

1 Query — Sir John Shelley. See ante, p. 287.
2 See ante, p. 300, et seq.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 437

promotion, for the first -lieutenant of the late
Captain Cook's ship has succeeded to the command
of Captain Clerke's.1 Is it not a melancholy cir-
cumstance that both the captains of this expedition
should perish ere it is completed ? Lord Sand-
wich told my father that the journal of Captain
Cook is arrived, and now in the hands of the king,
who has desired to have the first perusal of it.
I am very impatient to know something of its con-
tents. The ships are both expected almost daily.
They have already been out a year longer than was
intended. Mr. Jem has not written one line.
Don't you think my master will allow him to be a
man of sense, and take to him ?

Adieu, my dearest madam ! I hope I have used
you ill enough, with regard to paper, to satisfy your
desire, and convince you of the true affection of
your faithful and much obliged F. B.

My best respects to Mr. and Miss Thrale.

Miss F. Burney to Mrs. Thrale

Nobody does write such sweet letters as my
dear Mrs. Thrale, and I would sooner give up a
month's allowance of meat, than my week's allow-
ance of an epistle.

The report of the Parliament's dissolution I hope
is premature. I inquire of everybody I see about
it, and always hear that it is expected now to last
almost as long as it can last. Why, indeed, should
government wish to dissolve it, when they meet
with no opposition from it ?

Since I wrote last I have drunk tea with Dr.
Johnson. My father took me to Bolt Court, and
we found him, most fortunately, with only one

1 See ante, p. 317.

438 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

brass-headed cane gentleman. Since that, I have
had the pleasure to meet him again at Mrs.
Reynolds's, when he offered to take me with him
to Grub Street, to see the ruins of the house
demolished there in the late riots, by a mob that,
as he observed, could be no friend to the Muses !
He inquired if I had ever yet visited Grub Street ?
but was obliged to restrain his anger when I
answered " No," because he acknowledged he had
never paid his respects to it himself.1 " However,"
says he, " you and I, Burney, will go together ; we
have a very good right to go, so we'll visit the
mansions of our progenitors, and take up our own
freedom together."

There's for you, madam ! What can be grander ?
The loss of Timoleon 2 is really terrible ; yet, as it
is an incident that will probably dwell no little
time upon the author's mind, who knows but it
may be productive of another tragedy, in which a
dearth of story will not merely be no fault of his,
but no misfortune ?

I have no intelligence to give about the Dean
of Coleraine, but that we are now in daily expecta-
tion of hearing of his arrival.

Yesterday I drank tea at Sir Joshua's, and met
by accident with Mrs. Cholmondeley ; I was very
glad to find that her spirits are uninjured by her
misfortunes ; she was as gay, flighty, entertaining
and frisky as ever. Her sposo is not confined, as
was said ; he is only gone upon his travels : she
seems to bear his absence with remarkable forti-
tude. After all, there is something in her very
attractive ; her conversation is so spirited, so

1 And this notwithstanding that he had defined it memorably in the
Dictionary : — " Originally the name of a street near Moorfields in London,
much inhabited by writers of small histories, dictionaries, and temporary
poems ; whence any mean production is called grubstreet. " Nor does it
appear that he ever went there afterwards, though in 1783 he proposed to
Hoole to " eat a beefsteak in Grub Street."

2 See ante, p. 361.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 439

humorous, so enlivening, that she does not suffer
one's attention to rest, much less to flag, for hours
together.

Sir Joshua told me he was now at work upon
your pictures, touching them up for Streatham, and
that he has already ordered the frames, and shall
have them quite ready whenever the house is in
order for them.

I also met at his house Mr. W. Burke,1 and
young Burke, the orator's son, who is made much-
ado about, but I saw not enough of him to know
why.2

We are all here very truly concerned for Mr.
Chamier, who you know is a very great favourite
among us. He is very ill, and thinks himself in
a decline. He is now at Bath, and writes my
father word he has made up his mind, come what
may.3

Your good news of my master glads me, how-
ever, beyond what good news of almost any other
man in the world could do. Pray give him my
best respects, and beg him not to forget me so
much as to look strange upon me when we next
meet ; if he does it won't be fair, for I feel that I
shall look very kind upon him.

I fancy Miss Thrale is quite too difficult ; why,
bless me, by " something happening " I never
meant to wait for a murder, nor a wedding, no nor
an invasion, nor an insurrection ; any other bore
will do as well. My father charges me to give you
his kindest love, and not daintify his affection into
respects or compliments.

Adieu, dearest madam, and from me accept not
only love, and not only respects, but both, and
gratitude, and warmest wishes, and constancy
invariable into the bargain. F. Burney.

1 Burke's kinsman, M.P. for Bedwin, Wiltshire.
2 See post, p. 441. 3 Mr. Chamier died October 12, 1780.

440 DIARY AND LETTERS OF 1780

I am very glad Mr. Tidy is so good. Thank
him for me, and tell him I am glad he keeps my
place open ; and pray give Dr. Delap my compli-
ments. Has he settled yet how he shall dress the
candle snuffers the first night ? I would by no
means have the minutest directions omitted.

From Mrs. Thrale to Miss F. Burney

Brighthelmstone, Wednesday, July 19, 1780.

And so my letters please you, do they, my
sweet Burney ? I know yours are the most enter-
taining things that cross me in the course of the
whole week ; and a miserable praise too, if you
could figure to yourself my most dull companions.
I write now from Bowen's shop,1 where he has
been settled about three days I think ; and here
comes in one man hopping, and asks for Russell
on Sea-water 2 — another tripping, and begs to have
the last new novel sent him home to-night ; one
lady tumbles the ballads about, and fingers the
harpsichord which stands here at every blockhead's
mercy ; and another looks over the lilliputian
library, and purchases Polly Sugar cake for her
long-legged missey.

My master is gone out riding, and we are to
drink tea with Lady Rothes ; after which the
Steyne hours begin, and we cluster round Thomas's
shop,3 and contend for the attention of Lord John
Clinton, a man who could, I think, be of conse-
quence in no other place upon earth, though a
very well - informed and modest - mannered boy.
Dr. Pepys is resolutely and profoundly silent ; and
Lady Shelley,4 having heard wits commended, has

1 See ante, p. 281.

2 Dr. Richard Russell, 1687-1759, a great Brighton notability. His
Dissertation on the Use of Sea Water, etc., was published in 1750.

3 See ante, p. 281. 4 See ante, p. 287.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 441

taken up a new character, and says not only the
severest but the cruellest things you ever heard in

your life. Here is a Mrs. K , too, sister to the

Duchess of M , who is very uncompanionable

indeed, and talks of 7T^wbridge. These, however,
are literally all the people we ever speak to — oh
yes, the Drummonds — but they are scarce blest
with utterance.

Mr. Scrase mends, and I spent an hour with
him to-day. Now have I fairly done with Bright-
helmstone, and will congratulate myself on being
quite of your advice — as Pacchierotti would call it
— concerning Burke, the minor, whom I once met
and could make nothing of.

Poor Mr. Chamier ! and poor Dr. Burney, too !
The loss of real friends after a certain time of life
is a terrible thing, let Dr. Johnson say what he
will. Those who are first called do not get first
home. I remember Chamier lamenting for Mr.
Thrale, who will now, I verily think, live to see
many of those go before him who expected to stay
long after. He will not surely look strange upon
you, for he is glad to see your letters ; though he
does not sigh over them so dismally as he did
yesterday, over one he saw I had directed to
Chid.

Lord George Gordon is to be liberated upon
bail, his quality brethren tell me. To this, I think,
contrary to the general disposition of the people,
who appear to wish his punishment. But the
thunder-cloud always moves against the wind, you
know.

The going to Grub Street would have been a
pretty exploit. Are you continuing to qualify
yourself for an inhabitant ?

Sweet Mrs. Cholmondeley ! I am glad she
can frolic and frisk so : — the time will come too
soon, that will, as Grumio expresses it, :tame

442 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

man, woman, and beast," — and thyself, fellow
Curtis.1

The players this year are rather better than the
last ; but the theatre is no bigger than a band-box,
which is a proper precaution, I think, as here are
not folks to fill even that. The shops are almost
all shut still, and a dearth of money complained
of that is lamentable ; but we have taken some
Spanish ships, it seems, and La Vera Cruz besides.

Adieu, — and divide my truest kindness among
all the dear Newtonians,2 and keep yourself a large
share. You are in no danger of invaders from the
sea-coast. Susan and Sophy bathe and grow, and
riot me out of my senses. I am ever, my dear
girl, most faithfully yours, H. L. T.

Miss F. Burney to Mrs. Thrale

August 16.

I return you my most hearty thanks, my dear
madam, for your last most comfortable tidings,
which, as they have removed all my fears, shall,
for the present, banish their subject. I will never
be melancholic, even though it were recommended
to be lady as well as " gentlemanlike," but when
perforce I cannot help it ; for in good truth that
method of varying the mode of existence offers
itself with so kind a readiness of its own accord,
that a very little patience, and a very little feeling,
will bring in supplies, fresh and fresh, of that sort
of food, which, with a very moderate economy of
anxiety, will lay by for croaking moments stores
inexhaustible. Indeed, though I have so often
heard lamentations of the scarcity of every other

1 Taming of the Shrew, Act. IV. Sc. i. — a variation of Grumio's words to
his fellow-servant, Curtis.

2 Dr. Burney, it will be remembered, was at this time residing in
Newton's old house (see ante, p. 102).

1780 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 443

commodity, useful or ornamental, intellectual or
sensual, I never once, even from the most greedy
devourer of sadness, have heard the remotest hint,
that de quoi manger was in danger of being wanted
for the gluttons of evil and misery ; for though
eating but makes their appetite the stronger, their
materials are as little diminished by voracity as
their hunger.

Well — mal a propos to all this, — Dr. Johnson,
who expects nothing but what is good, and
swallows nothing but what he likes, has delighted
me with another volume of his Lives, — that which
contains Blackmore, Congreve, etc., which he tells
me you have had.1 Oh what a writer he is ! what
instruction, spirit, intelligence, and vigour in almost
every paragraph ! Addison I think equal to any in
the former batch ; but he is rather too hard upon
Prior, and makes Gay, I think, too insignificant.
Some of the little poems of Prior seem to me as
charming as any little poems can be; and Gay's
pastorals I had hoped to have seen praised more
liberally.

At length, I have seen the S. S. She has been
again in town, and was so good as to make us a
very long visit. She looked as beautiful as an
angel, though rather pale, but was in very high
spirits, and I thought her more attractive and
engaging than ever. So I believe did my father. —
Ah! "littel cunning woman," if you were to put
your wicked scheme in practice, I see how it would
take.

We are to go to Chessington next week ; so I
suppose there we shall be when you quit Brighton.
If so, pray tell my dear master I insist upon his
keeping his promise of coming thither ; if not, I

1 Dr. Johnson " dispatched " the life of Congreve between May 9 and
May 25, 1780. He sent two volumes of the Lives to Mrs. Thrale in July.
The last six volumes were published in 1781 (Hill's Letters of Johnson, 1892,
p. 154, 160, and 189).

444 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

won't hold myself in readiness to go to Italy — no,
not if Farinelli were in his prime. But do come,
dearest madam, and do make him : you know he
always does as you bid him, so you have but to
issue your commands. 'Tis a charming thing to
keep a husband in such order. A thousand loves
from all here, but mostly, being spokeswoman, I
have a right to say that, from yours,

F. B.

Journal resumed

S treat ham, Monday, December 6. — As I am now
well enough to employ myself my own way, though
not to go downstairs, I will take this first oppor-
tunity I have had since my return hither, to write
again to my dearest Susan.

Your letters, my love, have been more than
usually welcome to me of late ; their contents have
been very entertaining and satisfactory, and their
arrival has been particularly seasonable ; not on
account of my illness — that alone never yet lowered
my spirits as they are now lowered, because I knew
I must ere long, in all probability, be again well ;
but oh, Susy ! I am — I have been — and I fear must
always be, alarmed indeed for Mr. Thrale ; and the
more I see and know him, the more alarmed, because
the more I love and dread to lose him.

I am not much in cue for journalising ; but I
am yet less inclined for anything else. As writing
to my own Susy commonly lightens my heart, so
I'll e'en set about recollecting the good as well as
bad that has passed since I wrote last ; for else I
were too selfish.

I cannot remember where I left off; — but to go
back to the last few days we spent at Brighthelm-
stone — I must tell you that on the last Friday —
but I cannot recollect anecdotes, nor write them if

1780 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 445

I did ; and so I will only draw up an exit for the
characters to which I had endeavoured to introduce
you.

Lady Hesketh1 made us a very long, sociable,
and friendly visit before our departure, in which
she appeared to much advantage, with respect to
conversation, abilities, and good breeding. I saw
that she became quite enchanted with Mrs. Thrale,
and she made me talk away with her very copi-
ously, by looking at me, in a former visit, when
she was remarking that nothing was so formidable
as to be in company with silent observers ; where-
upon I gathered courage, and boldly entered the
lists ; and her ladyship has inquired my direction
of Mrs. Thrale, and told her that the acquaintance
should not drop at Brighton, for she was determined
to wait upon me in town.

We saw, latterly, a great deal of the H s.

The Colonel — for he has given up his majorship in
the militia, and is raising a company for himself —
appeared to us just as before, — sensible, good-
humoured, and pleasant ; and just as before also
his lady — tittle-tattling, monotonous, and tiresome.

[They had a Miss Cooke with them, — whom I
only mention, because her name was also Kitty,
and because her resemblance to our Kitty did not
stop there, for she was always gay, and always
good-humoured. ]

Lady Shelley 2 was as civil to me as Lady Hes-
keth. Indeed I have good reason to like Sussex.
As my cold prevented my waiting upon her with
Mrs. Thrale, to take leave, she was so good as to
come to me. I am rather sorry she never comes
to town, for she is a sweet woman, and very hand-
some.

[Miss Benson called upon us several times, and

1 Harriet, Lady Hesketh, 1733-1807, cousin and friend of Cowper.
2 See ante, p. 440.

446 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

I abide exactly by what I have already said of
her.]

Dr. Delap was with us till the Friday night
preceding our departure ; he has asked me, in his
unaccountable way, " If I will make him a dish of
tea in St. Martin's Street ? "

We had also made an acquaintance with a Miss
Stow, that I have never had time to mention : a
little girl she is, just seven years old, and plays on
the harpsichord so well, that she made me very
fond of her. She lived with a mother and aunt,
neither of whom I liked ; but she expressed so
much desire to see Dr. Burney, and is so clever,
and forward, and ingenious a child, that I could
not forbear giving her my direction in town, which
she received very gladly, and will, I am sure, find
me out as soon as she leaves Brighton.

[Miss Thrale and I paid visits of conge to Mrs.
Chamier and Miss Emily Jess.

We went together, also,] to Miss Byron ; but
she was invisible with this influenza : — the mother,
however, admitted us, and spent almost the whole
two hours she kept us in exhorting me most kindly
to visit her, and promising to introduce me to the
Admiral, — which I find is a great thing, as he
always avoids seeing any of her female friends,
even Mrs. Thrale, from some odd peculiarity of
disposition.

On Monday, at our last dinner, we had Mr.

Tidy, Mr. B , and Mr. S el win ; and in the

evening came Mrs. Byron.

Mr. Tidy I liked better and better ; he reminded
me of Mr. Crisp ; he has not so good a face, but it
is that sort of face, and his laugh is the very same :
for it first puts every feature in comical motion,
and then fairly shakes his whole frame, so that
there are tokens of thorough enjoyment from head
to foot. He and I should have been very good

1780 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 447

friends, I am sure, if we had seen much of each
other ; — as it was, we were both upon the watch,
drolly enough.

Mr. B , though, till very lately, I have

almost lived upon him, I shall not bore you with
more than naming ; for I find you make no defence
to my hint of having given you too much of him,
and I am at least glad you are so sincere.

And now, my dear Susy, to tragedy — for all
I have yet writ is farce to what I must now add ;
but I will be brief, for your sake as well as my own.

Poor Mr. Thrale had had this vile influenza for
two days before we set out ; but then seemed
better. We got on to Crawley all well ; he then
ordered two of the servants to go on to Reigate
and prepare dinner : meantime he suffered dread-
fully from the coldness of the weather ; he shook
from head to foot, and his teeth chattered aloud
very frightfully. When we got again into the
coach, by degrees he grew warm and tolerably
comfortable ; but when we stopped at Reigate his
speech grew inarticulate, and he said one word for
another. I hoped it was accident, and Mrs. Thrale,
by some strange infatuation, thought he was joking,
— but Miss Thrale saw how it was from the first.

By very cruel ill-luck, too tedious to relate, his
precaution proved useless ; for we had not only no
dinner ready, but no fire, and were shown into a
large and comfortless room. The town is filled
with militia. Here the cold returned dreadfully, —
and here, in short, it was but too plain to all, his
faculties were lost by it. Poor Mrs. Thrale worked
like a servant : she lighted the fire with her own
hands, — took the bellows, and made such a one as
might have roasted an ox in ten minutes. But I
will not dwell on particulars : — after dinner Mr.
Thrale grew better ; and for the rest of our journey
was sleepy and mostly silent.

448 DIARY AND LETTERS OF

1780

It was late in the night when we got to Streatham.
Mrs. Thrale consulted me what to do : — I was for
a physician immediately ; but Miss Thrale opposed
that, thinking it would do harm to alarm her father
by such a step. However, Mrs. Thrale ordered
the butler to set off by six the next morning for
Dr. Heberden and Mr. Seward.

The next morning, however, he was greatly
better, and when they arrived he was very angry ;
but I am sure it was right. Dr. Heberden ordered
nothing but cupping. Mr. Seward was very good
and friendly, and spent five days here, during all
which Mr. Thrale grew better. Dr. Johnson, you
know, came with my dear father the Thursday
after our return.

You cannot, I think, have been surprised that
I gave up my plan of going to town immediately :
indeed I had no heart to leave either Mr. Thrale in
a state so precarious, or his dear wife in an agitation
of mind hardly short of a fever.

Things now went on tolerably smooth, and Miss
Thrale and I renewed our Latin exercises with Dr.
Johnson, and with great eclat of praise. At another
time I could have written much of him and of Mr.
Seward, for many very good conversations past ;
but now I have almost forgot all about them.

The Tuesday following I received your kind
letter, and instances to return on Thursday with
my father, — but I determined to take no measures
either way till I saw how matters went at the last.

The next day I was far from well, as my dear
father must have told you, — and I got worse and
worse, and I could not go down to dinner ; but in
the evening, being rather better, I just popt down
to play one rubber with dear Mr. Thrale, whose
health I have truly at heart, and who is only to be
kept from a heavy and profound sleep by cards :
and then I was glad to come back, being again

1780 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 449

worse : — but let me add, I had insisted on perform-
ing this feat.

I had a miserable night, — I kept my bed all day,
and my ever sweet Mrs. Thrale nursed me most
tenderly, letting me take nothing but from herself.

I will say no more about the illness, but that it
was short, though rather violent. On Saturday, as
I got into Mrs. Thrale's dressing-room to dinner,
Dr. Johnson visited me. On Sunday, Mr. Murphy
came to dinner ; and in the evening begged that he
might be admitted to ask me how I did. I was
rather bundled up, to be sure, with cloaks, etc.,
but could not well refuse ; so he and Mr. Thrale,
lady and daughter, all came together.

He appeared in high flash ; took my hand, and
insisted on kissing it ; and then he entered into a
mighty gay, lively, droll, and agreeable conversa-
tion,— running on in flighty compliments, highly
seasoned with wit, till he diverted and put us all
into spirits. But Mrs. Thrale, who was fearful I
should be fatigued, found no little difficulty to get
him away ; he vowed he would not go, — said she
might, and all of them, but for his part, he desired
not to budge, — and, at last, when by repeated
remonstrances he was made retreat, he vowed he
would come again.

As soon as their tea was over below stairs, Dr.
Johnson came to make me a visit, and while he
was with me, I heard Mr. Murphy's step about the
adjoining rooms, not knowing well his way ; and
soon after in he bolted, crying out, " They would
fain have stopped me, but here I am ! "

However, I have no time to write what passed,
except that he vowed when he came next he would
read the rest of my play. However, I shall bring
it with me to town, and hide it.

The next day, Monday, he left us ; and Lady
Ladd came. She sat upstairs with me the whole
vol. i 2 G

450 DIARY AND LETTERS OF nso

morning, and she has been saying such shocking
things of her apprehensions for my dear Mr. Thrale,
that they have quite overset me, being already
weaker by the fever : and just now, unluckily, Mrs.
Thrale came in suddenly, and found me in so low-
spirited a situation that she insisted on knowing the
cause. I could not tell her, but hinted that Lady
L., who was just gone down, had been talking
dismally, and she immediately concluded it was
concerning Sir John. I am sure she wondered at
my prodigious susceptibility, as she well might ;
but I preferred passing for half an idiot to telling
her what I cannot even tell you of Lady L.'s
shocking and terrifying speeches.

Miss F. Burney to Dr. Burney

Streatham, Saturday Morning, 2 o'clock.

My dearest Sir — We have this moment
finished the Critic} I have been extremely well
entertained with it indeed. The first act seems as
full of wit, satire, and spirit as it is of lines. For
the rest, I have not sufficiently attended to the
plays of these degenerate days to half enjoy or
understand the censure or ridicule meant to be
lavished on them. However, I could take in
enough to be greatly diverted at the flighty
absurdities, so well, though so severely pointed
out.

Our dear master came home to-day quite as
well as you saw him yesterday. He is in good
spirits and good humour, but I think he looks
sadly. So does our Mrs. T., who agitates herself
into an almost perpetual fever.

Adieu, my dearest sir : a thousand thanks for
this treat. Dr. Johnson is very gay and sociable

1 Sheridan's Critic, printed at this time, but unpublished [Mrs. Barrett's
note].

1780 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 451

and comfortable, and quite as kind to me as ever ;
and he says, the Bodleian librarian has but done
his duty,1 and that when he goes to Oxford, he
will write my name in the books, and my age when
I writ them, and sign the whole with his own ; " and
then," he says, "the world may know that we

" So mixed our studies, and so joined our fame.2

For we shall go down hand in hand to posterity ! "
Mrs. T. sends her best love. I don't know when
I can leave her, but not, unless you desire it, till
Mr. T. seems better established in health, or till
Mrs. Davenant can come hither.

Mr. Seward is now here. Once more, dearest sir,
good -night — says your dutiful and most affec-
tionate F. B.

Miss F. Burney to Mrs. Thrale

Chessington, Nov. 4.

I never managed matters so adroitly before.
Here I am already. My brother most good-
naturedly offered to convoy me immediately ; my
father consented ; and the murmuring of the rest,
though " more comfortable to me than the buzzing
of hornets and wasps," was yet of no avail to retard
me. I was sorry indeed to leave them all so soon,
but as my six weeks here were destined and pro-
mised, it is better to have them over before I
pretend to be settled at home — at either home,
may I say ?

As I spent only one day in town, I gave it
wholly to my sisters, and they to me ; and in the
morning we had by chance such a meeting as we

1 The Bodleian librarian had placed Evelina in his noble library, to the
author's astonished delight [Note by F. B.].

2 Pope's Epistle to Jervas, 1727, line 9. Pope writes the last word
"name."

452 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

have not had before for very many years. My two
brothers, Susan, and Charlotte, and myself, were
of course at home, and Hetty accidentally coming
to town, called in while we were all at breakfast.
I ran upstairs, and dragged my father down out
of the study, to see once more all together his
original progeny, and when he came, he called out
" Offspring ! can you dance ? " 1

We were soon, however, again dispersed ; but
the evening also was concluded with equal demon-
strations of joy. My mother happened to be
engaged to the Kirwans, and Charles, Susan, Char-
lotte and I were not very dolefully drinking our
tea, when the parlour door was opened, and in
entered Pacchierotti, who stayed all the evening.
Again we flew to the study, and again hauled down
my father, and I believe I need hardly tell you the
time hung not very heavily upon our hands.

Pacchierotti inquired very much after "my so
great favourite Mrs. Thrale." He is much more
embarrassed in speaking English than he was, but
understands it more readily and perfectly than ever.
He sung to us one air from JEzio,2 and his voice is
more clear and sweet than I ever heard it before.
I made but little inquiry about the opera, as I was
running away from it, and wanted not to be tempted
to stay. My father invited him in your name to
Streatham, but I charged him by no means to go
in my absence. Little Bertoni was with him.3

I had no other adventure in London, but a most
delightful incident has happened since I came
hither. We had just done tea on Friday, and
Mrs. Hamilton, Kitty, Jem, and Mr. Crisp, were
sitting down to cards, when we were surprised
by an express from London, and it brought a

1 See post, Miss Burney to Mrs. Phillips, March 19, 1782.

2 An opera by Metastasio, 1728.

3 Probably a son of the composer. See ante, p. 155.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 453

"Whereas we think fit" from the Admiralty, to
appoint Captain Burney to the command of the
Latona, during the absence of the Honourable
Captain Conway. This is one of the best frigates
in the navy, of thirty-eight guns, and immediately,
I believe, ready for service. Jem was almost frantic
with ecstasy of joy ; he sang, laughed, drank to his
own success, and danced about the room with Miss
Kitty till he put her quite out of breath. His hope
is to get out immediately, and have a brush with
some of the Dons, Monsieurs, or Mynheers, while
he is in possession of a ship of sufficient force to
attack any frigate he may meet.

Adieu, dearest madam. I know you will approve
my manoeuvre in so quickly getting here, because
so much the sooner again at Streatham you will
see your F. B.

This moment enters our parson with your letter.
How kind of you to write even before you received
my scrawl from St. Martin's Street ! We had
heard nothing of any earthquake when I came
away. Have you heard from Lyons ?

Miss F. Burney to Mrs. Thrale

St. Martin's Street, Dec. 14.

Three days only have I left dear Streatham, and
I feel as if I had neither seen or heard of it as
many months. Gratify me, dearest madam, with
a few lines to tell me how you all do, for I am half
uneasy, and quite impatient for intelligence. Does
the card system flourish ? — Does Dr. Johnson
continue gay and good-humoured, and "valuing
nobody " in a morning ? — Is Miss Thrale steady in
asserting that all will do perfectly well ? — But most
I wish to hear whether our dear master is any

454 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mo

better in spirit ? — And whether my sweet Dottoressa
perseveres in supporting and exerting her own ?

I never returned to my own home so little
merrily disposed as this last time. When I parted
with my master, I wished much to have thanked
him for all the kindness he has so constantly shown
me, but I found myself too grave for the purpose ;
however, I meant, when I parted with you, to make
myself amends by making a speech long enough for
both ; but then I was yet less able ; and thus it is
that some or other cross accident for ever frustrates
my rhetorical designs.

Adieu, my dearest madam. Pray give my affec-
tionate respects to Mr. Thrale and Dr. Johnson,
my love to Miss Thrale, and compliments to your
doves, — and pray believe me, ever and ever,

F. B.

Mrs. Thrale to Miss F. Burney

Streatham, Dec. 22, 1780.

My lovely Burney will believe that I have lost
the use of my fingers, or that I never employ them
in writing to her but when they are shaking with
agony. The truth is, all goes well, and so I quiet
my mind and quarrel with my maids — for one must
have something to do.

Now I have picked up something to please you ;
Dr. Johnson pronounced an actual eulogium upon
Captain Burney, to his yesterday's listeners — how
amiable he was, and how gentle in his manner, etc.,
tho' he had lived so many years with sailors and
savages.

This I know is a good thing ; the only bad part
is, that my good word will now be of less import-
ance to him, and I had a great mind to court him
out of a share of his good opinion and kindness :
but I'll try at it yet whenever I come to town.

1780 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 455

Dr. Burney brought my master a nice companion
t'other morning ; he was quite happy, and applauded
her schemes of education — just like a man who
never heard how the former ones succeeded. I
thought like old Croaker — heaven send us all the
better for them this time three years ! 1

What a noodle I was to get no franks for
Chessington ! and now all the members are dispersed
over the globe, till the hanging Lord George
Gordon shall call them together again : he is to be
hanged sure enough.

Sir R. Jebb is leaving us, just in the manner of
a hen who is quitting her chickens — he leaves us
by degrees, and makes long intervals now, short
visits, etc. Dear creature, how I adore him ! and
what praises have I coaxed Mrs. Montagu out of
to please him. He'll value those more than mine
— a rogue !

The Parkers were here yesterday, and sate whole
hours, and told all their terrors in the riot season,
etc., besides an adventure of a trunk cut from

behind a post-chaise, which lasted Oh, I

thought I should have died no other death than
that trunk would have given me.

I suppose you gather from all this that Mr.
Thrale dines below, plays at cards, etc., for so he
does, and makes all the haste to be well that mortal
man can make.

Tell Mr. Crisp that your friend is a whimsical
animal enough, but that she loves her friends, and
her friends' friends, and him of course : and tell the
Captain that I had a lady here last Saturday, and
could think of nothing for chat so well as the dis-
coveries in the South Seas, and his kindness in
giving Hester some rarities from thence, which
she produced — that the lady made the following

1 An untextual quotation from Act I. of Goldsmith's Qood-Natur'd
Man.

456 DIARY AND LETTERS mo

reflection on what she saw and heard — "Why,
madam," said she, " I have been thinking all this
while how happy a thing it is that when some parts
of the world wear out and go to decay, Captain
Burney should find out new ones to supply their
places, and serve instead." All this with perfect
innocence of all meaning whatsoever.

Adieu, dearest, loveliest Burney ! Write to me
kindly, think of me partially, come to me willingly,
and dream of me if you will ; for I am, as you well
know, ever yours, H. L. T.

Sir fcuvU. KrymMl p<nr

-from cbjfirirub In/ Ujarto-t 'o'z it
a/ti'r M ci/n (ytdid

PART X
1781

Correspondence between Miss Burney and Mrs. Thrale —
Merlin — His mill to grind old ladies young — Dr.
Johnson — Bartolozzi — An Owhyhee dress — Conversazione
— Characters — Mrs. Montagu — Dinner at Mrs. Thrale' s
— Lord Sheffield — Lord John Clinton — Two beauties
and a fright — Mrs. Carter — Webber's South Sea drawings
— Curious fans — The Duchess of Devonshire — Sir Joshua
Reynolds — A dinner party — A character — Sudden death of
Mr. Thrale — Correspondence between Mr. Crisp and Miss
Burney — The Three Warnings — Diary resumed — Visitors —
Misconceptions — A dinner party — A quarrel — Perseverance
and obstinacy — Reconciliation — Sale of Mr. Thrale's brewery
— Mr. Barclay, the rich Quaker — Dr. Johnson — Newspaper
scandal — A poor artist — An odd adventure — Anecdote of
Dr. Johnson — Sitting for one's portrait — Visit to Streatham
— A subject for Harry Bunbury — The wits at war — Johnson's
Life of Lord Lyttelton — Singular scene — Johnson in a savage
fit — A peace-maker — Merlin, the mechanician.

Mrs. Thrale to Miss F. Burney

Streatham, Thursday, January 4.

Don't I pick up franks prettily ? I sent a
hundred miles for this, and the churl enclosed but
one — "certain that Miss Burney could not live
long enough away from me to need two." Ah,
cruel Miss Burney ! she will never come again, I
think.

Well ! but I did see Phillips written in that

457

458 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mi

young man's honest face, though nobody pro-
nounced the word ; and I boldly bid him " Good
morrow, Captain" at the door, trusting to my own
instinct when I came away. Your sweet father,
however, this day trusted me with the whole secret,
and from my heart do I wish every comfort and
joy from the match.1

'Tis now high time to tell you that the pictures
are come home, all but mine, — which my master
don't like.2 He has ordered your father to sit
to-morrow, in his peremptory way ; 3 and I shall
have the dear Doctor every morning at breakfast.
I took ridiculous pains to tutor him to-day, and to
insist, in my peremptory way, on his forbearing to
write or read late this evening, that my picture
might not have blood-shot eyes.

Merlin 4 has been here to tune the fortepianos.5
He told Mrs. Davenant6 and me that he had
thoughts of inventing a particular mill to grind
old ladies young, as he was so prodigiously fond

1 The approaching marriage of Susan Burney to Captain Molesworth
Phillips of the Marines (one of James Burney's comrades on Cook's last
voyage), which took place at the beginning of 1782 (see post, vol. ii.
letter of March 19, 1782).

2 No doubt the double picture of Mrs. Thrale and Queenie, which
afterwards hung over the fireplace in the Library at Streatham. The
lady liked it no better than her husband. "There is really no re-
semblance," she said, " and the character is less like my father's
daughter than Pharaoh's."

3 For his portrait for the Thrale Gallery. It now belongs to Arch-
deacon Burney. It was bought at the Thrale sale of May 1816, by
Dr. Burney's son, Dr. Charles Burney of Greenwich, for £84 (Piozziana,
1833, p. 51).

4 John Joseph Merlin, 1735-1803, a popular French mechanician and
pianoforte maker, at this date the rage in London, where everything for
a time was a la Merlin. He had come to England in 1760 ; and in
1768-73, he was Director of Cox's Museum in Spring Gardens. After-
wards he had an exhibition of automata etc. in Prince's Street, Hanover
Square, which was known as "Merlin's Cave." Gainsborough painted
him (see post, under June 16), and the portrait was among the artist's last
exhibited works.

5 Pianofortes, i.e. harpsichords with hammers, had only recently
appeared in England ; and " Daddy " Crisp is credited with the receipt
of the first which had been made by an English monk at Rome. Crisp
sold it to Fulke Greville for 100 guineas (Early Diary, 1889, i. liv.).

6 Mrs. Davenant, of Red Lion Square, hereafter described as "one of
the saucy women of the tow," was a Cotton, and Mrs. Thrale's cousin.

1781 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 459

of their company. I suppose he thought we should
bring grist Was that the way to put people in
tune ? I asked him.

Doctor Burney says your letters and mine are
alike, and that it comes by writing so incessantly
to each other. I feel proud and pleased, and
find I shall slip pretty readily into the Susan-
nuccia's place, when she goes to settle on her
£700 a-year ; of which God give her joy seven
hundred times over, dear creature ! I never knew
how it was to love an incognita but Susan Burney :
my personal acquaintance with her is actually
nothing — is it ? — and yet we always seem to
understand one another. H. L. T.

Mrs. Thrale to Miss F. Burney

Streatham, Thursday, 11th.

I never was so glad of a letter from you before :
the dear Doctor had been in the room just half-
an-hour, and had frighted me with an account of
your fever. Thank God there is no harm come to
my sweet little friend ; her spirits and her affection
are as strong as ever, for all Dr. Johnson, — who
says nobody loves each other much when they
have been parted long. How well do you know
him, and me, and all of us, — and talk of my
penetration !

Your father sits for his picture in the Doctor of
music's gown ; and Bartolozzi makes an engraving
from it to place at the head of the book.1 Sir
Joshua delights in the portrait, and says 'twill be
the best among them. I hope it will ; and by this
time, perhaps, you may have begun thinking of the
miniature too ; but it is not touched yet, I assure
you. Sweet Susannuccia ! I will slide into her
place ; I shall get more of your company, too, and

1 The second volume of the History of Music, which appeared in 1782.

460 DIARY AND LETTERS OF uu

more — is there any more to be had ? — of your con-
fidence. Yes, yes, there is a little, to be sure ; but
dear Mrs. Thrale shall have it all now. Oh, 'tis an
excellent match ! and he has £700 a-year — that is,
he will have : it is entailed, and irrevocable.

I send this by your father, who will put it in
the post ; not a frank to-day for love or money.
I did not intend to having written so soon. He
and I shall meet at St. James's this day sennight.
The Owhyhee * is to be trimmed with grebeskins
and gold to the tune of £65 — the trimming only.
What would I give to show it to you ! — or show
you anything, for that matter, that would show
how affectionately I am yours !

Dr. Burney says you carry bird-lime in your
brains, for everything that lights there sticks.
I think you carry it in your heart, and that mine
sticks very close to it. So adieu ! H. L. T.

Mrs. Thrale to Miss Burney

Grosvenor Square, Tuesday, Feb. 7, 1781.

This moment Dick Burney tells me how ill you
are. My dear, how shall I keep from stepping
into a post-chaise, and sousing through Gascoyne
Lane to look after you ? Complicated as my
engagements are, between business and flash, I
shall certainly serve you so, if you do not make
haste and be well.

Yesterday I had a conversazione. Mrs. Mon-
tagu was brilliant in diamonds, solid in judgment,
critical in talk. Sophy smiled, Piozzi sung,2

1 Mrs. Thrale had a court dress woven at Spitalfields, from a pattern
of Owhyhee manufacture, brought thence by Captain Burney [Mrs.
Barrett's note]. A letter from Susan Burney, dated January 19, 1781
(Early Diary, 1889, ii. 267), refers to this costume.

2 When Mrs. Thrale was at Brighton in 1780, Miss Burney had
recommended Signor Piozzi to her by letter as " a man likely to lessen
the burden of life to her" (Autobiography, etc. 1861, i. 147, and ii. 49).

1781 THE AUTHOR OF ' EVELINA' 461

Pepys panted with admiration, Johnson was good-
humoured, Lord John Clinton attentive, Dr.
Bowdler lame, and my master not asleep. Mrs.
Ord looked elegant, Lady Rothes dainty, Mrs.
Davenant dapper, and Sir Philip's1 curls were all
blown about by the wind. Mrs. Byron rejoices
that her Admiral and I agree so well ; the way
to his heart is connoisseurship it seems, and for a
background and contorno, who comes up to Mrs.
Thrale, you know.

Captain Fuller flashes away among us. How
that boy loves rough merriment ! the people all
seem to keep out of his way for fear.

Aunt Cotton died firmly persuaded that Mrs.
Davenant was a natural, and that I wrote her
letters for her — how odd !

Many people said she was the prettiest woman
in the room last night, — and that is as odd;
Augusta Byron, and Sophy Streatfield, and Mrs.
HinchlifFe,2 being present.

Mrs. Montagu talked to me about you for an
hour t'other day, and said she was amazed that so
delicate a girl could write so boisterous a book.

Loveliest Burney, be as well as ever you can,
pray do. When you are with me, I think I love
you from habit ; when you are from me, I fancy
distance endears you : be that as it may, your own
father can alone love you better, or wish you
better, or desire the sight of you more sincerely,
than does your H. L. T.

Dr. Johnson is very good and very clubbable,
but Sir R. Jebb is quite a scourge to me. Who
now would believe that I cannot make a friend
of that man, but am forced to fly to Dr. Pepys 3

1 Sir Philip Jennings Clerke.

2 Perhaps the wife of the Bishop of Peterborough, nee Elizabeth
Crewe.

3 Sir Lucas Pepys, 1742-1830, was not created a baronet until 1784.

462 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mi

for comfort ? He is so haughty, so impracticable
a creature ; and yet I esteem and honour him,
though I cannot make him feel anything towards
me but desire of downing, etc.

MlSS BlJRNEY TO MRS. THRALE

Chessington, February 8, 1781.

This moment have two sweet and most kind
letters from my best -loved Mrs. Thrale made
amends for no little anxiety which her fancied
silence had given me. I know not what is now
come to this post ; but there is nothing I can
bear with so little patience as being tricked out of
any of your letters. They do, indeed, give me
more delight than I can express ; they seem to
me the perfection of epistolary writing ; for, in Dr.
Johnson's phrase, all that is not kindness is wit,
p- and all that is not wit is kindness.

What you tell me of Mrs. Montagu and Mrs.
Carter gives me real concern ; it is a sort of general
disgrace to us ; but, as you say, it shall have
nothing to do with you and I. Mrs. Montagu,
as we have often agreed, is a character rather to
respect than love, for she has not that don d" aimer
by which alone love can be made fond or faith-
ful ; and many as are the causes by which respect
may be lessened, there are very few by which
it can be afterwards restored to its first dignity.
But where there is real affection, the case is
exactly reversed ; few things can weaken, and
/| every trifle can revive it.

Yet not for forty years, in this life at least,
shall we continue to love each other ; I am very
sure I, for one, shall never last half that time.
If you saw but how much the illness of a week
has lowered and injured me, considering in what
perfect health I came hither, you would be half

1781 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 463

astonished ; and that in spite of the utmost care
and attention from every part of this kind family.
I have just, with great difficulty, escaped a re-
lapse, from an unfortunate fresh cold with which
I am at this time struggling. Long last you,
dearest madam ! — I am sure in the whole world I
know not such another.

I think I shall always hate this book1 which
has kept me so long away from you, as much as I
shall always love Evelina, who first comfortably
introduced me to you ; an event which I may
truly say opened a new, and, I hope, an exhaust-
less source of happiness to your most gratefully
affectionate F. B.

Journal resumed

(Addressed to Mr. Crisp.)

March 23, 1781. — I have very narrowly escaped
a return of the same vile and irksome fever which
with such difficulty has been conquered, and that
all from vexation. Last week I went to dinner
in Grosvenor Square.2 I ran upstairs, as usual,
into Mrs. Thrale's dressing-room, and she there
acquainted me that Mr. Thrale had resolved upon
going abroad : first to Spa, next to Italy, and then
whither his fancy led him ! that Dr. Johnson was
to accompany them, but that, as their journey was
without limit either of time or place, as Mr.
Thrale's ill state of health and strange state of
mind would make it both melancholy and alarm-
ing, she could not in conscience think of taking
me from my own friends and country without
knowing either whither, or for what length of time.

1 Cecilia ; or. Memoirs of an Heiress — upon which Miss Burney was
then engaged (see ante, pp. 312 and 344).

2 This was a furnished house, taken by advice of Thrale's doctors.

464 DIARY AND LETTERS OF irsi

She would write to me, however, every post ;
leave me the keys of all she left of any value,
and, in case of any evil to herself, make me her
executrix !

Oh, what words ! and what a scheme ! I was
so infinitely shocked, surprised, and grieved, that
I was forced to run away from her, and insist upon
hearing no more ; neither could I sufficiently
recover even to appear at dinner, as Dr. Johnson,
Mr. Seward, and Mr. Ingram, were of the party ;
I was obliged, therefore, to shut myself up all the
afternoon.

You will not, I am sure, wonder that I should
be utterly disconcerted and afflicted by a plan so
wild in itself, and so grievous to me. I was,
indeed, hardly able to support myself with any
firmness all day ; and unfortunately, there was
in the evening a great rout. I was then obliged
to appear, and obliged to tell everybody I was but
half recovered from my late indisposition.

The party was very large, and the company
very brilliant. I was soon encircled by acquaint-
ances, and forced to seem as gay as my neighbours.
My steady companions were Miss Coussmaker,1
Augusta Byron, Miss Ord, and Miss Thrale ; and
the S. S. never quits me.

I had a long conversation with the new Lord
Sheffield ; and, as I had never seen him since he
was Colonel Holroyd,2 I was ridiculously enough
embarrassed with his new title, blundering from my
lord to sir, and from sir to my lord. He gave me
a long account of his Coventry affairs, and of the
commitment of the sheriffs to Newgate. He is a
spirited and agreeable man, and, I doubt not, will
make himself conspicuous in the right way. Lady

1 See ante, p. 33 n.

2 Gibbon's friend, John Baker Holroyd, 1735-1821, a colonel of
dragoons, who had just been created an Irish baron (Baron Sheffield of
Dunamore, Co. Meath). He became Earl of Sheffield in 1802.

1781 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 465

Sheffield 1 was also very civil ; and, as she came
second, I was better prepared, and therefore gave
her ladyship her title with more readiness ; which
was lucky enough, for I believe she would much
less have liked the omission.

Mrs. Thrale took much pains to point out her
friend Lord John Clinton to me, and me to
him : he is extremely ugly, but seems lively and
amiable.

The greatest beauty in the room, except the
S. S., was Mrs. Gwynn, lately Miss Horneck;2
and the greatest fright was Lord Sandys.3

I have time for nothing more about this evening,
which, had not my mind been wholly and sadly
occupied by other matters, would have been very
agreeable to me.

The next day I again spent in Grosvenor
Square, where nothing new had passed about this
cruel journey. I then met a very small party,
consisting only of Mrs. Price, who was a Miss
Evelyn, Miss Benson, Dr. Johnson, and Mrs.
Carter.

The latter, as there were so few folks, talked a
good deal, and was far more sociable and easy than
I had yet seen her. Her talk, too, though all upon
books (for life and manners she is as ignorant of
as a nun), was very unaffected and good-humoured,
and I liked her exceedingly. Mrs. Price is a very
sensible, shrewd, lofty, and hard-headed woman.
Miss Benson not very unlike her.

Tuesday. — I passed the whole day at Sir Joshua
Reynolds's with Miss Palmer, who, in the morning,
took me to see some most beautiful fans, painted
by Poggi, from designs of Sir Joshua, Angelica,
West, and Cipriani, on leather ; they are, indeed,

1 Abigail, first Lady Sheffield. She had been a Miss Way. She died
April 3, 1793.

2 See ante, p. 171.

3 Edwin Sandys, second Baron, d. 1801.

VOL. I 2 H

466 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mi

more delightful than can well be imagined : one
was bespoke by the Duchess of Devonshire, for
a present to some woman of rank in France, that
was to cost £30.

We were accompanied by Mr. Eliot, the knight
of the shire for Cornwall, a most agreeable, lively,
and very clever man.

We then went to Mr. Webber's, to see his
South Sea drawings.1 Here we met Captain
King,2 who chiefly did the honours in showing the
curiosities and explaining them. He is one of the
most natural, gay, honest, and pleasant characters
I ever met with. We spent all the rest of the
morning here, much to my satisfaction. The
drawings are extremely well worth seeing ; they
consist of views of the country of Otaheite, New
Zealand, New Amsterdam, Kamschatka, and parts
of China ; and portraits of the inhabitants done
from the life.

When we returned to Leicester Fields we were
heartily welcomed by Sir Joshua. Mr. Eliot
stayed the whole day ; and no other company came
but Mr. Webber, who was invited to tea. Sir
Joshua is fat and well. He is preparing for the
Exhibition a new " Death of Dido " ; portraits of
the three beautiful Lady Waldegraves, Horatia,
Laura, and Maria, all in one picture, and at work
with the tambour ; 3 a Thais, for which a Miss
Emily, a celebrated courtesan, sat, at the desire
of the Hon. Charles Greville ; 4 and what others

1 John Webber, 1750-93, landscape painter, and draughtsman on
Cook's third voyage, 1776-80. His coloured etchings were published
1787-92.

2 James King, 1750-84, accompanied Cook as astronomer and second
lieutenant in 1776, and prepared the journal of his third voyage for the
press.

3 All these pictures, with eleven others, were exhibited in 1781 (see
post, p. 491). Walpole's nieces cost him 800 guineas (Walpoliana, 1799, ii.
157). Horatia married Lord Hugh Seymour ; Laura, Viscount Chewton ;
and Maria, the Earl of Euston.

4 Opinions are divided whether this lady's surname was Bertie, Pott,

1781 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 467

I know not : but his room and gallery are both
crowded.

Thursday. — I spent the whole day again in
Grosvenor Square, where there was a very gay
party to dinner ; Mr. Boswell,1 Dudley Long, Mr.

Adair, Dr. Delap, Mr. B ,2 Dr. Johnson, and

my father ; and much could I write of what passed,

if it were possible for me to get time. Mr. B

was just as absurdly pompous as at Brighton ; and,
in the midst of dinner, without any sort of intro-
duction, or reason, or motive, he called out aloud, —

" Sweet are the slumbers of the charming maid ! " 3

A laugh from all parties, as you may imagine,
followed this exclamation ; and he bore it with
amazing insensibility.

" What's all this laugh for ? " cried Dr. Johnson,
who had not heard the cause.

"Why, sir," answered Mrs. Thrale, when she

was able to speak, "Mr. B just now called

out, — nobody knows why, — 'Sweet are the slumbers
of the virtuous maid ! ' "

"No, no, not virtuous" cried Mr. Boswell, "he
said charming ; he thought that better ! "

"Ay, sure, sir," cried Mr. B , unmoved;

" for why say virtuous ? — can we doubt a fair
female's virtue ? — oh fie, oh fie ! 'tis a superfluous
epithet."

" But," cried Mrs. Thrale, " in the original it is
the virtuous man ; why do you make it a maid of
the sudden, Mr. B ? "

or Coventry. Northcote maintained that the picture represented a Miss
Emiiy Coventry, who had been painted as far back as 1776. In this case,
it must have been finished in 1781 for Greville, who gave 100 guineas
for it.

1 Boswell makes no special mention of this dinner ; and this, appar-
ently, is Miss Burney's first reference to Boswell, whom she must have
met before at Streatham. See Appendix, p. 509.

2 See ante, p. 292.

3 Addison's Cato, Act V. Scene iv. The last two words should be
*' virtuous man," as corrected by Mrs. Thrale.

468 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mi

" I was alarmed at first," cried Dr. Delap, " and
thought he had caught Miss Burney napping ; but
when I looked at her, and saw her awake, I was at
a loss, indeed, to find the reason of the change."

" Here, sir ! my lad ! " cried Mr. B to the

servant ; " why, my head's on fire ! What ! have
you got never a screen ? Why, I shall be what
you may call a hot-headed fellow ! I shall be a
mere roti \ "

In the afternoon we were joined by Mr.
Crutchley, Mr. Byron, and Mr. Selwin ; and then
we had a thousand private conferences and con-
sultations concerning the Spa journey.

I have been so often and so provokingly inter-
rupted in writing this, that I must now finish it by
lumping matters at once. Sir Bichard Jebb and
Dr. Pepys have both been consulted concerning
this going abroad, and are both equally violent
against it, as they think it even unwarrantable, in
such a state of health as Mr. Thrale's ; and, there-
fore, it is settled that a great meeting of his friends
is to take place before he actually prepares for the
journey, and they are to encircle him in a body,
and endeavour, by representations and entreaties,
to prevail with him to give it up ; and I have little
doubt myself but, amongst us, we shall be able to
succeed.

Miss F. Burney to Mrs. Thrale1

Wednesday Evening {April 4].

You bid me write to you, and so I will ; you
bid me pray for you, and so, indeed, I do, for the

This letter was written in reply to a few words from Mrs. Thrale, in
which, alluding to her husband's sudden death, she begs Miss Burney to
" write to me— pray for me ! " The hurried note from Mrs. Thrale is thus
endorsed by Miss Burney : — " Written a few hours after the death of Mr.
Thrale, which happened by a sudden stroke of apoplexy, on the morning
of a day [April 4, 1781] on which half the fashion of London had been
invited to an intended assembly at his house in Grosvenor Square " [Mrs.
Barrett's

1781 THE AUTHOR OF ' EVELINA' 469

restoration of your sweet peace of mind. I pray
for your resignation to this hard blow, for the
continued union and exertion of your virtues with
your talents, and for the happiest reward their
exertion can meet with, in the gratitude and
prosperity of your children. These are my prayers
for my beloved Mrs. Thrale ; but these are not my
only ones ; no, the unfailing warmth of her kind-
ness for myself I have rarely, for a long time past,
slept without first petitioning.

I ran away without seeing you again when I
found you repented that sweet compliance with
my request which I had won from you. For the
world would I not have pursued you, had I first
seen your prohibition, nor could I endure to owe
that consent to teasing which I only solicited from
tenderness. Still, however, I think you had better
have suffered me to follow you ; I might have been
of some use ; I hardly could have been in your
way. But I grieve now to have forced you to an
interview which I would have spared myself as well
as you, had I foreseen how little it would have
answered my purpose.

Yet though I cannot help feeling disappointed, I
am not surprised ; for in any case at all similar, I am
sure I should have the same eagerness for solitude.

I tell you nothing of how sincerely I sympathise
in your affliction ; yet I believe that Mr. Crutchley
and Dr. Johnson alone do so more earnestly ;
and I have some melancholy comfort in flattering
myself that, allowing for the difference of our
characters, that true regard which I felt was as
truly returned. Nothing but kindness did I ever
meet with ; he ever loved to have me, not merely
with his family, but with himself ; and gratefully
shall I ever remember a thousand kind expressions
of esteem and good opinion, which are now crowd-
ing upon my memory.

470 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mi

Ah, dearest madam ! you had better have
accepted me ; I am sure, if unfit for you, I am at
this time unfit for everybody. Adieu, and Heaven
preserve my heart's dearest friend ! Don't torment
yourself to write to me, nor will I even ask Queeny,
though she is good, and I believe would not deny
me ; but what can you say but that you are sad
and comfortless ? and do I not know that far too
well ? I will write again to you, and a thousand
times again, for nothing am I more truly than
your F. B.

Miss F. Burney to Mrs. Thrale

Saturday, April 6.

I would I had some commission, some business,
some pretence for writing to my best-loved friend ;
for write I must, while I have the faintest hope my
letters will be received without aversion. Yet I
have nothing on earth to say, but how much I love
and how truly I am grieved for her. To you,
dearest madam, I can offer nothing by way of
comfort or consolation, whatever I might do to
many others ; but what could I urge which you
have not a thousand times revolved in your own
mind ? Dr. Johnson alone could offer anything
new, or of strength to deserve attention from
Mrs. Thrale. The rectitude and purity of your
principles, both religious and moral, I have often
looked up to with reverence, and I now no more
doubt their firmness in this time of trial than if I
witnessed their operation. Queeny, too, I saw was
bent upon exerting the utmost fortitude upon this
first, and I believe, indeed, most painful occasion
to her that could call for it. May she now for her
sweet mother unite all the affection and attention
which hitherto have deserved to be divided !

Many friends call and send here to inquire after

1781 THE AUTHOR OF ' EVELINA' 471

you ; but I have myself avoided them all. I
cannot yet bear the conversation which is to follow
every meeting. To be with you I would wrap
myself up in misery ; but, without such a motive,
no one more hasty to run away from all that is
possible to be fled from.

Dr. Johnson, I hear, is well. I hear nothing
else I have any wish to communicate.

Adieu, most dear madam ; and still love, when
you have time and composure to again think of her,
the sincerest, the gratefulest, the fondest of your
friends, in F. B. who, though she first received
your affection as an unmerited partiality, hopes
never to forfeit, and perhaps some time to deserve
it.

I do not even request an answer ; I scarce wish
for it ; because I know what it must be. But I
will write again in a few days. My kind love to
Miss Thrale. F. B.

Miss F. Burney to Mr. Crisp

Streatham, April 29, 1781.

Have you not, my dearest daddy, thought me
utterly lost ? and, indeed, to all power of either
giving or taking comfort, I certainly have been for
some time past. I did not, it is true, hope that
poor Mr. Thrale could live very long, as the altera-
tion I saw in him only during my absence while
with you had shocked and astonished me. Yet,
still the suddenness of the blow gave me a horror
from which I am not even now recovered. The
situation of sweet Mrs. Thrale, added to the true
concern I felt at his loss, harassed my mind till it
affected my health, which is now again in a state of
precariousness and comfortless restlessness that will
require much trouble to remedy.

You have not, I hope, been angry at my

472 DIARY AND LETTERS OF irsi

silence ; for, in truth, I have had no spirits to
write, nor, latterly, ability of any kind, from a
headache that has been incessant.

I now begin to long extremely to hear more
about yourself, and whether you have recovered
your sleep and any comfort. The good nursing
you mention is always my consolation when I have
the painful tidings of your illness ; for I have
myself experienced the kindness, care, and un-
wearied attention of the ever -good and friendly
Kitty, who, indeed, as you well say, can by no one
be excelled in that most useful and most humane
of all sciences.

Mrs. Thrale flew immediately upon this mis-
fortune to Brighthelmstone, to Mr. Scrase1 — her
Daddy Crisp — both for consolation and counsel ;
and she has but just quitted him, as she deferred
returning to Streatham till her presence was indis-
pensably necessary upon account of proving the
will. I offered to accompany her to Brighthelm-
stone ; but she preferred being alone, as her mind
was cruelly disordered, and she saw but too plainly
I was too sincere a mourner myself to do much
besides adding to her grief. The moment, how-
ever, she came back, she solicited me to meet her,
— and I am now here with her, and endeavour, by
every possible exertion, to be of some use to her.
She looks wretchedly indeed, and is far from well ;
but she bears up, though not with calm intrepidity,
yet with flashes of spirit that rather, I fear, spend
than relieve her. Such, however, is her character,
and were this exertion repressed, she would prob-
ably sink quite.

Miss Thrale is steady and constant, and very
sincerely grieved for her father.

The four executors, Mr. Cator,2 Mr. Crutchley,

1 See ante, p. 431.

2 Mr. John Cator, a timber merchant ; afterwards M. P. for Ipswich.

1781 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 473

Mr. Henry Smith,1 and Dr. Johnson, have all
behaved generously and honourably, and seem
determined to give Mrs. Thrale all the comfort and
assistance in their power. She is to carry on the
business jointly with them. Poor soul ! it is a
dreadful toil and worry to her.

Adieu, my dearest daddy. I will write again in
a week's time. I have now just been blooded ; but
am by no means restored by that loss. But well
and ill, equally and ever, your truly affectionate
child, F. B.

Mr. Crisp to Miss F. Burney

Chessington, May 15, 1781.

My dear Fannikin — I was neither cross nor
surprised at not hearing from you so long, as I was
at no loss for the cause of your silence. I know
you have a heart, and on a late occasion can easily
imagine it was too full to attend to forms, or, indeed,
to any but the one great object immediately before
you. To say the truth, I should be sorry to have
your nature changed, for the sake of a letter or two
more or less from you ; because I can now with
confidence say to myself, " The girl is really sincere,
and, as she does profess some friendship and regard
for me, I can believe her, and am convinced that, if
any evil were to befall me, she would be truly sorry
for me."

There is a pleasure in such a thought, and I

He was a friend of Johnson, who visited him at his house at Beckenham,
and declared that there was "much good in his character, and much
usefulness in his knowledge " (Hill's Boswell, 1887, iv. 313). In a later
letter to Mrs. Thrale, he wrote, " Cator has a rough, manly, independent
understanding, and does not spoil it by complaisance ; he never speaks
merely to please, and seldom is mistaken in things which he has any
right to know" (Hill's Letters of Johnson, 1892, ii. 374). See post,
p. 500.

1 Mr Smith was a relation of Thrale.

474 DIARY AND LETTERS OF irsi

will indulge it. The steadiness and philosophy of
certain of our friends is, perhaps, to be admired ;
but I wish it not to be imitated by any of my
friends. I would have the feelings of their minds
be keen and even piercing, but stop there. Let
not the poor tenement of clay give way : — if that
goes, how shall they abide the peltings of these
pitiless storms ? 1 Your slight machine is certainly
not made for such rough encounters ; — for which
I am truly sorry. You did not make yourself;
allowed ! — agreed ! — But you may mend yourself,
and that is all I require of you.

If I had you here, I should talk to you on this
head ; but at present I ought not to wish it. Mrs.
Thrale has an undoubted right to you, nor should
I wish to tear you from her. When the wound is
healed, and nothing but the scar remaining, the
plaster ought to be removed, — and then I put in
my claim.

Let me hear from you soon that your health
and spirits are mended — greatly mended. I sin-
cerely wish the same to your beloved friend, to
whom you must present my best respects. I am
glad she is connected with such worthy people in
her affairs. I have more than once observed that
the unavoidable necessity of attending to business
of indispensable consequence, and that with strict,
unabated perseverance, has contributed more to
divert, and dissipate, and finally to cure deep
sorrow, than all the wise lessons of philosophers, or
the well-meant consolations of friends. May she
prove an instance to confirm this observation !

As for my own shattered frame, I have had a
pretty long and convincing proof that it is not
immortal. Gout, rheumatism, indigestion, want of
sleep, almost ever since I saw you, I think, may
amount pretty nearly to the sum total of Mrs.

1 King Lear, Act III. Sc. iv.

1781 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 475

Thrale's " Three Warnings." l If I don't take the
hint the fault is my own — Nature has done her
part.

Bad as I have been though, I now hobble about
the garden with a stick, and for this fortnight past
have been gradually mending, though slowly.

Ham and Kate are constantly inquiring after
you, and when you will come. I am sure they
love you, or I should not love them. Adieu, my
Fannikin. — Your affectionate daddy,

S. C.

Journal resumed

Streatham, May 1781. — Miss Owen and I
arrived here without incident, which, in a journey
of six or seven miles, was really marvellous ! Mrs.
Thrale came from the Borough with two of the
executors, Dr. Johnson and Mr. Crutchley, soon
after us. She had been sadly worried, and in the
evening frightened us all by again fainting away.
Dear creature ! she is all agitation of mind and
of body : but she is now wonderfully recovered,
though in continual fevers about her affairs, which
are mightily difficult and complicate indeed. Yet
the behaviour of all the executors is exactly to
her wish. Mr. Crutchley, in particular, was he a
darling son or only brother,2 could not possibly be
more truly devoted to her. Indeed, I am very
happy in the revolution in my own mind in favour
of this young man, whom formerly I so little liked ;
for I now see so much of him, business and inclina-
tion uniting to bring him hither continually, that
if he were disagreeable to me, I should spend my

1 This well-known tale in verse is printed at vol. ii. pp. 165-69, of Hay-
ward's Autobiography, etc. of Mrs. Piozzi {Thrale), 2nd ed. 1861. It was
originally written for the 4to vol. of Miscellanies in Prose and Verse,
published in 1766 by Johnson's friend, the blind Mrs. Williams (see ante,
pp. 50 and 169). 2 See ante, p. 133.

476 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mi

time in a most comfortless manner. On the con-
trary, I both respect and esteem him very highly ;
for his whole conduct manifests so much goodness
of heart and excellence of principle, that he is
fairly un homme comme il y en a pen ; 1 and that
first appearance of coldness, pride, reserve, and
sneering, all wears off upon further acquaintance,
and leaves behind nothing but good-humour and
good-will. And this you must allow to be very
candid, when I tell you that, but yesterday, he
affronted me so much by a piece of impertinence,
that I had a very serious quarrel with him. Of
this more anon.

Dr. Johnson was charming, both in spirits and
humour. I really think he grows gayer and gayer
daily, and more ductile and pleasant.

Mr. Crutchley stayed till Sunday, when we had
many visitors, — Mrs. Plumbe, one of poor Mr.
Thrale's sisters ; Mrs. AYallace, wife to the
Attorney-General, a very ugly, but sensible and
agreeable woman ; Sir Philip Jennings Clerke, and
Mr. Selwin.2

Monday Miss Owen left us.

Tuesday came Lord and Lady Westcote, and
afterwards Dr. and Mrs. Parker, Dr. Lort, and the
Bishop of Killaloe.3 Dr. Parker is a terrible old
proser, and wore me out ; Mrs. Parker is well-bred
and sensible ; my friend Dr. Lort was comical and
diverting ; and the Bishop of Killaloe is a gay,
sprightly, polite, and ready man : I liked him well.

1 See ante, p. 9. 2 See ante, p. 299.

3 Thomas Barnard, 1728-1806, Bishop of Killaloe and Kilfenora from
1780 to 1794. This was the Barnard who, in reply to one of Johnson's
rough boutades, wrote the charming verses on improvement after the
age of forty-five, ending : —

Let Johnson teach one how to place
In fairest light, each borrow'd grace,

From him I'll learn to write ;
Copy his clear, familiar style.
And from the roughness of his file

Grow like himself— polite.

(Northcote's Life of Reynolds, 2nd ed. 1819, i. 221.)

1781 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 477

Sunday morning nobody went to church but
Mr. Crutchley, Miss Thrale, and myself ; and some
time after, when I was sauntering upon the lawn
before the house, Mr. Crutchley joined me. We
were returning together into the house, when
Mrs. Thrale, popping her head out of her dressing-
room window, called out, " How nicely these men
domesticate among us, Miss Burney ! Why, they
take to us as natural as life ! "

"Well, well," cried Mr. Crutchley, "I have
sent for my horse, and I shall release you early
to-morrow morning. I think yonder comes Sir
Philip."

" Oh ! you'll have enough to do with him" cried
she, laughing ; " he is well prepared to plague you,
I assure you."

" Is he ?— and what about ? "

" Why, about Miss Burney. He asked me the
other day what was my present establishment.
'Mr. Crutchley and Miss Burney,' I answered.
' How well these two names go together,' cried he ;
6 1 think they can't do better than make a match
of it : / will consent, I am sure,' he added ; and
to-day, I daresay, you will hear enough of it."

I leave you to judge if I was pleased at this
stuff thus communicated ; but Mrs. Thrale, with
all her excellence, can give up no occasion of
making sport, however unseasonable, or even
painful.

" I am very much obliged to him, indeed ! "
cried I drily ; and Mr. Crutchley called out,
" Thank him ! — thank him ! " in a voice of pride
and of pique that spoke him mortally angry.

I instantly came into the house, leaving him to
talk it out with Mrs. Thrale, to whom I heard him
add, " So this is Sir Philip's kindness ! " and her
answer, " I wish you no worse luck ! "

Now, what think you of this ? was it not highly

478 DIARY AND LETTERS OF i78i

insolent ? — and from a man who has behaved to
me hitherto with the utmost deference, good
nature, and civility, and given me a thousand
reasons, by every possible opportunity, to think
myself very high indeed in his good opinion and
good graces ? But these rich men think them-
selves the constant prey of all portionless girls,
and are always upon their guard, and suspicious
of some design to take them in. This sort of
disposition I had very early observed in Mr.
Crutchley, and therefore I had been more distant
and cold with him than with anybody I ever met
with ; but latterly his character had risen so much
in my mind, and his behaviour was so much
improved, that I had let things take their own
course, and no more shunned than I sought him ;
for I evidently saw his doubts concerning me and
my plots were all at an end, and his civility and
attentions were daily increasing, so that I had
become very comfortable with him, and well
pleased with his society.

I need not, I think, add that I determined to
see as little of this most fearful and haughty
gentleman in future as was in my power, since no
good qualities can compensate for such arrogance
of suspicion ; and, therefore, as I had reason
enough to suppose he would, in haste, resume his
own reserve, I resolved, without much effort, to be
beforehand with him in resuming mine.

At dinner we had a large and most disagreeable
party of Irish ladies, whom Mrs. Thrale was
necessitated to invite from motives of business
and various connections. We were in all fourteen,
viz. Sir Philip Gierke ; Mrs. Lambart and her son,
a genteel young youth ; Miss Owen ; Mr. and
Mrs. v Perkins ; Mrs. Vincent ; Mrs. O'Riley and
Miss O'Riley, her sister-in-law ; Mr. Crutchley,
Mrs. and Miss Thrale ; and myself.

1781 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 479

I was obliged, at dinner, to be seated between
Miss O'Riley and Mr. Crutchley, to whom you
may believe I was not very courteous, especially
as I had some apprehensions of Sir Philip. Mr.
Crutchley, however, to my great surprise, was
quite as civil as ever, and endeavoured to be as
chatty ; but there I begged to be excused, only
answering upon the reply, and that very drily, for
I was indeed horribly provoked with him.

[Indeed, all his behaviour would have been
natural and good-humoured, and just what I
should have liked, had he better concealed his
chagrin at the first accusation ; but that, still
dwelling by me, made me very indifferent to what
followed, though I found he had no idea of
having displeased me, and rather sought to be
more than less sociable than usual.

I was much diverted during dinner by this
Miss O'Riley, who took it in her humour to
attack Mr. Crutchley repeatedly, though so
discouraging a beau never did I see ! Her
forwardness, and his excessive and inordinate
coldness, made a contrast that, added to her
brogue, which was broad, kept me in a grin
irrepressible.

In the afternoon, we had also Mr. Wallace, the
Attorney-General, a most squat and squab-looking
man ; * and further I saw not of him.

In the evening, when the Irish ladies, the
Perkinses, Lambarts, and Sir Philip, were gone,
Mrs. Thrale walked out with Mr. Wallace, whom
she had some business to talk over with ; and then,
when only Miss Owen, Miss T., and I remained,
Mr. Crutchley, after repeatedly addressing me, and
gaining pretty dry answers, called out suddenly,
" Why, Miss Burney ! why, what's the matter ? "

1 James Wallace, d. 1783; Solicitor - General, 1778-80; Attorney-
General, 1780-83 (see post, p. 503).

480 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mi

" Nothing."

" Why, are you stricken, or smitten, or ill ? "

" None of the three."

" Oh, then, you are setting down all these Irish
folks!"

"No, indeed, I don't think them worth the
trouble."

" Oh, but I am sure you are ; only I interrupted
you."

I went on no farther with the argument, and
Miss Thrale proposed our walking out to meet her
mother. We all agreed ; and Mr. Crutchley would
not be satisfied without walking next me, though
I really had no patience to talk with him, and
wished him at Jericho.

" What's the matter ? " said he ; " have you had
a quarrel ? "

" No."

" Are you affronted ? "

Not a word. Then again he called to Miss
Thrale,

" Why, Queeny — why, she's quite in a rage !
What have you done to her ? "

I still sulked on, vexed to be teased ; but,
though, with a gaiety that showed he had no
suspicion of the cause, he grew more and more
urgent, trying every means to make me tell him
what was the matter, till at last, much provoked,
I said,

"I must be strangely in want of a confidant,
indeed, to take you for one ! "

" Why, what an insolent speech ! " cried he,
half serious and half laughing, but casting up his
eyes and hands with astonishment.

He then let me be quiet some time, but in a
few minutes renewed his inquiries with added
eagerness, begging me to tell him if nobody else.

A likely matter ! thought I ; nor did I scruple

1781 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 481

to tell him, when forced to answer, that no one
had so little chance of success in such a request.

" Why so ? " cried he ; " for I am the best
person in the world to trust with a secret, as I
always forget it."

He continued working at me till we joined
Mrs. Thrale and the Attorney- General. And then
Miss Thrale, stimulated by him, came to inquire
if I had really taken anything amiss of her. No,
I assured her.

"Is it of me, then ? " cried Mr. Crutchley, as
if sure I should say no ; but I made no other
answer than desiring him to desist questioning
me.

" So I will," cried he ; " only clear me, — only say
it is not me."

" I shall say nothing about the matter ; so do
pray be at rest."

" Well, but it can't be me, I know : only say
that. It's Queeny, I daresay."

" No, indeed."

" Then it's you," cried Miss Thrale ; " and I'm
glad of it, with all my heart ! "

He then grew quite violent, and at last went on
with his questions till, by being quite silent to
them, he could no longer doubt who it was. He
seemed then wholly amazed, and entreated to know
what he had done ; but I tried only to avoid him,
and keep out of his way.

Soon after the Attorney-General took his leave,
during which ceremony Mr. Crutchley, coming
behind me, exclaimed,

"Who'd think of this creature's having any
venom in her ! "

" Oh yes," answered I, " when she's provoked."

" But have / provoked you ? "
Again I got off. Taking Miss Thrale by the
arm, we hurried away, leaving him with Mrs.
vol. i 2 I

482 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mi

Thrale and Miss Owen. He was presently, how-
ever, with us again ; and when he came to my
side, and found me really trying to talk of other
matters with Miss Thrale, and avoid him, he called
out,

" Upon my life, this is too bad ! Do tell me,
Miss Burncy, what is the matter ? If you won't, I
protest I'll call Mrs. Thrale, and make her work at
you herself."

I now, in my turn, entreated he would not ; for
I knew she was not to be safely trusted with
anything she could turn into ridicule. I was,
therefore, impatient to have the whole matter
dropped ; and after assuring him very drily, yet
peremptorily, that I should never satisfy him, I
started another subject with Miss Thrale, and we
walked quietly on.

He exclaimed, with a vehemence that amazed
me in return, " Why will you not tell me ? Upon
my life, if you refuse me any longer, I'll call the
whole house to speak for me ! "

" I assure you," answered I, " that will be to
no purpose ; for I must offend myself by telling it,
and therefore I shall mention it to nobody."

" But what in the world have I done ? "

" Nothing ; you have done nothing."

" What have I said, then ? Only let me beg
your pardon, — only let me know what it is, that I
may beg your pardon."

I then took up the teasing myself, and quite
insisted upon his leaving us and joining Mrs.
Thrale. He begged me to tell Miss Thrale, and
let her mediate, and entreated her to be his agent ;
which, in order to get rid of him, she promised ; and
he then slackened his pace, though very reluctantly,
while we quickened ours.

Miss Thrale, however, asked me not a question,
which I was very glad of, as the affair, trifling as

1781 THE AUTHOR OF ■ EVELINA' 483

it is, would be but mortifying to mention ; and
though I could not, when so violently pressed,
disguise my resentment, I was by no means
disposed to make any serious complaint. I merely
wished to let the gentleman know I was not so
much his humble servant as to authorise even the
smallest disrespect from him.

He was however, which I very little expected,
too uneasy to stay long away ; and when we
had walked on quite out of hearing of Mrs.
Thrale and Miss Owen, he suddenly galloped
after us.

" How odd it is of you," said Miss Thrale, " to
come and intrude yourself in this manner upon
anybody that tries so to avoid you ! "

" Have you done anything for me ? " cried he ;
" I don't believe you have said a word."

" Not I, truly ! " answered she ; " if I can keep
my own self out of scrapes, it's all I can pretend
to."

" Well, but do tell me, Miss Burney, — pray tell
me ! indeed, this is quite too bad ; I shan't have a
wink of sleep all night. If I have offended you, I
am very sorry indeed ; but I am sure I did not
mean "

" No, sir ! " interrupted I, " I don't suppose you
did mean to offend me, nor do I know why you
should. I expect from you neither good nor ill, —
civility I think myself entitled to, and that is all I
have any desire for."

" Good Heaven ! " exclaimed he. " Tell me,
however, but what it is, and if I have said any-
thing unguardedly, I am extremely sorry, and I
most sincerely beg your pardon."

Is it not very strange that any man, in the same
day, could be so disdainfully proud and so con-
descendingly humble ? I was never myself more
astonished, as I had been firmly persuaded he would

484 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mi

not have deigned to take the smallest notice of me
from the moment of his hearing Sir Philip's idle
raillery.

I now grew civiller, for I dreaded his urgency,
as it was literally impossible for me to come to the
point.

I told him, therefore, that I was sorry he took so
much trouble, which I had by no means intended to
give him, and begged he would think of it no more.

He was not, however, to be so dismissed. Again
he threatened me with Mrs. Thrale, but again I
assured him nothing could less answer to him.

"Well, but," cried he, "if you will not let me
know my crime, why, I must never speak to you
any more."

" Very well," answered I, " if you please we will
proclaim a mutual silence henceforward."

" Oh," cried he, " you, I suppose, will be ready
enough ; but to me that would be a loss of very
great pleasure. If you would tell me, however, I
am sure I could explain it off, because I am sure
it has been done undesignedly."

" No, it does not admit of any explanation ; so
pray don't mention it any more."

" Only tell me what part of the day it was."

Whether this unconsciousness was real, or only
to draw me in so that he might come to the point,
and make his apology with greater ease, I know
not ; but I assured him it was in vain he asked,
and again desired him to puzzle himself with no
further recollections.

"Oh," cried he, "but I shall think of everything
I have ever said to you for this half year. I am
sure, whatever it was, it must have been unmeant
and unguarded."

" That, sir, I never doubted ; and probably you
thought me hard enough to hear anything without
minding it."

1781 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 485

" Good Heaven, Miss Burney ! why, there is
nobody I would not sooner offend, — nobody in
the world ! Queeny knows it. If Queeny would
speak, she could tell you so. Is it not true, Miss
Thrale?"

"I shall say nothing about it; if I can keep
my own neck out of the collar, it's enough
for me."

" But won't it plead something for me that you
are sure, and must be sure, it was by blunder, and
not design ? "

" Indeed I am sorry you take all this trouble,
which is very little worth your while ; so do pray
say no more."

"But will you forgive me ? "

"Yes."

" It seems to come very hard from you. Will
you promise to have quite forgiven it by the time
I return next Thursday ? "

" Oh, I hope I shall have no remembrance of
any part of it before then. I am sorry you know
anything about it ; and if you had not been so
excessively earnest, I should never have let you ;
but I could not say an untruth when pushed so
hard."

" I hope, then, it will be all dissipated by
to-morrow morning."

" Oh, surely ! I should be very much surprised
if it outlasted the night."

" Well, but then will you be the same ? I never
saw such a change. If you are serious "

" Oh no, I'll be wondrous merry ! "

" I beg you will think no more of it. I — I
believe I know what it is ; and, indeed, I was far
from meaning to give you the smallest offence, and
I most earnestly beg your pardon. There is nothing
I would not do to assure you how sorry I am.
But I hope it will be all over by the time the candles

486 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mi

come. I shall look to see, and I hope — I beg —
you will have the same countenance again."

I now felt really appeased, and so I told him.

We then talked of other matters till we reached
home, though it was not without difficulty I could
even yet keep him quiet. I then ran upstairs with
my cloak, and stayed till supper-time, when I re-
turned without, I hope, any remaining appearance
of dudgeon in my phiz ; for after so much trouble
and humiliation, it would have been abominable to
have shown any.

I see, besides, that Mr. Crutchley, though of a
cold and proud disposition, is generous, amiable,
and delicate, and, when not touched upon the
tender string of gallantry, concerning which he
piques himself upon invariable hardness and im-
movability, his sentiments are not merely just, but
refined.

After supper, Mr. Crutchley, though he spoke
to me two or three times with an evident intention
to observe my looks and manner in answering him,
which were both meant to be much as usual, seemed
still dissatisfied both with his own justification and
my appeasement ; and when we all arose to go to
bed, he crossed over to me, and said in a whisper,
" I have begged Miss Thrale to intercede for me ;
she will explain all ; and I hope "

" Very well — very well," said I, in a horrible
hurry ; "there is no occasion for anything more."

For Mrs. and Miss Thrale, and Miss Owen, were
all standing waiting for me : he put himself, how-
ever, before me, so that I could not get away, and
went on : —

" Only hear me, — pray hear me. Is it what
she (pointing to Mrs. Thrale) put about in the
morning ? "

" I'll tell you another time," cried I, in fifty

1781 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 487

agonies to see how they were all ready to titter,
which he, whose back was to them, perceived not.

"I have told Miss Thrale what I thought it
was," he continued, " and she will explain it all,
and tell you how very impossible it was I could
think of offending you. Indeed, I beg your pardon I
I do, indeed, most sincerely. I hope you will think
of it no more, — I hope it will be all over."

" It is all over," cried I, still trying to get away.

" Well, but — stop — only tell me if it was
that "

"Ay — ay — to-morrow morning"; and then I
forced myself into the midst of them, and got off.]

Streatham, Thursday. — This was the great and
most important day to all this house, upon which
the sale of the Brewery was to be decided. Mrs.
Thrale went early to town, to meet all the execu-
tors, and Mr. Barclay, the Quaker, who was the
bidder} She was in great agitation of mind, and
told me if all went well she would wave a white
pocket-handkerchief out of the coach window.

Four o'clock came and dinner was ready, and
no Mrs. Thrale. Five o'clock followed, and no
Mrs. Thrale. Queeny and I went out upon the
lawn, where we sauntered, in eager expectation,
till near six, and then the coach appeared in sight,
and a white pocket-handkerchief was waved
from it.

1 David Barclay, the head of a banking firm in Lombard Street. He
gave £135,000 for Thrale 's brewery, and put his nephew Robert Barclay
into the business with Thrale's superintendent, Perkins. Perkins, it seems,
found the purchasers when Mrs. Thrale and her coadjutors (see ante,
p. 472) were fast brewing themselves into bankruptcy, and she personally
had been keeping " the counting-house from nine o'clock every morning
till five o'clock every evening." At length Perkins, upon whom every one
depended, was bribed by her with the offer of the Borough house for his
wife (see ante, p. 421 n.), and brought forward the Barclays as bidders.
" Among all my fellow-executors," says Mrs. Thrale, " none but Johnson
opposed selling the concern." He "found some odd delight in signing
drafts for hundreds and for thousands, to him a new, and as it appeared,
delightful occupation " (Hay ward's Autobiography of Mrs. Piozzi (Thrale),
2nd ed. 1861, ii. pp. 47-48).

488 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mi

I ran to the door of it to meet her, and she
jumped out of it, and gave me a thousand embraces
while I gave my congratulations. We went in-
stantly to her dressing-room, where she told me,
in brief, how the matter had been transacted, and
then we went down to dinner.

Dr. Johnson and Mr. Crutchley had accom-
panied her home. I determined to behave to Mr.
Crutchley the same as before our quarrel, though
he did not so to me, for he hardly spoke a word to
me. An accident, however, happened after dinner,
which made him for a while more loquacious.
Mrs. Thrale, in cutting some fruit, had cut her
finger, and asked me for some black sticking-
plaster, and as I gave it her out of my pocket-book,
she was struck with the beautiful glossiness of the
paper of a letter which peeped out of it, and rather
waggishly asked me who wrote to me with so much
elegant attention ?

"Mrs. Gast," answered I.

" Oh," cried she, " do pray then let me see her
hand."

I showed it her, and she admired it very justly,
and said,

" Do show it to Mr. Crutchley ; 'tis a mighty
genteel hand indeed."

I complied, but took it from him as soon as he
had looked at it. Indeed, he is the last man in the
world to have even desired to read any letter not
to himself.

Dr. Johnson now, who, too deaf to hear what
was saying, wondered what we were thus handing
about, asked an explanation.

" Why, we are all," said Mrs. Thrale, " admiring
the hand of Fanny's Mr. Crisp's sister."

" And mayn't I admire it too ? " cried he.

" Oh yes," said she ; " show it him, Burney."

I put it in his hand, and he instantly opened

1781 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 489

and began reading it. Now though there was
nothing in it but what must reflect honour upon
Mrs. Gast, she had charged me not to show it ;
and, also, it was so very flattering to me, that I
was quite consternated at this proceeding, and
called out,

" Sir, it was only to show you the handwriting,
and you have seen enough for that."

" I shall know best myself," answered he,
laughing, "when I have seen enough."

And he read on. The truth is I am sure he
took it for granted they had all read it, for he had
not heard a word that had passed.

I then gave Mrs. Thrale a reproachful glance
for what she had done, and she jumped up, and
calling out,

" So I have done mischief, I see ! " and ran out of
the room, followed by Queeny. I stayed hovering
over the Doctor to recover my property ; but the
minute the coast was clear, Mr. Crutchley, taking
advantage of his deafness, said,

" Well, ma'am, I hope we are now friends ? "

" Yes ! " cried I.

" And is it all quite over ? "

"Entirely."

" Why, then, do pray," cried he, laughing, " be
so good as to let me know what was our quarrel ? "

" No — no, I shan't ! " (cried I, laughing too, at
the absurdity of quarrelling and seeming not to
know what for) : "it is all over, and that is
enough."

" No, by no means enough : I must really beg
you to tell me ; I am uneasy till I know. Was it
that silly joke of mine at dinner ? "

" No, I assure you, it was no joke ! "

" But was it at dinner, or before dinner ? "

" Is it not enough that it is over ? I am sorry
you knew anything of the matter, and I am obliged

490 DIARY AND LETTERS OF iysi

to you for taking so much trouble about it ; so
there let it rest."

" But pray do tell me ! — if only that I may be
more on my guard another time."

" No, pray," cried I, in my turn, " don't be on
your guard ; for if you are, I shall suppose you
have taken the resentment up where I have laid
it down."

" That I won't do, indeed," said he ; " but I
merely wish to beg your pardon : and I think
my earnestness must at least have convinced you
how very sorry I am to have given you any
offence."

[Here Dr. Johnson returned me my letter, with
very warm praise of its contents. Mrs. Gast would
not only have forgiven me, but have been much
delighted had she heard his approbation of all she
had written to me.

Mr. Crutchley, never satisfied, again began his
entreaties that I would " come to the point," while
I was putting up my letter ; but I hurried out of
the room without any new answer, though he called
after me,

" I shan't rest, Miss Burney, till you tell me ! "

It cannot be, all this time, that he does not
know ; he merely wants me to mention the matter
myself, that with a better grace he may apologise
about it. However, I shall certainly not give him
that assistance, though far from bearing him any
malice. I think of him as well as I did before the
fracas ; for however his pride of indifference urged
him so to fly out, it is evident he could half murder
himself with self-anger that he has given any cause
of displeasure.]

Friday. — Miss Thrale, Dr. Johnson, Mr.
Crutchley, and myself, went to town ; and, having
set down Dr. Johnson at his own house, we went
to Bond Street for Miss Owen, and proceeded to

1781 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 491

the exhibition. I think I need not describe the
pictures.1

Miss Owen returned with us to Streatham ; Mr.
Crutchley recovered his spirits, and we all did very
well. But in the afternoon, just as we had finished
tea, Mr. Crutchley said to Mrs. Thrale,

" Ma'am, I must beg a private conference with
you."

" With me ? " cried she ; " I thought now I had
parted with my brewhouse, all our conferences
were over."

" No," said he, " one more, just to take leave of
them."

Away they went, and when they returned he
said it was something about Queeny, who, however,
never inquired what. I should not have mentioned
this, but that the next morning —

Saturday. — Mrs. Thrale, who sleeps in the next
room to mine, called me to her bedside, and said,

" Now, my dearest Tyo,2 you know not how I
hate to keep from you anything. Do you love me
well enough to bear to hear something you will
mortally dislike, without hating me for it ? "

" What on earth could I hate you for ? " cried I.

" Nay, 'tis no fault of mine ; but still it is owing
to me, and I dread to tell you lest it should make
you sorry for your kindness to me."

I was quite out of breath at this preparation ;
and though I warmly and truly, I am sure, pro-
tested that nothing upon earth could lessen my
affection for her, I was really afraid to ask what
was next to follow.

" I am as sorry," continued she, " as I can live,

1 See ante, p. 466.

2 When Lieutenant Burney accompanied Captain Cook to Otaheite,
each of the English sailors was adopted as a brother by some one of
the natives. The ceremony consisted in rubbing noses together, and
exchanging the appellation of Tyo, or Taio, which signified chosen friend.
This title was sometimes playfully given to Miss Burney by Mrs. Thrale
[Mrs. Barrett's note].

492 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mi

that anything should give you any disturbance,
but most especially anything that relates to me.
I would give you, if I could, nothing but pleasure,
for I am sure I receive nothing else from you.
Pray, then, don't let any malice, or impertinence,
or ridicule, make you hate me ; for I saw, and you
know told you long ago, the world would be ill-
natured enough to try to part us ; but let it not
succeed, for it is worth neither of our attentions."

" On my part, I am sure, it cannot succeed,"
cried I, more and more alarmed ; " for I am yours
for ever and for ever, and now almost whether I
will or not."

" I hope so," cried she, " for I am sure no one
can love you more ; and I am sorry, and grieved,
and enraged that your affection and kindness
for me should bring you any uneasiness. We are
all sorry, indeed ; Queeny is very sorry, and Mr.
Crutchley is very sorry "

"You make me more and more afraid," said I ;
" but pray tell me what it all means ? "

" Why you know Mr. Crutchley yesterday called
me out of the room to tell me a secret ; well, this
was to show me a paragraph he had just read in
the newspaper, ' And do, ma'am,' says he, ' have
the newspaper burnt, or put somewhere safe out of
Miss Burney's way ; for I am sure it will vex her
extremely.' "

Think if this did not terrify me pretty hand-
somely. I turned sick as death. She gave me the
paper, and I read the following paragraph : —

"Miss Burney, the sprightly writer of the
elegant novel, Evelina, is now domesticated with
Mrs. Thrale, in the same manner that Miss More
is with Mrs. Garrick, and Mrs. Carter with Mrs.
Montagu."

The preparation for this had been so very alarm-
ing, that little as I liked it, I was so much afraid

1781 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 493

of something still worse, that it really was a relief
to me to see it ; and Mrs. Thrale's excess of tender-
ness and delicacy about it was such as to have made
me amends for almost anything. I promised, there-
fore, to take it like a man ; and, after thanking her
with the sincerest gratitude for her infinite kindness,
we parted to dress.

It is, however, most insufferably impertinent to
be thus dragged into print, notwithstanding every
possible effort and caution to avoid it. There is
nothing, merely concerning myself, that can give
me greater uneasiness ; for there is nothing I have
always more dreaded, or more uniformly endeavoured
to avoid.

I think myself, however, much obliged to Mr.
Crutchley for his very good-natured interference
and attempt to save me this vexation, which is an
attention I by no means expected from him. He
has scolded Mrs. Thrale since, she says, for having
told me, because he perceived it had lowered my
spirits ; but she thought it most likely I should
hear it from those who would tell it me with less
tenderness, and, therefore, had not followed his
advice.

Sunday. — We had Mr. and Mrs. Davenant here.
They are very lively and agreeable, and I like them
more and more. Mrs. Davenant is one of the
saucy women of the ton, indeed ; but she has good
parts, and is gay and entertaining ; and her sposo,
who passionately adores her, though five years
her junior, is one of the best- tempered and most
pleasant- charactered young men imaginable.

I had new specimens to-day of the oddities of
Mr. Crutchley, whom I do not yet quite understand,
though I have seen so much of him. In the course
of our walks to-day we chanced, at one time, to be
somewhat before the rest of the company, and soon
got into a very serious conversation ; though we

494 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mi

began it by his relating a most ludicrous incident
which had happened to him last winter.

There is a certain poor wretch of a villainous
painter, one Mr. Lowe,1 who is in some measure
under Dr. Johnson's protection, and whom, there-
fore, he recommends to all the people he thinks
can afford to sit for their pictures. Among these,
he made Mr. Seward very readily, and then applied
to Mr. Crutchley.

" But now," said Mr. Crutchley, as he told me
the circumstance, " I have not a notion of sitting
for my picture, — for who wants it ? I may as well
give the man the money without ; but no, they all
said that would not do so well, and Dr. Johnson
asked me to give him my picture. ' And I assure
you, sir,' says he, ' I shall put it in very good com-
pany, for I have portraits of some very respectable
people in my dining-room.' ' Ay, sir,' says I, ' that's
sufficient reason why you should not have mine,
for I am sure it has no business in such society/
So then Mrs. Thrale asked me to give it to
her. 'Ay sure, ma'am,' says I, 'you do me great
honour ; but pray, first, will you do me the favour
to tell me what door you intend to put it behind ? '
However, after all I could say in opposition, I was
obliged to go to the painter's. And I found him
in such a condition ! a room all dirt and filth, brats
squalling and wrangling, up two pair of stairs, and
a closet, of which the door was open, that Seward
well said was quite Pandora's box — it was the
repository of all the nastiness, and stench, and filth,

and food, and drink, and oh, it was too bad to

be borne ! and ' Oh ! ' says I, ' Mr. Lowe, I beg
your pardon for running away, but I have just
recollected another engagement ' ; so I poked the

1 Mauritius Lowe, 1746-93. In spite of Miss Burney's adjective, he
was a gold medallist, had studied in Rome, and exhibited at the Royal
Academy. Johnson befriended him ; but he was idle, and neglected to
improve the talent he had.

1781 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 495

three guineas in his hand, and told him I would
come again another time, and then ran out of the
house with all my might."

Well, when we had done laughing about this
poor unfortunate painter, the subject turned upon
portraits in general, and our conference grew very
grave : on his part it soon became even melancholy.
I have not time to dialogue it ; but he told me he
could never bear to have himself the picture of any
one he loved, as, in case of their death or absence,
he should go distracted by looking at it ; and that,
as for himself, he never had, and never would sit
for his own, except for one miniature by Hum-
phreys,1 which his sister begged of him, as he could
never flatter himself there was a human being in
the world to whom it could be of any possible
value : "And now," he added, "less than ever ! "

This, and various other speeches to the same
purpose, he spoke with a degree of dejection that
surprised me, as the coldness of his character,
and his continually boasted insensibility, made me
believe him really indifferent both to love and
hatred.

After this we talked of Mrs. Davenant.

" She is very agreeable," said I, "I like her
much. Don't you ? "

"Yes, very much," said he; "she is lively and
entertaining " ; and then a moment after, " 'Tis
wonderful," he exclaimed, "that such a thing as
that can captivate a man ! "

"Nay," cried I, "nobody more, for her husband
quite adores her."

" So I find," said he ; " and Mrs. Thrale says
men in general like her."

" They certainly do," cried I ; " and all the
oddity is in you who do not, not in them
who do."

1 Ozias Humphry, R.A., 1742-1810, the miniaturist.

496 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mi

"May be so," answered he, "but it don't do for
me, indeed."

We then came to two gates, and there I stopped
short, to wait till they joined us; and Mr. Crutchley,
turning about and looking at Mrs. Davenant, as
she came forward, said, rather in a muttering voice,
and to himself than to me, " What a thing for an
attachment ! No, no, it would not do for me ! —
too much glare ! too much flippancy ! too much
hoop ! too much gauze ! too much slipper ! too
much neck ! Oh, hide it ! hide it ! — muffle it up !
muffle it up ! If it is but in a fur cloak, I am for
muffling it all up ! "

And thus he diverted himself till they came up
to us. But never, I believe, was there a man who
could endure so very few people. Even Mrs. and
Miss Thrale, of whom he is fond to excess, he
would rather not see than see with other company !

Is he not a strange composition ?

Streatham, June. — I found Dr. Johnson in
admirable good -humour, and our journey hither
was extremely pleasant. I thanked him for the
last batch of his poets,1 and we talked them over
almost all the way.

Sweet Mrs. Thrale received me with her wonted
warmth of affection, but shocked me by her own
ill looks, and the increasing alteration in her person,
which perpetual anxiety and worry have made. I
found with her Mrs. Lambart and the Rev. Mr.
Jennings, a young brother of Sir Philip Clerke, and
Mr. Seward.

Mrs. Lambart I was much pleased with again
meeting, for she is going in a few days to Brussels
with her son, in order to reside for two years. Mr.
Jennings I was not much charmed with ; but he
may be a good sort of man for all that, and for all

1 See ante, p. 443.

1781 THE AUTHOR OF < EVELINA' 497

he was somewhat over - facetious, or would have
been ; for Mrs. Thrale, after running to kiss me,
introduced me to Sir Philip's brother, who said,

"Pray, ma'am, may not that fashion go
round ? " 1

" No, no, there's no occasion for that," cried I.

" Oh yes, there is," returned he ; " it may be an
old-fashioned custom, but I am an old-fashioned
man, and therefore I rather like it the better.
Come, Mrs. Thrale, may I not be introduced
properly to Miss Burney ? "

"No, no," cried she, while I took care to get
out of the way, "nobody kisses Miss Burney in
this house but myself."

" I have ventured," cried Mr. Seward, " to
sometimes touch the tip of Miss Burney's little
finger-nail ; but never farther."

I then gave Mrs. Thrale some account of my
visit to Mrs. Byron, which turned the conversa-
tion ; and presently entered Mr. Crutchley.

We had a good cheerful day, and in the evening
Sir Richard Jebb came ; and nothing can I recol-
lect, but that Dr. Johnson forced me to sit on a
very small sofa with him, which was hardly large
enough for himself; and which would have made a
subject for a print by Harry Bunbury 2 that would
have diverted all London : ergo, it rejoiceth me
that he was not present.

Wednesday. — We had a terrible noisy day. Mr.
and Mrs. Cator came to dinner, and brought with
them Miss Collison, a niece. Mrs. Nesbitt 3 was also
here, and Mr. Pepys.

The long war which has been proclaimed among
the wits concerning Lord Lyttelton's Life, by

1 Cp. Early Diary, 1889, ii. 48, where Miss Burney is kissed " ardu-
rously " by her would-be suitor, Mr. Thomas Barlow.

a H. W. Bunbury, the caricaturist, 1750-1811, the husband of Gold-
smith's " Little Comedy " (Catherine Horneck).

3 No doubt Mr. Thrale's sister, Mrs. Nesbitt (afterwards Mrs. Scott).

VOL. I 2 K

498 DIARY AND LETTERS OF tm

Dr. Johnson, and which a whole tribe of blues, with
Mrs. Montagu at their head, have vowed to exe-
crate and revenge, now broke out with all the fury
of the first actual hostilities, stimulated by long-
concerted schemes and much spiteful information.
Mr. Pepys, Dr. Johnson well knew, was one of
Mrs. Montagu's steadiest abettors ; and, therefore,
as he had some time determined to defend himself
with the first of them he met, this day he fell the
sacrifice to his wrath.

In a long tete-a-tete which I accidentally had
with Mr. Pepys before the company was assembled,
he told me his apprehensions of an attack, and
entreated me earnestly to endeavour to prevent it ;
modestly avowing he was no antagonist for Dr.
Johnson ; and yet declaring his personal friendship
for Lord Lyttelton made him so much hurt by the
Life, that he feared he could not discuss the matter
without a quarrel, which, especially in the house of
Mrs. Thrale, he wished to avoid.

It was, however, utterly impossible for me to
serve him. I could have stopped Mrs. Thrale with
ease, and Mr. Seward with a hint, had either of
them begun the subject ; but, unfortunately, in the
middle of dinner it was begun by Dr. Johnson him-
self, to oppose whom, especially as he spoke with
great anger, would have been madness and folly.

Never before have I seen Dr. Johnson speak with
so much passion.

" Mr. Pepys," he cried, in a voice the most
enraged, " I understand you are offended by my
Life of Lord Lyttelton. What is it you have to
say against it ? Come forth, man ! Here am I,
ready to answer any charge you can bring ! "

44 No, sir," cried Mr. Pepys, "not at present; I
must beg leave to decline the subject. I told Miss
Burney before dinner that I hoped it would not be
started."

1781 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 499

I was quite frightened to hear my own name
mentioned in a debate which began so seriously ;
but Dr. Johnson made not to this any answer : he
repeated his attack and his challenge, and a violent
disputation ensued, in which this great but mortal
man did, to own the truth, appear unreasonably
furious and grossly severe. I never saw him so
before, and I heartily hope I never shall again.
He has been long provoked, and justly enough,
at the sneaking complaints and murmurs of the
Lytteltonians ; and, therefore, his long - excited
wrath, which hitherto had met no object, now
burst forth with a vehemence and bitterness almost
incredible.

Mr. Pepys meantime never appeared to so much
advantage ; he preserved his temper, uttered all
that belonged merely to himself with modesty, and
all that more immediately related to Lord Lyttelton
with spirit. Indeed, Dr. Johnson, in the very
midst of the dispute, had the candour and liberality
to make him a personal compliment by saying,

" Sir, all that you say, while you are vindicating
one who cannot thank you, makes me only think
better of you than I ever did before. Yet still I
think you do me wrong," etc., etc.

Some time after, in the heat of the argument, he
called out,

" The more my Lord Lyttelton is inquired after,
the worse he will appear ; Mr. Seward has just
heard two stories of him, which corroborate all
I have related."

He then desired Mr. Seward to repeat them.
Poor Mr. Seward looked almost as frightened as
myself at the very mention of his name ; but he
quietly and immediately told the stories, which
consisted of fresh instances, from good authorities,
of Lord Lyttelton's illiberal behaviour to Shen-
stone ; and then he flung himself back in his chair,

500 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mi

and spoke no more during the whole debate, which
I am sure he was ready to vote a bore.

One happy circumstance, however, attended the
quarrel, which was the presence of Mr. Cator, who
would by no means be prevented talking himself,
either by reverence for Dr. Johnson, or ignorance
of the subject in question ; on the contrary, he
gave his opinion, quite uncalled, upon everything
that was said by either party, and that with an
importance and pomposity, yet with an emptiness
and verbosity, that rendered the whole dispute,
when in his hands, nothing more than ridiculous,
and compelled even the disputants themselves,
all inflamed as they were, to laugh. To give a
specimen — one speech will do for a thousand.

" As to this here question of Lord Lyttelton, I
can't speak to it to the purpose, as I have not read
his Life, for I have only read the Life of Pope ; I
have got the books though, for I sent for them last
week, and they came to me on Wednesday, and
then I began them ; but I have not yet read Lord
Lyttelton. Pope I have begun, and that is what
I am now reading. But what I have to say about
Lord Lyttelton is this here : Mr. Seward says that
Lord Lyttelton's steward dunned Mr. Shenstone
for his rent, by which I understand he was a tenant
of Lord Lyttelton's. Well, if he was a tenant
of Lord Lyttelton's, why should not he pay his
rent?"

Who could contradict this ?

When dinner was quite over, and we left the
men to their wine, we hoped they would finish the
affair ; but Dr. Johnson was determined to talk it
through, and make a battle of it, though Mr.
Pepys tried to be off continually. When they
were all summoned to tea, they entered still warm
and violent. Mr. Cator had the book in his hand,
and was reading the Life of Lyttelton, that he

1781 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA ' 501

might better, he said, understand the cause, though
not a creature cared if he had never heard of it.

Mr. Pepys came up to me and said,

" Just what I had so much wished to avoid !
I have been crushed in the very onset."

I could make him no answer, for Dr. Johnson
immediately called him off, and harangued and
attacked him with a vehemence and continuity
that quite concerned both Mrs. Thrale and myself,
and that made Mr. Pepys, at last, resolutely silent,
however called upon.

This now grew more unpleasant than ever ; till
Mr. Cator, having some time studied his book,
exclaimed,

" What I am now going to say, as I have
not yet read the Life of Lord Lyttelton quite
through, must be considered as being only said
aside, because what I am going to say "

" I wish, sir," cried Mrs. Thrale, " it had been all
set aside ; here is too much about it, indeed, and I
should be very glad to hear no more of it."

This speech, which she made with great spirit
and dignity, had an admirable effect. Every-
body was silenced. Mr. Cator, thus interrupted
in the midst of his proposition, looked quite
amazed ; Mr. Pepys was much gratified by the
interference ; and Dr. Johnson, after a pause,
said,

" Well, madam, you shall hear no more of it ;
yet I will defend myself in every part and in every
atom!"

And from this time the subject was wholly
dropped. This dear violent Doctor was conscious
he had been wrong, and therefore he most candidly
bore the reproof.

Mr. Cator, after some evident chagrin at having
his speech thus rejected, comforted himself by
coming up to Mr. Seward, who was seated next

502 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mi

me, to talk to him of the changes of the climates
from hot to could in the countries he had visited ;
and he prated so much, yet said so little, and
pronounced his words so vulgarly, that I found it
impossible to keep my countenance, and was once,
when most unfortunately he addressed himself to
me, surprised by him on the full grin. To soften
it off as well as I could, I pretended unusual
complacency, and instead of recovering my gravity,
I continued a most ineffable smile for the whole
time he talked, which was indeed no difficult task.
Poor Mr. Seward was as much off his guard as
myself, having his mouth distended to its fullest
extent every other minute.

When the leave-taking time arrived, Dr. John-
son called to Mr. Pepys to shake hands, an invita-
tion which was most coldly and forcibly accepted.1
Mr. Cator made a point of Mrs. Thrale's dining
at his house soon, and she could not be wholly
excused, as she has many transactions with him ;
but she fixed the day for three weeks hence.
They have invited me so often, that I have now
promised not to fail making one.

Thursday morning. — Dr. Johnson went to
town for some days, but not before Mrs. Thrale
read him a very serious lecture upon giving way
to such violence ; which he bore with a patience
and quietness that even more than made his

1 Mr. Pepys's account of this unpleasant incident is given in a letter to
Mrs. Montagu at this date — " The moment the cloth was removed, he
[Johnson] challenged me to come out (as he called it) and say what I had
to object to in his Life of Lord Lyttelton. ... I could not but obey, and
so to it we went for three or four hours without ceasing. He once observed
that it was the duty of a biographer to state all the failings of a respectable
character. We shook hands, however, at parting ; which put me much
in mind of the parting between Jaques and Orlando — ' God be with you ;
let us meet as seldom as we can ! Fare you well ; I hope we shall be
better strangers ! ' " The combatants were apparently reconciled two
months later (see vol. ii., under August 1781). See also vol. ii., under
December 1783, where Miss Burney gives an account of the engagement
to Mr. George Cambridge. People, who now read the Doctor's short
account of Lyttelton, will perhaps wonder what the dispute was about.

1781 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 503

peace with me ; for such a man's confessing him-
self wrong is almost more amiable than another
man being steadily right.

Friday, June 14. — We had my dear father and
Sophy Streatfield, who, as usual, was beautiful,
caressing, amiable, sweet, and — fatiguing.

Sunday, June 16. — This morning, after church,
we had visits from the Pitches, and afterwards
from the Attorney -General and Mrs. Wallace,1
his wife, who is a very agreeable woman. And
here I must give you a little trait of Mr.
Crutchley, whose solid and fixed character I am
at this moment unable to fathom, much as I have
seen of him.

He has an aversion, not only to strangers, but
to the world in general, that I never yet saw quite
equalled. I at first attributed it to shyness, but
I now find it is simply disgust. To-day at noon,
while I was reading alone in the library, he came
in, and amused himself very quietly in the same
manner ; but, upon a noise which threatened
an intrusion, he started up, and as the Pitches
entered, he hastened away. After this, the
Wallaces came, from whom he kept equally
distant ; but when we all went out to show the
Attorney -General the hot-houses and kitchen-
gardens, he returned, I suppose, to the library,
for there, when we came back, we found him
reading. He instantly arose, and was retreating,
but stopped upon my telling him in passing that
his particular enemy, Mr. Merlin, was just arrived;
and then some nonsense passing among us con-
cerning poor Merlin and Miss Owen, he conde-
scended to turn back and take a chair. He sat
then, as usual when with much company, quite
silent, till Mr. Wallace began talking of the
fatigue he had endured at the birthday, from

1 See ante, p. 479.

504 DIARY AND LETTERS OF irsi

the weight and heat of his clothes, which were
damask and gold, belonging to his place, and of the
haste he was in to get at the Queen, that he might
speak to her Majesty, and make his escape from so
insufferable a situation as the heat, incommodious-
ness, and richness of his dress, had put him into.

"Well, sir," interrupted Mr. Crutchley, in the
midst of this complaint, to which he had listened
with evident contempt, "but you had at least the
pleasure of showing this dress at the levee ! "

This unexpected sarcasm instantly put an end
to the subject, and when I afterwards spoke of it
to Mr. Crutchley, and laughed at his little respect
for " an officer of the state " —

" Oh ! " cried he, " nothing makes me so sick as
hearing such ostentatious complaints ! The man
has but just got the very dress he has been all his
life working for, and now he is to parade about its
inconvenience ! "

This is certainly a good and respectable spirit,
though not much calculated to make its possessor
popular.

We had afterwards a good deal of sport with
Merlin, who again stayed dinner, and was as
happy as a prince ; but Mr. Crutchley plagued me
somewhat by trying to set him upon attacking
me ; which, as I knew his readiness to do better
than I chose to confess, was not perfectly to
my taste. Once, when Piozzi was making me
some most extravagant compliments, upon Heaven
knows what of accomplishments and perfections,
which he said belonged to the whole famille
JSorni, and was challenging me to speak to him
in Italian, which I assured him I could not do,
Merlin officiously called out,

" O, je vous assure, Mile. Burney n'ignore rien ;
mais elle est si modeste quelle ne veut pas, c'est
a dire, parler."

1781 THE AUTHOR OF 'EVELINA' 505

And soon after, when a story was told of some-
body's sins, which I have forgotten, Merlin, en-
couraged again by some malicious contrivance
of Mr. Crutchley's to address himself to me,
called out aloud, and very malapropos, "Pour
Mile. Burney, c'est une demoiselle qui n'a jamais
peche du tout."

" No, I hope not," said I, in a low voice to
Miss Thrale, while they were all holloaing at this
oddity ; "at least if I had, I think I would not
confess"

" Tell him so," cried Mr. Crutchley.

" No, no," cried I, "pray let him alone."

" Do you hear, Mr. Merlin," cried he then aloud ;
" Miss Burney says if she has sinned, she will not
confess."

" Oh, sir ! " answered Merlin, simpering, " for
the modest ladies, they never do confess, because,
that is, they have not got nothing to confess."

During the dessert, mention was made of my
father's picture, when this ridiculous creature
exclaimed,

" Oh ! for that picture of Dr. Burney, Sir
Joshua Reynhold has not taken pains, that is, to
please me ! I do not like it. Mr. Gainsborough
has done one much more better of me, which is
very agreeable indeed.1 I wish it had been at the
Exhibition, for it would have done him a great deal
of credit indeed."

There was no standing the absurdity of this
" agreeable," and we all laughed heartily, and Mrs.
Thrale led the way for our leaving the room.

" Oh ! " cried Merlin, half piqued, and half
grinning from sympathy, "I assure you there is
not nothing does make me so happy, that is, as to
see the ladies so pleased ! "

Monday, June 17. — There passed, some time

1 See ante, p. 458.

506 DIARY AND LETTERS OF mi

ago, an agreement between Mr. Crutchley and
Mr. Seward, that the latter is to make a visit to
the former, at his country-house in Berkshire;1
and to-day the time was settled : but a more
ridiculous scene never was exhibited. The host
elect and the guest elect tried which should show
least expectation of pleasure from the meeting,
and neither of them thought it at all worth
while to disguise his terror of being weary of the
other. Mr. Seward seemed quite melancholy and
depressed in the prospect of making, and Mr.
Crutchley absolutely miserable in that of receiving,
the visit. Yet nothing so ludicrous as the distress
of both, since nothing less necessary than that
either should have such a punishment inflicted.
I cannot remember half the absurd things that
passed ; but a few, by way of specimen, I will
give.

"How long do you intend to stay with me,
Seward ? " cried Mr. Crutchley ; " how long do
you think you can bear it ? "

" Oh, I don't know ; I shan't fix," answered
the other : "just as I find it."

" Well, but — when shall you come ? Friday
or Saturday ? I think you'd better not come till
Saturday."

" Why yes, I believe on Friday."

" On Friday ! Oh, you'll have too much of
it ! what shall I do with you ? "

"Why on Sunday we'll dine at the Lyells'.
Mrs. Lyell is a charming woman ; one of the
most elegant creatures I ever saw."

" Wonderfully so," cried Mr. Crutchley ; " I
like her extremely — an insipid idiot ! She never
opens her mouth but in a whisper ; I never heard
her speak a word in my life. But what must I
do with you on Monday ? will you come away ? "

1 At Sunninghill Park.

1781 THE AUTHOR OF * EVELINA' 507

" Oh no ; I'll stay and see it out."

" Why, how long shall you stay ? Why I must
come away myself on Tuesday."

"Oh, I shan't settle yet," cried Mr. Seward,
very drily. u I shall put up six shirts, and then
do as I find it."

" Six shirts ! " exclaimed Mr. Crutchley ; and
then, with equal dryness added — " Oh, I suppose
you wear two a-day."

And so on.

APPENDIX

BOSWELL AT STREATHAM PLACE

The following account of Boswell at Streatham is printed
at pp. 190-197 of vol. ii. of the Memoirs of Dr. Burney,
1832 :—

Mr. Boswell

When next, after this adjuration,1 Dr. Burney took the
Memorialist back to Streatham, he found there, recently
arrived from Scotland, Mr. Boswell, whose sprightly Corsican
tour, and heroic, almost Quixotic, pursuit of General Paoli,
joined to the tour to the Hebrides with Dr. Johnson, made
him an object himself of considerable attention.

He spoke the Scotch accent strongly, though by no means
so as to affect, even slightly, his intelligibility to an English
ear. He had an odd, mock solemnity of tone and manner,
that he had acquired imperceptibly from constantly think-
ing of and imitating Dr. Johnson, whose own solemnity,
nevertheless, far from mock, was the result of pensive
rumination. There was, also, something slouching in the
gait and dress of Mr. Boswell that wore an air, ridiculously
enough, of purporting to personify the same model. His
clothes were always too large for him; his hair, or wig,
was constantly in a state of negligence ; and he never for a
moment sat still or upright upon a chair. Every look
and movement displayed either intentional or involuntary
imitation. Yet certainly it was not meant as caricature,

1 This refers to a speech by Johnson in reply to Dr. Burney's com-
plaint that his daughter had been from home so long. "'Long? no,
Sir ! I do not think it long,' cried the Doctor, see-sawing, and seizing
both her hands, as if purporting to detain her : ' Sir ! I would have her
Always come . . . and Never go ! '" {Memoirs of Dr. Burney, 1832, ii.
190).

509

510 APPENDIX

for his heart, almost even to idolatry, was in his reverence of
Dr. Johnson.

Dr. Burney was often surprised that this kind of farcical
similitude escaped the notice of the Doctor, but attributed
his missing it to a high superiority over any such suspicion
as much as to his near-sightedness ; for fully was Dr. Burney
persuaded that had any detection of such imitation taken
place, Dr. Johnson, who generally treated Mr. Boswell as
a schoolboy,1 whom, without the smallest ceremony, he
pardoned or rebuked, alternately, would so indignantly have
been provoked as to have instantaneously inflicted upon him
some mark of his displeasure. And equally he was persuaded
that Mr. Boswell, however shocked and even inflamed in
receiving it, would soon, from his deep veneration, have
thought it justly incurred, and after a day or two of pouting
and sullenness would have compromised the matter by one of
his customary simple apologies of " Pray, Sir, forgive me ! w

Dr. Johnson, though often irritated by the officious
importunity of Mr. Boswell, was really touched by his
attachment. It was indeed surprising, and even affecting, to
remark the pleasure with which this great man accepted
personal kindness, even from the simplest of mankind ; and
the grave formality with which he acknowledged it even to
the meanest. Possibly it was what he most prized, because
what he could least command ; for personal partiality hangs
upon lighter and slighter qualities than those which earn
solid approbation ; but of this, if he had least command, he
had also least want ; his towering superiority of intellect
elevating him above all competitors, and regularly establish-
ing him, wherever he appeared, as the first Being of the
Society.

As Mr. Boswell was at Streatham only upon a morning
visit, a collation was ordered, to which all were assembled.
Mr. Boswell was preparing to take a seat that he seemed, by
prescription, to consider as his own, next to Dr. Johnson ;
but Mr. Seward, who was present, waved his hand for
Mr. Boswell to move farther on, saying, with a smile, " Mr.
Boswell, that seat is Miss Burney 's.*"

He stared, amazed : the asserted claimant was new and
unknown to him, and he appeared by no means pleased to
resign his prior rights. But, after looking round for a
minute or two with an important air of demanding the
meaning of this innovation, and receiving no satisfaction, he

1 Johnson, it may be remembered, was thirty-one years older.

APPENDIX 511

reluctantly, also resentfully, got another chair, and placed it
at the back of the shoulder of Dr. Johnson, while this new
and unheard-of rival quietly seated herself as if not hearing
what was passing, for she shrunk from the explanation that
she feared might ensue, as she saw a smile stealing over
every countenance, that of Dr. Johnson himself not excepted,
at the discomfiture and surprise of Mr. Boswell.

Mr. Boswell, however, was so situated as not to remark
it in the Doctor, and of every one else, when in that
presence, he was unobservant, if not contemptuous. In
truth, when he met with Dr. Johnson, he commonly forbore
even answering anything that was said, or attending to
anything that went forward, lest he should miss the smallest
sound from that voice to which he paid such exclusive,
though merited, homage. But the moment that voice burst
forth, the attention which it excited in Mr. Boswell
amounted almost to pain. His eyes goggled with eager-
ness ; he leant his ear almost on the shoulder of the Doctor ;
and his mouth dropped open to catch every syllable that
might be uttered ; nay, he seemed not only to dread losing
a word, but to be anxious not to miss a breathing, as if
hoping from it, latently or mystically, some information.

But when, in a few minutes, Dr. Johnson, whose eye did
not follow him, and who had concluded him to be at the
other end of the table, said something gaily and good-
humouredly by the appellation of Bozzy, and discovered, by
the sound of the reply, that Bozzy had planted himself as
closely, as he could behind and between the elbows of the
new usurper and his own, the Doctor turned angrily round
upon him, and, clapping his hand rather loudly upon his
knee, said, in a tone of displeasure, " What do you do there,
Sir ? Go to the table, Sir ! "

Mr. Boswell instantly, and with an air of affright,
obeyed : and there was something so unusual in such humble
submission to so imperious a command that another smile
gleamed its way across every mouth except that of the
Doctor and of Mr. Boswell, who now, very unwillingly, took
a distant seat.

But, ever restless when not at the side of Dr. Johnson,
he presently recollected something that he wished to exhibit,
and, hastily rising, was running away in its search, when the
Doctor, calling after him, authoritatively said : " What are
you thinking of, Sir ? Why do you get up before the cloth
is removed ? Come back to your place, Sir ! "

512 APPENDIX

Again, and with equal obsequiousness, Mr. Boswell did
as he was bid, when the Doctor, pursing his lips not to
betray rising risibility, muttered half to himself, " Running
about in the middle of meals ! One would take you for a
Branghton ! "

" A Branghton, Sir ? " repeated Mr. Boswell, with earnest-
ness, " what is a Branghton, Sir ? v

" Where have you lived, Sir," cried the Doctor, laughing,
" and what company have you kept not to know that ? "

Mr. Boswell, now doubly curious, yet always apprehensive
of falling into some disgrace with Dr. Johnson, said, in a low
tone, which he knew the Doctor could not hear, to Mrs.
Thrale, "Pray, Ma'am, what's a Branghton? Do me the
favour to tell me ? Is it some animal hereabouts ? "

Mrs. Thrale only heartily laughed, but without answering,
as she saw one of her guests fearful of an explanation. But
Mr. Seward cried, " I'll tell you, Boswell, I'll tell you, if you
will walk with me into the paddock ; only let us wait till
the table is cleared, or I shall be taken for a Branghton
too!"

They soon went off together, and Mr. Boswell, no doubt,
was fully informed of the road that had led to the usurpation
by which he had thus been annoyed. But the Branghton
fabricator took care to mount to her chamber ere they
returned; and did not come down till Mr. Boswell was
gone.

INDEX

Adair, Mr., 467

Addison, Joseph, 443

Agreeability, 60

Agujari, Lucrezia, 156, 304

Allen, Mrs. Stephen, see Burney,

Mrs. Elizabeth
Althorpe, Lord (son of first Earl

Spencer), 385
Anecdotes, Seward's, 55 ft.
Anstey, Christopher, 26, 253, 353,

354, 373, 377, 380, 384
Anstey, Mrs., 380
Anstey, Miss, 380, 383
Arundel, eighth Lord, 428
Aubrey, Mrs., 366, 380, 381, 393

Bacelli, Mile., 271

Barclay, David, 487

Baretti, Giuseppe Marc' Antonio,

76, 185, 186, 265, 435 ; Spanish

Travels, 243
Barnard, Dr. Edward, 339
Barnard, Rt. Rev. Thomas, Bishop

of Killaloe, 476
Barrett, Mrs. Charlotte Francis,

viii, 1 n., 17 ft. , 49 ft.
Barrington, Vice-Adml. Samuel,

267
Barry, James, R.A., 10, 265, 266
Bartolozzi, 214, 459
Bate [Sir Henry Bate Dudley],

308
Bateson, Mr., 310
Bath, 323, 326, 327, 329, 333;

Belvidere, 333, 391,402 ; Spring

Gardens, 388-390, 392
Bath-Easton, 382, 415, 417, 420
Bath-Easton Vase, 186, 328, 393,

394
Bath Guide, The New, 26, 353, 373
Beattie's Immutability of Truth, 399
VOL. I

Beauclerk, Lady Diana, 283, 294

Beauclerk, Hon. Topham, 282

Belvidera, 351

Benson, Mr. Arthur C, ix

Benson, Miss, 445, 465

Bertoni, Ferdinando Giuseppe,

155, 156, 452
Bickerstatfe, Isaac, 328 ft.
Biographiana, Seward's, 55 ft.
Birch, Miss, 277-280, 312
Birthday clothes, 117 ft.
^lue-Stocking Club, 109 ft., 159 ft.
Bodens, George, 423
Bodleian librarian, 451
Bolingbroke, Lord, 399, 419
Bolt Court, 437
Bonduca, 57
Borough (South wark), 421, 427,

429
Boswell, James, 199 ft., 467, 509-

512 ; Johnson, 60
Bouchier, Captain, 382, 393, 394,

402, 403, 404, 405, 409, 410,

414
" Bounce," Sir John, 436
Bousfield, Mr. William, ix
Bowdler, Thomas, 330, 350, 379
Bowdler, Dr., 461
Bowdler, Mrs., 338, 348, 350, 351,

355, 357, 358, 373, 379, 422
Bowdler, Miss Frances, 330, 338,

345, 349, 356, 357, 373, 374,

377, 379, 387, 390, 411, 421
Bowdler, Miss Henrietta M. , 349,

379, 390, 392, 402, 416, 417,

418
Bowdler, Miss Jane, 350
Bowen, bookseller, 281, 285, 440
Bremner, Robert, 169
Brighton, 183, 281, 295, 426, 436 ;

Ship Tavern, 219 ft., 282 n. ;
513 2 L

514

INDEX

Hicks's, 282, 285 ; King's Head,
221 ; Shergold's,281 ; TheSteyn,
222, 228, 281, 289 ; Brighton in
the Olden Time, 217 n., 431 n.

Brighton road, 216-217, 280

Brisbane, Captain, 402, 405, 408,
410, 415, 433 n.

Bromfield, Dr. , 230

Brompton, 24, 26

Brown, Miss Fanny, 80, 87, 88,
100, 103, 185, 202, 209, 229,
234, 235

Bruce, Mr. James, 378

Bull's Library, 423

Bunbury, Harry, 167 n. , 497

Bunbury, Mrs., 167, 173

Burgoyne, General John, 309, 317

Burke, Edmund, 107, 110, 113,
116, 121, 291

Burke, William, 172, 176, 179,
439

Burney, Archdeacon, ix, 193,
339 n., 458 n.

Burney, Dr. Charles, father of
Frances, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 11, 12,
14, 15, 16, 17, 32, 36, 51, 52,
54, 55, 60, 74, 85, 98, 125,
146, 155, 161, 167, 168, 174,
175, 181, 182, 186, 189, 190,
193 n., 203, 225, 229, 233, 247,
254, 257, 263, 315, 331, 334,
352, 353, 357, 363, 384, 422,
427, 429, 437, 443, 448, 452,
455, 458, 459, 505, 509, 510;
circle of friends, 10 ; History of
Music, 13, 15 7i., 155, 459 n.
Letter of, 428

Burney, Anne, Frances and, 22,
24, 25, 27

Burney, Dr. Charles, Frances's
brother, 5, 6, 15, 23, 27, 61,
452, 458 n.

Burney, Charles Rousseau, 29 n.,
42n.,47, 60

Burney, Miss Charlotte, 5, 8, 24,
32, 285, 338, 424, 426, 429,
452, afterwards Mrs. Francis
Letter of, 429

Burney, Edward Francis (cousin
to Frances), 23, 24 n., 338, 361

Burney, Mrs. Elizabeth (step-
mother to Frances), 9, 30, 35,
37, 49, 61, 80, 157, 175, 180,
186, 267, 452

Burney, Mrs. (mother of Frances),
5

Burney, Miss Esther (Hetty or
Etty), 6, 8, 9, 29, 30, 34,
42, 60, 250, 258, 260, 359, 391,
423, 452

Burney (Lieut. , Captain, Admiral),
James, 5, 76, 317, 337, 376,
437, 452, 453, 454, 455, 456,
460 n., 491 n.

Burney, Richard, uncle to Frances,
24

Burney, Richard (cousin to
Frances), 24, 25, 26, 27, 29

Burney, Richard Thomas (step-
brother to Frances), 158, 191 n.,
206, 267, 460

Burney, Sarah Harriet (step-sister
to Frances), 30, 31

Burney, Miss Susan, 5, 6, 8, 12,
20 n., 24, 25, 30, 31, 32, 33,
34, 35, 39, 41, 43, 73, 186, 195,
199, 206, 209, 213, 216, 223,
224, 229, 248, 268, 285, 323,
324, 401, 407, 444, 447, 452,
458 n., 459, 460

Burney, Frances, afterwards
Madame D'Arblay, birth, 3 ;
backward as a child, ib. ; mimic,
shyness, ib. ; cool expostulation
when a child, 4 ; mother's
death, 5 ; at school in Queen
Square, 5 ; home education, 6,
7 ; her reading, 8 ; character
when rifteen, 9 ; father's friends,
10 ; literary attempts, 11 ; in
King's Lynn, 12 ; Susanna, her
confidante, 12 ; discouraged by
stepmother, ib. ; destroys manu-
scripts and germ of Evelina, 12-
13 ; renewed efforts, conception
of Evelina, 13 ; amanuensis for
Dr. Burney's History of Music,
13 ; progress of Evelina, 14 ;
incomplete MS. offered to Mr.
Dodsley and declined, 15 ; later
shown to Mr. Lowndes, 15 ;
offer to print on completion,
16 ; brother and sister alone in
secret, 12, 15 ; hint to father,
16 ; Evelina sold to Lowndes,
17, 247 n. ; Miss Burney learns
publication from an advertise-
ment, 17, 22 n. ; her Memoirs

INDEX

515

of Madame D'Arblay, 17 ; not
intended for publication, 17 ;
later instructions, 18 ; dedicates
her Journal or Memoirs to
" Nobody/' 19-20; Early Diary,
20 n., 64 n. ; first publication,
Evelina, 22 ; her comment on
Evelina, 26 ; illness, 28 n. ;
reads Evelina to Mr. Crisp, 29 ;
evasion of authorship, 31 ; Dr.
Burney hears its source, 32 ;
Evelina's success, 35, 43 ; pub-
lisher ignorant of authoress, 39,
61 ; secret told Mrs. Thrale,
46 ; Dr. Johnson's praise, 48 ;
authorship spread by Mrs.
Thrale, 50 ; advised to write
for stage, 48, 51, 90, 98, 101,
126, 139, 148, 149, 194, 202,
204, 241 ; first visit to Mrs.
Thrale, 53-60 ; meets Dr. John-
son, 56 ; second visit to the
Thrales, 65 - 102 ; writing a
comedy, 90, 208 ; Dr. Johnson
suggests " Streatham — a Farce,"
102 ; meets Mrs. Montagu, 120-
125 ; second edition of Evelina,
127 ; dread of personal criticism,
127-8 ; jest match, 133-135 ;
urged to employ her talents, 138;
warned as to posture, 138 ; morti-
fied at public reference, 161 ;
heedless of fame, 162 ; visits
Sir Joshua Reynolds, meets
Mrs. Cholmondeley, 170-180 ;
visits Mrs. Cholmondeley, meets
Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan, 186-
197 ; Sheridan offers to accept
compositions for stage, 195 ;
meets Dr. Warton, 196 ; intro-
duced to Arthur Murphy, 202 ;
tenders his advice, 205, 210 ;
comedy finished, 213, 215,
252, 255 ; first and second acts
shown to Mr. Murphy, 215,
219, 221 ; commences Latin,
216, 252, 448 ; visits Brighton,
216-229; her modesty, 247;
consulted by Dr. Delap, 225 ;
Dr. Johnson's praise, 247 ; Dr.
Burney advises suppression of
MS. comedy (The Witlings), 257 ;
Mr. Crisp's criticism and advice,
261-264, 321-323; visits Knole

and Tunbridge Wells, 273-280 ;
also Brighton, 280-311 ; shunned
by Richard Cumberland, 286,
289, 290, 291, 298; Sheridan
inquires for her play, 815 ;
The Witlings again revised, 316 ;
Mr. Crisp consulted, 316 ; Mr.
Murphy's interest for her play,
319-20, 449 ; life at Bath, 327-
426 ; meets second Lord Mul-
grave, 336 ; Mrs. Elizabeth
Carter, 390 ; encounter with a
lady misanthrope, 395-400, 418-
419 ; No- Popery riots at Bath,
421-426 ; travelling by devious
roads to Brighton, 426-7 ; visits
Dr. Johnson in town, 437 ; also
Sir J. Reynolds, 438-9; her
view of Johnson's Lives of the
Poets, 443 ; illness, 444, 448,
449, 459, 460, 462; at Brighton,
445 ; visited by Mr. Murphy,
449 ; at Streatham, 450 ; at
Chessington, brother's promo-
tion, 453 ; writing Cecilia, 463,
463 n. ; at Grosvenor Square,
463-5; with Sir J. Reynolds,
465 ; death of Mr. Thrale, sym-
pathy with Mrs. Thrale, 469-
470, 471 ; at Streatham, 472 ;
quarrel with Mr. Crutchley,
479-486, 489, 490.

Letters of, 35, 39, 43, 160,
211, 212, 254, 256, 259, 264,
311, 313, 422, 427, 432, 434,
437, 442, 450, 451, 453, 454,
462, 468, 470, 471

Butt, Rev. George, 361 n.

Byron, Capt. George Anson, 347,
375

Byron, Admiral the Hon. John,
267, 332/1., 375, 379, 446,
461

Byron, Mrs. Sophia, grandmother
of Lord Byron, 267, 332, 333,
347, 374, 387, 390, 392, 394,
400, 402, 410, 411, 412, 433,
461, 497

Byron, Miss Augusta, 333, 347,
351, 372, 376, 387, 392, 393,
394, 400, 403, 408, 410, 433,
446, 464

Byron, Mrs. Juliana E., 348

Byron, Mr., 468

516

INDEX

Caldwell, Misses, 420

Calvert, Dr., 103, 104, 105, 131

Cambridge, R. O., 314 n.

Camp in Hyde and St. James's

Parks, 429, 436
Campbell, Mrs., 329
Campbell, Colonel, 393, 408
Campbell, Lady F., 254
Candide, 236, 237
" Captain Mirvan," 131
Carmichael, Miss, 113 n.
Carter, Mrs. Elizabeth, 102 n.,
387, 390, 391, 403, 411, 462, 492
Castles family, 435
Cator, John, 472, 500, 501
Cator, Mrs., 497
Cecilia, Miss Burney's, 250 n.3

312 n., 316, 322, 344, 463
Chadwick, Mr., 415
Chamier, Anthony, 266 n., 267,

269, 439, 441
Chamier, Mrs. , 446
Chancellor family, 11 n.
,y Chapone, Mrs. Hester, 359
Chappel, Mrs., 127 n.
Chatterton, Thomas, 92, 356
Chaworth, Mary, 283 n.
Chessington Hall, 10, 11, 14, 28,
35, 49, 51, 98, 213, 255, 264,
311, 321, 345, 361, 434, 443,
451, 455
Chesterfield, Lord, 296
Chewton, Viscount, 466 n.
Children, 67
Cholmley, Mr., 335, 344
Cholmley, Mrs., 329, 331, 333,
334, 335, 344, 352, 363, 377,
380, 385, 392, 401
Cholmley, Miss Ann, 334
Cholmondeley, Hon. and Rev.
Robert, 171, 172, 177, 180, 184,
186
Cholmondeley, Mrs. Mary, 38,
40, 46, 106, 107, 174-180, 186,
187, 189, 193, 197, 214, 315,
438, 441
Cholmondeley, Miss, 171, 172, 186
Cholmondeley, Miss Fanny, 171,

172, 179, 186
Cibber's Apology, 322, 344
Cipriani, J. B., 465
Circulating library, 24 n., 27, 31,

281 n.
Clandestine Marriage, 96

Clarendon's History, 243

Clarissa, 243

Gierke, Sir Philip Jennings, 199,
200-1, 201 n., 215, 229, 230,
231, 232, 234, 235, 237, 238,
239, 240, 246,247, 249, 326, 327,
361, 421, 461, 476, 477, 478, 496

Gierke, Captain, 317, 320, 436,
437

Clinton, Lord John, 440, 461, 465

Clubs : — Essex, 55 n. ; Ivy Lane,

58 n. ; Blue-Stocking, 109 n. ,
189rc. ; Garrick, 165n. ; Literary,

59 n., 269 n., 282 n.
Coleraine, see Dean
Collinson, Miss, 497
Colman, the elder, George, 57 n.
Comedies, 148, 150 n., 150-2, 162,

164
Concannon, Lucius, 218
Congreve, William, 164
Conway, Hon. Captain, 453
Cook, Captain James, 317, 318,

319, 320, 437
Cooke, Miss Kitty, 11, 42, 136,

211, 320, 472, 475
Cooke, Miss Kitty, 445
Cooper, Miss, 330, 331, 336, 365,

378, 387, 388, 390, 391, 422
Cornwallis, Sir William, 267
Cotton, Captain, 375
Cotton [Mrs. Davenant], 458 n.,

461
Coussmaker, Miss Catherine, 33,

34, 464
Coventry, Lady, 253 n.
Cowley, Johnson's Life of, 114,

117, 118
Crebillon, 152
Crewe, Mrs., 187, 214
Crisp, Mr. Samuel, 10, 11, 17, 29,

30, 31, 34, 36, 39, 44, 47, 49, 52,

62-4, 65, 73, 85, 116, 120, 137,

149, 184, 211, 212, 249, 253 n.,

254, 258, 259, 266, 311, 313,

342, 345, 349, 356, 452, 455,

458 7i., 471, 473

Letters of, 62, 137, 149, 163,

261, 321, 342, 473
Crisp, Sam, of Greenwich, 349
Crispen, Mr., 330, 345
Critic, The, Sheridan's, 330, 450
Critical Review, 28
Criticism, literary, 183

INDEX

517

Crofts, Mr., 265

Crutchley, Mr. J., 133, 134, 468,

469, 472, 475, 477,478, 47i),481,

486, 488, 489, 490, 491,492, 493,

494, 496, 497, 504, 505, 506
Click-field, 217
Cumberland, Richard, 69, 70, 91,

132, 187, 188, 286,287, 289, 290,

291, 298
Cumberland, Mrs., 282, 286, 288,

289
Cumberland, Miss, 187
Cumberland family, 286, 287-8,

297
Cure, Mr., 283, 284, 297

Dallas, Miss C. H., 347, see
Byron, Capt. G. A.

Dairy m pie's Memoirs, 243

Davenant, Mr., 493

Davenant, Mrs., 451, 458, 461,
493, 495, 496

Dean of Coleraine, 438
v<Delany, Mrs. , 246 n., 337 n.

Delap, Dr. John, 219, 222, 223,
224, 225, 227, 229, 236, 239,
240, 241, 268, 273, 290, 294,
298, 302, 303, 440, 446, 467, 468

Dellingham, Mrs., 401, 413, 414

Denoyers, the, 363

Desmoulins, Mrs., Ill, 112

Destouches, Nericault, 91 n.

Devaynes, Mr., 266

Devizes, 324, 325, 372

Devonshire, Georgiana, Duchess
of, 374, 385, 466

Dibdin, Charles, 278 n.

Dickens, Mrs., 282, 284, 287, 296

Dickens, Miss, 290

Ditcher, Philip, 370

Ditcher, Miss, 370, 387

Dobson, Mrs. Susannah, 360, 365,
366, 369, 370

Dodsley, Mr., 15

Dorset, Duke of, 187

D'Orvilliers, 268

Double Deception, Miss Richard-
son's, 213

Douglas, Home's, 409

Doyle, Sir A. Conan, Rodney Stone,
72 n.

Drossiana, Seward's, 55 n.

Drummonds, the, 441

Drury Lane Theatre, 195

Dryden, John, 71, 86 ; Tempest,

288
Dunbar, Dr., 435
' ' Duval, Madame," 59

Early Diary, Miss Burney's, 20 n.,
27 n., 38 n., 54 n., 55 n., 56 n.,
79n.,91?i.,102w.,110?i.,138n.,
141 n., 304 n., 338 n., 345 n.,
349 n., 433 n., 458 n., 460 n.

Edwy and Edilda, 339

Eliot [Edward Craggs, first Lord],
466

Ellis, Mrs. Raine, 64 n.

Embry, Mr., 142, 143, 145

Emily, Miss, 466

Epitaphs, curious, 217, 280

Essex Club, 55 n.

Estaing, Count d', 267

Euston, Earl of, 466 n.

Evans, Rev. Mr. , 318

Evelina : or A Young Lady's
Entrance into the World, 13,
15, 16, 17, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26,
27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34,
36, 38, 39, 41, 42, 43-55, 59,
60-62, 72, 73-4, 77, 90, 92, 93,
94, 95-98, 104, 105, 106, 107,
108, 109, 110, 113, 117, 124,
131, 137, 140, 148, 158, 159,
161, 175, 184, 191, 192, 193,
203, 214, 229, 231, 247, 251,
258, 262, 276, 283-4, 291, 298,
338, 339, 353, 359, 360, 364,
369, 391, 411, 418, 451, 461,
463, 492

Evelyn, Miss, see Price

Everything a Bore, 233, 241-2

Farinelli, 444

Feather ornaments, 70
/Female Quixote, Mrs. Lenox's, 86

Ferry, Mr., 388, 389

Fielding, Henry, novels, 33, 72,
90, 95, 122, 126, 151, 174;
Amelia, 48 n.
v-Fielding, Miss Sarah, 86 n., 409

Finch, Rev. Dr., 401, 413, 414

Fisher, Mr., 218, 219

Fisher, Kitty, 84

Fitzgerald, young, 218, 219

Flint, Bet, 82, 83

1 ' Flummery," 63 n.

Forrest, Miss, 172, 187

518

INDEX

Forster's Life of Goldsmith, 77 n.
Forster, Mrs., 365
Fountains, The, Johnson's, 169 n.
Francklin, Dr. Thomas, 157, 167,

168
Franks, letter, 455, 457, 460
Friend, Dr., 45
Frodsham, Captain, 379, 392, 400,

411, 421
Fuller, Captain, 220, 223, 226,

228, 230, 234, 235, 461
Fuller, Mr. Rose, 79, 87, 88 n.,

103, 105, 108, 130, 131, 132,

142, 268, 293, 300
Fuller, Mr. Stephen, 131, 132,

268

Gainsborough, Thomas, 458 n.,

505
Garrick, David, 10, 57, 58, 103,

188, 262, 303, 346, 361 n., 409
Garrick, Mrs., 3, 492
Gast, Mrs., 11, 42, 47, 166, 255,

256, 320, 342, 346, 349, 356,

488
Gay, John, 443
German Tour, Dr. Burney's, 14,

15 n.
Giardini, Felice de, 156
Gillies, Dr. John, 265
Goldsmith, Oliver, 76, 77, 132,

150 n., 209, 272; Good-naturd

Man, 76, 455 n. ; Retaliation,

28 n., 100 n.
Gordon, Lord George, 421, 423,

424, 427, 436, 441, 455
<c Grafton, Mr." i.e. Miss Burney,

22, 23
Gray, Thomas, 1 n. ; Ode, 341 n.
Gregory, Dr. John, 115
Gregory, Miss, 115, 117, 120, 122,

123, 124, 329, 331, 334, 338,

340, 341, 344, 351, 353, 360,

363, 373
Grenada, 264 n., 267
Grenville, Mr., 424
Gresham, Lady, 210
Greville, Mrs., 10, 45, 214, 262 n.,

276, nee Macartney
Greville, Hon. Charles, 466,

467 n.
Greville, Fulke, 10, 262, 264,

265, 458 n.
Grosvenor Square, 463, 465, 468 n.

Grub Street, 438, 441
Guest, Miss, 340, 358, 359
Gulliver s Travels, 343
Gunning, Countess of Coventry,

Maria, 399
Gwatkin, Mr. R. L., 171, 179
Gwatkin, Mrs., nee Offy Palmer,

103 n.
Gwyn, Mrs., nee Horneck, 465

Hales, Lady, 33, 34, 45, 163
Hall, an engraver, 214
Hamilton, Christopher, 11
Hamilton, the wit, 294
Hamilton [William Gerard], 308,

309, 310
Hamilton, Mrs., 212, 320, 452
Hamilton, Miss, 11
Harcourt, George Simon, second

Earl, 189, 190
Hardy, Sir Charles, 268 n.
Harington, Dr. Henry, 332, 336,

356, 367, 368, 376, 386, 388, 423
Harington, Rev. Henry, 356,

367 n., 368, 369, 370, 387
Harington, Miss, 387
Harington, Sir John, 356
Harrington, Lord, 338
Harris, Mr. F. Leverton, M. P. , ix
Harris, James, 86, 428
Hawkesworth, Dr. John, 10, 141
Hawkins, Sir John, 58
Hay, Mr., 426

Hayward's Autobiography of Mrs.
v Piozzi, 72, 204
Heberden, Dr. William, 310, 448
Hermes, J. Harris's, 86 n.
Hervey, Dr., of Tooting, 253
Hervey, Mrs., 120
Hesketh, Lady, 445
HinchclifFe, Bishop of Peterboro',

221, 222, 229, 372, 373, 377,

383, 387
Hinchcliffe, Mrs. , 461
Hinde, Mrs., 342
Hoadley, Dr., 409
Hoare, William, R.A., 326, 339
Hoare, Mrs. Merrick, nee Sophia

Thrale, 159
Hogarth's Analysis of Beauty, 89
Holroyd, Colonel, see Sheffield,

Lord
Home, John, 409 n.
Hooke, N., 342 n.

INDEX

519

Hoole, Mr. John, 435

Hope, Duchess of Devonshire's Ode

to, 374
Horneck, Catherine, 497 n.
Horneck, Miss Mary, 171; see

Gwyn, 465
Horneck, Mrs., 167, 171, 173
Hotham, Sir Charles, 426
Hothamite, 426
Huddesford, Rev. George, 158 n.,

180, 182, 185
Hudibras, quoted, 118 ; Johnson

on, 86
Hume's Essays, 399
Humphries, Miss, 24, 25, 26
Humphry, Ozias, 156, 167, 495
Hunt, Mr., 363
Hunter, Dr., 318
Huntingdon, Lord, 385, 394
Hutton, Mr., 192
Hutton, John, the Moravian, 10
Hyde Park, 429, 436

Inglish, Lady Dorothy, 373, 382,

415
Ingram, Mr., 464
Irene, Johnson's, 90, 146, 147
Italian Tour, Dr. Burney's, 14

Jebb, Dr., Sir Richard, 75, 103,
133, 244, 455, 461, 468, 497

Jennings, Rev. Mr. , 496

Jerningham, Edward, 350, 351,
352, 357

Jess, Miss Emily, 446

" Jessamy Bride," 171 n.

Johnson, Dr. Samuel, 40, 46, 48,
49, 50, 54, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 63,
66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 76,
77, 78, 79, 79 n., 80, 81, 82-84,
85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 92, 93, 94,
95, 99, 101, 102, 103, 109, 110,
111, 112-120, 123, 124, 125,
128-9, 130, 132, 133-135, 136,
137, 138, 140, 141, 142, 146, 147,
163, 168, 181, 182, 183, 184,
188, 198, 199, 200-1, 204, 205,
207,209, 210, 211, 216,231, 237,
245, 247,249,250, 252, 254, 265,
272, 276, 291, 300, 323, 327,
339, 371, 411, 421, 426, 435,
437, 438, 441, 443, 448, 449,
450, 453, 454, 459, 462, 464,
467, 469, 471, 473, 475, 476,

487, 489, 494, 498-501, 509;

Lives of the Poets, 443
Johnson, General, or Commodore,

336
" John-Trot," 222
Journal, Miss Burney's, 163

Kauffman, Angelica, 465

Keate, George, Sketches from

Nature, 252
Keith, Lady, nee Thrale, 54 n.,

159 n.
Kelly's False Delicacy, 48 n.
Kenrick, Dr. William, 28, 32
King, Captain James, 466
King, Mr., 173
Kinnaird, Miss Margaret, 141
Kirwans, the, 452
Kirwans, Miss, 430
Knole Park, 270, 270-1, pictures,

271-2
Know your own Mind, Murphy's,

Lade [or Ladd], Sir John, 72,

73, 135, 450
Lade [or Ladd], Lady, 103, 105,

108, 109, 110, 117, 141, 144,

145, 250, 251, 252, 268, 269,

318, 449
Lcelius : an Essay on Friendship, 55
Lalauze, Mr., 250
Lambart, General, 328
Lamhart, Mrs., 328, 329, 331, 335,

339, 361, 362, 373, 374, 380,

385, 390, 394, 408, 411, 412,

415, 417, 478, 496
Langton, Bennet, 66, 68, 111 n.
La Trobe, 10

Lawrence, Sir Thomas, 325, 326
Lawrence, Dr. Thomas, 339
Lawrence, Mrs., mother of Sir

Thomas, 324, 372
Lee, General Charles, 331, 348
Lee, the Bath actor, 351, 376,

409
Lee, Mrs. Sydney, 331, 338, 348
Legacy of Advice, Gregory's, 115 n.
Leicester Fields, 466
Leigh, Mrs., 355, 391, 400
Leigh, Miss, 345, 348, 349, 350,

355, 357, 361, 379, 391, 392,

401, 410, 411
Leinster, Duchess of, 254

520

INDEX

Lenox, Mrs. Charlotte, 86
Lenthal, Mrs. Molly, 166
Levett [Robert], 112
Lewis, John, Dean of Ossory, 329,

335, 339, 340, 358, 372, 377,

401, 413
Lewis, Mrs., 335, 357, 377, 401
Lewis, Miss Charlotte, 328, 330,

335, 339, 377, 378, 401, 402,

403, 414
Lewis, Miss, 339, 357
Ligonier, John, Earl, 293
Lindsay, Lady Anne, 244
Linguet, S. N. H., 121 n., 125
Linley, Miss, afterwards Mrs.

Tickell, 187, 192, 197
Lives of the Poets, Johnson's, 86,

99, 114 n., 173
Locke, Mrs., 17
London Review, 28
Long, Dudley, 467
Lort, Rev. Michael, 91, 92, 93,

94, 95, 96, 98, 103, 476
Love, Norris's Theory of, 114
Lowe, Mauritius, 494
Lowndes, Thomas, 15, 16 n., 23,

32, 38, 61, 95, 97, 178, 192,

]93 n., 214, 247 n,, 285; letters

to "Mr. Grafton," 23, 39
Lyell, Mrs., 506
Lynn Journal, see also Early Diary,

14
Lynn, King's, 3, 9, 12, 14
Lyttelton, Lord, Life of, 497, 498-

501

Macaria, Dr. Delap's play, 219 n.,

223, 224
Macaulay, Lord, on Mme. D'Arb-

lay, vi, 28 n., 346 n.
Macbean, [Alexander], 111, 112
" Mag," 118

Manningham, Dr., 363, 411
Marivaux, 152
Marlborough, Sarah, Duchess of,

342
Marmontel, 9 n.
Mason, Rev. Wm., 10, 167 ; Elegy

on Lady Coventry, 399
" Master" for husband, 69 n.
Mathias, T. J., 55 n.
Maud, Sir Cornwallis, 334, 335
Melmoth, William, 55 n., 364,

365

Memoirs, writing of, 1

Merlin [John Joseph], 458, 503,

504, 505
Merlin's Cave, 458 n.
Michell, Mr., 228, 229
Middleton, Dr., 237
Milford, Lady, 378
Militia, Sussex, 220
Miller, Sir John, 380 n., 393, 415,

420
Miller, Lady, 328, 380, 381, 382,

393, 415, 417, 420
Miller, Miss, 419

Miller's Vase, Lady, 186, 328, 393,

394, 415, 415-16 n., 420
Milles, Dr. Jeremiah, Dean of

Exeter, 357

Millico, Giuseppe, 324

Minorca, 301, 302

Moliere's Femmes Scavantes, 259

Montagu, Admiral John, 5, 76

Montagu, Mrs. [Elizabeth, nee
Robinson], 82, 109, 110, 115,
116, 120, 121, 122, 123, 124,
151, 165, 183, 214, 276, 316 n.,
329, 331, 334, 338, 339, 341,
343, 344, 352, 353, 360, 363,
364, 373, 383, 403, 436, 455,
460, 461, 462, 492, 498, 502 n.

Montagu House, 116 n., 123

Monthly Review, 28, 31, 43

Mordaunt, Lord, 218, 219, 221

More, Hannah, 10, 99, 148, 188,
v 403, 492

Mortimer, John Hamilton, 214

Moss, Miss, 142

Mulgrave, Constantino, second
Lord, 334, 335, 336 n., 337,
338, 344, 352, 375, 377, 383,
384, 386, 401

Murphy [Arthur], 91, 103, 159,
185, 202-5, 208, 209, 210, 215,
218, 219, 221, 222, 224, 225,
227, 228, 229, 258, 318, 319,
323, 449

Music, Burney's History of, 13, 15,
155, 459

Musters, Mrs., 283, 287

" Muzzing," 177

" Nancy Dawson," 40, 165
Necker, Mons, 7
Nesbitt, Mrs., 230, 497
Newnham, Mr., 282

INDEX

521

Newton, Sir Isaac, 102 n., 442 n. ;

Observatory, 11 n.
Noilekens, Joseph, 10
No Popery riots, 421, 423-0, 427,

433
Norris, Rev. John, 114
North, Mrs., 373, 374
Northcote, James, 467 n.
NugcB Antiques, Hariugton's, 350,

367 n.

Ode to Dr. Burney, 32
O'Hara, Kane, Two Misers, 333
Orange Coffee House, 15 n., 38
Ord, Mrs., 69, 188, 329, 353, 391,

401, 435, 436, 461
Ord, Miss, 391, 464
O'Riley, Mrs., 478
O'Riley, Miss, 478, 479
Ossory, Dean of, see Lewis
Owen, Miss, 363, 364, 431, 433,

434, 436, 475, 478, 482, 490, 503
Owhyhee court dress, 460

Pacchierotti, Gasparo, 155, 187,

323, 324, 346, 347, 434, 435-6,

441, 452
Palmer, Misses, 103, 104, 105,

109, 113, 168, 170
Palmer, Miss Mary, 103 n., 179,

465
Palmer, Miss Offy, 103 n., 104,

106, 107, 109, 171, 181
Palmerston, Henry Temple, second

Viscount, 173, 174, 177, 178,

180, 184
Paradises, the, 435
Parker, Dr. and Mrs., 231, 476
Parker family, 455
Parsons, Sir William, 278
Party, political, 200, 201
Pembroke, Lady, 283, 287, 300
Pendarves, Mrs. , see Delany
Pennant, Thomas, 75
Pepys, Dr. [Sir Lucas], 440, 461,

468
Pepys, Mr. [Sir William Weller],

159, 269, 435, 436, 497, 498,

499, 500, 501, 502
Pepys, Mrs., 391
Percy, Hannah More's, 148
Percv's Reliques, 60 n.
Perkins, Mr., 421, 427, 432, 478,

487

Perkins, Mrs., 478
Peterborough, Bp. of, see Hinch-

cliffe
Petrarca, 369

Petrarch's Life, Mrs. Dobson's, 360
Philips, Thomas, 296 n.
Philips, Miss, 377, 378, 402, 415
Phillips, Captain Molesworth, 458,

460
Phipps, Hon. Augustus, 334, 336
Phipps, Hon. Edmund, 250, 251,

337, 338
Phipps, Hon. Harry, 250
Pianofortes, 458 n.
Pigot, Sir Robert, 373, 394
wPilkington, Mrs., 84 n.
Pinkerton's Walpoliana, 1 n.
Pinkethman, Mrs., 84
Piozzi [Gabriele], 156, 266, 351,

460, 504
Pitches family, 139, 503 ; Sir

Abraham, 253 n. ; Miss Sophy,

253 ; Miss Peggy, 253
Pitt, Christopher, JEneid, 5
Pleydell, Mrs., 277
Pleydell, Miss, 361
Plumbe, Mrs., 476
Poggi, 465
Poland Street, 4, 5
"Poll" [Carmichael], 113
Pope, Alexander, 5, 22, 40, 92,

232, 246, 262, 419; Temple of

Fame, 22 ; Essay on Criticism,

151 n. ; Rape of the Lock, 144 n.
Porteus, Bishop Beilby, 358, 364,

365
Porteus, Mrs., 365
Portland, Duchess of, 343
Poyntz, Mrs., 334, 363, 392
Poyntz, Miss, 360
Price, Mrs., nee Evelyn, 465
Prior, Matthew, 238 n., 443
Prior's Life of Malone, 58 n.
Prior Park, 327 n.
Pugh, Mr., 340
Pursuits of Literature, 55 n.

Queen Dido [Miss Burney], 224

Queen Square, 5, 9, 11

Quin, James, 63, 409

Quotations from Hamlet, 63 n. ;
from Dry den, 71 ; from Pope's
Rape of the Lock, 144 n. ; Essay
on Criticism, 151 n. ; from

522

INDEX

Richardson's Clarissa, 158 n. ;
Sheridan's School for Scandal,
194 n. ; from Prior, 238 n. :
from Pope's Epistle to Arbuthnot,
262 ; from Walpole's Twicken-
ham Register, 295 n. ; from
Churchill's Rosciad, 346 ; from
Mason's Elegy on the Death of a
Lady, 399 ; from Pope, 451 ;
from Addison's Cato, 467

Radnor, Lady, 34

Rambler, Johnson's, 77

Ranelagh, 431

Rauzzini, Venanzio, 304, 401

Reigate, 217, 447

Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 60, 61,
76 n., 77 n., 84 n., 103,
104, 105, 108, 109, 113, 121,
132 n., 133, 161, 167, 169, 174,
175, 179, 185, 189, 191, 192,
193, 194-5, 214, 267, 272, 291,
301, 326, 342, 438, 439, 465,
466, 505

Reynolds, Mrs. [i.e. Miss Frances,
60 n.], 60, 167, 265, 435

Riccoboni, Madame, 48

Richardson, Samuel, 48, 86, 89,
90, 94, 370

Richardson, Miss, of Tower Hill,
213

Richmond, third Duke of, 226

Riggs, Mrs., 415, 417, 419

" Rigmarole," 434 n.

Robertson's America, 243

Romney, George, 132

Rothes, Lady, 440, 461

Rouged, i.e., blushed, 337

Royal Academy, 167

Royal Suppliants, The, Dr. Delap's
play, 219 n.

Rudd, Margaret Caroline, 84

Russell on Sea Water, 440

Sacchini, Antonio M. G. , 272, 350,

359
St. James's, Court of, 460
St. James's Park, 429, 436
St. James's, Westminster, 9
St. Martin's Street, 11, 36, 54 n.,

55 n., 73, 76, 102, 141, 154,

180, 193, 311, 313, 378 n., 427,

428, 433 n., 446, 452
Sage, Miss, 383

Salusbury, Hester Lynch, see

V Thrale, Mrs., 36 n.

Sandwich, Lord, 436

Sandys, Lord, 465

Sastres, Signor, 264

School for Scandal, Sheridan's,
190, 194, 330

Scotch, Johnson and, 78

Scott, Sir Walter, 49 n.

Scrase, Richard, 431, 436, 441,
472

Seaton, Mr. H., 378

Sefton, Lord, 300

Selwyn, Mr., 299 n., 302, 304,
305, 306, 311, 446, 468, 476

Seward, William, 55, 60, 63, 74,
91, 92, 93, 95, 99, 100, 103,
139, 140, 142, 143, 145, 181,
185, 186, 210, 230, 232, 233,
235, 236, 237, 238, 240, 241,
243, 251, 269, 319, 331, 448,
451, 464, 494, 496, 497, 498,
499, 500, 501, 506, 507, 510

Seymour, Lord Hugh, 466 n.

Shakespeare's Tempest, 288

Shakespeare, Mrs. Montagu on
the Genius of, 341

Sheffield, John Baker Holroyd,
Lord, 464 n.

Sheffield, Lady, 465

Shelley, Sir John and Lady, 287,
288

Shelley, Sir John, 436 n.

Shelley, Lady, 440, 445

Shenstone, William, 499

Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, 190,
193-196, 255, 315, 321, 323,
344, 347, 361

Sheridan, Mrs. R. B., 187, 190

Shirley, Lady Fanny, 295

Siddons, Mrs., 351

Sir Charles Grandison, 418

Sleepe, Mr. , 430

Smelt, Leonard, 324, 334

Smith, Henry, cousin to Mr.
Thrale, 133, 134, 473

Smollett, T.,327w.

Society of Arts, 265

Solander, Dr. Daniel Charles,
318, 319, 320

Somerset House, 430

Spectator, The, 232

Spence [Joseph], 5 n.

Spencer, Lady, 374

INDEX

523

Spouting Clubs, 103 n.

Stael, Madame de, 7

Sterne's Sentimental Journey, 252

Stow, Miss, 446

Strange, Sir Robert and Lady, 10

Streatfield, Mrs., 273, 274, 275,

343
Streatfield, Miss Sophia, 88, 102,

109, 111, 165, 184, 185, 209,
210, 211, 231, 232, 233, 234,
236, 237, 238, 239, 244, 245,
273, 305, 331, 339 n., 443, 461,
464, 503

Streatham, 48, 50, 51, 53, 60,

65, 76, 85, 100, 101, 102, 108,
118, 119, 131, 136, 169, 181,
184, 198, 206, 211, 212, 228,
231, 248, 266, 268, 421, 431,
444, 453, 472, 510; the garden,
139 ; the church, 139, 231

Stuart, Andrew, 301, 302

Swift, Dean, 37, 139, 232, 246 n.}

343
Swinfen, Dr., Ill n.
Sylph, The, 192, 193, 374, 418

Tale of a Tub, Swift's, 139
Tambour waistcoat, 74
Tattersall, Rev. Mr., 66, 388
Tattersall, Mrs., 432
Tedder, Mr. Henry R., x
Teignmouth, 64

Thomas's Library, 281, 289, 440
Thomond, Marchioness of, see

Palmer, Miss, 103 n.
Thompsons, Miss, 326
Thrale, Mr., 46, 53, 66, 68, 72,

73, 81, 85, 91, 92, 93, 99, 102,
105, 109, 113, 123, 128, 132,
135, 136, 141, 145, 199, 201 n.,
217, 218, 224, 226, 229, 230,
231, 233, 241, 243, 249, 254,
270, 280, 282, 283, 288, 291,
304, 318, 324, 325, 327, 332,
353, 372, 377, 391, 393, 421,
422, 439, 444, 447, 448, 450,
454, 455, 468, 471

Thrale, Mrs., 36, 37, 40, 41,
45, 46, 49, 50, 51, 54-8, 59,

66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73,

74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81,
82, 84, 85, 86, 88, 89, 90, 92,
93, 96, 97, 98, 101, 104-7, 109,

110, 111, 112, 114-119, 121, 122,

123, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130,
132, 133, 134, 135, 136, 137,
139, 142, 143, 145, 146, 147,
159, 163, 169, 181, 183, 185,
193, 196, 198, 202, 204, 207,
208, 209, 211, 216, 220, 221,
222, 223, 226, 228, 229, 232,
233, 237, 238, 239, 244, 245,
247, 249, 251, 258, 259, 262,
266, 270, 275, 280, 285, 289,
290, 291, 302, 304, 306, 310,
318, 323, 329, 331, 336, 342,
343, 344, 352, 354, 362, 364,
365, 369, 370, 371, 375, 376,
377, 388, 390, 405-406, 410,
411, 4 J 2, 422, 423, 434, 437,
446, 447, 448, 450, 458 n., 467,
472, 473, 475, 477, 481, 482,
487, 491, 497, 498, 501

y Letters of, 48, 158, 266, 431,
440, 457, 459, 460

Thrale, Miss Hester Maria, 36,
54, 66, 79, 99, 104, 105, 122,
123, 128, 133, 216, 217, 229,
230, 235, 270, 285, 288, 290,
311, 328, 332, 367, 368, 381,
405, 408, 411, 432, 434, 439,
446, 447, 454, 464, 470, 477,
480, 481, 483, 486, 487, 495

Thrale, Miss Sophia, 91, 432, 442

Thrale, Miss Susan, 91, 216, 432,
442

Thrale' s Brewery, 487, 491

Thrale Gallery, 458 n. ; sale of,
458 n.

Three Warnings, Mrs. Thrale, 475

Tidy, Mr., 299, 308, 311, 440, 446

Timoleon, Rev. G. Butt's, 361,
362, 438

" Toad," a, 71, 176

Travell, "Beau," 385, 405, 413,
417

Troubadours, Mrs. Dobson's, 360

Tunbridge, 183, 272

Tunbridge Wells, 272, 273, 274,
275

Twining, Mr., 10

Twiss, Richard, 37

Tyers, Thomas, 79

Tyson, Mr., 394, 402, 410

Vanbrugh, Sir John, 164
Vanbrugh, Mr. and Mrs., 394,
411

524

INDEX

Vesey, Mrs. Elizabeth, 189, 253,

254
Vicar of Wakefield, Goldsmith's,

77
Vincent, Mrs., 478
Virginia, Crisp's, 261 n.
Vyse, Dr. W., 232 n.

Waldegrave, Ladies Horatia,

Laura, and Maria, 466
Wallace, James, 479, 481, 503
Wallace, Mrs., 476, 503
Waller, Johnson's Life of, 114, 136
Walpole, Horace, 1 n., 62, 159 n.,

431 n.
Walsingham, Hon. Capt., 317
Warley Common, 111 ; and camp,

111 n.
Warley : a Satire, Huddesford's,

158, 161, 163, 168, 170, 171,

180
Warton, Dr. Joseph, 191, 196
Webber, John, 466
Wedderburne, Alexander, Lord

Loughborough, 275, 276, 343
Wedderburne, Mrs., 276
West, Sir Benjamin, 465
Westcote, Lord and Lady, 476

West Indies, 267

Weston, Miss, 380, 382, 383, 392,

393, 409, 414
Whalley, Rev. T. S., 328, 367,

368, 370, 380, 383, 387, 393
Whalley, Mrs., 393, 415
White, Mr. and Mrs., 394
Widgett, library, Brighton, 226,

281 n.
Wilkes, John, 57
Williams, Mrs. Anna, 50, 51, 81,

84, 98, 113, 184, 185, 475
Willis, Miss, 335
Wilson, Mrs., 360, 363, 377
Windsor Forest, Pope's, 246
Witlings, The, Miss Burney's, 91,

213, 219 n., 256-9, 259 n.s 262,

293, 296, 341, 362
Woodward, Dr., 332, 336, 358
Worcester, Bishop of, 374
Wraxall's Memoirs, 252
Wyndham, Hon. Mr., 410, 415,

417

Young, Arthur, 10

Young, Rev. Edward, Night

Thoughts, 2 n.
Young, Miss Dorothy, 168, 169

•

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