diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/61468-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/61468-0.txt | 9066 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 9066 deletions
diff --git a/old/61468-0.txt b/old/61468-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index d10a3bf..0000000 --- a/old/61468-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9066 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's Memoirs of Doctor Burney (Vol. 1 of 3), by Fanny Burney - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: Memoirs of Doctor Burney (Vol. 1 of 3) - Arranged from his own manuscripts, from family papers, and - from personal recollections by his daughter, Madame d'Arblay - -Author: Fanny Burney - -Release Date: February 21, 2020 [EBook #61468] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIRS OF DOCTOR BURNEY *** - - - - -Produced by MWS, Brian Wilsden and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE: - Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. - - - - - MEMOIRS - - OF - - DOCTOR BURNEY. - - - - - CONTENTS - - Chapters. Page - ADVERTISEMENT. ii - PREFACE, OR APOLOGY. v - INTRODUCTION. x - MEMOIRS OF DOCTOR BURNEY. 1 - - - - - ADVERTISEMENT. - - -IT was the intention of the Biographer of DOCTOR BURNEY, to have -printed the Doctor’s Correspondence, in a fourth volume, at the same -time with the Memoir; but upon examining the collection, there appears -such a dearth of the Doctor’s own Letters, of which he very rarely kept -copies, that it seems to be expedient to postpone their publication, -till it can be rendered more complete; to which end, the Biographer -ventures earnestly to entreat, that all who possess any original -Letters of Doctor Burney, whether addressed to themselves, or retained -by inheritance, will have the goodness—where there seems no objection -to their meeting the public eye—to forward them to Mr. MOXON, who will -carefully transmit them to the Biographer, by whom they will afterwards -be restored to their owners, with the most grateful acknowledgments. - - - - - MEMOIRS - - OF - - DOCTOR BURNEY, - - ARRANGED - - FROM HIS OWN MANUSCRIPTS, FROM FAMILY PAPERS, AND - FROM PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS. - - BY - - HIS DAUGHTER, MADAME D’ARBLAY. - - “O could my feeble powers thy virtues trace, - By filial love each fear should be suppress’d; - The blush of incapacity I’d chace, - And stand—Recorder of Thy worth!—confess’d.” - - _Anonymous Dedication of Evelina, to Dr. Burney, in 1778._ - - IN THREE VOLUMES. - - VOL. I. - - LONDON: - - EDWARD MOXON, 64, NEW BOND STREET. - - 1832. - - - - - LONDON: - BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, - BOUVERIE STREET. - - - - -PREFACE, OR APOLOGY. - - -THE intentions, or, rather, the directions of Dr. Burney that his -Memoirs should be published; and the expectation of his family and -friends that they should pass through the hands of his present Editor -and Memorialist, have made the task of arranging the ensuing collations -with her own personal recollections, appear to her a sacred duty from -the year 1814.[1] - -But the grief at his loss, which at first incapacitated her from such -an effort, was soon afterwards followed by change of place, change of -circumstances—almost of existence—with multiplied casualties that, -eventually, separated her from all her manuscript materials. And these -she only recovered when under the pressure of a new affliction that -took from her all power, or even thought, for their investigation. -During many years, therefore, they have been laid aside, though never -forgotten. - -But if Time, as so often we lament, will not stand still upon -happiness, it would be graceless not to acknowledge, with gratitude -to Providence, that neither is it positively stationary upon sorrow: -for though there are calamities which it cannot obliterate, and wounds -which Religion alone can heal, Time yet seems endowed with a secret -principle for producing a mental calm, through which life imperceptibly -glides back to its customary operations; however powerless Time -itself—earthly Time!—must still remain for restoring lost felicity. - -Now, therefore,—most unexpectedly,—that she finds herself -sufficiently recovered from successive indispositions and afflictions -to attempt the acquittal of a debt which has long hung heavily upon her -mind, she ventures to re-open her manuscript stores, and to resume, -though in trembling, her long-forsaken pen. - -That the life of so eminent a man should not pass away without some -authenticated record, will be pretty generally thought; and the -circumstances which render her its recorder, grow out of the very -nature of things: she possesses all his papers and documents; and, -from her earliest youth to his latest decline, not a human being was -more confidentially entrusted than herself with the occurrences, the -sentiments, and the feelings of his past and passing days. - -Although, as biography, from time immemorial, has claimed the privilege -of being more discursive than history, the Memorialist may seek to -diversify the plain recital of facts by such occasional anecdotes -as have been hoarded from childhood in her memory; still, and most -scrupulously, not an opinion will be given as Dr. Burney’s, either of -persons or things, that was not literally his own: and fact will as -essentially be the basis of every article, as if its object were still -lent to earth, and now listening to this exposition of his posthumous -memoirs with her own recollections. - -Nevertheless, though nothing is related that does not belong to Dr. -Burney and his history, the accounts are not always rigidly confined to -his presence, where scenes, or traits, still strong in the remembrance -of the Editor, or still before her eyes in early letters or diaries, -invite to any characteristic details of celebrated personages. - -Not slight, however, is the embarrassment that struggles with the -pleasure of these mingled reminiscences, from their appearance of -personal obtrusion: yet, when it is seen that they are never brought -forward but to introduce some incident or speech, that must else -remain untold of Dr. Johnson, Mr. Burke, Mrs. Delany, Mrs. Thrale, -Mr. Bruce—nay, Napoleon—and some other high-standing names, of -recent date to the aged, yet of still living curiosity to the youthful -reader—these apparent egotisms may be something more,—perhaps—than -pardoned. - -Where the life has been as private as that of Dr. Burney, its history -must necessarily be simple, and can have little further call upon -the attention of the world, than that which may belong to a wish of -tracing the progress of a nearly abandoned Child, from a small village -of Shropshire, to a Man allowed throughout Europe to have risen to -the head of his profession; and thence, setting his profession aside, -to have been elevated to an intellectual rank in society, as a Man of -Letters— - - “Though not First, in the very first line” - -with most of the eminent men of his day,—Dr. Johnson and Mr. Burke, -soaring above any contemporary mark, always, like Senior Wranglers, -excepted. - -And to this height, to which, by means and resources all his own, -he arose, the Genius that impelled him to Fame, the Integrity that -established his character, and the Amiability that magnetized all -hearts,—in the phrase of Dr. Johnson—_to go forth to meet him_, were -the only materials with which he worked his way. - - - - -INTRODUCTION. - -COPIED FROM A MANUSCRIPT MEMOIR IN THE DOCTOR’S OWN HAND-WRITING. - - -IF the life of a humble individual, on whom neither splendid -appointments, important transactions, nor atrocious crimes have called -the attention of the public, can afford amusement to the friends he -leaves behind, without being offered either as a model to follow, or -a precipice to shun, the intention of the writer of these Memoirs -will be fully accomplished. But there is no member of society who, by -diligence, talents, or conduct, leaves his name and his race a little -better than those from which he sprung, who is totally without some -claim to attention on the means by which such advantages were achieved. - -My life, though it has been frequently a tissue of toil, sickness, -and sorrow, has yet been, upon the whole, so much more pleasant and -prosperous than I had a title to expect, or than many others with -higher claims have enjoyed, that its incidents, when related, may, -perhaps, help to put mediocrity in good-humour, and to repress the -pride and overrated worth and expectations of indolence. - -Perhaps few have been better enabled to describe, from an actual -survey, the manners and customs of the age in which he lived than -myself; ascending from those of the most humble cottagers, and lowest -mechanics, to the first nobility, and most elevated personages, with -whom circumstances, situation, and accident, at different periods of my -life, have rendered me familiar. Oppressed and laborious husbandmen; -insolent and illiberal yeomanry; overgrown farmers; generous and -hospitable merchants; men of business and men of pleasure; men of -letters; men of science; artists; sportsmen and country ’squires; -dissipated and extravagant voluptuaries; gamesters; ambassadors; -statesmen; and even sovereign princes, I have had opportunities of -examining in almost every point of view: all these it is my intention -to display in their respective situations; and to delineate their -virtues, vices, and apparent degrees of happiness and misery. - -A book of this kind, though it may mortify and offend a few persons -of the present age, may be read with avidity at the distance of some -centuries, by antiquaries and lovers of anecdotes; though it will have -lost the poignancy of personality. - -My grandfather, James Macburney, who, by letters which I have seen of -his writing, and circumstances concerning him which I remember to have -heard from my father and mother, was a gentleman of a considerable -patrimony at Great Hanwood, a village in Shropshire, had received a -very good education; but, from what cause does not appear, in the -latter years of his life, was appointed land steward to the Earl of -Ashburnham. He had a house in Privy Garden, Whitehall. In the year -1727, he walked as esquire to one of the knights, at the coronation of -King George the Second. - -My father, James, born likewise at Hanwood, was well educated also, -both in school learning and accomplishments. He was a day scholar -at Westminster School, under the celebrated Dr. Busby, while my -grandfather resided at Whitehall. I remember his telling a story of the -severe chastisement he received from that terrific disciplinarian, -Dr. Busby, for playing truant after school hours, instead of returning -home. My grandfather, who had frequently admonished him not to -loiter in the street, lest he should make improper and mischievous -acquaintance, finding no attention was paid to his injunctions, gave -him a letter addressed to the Reverend Dr. Busby; which he did not -fail to deliver, with ignorant cheerfulness, on his entrance into the -school. The Doctor, when he had perused it, called my father to him, -and, in a very mild, and seemingly good-humoured voice, said, “Burney, -can you read writing?” “Yes, Sir,” answered my father, with great -courage and flippancy. “Then read this letter aloud,” says the Doctor; -when my father, with an audible voice, began: “Sir, My son, the bearer -of this letter, having long disregarded my admonitions against stopping -to play with idle boys in his way home from school—” Here my father’s -voice faltered. “Go on,” says his master; “you read very well.” “I am -sorry to be under the necessity of entreating you to—to—to—to cor—” -Here he threw down the letter, and fell on his knees, crying out: -“Indeed, Sir, I’ll never do so again!—Pray forgive me!” “O, you read -perfectly well,” the Doctor again tells him, “pray finish the Letter:” -And making him pronounce aloud the words, “correct him;” complied with -my grandfather’s request in a very liberal manner. - -Whether my father was intended for any particular profession, I know -not, but, during his youth, besides his school learning, he acquired -several talents and accomplishments, which, in the course of his life, -he was obliged professionally to turn to account. He danced remarkably -well; performed well on the violin, and was a portrait painter of no -mean talents. - -Notwithstanding the Mac which was prefixed to my grandfather’s name, -and which my father retained for some time, I never could find at what -period any of my ancestors lived in Scotland or in Ireland, from one of -which it must have been derived. My father and grandfather were both -born in Shropshire, and never even visited either of those countries. - -Early in his life, my father lost the favour of his sire, by eloping -from home, to marry a young actress of Goodman’s-fields’ theatre, -by whom he had a very large family. My grandfather’s affection was -completely alienated by this marriage; joined to disapproving his -son’s conduct in other respects. To the usual obduracy of old age, -he afterwards added a far more than similar indiscretion himself, by -marrying a female domestic, to whom, and to a son, the consequence -of that marriage, he bequeathed all his possessions, which were very -considerable. Joseph, this son, was not more prudent than my father; -for he contrived, early in life, to dissipate his patrimony; and he -subsisted for many years in Norfolk, by teaching to dance. I visited -him in 1756, in a tour I made to Yarmouth. He lived then at Ormsby, a -beautiful village near that town, with an amiable wife, and a large -family of beautiful children, in an elegant villa, with a considerable -garden; and he appeared, at that time, in perfectly restored and easy -circumstances. - -N. B.—The fragment whence this is taken here stops. - - * * * * * - -This Introduction, which is copied literally from the hand-writing -of Dr. Burney, was both begun and dropped, as appears by a marginal -note, in the year 1782; but, from what cause is unknown, was neither -continued, nor resumed, save by occasional memorandums, till the year -1807, when the Doctor had reached the age of eighty-one, and was under -the dejecting apprehension of a paralytic seizure. From that time, -nevertheless, he composed sundry manuscript volumes, of various sizes, -containing the history of his life, from his cradle nearly to his grave. - -Out of the minute amplitude of this vast mass of matter, it has seemed -the duty of his Editor and Memorialist, to collect all that seemed to -offer any interest for the general reader; but to commit nothing to the -public eye that there is reason to believe the author himself would -have withheld from it at an earlier period; or would have obliterated, -even at a much later, had he revised his writings after the recovery of -his health and spirits. - - - - -MEMOIRS - -OF - -DOCTOR BURNEY. - - -CHARLES BURNEY was born at Shrewsbury, on the twelfth of April, 1726. - -He was issue of a second marriage, of a very different colour with -respect to discretion, or to prejudice, from that with the account -of which he has opened his own narration. The poor actress was no -more; but neither her hardly judged, though enthusiastically admired -profession, nor her numerous offspring, nor the alienation she had -unhappily caused in the family, proved obstacles to the subsequent -union of her survivor with Miss * * * who in those days, though young -and pretty, was called Mrs. Ann Cooper, a Shropshire young lady, of -bright parts and great personal beauty; as well as an inheritress of -a fortune which, for the times, was by no means inconsiderable. The -parchments of the marriage settlement upon this occasion are still -remaining amongst the few family records that Dr. Burney preserved. - -Whether attracted by her beauty, her sprightliness, or her portion; or -by the aggregate influence of those three mighty magnetizers of the -passions of man, is not known; but Wycherley, the famous poet, fine -gentleman, and Wit of the reign of Charles the Second, had been so -enamoured with Mrs. Ann Cooper in her earliest youth, which flourished -in his latest decadency, that he sought her for his bride. - -The romance, however, of his adoration, did not extend to breaking his -heart; for though he expired within a few months after her rejection, -it was not from wearing the willow: another fair one, yet younger, -proved less cruel, and changed it to a wreath of myrtle. But the fates -were adverse to his tender propensities, and he outlived his fair -fortune and his nuptials only a fortnight. - -A few years after this second marriage, Mr. Burney senior, finally, -and with tolerable success, fixed himself to the profession of -portrait-painting; and, quitting Shrewsbury, established himself in -the city of Chester; where, to his reputation in the delightful -arts of the pencil, he joined a far surpassing pre-eminence in -those of society. His convivial spirit, his ready repartee, and his -care-chasing pleasantry, made his intercourse sought by all to whom -such qualifications afford pleasure: and we are yet, I believe, -to learn where coin of such sterling value for exhilarating our -fellow-creatures, fails of passing current. - -The then Earl of Cholmondeley was particularly partial to him, and his -most essential friend. - -Charles, who was Mr. Burney’s last born son, had a twin sister, called -Susanna, whom he early lost, but for whom he cherished a peculiar -fondness that he seemed tenderly to transmit to the beloved and -meritorious daughter to whom he gave her name.[2] - - -CONDOVER. - -From what cause is not known, and it is difficult to conceive any that -can justify such extraordinary neglect, young Charles was left in -Shropshire, upon the removal of his parents to Chester; and abandoned, -not only during his infancy, but even during his boyhood, to the care -of an uncultivated and utterly ignorant, but worthy and affectionate -old nurse, called Dame Ball, in the rustic village of Condover, not far -from Shrewsbury. - -His reminiscences upon this period were amongst those the most -tenaciously minute, and the most agreeable to his fancy for detail, of -any part of his life; and the uncommon gaiety of his narratory powers, -and the frankness with which he set forth the pecuniary embarrassments -and provoking mischances, to which his thus deserted childhood was -exposed, had an ingenuousness, a good-humour, and a comicality, that -made the subject of Condover not more delectable to himself than -entertaining to his hearer. - -Nevertheless, these accounts, when committed to paper, and produced -without the versatility of countenance, and the vivacious gestures that -animated the colloquial disclosures, so lose their charm, as to appear -vapid, languid, and tedious: and the editor only thus slightly recurs -to them for the purpose of pointing out how gifted must be the man who, -through disadvantages of so lowering a species, could become, in -after-life, not only one of the best informed, but one of the most -polished, members of society. - -There were few subjects of his childish remembrance with which he was -himself more amused, than with the recital of the favourite couplets -which the good nurse Ball most frequently sang to him at her spinning -wheel; and which he especially loved to chaunt, in imitating her -longdrawn face, and the dolorous tones of her drawling sadness. - - “Good bye, my dear neighbours! My heart it is sore, - For I must go travelling all the world o’er. - And if I should chance to come home very rich, - My friends and relations will make of me mich; - But if I should chance to come home very poor, - My friends and relations will turn me out of door, - After I have been travelling, travelling, travelling, all the - world o’er.” - - -CHESTER. - -The education of the subject of these memoirs, when, at length, he was -removed from this his first instructress, whom he quitted, as he always -protested, with agony of grief, was begun at the Free School at Chester. - -It can excite no surprise, his brilliant career through life -considered, that his juvenile studies were assiduous, ardent, and -successful. He was frequently heard to declare that he had been once -only chastised at school, and that not for slackness, but forwardness -in scholastic lore. A favourite comrade, who shared his affections, -though not his application or his genius, was hesitating through an -ill-learnt lesson, and on the point of incurring punishment, when young -Burney, dropping his head on his breast to muffle his voice, whispered -the required answer. - -“Burney prompts, Sir!” was loudly called out by a jealous, or -malevolent fellow-student: and Burney paid the ignoble tax at which his -incautious good nature, and superior talents, were assessed. - -The resources of practical education ought, perhaps, to be judged -only by the experience which puts them into play; but incongruous, at -least to all thinking, though it may be incompetent, observers, must -seem the discipline that appoints to the instinctive zeal of youthful -friendship, the same degrading species of punishment that may be -necessary for counteracting the sluggard mischiefs of indolence, or the -dangerous examples of misconduct. - -The prominent talents of young Burney for music fixed that tuneful -art for his profession; and happily so; for while its pursuit was his -business, its cultivation was his never-ceasing delight. - -Yet not exclusively: far otherwise. He had a native love of literature, -in all its branches, that opened his intellects to observation, while -it furnished his mind with embellishments upon almost every subject; -a thirst of knowledge, that rendered science, as far as he had -opportunity for its investigation, an enlargement to his understanding; -and an imagination that invested all the arts with a power of -enchantment. - - -SHREWSBURY. - -His earliest musical instructor was his eldest half brother, Mr. James -Burney, who was then, and for more than half a century afterwards, -organist of St. Margaret’s, Shrewsbury; in which city the young -musician elect began his professional studies. - -It was, however, in age only that Mr. James Burney was his brother’s -senior or superior; from him, therefore, whatever could be given or -received, was finished almost ere it was begun, from the quickness -with which his pupil devoted himself to what he called the slavery of -conquering unmeaning difficulties in the lessons of the times. - -The following spirited paragraph on his juvenile progress is -transcribed from his early memorandums. - - “The celebrated Felton, and after him, the first Dr. Hayes, - came from Oxford to Shrewsbury on a tour, while I was - studying hard, without instruction or example; and they - amazed and stimulated me so forcibly by their performance - on the organ, as well as by their encouragement, that I - thenceforward went to work with an ambition and fury that - would hardly allow me to eat or sleep. - - “The quantity of music which I copied at this time, of - all kinds, was prodigious; and my activity and industry - surprised every body; for, besides writing, teaching, tuning, - and playing for my brother, at my _momens perdus_, I was - educating myself in every way I was able. With copy-books, - I improved my hand-writing so much, that my father did not - believe I wrote my letters to him myself. I tried hard to - at least keep up the little Latin I had learned; and I - diligently practised both the spinet and violin; which, - with reading, transcribing music for business, and poetry - for pleasure; attempts at composition, and attention to my - brother’s affairs, filled up every minute of the longest day. - - “I had, also, a great passion for angling; but whenever I - could get leisure to pursue that sport, I ran no risk of - losing my time, if the fish did not bite; for I had always - a book in my pocket, which enabled me to wait with patience - their pleasure.” - -Another paragraph, which is singular and amusing, is transcribed, also, -from the Shrewsbury Annals:— - - “CHARACTER OF LADY TANKERVILLE.[3] - - “This lady was the daughter of Sir John Ashley, of the Abbey - Foregate, Shrewsbury. She manifested a passion for music very - early, in practising on the German flute, which was then - little known in the country, Sir William Fowler and this lady - being the only performers on that instrument that obtained, - or deserved the least notice. Miss Ashley practised the - harpsichord likewise, and took lessons of my brother: and she - used to make little Matteis, the language master, and first - violinist of the place, accompany her. She was an _espiegle_, - and doted on mischief; and no sooner found that Matteis was - very timid and helpless at the slightest distress or danger, - than she insisted, during summer, upon taking her lessons in - the middle of an old and lofty oak tree; placing there a seat - and a desk, adroitly well arranged for her accommodation; - while another seat and desk, upon a thick but tottering - branch, was put up for poor Matteis, who was so terrified, - that he could not stop a note in tune; yet so fearful, that - he could not bring himself to resist her orders. - - “In 1738, she married Lord Ossulston, son of the Earl of - Tankerville: and I remember leading off a choral song, or - hymn, by her direction, to chaunt her out of St. Julian’s - Church. I was then quite a boy; and I heard no more of her - till I was grown up, and settled in London.” - - -CHESTER. - -On quitting Shrewsbury to return to his parents at Chester, the ardour -of young Burney for improvement was such as to absorb his whole being; -and his fear lest a moment of daylight should be profitless, led him to -bespeak a labouring boy, who rose with the sun, to awaken him regularly -with its dawn. Yet, as he durst not pursue his education at the expense -of the repose of his family, he hit upon the ingenious device of tying -one end of a ball of pack-thread round his great toe, and then letting -the ball drop, with the other end just within the boy’s reach, from an -aperture in the old-fashioned casement of his bed-chamber window. - -This was no contrivance to dally with his diligence; he could not -choose but rise. - -He was yet a mere youth, when, while thus unremittingly studious, he -was introduced to Dr. Arne, on the passage of that celebrated musician -through the city of Chester, when returning from Ireland: and this most -popular of English vocal composers since the days of Purcel, was so -much pleased with the talents of this nearly self-instructed performer, -as to make an offer to Mr. Burney senior, upon such conditions as are -usual to such sort of patronage, to complete the musical education of -this lively and aspiring young man; and to bring him forth to the world -as his favourite and most promising pupil. - -To this proposal Mr. Burney senior was induced to consent; and, in the -year 1714, at the age of seventeen, the eager young candidate for fame -rapturously set off, in company with Dr. Arne, for the metropolis. - - -LONDON. - -Arrived in London, young Burney found himself unrestrainedly his own -master, save in what regarded his articled agreement with Dr. Arne. -Every part of his numerous family was left behind him, or variously -dispersed, with the single exception of his elder and only own brother, -Richard Burney, afterwards of Worcester, but who, at this period, was -settled in the capital. - -This brother was a man of true worth and vigorous understanding, -enriched with a strong vein of native humour. He was an indefatigable -and sapient collector of historical portraits, and passionately fond -of the arts; and he was father of a race of children who severally, -and with distinction, shone in them all; and who superadded to their -ingenuity and their acquirements the most guileless hearts and -scrupulous integrity. - - -DR. ARNE. - -Dr. Arne, professionally, has been fully portrayed by the pupil who, -nominally, was under his guidance; but who, in after-times, became the -historian of his tuneful art. - -Eminent, however, in that art as was Dr. Arne, his eminence was to -that art alone confined. Thoughtless, dissipated, and careless, he -neglected, or rather scoffed at all other but musical reputation. -And he was so little scrupulous in his ideas of propriety, that he -took pride, rather than shame, in being publicly classed, even in the -decline of life, as a man of pleasure. - -Such a character was ill qualified to form or to protect the morals -of a youthful pupil; and it is probable that not a notion of such a -duty ever occurred to Dr. Arne; so happy was his self-complacency in -the fertility of his invention and the ease of his compositions, -and so dazzled by the brilliancy of his success in his powers of -melody—which, in truth, for the English stage, were in sweetness and -variety unrivalled—that, satisfied and flattered by the practical -exertions and the popularity of his fancy, he had no ambition, or, -rather, no thought concerning the theory of his art. - -The depths of science, indeed, were the last that the gay master had -any inclination to sound; and, in a very short time, through something -that mingled jealousy with inability, the disciple was wholly left -to work his own way as he could through the difficulties of his -professional progress. - -Had neglect, nevertheless, been the sole deficiency that young Burney -had had to lament, it would effectually have been counteracted -by his own industry: but all who are most wanting to others, are -most rapacious of services for themselves; and the time in which -the advancement of the scholar ought to have been blended with the -advantage of the teacher, was almost exclusively seized upon for the -imposition of laborious tasks of copying music: and thus, a drudgery -fitted for those who have no talents to cultivate; or those who, in -possessing them, are driven from their enjoyment by distress, filled -up nearly the whole time of the student, and constituted almost wholly -the directions of the tutor. - - -MRS. CIBBER. - -Young Burney, now, was necessarily introduced to Dr. Arne’s celebrated -sister, the most enchanting actress of her day, Mrs. Cibber; in whose -house, in Scotland-yard, he found himself in a constellation of wits, -poets, actors, authors, and men of letters. - -The social powers of pleasing, which to the very end of his long life -endeared him to every circle in which he mixed, were now first lighted -up by the sparks of convivial collision which emanate, in kindred -minds, from the electricity of conversation. And though, as yet, he -was but a gazer himself in the splendour of this galaxy, he had parts -of such quick perception, and so laughter-loving a taste for wit and -humour, that he not alone received delight from the sprightly sallies, -the ludicrous representations, or the sportive mimicries that here, -with all the frolic of high-wrought spirits, were bandied about from -guest to guest; he contributed personally to the general enjoyment, by -the gaiety of his participation; and appeared, to all but his modest -self, to make an integral part of the brilliant society into which he -was content, nay charmed, to seem admitted merely as an auditor. - - -GARRICK. - -Conspicuous in this bright assemblage, Garrick, then hardly beyond the -glowing dawn of his unparalleled dramatic celebrity, shone forth with a -blaze of lustre that struck young Burney with enthusiastic admiration. - -And nearly as prompt was the kind impression made in return, by the new -young associate, on the fancy and the liking of this inimitable outward -delineator of the inward human character; who, to the very close of -that splendid circle which he described in the drama and in literature, -retained for this early conquest a distinguishing, though not, perhaps, -a wholly unremitting partiality; for where is the spoilt child, -whether of the nursery or of the public, who is uniformly exempt from -fickleness or caprice,—those wayward offsprings of lavish indulgence? - -Not dense, however, nor frequent, were the occasional intermissions -to the serenity of their intercourse; and the sunshine by which they -were dispersed, beamed from an heightened esteem that, in both parties, -terminated in cordial affection. - - -THOMSON. - -With Thomson, too, whose fame, happily for posterity, hung not upon -the ephemeral charm of accent, variety of attitude, or witchery of the -eye, like that of even the most transcendent of the votaries of the -buskins; with Thomson, too, his favoured lot led him to the happiness -of early and intimate, though, unfortunately, not of long-enduring -acquaintance, the destined race of Thomson, which was cut short nearly -in the meridian of life, being already almost run. - -It was not in the house only of Mrs. Cibber that he met this impressive -and piety-inspiring painter of Nature, alike in her rural beauties and -her elemental sublimities: the young musician had the advantage of -setting to music a part of the mask of Alfred,[4] which brought him -into close contact with the author, and rivetted good will on one side -by high admiration on the other. - -With various persons, renowned or interesting, of the same set, who -were gaily basking, at this period, in the smiles of popular sunshine, -the subject of these memoirs daily mixed; but, unfortunately, not a -memorandum of their intercourse has he left, beyond their names. - -Mrs. Cibber herself he considered as a pattern of perfection in the -tragic art, from her magnetizing powers of harrowing and winning at -once every feeling of the mind, by the eloquent sensibility with which -she portrayed, or, rather, personified, Tenderness, Grief, Horror, or -Distraction. - - -KIT SMART. - -With a different set, and at a different part of the town, young Burney -formed an intimacy with Kit Smart, the poet; a man then in equal -possession of those finest ingredients for the higher call of his art, -fire and fancy, and, for its comic call, of sport and waggery. No -indication, however, of such possession was granted to his appearance; -not a grace was bestowed on his person or manners; and his physiognomy -was of that round and stubbed form that seemed appertaining to a common -dealer behind a common counter, rather than to a votary of the Muses. -But his intellects, unhappily, were more brilliant than sound; and his -poetic turn, though it never warped his sentiments or his heart, was -little calculated to fortify his judgment. - - -DOCTOR ARMSTRONG. - -And, at this same epoch, the subject of these memoirs began also an -intercourse with the celebrated Dr. Armstrong, as high, then, in the -theory of his art, medicine, as he was far from lucratively prosperous -in its practice. He had produced upon it a didactic poem, “The Art of -Preserving Health,” which young Burney considered to be as nervous -in diction as it was enlightening in precept. But Dr. Armstrong, -though he came from a part of the island whence travellers are by no -means proverbially smitten with the reproach of coming in vain; nor -often stigmatized with either meriting or being addicted to failure, -possessed not the personal skill usually accorded to his countrymen, of -adroitness in bringing himself forward. Yet he was as gaily amiable -as he was eminently learned; and though, from a keen moral sense of -right, he was a satirist, he was so free from malevolence, that the -smile with which he uttered a remark the most ironical, had a cast of -good-humoured pleasantry that nearly turned his sarcasm into simple -sport. - - -MISS MOLLY CARTER. - -Now, also, opened to him an acquaintance with Miss Molly Carter, a -lady who, ultimately, proved the oldest friend that he sustained -through life; a sacred title, of which the rights, on both sides, were -affectionately acknowledged. The following account of her is copied -from Dr. Burney’s early manuscripts. - - “Miss Molly Carter, in her youth a very pretty girl, was, in - the year 1745, of a large party of young ladies, consisting - of five or six Miss Gores, and Miss Anderson, at William - Thompson’s Esq., in the neighbourhood of Elsham, near Brig. - Bob Thompson, Mr. Thompson’s brother, Billy Le Grand, and - myself, composed the rest of the set, which was employed in - nothing but singing, dancing, romping, and visiting, the - whole time I was there; which time was never surpassed in - hilarity at any place where I have been received in my life.” - - -QUEEN MAB. - -Neither pleasure, however, nor literary pursuits, led young Burney to -neglect the cultivation of his musical talents. The mask of Alfred -was by no means his sole juvenile composition: he set to music the -principal airs in the English burletta called Robin Hood, which was -most flatteringly received at the theatre; and he composed the whole of -the music of the pantomime of Queen Mab. - -He observed at this time the strictest incognito concerning all these -productions, though no motive for it is found amongst his papers; nor -does there remain any recollective explanation. - -With regard to Queen Mab, it excited peculiar remark, from the -extraordinary success of that diverting pantomime; for when the -uncertainties of the representation were over, there was every stimulus -to avowal that could urge a young author to come forward; not with -adventurous boldness, nor yet with trembling timidity, but with the -frank delight of unequivocal success. - -Queen Mab had a run which, to that time, had never been equalled, save -by the opening of the Beggar’s Opera; and which has not since been -surpassed, save by the representation of the Duenna. - -Its music, pleasing and natural, was soon so popular, that it was -taught to all young ladies, set to all barrel organs, and played at -all familiar music parties. It aimed not at Italian refinement, nor -at German science; but its sprightly melody, and utter freedom from -vulgarity, made its way even with John Bull, who, while following the -hairbreadth agility of Harlequin, the skittish coquetries of Columbine, -and the merry dole of the disasters of the Clown and Pantaloon, found -himself insensibly caught, and unconsciously beguiled into ameliorated -musical taste. - -In the present day, when English singers sometimes rise to the Italian -opera, and when Italian singers are sometimes invited to the English, -the music of Queen Mab could be received but in common with the feats -of its pantomime; so rapidly has taste advanced, and so generally have -foreign improvements become nearly indigenous. - -To give its due to merit, and its rights to invention, we must always -go back to their origin, and judge them, not by any comparison with -what has followed them, but by what they met when they first started, -and by what they were preceded. - -Why, when success was thus ascertained, the name of the composer was -concealed, leaving him thus singularly as unknown as he was popular, -may the more be regretted, as his disposition, though chiefly domestic, -was not of that effeminately sensitive cast that shrinks from the -world’s notice with a dread of publicity. His mind, on the contrary, -belonged to his sex; and was eminently formed to expand with that -manly ambition, which opens the portals of hope to the attainment of -independence, through intellectual honours. - -The music, when printed, made its appearance in the world as the -offspring of _a society of the sons of Apollo_: and Oswald, a famous -bookseller, published it by that title, and knew nothing of its real -parentage.[5] - -Sundry airs, ballads, cantatas, and other light musical productions, -were put forth also, as from that imaginary society; but all sprang -from the same source, and all were equally unacknowledged. - -The sole conjecture to be formed upon a self-denial, to which no virtue -seems attached; and from which reason withdraws its sanction, as -tending to counteract the just balance between merit and recompense, -is, that possibly the articles then in force with Dr. Arne, might -disfranchise young Burney from the liberty of publication in his own -name. - - -EARL OF HOLDERNESSE. - -The first musical work by the subject of these memoirs that he openly -avowed, was a set of six sonatas for two violins and a bass, printed -in 1747, and dedicated to the Earl of Holdernesse; to whose notice the -author had been presented by some of the titled friends and protectors -to whom he had become accidentally known. - -The Earl not only accepted with pleasure the music and the dedication, -but conceived a regard for the young composer, that soon passed from -his talents to his person and character. Many notes of Lord Holdernesse -still remain of kind engagements for meetings, even after his time was -under the royal, though honourable restraint, of being governor of the -heir apparent.[6] That high, and nearly exclusive occupation, lessened -not the favour which his lordship had had the taste and discernment to -display so early for a young man whom, afterwards, with pleasure, if -not with pride, he must have seen rise to equal and general favour in -the world. - -At Holdernesse House,[7] the fine mansion of this earl, young Burney -began an acquaintance, which in after years ripened into intimacy, with -Mr. Mason, the poet, who was his lordship’s chaplain. - - -FULK GREVILLE. - -While connexions thus various, literary, classical, noble, and -professional, incidentally occurred, combatting the deadening toil of -the copyist, and keeping his mind in tune for intellectual pursuits and -attainments, new scenes, most unexpectedly, opened to him the world at -large, and suddenly brought him to a familiar acquaintance with high -life. - -Fulk Greville, a descendant of _The Friend of Sir Philip Sydney_, -and afterwards author of Characters, Maxims, and Reflections, was -then generally looked up to as the finest gentleman about town. His -person, tall and well-proportioned, was commanding; his face, features, -and complexion, were striking for masculine beauty; and his air and -carriage were noble with conscious dignity. - -He was then in the towering pride of healthy manhood and athletic -strength. He excelled in all the fashionable exercises, riding, -fencing, hunting, shooting at a mark, dancing, tennis, &c.; and worked -at every one of them with a fury for pre-eminence, not equalled, -perhaps, in ardour for superiority in personal accomplishments, since -the days of the chivalrous Lord Herbert of Cherbury. - -His high birth, and higher expectation—for a coronet at that time, -from some uncertain right of heritage, hung almost suspended over his -head—with a splendid fortune, wholly unfettered, already in his hands, -gave to him a consequence in the circles of modish dissipation that, at -the clubs of St. James’s-street, and on the race ground at Newmarket, -nearly crowned him as chief. For though there were many competitors of -more titled importance, and more powerful wealth, neither the blaze -of their heraldry, nor the weight of their gold, could preponderate, -in the buckish scales of the day, over the elegance of equipment, the -grandeur, yet attraction of demeanour, the supercilious brow, and the -resplendent smile, that marked the lofty yet graceful descendant of Sir -Philip Sydney. - -This gentleman one morning, while trying a new instrument at the -house of Kirkman, the first harpsichord maker of the times, expressed -a wish to receive musical instruction from some one who had mind -and cultivation, as well as finger and ear; lamenting, with strong -contempt, that, in the musical tribe, the two latter were generally -dislocated from the two former; and gravely asking Kirkman whether he -knew any young musician who was fit company for a gentleman. - -Kirkman, with honest zeal to stand up for the credit of the art by -which he prospered, and which he held to be insulted by this question, -warmly answered that he knew many; but, very particularly, one member -of the harmonic corps, who had as much music in his tongue as in his -hands, and who was as fit company for a prince as for an orchestra. - -Mr. Greville, with much surprise, made sundry and formal inquiries -into the existence, situation, and character of what he called so great -a phenomenon; protesting there was nothing he so much desired as the -extraordinary circumstance of finding any union of sense with sound. - -The replies of the good German were so exciting, as well as -satisfactory, that Mr. Greville became eager to see the youth thus -extolled; but charged Mr. Kirkman not to betray a word of what had -passed, that the interview might be free from restraint, and seem to be -arranged merely for shewing off the several instruments that were ready -for sale, to a gentleman who was disposed to purchase one of the most -costly. - -To this injunction Mr. Kirkman agreed, and conscientiously adhered. - -A day was appointed, and the meeting took place. - -Young Burney, with no other idea than that of serving Kirkman, -immediately seated himself at an instrument, and played various pieces -of Geminiani, Corelli, and Tartini, whose compositions were then most -in fashion. But Mr. Greville, secretly suspicious of some connivance, -coldly and proudly walked about the room; took snuff from a finely -enamelled snuff-box, and looked at some prints, as if wholly without -noticing the performance. - -He had, however, too much penetration not to perceive his mistake, when -he remarked the incautious carelessness with which his inattention was -returned; for soon, conceiving himself to be playing to very obtuse -ears, young Burney left off all attempt at soliciting their favour; -and only sought his own amusement by trying favourite passages, or -practising difficult ones, with a vivacity which shewed that his -passion for his art rewarded him in itself for his exertions. But -coming, at length, to keys of which the touch, light and springing, -invited his stay, he fired away in a sonata of Scarlatti’s, with an -alternate excellence of execution and expression, so perfectly in -accord with the fanciful flights of that wild but masterly composer, -that Mr. Greville, satisfied no scheme was at work to surprise or to -win him; but, on the contrary, that the energy of genius was let loose -upon itself, and enjoying, without premeditation, its own lively sports -and vagaries; softly drew a chair to the harpsichord, and listened, -with unaffected earnestness, to every note. - -Nor were his ears alone curiously awakened; his eyes were equally -occupied to mark the peculiar performance of intricate difficulties; -for the young musician had invented a mode of adding neatness to -brilliancy, by curving the fingers, and rounding the hand, in a manner -that gave them a grace upon the keys quite new at that time, and -entirely of his own devising. - -To be easily pleased, however, or to make acknowledgment of being -pleased at all, seems derogatory to strong self-importance; Mr. -Greville, therefore, merely said, “You are fond, Sir, it seems, of -Italian music?” - -The reply to this was striking up, with all the varying undulations -of the crescendo, the diminuendo, the pealing swell, and the “dying, -dying fall,” belonging to the powers of the pedal, that most popular -masterpiece of Handel’s, the Coronation Anthem. - -This quickness of comprehension, in turning from Italian to German, -joined to the grandeur of the composition, and the talents of the -performer, now irresistibly vanquished Mr. Greville; who, convinced -of Kirkman’s truth with regard to the harmonic powers of this son of -Apollo, desired next to sift it with regard to the wit. - -Casting off, therefore, his high reserve, with his jealous surmises, -he ceased to listen to the music, and started some theme that was meant -to lead to conversation. - -But as this essay, from not knowing to what the youth might be equal, -consisted of such inquiries as, “Have you been in town long, Sir?” or, -“Does your taste call you back to the country, Sir?” &c. &c., his young -hearer, by no means preferring this inquisitorial style to the fancy of -Scarlatti, or the skill and depth of Handel, slightly answered, “Yes, -Sir,” or “No, Sir;” and, perceiving an instrument not yet tried, darted -to it precipitately, and seated himself to play a voluntary. - -The charm of genuine simplicity is nowhere more powerful than with the -practised and hackneyed man of the world; for it induces what, of all -things, he most rarely experiences, a belief in sincerity. - -Mr. Greville, therefore, though thwarted, was not displeased; for in a -votary of the art he was pursuing, he saw a character full of talents, -yet without guile; and conceived, from that moment, an idea that it was -one he might personally attach. He remitted, therefore, to some other -opportunity, a further internal investigation. - -Mr. Kirkman now came forward to announce, that in the following week -he should have a new harpsichord, with double keys, and a deepened -bass, ready for examination. - -They then parted, without any explanation on the side of Mr. Greville; -or any idea on that of the subject of these memoirs, that he and his -acquirements were objects of so peculiar a speculation. - -At the second interview, young Burney innocently and eagerly flew at -once to the harpsichord, and tried it with various recollections from -his favourite composers. - -Mr. Greville listened complacently and approvingly; but, at the end -of every strain, made a speech that he intended should lead to some -discussion. - -Young Burney, however, more alive to the graces of melody than to -the subtleties of argument, gave answers that always finished with -full-toned chords, which as constantly modulated into another movement; -till Mr. Greville, tired and impatient, suddenly proposed changing -places, and trying the instrument himself. - -He could not have devised a more infallible expedient to provoke -conversation; for he thrummed his own chosen bits by memory with so -little skill or taste, yet with a pertinacity so wearisome, that young -Burney, who could neither hearken to such playing, nor turn aside from -such a player, caught with alacrity at every opening to discourse, as -an acquittal from the fatigue of mock attention. - -This eagerness gave a piquancy to what he said, that stole from him the -diffidence that might otherwise have hung upon his inexperience; and -endued him with a courage for uttering his opinions, that might else -have faded away under the trammels of distant respect. - -Mr. Greville, however, was really superior to the mawkish parade -of unnecessary etiquette in private circles, where no dignity can -be offended, and no grandeur be let down by suffering nature, wit, -or accident to take their bent, and run their race, unfettered by -punctilio. - -Yet was he the last of men to have borne any designed infringement upon -the long established claims of birth, rank, or situation; which, in -fact, is rarely practised but to lead to a succession of changes, that -circulate, like the names written in a round robin, to end just where -they began;— - - “Such chaos, where degree is suffocate, - Follows the choaking.”[8] - -In the subject of these memoirs, this effervescence of freedom was -clearly that of juvenile artlessness and overflowing vivacity; and -Mr. Greville desired too sincerely to gather the youth’s notions and -fathom his understanding, for permitting himself to check such amusing -spirits, by proudly wrapping himself up, as at less favourable moments -he was wont to do, in his own consequence. He grew, therefore, so -lively and entertaining, that young Burney became as much charmed with -his company as he had been wearied by his music; and an interchange -of ideas took place, as frankly rapid, equal, and undaunted, as if -the descendant of _the friend of Sir Philip Sydney_ had encountered a -descendant of Sir Philip Sydney himself. - -This meeting concluded the investigation; music, singing her gay -triumph, took her stand at the helm; and a similar victory for capacity -and information awaited but a few intellectual skirmishes, on poetry, -politics, morals, and literature,—in the midst of which Mr. Greville, -suddenly and gracefully holding out his hand, fairly acknowledged his -scheme, proclaimed its success, and invited the unconscious victor to -accompany him to Wilbury House. - -The amazement of young Burney was boundless; but his modesty, or -rather his ignorance that not to think highly of his own abilities -merited that epithet, was most agreeably surprised by so complicate a -flattery to his character, his endowments, and his genius. - -But his articles with Dr. Arne were in full force; and it was not -without a sigh that he made known his confined position. - -Unaccustomed to control his inclinations himself, or to submit to -their control from circumstances, expense, or difficulty, Mr. Greville -mocked this puny obstacle; and, instantly visiting Dr. Arne in person, -demanded his own terms for liberating his Cheshire pupil. - -Dr. Arne, at first, would listen to no proposition; protesting that a -youth of such promise was beyond all equivalent. But no sooner was a -round sum mentioned, than the Doctor, who, in common with all the dupes -of extravagance, was evermore needy, could not disguise from himself -that he was dolorously out of cash; and the dazzling glare of three -hundred pounds could not but play most temptingly in his sight, for one -of those immediate, though imaginary wants, that the man of pleasure is -always sure to see waving, with decoying allurement, before his longing -eyes. - -The articles, therefore, were cancelled: and young Burney was received -in the house of Mr. Greville as a desired inmate, a talented professor, -and a youth of genius: to which appellations, from his pleasantry, -gaiety, reading, and readiness, was soon superadded the title—not of a -humble, but of a chosen and confidential companion. - - * * * * * - -Young Burney now moved in a completely new sphere, and led a completely -new life. All his leisure nevertheless was still devoted to improvement -in his own art, by practice and by composition. But the hours for such -sage pursuits were soon curtailed from half the day to its quarter; -and again from that to merely the early morning that preceded any -communication with his gay host: for so partial grew Mr. Greville to -his new favourite, that, speedily, there was no remission of claim upon -his time or his talents, whether for music or discourse. - -Nor even here ended the requisition for his presence; his company -had a charm that gave a zest to whatever went forward: his opinions -were so ingenious, his truth was so inviolate, his spirits were so -entertaining, that, shortly, to make him a part of whatever was said -or done, seemed necessary to Mr. Greville for either speech or action. - - -GAMING CLUBS. - -The consequence of this taste for his society carried young Burney into -every scene of high dissipation which, at that period, made the round -of the existence of a buckish fine gentleman; and he was continually of -the party at White’s, at Brookes’s, and at every other superfine club -house, whether public or private, to which the dangerous allurement -of gaming, or the scarcely less so of being _à la mode_, tempted his -fashionable patron. - -As Mr. Greville uniformly, whether at cards, dice, or betting, played -with Honour, his success, of course, was precarious; but as he never -was so splendidly prosperous as to suffer himself to be beguiled out -of all caution; nor yet so frequently unfortunate as to be rendered -desperate, he was rarely distressed, though now and then he might be -embarrassed. - -At these clubs, the subject of these memoirs witnessed scenes that were -ever after rivetted on his memory. Cards, betting, dice, opened every -nocturnal orgie with an _éclat_ of expectation, hope, ardour, and -fire, that seemed to cause a mental inflammation of the feelings and -faculties of the whole assembly in a mass. - -On the first night of the entrance of young Burney into this set, Mr. -Greville amused himself with keeping out of the way, that he might -make over the new comer to what was called the humour of the thing; so -that, by being unknown, he might be assailed, as a matter of course, -for bets, holding stakes, choosing cards, &c. &c., and become initiated -in the arcana of a modish gaming house; while watchful, though apart, -Mr. Greville enjoyed, with high secret glee, the novelty of the youth’s -confusion. - -But young Burney had the native good sense to have observed already, -that a hoax soon loses its power of ridicule where it excites no alarm -in its object. He gaily, therefore, treated as a farce every attempt -to bring him forward, and covered up his real ignorance upon such -subjects by wilful blunders that apparently doubled it; till, by making -himself a pretended caricature of newness and inaptness, he got, what -in coteries of that sort is always successful, the laugh on his side. - -As the evening advanced, the busy hum of common-place chattery -subsided; and a general and collected calmness ensued, such as might -best dispose the gambling associates to a wily deliberation, how most -coolly to penetrate into the mystic obscurities that brought them -together. - -All, however, was not yet involved in the gaping cauldron of chance, -whence so soon was to emerge the brilliant prize, or desolating blank, -that was to blazon the lustre, or stamp the destruction, of whoever, -with his last trembling mite, came to sound its perilous depths. They -as yet played, or prowled around it, lightly and slightly; not more -impatient than fearful of hurrying their fate; and seeking to hide -from themselves, as well as from their competitors, their anticipating -exultation or dread. - -Still, therefore, they had some command of the general use of their -faculties, and of what was due from them to general social commerce. -Still some vivacious sallies called forth passing smiles from those -who had been seldomest betrayed, or whose fortunes had least been -embezzled; and still such cheeks as were not too dragged or haggard to -exhibit them, were able to give graceful symptoms of self-possession, -by the pleasing and becoming dimples produced through arch, though -silent observance. - -But by degrees the fever of doubt and anxiety broke forth all around, -and every breath caught its infection. Every look then showed the -contagion of lurking suspicion: every eye that fixed a prosperous -object, seemed to fix it with the stamp of detection. All was contrast -the most discordant, unblended by any gradation; for wherever the -laughing brilliancy of any countenance denoted exulting victory, the -glaring vacancy of some other hard by, displayed incipient despair. - -Like the awe of death was next the muteness of taciturnity, from the -absorption of agonizing attention while the last decisive strokes, -upon which hung affluence or beggary, were impending. Every die, then, -became a bliss or a blast; every extorted word was an execration; every -fear whispered ruin with dishonour; every wish was a dagger to some -antagonist!—till, finally, the result was proclaimed, which carried -off the winner in a whirl of maddening triumph; and to the loser left -the recovery of his nervous, hoarse, husky, grating voice, only for -curses and oaths, louder and more appalling than thunder in its deepest -roll. - - -NEWMARKET. - -The next vortex of high dissipation into which, as its season arrived, -young Burney was ushered, was that of Newmarket: and there, as far as -belonged to the spirit of the race, and the beauty, the form, and the -motions of the noble quadrupeds, whose rival swiftness made running -seem a flight, and that flight appear an airy game, or gambol, of some -fabled animal of elastic grace and celerity, he was enchanted with his -sojourn. And the accompanying scenes of gambling, betting, &c., though -of the same character and description as those of St. James’s-street, -he thought less darkly terrible, because the winners or losers seemed -to him more generally assorted according to their equality in rank -or fortune: though no one, in the long run, however high, or however -low, escaped becoming the dupe, or the prey, of whoever was most -adroit,—whether plebeian or patrician. - - -BATH. - -The ensuing initiation into this mingled existence of inertness and -effort, of luxury and of desolation, was made at Bath. But Bath, from -its buildings and its position, had a charm around it for the subject -of these memoirs, to soften off the monotony of this wayward taste, and -these wilful sufferings; though the seat of dissipation alone he found -to be changed; its basis—cards, dice, or betting—being always the -same. - -Nevertheless, that beautiful city, then little more than a splendid -village in comparison with its actual metropolitan size and grandeur, -had intrinsic claims to the most vivid admiration, and the strongest -incitements to youthful curiosity, from the antiquity of its origin, -real as well as fabulous; from its Bladud, its baths, its cathedral; -and its countless surrounding glories of military remains; all -magically followed up, to vary impression, and stimulate approbation, -by its rising excellence in Grecian and Roman architecture. - -Born with an enthusiastic passion for rural scenery, the picturesque -view of this city offered to the ravished eye of young Burney some new -loveliness, or striking effect, with an endless enchantment of variety, -at almost every fresh opening of every fresh street into which he -sauntered. - -And here, not only did he find this perpetual, yet changeful, prospect -of Nature in her most smiling attire, and of Art in her most chaste -and elegant constructions; Bath had yet further attraction to its new -visitor; another captivation stronger still to a character soaring -to intellectual heights, caught him in its chains,—it was that of -literary eminence; Bath, at this moment, being illumined by that -sparkling but dangerous Meteor of philosophy, politics, history, and -metaphysics, St. John, Lord Bolingbroke. - -Happily, perhaps, for his safety, it was in vain that young Burney -struggled, by every effort of ingenuity he could exert, to bask in the -radiance of this Meteor’s wit and eloquence. Every attempt at that -purpose failed; and merely a glimpse of this extraordinary personage, -was all that the utmost vigilance of romantic research ever caught. - -Young Burney could not, at that period, have studied the works of Lord -Bolingbroke, who was then chiefly known by his political honours and -disgraces; his exile and his pardon; and by that most perfect panegyric -that ever, perhaps, poet penned, of Pope: - - “Come then, my friend! my Genius!—— - Oh, master of the poet and the song!” - -Fortunately, therefore, the ingenuous youth and inexperience of the -subject of these memoirs, escaped the brilliant poison of metaphysical -sophistry, that might else have disturbed his peace, and darkened his -happiness. - -The set to which Mr. Greville belonged, was as little studious to seek, -as likely to gain, either for its advantage or its evil, admission to a -character so eminently scholastic, or so personally fastidious, as that -of Lord Bolingbroke; though, had he been unhampered by such colleagues, -Lord Bolingbroke, as a metaphysician, would have been sought with -eager, nay, fond alacrity, by Mr. Greville; metaphysics being, in -his own conception and opinion, the proper bent of his mind and -understanding. But those with whom he now was connected, encompassed -him with snares that left little opening to any higher pursuits than -their own. - -The aim, therefore, of young Burney, was soon limited to obtaining a -glance of the still noble, though infirm figure, and still handsome, -though aged countenance of this celebrated statesman. And of these, for -the most transitory view, he would frequently, with a book in his hand, -loiter by the hour opposite to his lordship’s windows, which were _vis -à vis_ to those of Mr. Greville; or run, in circular eddies, from side -to side of the sedan chair in which his lordship was carried to the -pump-room. - -Mr. Greville, though always entertained by the juvenile eagerness of -his young favourite, pursued his own modish course with the alternate -ardour and apathy, which were then beginning to be what now is -called the order of the day; steering—for he thought that was _the -thing_—with whatever was most in vogue, even when it was least to his -taste; and making whatever was most expensive the criterion for his -choice, even in diversions; because that was what most effectually -would exclude plebeian participation. - -And to this lofty motive, rather than to any appropriate fondness for -its charms, might be attributed, in its origin, his fervour for gaming; -though gaming, with that poignant stimulus, self-conceit, which, where -calculation tries to battle with chance, goads on, with resistless -force, our designs by our presumption, soon left wholly in the back -ground every attempt at rivalry by any other species of recreation. - -Hunting therefore, shooting, riding, music, drawing, dancing, fencing, -tennis, horse-racing, the joys of Bacchus, and numerous other exertions -of skill, of strength, of prowess, and of ingenuity, served but, ere -long, to fill up the annoying chasms by which these nocturnal orgies -were interrupted through the obtrusion of day. - - -FULK GREVILLE. - -Such was the new world into which the subject of these memoirs was -thus abruptly let loose; but, happily, his good taste was as much -revolted as his morality, against its practices. And his astonishment -at the dreadful night-work that has been described; so absorbent, -concentrating, and fearful, hung round with such dire prognostics, -pursued with so much fury, or brooded over with such despondence; never -so thoughtlessly wore away as to deaden his horror of its perils. - -Mr. Greville himself, though frequenting these scenes as an expert and -favourite member of the coteries in which they were enacted, had too -real a sense of right, and too sincere a feeling of humanity, to intend -involving an inexperienced youth in a passion for the amusements of -hazard; or to excite in him a propensity for the dissolute company of -which its followers are composed; who, satiated with every species of -pleasure that is innoxious, are alive alone to such as can rescue them -from ruin, even though at the fatal price of betraying into its gulph -the associates with whom they chiefly herd. - -Nevertheless, he gave no warning to young Burney of danger. Aware that -there was no fortune to lose, he concluded there was no mischief to -apprehend; and, satisfied that the sentiments of the youth were good, -to meddle with his principles seemed probably a work of supererogation. -Without reflection, therefore, rather than with any project, he was -glad of a sprightly participator, with whom he could laugh the next -morning, at whatever had been ludicrous over-night; though to utter -either caution or counsel, he would have thought moralizing, and, -consequently, _fogrum_; a term which he adopted for whatever speech, -action, or mode of conduct, he disdainfully believed to be beneath the -high _ton_ to which he considered himself to be born and bred. - -From such _fogrum_ sort of work, therefore, he contemptuously recoiled, -deeming it fitted exclusively for schoolmasters, or for priests. - - -WILBURY HOUSE. - -Not solely, however, to public places were the pleasures, or the -magnificence, of Mr. Greville confined. He visited, with great fondness -and great state, his family seat in Wiltshire; and had the highest -gratification in receiving company there with splendour, and in -awakening their surprise, and surpassing their expectations, by the -spirit and the changes of their entertainment. - -He travelled in a style that was even princely; not only from his -equipages, out-riders, horses, and liveries, but from constantly -having two of his attendants skilled in playing the French horn. And -these were always stationed to recreate him with marches and warlike -movements, on the outside of the windows, where he took any repast. - -Wilbury House, the seat of Mr. Greville, situated near Andover, in -Wiltshire, was a really pretty place; but it had a recommendation to -those who possess wealth and taste with superfluous time, far greater -than any actual beauty, by requiring expensive alterations, and being -susceptible of lavish improvements. - -This enhanced all its merits to Mr. Greville, who, when out of other -employment for his thoughts, devoted them to avenues, plantations, -rising hills, sinking dales, and unexpected vistas; to each of which he -called upon whatever guests were at his house, during their creation, -for as much astonishment as applause. - -The call, however, was frequently unanswered; it was so palpable that -he was urged to this pursuit by lassitude rather than pleasure; by -flourishing ostentation rather than by genuine picturesque taste; so -obvious that to draw forth admiration to the beauties of his grounds, -was far less his object than to stir up wonder at the recesses of his -purse; that the wearied and wary visitor, who had once been entrapped -to follow his footsteps, in echoing his exclamations of delight at his -growing embellishments, was, ever after, sedulous, when he was with his -workmen and his works, to elude them: though all alike were happy to -again rejoin him at his sports and at his table; for there he was gay, -hospitable, and pleasing, brilliant in raillery, and full of enjoyment. - - -SAMUEL CRISP, ESQ. - -The first entrance of young Burney into Wilbury House was engraven, -ever after it took place, in golden characters of sacred friendship -upon his mind, for there he first met with Mr. Crisp. And as his -acquaintance with Mr. Greville had opened new roads and pursuits in -life to his prospects, that of Mr. Crisp opened new sources and new -energies to his faculties, for almost every species of improvement. - -Mr. Crisp, by birth and education a gentleman, according to the -ordinary acceptation of that word, was in mind, manners, and habits -yet more truly so, according to the most refined definition of the -appellation, as including honour, spirit, elegance, language, and grace. - -His person and port were distinguished; his address was even courtly; -his face had the embellishment of a strikingly fine outline; bright, -hazel, penetrating, yet arch eyes; an open front; a noble Roman nose; -and a smile of a thousand varied expressions. - -But all that was external, however attractive, however full of promise, -however impossible to pass over, was of utterly inferior worth -compared with the inward man; for there he was rare indeed. Profound -in wisdom; sportive in wit; sound in understanding. A scholar of the -highest order; a critic of the clearest acumen; possessing, with equal -delicacy of discrimination, a taste for literature and for the arts; -and personally excelling, as a _dilettante_, both in music and painting. - -It was difficult to discuss any classical or political work, that his -conversation did not impregnate with more information and more wit -than, commonly speaking, their acutest authors had brought forward. -And such was his knowledge of mankind, that it was something beyond -difficult, it was scarcely even possible, to investigate any subject -requiring worldly sagacity, in which he did not dive into the abysses -of the minds and the propensities of the principals, through whom the -business was to be transacted, with a perspicuity so masterly, that -while weighing all that was presented to him, it developed all that was -held back; and fathomed at once the intentions and the resources of his -opponents. - -And with abilities thus grand and uncommon for great and important -purposes, if to such he had been called, he was endowed with discursive -powers for the social circle, the most varied in matter, the most solid -in reasoning, and the most delighting in gaiety—or nearly so—that -ever fell to favoured mortal’s lot. - -The subject of these memoirs was but seventeen years of age, when -first he had the incalculable advantage of being attracted to explore -this Mine of wisdom, experience, and accomplishments. His musical -talents, and a sympathy of taste in the choice of composers, quickly -caught the responsive ears of Mr. Crisp; which vibrated to every -passage, every sound, that the young musician embellished by graces -intuitively his own, either of expression or execution. And whenever -Mr. Crisp could contrive to retreat, and induce his new Orpheus to -retreat, from the sports of the field, it was even with ardour that he -escaped from the clang of horses and hounds, to devote whole mornings -to the charms, - - Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, - -of harmony. And harmony indeed, in its most enlarged combinations, -united here the player and the auditor; for they soon discovered that -not in music alone, but in general sentiments, their hearts were tuned -to the same key, and expanded to the same “concord of sweet sounds.” - -The love of music, in Mr. Crisp, amounted to passion; yet that passion -could not have differed more from modern enthusiasm in that art, if it -had been hatred; since, far from demanding, according to the present -mode, every two or three seasons, new compositions and new composers, -his musical taste and consistency deviated not from his taste and -consistency in literature: and where a composer had hit his fancy, -and a composition had filled him with delight, he would call for his -favourite pieces of Bach of Berlin, Handel, Scarlatti, or Echard, with -the same reiteration of eagerness that he would again and again read, -hear, or recite chosen passages from the works of his favourite bards, -Shakespeare, Milton, or Pope. - -Mr. Greville was sometimes diverted, and sometimes nettled, by this -double defection; for in whatever went forward, he loved to be lord -of the ascendant: but Mr. Crisp, whose temper was as unruffled as his -understanding was firm, only smiled at his friend’s diversion; and -from his pique looked away. Mr. Greville then sought to combat this -musical mania by ridicule, and called upon his companions of the chase -to halloo the recreant huntsman to the field; affirming that he courted -the pipe and the song, only to avoid clearing a ditch, and elude -leaping a five-barred gate. - -This was sufficient to raise the cry against the delinquent; for Man -without business or employment is always disposed to be a censor of -his neighbour; and whenever he thinks his antagonist on the road to -defeat, is always alert to start up for a wit. Mr. Crisp, therefore, -now, was assailed as a renegado from the chase; as a lounger; a -loiterer; scared by the horses; panic-struck by the dogs; and more -fearful of the deer, than the deer could be of the hunter. - -In the well-poized hope, that the less the sportsmen were answered, -the sooner they would be fatigued and depart, Mr. Crisp now and then -gave them a nod, but never once a word; even though this forbearance -instigated a triumph, loud, merry, and exulting; and sent them off, and -brought them back, in the jovial persuasion that, in their own phrase, -they had dumb-founded him. - -With this self-satisfied enjoyment, Mr. Crisp unresistingly indulged -them; though with a single pointed sentence, he could rapidly have -descended them from their fancied elevation. But, above all petty -pride of superiority in trifles, he never held things of small import -to be worth the trouble of an argument. Still less, however, did he -choose to be put out of his own way; which he always pursued with -placid equanimity whenever it was opposed without irrefragable reason. -Good-humouredly, however, he granted to his adversaries, in whose -laughs and railing he sometimes heartily joined, the full play of their -epigrams; internally conscious that, if seriously provoked, he could -retort them by lampoons. Sometimes, nevertheless, when he was hard -beset by gibes and jeers at his loss of sport; or by a chorus of mock -pitiers shouting out, “Poor Crisp! poor fellow! how consumedly thou art -moped!” he would quietly say, with a smile of inexpressible archness, -“Go to, my friends, go to! go you your way, and let me go mine! And -pray, don’t be troubled for me; depend upon it there is nobody will -take more care of Samuel Crisp than I will!” - - * * * * * - -In this manner, and in these sets, rapidly, gaily, uncounted, and -untutored, glided on imperceptibly the first youth of the subject -of these memoirs: surrounded by temptations to luxury, expense, and -dangerous pleasures, that, in weaker intellects, might have sapped for -ever the foundations of religion and virtue. But a love of right was -the predominant feature of the mind of young Burney. Mr. Greville, -also, himself, with whatever mockery he would have sneered away -any expression tending either to practice or meditation in piety, -instinctively held in esteem whatever was virtuous; and what was -vicious in scorn: though his esteem for virtue was never pronounced, -lest it should pass for pedantry; and his scorn for vice was studiously -disguised, lest he should be set down himself for a Fogrum. - - -MISS FANNY MACARTNEY. - -New scenes, and of deeper interest, presented themselves ere long. -A lovely female, in the bloom of youth, equally high in a double -celebrity, the most rarely accorded to her sex, of beauty and of wit, -and exquisite in her possession of both, made an assault upon the -eyes, the understanding, and the heart of Mr. Greville; so potent in -its first attack, and so varied in its after stages, that, little as -he felt at that time disposed to barter his boundless liberty, his -desultory pursuits, and his brilliant, though indefinite expectations, -for a bondage so narrow, so derogatory to the swing of his wild -will, as that of marriage appeared to him; he was caught by so many -charms, entangled in so many inducements, and inflamed by such a whirl -of passions, that he soon almost involuntarily surrendered to the -besieger; not absolutely at discretion, but very unequivocally from -resistless impulse. - -This lady was Miss Fanny Macartney, the third daughter of Mr. -Macartney, a gentleman of large fortune, and of an ancient Irish family. - -In Horace Walpole’s Beauties, Miss Fanny Macartney was the Flora. - -In Greville’s Maxims, Characters, and Reflections, she was also Flora, -contrasted with Camilla, who was meant for Mrs. Garrick. - -Miss Fanny Macartney was of a character which, at least in its latter -stages, seems to demand two pencils to delineate; so diversely was it -understood, or appreciated. - -To many she passed for being pedantic, sarcastic, and supercilious: -as such, she affrighted the timid, who shrunk into silence; and -braved the bold, to whom she allowed no quarter. The latter, in -truth, seemed to stimulate exertions which brought her faculties into -play; and which—besides creating admiration in all who escaped her -shafts—appeared to offer to herself a mental exercise, useful to her -health, and agreeable to her spirits. - -Her understanding was truly masculine; not from being harsh or rough, -but from depth, soundness, and capacity; yet her fine small features, -and the whole style of her beauty, looked as if meant by Nature for the -most feminine delicacy: but her voice, which had something in it of a -croak; and her manner, latterly at least, of sitting, which was that -of lounging completely at her ease, in such curves as she found most -commodious, with her head alone upright; and her eyes commonly fixed, -with an expression rather alarming than flattering, in examination -of some object that caught her attention; probably caused, as they -naturally excited, the hard general notion to her disadvantage above -mentioned. - -This notion, nevertheless, though almost universally harboured in the -circle of her public acquaintance, was nearly reversed in the smaller -circles that came more in contact with her feelings. By this last -must be understood, solely, the few who were happy enough to possess -her favour; and to them she was a treasure of ideas and of variety. -The keenness of her satire yielded its asperity to the zest of her -good-humour, and the kindness of her heart. Her noble indifference -to superior rank, if placed in opposition to superior merit; and her -delight in comparing notes with those with whom she desired to balance -opinions, established her, in her own elected set, as one of the first -of women. And though the fame of her beauty must pass away in the same -oblivious rotation which has withered that of her rival contemporaries, -the fame of her intellect must ever live, while sensibility may be -linked with poetry, and the Ode to Indifference shall remain to shew -their union. - -The various incidents that incited and led to the connexion that -resulted from this impassioned opening, appertain to the history of Mr. -Greville; but, in its solemn ratification, young Burney took a part so -essential, as to produce a striking and pleasing consequence to much of -his after-life. - -The wedding, though no one but the bride and bridegroom themselves -knew why, was a stolen one; and kept profoundly secret; which, -notwithstanding the bride was under age, was by no means, at that -time, difficult, the marriage act having not yet passed. Young Burney, -though the most juvenile of the party, was fixed upon to give the lady -away;[9] which evinced a trust and a partiality in the bridegroom, that -were immediately adopted by his fair partner; and by her unremittingly -sustained, with the frankest confidence, and the sincerest esteem, -through the whole of a long and varied life. With sense and taste such -as hers, it was not, indeed, likely she should be slack to discern and -develop a merit so formed to meet their perceptions. - -When the new married pair went through the customary routine of -matrimonial elopers, namely, that of returning home to demand pardon -and a blessing, Mr. Macartney coolly said: “Mr. Greville has chosen to -take a wife out of the window, whom he might just as well have taken -out of the door.” - -The immediate concurrence of the lovely new mistress of Wilbury House, -in desiring the society, even more than enjoying the talents, of her -lord and master’s favourite, occasioned his residence there to be -nearly as unbroken as their own. And the whole extensive neighbourhood -so completely joined in this kindly partiality, that no engagement, -no assemblage whatsoever took place, from the most selectly private, -to the most gorgeously public, to which the Grevilles were invited, -in which he was not included: and he formed at that period many -connections of lasting and honourable intimacy; particularly with Dr. -Hawkesworth, Mr. Boone, and Mr. Cox. - -They acted, also, sundry proverbs, interludes, and farces, in which -young Burney was always a principal personage. In one, amongst -others, he played his part with a humour so entertaining, that its -nick-name was fastened upon him for many years after its appropriate -representation. It would be difficult, indeed, not to accord him -theatrical talents, when he could perform with success a character so -little congenial with his own, as that of a finical, conceited coxcomb, -a paltry and illiterate poltroon; namely, Will Fribble, Esq., in -Garrick’s farce of Miss in her Teens. Mr. Greville himself was Captain -Flash, and the beautiful Mrs. Greville was Miss Biddy Bellair; by which -three names, from the great diversion their adoption had afforded, they -corresponded with one another during several years. - -The more serious honour that had been conferred upon young Burney, of -personating the part of father to Mrs. Greville, was succeeded, in -due season after these gay espousals, by that of personating the part -of god-father to her daughter; in standing, as the representative of -the Duke of Beaufort, at the baptism of Miss Greville, afterwards the -all-admired, and indescribably beautiful Lady Crewe. - -Little could he then foresee, that he was bringing into the christian -community a permanent blessing for his own after-life, in one of the -most cordial, confidential, open-hearted, and unalterable of his -friends. - - -ESTHER. - -But not to Mr. Greville alone was flung one of those blissful or -baneful darts, that sometimes fix in a moment, and irreversibly, the -domestic fate of man; just such another, as potent, as pointed, as -piercing, yet as delicious, penetrated, a short time afterwards, the -breast of young Burney; and from eyes perhaps as lovely, though not as -celebrated; and from a mind perhaps as highly gifted, though not as -renowned. - -Esther Sleepe—this memorialist’s mother—of whom she must now with -reverence, with fear—yet with pride and delight—offer the tribute of -a description—was small and delicate, but not diminutive, in person. -Her face had that sculptural oval form which gives to the air of the -head something like the ideal perfection of the poet’s imagination. -Her fair complexion was embellished by a rosy hue upon her cheeks of -Hebe freshness. Her eyes were of the finest azure, and beaming with -the brightest intelligence; though they owed to the softness of their -lustre a still more resistless fascination: and they were set in her -head with such a peculiarity of elegance in shape and proportion, -that they imparted a nobleness of expression to her brow and to her -forehead, that, whether she were beheld when attired for society; or -surprised under the negligence of domestic avocation; she could be -viewed by no stranger whom she did not strike with admiration; she -could be broken in upon by no old friend who did not look at her with -new pleasure. - -It was at a dance that she first was seen by young Burney, at the house -of his elder brother, in Hatton Garden; and that first sight was to him -decisive, for he was not more charmed by her beauty than enchanted by -her conversation. - -So extraordinary, indeed, were the endowments of her mind, that, her -small opportunity for their attainment considered, they are credible -only from having been known upon proof. - -Born in the midst of the city—but not in one of those mansions where, -formerly,[10] luxury and riches revelled with a lavish preponderance -of magnificence, that left many of those of the nobles of the west -plain or old-fashioned in comparison: not in one of those dwellings -of the hospitable English merchant of early days, whose boundless -liberality brought tributary under his roof the arts and sciences, in -the persons of their professors; and who rivalled the nobles in the -accomplishments of their progeny, till, by mingling in acquirements, -they mingled in blood:—the birth of the lovely Esther had nothing -to boast from parental dignity, parental opulence, nor—strange, and -stranger yet to tell—parental worth. - -Alone stood the lovely Esther, unsustained by ancestry, unsupported by -wealth, unimpelled by family virtue—— - -Yet no!—in this last article there was a partnership that redeemed -the defection, since the Male parent was not more wanting in goodness, -probity, and conduct, than the Female was perfect in all—if perfect -were a word that, without presumption, might ever be applied to a human -being. - -With no advantage, therefore, of education, save the simple one of -early learning, or, rather, imbibing the French language, from her -maternal grandfather, who was a native of France, but had been forced -from his country by the edict of Nantz; this gifted young creature -was one of the most pleasing, well-mannered, well-read, elegant, and -even cultivated, of her sex: and wherever she appeared in a social -circle, and was drawn forth—which the attraction of her beauty made -commonly one and the same thing—she was generally distinguished as the -first female of the party for sense, literature, and, rarer still, for -judgment; a pre-eminence, however, not more justly, than, by herself, -unsuspectedly her due; for, more than unassuming, she was ignorant of -her singular superiority.[11] - -To excel in music, or in painting, so as to rival even professors, -save the highest, in those arts, had not then been regarded as the -mere ordinary progress of female education: nor had the sciences yet -become playthings for the nursery. These new roads of ambition for -juvenile eminence are undoubtedly improvements, where they leave not -out more essential acquirements. Yet, perhaps, those who were born -before this elevation was the mode; whose calls, therefore, were not -so multitudinous for demonstrative embellishments, may be presumed to -have risen to more solid advantages in mental attainments, and in the -knowledge and practice of domestic duties, than the super-accomplished -aspirants at excellence in a mass, of the present moment. - -A middle course might, perhaps, be more intellectually salubrious, -because more simple and natural: and foremost herself, if she may be -judged by analogy, foremost herself, had stood this lovely Esther, in -amalgamating the two systems in her own studies and pursuits, had they -equally, at that time, been within the scope of her consciousness: -for straight-forward as was her design in all that she deemed right, -whatever was presented to even a glimpse of her perceptions that was -new and ingenious, rapidly opened to her lively understanding a fresh -avenue to something curious, useful, or amusing, that she felt herself -irresistibly invited to explore. - -Botany, then, was no familiar accomplishment; but flowers and plants -she cultivated with assiduous care; sowing, planting, pruning, -grafting, and rearing them, to all the purposes of sight and scent -that belong to their fragrant enjoyment; though untutored in their -nomenclature, and unlearned in their classification. - -Astronomy, though beyond her grasp as a science, she passionately -caught at in its elementary visibility, loving it for its intrinsic -glory, and enamoured of it yet more fondly from her own favourite idea, -that the soul of the righteous, upon the decease of the body, may -be wafted to realms of light, and permitted thence to look down, as -guardian angel, on those most precious to it left behind. - -Yet so strict was her sense of duty, that she never suffered this -vivid imagination to put it out of its bias; and the clearness of -her judgment regulated so scrupulously the disposition of her hours, -that, without neglecting any real devoir, she made leisure, by skilful -arrangements and quickness of execution, for nearly every favourite -object that hit her fancy; holding almost as sacred the employment of -her spare moments, as most others hold the fulfilment of their stated -occupations. - -And, indeed, so only could she, thus self-taught by self-investigation, -study, and labour, have risen to those various excellences that struck -all who saw, and impressed all who knew her, with admiration mingled -with wonder. - -Critical was the first instant of meeting between two young persons -thus similarly self-modelled, and thus singularly demonstrating, that -Education, with all her rules, her skill, her experienced knowledge, -and her warning wisdom, may so be supplied, be superseded, by Genius, -when allied to Industry, as to raise beings who merit to be pointed out -as examples, even to those who have not a difficulty to combat, who are -spurred by encouragement, and instructed by able teachers; to all which -advantages young Burney and Esther—though as far removed from distress -as from affluence—were equally strangers. - -Who shall be surprised that two such beings, thus opening into life -and distinction through intellectual vigour, and thus instinctively -sustaining unaided conflicts against the darkness of ignorance, the -intricacies of new doctrines, and all the annoying obstructions of -early prejudices,—who shall be surprised, that two such beings, where, -on one side, there was so much beauty to attract, and on the other so -much discernment to perceive the value of her votary, upon meeting each -other at the susceptible age of ardent youth, should have emitted, -spontaneously, and at first sight, from heart to heart, sparks so -bright and pure that they might be called electric, save that their -flame was exempt from any shock? - -Young Burney at this time had no power to sue for the hand, though he -had still less to forbear suing for the heart, of this fair creature: -not only he had no fortune to lay at her feet, no home to which he -could take her, no prosperity which he could invite her to share; -another barrier, which seemed to him still more formidable, stood -imperviously in his way—his peculiar position with Mr. Greville. - -That gentleman, in freeing the subject of these memoirs from his -engagements with Dr. Arne, meant to act with as much kindness as -munificence; for, casting aside all ostentatious parade, he had shown -himself as desirous to gain, as to become, a friend. Yet was there no -reason to suppose he purposed to rear a vine, of which he would not -touch the grapes. - -To be liberal, suited at once the real good taste of his character, -and his opinion of what was due to his rank in life; and in procuring -to himself the double pleasure of the society and the talents of -young Burney, he thought his largess to Dr. Arne well bestowed; but it -escaped his reflections, that the youth whom he made his companion in -London, at Wilbury House, at Newmarket, and at Bath, in quitting the -regular pursuit of his destined profession, risked forfeiting the most -certain guarantee to prosperity in business, progressive perseverance. - -Nevertheless, those drawbacks to this splendid connection occurred not -at its beginning, nor yet for many a day after, to the young votary -of Apollo. The flattering brilliancy of the change, and the sort of -romance that hung upon its origin, kept aloof all calculations of its -relative mischiefs; which only distantly to have contemplated, in the -sparkling novelty that mingled such gay pleasure with his gratitude, -would have appeared to him ungenerous, if not sordid. Youth is rarely -enlightened by foresight upon prudential prospects; and the mental -optic of young Burney was not quickened to this perception, till the -desire of independence to his fortune was excited by the loss of it to -his heart; for never had he missed his liberty, till he sighed to make -it a fresh sacrifice to a more lasting bondage. - -It was then he first felt the torment of uncertain situation; it -was then he appreciated the high male value of self-dependence; it -was then he first conceived, that, though gaiety may be found, and -followed, and met, and enjoyed abroad, not there, but at home, is -happiness! Yet, from the moment a bosom whisper softly murmured to him -the name of Esther, he had no difficulty to believe in the distinct -existence of happiness from pleasure; and—still less to devise -where—for him—it must be sought. - -When he made known to his fair enslaver his singular position, and -entreated her counsel to disentangle him from a net, of which, till -now, the soft texture had impeded all discernment of the confinement, -the early wisdom with which she preached to him patience and -forbearance, rather diminished than augmented his power of practising -either, by an increase of admiration that doubled the eagerness of his -passion. - -Nevertheless, he was fain to comply with her counsel, though less from -acquiescence than from helplessness how to devise stronger measures, -while under this nameless species of obligation to Mr. Greville, which -he could not satisfy his delicacy in breaking; nor yet, in adhering to, -justify his sense of his own rights. - -He could consent, however, to be passive only while awaiting some -happy turn for propitiating his efforts to escape from the sumptuous -scenes, which, with his heart away from them, he now looked upon as -obscuring, not illuminating, his existence; since they promoted not -the means of arriving at all he began to hold worth pursuit, “Home, -sweet home!” which he now severely saw could be reached only by regular -assiduity in his profession. - -From this time it was with difficulty he could assume spirit sufficient -for sustaining his intercourse, hitherto so happy, so lively, with the -Grevilles; not alone from the sufferings of absence, but from hard -secret conflicts, whether or not to reveal his distress. Mr. Greville, -who, a short time back would quickly have discerned his latent -uneasiness, was now so occupied by his own new happiness, conjugal and -paternal, that though he welcomed young Burney with unabated kindness, -his own thoughts, and his observations, were all centered in his two -Fannys. - -During the first fair breathings of early wedded love, the scoff -of the tender passion, the sneer against romance, the contempt of -refined reciprocations of sentiment, are done away, even from the most -sarcastic, by a newly imbibed consciousness of the felicity of virtuous -tenderness; which were its permanence more frequently equal to its -enjoyment, would irresistibly convert the scorn of its deriders into -envy. But constancy in affection from long dissipated characters, must -always, whether in friendship or in love, be as rare as it is right; -for constancy requires virtue to be leagued with the passions. - -Unmarked, therefore, young Burney kept to himself his unhappiness; -though he was not now impeded from communication by fears of the -raillery with which, previously to his marriage, Mr. Greville would -have held up to mockery a tale of love in a cottage, as a proper -pendant to a tale of love in bedlam. But still he was withheld from -all genial confidence, by apprehensions of remonstrances which he -now considered as mercenary, if not derogatory, against imprudent -connexions; and of representations of his own claims to higher views; -which he now, from his belief that his incomparable choice would -out-balance in excellence all vain attempts at competition, deemed -profane if not insane. - -Mrs. Greville, having no clew to his secret feelings, was not aware of -their disturbance; she might else easily, and she would willingly, have -drawn forth his confidence, from the kindly disposition that subsisted, -on both sides, to trust and to friendship. - -But a discovery the most painful of the perturbed state of his mind, -was soon afterwards impelled by a change of affairs in the Grevilles, -which they believed would enchant him with pleasure; but which they -found, to their unspeakable astonishment, overpowered him with -affliction. - -This was no other than a plan of going abroad for some years, and of -including him in their party. - -Concealment was instantly at an end. The sudden dismay of his ingenuous -countenance, though it told not the cause, betrayed past recall his -repugnance to the scheme. - -With parts so lively, powers of observation so ready, and a spirit so -delighting in whatever was uncommon and curious, they had expected -that such a prospect of visiting new countries, surveying new scenes, -mingling with new characters; and traversing the foreign world, under -their auspices, in all its splendour, would have raised in him a -buoyant transport, exhilarating to behold. But the sudden paleness -that overspread his face; his downcast eye; the quiver of his lips; -and the unintelligible stammer of his vainly attempted reply, excited -interrogatories so anxious and so vehement, that they soon induced an -avowal that a secret power had gotten possession of his mind, and -sturdily exiled from it all ambition, curiosity, or pleasure, that came -not in the form of an offering to its all-absorbing shrine. - -Every objection and admonition which he had anticipated, were -immediately brought forward by this confession; but they were presented -with a lenity that showed his advisers to be fully capable of -conceiving, though persuaded that they ought to oppose, his feelings. - -Disconcerted, as well as dejected, because dissatisfied as well as -unhappy in his situation, from mental incertitudes what were its real -calls; and whether or not the ties of interest and obligation were -here of sufficient strength to demand the sacrifice of those of love; -he attempted not to vindicate, unreflectingly, his wishes; and still -less did he permit himself to treat them as his intentions. With faint -smiles, therefore, but stifled sighs, he heard, with civil attention, -their opinions; though, determined not to involve himself in any -embarrassing conditions, he would risk no reply; and soon afterwards, -curbing his emotion, he started abruptly another subject. - - “They thought him wise, and followed as he led.” - -All the anguish, however, that was here suppressed, found vent with -redoubled force at the feet of the fair partner in his disappointment; -who, while unaffectedly sharing it, resolutely declined receiving -clandestinely his hand, though tenderly she clung to his heart. She -would listen to no project that might lead him to relinquish such solid -friends, at the very moment that they were preparing to give him the -strongest proof of their fondness for his society, and of their zeal in -his benefit and improvement. - -Young Burney was not the less unhappy at this decision from being -sensible of its justice, since his judgment could not but thank her, in -secret, for pronouncing the hard dictates of his own. - -All that he now solicited was her picture, that he might wear her -resemblance next his heart, till that heart should beat to its -responsive original. - -With this request she gracefully complied; and she sat for him to -Spencer, one of the most famous miniature painters of that day. - -Of striking likeness was this performance, of which the head and -unornamented hair were executed with the most chaste simplicity; -and young Burney reaped from this possession all that had power to -afford him consolation; since he now could soften off the pangs of -separation, by gliding from company, public places or assemblages, to -commune by himself with the countenance of all he held most dear. - -Thus solaced, he resigned himself with more courage to his approaching -misfortune. - -The Grevilles, it is probable, from seeing him apparently revived, -imagined that, awakened from his flights of fancy, he was recovering -his senses: but when, from this idea, they started, with light -raillery, the tender subject, they found their utter mistake. The -most distant hint of abandoning such excellence, save for the moment, -and from the moment’s necessity, nearly convulsed him with inward -disturbance; and so changed his whole appearance, that, concerned as -well as amazed, they were themselves glad to hasten from so piercing a -topic. - -Too much moved, however, to regain his equilibrium, he could not -be drawn from a disturbed taciturnity, till shame, conquering his -agitation, enabled him to call back his self-command. He forced, then, -a laugh at his own emotion; but, presently afterwards seized with an -irresistible desire of shewing what he thought its vindication, he -took from his bosom the cherished miniature, and placed it, fearfully, -almost awfully, upon a table. - -It was instantly and eagerly snatched from hand to hand by the gay -couple; and young Burney had the unspeakable relief of perceiving -that this impulsive trial was successful. With expansive smiles they -examined and discussed the charm of the complexion, the beauty of -the features, and the sensibility and sweetness conveyed by their -expression: and what was then the joy, the pride of heart, the soul’s -delight of the subject of these memoirs, when those fastidious judges, -and superior self-possessors of personal attractions, voluntarily and -generously united in avowing that they could no longer wonder at his -captivation. - -As a statue he stood fixed before them; a smiling one, indeed; a happy -one; but as breathless, as speechless, as motionless. - -Mr. Greville then, with a laugh, exclaimed, “But why, Burney, why don’t -you marry her?” - -Whether this were uttered sportively, inadvertently, or seriously, -young Burney took neither time nor reflection to weigh; but, starting -forward with ingenuous transport, called out, “May I?” - -No negative could immediately follow an interrogatory that had thus -been invited; and to have pronounced one in another minute would have -been too late; for the enraptured and ardent young lover, hastily -construing a short pause into an affirmative, blithely left them to the -enjoyment of their palpable amusement at his precipitancy; and flew, -with extatic celerity, to proclaim himself liberated from all mundane -shackles, to her with whom he thought eternal bondage would be a state -celestial. - -From this period, to that of their exquisitely happy union, - - “Gallopp’d apace the fiery-footed steeds,” - -that urged on Time with as much gay delight as prancing rapidity; -for if they had not, in their matrimonial preparations, the luxuries -of wealth, neither had they its fatiguing ceremonies; if they had -not the security of future advantage, they avoided the torment of -present procrastination; and if they had but little to bestow upon one -another, they were saved, at least, the impatiency of waiting for the -seals, signatures, and etiquettes of lawyers, to bind down a lucrative -prosperity to survivorship. - -To the mother of the bride, alone of her family, was confided, on the -instant, this spontaneous, this sudden felicity. Little formality -was requisite, before the passing of the marriage act, for presenting -at the hymeneal altar its destined votaries; and contracts the most -sacred could be rendered indissoluble almost at the very moment of -their projection: a strange dearth of foresight in those legislators -who could so little weigh the chances of a minor’s judgment upon what, -eventually, may either suit his taste or form his happiness, for the -larger portion of existence that commonly follows his majority. - -This mother of the bride was of a nature so free from stain, so -elementally white, that it would scarcely seem an hyperbole to -denominate her an angel upon earth—if purity of mind that breathed -to late old age the innocence of infancy, and sustained the whole -intervening period in the constant practice of self-sacrificing -virtue, with piety for its sole stimulus, and holy hope for its -sole reward, can make pardonable the hazard of such an anticipating -appellation,—from which, however, she, her humble self, would have -shrunk as from sacrilege. - -She was originally of French extraction, from a family of the name of -Dubois; but though her father was one of the conscientious victims -of the Edict of Nantz, she, from some unknown cause— probably of -maternal education—had been brought up a Roman Catholic. The inborn -religion of her mind, however, counteracted all that was hostile to her -fellow-creatures, in the doctrine of the religion of her ancestors; and -her gentle hopes and fervent prayers were offered up as devoutly for -those whom she feared were wrong, as they were vented enthusiastically -for those whom she was bred to believe were right. - -Her bridal daughter, who had been educated a Protestant, and who -to that faith adhered steadily and piously through life, loved her -with that devoted love which could not but emanate from sympathy of -excellence. She was the first pride of her mother,—or, rather, the -first delight; for pride, under any form, or through any avenue, direct -or collateral, by which that subtle passion works or swells its way to -the human breast, her mother knew not; though she was endued with an -innate sense of dignity that seemed to exhale around her a sentiment of -reverence that, notwithstanding her genuine and invariable humility, -guarded her from every species and every approach of disrespect. - -She could not but be gratified by an alliance so productive, rather -than promising, of happiness to her favourite child; and Mr. -Burney—as the married man must now be called—soon imbibed the filial -veneration felt by his wife, and loved his mother-in-law as sincerely -as if she had been his mother-in-blood. - -All plan of going abroad was now, of course, at an end; and the -Grevilles, and their beautiful infant daughter, leaving behind them -Benedict the married man, set out, a family trio, upon their tour. - -The customary compliments of introduction on one hand, and of -congratulation on the other, passed, in their usual forms upon such -occasions, between the bridegroom and his own family. - - * * * * * - -Rarely can the highest zest of pleasure awaken, in its most active -votary, a sprightliness of pursuit more gay or more spirited, than -Mr. Burney now experienced and exhibited in the commonly grave and -sober career of business, from the ardour of his desire to obtain -self-dependence. - -He worked not, indeed, with the fiery excitement of expectation; his -reward was already in his hands; but from the nobler impulse he worked -of meriting his fair lot; while she, his stimulus, deemed her own the -highest prize from that matrimonial wheel whence issue bliss or bane to -the remnant life of a sensitive female. - - -THE CITY. - -It was in the city, in consequence of his wife’s connexions, that Mr. -Burney made his first essay as a housekeeper; and with a prosperity -that left not a doubt of his ultimate success. Scholars, in his musical -art, poured in upon him from all quarters of that British meridian; -and he mounted so rapidly into the good graces of those who were most -opulent and most influential, that it was no sooner known that there -was a vacancy for an organist professor, in one of the fine old fabrics -of devotion which decorate religion in the city and reflect credit on -our commercial ancestors, than the Fullers, Hankeys, and all other -great houses of the day to which he had yet been introduced, exerted -themselves in his service with an activity and a warmth that were -speedily successful; and that he constantly recounted with pleasure. - -Anxious to improve as well as to prosper in his profession, he also -elaborately studied composition, and brought forth several musical -pieces; all of which that are authenticated, will be enumerated in a -general list of his musical works. - -And thus, with a felicity that made toil delicious, through labour -repaid by prosperity; exertions, by comfort; fatigue, by soothing -tenderness; and all the fond passions of juvenile elasticity, by the -charm of happiest sympathy,—began, and were rolling on, equally -blissful and busy, the first wedded years of this animated young -couple;—when a storm suddenly broke over their heads, which menaced -one of those deadly catastrophes, that, by engulphing one loved object -in that “bourne whence no traveller returns,” tears up for ever by -the root all genial, spontaneous, unsophisticated happiness, from the -survivor. - -Mr. Burney, whether from overstrained efforts in business; or from -an application exceeding his physical powers in composition; or from -the changed atmosphere of Cheshire, Shropshire, and Wiltshire, for -the confined air of our great and crowded city; which had not then, -as now, by a vast mass of improvement, been made nearly as sane as it -is populous; suddenly fell, from a state of the most vigorous health, -to one the most alarming, of premature decay. And to this defalcation -of strength was shortly added the seizure of a violent and dangerous -fever that threatened his life. - -The sufferings of the young wife, who was now also a young mother, can -only be conceived by contrasting them with her so recent happiness. -Yet never did she permit grief to absorb her faculties, nor to -vanquish her fortitude. She acted with the same spirited force of -mind, as if she had been a stranger to the timid terrors of the heart. -She superintended all that was ordered; she executed, where it was -possible, all that was performed; she was sedulously careful that no -business should be neglected; and her firmness in all that belonged to -the interests of her husband, seemed as invulnerable as if that had -been her sole occupation; though never, for a moment, was grief away -from her side, and though perpetually, irresistibly she wept,—for -sorrow with the youthful is always tearful. Yet she strove to disallow -herself that indulgence; refusing time even for gently wiping from her -cheeks the big drops of liquid anguish which coursed their way; and -only, and hastily, almost with displeasure, brushing them off with her -hand; while resolutely continuing, or renewing, some useful operation, -as if she were but mechanically engaged. - -All this was recorded by her adoring husband in an elegy of after-times. - -The excellent and able Dr. Armstrong, already the friend of the -invalid, was now sent to his aid by the Hon. and Rev. Mr. Home, who -had conceived the warmest esteem for the subject of these memoirs. -The very sight of this eminent physician was medicinal; though the -torture he inflicted by the blister after blister with which he deemed -it necessary to almost cover, and almost flay alive, his poor patient, -required all the high opinion in which that patient held the doctor’s -skill for endurance. - -The unsparing, but well-poised, prescriptions of this poetical -Æsculapius, succeeded, however, in dethroning and extirpating the -raging fever, that, perhaps, with milder means, had undermined the -sufferer’s existence. But a consumptive menace ensued, with all its -fearful train of cough, night perspiration, weakness, glassy eyes, -and hectic complexion; and Dr. Armstrong, foreseeing an evil beyond -the remedies of medicine, strenuously urged an adoption of their most -efficient successor, change of air. - -The patient, therefore, was removed to Canonbury-house; whence, ere -long, by the further advice, nay, injunction, of Dr. Armstrong, he was -compelled to retire wholly from London; after an illness by which, for -thirteen weeks, he had been confined to his bed. - -Most fortunately, Mr. Burney, at this time, had proposals made to him -by a Norfolk baronet, Sir John Turner, who was member for Lynn Regis, -of the place of organist of that royal borough; of which, for a young -man of talents and character, the Mayor and Corporation offered to -raise the salary from twenty to one hundred pounds a year; with an -engagement for procuring to him the most respectable pupils from all -the best families in the town and its neighbourhood. - -Though greatly chagrined and mortified to quit a situation in which he -now was surrounded by cordial friends, who were zealously preparing -for him all the harmonical honours which the city holds within its -patronage; the declining health of the invalid, and the forcibly -pronounced opinion of his scientific medical counsellor, decided the -acceptance of this proposal; and Mr. Burney, with his first restored -strength, set out for his new destination. - - -LYNN REGIS. - -Mr. Burney was compelled to make his first essay of the air, situation, -and promised advantages of Lynn, without the companion to whom he owed -the re-establishment of health that enabled him to try the experiment: -his Esther, as exemplary in her maternal as in her conjugal duties, was -now indispensably detained in town by the most endearing of all ties to -female tenderness, the first offsprings of a union of mutual love; of -which the elder could but just go alone, and the younger was still in -her arms. - -Mr. Burney was received at Lynn with every mark of favour, that could -demonstrate the desire of its inhabitants to attach and fix him to that -spot. He was introduced by Sir John Turner to the mayor, aldermen, -recorder, clergy, physicians, lawyers, and principal merchants, who -formed the higher population of the town; and who in their traffic, the -wine trade, were equally eminent for the goodness of their merchandize -and the integrity of their dealings. - -All were gratified by an acquisition to their distant and quiet town, -that seemed as propitious to society as to the arts; the men with -respect gave their approbation to his sense and knowledge; the women -with smiles bestowed theirs upon his manners and appearance. His air -was so lively, and his figure was so youthful, that the most elegant as -well as beautiful woman of the place, Mrs. Stephen Allen, took him for -a Cambridge student, who, at that time, was expected at Lynn. - -He was not insensible to such a welcome; yet the change was so great -from the splendid or elegant, the classical or amusing circles, into -which he had been initiated in the metropolis, that, in looking, he -said, around him, he seemed to see but a void. - -The following energetic lament to his Esther, written about a week -after his Lynn residence, will best explain his tormented sensations at -this altered scene of life. He was but in his twenty-fourth year, when -he gave way to this quick burst of chagrin. - - “TO MRS. BURNEY. - “_Lynn Regis, Monday._ - - “Now, my amiable friend, let me unbosom myself to thee, as if - I were to enjoy the incomparable felicity of thy presence. - And first—let me exclaim at the unreasonableness of man’s - desires; at his unbounded ambition and avarice, and at the - inconstancy of his temper, which impels him, the moment he - is in the possession of the thing that once employed all his - thoughts and wishes, to relinquish it, and to fix his “mind’s - eye” on some bauble that next becomes his point of view, and - that, if attained, he would wish as much to change for still - another toy, of still less consequence to his interest and - quiet. Oh thou constant tenant of my heart! to apply the - above to myself,—thou art the only good I have been constant - to! the only blessing I have been thankful to Providence - for! the only one, I feel, I shall ever continue to have - a true sense of! Ought I not to blush at this character’s - suiting me? Indeed I ought, and I do. Not that I think it - one peculiar to myself; I believe it would fit more than - half mankind. But it shames me to think how little I knew - myself, when I fancied I should be happy in this place. Oh - God! I find it impossible I should ever be so. Would you - believe it, that I have more than a hundred times wished I - had never heard its name? Nothing but the hope of acquiring - an independent fortune in a short space of time will keep me - here; though I am too deeply entered to retreat without great - loss. But happiness cannot be too dearly purchased. In short, - I would gladly change again for London, at any rate. - - * * * * * - - “The organ is execrably bad; and, add to that, a total - ignorance of the most known and common musical merits runs - through the whole body of people I have yet conversed with. - Even Sir J. T., who is the oracle of Apollo in this country, - is, in these matters, extremely shallow. Now the bad organ, - with the ignorance of my auditors, must totally extinguish - the few sparks of genius for composition that I may have, - and entirely discourage practice; for where would any pains - I may take to execute the most difficult piece of music be - repaid, if, like poor Orpheus, I am to perform to sticks and - stones?” - -Ere long, however, Mr. Burney saw his prospects in a fairer point of -view. He found himself surrounded by some very worthy and amiable -persons, perfectly disposed to be his friends; and he became attached -to their kindness. The unfixed state of his health made London a -perilous place of abode for him; and his Esther pleaded for his -accommodating himself to his new situation. - -He took, therefore, a pretty and convenient house, and sent for what, -next to his lovely wife, he most valued, his books; and when they came, -and when she herself was coming, he revived in his hopes and spirits, -and hastened her approach by the following affectionate rhymes—they -must not, in these fastidious days, be called verses. The austere -critic is besought, therefore, not to fall on the fair fame of the -writer, by considering them as produced for public inspection; nor as -assuming the high present character of poetry. They are inserted only -biographically, from a dearth of any further prose document, by which -might be conveyed, in the simplicity of his own veracious diction, -some idea of the sympathy and the purity of his marriage happiness, by -the rare picture which these lines present of an intellectual lover in -a tender husband. - - “TO MRS. BURNEY. - “_Lynn Regis._ - - “Come, my darling!—quit the town; - Come!—and me with rapture crown. - - * * * * * - - If ’tis meet to fee or bribe - A leech of th’ Æsculapius tribe, - We Hepburn have, who’s wise as Socrates, - And deep in physic as Hippocrates. - Or, if ’tis meet to take the air, - You borne shall be on horse or mare; - And, ’gainst all chances to provide, - I’ll be your faithful ’squire and guide. - If unadulterate wine be good - To glad the heart, and mend the blood, - We that in plenty boast at Lynn, - Would make with pleasure Bacchus grin. - Should nerves auricular demand - A head profound, and cunning hand, - The charms of music to display, - Pray,—cannot _I_ compose and play? - And strains to your each humour suit - On organ, violin, or flute? - - If these delights you deem too transient, - We modern authors have, or antient, - Which, while I’ve lungs from phthisicks freed, - To thee with rapture, sweet, I’ll read. - If Homer’s bold, inventive fire, - Or Virgil’s art, you most admire; - If Pliny’s eloquence and ease, - Or Ovid’s flowery fancy please; - In fair array they marshall’d stand, - Most humbly waiting your command. - To humanize and mend the heart, - Our serious hours we’ll set apart. - - * * * * * - - We’ll learn to separate right from wrong, - Through Pope’s mellifluous moral song. - If wit and humour be our drift, - We’ll laugh at knaves and fools with Swift. - To know the world, its follies see, - Ourselves from ridicule to free, - To whom for lessons shall we run, - But to the pleasing Addison? - Great Bacon’s learning; Congreve’s wit, - By turns thy humour well may hit. - How sweet, original, and strong, - How high the flights of Dryden’s song! - He, though so often careless found, - Lifts us so high above the ground - That we disdain terrestrial things, - And scale Olympus while he sings. - Among the bards who mount the skies - Whoe’er to such a height could rise - As Milton? he, to whom ’twas given - To plunge to Hell, and mount to Heaven. - How few like thee—my soul’s delight! - Can follow him in every flight? - La Mancha’s knight, on gloomy day, - Shall teach our muscles how to play, - And at the black fanatic class, - We’ll sometimes laugh with Hudibras. - When human passions all subside, - Where shall we find so sure a guide - Through metaphysics’ mazy ground - As Locke—scrutator most profound? - One bard there still remains in store, - And who has him need little more: - A bard above my feeble lay; - Above what wiser scribes can say. - He would the secret thoughts reveal - Of all the human mind can feel: - None e’er like him in every feature - So fair a likeness drew of Nature. - No passion swells the mortal breast - But what his pencil has exprest: - Nor need I tell my heart’s sole queen - That Shakespeare is the bard I mean. - May heaven, all bounteous in its care, - These blessings, and our offspring spare! - And while our lives are thus employ’d, - No earthly bliss left unenjoy’d, - May we—without a sigh or tear— - Together finish our career! - Together gain another station - Without the pangs of separation! - And when our souls have travelled far - Beyond this little dirty star, - Beyond the reach of strife, or noise, - To taste celestial, stable joys— - O may we still together keep— - Or may our death he endless sleep! - - “_Lynn Regis, 19th Dec. 1751._” - -The wife and the babies were soon now in his arms; and this generous -appreciator of the various charms of the one, and kind protector of -the infantile feebleness of the other, cast away every remnant of -discontent; and devoted himself to his family and profession, with an -ardour that left nothing unattempted that seemed within the grasp of -industry, and nothing unaccomplished that came within the reach of -perseverance. - -He had immediately for his pupils the daughters of every house in Lynn, -whose chief had the smallest pretensions to belonging to the upper -classes of the town; while almost all persons of rank in its vicinity, -eagerly sought the assistance of the new professor for polishing the -education of their females: and all alike coveted his society for their -own information or entertainment. - -First amongst those with whom these latter advantages might be -reciprocated, stood, as usual, in towns far off from the metropolis, -the physicians; who, for general education, learning, science, and -politeness, are as frequently the leaders in literature as they are the -oracles in health; and who, with the confraternity of the vicar, and -the superior lawyer, are commonly the allowed despots of erudition and -the belles lettres in provincial circles. - -But while amongst the male inhabitants of the town, Mr. Burney -associated with many whose understandings, and some few whose tastes, -met his own; his wife, amongst the females, was less happy, though -not more fastidious. She found them occupied almost exclusively, in -seeking who should be earliest in importing from London what was newest -and most fashionable in attire; or in vying with each other in giving -and receiving splendid repasts; and in struggling to make their every -rotation become more and more luxurious. - -By no means was this love of frippery, or feebleness of character among -the females, peculiar to Lynn: such, ALMOST[12] universally, is the -inheritance bequeathed from mother to daughter in small towns at a -distance from the metropolis; where there are few suspensive subjects -or pursuits of interest, ambition, or literature, that can enlist -either imagination or instruction into conversation. - -That men, when equally removed from the busy turmoils of cities, or the -meditative studies of retirement, to such circumscribed spheres, should -manifest more vigour of mind, may not always be owing to possessing -it; but rather to their escaping, through the calls of business, that -inertness which casts the females upon themselves: for though many are -the calls more refined than those of business, there are few that more -completely do away with insignificancy. - -In the state, however, in which Lynn then was found, Lynn will be found -no longer. The tide of ignorance is turned; and not there alone, nor -alone in any other small town, but in every village, every hamlet, -nay, every cottage in the kingdom; and though mental cultivation -is as slowly gradual, and as precarious of circulation, as Genius, -o’erleaping all barriers, and disdaining all auxiliaries, is rapid -and decisive, still the work of general improvement is advancing so -universally, that the dark ages which are rolling away, would soon be -lost even to man’s joy at their extirpation, but for the retrospective -and noble services of the press, through which their memory—if only to -be blasted—must live for ever. - -There were two exceptions, nevertheless, to this stagnation of female -merit, that were flowing with pellucid clearness. - -The first, Mrs. Stephen Allen, has already been mentioned. She was the -wife of a wine-merchant of considerable fortune, and of a very worthy -character. She was the most celebrated beauty of Lynn, and might have -been so of a much larger district, for her beauty was high, commanding, -and truly uncommon: and her understanding bore the same description. -She had wit at will; spirits the most vivacious and entertaining; and, -from a passionate fondness for reading, she had collected stores of -knowledge which she was always able, and “nothing loath” to display; -and which raised her to as marked a pre-eminence over her townswomen in -literary acquirements, as she was raised to exterior superiority from -her personal charms. - -The other exception, Miss Dorothy Young, was of a different -description. She was not only denied beauty either of face or person, -but in the first she had various unhappy defects, and in the second -she was extremely deformed. - -Here, however, ends all that can be said in her disfavour; for her mind -was the seat of every virtue that occasion could call into use; and her -disposition had a patience that no provocation could even momentarily -subdue; though her feelings were so sensitive, that tears started into -her eyes at every thing she either saw or heard of mortal sufferings, -or of mortal unkindness—to any human creature but herself. - -It may easily be imagined that this amiable Dorothy Young, and the -elegant and intellectual Mrs. Allen, were peculiar and deeply attached -friends. - -When a professional call brought Mr. Burney and his wife to this -town, that accomplished couple gave a new zest to rational, as well -as a new spring to musical, society. Mr. Burney, between business and -conviviality, immediately visited almost every house in the county; but -his wife, less easily known, because necessarily more domestic, began -her Lynn career almost exclusively with Mrs. Allen and Dolly Young, and -proved to both an inestimable treasure; Mrs. Allen generously avowing -that she set up Mrs. Burney as a model for her own mental improvement; -and Dolly Young becoming instinctively the most affectionate, as well -as most cultivated of Mrs. Burney’s friends; and with an attachment so -fervent and so sincere, that she took charge of the little family upon -every occasion of its increase during the nine or ten years of the Lynn -residence.[13] - -With regard to the extensive neighbourhood, Mr. Burney had soon nothing -left to desire in hospitality, friendship, or politeness; and here, as -heretofore, he scarcely ever entered a house upon terms of business, -without leaving it upon those of intimacy. - -The first mansions to which, naturally, his curiosity pointed, and -at which his ambition aimed, were those two magnificent structures -which stood loftily pre-eminent over all others in the county of -Norfolk, Holcomb and Haughton; though neither the nobleness of their -architecture, the grandeur of their dimensions, nor the vast expense of -their erection, bore any sway in their celebrity, that could compare -with what, at that period, they owed to the arts of sculpture and of -painting. - - -HOLCOMB. - -At Holcomb, the superb collection of statues, as well as of pictures, -could not fail to soon draw thither persons of such strong native taste -for all the arts as Mr. Burney and his wife; though, as there were, at -that time, which preceded the possession of that fine mansion by the -Cokes, neither pupils nor a Male chief, no intercourse beyond that of -the civilities of reception on a public day, took place with Mr. Burney -and the last very ancient lady of the house of Leicester, to whom -Holcomb then belonged. - - -HAUGHTON HALL. - -boasted, at that period, a collection of pictures that not only every -lover of painting, but every British patriot in the arts, must lament -that it can boast no longer.[14] - -It had, however, in the heir and grandson of its founder, Sir Robert -Walpole, first Earl of Orford, a possessor of the most liberal cast; a -patron of arts and artists; munificent in promoting the prosperity of -the first, and blending pleasure with recompense to the second, by the -frank equality with which he treated all his guests; and the ease and -freedom with which his unaffected good-humour and good sense cheered, -to all about him, his festal board. - -Far, nevertheless, from meriting unqualified praise was this noble -peer; and his moral defects, both in practice and example, were -as dangerous to the neighbourhood, of which he ought to have been -the guide and protector, as the political corruption of his famous -progenitor, the statesman, had been hurtful to probity and virtue, in -the courtly circles of his day, by proclaiming, and striving to bring -to proof, his nefarious maxim, “that every man has his price.” - -At the head of Lord Orford’s table was placed, for the reception of -his visitors, a person whom he denominated simply “Patty;” and that so -unceremoniously, that all the most intimate of his associates addressed -her by the same free appellation. - -Those, however, if such there were, who might conclude from this -degrading familiarity, that the Patty of Lord Orford was “every -body’s Patty,” must soon have been undeceived, if tempted to make any -experiment upon such a belief. The peer knew whom he trusted, though he -rewarded not the fidelity in which he confided; but the fond, faulty -Patty loved him with a blindness of passion, that hid alike from her -weak perceptions, her own frailties, and his seductions. - -In all, save that blot, which, on earth, must to a female be ever -indelible, Patty was good, faithful, kind, friendly, and praise-worthy. - -The table of Lord Orford, then commonly called Arthur’s Round Table, -assembled in its circle all of peculiar merit that its neighbourhood, -or rather that the county produced, to meet there the great, the -renowned, and the splendid, who, from their various villas, or the -metropolis, visited Haughton Hall. - -Mr. Burney was soon one of those whom the penetrating peer selected for -a general invitation to his repasts; and who here, as at Wilbury House, -formed sundry intimacies, some of which were enjoyed by him nearly -through life. Particularly must be mentioned - -Mr. Hayes, who was a scholar, a man of sense, and a passionate -lover of books and of prints. He had a great and pleasant turn for -humour, and a fondness and facility for rhyming so insatiable and -irrepressible, that it seemed, like Strife in Spencer’s Faerie Queene, -to be always seeking occasion. - -Yet, save in speaking of that propensity, Strife and John Hayes ought -never to come within the same sentence; for in character, disposition, -and conduct, he was a compound of benevolence and liberality. - -There was a frankness of so unusual a cast, and a warmth of affection, -that seemed so glowing from the heart, in Mr. Hayes for Lord Orford; -joined to so strong a resemblance in face and feature, that a belief, -if not something beyond, prevailed, that Mr. Hayes was a natural son -of Sir Robert Walpole, the first Earl of Orford, and, consequently, a -natural uncle of his Lordship’s grandson. - - -RAINHAM. - -To name the several mansions that called for, or welcomed, Mr. Burney, -would almost be to make a Norfolk Register. At Rainham Castle he was -full as well received by its master, General Lord Townshend, as a -guest, as by its lady, the Baroness de Frerrars in her own right, for -an instructor; the lady being natively cold and quiet, though well bred -and sensible; while the General was warm-hearted, witty, and agreeable; -and conceived a liking for Mr. Burney, that was sustained, with only -added regard, through all his lordship’s various elevations. - - -FELBRIG. - -But there was no villa to which he resorted with more certainty -of finding congenial pleasure, than to Felbrig, where he began an -acquaintance of highest esteem and respect with Mr. Windham, father -of the Right Honourable Privy Counsellor and orator; with whom, also, -long afterwards, he became still more closely connected; and who proved -himself just the son that so erudite and elegant a parent would have -joyed to have reared, had he lived to behold the distinguished rank -in the political and in the learned world to which that son rose; and -the admiration which he excited, and the pleasure which he expanded in -select society. - - -WILLIAM BEWLEY. - -A name next comes forward that must not briefly be glided by; that of -William Bewley; a man for whom Mr. Burney felt the most enlightened -friendship that the sympathetic magnetism of similar tastes, humours, -and feelings, could inspire. - -Mr. Bewley was truly a philosopher, according to the simplest, though -highest, acceptation of that word; for his love of wisdom was of that -unsophisticated species, that regards learning, science, and knowledge, -with whatever delight they may be pursued abstractedly, to be wholly -subservient, collectively, to the duties and practice of benevolence. - -To this nobleness of soul, which made the basis of his character, he -superadded a fund of wit equally rare, equally extraordinary: it was a -wit that sparkled from the vivid tints of an imagination as pure as it -was bright; untarnished by malice, uninfluenced by spleen, uninstigated -by satire. It was playful, original, eccentric: but the depth with -which it could have cut, and slashed, and pierced around him, would -never have been even surmised, from the urbanity with which he forbore -making that missile use of its power, had he not frequently darted out -its keenest edge in ridicule against himself. - -And not alone in this personal severity did he resemble the -self-unsparing Scarron; his outside, though not deformed, was -peculiarly unfortunate; and his eyes, though announcing, upon -examination, something of his mind, were ill-shaped, and ill set in his -head, and singularly small; and no other feature parried this local -disproportion; for his mouth, and his under-jaw, which commonly hung -open, were displeasing to behold. - -The first sight, however, which of so many is the best, was of Mr. -Bewley, not only the worst, but the only bad; for no sooner, in the -most squeamish, was the revolted eye turned away, than the attracted -ear, even of the most fastidious, brought it back, to listen to genuine -instruction conveyed through unexpected pleasantry. - -This original and high character, was that of an obscure surgeon of -Massingham, a small town in the neighbourhood of Haughton Hall. He had -been brought up with no advantages, but what laborious toil had worked -out of native abilities; and he only subsisted by the ordinary process -of rigidly following up the multifarious calls to which, in its -provincial practice, his widely diversified profession is amenable. - -Yet not wholly in “the desert air,” were his talents doomed to be -wasted: they were no sooner spoken of at Haughton Hall, than the gates -of that superb mansion were spontaneously flung open, and its Chief -proved at once, and permanently remained, his noble patron and kind -friend. - - -LYNN REGIS. - -The visits of Mr. Burney to Massingham, and his attachment to -its philosopher, contributed, more than any other connection, to -stimulate that love and pursuit of knowledge, that urge its votaries -to snatch from waste or dissipation those fragments of time, which, -by the general herd of mankind, are made over to Lethe, for reading; -learning languages; composing music; studying sciences; fathoming the -theoretical and mathematical depths of his own art; and seeking at -large every species of intelligence to which either chance or design -afforded him any clew. - -As he could wait upon his country pupils only on horseback, he -purchased a mare that so exactly suited his convenience and his wishes, -in sure-footedness, gentleness and sagacity, that she soon seemed to -him a part of his family: and the welfare and comfort of Peggy became, -ere long, a matter of kind interest to all his house. - -On this mare he studied Italian; for, obliged to go leisurely over the -cross roads with which Norfolk then abounded, and which were tiresome -from dragging sands, or dangerous from deep ruts in clay, half his -valuable time would have been lost in nothingness, but for his trust in -Peggy; who was as careful in safely picking her way, as she was adroit -in remembering from week to week whither she was meant to go. - -Her master, at various odd moments, and from various opportunities, -had compressed, from the best Italian Dictionaries, every word of the -Italian language into a small octavo volume; and from this in one -pocket, and a volume of Dante, Petrarch, Tasso, Ariosto, or Metastasio, -in another, he made himself completely at home in that language of -elegance and poetry. - -His common-place book, at this period, rather merits the appellation of -_un_common, from the assiduous research it manifests, to illustrate -every sort of information, by extracts, abstracts, strictures, or -descriptions, upon the almost universality of subject-matter which it -contains. - -It is without system or method; he had no leisure to put it into order; -yet it is possible, he might owe to his familiar recurrence to that -desultory assemblage of unconcocted materials, the general and striking -readiness with which he met at once almost every topic of discourse. - -This manuscript of scraps, drawn from reading and observation, was, -like his Italian Dictionary, always in his great-coat pocket, when he -travelled; so that if unusually rugged roads, or busied haste, impeded -more regular study, he was sure, in opening promiscuously his pocket -collection of _odds and ends_, to come upon some remark worth weighing; -some point of science on which to ruminate; some point of knowledge to -fix in his memory; or something amusing, grotesque, or little known, -that might recreate his fancy. - - -THE GREVILLES. - -Meanwhile, he had made too real an impression on the affections of -his first friends, to let absence of sight produce absence of mind. -With Mr. and Mrs. Greville he was always in correspondence; though, of -course, neither frequently nor punctually, now that his engagements -were so numerous, his obligations to fulfil them so serious, and that -his own fireside was so bewitchingly in harmony with his feelings, as -to make every moment he passed away from it a sacrifice. - -He expounds his new situation and new devoirs, in reply to a letter -that had long been unanswered, of Mr. Greville’s, from the Continent, -with a sincerity so ingenuous that, though it is in rhyme, it is here -inserted biographically. - - - “TO FULK GREVILLE, ESQ., AT PARIS. - - “Hence, ‘loathed business,’ which so long - Has plunged me in the toiling throng. - Forgive, dear Sir! and gentle Madam! - A drudging younger son of Adam, - Who’s forc’d from morn to night to labor - Or at the pipe, or at the tabor: - Nor has he hope ’twill e’er be o’er - Till landed on some kinder shore; - Some more propitious star, whose rays - Benign, may cheer his future days. - Ah, think for rest how he must pant - Whose life’s the summer of an ant! - With grief o’erwhelm’d, the wretched Abel[15] - Is dumb as architect of Babel. - —Three months of sullen silence—seem - With black ingratitude to teem; - As if my heart were made of stone - Which kindness could not work upon; - Or benefits e’er sit enshrin’d - Within the precincts of my mind. - But think not so, dear Sir! my crime - Proceeds alone from want of time. - No more a giddy youth, and idle, - Without a curb, without a bridle, - Who frisk’d about like colt unbroke, - And life regarded as a joke.— - No!—different duties now are mine; - Nor do I at my cares repine: - With naught to think of but myself - I little heeded worldly pelf; - But now, alert I act and move - For others whom I better love. - Should you refuse me absolution, - Condemning my new institution, - ’Twould chill at once my heart and zeal - For this my little commonweal.— - O give my peace not such a stab! - Nor slay—as Cain did—name-sake Nab. - - * * * * * - - This prologue first premis’d, in hopes - Such figures, metaphors, and tropes - For pardon will not plead in vain, - We’ll now proceed in lighter strain. - - * * * * * - -The epistle then goes on to strictures frank and honest, though -softened off by courteous praise and becoming diffidence, on a -manuscript poem of Mr. Greville’s, that had been confidentially -transmitted to Lynn, for the private opinion and critical judgment of -Mr. Burney. - -Mr. Greville, now, was assuming a new character—that of an author; and -he printed a work which he had long had in agitation, entitled “Maxims, -Characters, and Reflections, Moral, Serious, and Entertaining;” a title -that seemed to announce that England, in its turn, was now to produce, -in a man of family and fashion, a La Bruyere, or a La Rochefoucaul. And -Mr. Greville, in fact, waited for a similar fame with dignity rather -than anxiety, because with expectation unclogged by doubt. - -With Mrs. Greville, also, Mr. Burney kept up an equal, or more than -equal, intercourse, for their minds were invariably in unison. - -The following copy remains of a burlesque rhyming _billet-doux_, -written by Mr. Burney in his old dramatic character of Will Fribble, -and addressed to Mrs. Greville in that of Miss Biddy Bellair, upon her -going abroad. - - - “WILLIAM FRIBBLE, ESQ. - - “TO HER WHO WAS ONCE MISS BIDDY BELLAIR. - - “_Greeting._ - - “No boisterous hackney coachman clown, No frisky fair nymph of - the town E’er wore so insolent a brow As Captain Flash, since - Hymen’s vow To him in silken bonds has tied So sweet, so fair, - so kind a bride. Well! curse me, now, if I can bear it!— - Though to his face I’d not declare it— To think that you - should take a dance With such a roister into France; And leave - poor Will in torturing anguish To sigh and pine, to grieve and - languish. ’Twas—let me tell you, Ma’am—quite cruel! Though - Jack and I shall fight a duel If ever he to England come And - does not skulk behind a drum. But—apropos to coming over, I - hope you soon will land at Dover That I may fly, more swift - than hawk, With you to have some _serus_ talk. The while, how - great will be my bliss Should you but deign to let me kiss— O - may these ardent vows prevail!— Your little finger’s vermeil - nail! Who am, Till direful death to dust shall crumble, My - dearest _cretur_! yours, - most humble, - “WILL FRIBBLE.” - -Mrs. Greville, too, had commenced being an author; but without either -the throes of pain or the joys of hope. It was, in fact, a burst of -genius emanating from a burst of sorrow, which found an alleviating -vent in a supplication to Indifference. - -This celebrated ode was no sooner seen than it was hailed with a blaze -of admiration, that passed first from friend to friend; next from -newspapers to magazines; and next to every collection of fugitive -pieces of poetry in the English language.[16] - -The constant friendship that subsisted between this lady and Mr. Burney -bad been cemented after his marriage, by the grateful pleasure with -which he saw his chosen partner almost instantly included in it by -a triple bond. The quick-sighted, and quick-feeling author of that -sensitive ode, needed nor time nor circumstance for animating her -perception of such merit as deserved a place in her heart; which had -not, at that early period, become a suppliant for the stoical composure -with which her wounded sensibility sought afterwards to close its -passage. - -She had first seen the fair Esther in the dawning bloom of youthful -wedded love, while new-born happiness enlivened her courage, -embellished her beauty, and enabled her to do honour to the choice of -her happy husband; who stood so high in the favour of Mrs. Greville, -that the sole aim of that lady, in the opening of the acquaintance, -had been his gratification; aided, perhaps, by a natural curiosity, -which attaches itself to the sight of any object who has inspired an -extraordinary passion. - -Far easier to conceive than to delineate was the rapture of the young -bridegroom when, upon a meeting that, unavoidably, must have been -somewhat tremendous, he saw the exertions of his lovely bride to -substitute serenity for bashfulness; and read, in the piercing eyes of -Mrs. Greville, the fullest approbation of such native self-possession. - -From that time all inferiority of worldly situation was counteracted by -intellectual equality.[17] - -But the intercourse had for several years been interrupted from the -Grevilles living abroad. It was renewed, however, upon their return -to England; and the Burneys, with their eldest daughter,[18] visited -Wilbury House upon every vacation that allowed time to Mr. Burney -for the excursion. And every fresh meeting increased the zest for -another. They fell into the same train of observation upon characters, -things, and books; and enjoyed, with the same gaiety of remark, all -humorous incidents, and all traits of characteristic eccentricity. -Mrs. Greville began a correspondence with Mrs. Burney the most open -and pleasantly communicative. But no letters of Mrs. Burney remain; -and two only of Mrs. Greville have been preserved. These two, however, -demonstrate all that has been said of the terms and the trust of their -sociality.[19] - - -DOCTOR JOHNSON. - -How singularly Mr. Burney merited encouragement himself, cannot more -aptly be exemplified than by portraying the genuine ardour with which -he sought to stimulate the exertions of genius in others, and to -promote their golden as well as literary laurels. - -Mr. Burney was one of the first and most fervent admirers of those -luminous periodical essays upon morals, literature, and human nature, -that adorned the eighteenth century, and immortalized their author, -under the vague and inadequate titles of the Rambler and the Idler. He -took them both in; he read them to all his friends; and was the first -to bring them to a bookish little coterie that assembled weekly at -Mrs. Stephen Allen’s. And the charm expanded over these meetings, by -the original lecture of these refined and energetic lessons of life, -conduct, and opinions, when breathed through the sympathetic lips of -one who felt every word with nearly the same force with which every -word had been dictated, excited in that small auditory a species of -enthusiasm for the author, that exalted him at once in their ideas, to -that place which the general voice of his country has since assigned -him, of the first writer of the age. - -Mr. Bewley more than joined in this literary idolatry; and the works, -the character, and the name of Dr. Johnson, were held by him in a -reverence nearly enthusiastic. - -At Haughton, at Felbrig, at Rainham, at Sir A. Wodehouse’s, at -Major Mackenzie’s, and wherever his judgment had weight, Mr. Burney -introduced and recommended these papers. And when, in 1755, the plan -of Dr. Johnson’s Dictionary reached Norfolk, Mr. Burney, by the zeal -with which he spread the fame of that lasting monument of the Doctor’s -matchless abilities, was enabled to collect orders for a Norfolk packet -of half a dozen copies of that noble work. - -This empowered him to give some vent to his admiration; and the -following letter made the opening to a connection that he always -considered as one of the greatest honours of his life.[20] - - MR. BURNEY TO MR. JOHNSON. - - “Sir, - - “Though I have never had the happiness of a personal - knowledge of you, I cannot think myself wholly a stranger to - a man with whose sentiments I have so long been acquainted; - for it seems to me as if the writer, who was sincere, had - effected the plan of that philosopher who wished men had - windows at their breasts, through which the affections of - their hearts might be viewed. - - “It is with great self-denial that I refrain from giving way - to panegyric in speaking of the pleasure and instruction - I have received from your admirable writings; but knowing - that transcendent merit shrinks more at praise, than either - vice or dulness at censure, I shall compress my encomiums - into a short compass, and only tell you that I revere your - principles and integrity, in not prostituting your genius, - learning, and knowledge of the human heart, in ornamenting - vice or folly with those beautiful flowers of language due - only to wisdom and virtue. I must add, that your periodical - productions seem to me models of true genius, useful - learning, and elegant diction, employed in the service of the - purest precepts of religion, and the most inviting morality. - - “I shall waive any further gratification of my wish to - tell you, Sir, how much I have been delighted by your - productions, and proceed to the _business_ of this letter; - which is no other than to beg the favour of you to inform - me, by the way that will give you the least trouble, when, - and in what manner, your admirably planned, and long - wished-for Dictionary will be published? If it should be - by subscription, or you should have any books at your own - disposal, I shall beg of you to favour me with six copies for - myself and friends, for which I will send you a draft. - - “I ought to beg pardon of the public as well as yourself, - Sir, for detaining you thus long from your useful labours; - but it is the fate of men of eminence to be persecuted by - insignificant friends as well as enemies; and the simple - cur who barks through fondness and affection, is no less - troublesome than if stimulated by anger and aversion. - - “I hope, however, that your philosophy will incline you to - forgive the intemperance of my zeal and impatience in making - these inquiries; as well as my ambition to subscribe myself, - with very great regard, - - “Sir, your sincere admirer, and most humble servant, - - “CHARLES BURNEY.” - - “_Lynn Regis, 16th Feb. 1755._” - -Within two months of the date of this letter, its writer was honoured -with the following answer. - - “_To Mr. Burney, in Lynn Regis, Norfolk._ - - “SIR, - - “If you imagine that by delaying my answer I intended to shew - any neglect of the notice with which you have favoured me, - you will neither think justly of yourself nor of me. Your - civilities were offered with too much elegance not to engage - attention; and I have too much pleasure in pleasing men like - you, not to feel very sensibly the distinction which you have - bestowed upon me. - - “Few consequences of my endeavours to please or to benefit - mankind, have delighted me more than your friendship thus - voluntarily offered; which, now I have it, I hope to keep, - because I hope to continue to deserve it. - - “I have no Dictionaries to dispose of for myself; but shall - be glad to have you direct your friends to Mr. Dodsley, - because it was by his recommendation that I was employed in - the work. - - “When you have leisure to think again upon me, let me be - favoured with another letter, and another yet, when you - have looked into my Dictionary. If you find faults, I shall - endeavour to mend them: if you find none, I shall think you - blinded by kind partiality: but to have made you partial in - his favour will very much gratify the ambition of, - - “Sir, - - “Your most obliged - - “And most humble servant, - - “SAM. JOHNSON.” - - “_Gough-square, Fleet-street_, - - “_April 8, 1755_.” - -A reply so singularly encouraging, demanding “another letter,” and -yet “another,” raised the spirits, and flattered the hopes—it might -almost be said the foresight—of Mr. Burney, with a prospect of future -intimacy, that instigated the following unaffected answer. - - “SIR, - - “That you should think my letter worthy of notice was what I - began to despair of; and, indeed, I had framed and admitted - several reasons for your silence, more than sufficient for - your exculpation. But so highly has your politeness overrated - my intentions, that I find it impossible for me to resist - accepting the invitation with which you have honoured me, of - writing to you again, though conscious that I have nothing to - offer that can by any means merit your attention. - - “It is with the utmost impatience that I await the possession - of your great work, in which every literary difficulty will - he solved, and curiosity gratified, at least as far as - English literature is concerned: nor am I fearful of letting - expectation rise to the highest summit in which she can - accompany reason. - - “From what you are pleased to say concerning Mr. Dodsley, I - shall ever think myself much his debtor; but yet I cannot - help suspecting that you intended him a compliment when you - talked of _recommendation_. Is it possible that the world - should be so blind, or booksellers so stupid, as to need - other recommendation than your own? Indeed, I shall honour - _both_, world and booksellers, so far as to substitute - _solicitation_ in the place of the above humiliating term. - - - “Perhaps you will smile when I inform you, that since first - the rumour of your Dictionary’s coming abroad this winter - was spread, I have been supposed to be marvellously deep in - politics: not a sun has set since the above time without - previously lighting me to the coffee-house; nor risen, - without renewing my curiosity. But time, the great revealer - of secrets, has at length put an end to my solicitude; - for, if there be truth in book men, I can now, by cunning - calculation, foretell the day and hour when it will arrive at - Lynn. - - “If, which is probable, I should fix my future abode in - London, I cannot help rejoicing that I shall then be an - inhabitant of the same town, and exulting that I shall then - be a fellow citizen with Mr. Johnson; and were it possible - I could be honoured with a small share of his esteem, I - should regard it as the most grateful circumstance of my - life. And—shall I add, that I have a female companion, whose - intellects are sufficiently masculine to enter into the - true spirit of your writings, and, consequently, to have an - enthusiastic zeal for them and their author? How happy would - your presence make us over our tea, so often meliorated by - your productions! - - “If, in the mean time, your avocations would permit you to - bestow a line or two upon me, without greatly incommoding - yourself, it would communicate the highest delight to - - “Sir, - - “Your most obedient, - - “And most humble servant, - - “CHA^s. BURNEY.” - - “Have you, Sir, ever met with a little French book, entitled, - ‘Synonimes François, par M. l’Abbé Girard?’ I am inclined to - imagine, if you have not seen it, that it would afford you, - as a philologer, some pleasure, it being written with great - spirit, and, I think, accuracy: but I should rejoice to have - my opinion either confirmed or corrected by yours. If you - should find any difficulty in procuring the book, mine is - wholly at your service.” - - “_Lynn Regis, April 14th, 1755._” - -To this letter there was little chance of any answer, the demanded -“another,” relative to the Dictionary, being still due. - -That splendid, and probably, from any single intellect, unequalled -work, for vigour of imagination and knowledge amidst the depths of -erudition, came out in 1756. And, early in 1757, Mr. Burney paid his -faithful homage to its author. - - “_To Mr. Johnson, Gough-square._ - - “SIR, - - “Without exercising the greatest self-denial, I should not - have been able thus long to withhold from you my grateful - acknowledgments for the delight and instruction you have - afforded me by means of your admirable Dictionary—a work, - I believe, not yet equalled in any language; for, not - to mention the accuracy, precision, and elegance of the - definitions, the illustrations of words are so judiciously - and happily selected as to render it a repository, and, I - had almost said, universal register of whatever is sublime - or beautiful in English literature. In looking for words, we - constantly find things. The road, indeed, to the former, is - so flowery as not to be travelled with speed, at least by - me, who find it impossible to arrive at the intelligence I - want, without bating by the way, and revelling in collateral - entertainment. Were I to express all that I think upon this - subject, your Dictionary would be stript of a great part of - its furniture: but as praise is never gratefully received - by the justly deserving till a deduction is first made of - the ignorance or partiality of him who bestows it, I shall - support my opinion by a passage from a work of reputation - among our neighbours, which, if it have not yet reached you, - I shall rejoice at being the first to communicate, in hopes - of augmenting the satisfaction arising from honest fame, - and a conviction of having conferred benefits on mankind: - well knowing with how parsimonious and niggard a hand men - administer comfort of the kind to modest merit. - - “‘Le savant et ingenieux M. Samuel Johnson, qui, dans - l’incomparable feuille periodique intitulée le Rambler, - apprenoit à ses compatriotes à penser avec justesse sur - les matières les plus interessantes, vient de leur fournir - des secours pour bien parler, et pour écrire correctement; - talens que personne, peut être, ne possede dans un degré - plus eminent que lui. Il n’y a qu’une voix sur le succés de - l’auteur pour epurer, fixer, et enricher une langue dont son - Rambler montre si admirablement l’abondance et la force, - l’elegance et l’harmonie.’ - - “_Bibliotheque des Savans._ Tom. iii. p. 482. - - “Though I had constantly in my remembrance the encouragement - with which you flattered me in your reply to my first letter, - yet knowing that civility and politeness seem often to - countenance actions which they would not perform, I could - hardly think myself entitled to the permission you gave me - of writing to you again, had I not lately been apprised of - your intention to oblige the admirers of Shakespeare with - a new edition of his works by subscription. But, shall I - venture to tell you, notwithstanding my veneration for you - and Shakespeare, that I do not partake of the joy which the - selfish public seem to feel on this occasion?—so far from - it, I could not but be afflicted at reflecting, that so - exalted, so refined a genius as the author of the Rambler, - should submit to a task so unworthy of him as that of a mere - editor: for who would not grieve to see a Palladio, or a - Jones, undergo the dull drudgery of carrying rubbish from an - old building, when he should be tracing the model of a new - one? But I detain you too long from the main subject of this - letter, which is to beg a place in the subscription for, - - The Right Hon. the Earl of Orford, - Miss Mason, - Brigs Carey, Esq. - Archdale Wilson, Esq. - Richard Fuller, Esq. - - “And for, Sir, - - “Your most humble, and extremely devoted servant, - - “CHARLES BURNEY.” - - “_Lynn Regis_, - _28th March, 1757._” - -It was yet some years later than this last date of correspondence, -before Mr. Burney found an opportunity of paying his personal respects -to Dr. Johnson; who then, in 1760, resided in chambers at the Temple. -No account, unfortunately, remains of this first interview, except an -anecdote that relates to Mr. Bewley. - -While awaiting the appearance of his revered host, Mr. Burney -recollected a supplication from the philosopher of Massingham, to be -indulged with some token, however trifling or common, of his friend’s -admission to the habitation of this great man. Vainly, however, -Mr. Burney looked around the apartment for something that he might -innoxiously purloin. Nothing but coarse and necessary furniture was in -view; nothing portable—not even a wafer, the cover of a letter, or a -split pen, was to be caught; till, at length, he had the happiness to -espie an old hearth broom in the chimney corner. From this, with hasty -glee, he cut off a bristly wisp, which he hurried into his pocket-book; -and afterwards formally folded in silver paper, and forwarded, in a -frank, to Lord Orford, for Mr. Bewley; by whom the burlesque offering -was hailed with good-humoured acclamation, and preserved through life. - - -LYNN REGIS. - -In this manner passed on, quick though occupied, and happy though -toilsome, nine or ten years in Norfolk; when the health of Mr. Burney -being re-established, and his rising reputation demanding a wider field -for expansion, a sort of cry was raised amongst his early friends to -spur his return to the metropolis. - -Fully, however, as he felt the flattery of that cry, and ill as, in -its origin, he had been satisfied with his Lynn residence, he had now -experienced from that town and its vicinity, so much true kindness, and -cordial hospitality, that his reluctance to quit them was verging upon -renouncing such a measure; when he received the following admonition -upon the subject from his first friend, and earliest guide, Mr. Crisp. - - “TO MR. BURNEY. - - * * * - - “I have no more to say, my dear Burney, about harpsichords: - and if you remain amongst your foggy aldermen, I shall be - the more indifferent whether I have one or not. But really, - among friends, is not settling at Lynn, planting your youth, - genius, hopes, fortune, &c., against a north wall? Can you - ever expect ripe, high-flavoured fruit, from such an aspect? - Your underrate prices in the town, and galloping about the - country for higher, especially in the winter—are they worthy - of your talents? In all professions, do you not see every - thing that has the least pretence to genius, fly up to the - capital—the centre of riches, luxury, taste, pride, - extravagance,—all that ingenuity is to fatten upon? Take, then, your - spare person, your pretty mate, and your brats, to that propitious - mart, and, - - ‘Seize the glorious, golden opportunity,’ - - while yet you have youth, spirits, and vigour to give fair - play to your abilities, for placing them and yourself in a - proper point of view. And so I give you my blessing. - - “SAMUEL CRISP.” - -Mr. Crisp, almost immediately after this letter, visited, and for some -years, the continent. - -This exhortation, in common with whatever emanated from Mr. Crisp, -proved decisive; and Mr. Burney fixed at once his resolve upon -returning to the capital; though some years still passed ere he could -put it in execution. - -The following are his reflections, written at a much later period, upon -this determination. - -After enumerating, with warm regard, the many to whom he owed kindness -in the county of Norfolk, he adds: - - “All of these, for nearly thirty miles round, had their - houses and tables pressingly open to me: and, in the town - of Lynn, my wife, to all evening parties, though herself - no card player, never failed to be equally invited; for - she had a most delightful turn in conversation, seasoned - with agreeable wit, and pleasing manners; and great powers - of entering into the humours of her company; which, with - the beauty of her person, occasioned her to receive more - invitations than she wished; as she was truly domestic, had - a young family on her hands, and, generally, one of them at - her breast. But whenever we could spend an evening at home, - without disappointing our almost too kind inviters, we had a - course of reading so various and entertaining, in history, - voyages, poetry, and, as far as Chambers’ Dictionary, the - Philosophical Transactions, and the French Encyclopedia, to - the first edition of which I was a subscriber, could carry - us, in science, that those _tête à tête_ seclusions were what - we enjoyed the most completely. - - “This, of course, raised my wife far above all the females of - Lynn, who were, then, no readers, with the exception of Mrs. - Stephen Allen and Dolly Young. And this congeniality of taste - brought on an intimacy of friendship in these three females, - that lasted during their several lives. - - “My wife was the delight of all her acquaintance; excellent - mother—zealous friend—of highly superior intellects. - - “We enjoyed at Lynn tranquillity and social happiness—” - - * * * * * - - -Here again must be inserted another poetical epistle, written, during a -short separation, while still at Lynn; which shews that, with whatever -fervour of passion he married, he himself was “that other happy man,” -in the words of Lord Lyttleton, who had found “How much the wife is -dearer than the bride.” - - - “TO MRS. BURNEY. - - “To thee, henceforth, my matchless mate, - My leisure hours I’ll dedicate; - To thee my inmost thoughts transmit, - Whene’er the busy scene I quit. - For thee, companion dear! I feel - An unextinguishable zeal; - A love implanted in the mind, - From all the grosser dregs refined. - Ah! tell me, must not love like mine - Be planted by a hand divine, - Which, when creation’s work was done, - Our heart-strings tuned in unison? - If business, or domestic care - The vigour of my mind impair; - If forc’d by toil from thee to rove, - ’Till wearied limbs forget to move, - At night, reclin’d upon thy breast, - Thy converse lulls my soul to rest. - If sickness her distemper’d brood - Let loose,—to burn, or freeze my blood, - Thy tender vigilance and care, - My feeble frame can soon repair. - When in some doubtful maze I stray, - ’Tis thou point’st out the unerring way; - If judgment float on wavering wings, - In notions vague of men and things; - If different views my mind divide, - Thy nod instructs me to decide. - - My pliant soul ’tis thou can’st bend, - My help! companion! wife! and friend! - When, in the irksome day of trouble - The mental eye sees evils double, - Sweet partner of my hopes and fears! - ’Tis thou alone can’st dry my tears. - ’Tis thou alone can’st bring relief, - Partner of every joy and grief! - E’en when encompass’d with distress, - Thy smile can every ill redress. - On thee, my lovely, faithful friend, - My worldly blessings all depend: - But if a cloud thy visage low’r, } - Not all the wealth in Plutus’ power, } - Could buy my heart one peaceful hour. } - Then, lodg’d within that aching heart, - Is sorrow’s sympathetic dart. - - * * * * * - - But when upon that brow, the seat - Of sense refin’d, and beauty sweet, - The graces and the loves are seen, - And Venus sits by Wisdom’s queen; - Pale sadness takes her heavy flight, - And, envious, shuns the blissful sight. - So when the sun has long endur’d - His radiant face to be obscur’d - By baleful mists and vapours dense, - All nature mourns with grief intense: - But the refulgent God of Day - Soon shews himself in bright array; - And as his glorious visage clears, - The globe itself in smiles appears.” - - “_Lynn_, 1753.” - -The last act of Mr. Burney in relinquishing his residence in Norfolk, -was drawing up a petition to Lord Orford to allow park-room in the -Haughton grounds, for the rest of its life, to his excellent, faithful -mare, the intelligent Peggy; whose truly useful services he could not -bear to requite, according to the unfeeling usage of the many, by -selling her to hard labour in the decline of her existence. - -Lord Orford good-humouredly complied with the request; and the -justly-prized Peggy, after enjoying for several years the most perfect -ease and freedom, died the death of old age, in Haughton Park. - - -LONDON. - -In 1760 Mr. Burney, with his wife and young family, returned to -London; but no longer to the city, which has the peculiar fate, whilst -praised and reverenced by the many who to its noble encouragement owe -their first dawn of prosperity, of being almost always set aside and -relinquished, when that prosperity is effected. Is it that Fortune, -like the sun, while it rises, cold, though of fairest promise, in the -East, must ever, in its more luxuriant splendour, set in the West? - -The new establishment was in Poland-street; which was not then, as it -is now, a sort of street that, like the rest of its neighbourhood, -appears to be left in the lurch. House-fanciers were not yet as -fastidious as they are become at present, from the endless variety -of new habitations. Oxford-road, as, at that time, Oxford-street was -called, into which Poland-street terminated, had little on its further -side but fields, gardeners’ grounds, or uncultivated suburbs. Portman, -Manchester, Russel, Belgrave squares, Portland-place, &c. &c., had not -yet a single stone or brick laid, in signal of intended erection: while -in plain Poland-street, Mr. Burney, then, had successively for his -neighbours, the Duke of Chandos, Lady Augusta Bridges, the Hon. John -Smith and the Miss Barrys, Sir Willoughby and the Miss Astons; and, -well noted by Mr. Burney’s little family, on the visit of his black -majesty to England, sojourned, almost immediately opposite to it, the -Cherokee King. - -The opening of this new plan of life, was as successful to Mr. Burney -as its projection had been promising. Pupils of rank, wealth, and -talents, were continually proposed to him; and, in a very short time, -he had hardly an hour unappropriated to some fair disciple. - -Lady Tankerville, amongst the rest, resumed her lessons with her early -master, obligingly submitting her time to his convenience, be it what -it might, rather than change her first favourite instructor. Ere long, -however, she resided almost wholly abroad, having attached herself with -enthusiastic fervour to the Princess Amelia, sister to Frederick the -Great of Prussia. The Countess even accepted the place of Dame d’Atour -to that accomplished princess; whose charms, according to poetical -record, banished for a while their too daring admirer, Voltaire, from -the Court of Berlin. - -This enterprising Countess retained her spirit of whim, singularity, -and activity, through a long life; for when, many years later, she -returned to her own country, quite old, while Dr. Burney had not yet -reached the zenith of his fame, she again applied to him for musical -tuition; and when he told her, with regret, that his day was completely -filled up, from eight o’clock in the morning; “Come to me, then,” -cried she, with vivacity, “at seven!” which appointment literally, and -twice a week, took place. - -All the first friends of Mr. Burney were happy to renew with him -their social intercourse. Mrs. Greville, when in town, was foremost -in eagerly seeking his Esther; and Mr. Greville met again his early -favourite with all his original impetuosity of regard: while their -joint newer friends of Norfolk, Mrs. Stephen Allen and Miss Dorothy -Young in particular, warmly sustained an unremitting communication by -letters: and Lords Orford, Eglinton, and March, General Lord Townshend, -Charles Boone, and many others, sought this enlivening couple, with an -unabating sense of their worth, upon every occasion that either music -or conversation offered, for accepting, or desiring, admission to their -small parties: for so uncommon were the powers of pleasing which they -possessed, that all idea of condescension in their worldly superiors -seemed superseded, if not annihilated, by personal eagerness to enjoy -their rare society. - - -ESTHER. - -Thus glided away, in peace, domestic joys, improvement, and prosperity, -this first—and last! happy year of the new London residence. In the -course of the second, a cough, with alarming symptoms, menaced the -breast of the life and soul of the little circle; consisting now of six -children, clinging with equal affection around each parent chief. - -She rapidly grew weaker and worse. Her tender husband hastened her -to Bristol Hotwells, whither he followed her upon his first possible -vacation; and where, in a short time, he had the extasy to believe that -he saw her recover, and to bring her back to her fond little family. - -But though hope was brightened, expectation was deceived! stability -of strength was restored no more; and, in the ensuing autumn, she was -seized with an inflammatory disorder with which her delicate and shaken -frame had not force to combat. No means were left unessayed to stop the -progress of danger; but all were fruitless! and, after less than a week -of pain the most terrific, the deadly ease of mortification suddenly, -awfully succeeded to the most excruciating torture. - -Twelve stated hours of morbid bodily repose became, from that -tremendous moment of baleful relief, the counted boundary of her -earthly existence. - -The wretchedness of her idolizing husband at the development of -such a predestined termination to her sufferings, when pronounced -by the celebrated Dr. Hunter, was only not distraction. But she -herself, though completely aware that her hours now were told, -met the irrevocable doom with open, religious, and even cheerful -composure—sustained, no doubt, by the blessed aspirations of mediatory -salvation; and calmly declaring that she quitted the world with -perfect tranquillity, save for leaving her tender husband and helpless -children. And, in the arms of that nearly frantic husband, who, till -that fatal epoch, had literally believed her existence and his own, in -this mortal journey, to be indispensably one—she expired. - -When the fatal scene was finally closed, the disconsolate survivor -immured himself almost from light and life, through inability to speak -or act, or yet to bear witnesses to his misery. - -He was soon, however, direfully called from this concentrated anguish, -by the last awful summons to the last awful rites to human memory, -the funeral; which he attended in a frame of mind that nothing, -probably, could have rescued from unrestrained despair, save a pious -invocation to submission that had been ejaculated by his Esther, when -she perceived his rising agony, in an impressive “Oh, Charles!”—almost -at the very moment she was expiring: an appeal that could not but still -vibrate in his penetrated ears, and control his tragic passions. - -The character, and its rare, resplendent worth, of this inestimable -person, is best committed to the pen of him to whom it best was -known; as will appear by the subsequent letter, copied from his -own hand-writing. It was found amongst his posthumous papers, so -ill-written and so blotted by his tears, that he must have felt himself -obliged to re-write it for the post. - -It may be proper to again mention, that though Esther was maternally of -French extraction, and though her revered mother was a Roman Catholic, -she herself was a confirmed Protestant. But that angelic mother had -brought her up with a love and a practice of genuine piety which -undeviatingly intermingled in every action, and, probably, in every -thought of her virtuous life, so religiously, so deeply, that neither -pain nor calamity could make her impatient of existence; nor yet could -felicity the most perfect make her reluctant to die. - -To paint the despairing grief produced by this deadly blow must be -cast, like the portrait of its object, upon the sufferer; and the -inartificial pathos, the ingenuous humility, with which both are marked -in the affecting detail of her death, written in answer to a letter of -sympathizing condolence from the tenderest friend of the deceased, Miss -Dorothy Young, so strongly speak a language of virtue as well as of -sorrow, that, unconsciously, they exhibit his own fair unsophisticated -character in delineating that of his lost love. A more touching -description of happiness in conjugal life, or of wretchedness in its -dissolution, is rarely, perhaps, with equal simplicity of truth, to be -found upon record. - - “TO MISS DOROTHY YOUNG. - - “I had not thought it possible that any thing could urge me - to write in the present deplorable disposition of my mind; - but my dear Miss Young’s letter haunts me! Neither did I - think it possible for any thing to add to my affliction, - borne down and broken-hearted as I am. But the current - of your woes and sympathetic sorrows meeting mine, has - overpowered all bounds which religion, philosophy, reason, - or even despair, may have been likely to set to my grief. - Oh Miss Young! you knew her worth—you were one of the few - people capable of seeing and feeling it. Good God! that - she should be snatched from me at a time when I thought - her health re-establishing, and fixing for a long old age! - when our plans began to succeed, and we flattered ourselves - with enjoying each other’s society ere long, in a peaceable - and quiet retirement from the bustling frivolousness of a - capital, to which our niggard stars had compelled us to fly - for the prospect of establishing our children. - - “Amongst the numberless losses I sustain, there are none that - unman me so much as the total deprivation of domestic comfort - and converse—that converse from which I tore myself with - such difficulty in a morning, and to which I flew back with - such celerity at night! She was the source of all I could - ever project or perform that was praise-worthy—all that I - could do that was laudable had an eye to her approbation. - There was a rectitude in her mind and judgment, that rendered - her approbation so animating, so rational, so satisfactory! - I have lost the spur, the stimulus to all exertions, all - warrantable pursuits,—except those of another world. From an - ambitious, active, enterprising Being, I am become a torpid - drone, a listless, desponding wretch!—I know you will bear - with my weakness, nay, in part, participate in it; but this - is a kind of dotage unfit for common eyes, or even for common - friends, to be entrusted with. - - “You kindly, and truly, my dear Miss Young, styled her one - of the greatest ornaments of society; but, apart from the - ornamental, in which she shone in a superior degree, think, - oh think, of her high merit as a daughter, mother, wife, - sister, friend! I always, from the first moment I saw her - to the last, had an ardent passion for her person, to which - time had added true friendship and rational regard. Perhaps - it is honouring myself too much to say, few people were more - suited to each other; but, at least, I always endeavoured - to render myself more worthy of her than nature, perhaps, - had formed me. But she could mould me to what she pleased! A - distant hint—a remote wish from her was enough to inspire me - with courage for any undertaking. But all is lost and gone in - losing her—the whole world is a desert to me! nor does its - whole circumference afford the least hope of succour—not a - single ray of that fortitude She so fully possessed! - - “You, and all who knew her, respected and admired her - understanding while she was living. Judge, then, with what - awe and veneration I must be struck to hear her counsel when - dying!—to see her meet that tremendous spectre, death, with - that calmness, resignation, and true religious fortitude, - that no stoic philosopher, nor scarcely christian, could - surpass; for it was all in privacy and simplicity. Socrates - and Seneca called their friends around them to give them - that courage that perhaps solitude might have robbed them - of, and to spread abroad their fame to posterity; but she, - dear pattern of humility! had no such vain view; no parade, - no grimace! When she was aware that all was over—when she - had herself pronounced the dread sentence, that she felt she - should not outlive the coming night, she composedly gave - herself up to religion, and begged that she might not be - interrupted in her prayers and meditations. - - “Afterwards she called me to her, and then tranquilly talked - about our family and affairs, in a manner quite oracular. - - “Sometime later she desired to see Hetty,[21] who, till - that day, had spent the miserable week almost constantly at - her bed-side, or at the foot of the bed. Fanny, Susan, and - Charley, had been sent, some days before, to the kind care - of Mrs. Sheeles in Queen-Square, to be out of the way; and - little Charlotte was taken to the house of her nurse. - - “To poor Hetty she then discoursed in so kind, so feeling, - so tender a manner, that I am sure her words will never be - forgotten. And, this over, she talked of her own death—her - funeral—her place of burial,—with as much composure as - if talking of a journey to Lynn! Think of this, my dear - Miss Young, and see the impossibility of supporting such a - loss—such an adieu, with calmness! I hovered over her till - she sighed, not groaned, her last—placidly sighed it—just - after midnight. - - “Her disorder was an inflammation of the stomach, with which - she was seized on the 19th of September, after being on that - day, and for some days previously, remarkably in health - and spirits. She suffered the most excruciating torments - for eight days, with a patience, a resignation, nearly - quite silent. Her malady baffled all medical skill from the - beginning. I called in Dr. Hunter. - - “On the 28th, the last day! she suffered, I suppose, less, - perhaps nothing! as mortification must have taken place, - which must have afforded that sort of ease, that those who - have escaped such previous agony shudder to think of! On that - ever memorable, that dreadful day, she talked more than she - had done throughout her whole illness. She forgot nothing, - nor threw one word away! always hoping we should meet and - know each other hereafter!—She told poor Hetty how sweet - it would be if she could see her constantly from whence she - was going, and begged she would invariably suppose that that - would be the case. What a lesson to leave to a daughter!—She - exhorted her to remember how much her example might influence - the poor younger ones; and bid her write little letters, - and fancies, to her in the other world, to say how they all - went on; adding, that she felt as if she should surely know - something of them. - - “Afterwards, feeling probably her end fast approaching, she - serenely said, with one hand on the head of Hetty, and the - other grasped in mine: “Now this is dying pleasantly! in the - arms of one’s friends!” I burst into an unrestrained agony of - grief, when, with a superiority of wisdom, resignation, and - true religion,—though awaiting, consciously, from instant - to instant awaiting the shaft of death,—she mildly uttered, - in a faint, faint voice, but penetratingly tender, “Oh - Charles!—” - - “I checked myself instantaneously, over-awed and stilled as - by a voice from one above. I felt she meant to beg me not to - agitate her last moments!—I entreated her forgiveness, and - told her it was but human nature. “And so it is!” said she, - gently; and presently added, “Nay, it is worse for the living - than the dying,—though a moment sets us even!—life is but a - paltry business—yet - - “‘Who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey - This pleasing—anxious being e’er resign’d? - Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, - Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind?’” - - “She had still muscular strength left to softly press both - our hands as she pronounced these affecting lines. - - “Other fine passages, also, both from holy writ, and from - what is most religious in our best poets, she from time to - time recited, with fervent prayers; in which most devoutly we - joined. - - “These, my dear Miss Young, are the outlines of her sublime - and edifying exit—— —— —What a situation was mine! - but for my poor helpless children, how gladly, how most - gladly should I have wished to accompany her hence on the - very instant, to that other world to which she so divinely - passed!—for what in this remains for me?” - -Part of a letter, also, to Mrs. Stephen Allen, the friend to whom, next -to Miss Dorothy Young, the departed had been most attached, seems to -belong to this place. Its style, as it was written at a later period, -is more composed; but it evinces in the wretched mourner the same -devotion to his Esther’s excellences, and the same hopelessness of -earthly happiness. - - “TO MRS. STEPHEN ALLEN. - - * * * * * - “Even prosperity is insipid without participation with - those we love; for me, therefore, heaven knows, all is at - an end—all is accumulated wretchedness! I have lost a - soul congenial with my own;—a companion, who in outward - appurtenances and internal conceptions, condescended to - assimilate her ideas and manners with mine. Yet believe not - that all my feelings are for myself; my poor girls have - sustained a loss far more extensive than they, poor innocents! - are at present sensible of. Unprovided as I should have - left them with respect to fortune, had it been my fate to - resign her and life first, I should have been under no great - apprehension for the welfare of my children, in leaving them - to a mother who had such inexhaustible resources in her mind - and intellects. It would have grieved me, indeed, to have - quitted her oppressed by such a load of care; but I could - have had no doubt of her supporting it with fortitude and - abilities, as long as life and health had been allowed her. - Fortitude and abilities she possessed, indeed, to a degree - that, without hyperbole, no human being can conceive but - myself, who have seen her under such severe trials as alone - can manifest, unquestionably, true parts and greatness of - mind. I am thoroughly convinced she was fitted for any - situation, either exalted or humble, which this life can - furnish. And with all her nice discernment, quickness of - perception, and delicacy, she could submit, if occasion seemed - to require it, to such drudgery and toil as are suited to the - meanest domestic; and that, with a liveliness and alacrity - that, in general, are to be found in those only who have never - known a better state. Yet with a strength of reason the most - solid, and a capacity for literature the most intelligent, - she never for a moment relinquished the female and amiable - softness of her sex with which, above every other attribute, - men are most charmed and captivated.” - -Such, in their early effervescence, was the vent which this man of -affliction found to his sorrows, in the sympathy of his affectionate -friends. - -At other times, they were beguiled from their deadly heaviness by the -expansion of fond description in melancholy verse. To this he was less -led by poetical enthusiasm—for all of fire, fancy, and imagery, that -light up the poet’s flame, was now extinct, or smothered—than by a -gentle request of his Esther, uttered in her last days, that he would -address to her some poetry; a request intended, there can be no doubt, -as a stimulus to some endearing occupation that might tear him from -his first despondence, by an idea that he had still a wish of hers to -execute. - -Not as poetry, in an era fastidious as the present in metrical -criticism, does the editor presume to offer the verses now about to be -selected and copied from a vast mass of elegiac laments found amongst -the posthumous papers of Dr. Burney: it is biographically alone, like -those that have preceded them, that they are brought forward. They are -testimonies of the purity of his love, as well as of the acuteness of -his bereavement; and, as such, they certainly belong to his memoirs. -The reader, therefore, is again entreated to remember that they were -not designed for the press, though they were committed, unshackled, -to the discretion of the editor. If that be in fault, the motive will -probably prove a palliative that will make the heart, not the head, of -the reader, the seat of his judgment. - - “She’s gone!—the all-pervading soul is fled - T’ explore the unknown mansions of the dead, - Where, free from earthly clay, the immortal mind - Casts many a pitying glance on those behind; - Sees us deplore the wife—the mother—friend— - Sees fell despair our wretched bosoms rend! - Oh death!—thy dire inexorable dart - Of every blessing has bereft my heart! - Better to have died like her, in hope of rest, - Than live forlorn, and life and light detest.— - In hope of rest? ah no! her fervent pray’r - Was that her soul, when once dissolv’d in air - Might, conscious of its pre-existent state, - On those she lov’d alive, benignly wait,— - Our genius, and our guardian angel be - Till fate unite us in eternity! - But—the bless’d shade to me no hope bequeaths - Till death his faulchion in my bosom sheaths! - Sorrowing, I close my eyes in restless sleep; - Sorrowing, I wake the live-long day to weep. - No future comfort can this world bestow, - ’Tis blank and cold, as overwhelm’d with snow. - - * * * * * - - When dying in my arms, she softly said: - “Write me some verses!”—and shall be obey’d. - The sacred mandate vibrates in my ears, - And fills my eyes with reverential tears. - For ever on her virtues let me dwell, - A Patriarch’s life too short her worth to tell. - Such manly sense to female softness join’d, - Her person grac’d, and dignified her mind, - That she in beauty, while she trod life’s stage, - A Venus seem’d—in intellect, a sage. - Before I her beheld, the untutor’d mind - Still vacant lay, to mental beauty blind: - But when her angel form my sight had bless’d - The flame of passion instant fill’d my breast; - Through every vein the fire electric stole, - And took dominion of my inmost soul. - By her ... possess’d of every pow’r to please, - Each toilsome task was exercis’d with ease. - - * * * * * - - For me, comprising every charm of life, - Friend—Mistress—Counsellor—Companion—Wife— - Wife!—wife!—oh honour’d name! for ever dear, - Alike enchanting to the eye and ear! - Let the corrupt, licentious, and profane - Rail, scoff, and murmur at the sacred chain: - It suits not them. Few but the wise and good - Its blessings e’er have priz’d or understood. - Matur’d in virtue first the heart must glow, - Ere happiness can vegetate and grow. - From her I learnt to feel the holy flame, - And found that she and virtue were the same. - From dissipation, though I might receive— - Ere yet I knew I had a heart to give— - An evanescent joy, untouch’d the mind - Still torpid lay, to mental beauty blind; - Till by example more than precept taught - From her, to act aright, the flame I caught. - How chang’d the face of nature now is grown! - - * * * * * - - Illusive hope no more her charms displays; - Her flattering schemes no more my spirits raise; - Each airy vision which her pencil drew - Inexorable death has banish’d from my view. - Each gentle solace is withheld by fate - Till death conduct me through his awful gate. - Come then, Oh Death! let kindred souls be join’d! - Oh thou, so often cruel—once be kind!” - -A total chasm ensues of all account of events belonging to the period -of this irreparable earthly blast. Not a personal memorandum of the -unhappy survivor is left; not a single document in his hand-writing, -except of verses to her idea, or to her memory; or of imitations, -adapted to his loss, and to her excellences, from some selected sonnets -of Petrarch, whom he considered to have loved, entombed, and bewailed -another Esther in his Laura. - -When this similitude, which soothed his spirit and flattered his -feelings, had been studied and paralleled in every possible line of -comparison, he had recourse to the works of Dante, which, ere long, -beguiled from him some attention; because, through the difficulty of -idiom, he had not, as of nearly all other favourite authors, lost all -zest of the beauties of Dante in solitude, from having tasted the -sweetness of his numbers with a pleasure exalted by participation: -for, during the last two years that his Esther was spared to him, her -increased maternal claims from a new baby;[22] and augmented domestic -cares from a new residence, had checked the daily mutuality of their -progress in the pursuit of improvement; and to Esther this great poet -was scarcely known. - -To Dante, therefore, he first delivered over what he could yet summon -from his grief-worn faculties; and to initiate himself into the works, -and nearly obsolete style, of that hardest, but most sublime of Italian -poets, became the occupation to which, with the least repugnance, he -was capable of recurring. - -A sedulous, yet energetic, though prose translation of the Inferno, -remains amongst his posthumous relics, to demonstrate the sincere -struggles with which, even amidst this overwhelming calamity, he strove -to combat that most dangerously consuming of all canker-worms upon life -and virtue, utter inertness. - -Of his children, James,[23] his eldest son, had already, at ten years -of age, been sent to sea, a nominal midshipman, in the ship of Admiral -Montagu. - -The second son, Charles,[24] who was placed, several years later, in -the Charterhouse, by Mr. Burney’s first and constant patron, the Earl -of Holdernesse, was then but a child. - -The eldest daughter was still a little girl; and the last born of her -three sisters could scarcely walk alone. But all, save the seaman, who -was then aboard his ship, were now called back to the paternal roof of -the unhappy father. - -None of them, however, were of an age to be companionable; his fondness -for them, therefore, full of care and trouble, procured no mitigation -to his grief by the pleasure of society: and the heavy march of time, -where no solace is accepted from abroad, or attainable at home, gave -a species of stagnation to his existence, that made him take, in the -words of Young, - - “No note of time, - Save by its loss!” - -His tenderness, however, as a father; his situation as a man; and his -duties as a Christian, drew, tore him, at length, from this retreat -of lonely woe; and, in the manuscript already quoted from, which was -written many years after the period of which it speaks, he says: “I was -forced, ere long, to plunge into business; and then found, that having -my time occupied by my affairs was a useful dissipation of my sorrows, -as it compelled me to a temporary inattention to myself, and to the -irreparable loss I had sustained.” - -Still, however, all mitigation to his grief that was not imposed upon -him by necessity, he avoided even with aversion; and even the sight of -those who most had loved and esteemed the departed, was the sight most -painful to him in sharpening his regrets, “which, therefore, no meeting -whatsoever,” he says, “could blunt; since to love and admire her, had -been universally the consequence of seeing and knowing her.” - -From this mournful monotony of life, he was especially, however, -called, by reflecting that his eldest daughter was fast advancing to -that age when education is most requisite to improvement; and that, -at such a period, the loss of her mother and instructress might be -permanently hurtful to her, if no measure should be taken to avert the -possible consequences of neglect. - -Yet the idea of a governess, who, to him, unless his children were -wholly confined to the nursery, must indispensably be a species of -companion, was not, in his present desolate state of mind, even -tolerable. Nevertheless masters without superintendence, and lessons -without practice, he well knew to be nugatory. Projects how to remedy -this evil, as fruitless as they were numberless, crossed his mind; till -a plan occurred to him, that, by combining economy with novelty, and -change of scene for himself, with various modes of advantage to his -daughters, ripened into an exertion that brought him, about a month -after its formation, to the gates of Paris. - -The design of Mr. Burney was to place two of his daughters in some -convent, or boarding-house, where their education might be forwarded by -his own directions. - -Sundry reasons decided him to make his third daughter, Susanna, take -place, in this expedition, of his second, Frances; but, amongst them, -the principal and most serious motive, was a fearful tendency to a -consumptive habit in that most delicate of his young plants, that -seemed to require the balsamic qualities of a warmer and clearer -atmosphere. - -Another reason, which he acknowledged, in after-times, to have had -great weight with him for this arrangement, was the tender veneration -with which Frances was impressed for her maternal grandmother; whose -angelic piety, and captivating softness, had won her young heart with -such reverential affection, that he apprehended there might be danger -of her being led to follow, even enthusiastically, the religion of so -pure a votary, if she should fall so early, within the influence of any -zealot in the work of conversion. He determined, therefore, as he could -part with two of them only at a time, that Fanny and Charlotte should -follow their sisters in succession, at a later period. - - -PARIS. - -Immediately upon his arrival at Paris, Mr. Burney, by singular good -fortune, had the honour to be introduced to Lady Clifford, a Roman -Catholic dowager, of a character the most benevolent, who resided -entirely in France, for the pious purpose of enjoying with facility the -rites of her religion, which could not, at that period, be followed in -England without peril of persecution. - -This lady took the children of Mr. Burney into her kindest favour, and -invited their father to consult with her unreservedly upon his projects -and wishes; and, through such honourable auspices, scarcely ten days -elapsed, ere Esther and Susan were placed under the care of Madame St. -Mart, a woman of perfect goodness of heart, and of a disposition the -most affectionate. - -Madame St. Mart was accustomed to the charge of _des jeunes Anglaises_, -two daughters of Sir Willoughby Aston, Selina and Belinda, being then -under her roof. - -Highly satisfied with this arrangement, Mr. Burney now visited the -delightful capital of France; made himself acquainted with its -antiquities, curiosities, public buildings, public places, general -laws, and peculiar customs; its politics, its resources, its -festivities, its arts and its artists; as well as with the arbitrary -tyrannies, and degrading oppressions towards the lower classes, -which, at that epoch, were, to an English looker-on, incomprehensibly -combined, not with murmurs nor discontent, but with the most lively -animal spirits, and the freshest glee of national gaiety. - -But his chosen haunts were the Public Libraries, to which an easiness -of access, at that time deplorably unknown in England, encouraged, nay, -excited, the intelligent visitor, who might be mentally inclined to any -literary project, to hit upon some subject congenial to his taste; by -rousing in him that spirit of emulation, which ultimately animates the -humbly instructed, to soar to the heights that distinguish the luminous -instructor. - -Collections of books, even the most multitudinous and the most rare, -may hold, to the common runner through life, but an ordinary niche in -places of general resort; nevertheless, the Public Libraries, those -Patrons of the Mind, must always be entered with a glow of grateful -pleasure, by those who, instinctively, meditate upon the vast mass of -thought that they contain. - -To wander amidst those stores, that commit talents to posterity as -indubitably as the Herald’s Register transmits names and titles; -to develop as accurately the systems of nations, the conditions of -communities, the progress of knowledge, and the turn of men’s minds, -two or three thousand years ago, as in this our living minute; to -visit, in fact, the Brains of our fellow-creatures,—not alone with -the harrowing knife to dissect physical conformation, but, with -the piercing eye of penetration to dive into the recesses of human -intelligence, the sources of imagination, and the springs of genius; -and there, in those sacred receptacles of mental remains, to survey, -in clear, indestructible evidence, all of the soul that man is able to -bequeath to man— — - -Views such as these of the powers of his gifted, though gone -fellow-creatures, seen thus abstractedly through their intellectual -attributes; purified equally from the frailties and selfishness of -active life, and the sickly humours and baleful infirmities of age; -seen through the medium of learned, useful, or fanciful productions; -and beheld in so insulated a moment of vacuity of any positive plan -of life, instinctively roused the dormant faculties of the subject of -these memoirs, by setting before him a comprehensive chart of human -capabilities, which involuntarily incited a conscious inquiry: what, -peradventure, might be his own share, if sought for, in such heavenly -gifts? - -And it was now that, vaguely, yet powerfully, he first fell into -that stream of ideas, or visions, that seemed to hail him to that -class indefinable and indescribable, from its mingled elevation and -abjectness, which, by joining the publicity of the press to the -secret intercourse of the mind with the pen, insensibly allures its -adventurous votaries to make the world at large the judge of their -abilities, or their deficiencies—namely, the class of authors. - -For this was the real, though not yet the ostensible epoch, whence may -be traced the opening of his passion for literary pursuits. - -And from this period, to the very close of his long mortal career, -this late, though newly chosen occupation, became all that was most -consoling to his sorrows, most diversifying to his ideas, and most -animating to his faculties. - -Some new stimulus had been eminently wanting to draw a man of his -natively ardent and aspiring character from the torpid blight of -availless misery; which, in despoiling him of all bosom felicity, had -left only to an attempt at some untried project and purpose, any chance -for the restoration of his energies. - -He did not immediately fix on a subject for any work, though he had -the wisdom, at once, and the modesty, to resolve, since so tardily he -entered such lists, to adopt no plan that might wean him from his -profession—for his profession was his whole estate! but rather to seek -one that might amalgamate his rising desire of fame in literature, with -his original labours to be distinguished as a follower of Orpheus. - -He took notes innumerable in the public libraries, which he meant -to revisit on returning to Paris for his daughters, of the books, -subjects, passages, and authors which invited re-perusal; and which, -hereafter, might happily conduct to some curious investigation, or -elucidating commentary. - -He made himself master of a beautiful collection of what then was -esteemed to be most select of the French classics. - -He completed, by adding to what already he possessed, all that recently -had been published of that noblest work that had yet appeared in the -republic of letters, the original Encyclopedia. - -He opened an account with the reigning bookseller of the day, whose -reputation in his mind-enlightening business still sustains its renown, -M. Guy, whom he commissioned to send over to England the principal -works then suspending over the heights of the French Parnassus; where -resplendently were grouped all that was most attractive in Wit, -Poetry, Eloquence, Science, Pathos, and Entertainment; from Rousseau, -Voltaire, d’Alembert, Marmontel, Destouches, Marivaux, Gilbert, -Diderot, Fontenelle, de Jaucourt; and many others. - -It will easily be conceived how wistfully Mr. Burney must have coveted -to make acquaintance with this brilliant set; his high veneration for -genius having always led him to consider the first sight of an eminent -author to form a data in his life. - -But he had neither leisure, nor recommendatory letters; nor, perhaps, -courage for such an attempt; the diffidence of his nature by no means -anticipating the honourable place he himself was destined to hold in -similar circles. - -Not small, however, was his solace, while missing every ray of living -light from this foreign constellation, when he found himself shone upon -by a fixed star of the first magnitude belonging to his own system; -for at the house of the English ambassador, the Earl of Hertford, he -became acquainted with the celebrated secretary of his lordship, the -justly admired, and justly censured DAVID HUME; who, with the skilful -discernment that waited neither name nor fame for its stimulus, took -Mr. Burney immediately and warmly into his favour. - -Had this powerful and popular author, in his erudite, spirited, and -intellectual researches and reflections, given to mankind his luminous -talents, and his moral philosophy, for fair, open, and useful purposes, -suited to the high character which he bore, not alone for genius, but -for worth and benevolence; instead of bending, blending, involving -them with missive weapons of baneful sarcasm, insidiously at work to -undermine our form of faith; he would have been hailed universally, not -applauded partially, as, in every point, one of the first of British -writers. - -To the world no man is accountable for his thoughts and his -ruminations; but for their propagation, if they are dangerous or -mischievous, the risks which he may allure others to share, seem -impelled by wanton lack of feeling; if not by an ignorant yet -presumptuous dearth of foresight to the effect he is working to -produce: two deficiencies equally impossible to be attributed to a man -to whom philanthropy is as unequivocally accorded as philosophy. - -Unsolved therefore, perhaps, yet remains, as a problem in the history -of human nature, how a being, at once wise and benign, could have -refrained from the self-examination of demanding: what—had he been -successful in exterminating from the eyes and the hearts of men the -lecture and the doctrines of the Holy Scriptures, would have been -achieved? Had he any other more perfect religion to offer? More -purifying from evil? more fortifying in misfortune? more consoling in -woe?—No!—indubitably no!—Nothing fanatical, or mystic, could cope -with judgment such as his. To undermine, not to construct, is all the -obvious purpose of his efforts—of which he laments the failure as -a calamity![25] He leaves, therefore, nothing to conjecture of his -motives but what least seems to belong to a character of his sedate -equanimity; a personal desire to proclaim to mankind their folly in -their belief, and his sagacity in his infidelity. - - -LONDON. - -Mr. Burney now, greatly lightened, and somewhat brightened in spirits, -returned to his country and his home. His mind seemed no longer -left in desolating inertness to prey upon itself. Nutriment of an -invigorating nature was in view, though not yet of a consistence to -afford spontaneous refreshment. On the contrary, it required taste -for selection, labour for culture, and skill for appropriation. But -such nutriment, if attainable, was precisely that which best could -re-inforce the poor “tenement of clay,”[26] which the lassitude of -unbraced nerves had nearly “fretted to decay.” - -Sketches, hints, notes, and scattered ideas of all sorts, began to -open the way to some original composition; though the timidity of his -Muse, not the dearth of his fancy, long kept back the force of mind for -meeting the public eye, that now, in these more easy, dauntless times, -urges almost every stripling to present his mental powers to the world, -nearly ere his physical ones have emerged from leading-strings in the -nursery. - -The first, because the least responsible, method of facing the critic -eye, that occurred to him, was that of translation; and he began -with acutely studying d’Alembert’s _Elémens de Musique théorique et -pratique, selon les principes de Rameau_; in which he was assiduously -engaged, when the appearance of the celebrated musical _Dictionaire_ of -the still more celebrated Rousseau, from its far nearer congeniality -to his taste, surprised him into inconstancy. - -Yet this also, from circumstances that intervened, was laid aside; and -his first actual essay was a trifle, though a pleasing one, from which -no real fame could either accrue, or be marred; it was translating, and -adapting to the stage, the little pastoral afterpiece of Rousseau, _Le -Devin du Village_. - - -GARRICK. - -To this he was urged by Garrick; and the execution was appropriate, -and full of merit. But though the music, from its simplicity and the -sweetness of its melody, was peculiarly fitted to refine the public -taste amongst the middle classes; while it could not fail to give -passing pleasure even to the highest; the drama was too denuded of -intricacy or variety for the amusement of John Bull; and the appearance -of only three interlocuters caused a gaping expectation of some -followers, that made every new scene begin by inflicting disappointment. - -Mr. Garrick, and his accomplished, high-bred, and engaging wife, La -Violetta, had been amongst the earliest of the pristine connexions of -Mr. Burney, who had sought him, with compassionate kindness, as soon -after his heart-breaking loss as he could admit any friends to his -sight. The ensuing paragraph on his warm sentiments of this talented -and bewitching pair, is copied from one of his manuscript memorandums. - - “My acquaintance, at this time, with Mrs. as well as Mr. - Garrick, was improved into a real friendship; and frequently, - on the Saturday night, when Mr. Garrick did not act, he - carried me to his villa at Hampton, whence he brought me to - my home early on Monday morning. I seldom was more happy - than in these visits. His wit, humour, and constant gaiety - at home; and Mrs. Garrick’s good sense, good breeding, and - obliging desire to please, rendered their Hampton villa, on - these occasions, a terrestrial paradise. - - “Mrs. Garrick had every faculty of social judgment, good - taste, and steadiness of character, which he wanted. She was - an excellent appreciator of the fine arts; and attended all - the last rehearsals of new or of revived plays, to give her - opinion of effects, dresses, scenery, and machinery. She - seemed to be his real other half; and he, by his intelligence - and accomplishments, seemed to complete the Hydroggynus.” - -This eminent couple paid their court to Mr. Burney in the manner that -was most sure to be successful, namely, by their endearing and good -natured attentions to his young family; frequently giving them, with -some chaperon of their father’s appointing, the lightsome pleasure of -possessing Mrs. Garrick’s private box at Drury Lane Theatre; and that, -from time to time, even when the incomparable Roscius acted himself; -which so enchanted their gratitude, that they nearly—as Mr. Burney -laughingly quoted to Garrick from Hudibras— - - “Did,—as was their duty, - Worship the shadow of his shoe-tie.” - -Garrick, who was passionately fond of children, never withheld his -visits from Poland-street on account of the absence of the master -of the house; for though it was the master he came to seek, he -was too susceptible to his own lively gift of bestowing pleasure, -to resist witnessing the ecstacy he was sure to excite, when he -burst in unexpectedly upon the younger branches: for so playfully -he individualised his attentions, by an endless variety of comic -badinage,—now exhibited in lofty bombast; now in ludicrous -obsequiousness; now by a sarcasm skilfully implying a compliment; now -by a compliment archly conveying a sarcasm; that every happy day that -gave them but a glimpse of this idol of their juvenile fancy, was -exhilarated to its close by reciprocating anecdotes of the look, the -smile, the bow, the shrug, the start, that, after his departure, each -enraptured admirer could describe. - -A circumstance of no small weight at that time, contributed to allure -Mr. Garrick to granting these joyous scenes to the young Burney tribe. -When he made the tour of Italy, for the recovery of his health, and the -refreshment of his popularity, he committed to the care of Mr. Burney -and his young family his own and Mrs. Garrick’s favourite little dog, -Phill, a beautiful black and white spaniel, of King Charles’s breed, -luxuriant in tail and mane, with the whitest breast, and spotted with -perfect symmetry. - -The fondness of Mr. Garrick for this little spaniel was so great, that -one of his first visits on his return from the continent was to see, -caress, and reclaim him. Phill was necessarily resigned, though with -the most dismal reluctance, by his new friends: but if parting with -the favoured little quadruped was a disaster, how was that annoyance -overpaid, when, two or three days afterwards, Phill re-appeared! and -when the pleasure of his welcome to the young folks was increased by a -message, that the little animal had seemed so moping, so unsettled, -and so forlorn, that Mr. and Mrs. Garrick had not the heart to break -his new engagements, and requested his entire acceptance and adoption -in Poland-street. - -During the life of this favourite, all the juvenile group were sought -and visited together, by the gay-hearted Roscius; and with as much glee -as he himself was received by these happy young creatures, whether -two-footed or four. - -On the first coming-out of the “Cunning Man,” Mr. Garrick, who -undoubtedly owed his unequalled varieties in delineating every species -of comic character, to an inquisitive observance of Nature in all her -workings, amused himself in watching from the orchestra, where he -frequently sat on the first night of new pieces, the young auditory -in Mrs. Garrick’s box; and he imitatingly described to Mr. Burney the -innocent confidence of success with which they all openly bent forward, -to look exultingly at the audience, when a loud clapping followed -the overture: and their smiles, or nods: or chuckling and laughter, -according to their more or less advanced years, during the unmingled -approbation that was bestowed upon about half the piece—contrasted -with, first the amazement; next, the indignation; and, lastly, the -affright and disappointment, that were brought forth by the beginning -buzz of hissing, and followed by the shrill horrors of the catcall: and -then the return—joyous, but no longer dauntless!—of hope, when again -the applause prevailed. - -In these various changes, Mr. Garrick altered the expression of -his features, and almost his features themselves, by apparent -transformations—which, however less poetical, were at least more -natural than those of Ovid. - -Mr. Garrick possessed not only every possible inflexion of voice, save -for singing, but also of countenance; varying his looks into young, -old, sick, vigorous, downcast, or frolicsome, at his personal volition; -as if his face, and even his form, had been put into his own hands to -be worked upon like Man a Machine. - -Mr. Garrick, about this time, warmly urged the subject of these memoirs -to set to music an English opera called Orpheus; but while, for that -purpose, Mr. Burney was examining the drama, he was informed that it -had been put into the hands of Mr. Barthelemon, who was preparing it -for the stage. - -Astonished, and very much hurt, Mr. Burney hastily returned the copy -with which he had been entrusted, to Mr. Johnstone, the prompter; -dryly, and without letter or comment, directing him to deliver it to -Mr. Garrick. - -Mr. Garrick, with the utmost animation, instantly wrote to Johnstone -an apology rather than a justification; desiring that the opera should -be withdrawn from Mr. Barthelemon, and consigned wholly to the subject -of these memoirs; for whom Mr. Garrick declared himself to entertain a -friendship that nothing should dissolve.[27] - -But Mr. Burney, conceiving that Barthelemon, who had offended no one, -and who bore a most amiable character, might justly resent so abrupt a -discharge, declined setting the opera: and never afterwards composed -for the theatres. - -This trait, however trifling, cannot but be considered as biographical, -at least for Mr. Garrick; as it so strongly authenticates the veracity -of the two principal lines of the epitaph designed for Roscius, many -years afterwards, by that acute observer of every character—save his -own!—Dr. Goldsmith. - - “He cast off his friends as a huntsman his pack, - For he knew, when he would, he could whistle them back.” - -Whether negligence, mistake, or caprice, had occasioned this double -nomination to the same office, is not clear; but Garrick, who loved Mr. -Burney with real affection, lost no time, and spared no blandishment, -to re-instate himself in the confidence which this untoward accident -had somewhat shaken. And he had full success, to the great satisfaction -of Mr. Burney, and joy of his family; who all rapturously delighted in -the talents and society of the immortal Roscius. - - -MR. CRISP. - -While this revival of intercourse with the Garricks, and partial -return to public life and affairs, necessarily banished the outward -and obvious marks of the change of existence, and lost happiness of -Mr. Burney, they operated also, gently, but effectively, in gradually -diminishing his sufferings, by forcing him from their contemplation: -for in that dilapidated state of sorrow’s absorption, where the mind -is wholly abandoned to its secret sensations, all that innately recurs -to it can spring only from its own concentrated sources; and these, -though they may vary the evil by palliatives, offer nothing curative. -New scenes and objects alone can open to new ideas; and, happily, a -circumstance now occurred that brought on a revival of intercourse with -the only man who, at that time, could recall the mourner’s faculties to -genial feelings, and expand them to confidential sociality. - -His earliest favourite, guide, philosopher, and friend, Mr. Crisp, he -now, after a separation of very many years, accidentally met at the -house of Mr. Vincent, a mutual acquaintance. - -Their satisfaction at the sight of each other was truly reciprocal; -though that of Mr. Burney was tinctured with dejection, that he could -no longer present to his dearest friend the partner whom, by such -a judge, he had felt would have been instantly and reverentially -appreciated. - -Mr. Crisp joined in this regret; but was not the less desirous to see -and to know all that remained of her; and he hastened the following -day to Poland-street; where, from his very first entrance amidst the -juvenile group, he became instinctively honoured as a counsellor for -his wisdom and judgment, and loved and liked as a companion for his -gaiety, his good-humour, and his delight in their rising affections; -which led him unremittingly, though never obtrusively, to mingle -instruction with their most sportive intercourse. - -As Mr. Crisp was the earliest and dearest friend of the subject of -these memoirs, the reader will not, it is probable, be sorry to be -apprised of the circumstances which, since their separation, had turned -him from a brilliant man of the world to a decided recluse. - -The life of Mr. Crisp had been exposed to much vicissitude. Part -of it had been spent in Italy, particularly at Rome, where he took -up his residence for some years; and where, from his passion for -music, painting, and sculpture, he amassed, for the rest of his -existence, recollections of never-dying pleasure. And not alone for -his solitary contemplations, but for the delight that the vivacity of -his delineations imparted to his friends, when he could be induced to -unfold his reminiscences; whether upon the sacred and soul-pervading -harmony of the music of the Pope’s chapel; or upon the tones, -mellifluously melting or elevating, of Sinesino, Custini, or Farinelli: -or by bringing to view through glowing images, the seraphic forms and -expressions of Raphael and Correggio; and the sculptural sublimity -of Michael Angelo. Or when, animated to the climax of his homage for -the fine arts, he flitted by all else to concentrate the whole force -of his energies, in describing that electrifying wonder, the Apollo -Belvedere. - -On this he dwelt with a vivacity of language that made his hearers wish -to fasten upon every word that he uttered; so vividly he portrayed the -commanding port, the chaste symmetry, and the magic form—for which not -a tint was requisite, and colouring would have been superfluous—of -that unrivalled production, of which the peerless grace, looking -softer, though of marble, than the feathered snow; and brightly -radiant, though, like the sun, simply white, strike upon the mind -rather than the eye, as an ideal representative of ethereal beauty.[28] - -And while such were his favourite topics for his gifted participators, -there was a charm for all around in his more general conversation, that -illumined with instruction, or gladdened with entertainment, even the -most current and desultory subjects of the passing hour. - -Thus rarely at once endowed and cultivated, there can be little -surprise that Mr. Crisp should be distinguished, speedily and forcibly, -by what is denominated the Great World; where his striking talents, -embellished by his noble countenance and elegant manners, made him so -much the mode with the great, and the chosen with the difficult, that -time, not friends, was all he wanted for social enjoyment. - -High, perhaps highest in this noble class, stood Margaret Cavendish -Harley, Duchess Dowager of Portland, _The Friend of Mrs. Delany_; by -whom that venerable and exemplary personage, who was styled by Mr. -Burke, “The pattern of a real fine lady of times that were past,” had -been herself made known to Mr. Crisp. - -Mrs. Montagu, also, who then, Mr. Crisp was wont to say, was peering -at fame, and gradually rising to its temple, was of the same coterie. -But most familiarly he resided with Christopher Hamilton of Chesington -Hall, and with the Earl of Coventry. - -With this last he was intimately connected, at the time of that Earl’s -marriage with the acknowledged nonpareil of female beauty, the youngest -Miss Gunning. - -Mr. Crisp had already written his tragedy of Virginia; but Garrick, -though he was the author’s personal friend, thought it so little equal -to the expectations that might await it, that he postponed, season -after season, bringing it out; even though Lord Coventry, who admired -it with the warmth of partial regard, engaged the first Mr. Pitt[29] -to read it, and to pronounce in its favour. Roscius still was adverse, -and still delayed the trial; nor could he be prevailed upon to prepare -it for the stage, till Mr. Crisp had won that Venus of her day, the -exquisite Lady Coventry, through his influence with her lord, to -present a copy of the manuscript, with her own almost sculptured hand, -to the then conquered manager. - -The play neither succeeded nor failed. A catastrophe of so yea and nay -a character was ill suited to the energies and hopes of its high-minded -author, who was bitterly disappointed; and thought the performers had -been negligent, Mr. Garrick unfriendly, and the public precipitate. - -The zealous Lord Coventry, himself a man of letters, advised sundry -changes, and a new trial. Mr. Crisp shut himself up, and worked -indefatigably at these suggestions: but when his alterations were -finished, there was no longer a radiant Countess of Coventry to bewitch -Mr. Garrick, by “the soft serenity of her smile,” to make a further -attempt. Lady Coventry, whose brief, dazzling race, was rapidly -run, was now already fast fading in the grasping arms of withering -consumption: and Mr. Garrick, though, from unwillingness to disoblige, -he seemed wavering, was not the less inexorable. - -Mr. Crisp then, disgusted with the stage, the manager, and the -theatrical public, gave up not alone that point, but every other by -which he might have emerged from private life to celebrity. He almost -wholly retired from London, and resided at Hampton; where he fitted -up a small house with paintings, prints, sculpture, and musical -instruments, arranged with the most classical elegance. - -But the vicinity of the metropolis caused allurements such as these, -with such a chief to bring them into play, to accord but ill with the -small, though unincumbered fortune of their master; and the grace with -which, instinctively, he received his visitors, made his habitation so -pleasant, as soon to produce a call upon his income that shattered its -stability. - -His alarm now was such as might be expected from his sense of honour, -and his love of independence. Yet the delicacy of his pride forbade any -complaint to his friends, that might seem to implicate their discretion -in his distress, or to invite their aid; though his desire to smooth, -without publishing, his difficulties, urged him to commune with those -of his connexions who were in actual power, and to confess his wishes -for some honourable place, or occupation, that might draw forth his -faculties to the amelioration of his fortune. - -Kind words, and enlivening promises, now raised his hopes to a -favourable change in his affairs; and, brightly looking forward, he -continued to welcome his friends; who, enchanted by his society, poured -in upon him with a thoughtless frequency, which caused an increase of -expenditure that startled him, ere long, with a prospect, sudden and -frightful, of the road to ruin. - -Shocked, wounded, dismayed, he perceived two ways only by which -he could be extricated from the labyrinth into which he had been -betrayed by premature expectation; either vigorously to urge his suit -for some appointment, and persecute, pester his friends to quicken -his advancement; or cut off approaching worldly destruction by an -immediate sacrifice of worldly luxury. - -A severe fit of the gout, that now, for the first time—hastened, -probably, by chagrin—assailed him, decided his resolution. He sold his -house at Hampton, his books, prints, pictures, and instruments; with -a fixed determination of relinquishing the world, and retiring from -mankind. - -Within a few miles of Hampton stood Chesington Hall, his chosen -retreat; and thither, with what little of his property he had rescued -from the auctioneer and the appraiser, he transplanted his person; and -there buried every temporal prospect. - -Chesington Hall was placed upon a considerable, though not rapid -eminence, whence two tall, antique trees, growing upon an old rustic -structure called The Mount, were discernible at sixteen miles distance. -The Hall had been built upon a large, lone, and nearly desolate common; -and no regular road, or even track to the mansion from Epsom, the -nearest town, had, for many years, been spared from its encircling -ploughed fields, or fallow ground. - -This old mansion had fallen into the hands of the Hamiltons from those -of the Hattons, by whom its erection had been begun in the same year -upon which Cardinal Wolsey had commenced raising, in its vicinity, the -magnificent palace of Hampton Court. - -Every thing around Chesington Hall was now falling to decay; and its -hereditary owner, Christopher Hamilton, the last male of his immediate -branch of the Hamilton family, was, at this time, utterly ruined, and -sinking in person as well as property in the general desolation. - -This was precisely a sojourn to meet the secluding desire of Mr. -Crisp; he adopted some pic-nic plan with Mr. Hamilton; and Chesington -Hall became his decided residence; it might almost be said, his -fugitive sanctuary. He acquainted no one with his intentions, and -communicated to no one his place of abode. Firm to resist the kindness, -he determined to escape the tediousness, of persuasion: and, however -often, in after-life, when renovated health gave him a consciousness -of renovated faculties, he might have regretted this intellectual -interment, he was immoveable never more to emerge from a tranquillity, -which now, to his sickened mind, made the pursuits of ambition seem as -oppressively troublesome in their manoeuvres, as they were morbidly -bitter in their disappointments. - -His fondness, however, for the arts, was less subordinate to the -casualties of life than his love of the world. It was too much an -integral part of his composition to be annihilated in the same gulph in -which were sunk his mundane expectations. Regularly, therefore, every -spring, he came up to the metropolis, where, in keeping pace with the -times, he enjoyed every modern improvement in music and painting. - -Rarely can a re-union of early associates have dispensed brighter -felicity with more solid advantages, than were produced by the -accidental re-meeting of these long separated friends. To Mr. Burney -it brought back a congeniality of feeling and intelligence, that -re-invigorated his social virtues; and to Mr. Crisp it gave not only a -friend, but a family. - -It operated, however, no further. To Mr. Burney alone was confided the -clue for a safe route across the wild common to Chesington Hall; from -all others it was steadfastly withheld; and from Mr. Greville it was -studiously and peculiarly concealed. - -That gentleman now was greatly altered, from the large and larger -strides which he had made, and was making, into the dangerous purlieus -of horse-racing and of play; into whose precincts, from the delusive -difference of their surface from their foundation, no incursions can be -hazarded without as perilous a shake to character and disposition, as -to fortune and conduct. And Mr. Greville, who, always honourable, was -almost necessarily a frequent loser, was evidently on the high road to -turn from a man of pleasure to a man of spleen; venting his wrath at -his failures upon the turf and at the clubs, by growing fastidious and -cavilling in general society. Mr. Crisp, therefore, bent to maintain -the dear bought quiet of his worldly sacrifices as unmingled with -the turbulent agitations of querulous debate, as with the restless -solicitudes of active life, shunned the now pertinacious disputant -almost with dread. - -Yet Mr. Greville, about this period, was rescued, for a while, from -this hovering deterioration, through the exertions of his friends -in the government, by whom he was named minister plenipotentiary to -the court of Bavaria; in the hope that such an appointment, with its -probable consequences, might re-establish his affairs. - -No change, however, of situation, caused any change in Mr. Greville to -his early _protegé_ and attached and attaching friend, Mr. Burney, to -whom he still shewed himself equally eager to communicate his opinions, -and reveal his proceedings. A letter from Munich, written when his -Excellency was first installed in his new dignity, will display the -pleasant openness of their correspondence; at the same time that it -depicts the humours and expenses of the official ceremonials then in -use, with a frankness that makes them both curious and entertaining.[30] - - * * * * * - -A letter to the Earl of Eglinton from the celebrated David Hume, -written also about this time, gave Mr. Burney very peculiar -satisfaction, from the sincere disposition to esteem and to serve him, -which it manifested in that dangerously renowned philosopher; whose -judgment of men was as skilfully inviting, as his sophistry in theology -was fearfully repelling. - -Yet upon the circumstances of this letter hung a cutting -disappointment, which, in the midst of his rising prospects, severely -pierced the hopes of Mr. Burney; and, from the sharpness of its injury, -and its future aggravating repetitions, would permanently have -festered them, had their composition been of less elastic quality. - -To be Master of the King’s Band, as the highest professional honour to -be obtained, had been the earliest aim of Mr. Burney; and, through the -medium of warm friends, joined to his now well approved and obvious -merit, the promise of the then Lord Chamberlain had been procured -for the first vacancy. This arrived in 1765; but when the consequent -claim was made, how great, how confounding to Mr. Burney was the -intelligence, that the place was disposed of already. - -He hastened with a relation of this grievance, as unexpected as it was -undeserved, to the celebrated historian, to whom his rights had been -well known at Paris. And Mr. Hume, whose sense of justice—one fatal -warp excepted—was as luminous as it was profound, shocked by such -a breach of its simplest and most unchangeable statutes, instantly -undertook, with the courage imbibed by his great abilities and high -moral character, to make a representation on the subject to Lord -Hertford. - -Failing, however, of meeting with an immediate opportunity, and -well aware of the importance of expedition in such applications, he -addressed himself to the Countess; and from her he learnt, and with -expressions of benevolent concern, that it was the Duke of York[31] who -had demanded the nomination to the place. - -It now occurred to Mr. Hume that the present applicant might possibly -be himself the object for whom his Royal Highness had interfered, as -Mr. Burney had frequently been seen, and treated with marked kindness, -by the Royal Duke at private concerts; which were then often, at the -sudden request of that prince, formed by the Earl of Eglinton; and at -which Mr. Burney, when in London, was always a principal and favoured -assistant. With this in his recollection, and naturally concluding Lord -Eglinton, who always shewed an animated partiality for Mr. Burney, to -be chief in the application to the Lord Chamberlain, Mr. Hume wrote the -following letter. - - TO THE EARL OF EGLINTON. - - “MY LORD, - - “Not finding an opportunity of speaking yesterday to Lord - Hertford, in favour of Mr. Burney, I spoke to my lady, and - told her the whole case. She already knows Mr. Burney, and - has an esteem for him. She said it gave her great uneasiness, - and was sure it would do so to my lord, that he was already - engaged, and, she believed, to the Duke of York. - - “It occurred to me, that his Royal Highness’s application - might, also, be in favour of Mr. Burney; in which case the - matter is easy. If not, it is probable your Lordship may - engage his Royal Highness to depart from his application; for - really Mr. Burney’s case, independently of his merit, is very - hard and cruel. - - “I have the honour to be, - - “My Lord, your Lordship’s - - “Most humble and most obedient servant, - - “DAVID HUME.” - - “P. S. If your Lordship honour me with an answer in the - forenoon, please send it to General Conway’s, in Little Warwick - Street; if in the afternoon, at Miss Elliot’s, Brewer Street, - Golden Square.” - -A reclamation such as this, from a man who was then almost universally -held to be at the head of British literature, could not be read -unmoved; and an opinion so positive of the justice and merits of the -case, manifested by two directions for an immediate reply, both given -for the same day, and without any apology for such precipitancy, shewed -a warmth of personal zeal and interest for the welfare of Mr. Burney, -that was equally refreshing to his spirits, and stimulating to his -hopes. - -The place, however, was decidedly gone. The first word from the Duke -had fixed its fate; though, from the real amenity of the character of -the prince, joined to the previous favour he had shewn to Mr. Burney, -there cannot be a doubt that, had the history of the affair reached the -ear of his Royal Highness, he would have been foremost himself, as Mr. -Hume suggested, to have nominated Mr. Burney. - -Here the matter dropped; and the expressed regret and civilities of -the Countess, with the implied ones of the Earl, somewhat softened the -infliction: but the active services, and manly appeal of David Hume, -conduced far more to awaken and to fortify the philosophy that so -unexpected a mortification required. - - * * * * * - -In mingling again with the world upon its common terms of cultivating -what was good, and supporting what was evil, Mr. Burney now, no -longer bewitched by beauty, nor absorbed by social sympathies, found -literature and its pursuits without rival in his estimation; yet, -in missing those vanished delights, he deemed that he had the world -to re-begin: for though prosperity met his professional toils with -heightened reputation and reward, they were joyless, however essential, -since participation was gone! - -The time had arrived, and now was passed, for the long-settled project -of Mr. Burney of conveying to Paris his second and, then, youngest -daughters, Frances and Charlotte, to replace his eldest and his third, -Esther and Susanna; now both returned thence, with every improvement -that a kind parent could reasonably desire. - -The time had arrived—and was passed.—But if no man can with certainty -pronounce what at any stated period he will perform, how much less is -he gifted with fore-knowledge of what, at any stated period, he may -wish! - -Six heartless, nearly desolate, years of lonely conjugal chasm, had -succeeded to double their number of nearly unparalleled conjugal -enjoyment—and the void was still fallow and hopeless!—when the yet -very handsome, though no longer in her bloom, Mrs. Stephen Allen, of -Lynn, now become a widow, decided, for promoting the education of her -eldest daughter, to make London her winter residence. - -Mr. Burney was, of course, applied to for assistance in the musical -line; and not less called upon as the most capable judge and counsellor -in every other. - -The loss that had been sustained by Mrs. Allen was that of a very -worthy man, whom she esteemed, but to whom she had been married by -her parents early in life, without either choice or aversion. In her -situation, therefore, and that of Mr. Burney, there was no other -affinity than that each had been widowed by the hand of death. - -Highly intellectual, and fond even to passion of books, Mrs. Allen -delighted in the conversation of Mr. Burney; and the hour for his -instructions to Miss Allen was fixed to be that of tea-time; to the end -that, when he was liberated from the daughter, he might be engaged with -the mother. - -The superior grief of Mr. Burney, as deep as it was acute, was not -more prominent than the feeling admiration that it inspired in Mrs. -Allen: and if moved by his sorrows, while charmed by his merit, Mrs. -Allen saw him with daily increasing interest, Mr. Burney was not less -moved by her commiseration, nor less penetrated by her sympathy; and -insensibly he became solaced, while involuntarily she grew grateful, -upon observing her rising influence over his spirits. - -To the tender sentiments of the heart, the avenues are as infinite -for entrance as they are difficult for escape; but there are none so -direct, and, consequently, none so common, as those through whose -gentle mazes soft pity encounters soothing sensibility. - -The task of consoling the sorrower seems, to its participator, nearly a -devout one; and the sorrower, most especially where beauty and spirit -meet in that participator, would think resistance to such benevolence -might savour of ingratitude. - -Those who judge of the sincerity of pristine connubial tenderness -merely by its abhorrence of succession, take a very unenlightened, -if not false, view of human grief; unless they limit their stigma to -an eager or a facile repetition of those rites which, on their first -inauguration, had seemed inviolable and irreplaceable. - -So still, in fact, they may faithfully, though silently continue, even -under a subsequent new connexion. The secret breast, alive to memory -though deprived of sympathy, may still internally adhere to its own -choice and fondness; notwithstanding the various and imperious calls -of current existence may urge a second alliance: and urge it, from -feelings and from affections as clear of inconstancy as of hypocrisy; -urge it, from the best of motives, that of accommodating ourselves to -our lot, with all its piercing privations; since our lot is dependent -upon causes we have no means to either evade or fathom; and as remote -from our direction as from our wishes. - -If, by any exertion of which mortal man is capable, or any suffering -which mortal man can sustain, Mr. Burney could have called back his -vanished Esther to his ecstatic consciousness, labour, even to -decrepitude, endurance even to torture, he would have borne, would have -sought, would have blessed, for the most transient sight of her adored -form. But she was taken away from him by that decree against which -there is no appeal. - -He who loses a parent, a brother, a sister, a friend, however deeply -and deservedly they may be lamented, is never branded with want of -feeling if he seek another counsellor and guide, if he accept another -companion and favourite. It is but considered to be meeting his destiny -as a man who knows he must not choose it; it is but consenting to -receive such good as is attainable, while bowing down submissively to -such evil as is unavoidable. - -Succession is the law of nature; and, as far as her laws are obvious, -it is that which stands foremost. - -The angel whom Mr. Burney had lost—for an angel both without and -within she had seemed to him—had the generous disinterestedness, on -the bed of death, to recommend to her miserable husband that he would -marry again; well knowing that the tenderness of female friendship -would come nearest,—however distant,—to the softness of consolation: -and, maternally weighing, no doubt, that a well chosen partner might -prove a benediction to her poor children. And this injunction, though -heard at the time with agony scarcely supportable, might probably, -and strongly, influence his future conduct, when the desperation of -hopelessness was somewhat worn away by all-subduing time, joined to -forced exertions in business. - -His Esther had even named to him the lady whom she thought most capable -to suit him as a companion, and most tenderly disposed to becoming a -mother to his children,—Miss Dorothy Young, who was her most valued -friend. Mrs. Allen, Dorothy’s nearest competitor, was not then a widow. -But Mr. Burney, sacred as he held the opinions and the wishes of his -Esther, was too ardent an admirer of beauty to dispense, in totality, -with that attractive embellishment of the female frame. He honoured and -esteemed, with a brother’s affection, the excellent Dorothy Young: but -those charms which awaken softer sensations, were utterly and unhappily -denied to that estimable woman, through her peculiarly unfortunate -personal defects. - -Not early, and not easily, did Mr. Burney and Mrs. Allen reveal their -mutual partiality. The wounded heart of Mr. Burney recoiled from such -anodyne as demanded new vows to a new object: and Mrs. Allen, at -that period, lived in a state of affluence that made such a marriage -require severe worldly sacrifices. Only, however transiently; for by -an unfortunate trust in an unfortunate, though honourable speculatist, -Dr. King, she completely lost all that, independently, was at her own -disposal of fortune. And the noble disinterestedness of Mr. Burney upon -this occasion, rivetted to him her affections, with the highest esteem. - -Yet even when these scruples were mutually overwhelmed by increasing -force of regard, so many unlooked for obstacles stood in the way of -their union, that, wearied by delays that seemed at once captious and -interminable, Mr. Burney earnestly entreated that an immediate private -marriage might avert, at least, a final breach of their engagement: -solemnly promising, at the same time, that they should keep the -alliance secret, and still live apart, till all prudential exactions -should be satisfied. - -As they were each wholly independent, save from the influence of -opinion,—which, however, is frequently more difficult to subdue than -that of authority,—Mrs. Allen saw no objection of sufficient force to -counteract her pleasure in compliance. - -Their plan was confided to four persons, indispensably requisite for -its execution; Mrs., afterwards Lady Strange, Miss Young, Mr. Crisp, -and the Rev. Mr. Pugh, curate of St. James’s church. - -Mr. Pugh, who was of very long standing a friend of Mr. Burney, -aided personally in promoting such measures as secured secrecy with -success; and in St. James’s church, Mr. Pugh tied that indissoluble -knot, which, however fairly promising, is inevitably rigorous, since -it can be loosened only by Crime or by Death: but which, where it -binds the destinies of those whose hearts are already knit together by -reciprocated regard, gives a charm to captivity that robs liberty of -regret. - -At the porch of St. James’s church, Mrs. Strange and Mr. Pugh whispered -their congratulations to the new married couple, as they entered a -prepared post-chaise; which, in a very few hours, galloped them to the -obscure skirts of the then pathless, and nearly uninhabited, Chesington -common; where Mr. Crisp had engaged for them a rural and fragrant -retreat, at a small farm-house in a little hamlet, a mile or two from -Chesington Hall. - -The secret, as usual in matrimonial concealments, was faithfully -preserved, for a certain time, by scrupulous discretion in the -parties, and watchful circumspection in the witnesses: but, as usual -also, error and accident were soon at work to develop the transaction; -and the loss of a letter, through some carelessness of conveyance, -revealed suddenly but irrevocably the state of the connexion. - -This circumstance, however, though, at the time, cruelly distressing, -served ultimately but to hasten their own views; as the discovery was -necessarily followed by the personal union for which their hands had -been joined. - -Mrs. Burney,—now no longer Mrs. Stephen Allen—came openly to town to -inhabit, for a while, a house in Poland-street, a few doors from that -of her husband; while alterations, paintings, and embellishments were -progressively preparing the way for her better reception at his home. - -The two families, however, awaited not the completion of these -improvements for a junction. The younger branches, who already, and -from their birth, were well known to one another, were as eager as -their parents for a general union; and the very amiable Miss Allen,[32] -the most important personage in the juvenile group, conducted herself -upon the disclosure of the marriage, with a generous warmth of kindness -that quickened the new establishment. And her example would forcibly -have weighed with her deserving brother, Stephen Allen,[33] had such -example been wanting; but he entertained so true and affectionate a -respect for Mr. Burney, that he required neither duty nor influence to -reconcile him to the match. - -The four daughters of Mr. Burney,—Esther, Frances, Susan, and -Charlotte,—were all earnest to contribute their small mites to the -happiness of one of the most beloved of parents, by receiving, with the -most respectful alacrity, the lady on whom he had cast his future hopes -of regaining domestic comfort. - -The Paris scheme for the two daughters, who were to have followed the -route of their sisters, long remitted, from the fluctuating affairs -and feelings of Mr. Burney, was now finally abandoned. The youngest -daughter, Charlotte, was sent to a school in Norfolk. The second, -Frances, was the only one of Mr. Burney’s family who never was placed -in any seminary, and never was put under any governess or instructor -whatsoever. Merely and literally self-educated, her sole emulation for -improvement, and sole spur for exertion, were her unbounded veneration -for the character, and affection for the person, of her father; who, -nevertheless, had not, at the time, a moment to spare for giving her -any personal lessons; or even for directing her pursuits.[34] - - -POLAND STREET. - -The friends of Mr. Burney were not slack in paying their devoirs to -his new partner, whose vivacious society, set off by far more than -remains of uncommon beauty, failed not to attract various visitors to -the house; and whose love, or rather passion, for conversation and -argument, were of that gay and brilliant sort, that offers too much -entertainment to be ever left in the lurch for want of partakers. - -Fortunate was it that such was the success of her social spirit; which -success was by no means less flourishing, from her strong bent to -displaying the rites of hospitality. She must else have lived the life -of a recluse, Mr. Burney, during the whole of the day, being devoted to -his profession; with the single exception of one poor hour of repast, -to re-fit him for every other of labour. - -But the affection and pleasure with which, as - - “The curfew toll’d the knell of parting day,” - -he finished his toils, were so animated and so genuine, that the sun, -in the zenith of its splendour, was never more ardently hailed, than -the cool, silent, evening star, whose soft glimmering light restored -him to the bosom of his family; not there to murmur at his fatigues, -lament his troubles, nor recount his wearisome exertions; but to -return, with cheerful kindness, their tender greetings; to enliven -them with the news, the anecdotes, and the rumours of the day; to make -a spontaneous _catalogue raisonné_ of the people he had mixed with -or seen; and always to bring home any new publication, political, -poetical, or ethical, that was making any noise in the world. - -Amongst those of the old friends of Mr. Burney who were the most eager -to judge his second choice, Roscius and Violetta, Mr. and Mrs. Garrick, -seem entitled to be first mentioned, from the pleasurable remembrance -of the delight bestowed upon the whole family by their presence. - - -THE GREVILLES. - -And equally alert with the same congratulatory courtesies, were his -long and rootedly attached friends, the Grevilles. Mr. Greville, -curious to behold the successor of her whom he had never named, but -as one of the prettiest women he had ever seen, hastened to make his -marriage visit on the first morning that he heard of the bride’s -arrival in town: while of Mrs. Greville, the bridal visit was arranged -in such form, and with such attention, as she thought would shew most -consideration to its object. She came on an appointed day, that Mr. -Burney might be certainly at home, to present her to his wife; and she -stayed to spend the whole evening in Poland-street. - -Her nearly peerless daughter, then in the first radiance of her -matchless bloom, who had been lately married to Mr. Crewe, of Cheshire, -with the same zeal as her parents to manifest esteem and affection for -Mr. Burney, joined the party; which consisted but of themselves, and of -Mr. Burney’s new and original young families. - -Mrs. Greville, as was peculiarly in her power, took the lead, and bore -the burthen of the conversation; which chiefly turned upon Sterne’s -Sentimental Journey, at that time the reigning reading in vogue: but -when the new Mrs. Burney recited, with animated encomiums, various -passages of Sterne’s seducing sensibility, Mrs. Greville, shrugging -her shoulders, exclaimed: “A feeling heart is certainly a right heart; -nobody will contest that: but when a man chooses to walk about the -world with a cambrick handkerchief always in his hand, that he may -always be ready to weep, either with man or beast,—he only turns me -sick.” - - -DR. HAWKESWORTH. - -With Dr. Hawkesworth Mr. Burney renewed an acquaintance that he had -begun at Wilbury House, where he who could write the Adventurer, was -not likely to have wanted the public voice to awaken his attention to -a youth of such striking merit. Long before that voice had sounded, Dr. -Hawkesworth had formed the most liberal and impartial opinion of the -young favourite of Mr. Greville. And when, upon the occasion of the -Doctor’s writing a hymn for the children of the Foundling Hospital, -Mr. Burney, through the medium of Mr. Greville, was applied to for -setting it to music, the expressions, incidentally dropt, of genius and -judgment, in a letter of thanks from Dr. Hawkesworth, would have been -in perfect accord with the attributes of the composer, had they been -bestowed after the History of Music had stamped them as his due. - -No opportunity was omitted by Mr. Burney for cultivating the already -established kindness of Mr. Mason and of Dr. Armstrong. - -Mr. Burney had frequent relations also, with that scientific diver into -natural history, and whatever was ingenious, quaint, and little known, -the Hon. Daines Barrington. - -Arthur Young, the afterwards famous agriculturist, who had married a -younger sister of Mr. Burney, was, when in London, all but an inmate of -the Poland-street family; and the high, nay, at that time, volatile -spirits of Arthur Young, though always kept within certain bounds by -natively well-bred manners, and instinctive powers of pleasing, made -him, to the younger group especially, the most entertaining guest that -enlivened the fire side. - -Amongst those whom neither literature nor science, but taste and -choice, taught to signalise Mr. Burney, foremost in the list of -youthful beauty, native talents, and animated softness, appeared Mrs. -Pleydell, daughter of Governor Holwell; so highly celebrated for the -dreadful sufferings, which he almost miraculously survived to record, -of incarceration, in what was denominated the Black Hole of Calcutta. - -Mrs. Pleydell, like the first, or Mrs. Linley Sheridan, was encircled -with charms that, but for comparison with Mrs. Sheridan, might, at that -time, have been called unrivalled; charms at once so personal, yet so -mental, that they seemed entwined together by a texture so fine of -beauty and sensibility, that her first glance was attraction, and her -first speech was captivation. - -Nothing could surpass the sweetness with which this lovely East Indian -attached herself to Mr. Burney; nor the delicacy of her arrangements -for appearing to receive favours in conferring them upon his -daughters; who were enamoured of her with an ardour that, happily, he -escaped; though his admiration was lively and sincere. - -This lady, in taking leave of Mr. Burney, upon her return to India, -presented to him a Chinese painting on ivory, which she had inherited -from her father; and which he, Governor Holwell, estimated as a sort -of treasure. The following is the description of it, drawn up by Mr. -Burney, from the account of Mrs. Pleydell. - - “It is the representation of a music gallery over a triumphal - arch, through which the great Mogul passed at Agra, or Delhi, - before his fall. The procession consists of the Emperor, - mounted on an elephant, and accompanied by his wives, - concubines, and attendants; great officers of state, &c., all - exquisitely painted. The heads of the females, Sir Joshua - Reynolds and Sir Robert Strange, to whom this painting was - shewn, thought sufficiently highly finished to be set in - rings.” - - -GEORGE COLMAN, THE ELDER. - -With that dramatic genius, man of wit, and elegant scholar, George -Colman the elder, Mr. Burney had frequent and pleasant meetings at the -mansion of Roscius; for who, at that time, could know Mr. Garrick, and -be a stranger to Mr. Colman?[35] - - -KIT SMART. - -Nor amongst the early friends of Mr. Burney must ever be omitted that -learned, ingenious, most poetical, but most unfortunate son of Apollo, -Kit Smart; whom Mr. Burney always was glad to see, and active to serve; -though whatever belonged to that hapless poet seemed to go in constant -deterioration; his affairs and his senses annually and palpably -darkening together; and nothing, unhappily, flourishing in the attempts -made for his relief, save the friendship of Mr. Burney; in speaking of -which in a letter, Kit Smart touchingly says: “I bless God for your -good nature, which please to take for a receipt.” - - -SIR ROBERT AND LADY STRANGE. - -The worthy, as well as eminent, Sir Robert Strange, the first engraver -of his day, with his extraordinary wife and agreeable family, were, -from the time of the second marriage, amongst the most familiar -visitors of the Burney house. - -The term extraordinary is not here applied to Lady Strange to denote -any singularity of action, conduct, or person; it is simply limited -to her conversational powers; which, for mother wit in brilliancy -of native ideas, and readiness of associating analogies, placed her -foremost in the rank of understanding females, with whom Mr. Burney -delighted to reciprocate sportive, yet deeply reflective, discourse. -For though the education of Lady Strange had not been cultivated by -scholastic lore, she might have said, with the famous Sarah, Duchess of -Marlborough, “My books are men, and I read them very currently.” And in -that instinctive knowledge of human nature which penetration develops, -and observation turns to account, she was a profound adept. - -Yet, with these high-seasoned powers of exhilaration for others, she -was palpably far from happy herself; and sometimes, when felicitated -upon her delightful gaiety, she would smile through a face of woe, and, -sorrowfully shaking her head, observe how superficial was judgment upon -the surface of things, and how wide from each other might be vivacity -and happiness! the one springing only from native animal spirits; the -other being always held in subjection by the occurrences that meet, -or that mar our feelings. And often, even in the midst of the lively -laugh that she had sent around her, there would issue quite aloud, from -the inmost recesses of her breast, a sigh so deep it might rather be -called a groan. - -Very early in life, she had given away her heart and her hand without -the sanction of a father whom, while she disobeyed, she ardently loved. -And though she was always, and justly, satisfied with her choice, and -her deserving mate, she could never so far subdue her retrospective -sorrow, as to regain that inward serenity of mind, that has its source -in reflections that have never been broken by jarring interests and -regrets. - - -MR. CRISP. - -But the social enjoyment that came closest to the bosom of Mr. Burney, -and of all his race, sprang spontaneously and unremittingly from the -delight of all their hearts, Mr. Crisp; who, from his never abating -love of music, of painting, of his early friend, and of that friend’s -progeny, never failed to make his almost secret visit once a year -to town; though still, save for those few weeks, he adhered, with -inflexible perseverance, to his retirement and his concealment. - -Yet whatever disinclination to general society had been worked upon his -temper by disappointment, and fastened to his habits by ill health, -the last reproach that could be cast upon his conduct was that of -misanthropy; though upon his opinions it might deserve, perhaps, to be -the first. - -He professed himself to be a complete disciple of Swift, where that -satirist, in defending his Yahoos, in Gulliver’s Travels, avows that, -dearly as he loves John, William, and Thomas, when taken individually, -mankind, taken in the lump, he abhors or despises. - -Nevertheless, Mr. Crisp had so pitying a humanity for wrongs or -misfortunes that were casual, or that appeared to be incurred without -vice or crime, that, to serve a fellow-creature who called for -assistance, whether from his purse or his kindness, was so almost -involuntarily his common practice, that it was performed as a thing of -course, without emotion or commentary. - -Mr. Crisp, at this time, was the chief supporter of Chesington Hall, -which had now lost the long dignity of its title, and was sunk into -plain Chesington, by the death of its last male descendant, Christopher -Hamilton; whose extravagances had exhausted, and whose negligence had -dilapidated the old and venerable domain which, for centuries, had -belonged to his family. - -The mansion, and the estate, fell, by law, into the hands of Mrs. Sarah -Hamilton, a maiden sister of Christopher’s. But this helpless ancient -lady was rescued from the intricacies of so involved a succession, by -the skilful counsel of Mr. Crisp; who proposed that she should have the -capacious old house parted nearly in halves, between herself and an -honest farmer, Master Woodhatch; who hired of her, also, what little -remained of grounds, for a farm. - -Yet, this done, Mrs. Sarah Hamilton was by no means in a situation -to reside in the share left to her disposal: Mr. Crisp, therefore, -suggested that she should form a competent establishment for receiving -a certain number of boarders; and, to encourage the project, entered -his own name the first upon her list; and secured to his own use a -favourite apartment, with a light and pleasant closet at the end of a -long corridor. This closet, some years afterwards, he devoted to his -friend Burney, for whom, and for his pen, while he was writing the -History of Music, it was held sacred. - -And here, in this long-loved rural abode, during the very few intervals -that Mr. Burney could snatch from the toils of his profession, and -the cares of his family, he had resorted in his widowhood, with his -delighted children, to enjoy the society of this most valued and -dearly-loved friend; whose open arms, open countenance, faithful -affection, and enchanting converse, greeted the group with such -expansive glee, that here, in this long-loved rural abode, the Burneys -and happiness seemed to make a stand. - - -INSTALLATION ODE. - -The first attempt of Mr. Burney, after his recent marriage, to vary, -though not to quit his professional occupations, was seeking to set -to music the Ode written in the year 1769, by that most delicately -perfect, perhaps, of British poets, Gray, for the installation of the -Duke of Grafton as Chancellor of the University of Cambridge. - -The application to the Duke for this purpose met with no opposition -from his Grace; and the earnest wish of Mr. Burney was to learn, and to -gratify, the taste of the exquisite poet whose verses he was musically -to harmonize, with regard to the mode of composition that would best -accord with the poet’s own lyrical ideas. - -To this effect, he addressed himself both for counsel and assistance -to his early friend, Mr. Mason; from whom he received a trusting and -obliging, but not very comfortable answer.[36] - -Not a second did Mr. Burney lose in forwarding every preparation for -obviating any disgrace to his melodious muse, Terpsichore, when the -poetry of the enchanting bard should come in contact with her lyre. He -formed upon a large scale a well chosen band, vocal and instrumental, -for the performance; and he engaged, as leader of the orchestra, the -celebrated Giardini, who was the acknowledged first violinist of Europe. - -But, in the midst of these preliminary measures, he was called upon, by -an agent of the Duke, to draw up an estimate of the expense. - -This he did, and delivered, with the cheerfulest confidence that his -selection fully deserved its appointed retribution, and was elegantly -appropriate to the dignity of its purpose. - -Such, however, was not the opinion of the advisers of the Duke; and Mr. -Burney had the astonished chagrin of a note to inform him, that the -estimate was so extravagant that it must be reduced to at least one -half. - -Cruelly disappointed, and, indeed, offended, the charge of every -performer being merely what was customary for professors of eminence, -Mr. Burney was wholly overset. His own musical fame might be -endangered, if his composition should be sung and played by such a -band as would accept of terms so disadvantageous; and his sense of his -reputation, whether professional or moral, always took place of his -interest. He could not, therefore, hesitate to resist so humiliating -a proposition; and he wrote, almost on the instant, a cold, though -respectful resignation of the office of composer of the Installation -Ode. - -Not without extreme vexation did he take this decided measure; and he -was the more annoyed, as it had been his intention to make use of so -favourable an opportunity for taking his degree of Doctor of Music, -at the University of Cambridge, for which purpose he had composed an -exercise. And, when his disturbance at so unlooked for an extinction of -his original project was abated, he still resolved to fulfil that part -of his design. - -He could not, however, while under the infliction of so recent a -rebuff, visit, in this secondary manner, the spot he had thought -destined for his greatest professional elevation. He repaired, -therefore, to Oxford, where his academic exercise was performed with -singular applause, and where he took his degree as Doctor in Music, in -the year 1769. - -And he then formed many connexions amongst the professors and the -learned belonging to that University, that led him to revisit it with -pleasure, from new views and pursuits, in after-times. - -So warmly was this academic exercise approved, that it was called for -at three successive annual choral meetings at Oxford; at the second of -which the principal soprano part was sung by the celebrated and most -lovely Miss Linley, afterwards the St. Cecilia of Sir Joshua Reynolds, -and the wife of the famous Mr. Sheridan; and sung with a sweetness and -pathos of voice and expression that, joined to the beauty of her nearly -celestial face, almost maddened with admiring enthusiasm, not only the -susceptible young students, then in the first glow of the dominion of -the passions, but even the gravest and most profound among the learned -professors of the University, in whom the “hey-day of the blood” might -be presumed, long since, to have been cooled. - -From this period, in which the composer and the songstress, in -reflecting new credit, raised new plaudits for each other, there arose -between them a reciprocation of goodwill and favour, that lasted -unbroken, till the retirement of that fairest of syrens from the world. - -The Oxonian new lay-dignitary, recruited in health and spirits, from -the flattering personal consideration with which his academical degree -had been taken, gaily returned to town with his new title of Doctor. - -The following little paragraph is copied from a memorandum book of that -year. - - “I did not, for some time after the honour that had been - conferred on me at Oxford, display my title by altering the - plate on my street door; for which omission I was attacked - by Mr. Steel, author of an essay on the melody of speech. - ‘Burney,’ says he, ‘why don’t you tip us the Doctor upon - your door?’ I replied, in provincial dialect, ‘I wants - dacity!—’ ‘I’m ashaeemed!’ ‘Pho, pho,’ says he, ‘you had - better brazen it.’” - - -HALLEY’S COMET. - -No production had as yet transpired publicly from the pen of Dr. -Burney, his new connexion having induced him to consign every interval -of leisure to domestic and social circles, whether in London, or at the -dowry-house of Mrs. Burney, in Lynn Regis, to which the joint families -resorted in the summer. - -But when, from peculiar circumstances, Mrs. Burney, and a part of the -younger set, remained for a season in Norfolk, the spirit of literary -composition resumed its sway; though not in the dignified form in -which, afterwards, it fixed its standard. - -The long-predicted comet of the immortal Halley, was to make its -luminously-calculated appearance this year, 1769; and the Doctor was -ardently concurrent with the watchers and awaiters of this prediction. - -In the course of this new pursuit, and the researches to which it -led, Dr. Burney, no doubt, dwelt even unusually upon the image and -the recollection of his Esther; who, with an avidity for knowledge -consonant to his own, had found time—made it, rather—in the midst of -her conjugal, her maternal, and her domestic devoirs, to translate from -the French, the celebrated Letter of Astronomical renown of Maupertuis; -not with any prospect of fame; her husband himself was not yet entered -upon its annals, nor emerged, save anonymously, from his timid -obscurity: it was simply from a love of improvement, and a delight in -its acquirement. To view with him the stars, and exchange with him her -rising associations of ideas, bounded all the ambition of her exertions. - -The recurrence to this manuscript translation, at a moment when -astronomy was the nearly universal subject of discourse, was not likely -to turn the Doctor aside from this aerial direction of his thoughts; -and the little relic, of which even the hand-writing could not but -be affecting as well as dear to him, was now read and re-read, till -he considered it as too valuable to be lost; and determined, after -revising and copying it, to send it to the press. - -Whether any tender notion of first, though unsuspectedly, appearing -before the public by the side of his Esther, stimulated the production -of the Essay that ensued from the revision of this letter; or whether -the stimulus of the subject itself led to the publication of the -letter, is uncertain; but that they hung upon each other is not without -interest, as they unlocked, in concert, the gates through which Doctor -Burney first passed to that literary career which, ere long, greeted -his more courageous entrance into a publicity that conducted him -to celebrity; for it was now that his first prose composition, an -Abridged History of Comets, was written; and was printed in a pamphlet -that included his Esther’s translation of the Letter of Maupertuis. - -This opening enterprize cannot but seem extraordinary, the profession, -education, and indispensable business of the Doctor considered; and may -bear upon its face a character contradictory to what has been said of -his prudent resolve, to avoid any attempt that might warp, or wean him -from his own settled occupation; till it is made known that this essay -was neither then, nor ever after avowed; nor ever printed with his -works. - -It was the offspring of the moment, springing from the subject of the -day; and owing its birth, there scarcely can be a doubt, to a fond, -though unacknowledged indulgence of tender recollections. - -The title of the little treatise is, “An Essay towards a History of -Comets, previous to the re-appearance of the Comet whose return had -been predicted by Edmund Halley.” - -In a memorandum upon this subject, by Dr. Burney, are these words: - - “The Countess of Pembroke, being reported to have studied - astronomy, and to have accustomed herself to telescopical - observations, I dedicated, anonymously, this essay to her - ladyship, who was much celebrated for her love of the arts - and sciences, and many other accomplishments. I had not the - honour of being known to her; and I am not certain whether - she ever heard by whom the pamphlet was written.[37]” - -This Essay once composed and printed, the Doctor consigned it to its -fate, and thought of it no more. - -And the public, after the re-invisibility of the meteor, and the -declension of the topic, followed the same course. - -But not equally passive either with the humility of the author, or with -the indifferency of the readers, were the consequences of this little -work; which, having been written wholly in moments stolen from repose, -though requiring researches and studies that frequently kept him to his -pen till four o’clock in the morning, without exempting him from rising -at his common hour of seven; terminated in an acute rheumatic fever, -that confined him to his bed, or his chamber, during twenty days. - -This sharp infliction, however, though it ill recompensed his -ethereal flights, by no means checked his literary ambition; and the -ardour which was cooled for gazing at the stars, soon seemed doubly -re-animated for the music of the spheres. - -A wish, and a design, energetic, though vague, of composing some -considerable work on his own art, had long roved in his thoughts, and -flattered his fancy: and he now began seriously to concentrate his -meditations, and arrange his schemes to that single point. And the -result of these cogitations, when no longer left wild to desultory -wanderings, produced his enlightened and scientific plan for a - - -GENERAL HISTORY OF MUSIC. - -This project was no sooner fixed than, transiently, it appeared to -him to be executed; so quick was the rush upon his imagination of -illuminating and varying ideas; and so vast, so prolific, the material -which his immense collection of notes, abridgments, and remarks, -had amassed, that it seemed as if he had merely to methodize his -manuscripts, and entrust them to a copyist, for completing his purpose. - -But how wide from the rapidity of such incipient perceptions were the -views by which, progressively, they were superseded! Mightier and -mightier appeared the enterprize upon every new investigation; more -difficult, more laborious, and more precarious in all its results: -yet, also, as is usual where Genius is coupled with Application, more -inviting, more inciting, and more alluring to the hope of literary -glory. ’Tis only where the springs of Genius are clogged by “the heavy -and retarding weight” of Indolence; or where they are relaxed by the -nervous and trembling irresolutions of timidity, that difficulties and -dangers produce desertion. - -Far, however, from the desired goal, as was the measured distance of -reality compared with the visionary approaches of imagination, he had -nothing to lament from time thrown away by previous labours lost: his -long, multifarious, and curious, though hitherto unpointed studies, -all, ultimately, turned to account; for he found that his chosen -subject involved, circuitously, almost every other. - -Thus finally fixed to an enterprize which, in this country, at least, -was then new, he gave to it all the undivided energies of his mind; -and, urged by the spur of ambition, and glowing with the vivacity of -hope, he determined to complete his materials before he consigned them -to their ultimate appropriations, by making a scientific musical tour -through France and Italy. - -A letter,[38] of which a copy in his own hand-writing remains, -containing the opening view of his plan and of his tour, addressed to -the Reverend William Mason, will shew how fully he was prepared for -what he engaged to perform, before he called for a subscription to aid -the publication of so expensive a work. - -Through various of his friends amongst persons in power, he procured -recommendatory letters to the several ambassadors and ministers from -our Court, who were stationed in the countries through which he meant -to travel. - -And, through the yet more useful services of persons of influence in -letters and in the arts, he obtained introductions, the most felicitous -for his enterprize, to those who, then, stood highest in learning, in -the sciences, and in literature. - -None in this latter class so eminently advanced his undertaking as Mr. -Garrick; whose solicitations in his favour were written with a warmth -of friendship, and an animation of genius, that carried all before -them. - - -Here stops, for this period, the pen of the memorialist. - -From the month of June, 1770, to that of January, 1771, the life of -Doctor Burney is narrated by himself, in his “Tour to France and Italy.” - -And few who have read, or who may read that Tour, but will regret that -the same pen, while in its full fair vigour, had not drawn up what -preceded, and what will follow this epoch. - -Such, however, not being the case, the memorialist must resume her pen -where that of Dr. Burney, in his narrative, drops,—namely, upon his -regaining the British shore. - - -QUEEN’S SQUARE. - -With all the soaring feelings of the first sun-beams of hope that -irradiate from a bright, though distant glimpse of renown; untamed by -difficulties, superior to fatigue, and springing over the hydra-headed -monsters of impediment that every where jutted forth their thwarting -obstacles to his enterprize, Dr. Burney came back to his country, his -friends, his business, and his pursuits, with the vigour of the first -youth in spirits, expectations, and activity. - -He was received by his longing family, enlivened by the presence of -Mr. Crisp, in a new house, purchased in his absence by Mrs. Burney, at -the upper end of Queen-Square; which was then beautifully open to a -picturesque view of Hampstead and Highgate. And no small recommendation -to an enthusiastic admirer of the British classics, was a circumstance -belonging to this property, of its having been the dwelling of Alderman -Barber, a friend of Dean Swift; who might himself, therefore, be -presumed to have occasionally made its roof resound with the convivial -hilarity, which his strong wit, and stronger humour, excited in every -hearer; and which he himself, however soberly holding back, enjoyed, -probably, in secret, with still more zest than he inspired. - - -CHESINGTON. - -This new possession, however, Dr. Burney could as yet scarcely even -view, from his eagerness to bring out the journal of his tour. No -sooner, therefore, had he made arrangements for a prolongation of -leisure, that he hastened to Chesington and to Mr. Crisp; where -he exchanged his toils and labours for the highest delights of -friendship; and a seclusion the most absolute, from the noisy -vicissitudes, and unceasing, though often unmeaning persecution, of -trivial interruptions. - - -THE MUSICAL TOURS. - -Here he prepared his French and Italian musical tours for the press; -omitting all that was miscellaneous of observation or of anecdote, in -deference to the opinions of the Earl of Holdernesse, Mr. Mason, and -Mr. Garrick; who conjointly believed that books of general travels were -already so numerous, and so spread, that their merits were over-looked -from their multiplicity. - -If such, at that distant period, was the numerical condemnation of -this species of writing, which circumscribed the first published tour -of Dr. Burney to its own professional subject, what would be now the -doom of the endless herd of tourists of all ranks, qualifications, or -deficiencies, who, in these later times, have sent forth their divers -effusions, without sparing an idea, a recollection, or scarcely a -dream, to work their way in the world, through that general master of -the ceremonies, the press? whose portals, though guarded by two _vis à -vis_ sentinels in eternal hostility with each other, Fame and Disgrace, -open equally to publicity. - -Mr. Crisp, nevertheless, saw in a totally different light the -miscellaneous part of the French and Italian tours, and reprehended -its rejection with the high and spirited energy that always marked his -zeal, whether of censure or approbation, for whatever affected the -welfare of his favourites. But Dr. Burney, having first consulted these -celebrated critics, who lived in the immediate world, was too timid to -resist their representations of the taste of the moment; though in all -that belonged not to the modesty of apprehended partiality, he had the -firmest persuasion that the judgment of Mr. Crisp was unrivalled. - -The work was entitled: - - THE PRESENT STATE OF MUSIC - IN FRANCE AND ITALY: - OR THE JOURNAL OF A TOUR THROUGH THOSE COUNTRIES, - UNDERTAKEN TO COLLECT MATERIALS FOR A - GENERAL HISTORY OF MUSIC, - BY CHARLES BURNEY, MUS. D. - - Il Canterono allor si dolcemonte - Che la dolcerra ancor destra mi suona. - - DANTE. - -The motto was thus translated, though not printed, by Dr. Burney. - - “They sung their strains in notes so sweet and clear - The sound still vibrates on my ravished ear.” - -The reception of this first acknowledged call for public attention from -Dr. Burney, was of the most encouraging description; for though no -renown had yet been fastened upon his name, his acquirements and his -character, wherever he had been known, had excited a general goodwill -that prepared the way to kindly approbation for this, and indeed for -every work that issued from his pen. - -There was, in truth, something so spirited and uncommon, yet of so -antique a cast, in the travels, or pilgrimage, that he had undertaken, -in search of materials for the history of his art, that curiosity was -awakened to the subject, and expectation was earnest for its execution: -and it was no sooner published, than orders were received, by most -of the great booksellers of the day, for its purchase; and no sooner -read, than letters the most flattering, from the deepest theorists of -the science, and the best judges of the practice of the art of music, -reached the favoured author; who was of too modest a character to have -been robbed of the pleasure of praise by presumptuous anticipation; -and of too natural a one to lose any of its gratification by an -apathetic suppression of its welcome. And the effect, impulsive and -unsophisticated, of his success, was so ardent an encouragement to his -purpose, that while, mentally, it animated his faculties to a yet more -forcible pursuit of their decided object, it darted him, corporeally, -into a travelling vehicle, which rapidly wheeled him back again to -Dover; where, with new spirit and eagerness, he set sail upon a similar -musical tour in the Low Countries and in Germany, to that which he had -so lately accomplished in France and Italy. - -With respect to the French and Italian tour, the restraint from all but -its professional business, was much lamented by the friends to whom the -sacrifice of the miscellaneous matter was communicated. - -Upon the German tour not a comment will be offered; it is before the -public with an approvance that has been stamped by the sanction of -time. At the period of its publication, Dr. Burney, somewhat assured, -though incapable of being rendered arrogant by favour, ventured to -listen only to the voice of his first friend and monitor, who exhorted -him to mingle personal anecdotes with his musical information. - -The consequence was such as his sage adviser prognosticated; for both -the applause and the sale of this second and more diffuse social diary, -greatly surpassed those of its more technical predecessor. - -Nevertheless, the German tour, though thus successful for narration to -the public, terminated for himself in sickness, fatigue, exorbitant -expense, and poignant bodily suffering. - -While yet far away from his country, and equally distant from -accomplishing the purpose of his travels, his solicitude not to leave -it incomplete, joined to his anxiety not to break his professional -engagements, led him to over-work and over-hurry his mental powers, at -the same time that he inflicted a similar harass upon his corporeal -strength. And while thus doubly overwhelmed, he was assaulted, during -his precipitated return, by the rudest fierceness of wintry elemental -strife; through which, with bad accommodations, and innumerable -accidents, he became a prey to the merciless pangs of the acutest -spasmodic rheumatism; which barely suffered him to reach his home, ere, -long and piteously, it confined him, a tortured prisoner, to his bed. - -Such was the check that almost instantly curbed, though it could not -subdue, the rising pleasure of his hopes of entering upon a new -species of existence, that of an approved man of letters; for it was on -the bed of sickness, exchanging the light wines of France, Italy, and -Germany, for the black and loathsome potions of the Apothecaries’ Hall; -writhed by darting stitches, and burning with fiery fever; that he felt -the full force of that sublunary equipoise, that seems evermore to hang -suspended over the attainment of long-sought and uncommon felicity, -just as it is ripening to burst forth into enjoyment! - -Again he retired to Chesington, to his care-healing, heart-expanding, -and head-informing Mr. Crisp: and there, under the auspices of all that -could sooth or animate him; and nursed with incessant assiduity by his -fondly-attached wife and daughters, he repaired his shattered frame; to -fit it, once again, for the exercise of those talents and faculties, -which illumine, in their expansive effects, the whole race of mankind; -long after the apparent beings whence they have issued, seem faded, -dissolved away; leaving not, visibly, a track behind. - -In Dr. Burney, disease was no sooner conquered, than the vigour of -his character brought back to him pleasure and activity, through the -spirited wisdom with which he dismissed Regret for Anticipation. - -There are few things in which his perfect good-humour was more -playfully demonstrated, than by the looks, arch yet reproachful, and -piteous though burlesque, with which he was wont to recount a most -provoking and painful little incident that occurred to him in his -last voyage home; but of which he was well aware that the relation -must excite irresistible risibility in even the most friendly of his -auditors. - -After travelling by day and by night to expedite his return, over -mountains, through marshes, by cross-roads; on horseback, on mules, in -carriages of any and every sort that could but hurry him on, he reached -Calais in a December so dreadfully stormy, that not a vessel of any -kind could set sail for England. Repeatedly he secured his hammock, -and went on board to take possession of it; but as repeatedly was -driven back by fresh gales, during the space of nine fatiguing days and -tempestuous nights. And when, at last, the passage was effected, so -nearly annihilating had been his sufferings from sea-sickness, that it -was vainly he was told he might now, at his pleasure, arise, go forth, -and touch English ground; he had neither strength nor courage to move, -and earnestly desired to be left awhile to himself. - -Exhaustion, then, with tranquillity of mind, cast him into a sound -sleep. - -From this repose, when, much refreshed, he awoke, he called to the man -who was in waiting, to help him up, that he might get out of the ship. - -“Get out of the ship, sir?” repeated the man. “Good lauk! you’ll be -drowned!” - -“Drowned?—What’s to drown me? I want to go ashore.” - -“Ashore, sir?” again repeated the man; “why you’re in the middle of the -sea! There ar’nt a bit of ground for your toe nail.” - -“What do you mean?” cried the Doctor, starting up; “the sea? did you -not tell me we were safe in at Dover?” - -“O lauk! that’s two good hours ago, sir! I could not get you up then, -say what I would. You fell downright asleep, like a top. And so I told -them. But that’s all one. You may go, or you may stay, as you like; but -them pilots never stops for nobody.” - -Filled with alarm, the Doctor now rushed up to the deck, where he had -the dismay to discover that he was half-way back to France. - -And he was forced to land again at Calais; where again, with the next -mail, and a repetition of his sea-sickness, he re-embarked for Dover. - - * * * * * - -On quitting Chesington, upon his recovery, for re-entering his house -in Queen-Square, the Doctor compelled himself to abstain from his pen, -his papers, his new acquisitions in musical lore, and all that demanded -study for the subject that nearly engrossed his thoughts, in order to -consecrate the whole of his time to his family and his affairs. - -He renewed, therefore, his wonted diurnal course, as if he had never -diverged from it; and attended his young pupils as if he had neither -ability nor taste for any superior occupation: and he neither rested -his body, nor liberated his ideas, till he had re-instated himself in -the professional mode of life, upon which his substantial prosperity, -and that of his house, depended. - -But, this accomplished, his innate propensities sprang again into -play, urging him to snatch at every instant he could purloin, without -essential mischief from these sage regulations; with a redundance of -vivacity for new movement, new action, and elastic procedure, scarcely -conceivable to those who, balancing their projects, their wishes, and -their intentions, by the opposing weights of time, of hazard, and -of trouble, undertake only what is obviously to their advantage, or -indisputably their duty. His Fancy was his dictator; his Spirit was his -spur; and whatever the first started, the second pursued to the goal. - - -ENGLISH CONSERVATORIO. - -But neither the pain of his illness, nor the pleasure of his recovery, -nor even the loved labours of his History, offered sufficient -occupation for the insatiate activity of his mind. No sooner did he -breathe again the breath of health, resume his daily business, and -return to his nocturnal studies, than a project occurred to him of a -new undertaking, which would have seemed to demand the whole time and -undivided attention of almost any other man. - -This was nothing less than to establish in England a seminary for the -education of musical pupils of both sexes, upon a plan of which the -idea should be borrowed, though the execution should almost wholly be -new-modelled, from the Conservatorios of Naples and Vienna. - -As disappointment blighted this scheme just as it seemed maturing to -fruition, it would be to little purpose to enter minutely into its -details: and yet, as it is a striking feature of the fervour of Dr. -Burney for the advancement of his art, it is not its failure, through -the secret workings of undermining prejudice, that ought to induce his -biographer to omit recounting so interesting an intention and attempt: -and the less, as a plan, in many respects similar, has recently been -put into execution, without any reference to the original projector. - -The motives that suggested this undertaking to Dr. Burney, with the -reasons by which they were influenced and supported, were to this -effect. - -In England, where more splendid rewards await the favourite votaries -of musical excellence than in any other spot on the globe, there was -no establishment of any sort for forming such artists as might satisfy -the real connoisseur in music; and save English talent from the -mortification, and the British purse from the depredations, of seeking -a constant annual supply of genius and merit from foreign shores. - -An institution, therefore, of this character seemed wanting to -the state, for national economy; and to the people, for national -encouragement. - -Such was the enlarged view which Dr. Burney, while yet in Italy, had -taken of such a plan for his own country. - -The difficulty of collecting proper subjects to form its members, -caused great diversity of opinion and of proposition amongst the -advisers with whom Dr. Burney consulted. - -It was peculiarly necessary, that these young disciples should be free -from every sort of contamination, mental or corporeal, upon entering -this musical asylum, that they might spread no dangerous contagion of -either sort; but be brought up to the practice of the art, with all its -delightful powers of pleasing, chastened from their abuse. - -With such a perspective, to take promiscuously the children of the -poor, merely where they had an ear for music, or a voice for song, -would be running the risk of gathering together a mixed little -multitude, which, from intermingling inherent vulgarity, hereditary -diseases, or vicious propensities, with the finer qualities requisite -for admission, might render the cultivation of their youthful talents, -a danger—if not a curse—to the country. - -Yet, the length of time that might be required for selecting little -subjects, of this unadulterate description, from different quarters; -with the next to impossibility of tracing, with any certainty, what -might have been their real conduct in times past; or what might be -their principles to give any basis of security for the time to come; -caused a perplexity of the most serious species: for should a single -one of the tribe go astray, the popular cry against teaching the arts -to the poor, would stamp the whole little community with a stain -indelible; and the institution itself might be branded with infamy. - -What, abstractedly, was desirable, was to try this experiment upon -youthful beings to whom the world was utterly unknown; and who not only -in innocence had breathed their infantine lives, but in complete and -unsuspicious ignorance of evil. - -Requisites so hard to obtain, and a dilemma so intricate to unravel, -led the Doctor to think of the Foundling Hospital; in the neighbourhood -of which, in Queen-Square, stood his present dwelling. - -He communicated, therefore, his project, to Sir Charles Whitworth, the -governor of the hospital. - -Sir Charles thought it proper, feasible, desirable, and patriotic. - -The Doctor, thus seconded, drew up a plan for forming a Musical -Conservatorio in the metropolis of England, and in the bosom of the -Foundling Hospital. - -The intention was to collect from the whole little corps all who had -musical ears, or tuneful voices, to be brought up scientifically, as -instrumental or vocal performers. - -Those of the group who gave no decided promise of such qualifications, -were to go on with their ordinary education, and to abide by its -ordinary result, according to the original regulations of the charity. - -A meeting of the governors and directors was convened by their chief, -Sir Charles Whitworth, for announcing this scheme. - -The plan was heard with general approbation; but the discussions to -which it gave rise were discursive and perplexing. - -It was objected, that music was an art of luxury, by no means requisite -to life, or accessary to morality. - -These children were all meant to be educated as plain, but essential -members of the general community. They were to be trained up to useful -purposes, with a singleness that would ward off all ambition for what -was higher; and teach them to repay the benefit of their support by -cheerful labour. To stimulate them to superior views might mar the -religious object of the charity; which was to nullify rather than -extinguish, all disposition to pride, vice, or voluptuousness; such -as, probably, had demoralized their culpable parents, and thrown these -deserted outcasts upon the mercy of the Foundling Hospital. - -This representation, the Doctor acknowledged, would be unanswerable, -if it were decided to be right, and if it were judged to be possible, -wholly to extirpate the art of music in the British empire: or, if the -Foundling Hospital were to be considered as a seminary; predestined -to menial servitude; and as the only institution of the country where -the members were to form a caste, from whose rules and plodden ways no -genius could ever emerge. - -But such a fiat could never be issued by John Bull; nor so flat a stamp -be struck upon any portion of his countrymen. John Bull was at once -too liberal and too proud, to seek to adopt the tame ordinances of the -immutable Hindoos; with whom ages pass unmarked; generations unchanged; -the poor never richer; the simple never wiser; and with whom, family -by family, and trade by trade, begin, continue, and terminate, their -monotonous existence, by the same pre-determined course, and to the -same invariable destiny. - -These children, the Doctor answered, are all orphans; they are -taken from no family, for by none are they owned; they are drawn -from no calling, for to none are they specifically bred. They are -all brought up to menial offices, though they are all instructed in -reading and writing, and the females in needle-work; but they are -all, systematically and indiscriminately, destined to be servants -or apprentices, at the age of fifteen; from which period, all their -hold upon the benevolent institution to which they are indebted for -their infantine rescue from perishing cold and starving want, with -their subsequent maintenance and tuition, is rotatorily transferred -to new-born claimants; for the Hospital, then, has fulfilled its -engagements; and the children must go forth to the world, whether to -their benefit or their disgrace. - -Were it not better, then, when there are subjects who are -success-inviting, to bestow upon them professional improvement, -with virtuous education? since, as long as operas, concerts, and -theatres, are licensed by government, musical performers, vocal and -instrumental, will inevitably be wanted, employed, and remunerated. And -every state is surely best served, and the people of every country are -surely the most encouraged, when the nation suffices for itself, and no -foreign aid is necessarily called in, to share either the fame or the -emoluments of public performances. - -Stop, then; prohibit, proscribe—if it be possible,—all taste for -foreign refinements, and for the exquisite finishing of foreign melody -and harmony; or establish a school on our own soil, in which, as in -Painting and in Sculpture, the foreign perfection of arts may be -taught, transplanted, and culled, till they become indigenous. - -And where, if not here, may subjects be found on whom such a national -trial may be made with the least danger of injury? subjects who have -been brought up with a strictness of regular habits that has warded -them from all previous mischief; yet who are too helpless and ignorant, -as well as poor, to be able to develop whether or not Nature, in her -secret workings, has kindled within their unconscious bosoms, a spark, -a single spark of harmonic fire, that might light them, from being -hewers of wood, and brushers of spiders, to those regions of vocal and -instrumental excellence, that might propitiate the project of drawing -from our own culture a school for music, of which the students, under -proper moral and religious tutelage, might, in time, supersede the -foreign auxiliaries by whom they are now utterly extinguished. - -The objectors were charged, also, to weigh well that there was no law, -or regulation, and no means whatsoever, that could prevent any of this -little association from becoming singers and players, if they had -musical powers, and such should be their wish: though, if self-thrown -into that walk, singers and players only at the lowest theatres, or at -the tea and cake public-gardens; or even in the streets, as fiddlers -of country dances, or as ballad squallers: in which degraded exercise -of their untaught endowments, not only decent life must necessarily be -abandoned, but immorality, licentiousness, and riot, must assimilate -with, or, rather, form a prominent part of their exhibitions and -performances. - -Here the discussion closed. The opponents were silenced, if not -convinced, and the trial of the project was decreed. - -The hardly-fought battle over, victory, waving her gay banners, that -wafted to the Doctor hopes of future renown with present benediction, -determined him, for the moment, to relinquish even his history, that he -might devote every voluntary thought to consolidating this scheme. - -The primary object of his consideration, because the most -conscientious, was the preservation of the morals, and fair conduct of -the pupils. And here, the exemplary character, and the purity of the -principles of Dr. Burney, would have shone forth to national advantage, -had the expected prosperity of his design brought his meditated -regulations into practice. - -Vain would it be to attempt, and useless, if not vain, to describe his -indignant consternation, when, while in the full occupation of these -arrangements, a letter arrived to him from Sir Charles Whitworth, -to make known, with great regret, that the undertaking was suddenly -overthrown. The enemies to the attempt, who had seemed quashed, -had merely lurked in ambush, to watch for an unsuspected moment to -convene a partial committee; in which they voted out the scheme, as an -innovation upon the original purpose of the institution; and pleading, -also, an old act of parliament against its adoption, they solemnly -proscribed it for ever. - -Yet a repeal of that act had been fully intended before the plan, -which, hitherto, had only been agitating and negotiating, should have -been put into execution. - -All of choice, however, and all of respect, that remained for Dr. -Burney, consisted in a personal offer from Sir Charles Whitworth, to -re-assemble an opposing meeting amongst those friends who, previously, -had carried the day. - -But happy as the Doctor would have been to have gained, with the -honour of general approbation, a point he had elaborately studied to -clear from mystifying objections, and to render desirable, even to -patriotism; his pride was justly hurt by so abrupt a defalcation; and -he would neither with open hostility, nor under any versatile contest, -become the founder, or chief, of so important an enterprize. - -He gave up, therefore, the attempt, without further struggle; simply -recommending to the mature reflections of the members of the last -committee, whether it were not more pious, as well as more rational, to -endeavour to ameliorate the character and lives of practical musical -noviciates, than to behold the nation, in its highest classes, cherish -the art, follow it, embellish it with riches, and make it fashion and -pleasure—while, to train to that art, with whatever precautions, its -appropriate votaries from the bosom of our own country, seemed to call -for opposition, and to deserve condemnation. - -Thus died, in its birth, this interesting project, which, but for -this brief sketch, might never have been known to have brightened the -mind, as one of the projects, or to have mortified it, as one of the -failures, of the active and useful life of Dr. Burney. - - -HISTORY OF MUSIC. - -With a spirit greatly hurt through a lively sense of injustice, and -a laudable ambition surreptitiously suppressed by misconception and -prejudice, all that was left for Dr. Burney in this ungracious business -was to lament loss of time, and waste of meditation. - -Yet, the matter being without redress, save by struggles which he -thought beneath the fair design of the enterprise, he combatted -the intrusion of availless discontent, by calling to his aid his -well-experienced antidote to inertness and discouragement, a quickened -application to changed, or renewed pursuits. - -Again, therefore, he returned to his History of Music; and now, -indeed, he went to work with all his might. The capacious table of his -small but commodious study, exhibited, in what he called his chaos, -the countless increasing stores of his materials. Multitudinous, or, -rather, innumerous blank books, were severally adapted to concentrating -some peculiar portion of the work. Theory, practice; music of the -ancients; music in parts; national music; lyric, church, theatrical, -warlike music; universal biography of composers and performers, of -patrons and of professors; and histories of musical institutions, had -all their destined blank volumes. - -And he opened a widely circulating correspondence, foreign and -domestic, with various musical authors, composers, and students, -whether professors or dilettante. - -And for all this mass of occupation, he neglected no business, he -omitted no devoir. The system by which he obtained time that no one -missed, yet that gave to him lengthened life, independent of longevity -from years, was through the skill with which, indefatigably, he -profited from every fragment of leisure. - -Every sick or failing pupil bestowed an hour upon his pen. Every -holiday for others, was a day of double labour to his composition. Even -illness took activity only from his body, for his mind refused all -relaxation. He had constantly, when indisposed, one of his daughters by -his side, as an amanuensis; and such was the vigour of his intellect, -that even when keeping his bed from acute rheumatism, spasmodic pains, -or lurking fever, he caught at every little interval of ease to -dictate some illustrative reminiscence; to start some new ideas, or to -generalize some old ones; which never failed to while away, partially -at least, the pangs of disease, by lessening their greatest torment to -a character of such energy, irreparable loss of time. - -The plan, with proposals for printing the History by subscription, was -no sooner published, than the most honourable lists of orders were sent -to his booksellers, from various elegant classic scholars, and from all -general patrons or lovers of new enterprises and new works. - -But that which deserves most remark, is a letter from two eminent -merchants of the city, Messieurs Chandler and Davis, to acquaint -the Doctor that a gentleman, who wished to remain concealed, had -authorised them to desire, that Dr. Burney would not suffer any failure -in the subscription, should any occur, to induce him to drop the work; -as this gentleman solemnly undertook to be himself responsible for -every set within the five hundred of the Doctor’s stipulation, that -should remain unsubscribed for on the ensuing Christmas. And Messrs. -Davis and Chandler were invested with full powers, to give any security -that might be demanded for the fulfilment of this engagement. - -Dr. Burney wrote his most grateful thanks to this munificent protector -of his project; but declined all sort of tie upon the event. And -the subscription filled so voluntarily, that this generous unknown -was never called forth. Nor did he ever present himself; nor was he -ever discovered. But the incident helped to keep warmly alive the -predilection which the Doctor had early imbibed, in favour of the noble -spirit of liberality of the city and the citizens of his native land, -for whatever seems to have any claim to public character. - - -MR. HUTTON. - -Another letter from another stranger, equally animated by a sincere -interest in the undertaking, though producing, for the moment, a -sensation as warm of resentment, as that just mentioned had excited of -gratitude, was next received by the Doctor. - -It was written with the most profuse praise of the Musical Tours; but -with a view to admonish the Tourist to revise the account drawn up -of the expenses, the bad roads, the bad living, the bad carriages, -and other various faults and deficiencies upon which the travels in -Germany had expatiated: all which this new correspondent was convinced -were related from misinformation, or misconception; as he had himself -visited the same spots without witnessing any such imperfections. He -conjured the Doctor, therefore, to set right these statements in his -next edition; which single amendment would render the journal of his -Tour in Germany the most delightful now in print: and, with wishes -sincerely fervent for all honour and all success to the business, he -signed himself, Dr. Burney’s true admirer, - - JOHN HUTTON, - - _Of Lindsey House, Chelsea_. - -Dr. Burney, who felt that his veracity had that unsullied honour that, -like the virtue of the wife of Cæsar, must not be suspected, read -this letter with the amazement, and answered it with the indignation, -of offended integrity. He could not, he said, be the dupe of -misrepresentation, for he had related only what he had experienced. -His narrative was all personal, all individual; and he had documents, -through letters, bills, and witnesses in fellow-travellers, and in -friends or inhabitants of the several places described, that could -easily be produced to verify his assertions: all which he was most able -and willing to call forth; not so much, perhaps, for the satisfaction -of Mr. Hutton, who so hastily had misjudged him, as for his own; in -certifying, upon proof, how little he had deserved the mistrust of his -readers, as being capable of giving hearsay intelligence to the public. - -Mr. Hutton instantly, and in a tone of mingled alarm and penitence, -wrote a humble, yet energetic apology for his letter; earnestly -entreating the Doctor’s pardon for his officious precipitancy; and -appealing to Dr. Hawkesworth, whom he called his excellent friend, to -intercede in his favour. He took shame, he added, to himself, for not -having weighed the subject more chronologically before he wrote his -strictures; as he had now made out that his hasty animadversion was -the unreflecting result of the different periods in which the Doctor -and himself had travelled; his own German visit having taken place -previously to the devastating war between the King of Prussia and the -Empress Queen, which had since laid waste the whole country in which, -unhappily, it had been waged. - -Dr. Burney accepted with pleasure this conceding explanation. The good -offices of Dr. Hawkesworth were prompt to accelerate a reconciliation -and an interview; and Mr. Hutton, with even tears of eager feelings -to repair an unjust accusation, hastened to Queen-Square. Dr. Burney, -touched by his ingenuous contrition, received him with open arms. And, -from that moment, he became one of the Doctor’s most reverential and -most ardent admirers. - -He made frequent visits to the house; conceived the most friendly -regard for the whole family; and abruptly, and with great singularity, -addressed a letter, that was as original in ideas as in diction, to -one of the daughters,[39] with whom he demanded permission of the -Doctor to correspond. And in a postscript, that was nearly as long -as the epistle, to obviate, probably, any ambiguous notions from his -zeal—though he was already a grey and wrinkled old man—he acquainted -his new young correspondent that he had been married four-and-thirty -years. - -Mr. Hutton was one of the sect of the Moravians, or Hurnhuters, and -resided at Lindsey House, Chelsea, as secretary to the united brethren. -He was author, also, of an Essay towards giving some just ideas of the -character of Count Zinzendorf, the inventor and founder of the sect. - -Mr. Hutton was a person of pleasing though eccentric manners. His -notions were uncommon; his language was impressive, though quaint: -his imagination, notwithstanding his age, was playful, nay, poetical. -He considered all mankind as his brethren, and himself, therefore, as -every one’s equal; alike in his readiness to serve them, and in the -frankness with which he demanded their services in return. - -His desire to make acquaintance, and to converse with every body to -whom any species of celebrity was attached, was insatiable, and was -dauntless. He approached them without fear, and accosted them without -introduction. But the genuine kindness of his smile made way for him -wherever there was heart and observation; and with such his encounter, -however uncouth, brought on, almost invariably, a friendly intercourse. - -Yet where, on the contrary, he met not with those delicate developers -and interpreters, heart and observation, to instil into those he -addressed a persuasion of the benevolence of his intentions in seeking -fair and free fraternity with all his fellow-creatures, he suffered not -his failures to dishearten him; for as he never meant, he never took -offence. And even when turned away from with rudeness or alarm, as a -man conceived to be intrusive, impertinent, or suspicious, he would -neither be angry nor affronted; but, sorrowfully shaking his head, -would hope that some happy accident would inspire them with softer -feelings, ere some bitter misfortune should retaliate their unkindness. - -The immediate, it might, perhaps, be said, the instinctive cause of -any rebuff that he met with in public, namely, his extraordinary -appearance, and apparel, never seemed to occur to him; for as he -looked not at the finest garb of the wealthy or modish with the -smallest respect, he surmised not that the shabbiness of his own could -influence his reception. By him, the tailor and the mantua-maker were -regarded merely as manufacturers of decency, not of embellishment; and -he had full as much esteem for his own clumsy cobbler or second-hand -patching tailor, as the finest beau or belle of Almack’s could have for -their Parisian attirers. - -Nevertheless, so coarse was the large, brown, slouching surtout, which -infolded his body; so rough and blowsy was the old mop-like wig that -wrapt up his head; that, but for the perfectly serene mildness of his -features, and the venerability of his hoary eye-brows, he might at all -times have passed for some constable, watchman, or policeman, who had -mistaken the day for the night, and was prowling into the mansions of -gentlemen, instead of public-houses, to take a survey that all was in -order. - -That a man such as this, with every mark of a nature the most -unstained, and of a character the most unsophisticated, could belong -to a sect, which, by all popular report at least, was stampt, at that -time, as dark and mystic; and as being wild and strange in some of its -doctrines even to absurdity; must make every one who had witnessed -the virtuous tenor of the life of Mr. Hutton, and shared in the -inoffensive gaiety of his discourse, believe the sect to have been -basely calumniated; for not a word was ever uttered by this singular -being that breathed not good will to all mankind; and not an action -is recorded, or known of him, that is irresponsive of such universal -benevolence. - - * * * * * - -Dr. Burney, now, without a single black-ball, was elected a fellow -of the Royal Society; of which honour his first notice was received -through the amiable and zealous Miss Phipps,[40] who, knowing the -day of election, had impatiently gathered the tidings of its success -from her brother, Sir Constantine Phipps:[41] and before either the -president, or the friend who had nominated the Doctor for a candidate, -could forward the news, she sportively anticipated their intelligence, -by sending to Queen-Square a letter directed in large characters, “For -Dr. Burney, F. R. S.”[42] - - -HISTORY OF MUSIC. - -From this period, the profession of Dr. Burney, however highly he -was raised in it, seemed but of secondary consideration for him in -the world; where, now, the higher rank was assigned him of a man of -letters, from the general admiration accorded to his Tours; of which -the climax of honour was the award of Dr. Johnson, that Dr. Burney was -one of the most agreeable writers of travels of the age. And Baretti, -to whom Dr. Johnson uttered this praise, was commissioned to carry it -to Dr. Burney; who heard it with the highest gratification: though, -since his bereavement of his Esther, he had ceased to follow up the -intercourse he had so enthusiastically begun. Participation there had -been so animated, that the charm of the connexion seemed, for awhile, -dissolved by its loss. - -Letters now daily arrived from persons of celebrity, with praises of -the Tours, encouragement for the History, or musical information for -its advantage. Mr. Mason, Mr. Harris of Salisbury, Dr. Warton, Dr. -Thomas Warton, Dr. Harrington, Mr. Pennant, Montagu North, Mr. Bewley, -Mr. Crisp, and Mr. Garrick, all bestowed what Dr. Burney sportively -called sweet-scented bouquets on his journals. - -But amongst the many distinguished personages who volunteered their -services in honour of the History of Music, the Doctor peculiarly -valued the name of Wellesley, Earl of Mornington, father of the -preserver, not alone of England, and of France, but of Europe, at the -awful crisis of general—almost chaotic—danger. - -This nobleman, the Earl of Mornington, with the most liberal love of -the arts, and most generous admiration of their high professors, upon -being addressed by his friend, Mr. Rigby, in favour of Dr. Burney’s -pursuit, came forth, with a zeal the most obliging, to aid the Doctor’s -researches concerning the antiquity of music in Ireland; and the origin -of the right of the Irish for bearing the harp in their arms. - -Some of his lordship’s letters will be found in the correspondence, -replete with information and agreeability. - -The Doctor held, also, a continental correspondence, enlightening and -flattering, with the Baron d’Holbach, Diderot, the Abbé Morellet, M. -Suard, M. Monnet, and Jean Jacques Rousseau himself. - -Of this last-named, and certainly most rare of his epistolary -contemporaries, Jean Jacques Rousseau, the following note is copied from -the Doctor’s memorandums. - - “Five years after the representation of ‘The Cunning Man,’ - when, in 1770, I had visited Rousseau at Paris, and entered - into correspondence with him, I sent him, in a parcel with - other books, a copy of ‘The Cunning Man,’ as it was performed - and printed in England to my translation of his ‘_Devin du - Village_,’ and adjusted to his original music; and I received - from him the following answer. - - “_A Monsieur_, - “_Monsieur le Docteur Burney_, - “_A Londres._ - - “Je recois, Monsieur, avec bien de la reconnoissance, les - deux pièces de musique gravée, que vous m’avez fait remettre - par M. Guy. ‘La Passione de Jomelli,’ dont je vous suppose - l’editeur, montre que vous savez connoître et priser le beau - en ce genre. Cet ouvrage admirable me paroit plein d’harmonie - et d’expression. Il merite en cela d’être mis à côté du - Stabat Mater de Pergolese. Je le trouve seulment au dessous - en ce qu’il a moins de simplicité. - - “Je vous dois aussi des remercimens pour avoir daigné vous - occuper du ‘Devin du Village’; quoiqu’il m’ait paru toujours - impossible à traduire avec succés[43] dans une autre langue. - Je ne vous parlerai pas des changemens que vous avez jugé - apropos d’y faire. Vous avez consulté, sans doute, le goût - de votre nation; et il n’y a rien à dire à cela. - - “Les ouvrages, Monsieur, dont vous m’avez fait le cadeau, me - rappelleront souvent le plaisir que j’ai eu de vous voir, et - de vous entendre; et nourriront le regret de n’en pas jouir - quelque fois. - - “Agreez, Monsieur, je vous supplie, mes bien humbles - salutations. - - “J. J. ROUSSEAU.” - - -JOEL COLLIER. - -The quick-spreading favour with which the Tours were received; the -celebrity which they threw around the name and existence of Dr. -Burney; the associations of rank, talents, literature, learning, and -fashionable coteries, to which they opened an entrance, could not fail, -ere long, to make their author become an object of envy, since they -raised him to be one of admiration. - -The character, conduct, and life of Dr. Burney were now, therefore, -no doubt, critically examined, and morally sifted, by the jealous -herd of contemporary rivals, who had worked far longer, and far more -laboriously, through the mazes of science; yet, working without similar -genius, had failed of rising to similar heights. - -Nevertheless, the immediate path in which Dr. Burney flourished was -so new, so untrodden, that he displaced no competitor, he usurped -no right of others; and the world, unsought and uncanvassed, was so -instinctively on his side, that, for a considerable time, his palpable -pre-eminence seemed as willingly accorded, as it was unequivocally -acknowledged. - -But the viper does not part with its venom from keeping its body -in ambush; and, before the History came out, though long after the -publication of the Tours, a ludicrous parody of the latter was sent -forth into the world, under the name of Joel Collier. - -The Doctor, delicately anxious not to deserve becoming an object for -satire, was much hurt, on its first appearance, by this burlesque -production. It attacked, indeed, little beyond the technical -phraseology of the Tours; the tourist himself was evidently above the -reach of such anonymous shafts. - -It was generally supposed to be a _jeu d’esprit_ of some enemy, to -counteract his rapid progress in public favour; and to undermine the -promising success of his great work. - -But the Doctor himself did not give way to this opinion: he had done -nothing to incur enemies; he had done much to conciliate friends; and, -believing in virtue because practising it, he knew not how to conceive -personal malice without personal offence. He imagined it, therefore, -the work of some stranger, excited solely by the desire of making money -from his own risible ideas; without caring whom they might harass, or -how they might irritate, provided, in the words of Rodrigo, he “put -money in his purse.” - -The Doctor, however, as has been said, from the unimpeachable goodness -of his heart and character, had the fair feelings of mankind in his -favour. The parody, therefore, though executed with burlesque humour, -whether urged or not by malevolence, was never reprinted; and obtained -but the laugh of a moment, without making the shadow of an impression -to the disadvantage of the tourist. - - -MR. TWINING. - -But the happiest produce to Dr. Burney of this enterprise, and the -dearest mede of his musical labours, was the cordial connexion to which -it led with Mr. Twining, afterwards called Aristotle Twining; which -opened with an impulsive reciprocation of liking, and ended in a -friendship as permanent as it was exhilarating. - -Mr. Twining, urged by an early and intuitive taste, equally deep and -refined, for learning and for letters, had begun life by desiring to -make over the very high emoluments of a lucrative business, with its -affluence and its cares, to a deserving younger brother; while he -himself should be quietly settled, for the indulgence of his literary -propensities, in some retired and moderate living, at a distance from -the metropolis. - -His father listened without disapprobation; and at the vicarage of -Colchester, Mr. Twining established his clerical residence. - -His acquaintance with Dr. Burney commenced by a letter of singular -merit, and of nearly incomparable modesty. After revealing, in terms -that showed the most profound skill in musical science, that he had -himself not only studied and projected, but, in various rough desultory -sections, had actually written certain portions of a History of Music, -he liberally acknowledged that he had found the plan of the Doctor -so eminently superior to his own, and the means that had been taken -for its execution so far beyond his power of imitation, that he had -come to a resolution of utterly renouncing his design; of which not -a vestige would now remain that could reflect any pleasure upon his -lost time and pains, unless he might appease his abortive attempt by -presenting its fruits, with the hope that they would not be found -utterly useless, to Dr. Burney. - -So generous an offering could not fail of being delightedly accepted; -and the more eagerly, as the whole style of the letter decidedly spoke -its writer to be a scholar, a wit, and a man of science. - -Dr. Burney earnestly solicited to receive the manuscript from Mr. -Twining’s own hands: and Mr. Twining, though with a timidity as rare -in accompanying so much merit as the merit itself, complied with the -request. - -The pleasure of this first interview was an immediate guarantee of the -mental union to which it gave rise. Every word that issued from Mr. -Twining confirmed the three high characters to which his letter had -raised expectation,—of a man of science, a scholar, and a wit. Their -taste in music, and their selection of composers and compositions, were -of the same school; _i.e._ the modern and the Italian for melody, and -the German for harmony. - -Nor even here was bounded the chain by which they became linked: their -classical, literary, and poetical pursuits, nay, even their fancies, -glided so instinctively into the same channel, that not a dissonant -idea ever rippled its current: and the animal spirits of both partook -of this general coincidence, by running, playfully, whimsically, or -ludicrously, with equal concord of pleasantry, into similar inlets of -imagination. - -The sense of this congeniality entertained by Dr. Burney, will be -best shewn by the insertion of some biographical lines, taken from a -chronological series of events which he committed to paper, about this -time, for the amusement of Mrs. Burney. - - * * * after toil and fatigue — — - To Twining I travel, in hopes of relief, - Whose wit and good-humour soon drive away grief. - And now, free from care, in night-gown and sandals, - Not a thought I bestow on the Goths and the Vandals. - Together we fiddled, we laugh’d, and we sung, - And tried to give sound both a soul and a tongue. - Ideas we sift, we compare, and commute, - And, though sometimes we differ, we never dispute; - Our minds to each other we turn inside out, - And examine each source of belief and of doubt; - For as musical discord in harmony ends, - So our’s, when resolv’d, makes us still better friends. - -The whole family participated in this delightful accession to the -comfort and happiness of its chief; and, Mr. Crisp alone excepted, no -one was received by the Burnean tribe with such eagerness of welcome as -Mr. Twining. - -A correspondence, literary, musical, and social, took place between -this gentleman and the Doctor, when they separated, that made a -principal pleasure, almost an occupation, of their future lives. -And Dr. Burney thenceforward found in this willing and accomplished -fellow-labourer, a charm for his work that made him hasten to it after -his business and cares, as to his most grateful recreation. While Mr. -Twining, exchanging a shyness that amounted nearly to bashfulness, -for a friendly trust that gave free play to his sportive and original -colloquial powers, felt highly gratified to converse at his ease with -the man whose enterprise had filled him with an admiration to which he -had been almost bursting to give some vent; but which he had so much -wanted courage to proclaim, that, as he afterwards most humorously -related, he had no sooner sent his first letter for Dr. Burney to the -post-office, than he heartily hoped it might miscarry! and had hardly, -though by appointment, softly knocked at the door of the Doctor, than -he all but prayed that he should not find him at home! - - -MR. BEWLEY. - -During a visit which, at this time, Dr. Burney made to his old friends -and connexions in Norfolk, he spent a week or two with his truly-loved -and warmly-admired favourite, Mr. Bewley, of Massingham; whose deep -theoretical knowledge of the science, and passion for the art of music, -made, now, a sojourn under his roof as useful to the work of the -Doctor, as, at all periods, it had been delightful to his feelings. - -Of this visit, which took place immediately after one that had -been fatiguingly irksome from stately ceremony, he speaks, in his -chronological rhymes, in the following manner. - - To Bewley retiring, in peace and in quiet, - Where our[44] welcome was hearty, and simple our diet; - Where reason and science all jargon disdain’d, - And humour and wit with philosophy reign’d— - - Not a muse but was ready to answer his call; - By the virtues all cherish’d, the great and the small. - There Clio I court, to reveal every mystery - Of musical lore, with its practice and history. - -Mr. Bewley, now, was the principal writer for scientific articles in -the Monthly Review, under the editorship of Mr. Griffith. He was, also, -in close literary connexion with Dr. Priestley, Mr. Reid, and Padre -Beccaria; with whom to correspond he had latterly dedicated some weeks -exclusively to the study of Italian, that he might answer the letters -of that celebrated man in his own language. - -In company with this learned and dear friend, Dr. Burney afterwards -passed a week at Haughton Hall, with the Earl of Orford, who -invariably received him with cordial pleasure; and who had the manly -understanding, combined with the classical taste, always to welcome -with marked distinction the erudite philosopher of Massingham; though -that obscure philosopher was simply, in his profession, a poor and -hard-working country surgeon; and though, in his habits, partly from -frugal necessity, and partly from negligent indifference, he was the -man the most miserably and meanly accoutred, and withal the most -slovenly, of any who had ever found his way into high society. - -Lord Orford, with almost unexampled liberality, was decidedly blind -to all these exterior imperfections; and only clear-sighted, for this -gifted man of mind, to the genius that, at times, in the arch meaning -of his smile, sparkled knowledge from his eye, with an intelligent -expression that brightened into agreeability his whole queer face. -And to call into play those rugged features, beneath which lurked the -deepest information, and the most enlightened powers of entertainment, -was the pleasure of the noble host; a distinction which saved this -unknown and humble country practitioner from the stares, or the -ridicule, of all new-arrived guests; though secretly, no doubt, they -marvelled enough who he could be; and still more how he came there. - - -DR. HAWKESWORTH. - -At Haughton Hall these two friends found now a large assembled party, -of which the Earl of Sandwich, then first lord of the Admiralty, was at -the head. The whole conversation at the table turned upon what then -was the whole interest of the day, the first voyage round the world of -Captain Cooke, which that great circumnavigator had just accomplished. -The Earl of Sandwich mentioned that he had all the papers relating -to the voyage in his hands; with the circumnavigations preceding it -of Wallace and Byron; but that they were mere rough draughts, quite -unarranged for the public eye; and that he was looking out for a proper -person to put them into order, and to re-write the voyages. - -Dr. Burney, ever eager upon any question of literature, and ever -foremost to serve a friend, ventured to recommend Dr. Hawkesworth; who -though, from his wise and mild character, contented with his lot, Dr. -Burney knew to be neither rich enough for retirement, nor employed -enough to refuse any new and honourable occupation. The _Adventurer_ -was in every body’s library; but the author was less generally known: -yet the account now given of him was so satisfactory to Lord Sandwich, -that he entrusted Dr. Burney with the commission of sending Dr. -Hawkesworth to the Admiralty. - -Most gladly this commission was executed. The following is the first -paragraph of Dr. Hawkesworth’s answer to its communication: - - “Many, many thanks for your obliging favour, and the subject - of it. There is nothing about which I would so willingly be - employed as the work you mention. I would do my best to make - it another Anson’s Voyage. - -Lord Sandwich, upon their meeting, was extremely pleased with Dr. -Hawkesworth, to whom the manuscripts were immediately made over; and -who thus expressed his satisfaction in his next letter to Dr. Burney. - - “I am now happy in telling you, that your labour of love - is not lost; that I have all the journals of the Dolphin, - the Swallow, and the Endeavour in my possession; that the - government will give me the cuts, and the property of the - work will be my own. - - “Is it impossible I should give you my hand, and the thanks - of my heart, here? _i.e._ at Bromley.” - - -CAPTAIN COOKE. - -Some time afterwards, Dr. Burney was invited to Hinchinbroke, the seat -of the Earl of Sandwich, to meet Sir Joseph Banks, Dr. Solander, Dr. -Hawkesworth, and the celebrated circumnavigator, Captain Cooke himself. - -It was the earnest request of James, the eldest son of Dr. Burney, to -be included in the approaching second expedition of this great seaman; -a request which Lord Sandwich easily, and with pleasure, accorded to -Dr. Burney; and the young naval officer was invited to Hinchinbroke, -and presented to his new commander, with a recommendation that he -should stand foremost on the list of promotion, should any occasion of -change occur during the voyage. - -The following note upon Captain Cooke, is copied from a memorandum book -of Dr. Burney’s. - - “In February, I had the honour of receiving the illustrious - Captain Cooke to dine with me in Queen-Square, previously to - his second voyage round the world. - - “Observing upon a table Bougainville’s _Voyage autour du - Monde_, he turned it over, and made some curious remarks - on the illiberal conduct of that circumnavigator towards - himself, when they met and crossed each other; which made - me desirous to know, in examining the chart of M. de - Bougainville, the several tracks of the two navigators; and - exactly where they had crossed or approached each other. - - “Captain Cooke instantly took a pencil from his pocket-book, - and said he would trace the route; which he did in so clear - and scientific a manner, that I would not take fifty pounds - for the book. The pencil marks having been fixed by skim - milk, will always be visible.” - -This truly great man appeared to be full of sense and thought; -well-mannered, and perfectly unpretending; but studiously wrapped up -in his own purposes and pursuits; and apparently under a pressure of -mental fatigue when called upon to speak, or stimulated to deliberate, -upon any other. - -The opportunity which thus powerfully had been prepared of promotion -for the Doctor’s son, occurred early in the voyage. Mr. Shanks, the -second lieutenant of the Discovery, was taken ill at the Cape of Good -Hope, and obliged to leave the ship. “In his place,” Captain Cooke -wrote to Lord Sandwich, “I have appointed Mr. Burney, whom I have found -very deserving.” - - -DOCTOR GOLDSMITH. - -Dr. Goldsmith, now in the meridian of his late-earned, but most -deserved prosperity, was projecting an English Dictionary of Arts -and Sciences, upon the model of the French Encyclopædia. Sir Joshua -Reynolds was to take the department of painting; Mr. Garrick, that -of acting; Dr. Johnson, that of ethics: and no other class was yet -nominated, when Dr. Burney was applied to for that of music, through -the medium of Mr. Garrick. - -Justly gratified by a call to make one in so select a band, Dr. Burney -willingly assented; and immediately drew up the article “Musician;” -which he read to Mr. Garrick; from whom it received warm plaudits. - -The satisfaction of Dr. Goldsmith in this acquisition to his forces, -will be seen by the ensuing letter to Mr. Garrick; by whom it was -enclosed, with the following words, to Dr. Burney. - - “_June 11, 1773._ - - “My dear Doctor, - - “I have sent you a letter from Dr. Goldsmith. He is proud to - have your name among the elect. - - “Love to all your fair ones. - - “Ever yours, - - “D. GARRICK.” - -TO DAVID GARRICK, ESQ. - - “_Temple, Jan. 10, 1773._ - - “Dear Sir, - - “To be thought of by you, obliges me; to be served by you, - still more. It makes me very happy to find that Dr. Burney - thinks my scheme of a Dictionary useful; still more that he - will be so kind as to adorn it with any thing of his own. I - beg you, also, will accept my gratitude for procuring me so - valuable an acquisition. - - “I am, - - “Dear Sir, - - “Your most affectionate servant, - - “OLIVER GOLDSMITH.” - -The work, however, was never accomplished, and its project sunk away -to nothing; sincerely to the regret of those who knew what might be -expected from that highly qualified writer, on a plan that would -eminently have brought forth all his various talents; and which was -conceived upon so grand a scale, and was to be supported by such able -coadjutors. And deeply was public regret heightened that it was by -the hand of Death that this noble enterprise was cut short; Death, -which seemed to have awaited the moment of the reversal of poverty and -hardship into prosperity and fame, for striking that blow which, at an -earlier period, might frequently, for Dr. Goldsmith, have taken away a -burthen rather than a blessing. But such is the mysterious construction -of Life—that mere harbinger of Death!—always obedient to the fatal -knell he tolls, though always longing to implore that he would toll it -a little—little later! - - -DOCTOR HAWKESWORTH. - -The sincere satisfaction that Dr. Burney had experienced in having -influenced the nomination of Dr. Hawkesworth to be editor of the first -voyage of Captain Cooke round the world, together with the revisal and -arrangement of the voyages of Captain Wallace and Admiral Byron, was -soon overcast by sorrow, through circumstances as impossible to have -foreseen as not to lament. - -Dr. Hawkesworth, though already in a delicate state of health, was -so highly animated by his election to this office, and with the vast -emolument which, with scarcely any labour, promised to give the dignity -of ease and comfort to the rest of his life; that he performed his -task, and finished the narratory compilation, with a rapidity of -pleasure, resulting from a promise of future independence, that filled -him with kind gratitude to Dr. Burney; and seemed to open his heart, -temper, and manners, to the most cordial feelings of happiness. - -But the greatness of his recompense for the smallness of his trouble, -immediately disposed all his colleagues in the road of renown to -censure; and all his competitors in that of profit, to jealousy and -ill-will. Unfortunately, in his Introduction to the Voyages, he touched -upon some controversial points of religious persuasion, which proved -a fatal opening to malignity for the enemies of his success; and -other enemies, so upright was the man, it is probable he had none. -His reasoning here, unhappily, was seized upon with avidity by his -infuriated enviers; and the six thousand pounds which flowed into -his coffers, brought six millions of pungent stings to his peace, by -arraigning his principles. - -A war so ungenial to his placid nature, and hitherto honoured life, -breaking forth, with the offensive enmity of assumed superior piety, -in calumnious assertions, that strove to blacken the purity of his -faith and doctrine; occurring at the moment when he had thought -all his worldly cares blown away, to be succeeded by soft serenity -and easy affluence; made the attack so unexpected, that its shock -was enervating; and his wealth lost its charms, from a trembling -susceptibility that detached him from every pleasure it could -procure—save that of a now baneful leisure for framing answers to his -traducers. - -In his last visit, as it proved, to Queen-Square, where he dined and -spent the evening, Dr. Burney was forcibly struck with concern at -sight of the evident, though uncomplaining invalid; so changed, thin, -and livid was his appearance. - -He conversed freely upon the subject of his book, and the abuse which -it had heaped upon him, with the Doctor; who strongly exhorted him to -repel such assaulters with the contempt that they deserved: adding, -“They are palpably the offsprings of envy at your success. Were you to -become a bankrupt, they would all turn to panegyrists; but now, there -is hardly a needy man in the kingdom, who has ever held a pen in his -hand for a moment, who, in pondering upon the six thousand pounds, does -not think he could have done the work better.” - -Dr. Hawkesworth said that he had not yet made any answer to the torrent -of invective poured upon him, except to Dalrymple, who had attacked -him by name; for a law-suit was then impending upon Parkinson’s -publication, and he would write nothing that might seem meant to -influence justice: but when that law-suit, by whatever result, should -be decided, he would bring out a full and general reply to all the -invidious aspersions that so cruelly and wantonly had been cast upon -him, since the publication of the Voyages. - -He then further, and confidentially, opened to Dr. Burney upon his past -life and situation: “Every thing that I possess,” he cried, “I have -earned by the most elaborate industry, except this last six thousand -pounds! I had no education, and no advantage but such as I sedulously -worked to obtain for myself; but I preserved my reputation and my -character as unblemished as my principles—till this last year!” - -Rallying a little then, from a depression which he saw was becoming -contagious, he generously changed the subject to the History of Music; -and begged to be acquainted with its progress; and to learn something -of its method, manner, and meaning; frankly avowing an utter ignorance -of the capabilities, or materials, that such a work demanded. - -Dr. Burney read to him the dissertation,—then but roughly -sketched,—on the Music of the Ancients, by which the History opens: -and Dr. Hawkesworth, confessing its subject to be wholly new to him, -warmly declared that he found its treatment extremely entertaining, as -well as instructive. - -After a visit, long, and deeply interesting, he left his friend very -anxious about his health, and very impatient for his promised pamphlet: -but, while still waiting, with strong solicitude, the appearance of a -vindication that might tranquillize the author’s offended sensibility, -the melancholy tidings arrived, that a slow fever had robbed the -invalid of sleep and of appetite; and had so fastened upon his -shattered nerves, that, after lingering a week or two, he fell a prey -to incurable atrophy; and sunk to his last earthly rest exactly a month -after the visit to Dr. Burney, the account of which has been related. - -Had the health of Dr. Hawkesworth been more sound, he might have turned -with cold disdain from the outrages of mortified slanderers; or have -scoffed the impotent rage of combatants whom he had had the ability to -distance:—but, who shall venture to say where begins, and where ends, -the complicate reciprocity of influence which involves the corporeal -with the intellectual part of our being? Dr. Hawkesworth foresaw not -the danger, to a constitution already, and perhaps natively, fragile, -of yielding to the agitating effects of resentful vexation. He brooded, -therefore, unresistingly, over the injustice of which he was the -victim; instead of struggling to master it by the only means through -which it is conquerable, namely, a calm and determined silence, that -would have committed his justification to personal character;—a -still, but intrepid champion, against which falsehood never ultimately -prevails. - - -KIT SMART. - -If thus untimely fell he who, of all the literary associates of Dr. -Burney, had attained the most prosperous lot, who shall marvel that -untimely should be the fate of the most unfortunate of his Parnassian -friends, Christopher Smart? who, high in literary genius, though in -that alone, had a short time previously, through turns of fortune, -and concurrences of events, wholly different in their course from -those which had undermined the vital powers of Dr. Hawkesworth, paid -as prematurely the solemn debt relentlessly claimed by that dread -accomptant-general, Death!—of all alike the awful creditor!—and paid -it as helplessly the victim of substantial, as Dr. Hawkesworth was that -of shadowy, disappointment. - -With failure at the root of every undertaking, and abortion for the -fruit of every hope, Kit Smart finished his suffering existence in -the King’s Bench prison; where he owed to a small subscription, of -which Dr. Burney was at the head, a miserable little pittance beyond -the prison allowance; and where he consumed away the blighted remnant -of his days, under the alternate pressure of partial aberration of -intellect, and bacchanalian forgetfulness of misfortune. - -His learning and talents, which frequently, in his youth, had been -crowned with classical laurels at the University of Cambridge, had -seemed to prognosticate a far different result: but, through whatever -errors or irregularities such fair promises may have been set aside, -he, surely, must always call for commiseration rather than censure, who -has been exposed, though but at intervals, to the unknown disorders of -wavering senses. - -Nevertheless, whenever he was master of his faculties, his piety, -though rather fanatical than rational, was truly sincere; and survived -all his calamities, whether mental or mundane. - -He left behind him none to whom he was more attached than Dr. Burney, -who had been one of his first favourite companions, and who remained -his last and most generous friend. - -Alike through his malady and his distresses, the goodness of his -heart, and his feeling for others, were constantly predominant. In his -latest letter to Dr. Burney, which was written from the King’s Bench -prison, he passionately pleaded for a fellow-sufferer, “whom I myself,” -he impressively says, “have already assisted according to my willing -poverty.” - -Kit Smart is occasionally mentioned in Boswell’s Life of Dr. Johnson, -and with anecdotes given to Mr. Boswell by Dr. Burney. - -Mrs. Le Noir, the ingenious daughter of Mr. Smart, is authoress of a -pleasing production entitled _Village Manners_, which she dedicated to -Dr. Burney. - - -QUEEN-SQUARE. - -Dr. Burney now, in the intervals of his varied, but never-ceasing -occupations, gently, yet gaily, enjoyed their fruits. All classes of -authors offered to him their services, or opened to him their stores. -The first musical performers then in vogue, Millico, Giardini, Fischer, -Cervetto, Crosdill, Barthelemon, Dupont, Celestini, Parke, Corri, the -blind Mr. Stanley, La Baccelli, and that composer for the heart in all -its feelings, Sacchini; with various others, were always eager to -accept his invitations, whether for concerts, which occasionally he -gave to his friends and acquaintance; or to private meetings for the -regale of himself and family. - - -OMIAH. - -But his most serious gratification of this period, was that of -receiving in safety and honour, James, his eldest son, the lieutenant -of Captain Cooke, on the return from his second voyage round the world, -of that super-eminent navigator. - -The Admiralty immediately confirmed the nomination of Captain Cooke; -and further, in consideration of the character and services of the -young naval officer, promoted him to the rank of master and commander. - -The voyagers were accompanied back by Omiah, a native of Ulitea, one of -the Otaheitean islands. Captain Burney, who had studied the language -of this stranger during the voyage home, and had become his particular -favourite, was anxious to introduce the young South-Sea islander to his -father and family; who were at least equally eager to behold a native -of a country so remote, and of such recent discovery. - -A time was quickly fixed for his dining and spending the day in -Queen-Square; whither he was brought by Mr., afterwards Sir Joseph, -Bankes, and Dr. Solander; who presented him to Dr. Burney. - -The behaviour of this young Otaheitean, whom it would be an abuse of -all the meaning annexed to the word, to call a savage, was gentle, -courteous, easy, and natural; and shewed so much desire to please, and -so much willingness to be pleased himself, that he astonished the whole -party assembled to receive him; particularly Sir Robert Strange and -Mr. Hayes; for he rather appeared capable to bestow, than requiring to -want, lessons of conduct and etiquette in civilized life. - -He had a good figure, was tall and well-made; and though his complexion -was swarthy and dingy, it was by no means black; and though his -features partook far more of the African than of the European cast, his -eyes were lively and agreeable, and the general expression of his face -was good-humoured and pleasing. - -He was full dressed on this day, in the English costume, having just -come from the House of Lords, whither he had been taken by Sir Joseph -Bankes, to see, rather than to hear, for he could not understand it, -the King deliver his speech from the throne. He had also been admitted -to a private audience of his Majesty, whom he had much entertained. - -A bright Manchester velvet suit of clothes, lined with white satin, -in which he was attired, sat upon him with as much negligence of his -finery, as if it had been his customary dress from adolescence. - -But the perfect ease with which he wore and managed a sword, which -he had had the honour to receive from the king, and which he had -that day put on for the first time, in order to go to the House of -Lords, had very much struck, Sir Joseph said, every man by whom it had -been observed; since, by almost every one, the first essay of that -accoutrement had been accompanied with an awkwardness and inconvenience -ludicrously risible; which this adroit Otaheitean had marvellously -escaped. - -Captain Burney had acquired enough of the Otaheitean language to be -the ready interpreter of Omiah with others, and to keep him alive -and in spirits himself, by conversing with him in his own dialect. -Omiah understood a little English, when addressed in it slowly -and distinctly; but could speak it as yet very ill; and with the -peculiarity, whether adopted from the idiom of his own tongue, or from -the apprehension of not being clearly comprehended, of uttering first -affirmatively, and next negatively, all the little sentences that he -attempted to pronounce. - -Thus, when asked how he did, he answered “Ver well; not ver ill.” Or -how he liked any thing, “Ver nice; not ver nasty.” Or what he thought -of such a one, “Ver dood; not ver bad.” - -On being presented by Captain Burney to the several branches of the -family, when he came to this memorialist, who, from a bad cold, was -enveloped in muslin wrappings, he inquired into the cause of her -peculiar attire; and, upon hearing that she was indisposed, he looked -at her for a moment with concern, and then, recovering to a cheering -nod, said, “Ver well to-morrow morrow?” - -There had been much variation, though no serious dissension, among -the circumnavigators during the voyage, upon the manner of naming -this stranger. Captain Burney joined those officers who called him -Omai; but Omiah was more general; and Omy was more common still. The -sailors, however, who brought him over, disdaining to scan the nicety -of these three modes of pronunciation, all, to a man, left each of them -unattempted and undiscussed, and, by universal, though ridiculous -agreement, gave him no other appellation than that of Jack. - -His after visits to the house of Dr. Burney were frequent, and -evidently very agreeable to him. He was sure of a kind reception from -all the family, and he was sincerely attached to Captain Burney; -who was glad to continue with him the study of the Otaheitean -language, preparatory to accompanying Captain Cooke in his third -circumnavigation, when Omiah was to be restored to his own island and -friends. - -In the currency of this intercourse, remarks were incessantly excited, -upon the powers of nature unassisted by art, compared with those of art -unassisted by nature; and of the equal necessity of some species of -innate aptness, in civilized as well as in savage life, for obtaining -success in personal acquirements. - -The diserters on the instruction of youth were just then peculiarly -occupied by the letters of Lord Chesterfield; and Mr. Stanhope, their -object, was placed continually in a parallel line with Omiah: the -first, beginning his education at a great public school; taught from an -infant all attainable improvements; introduced, while yet a youth, at -foreign courts; and brought forward into high life with all the favour -that care, expense, information, and refinement could furnish; proved, -with all these benefits, a heavy, ungainly, unpleasing character: -while the second, with neither rank nor wealth, even in his own remote -island; and with no tutor but nature; changing, in full manhood, his -way of life, his dress, his country, and his friends; appeared, through -a natural facility of observation, not alone unlike a savage, but with -the air of a person who had devoted his youth to the practice of those -graces, which the most elaborately accomplished of noblemen had vainly -endeavoured to make the ornament of his son. - - -MR. CRISP. - -Another severe illness broke into the ease, the prosperity, and the -muse of Dr. Burney, and drove him, perforce, to sojourn for some weeks -at Chesington, with his friend, Mr. Crisp; whose character, in the -biographical and chronological series of events, is thus forcibly, -though briefly, sketched. - - “To Crisp I repair’d—that best guide of my youth, - Whose decisions all flow from the fountain of truth; - - Whose oracular counsels seem always excited - By genius, experience, and wisdom united. - Then his taste in the arts—happy he who can follow! - ’Tis the breath of the muses when led by Apollo. - His knowledge instructs, and his converse beguiles.” - -To this inestimable Mentor, and to Chesington, that sanctuary of -literature and of friendship, Dr. Burney, even in his highest health, -would uncompelled have resorted, had Fortune, as kind to him in her -free gifts as Nature, left his residence to his choice. - -But choice has little to do with deciding the abode of the man who -has no patrimony, yet who wishes to save his progeny from the same -hereditary dearth: the Doctor, therefore, though it was to the spot -of his preference that he was chased, could not, now, make it that of -his enjoyment: he could only, and hardly, work at the recovery of his -strength; and, that regained, tear himself away from this invaluable -friend, and loved retreat, to the stationary post of his toils, the -metropolis. - - -ST. MARTIN’S STREET. - -His house in Queen-Square had been relinquished from difficulties -respecting its title; and Mrs. Burney, assiduously and skilfully, -purchased and prepared another, during his confinement, that was -situated in St. Martin’s-street, Leicester-fields. - -If the house in Queen-Square had owed a fanciful part of its value to -the belief that, formerly, in his visits to Alderman Barber, it had -been inhabited occasionally by Dean Swift, how much higher a local -claim, was vested in imagination, for a mansion that had decidedly been -the dwelling of the immortal Sir Isaac Newton! - -Dr. Burney entered it with reverence, as may be gathered from the -following lines in his doggrel chronology. - - “This house, where great Newton once deign’d to reside, - Who of England, and all Human Nature the pride, - Sparks of light, like Prometheus, from Heaven purloin’d, - Which in bright emanations flash’d full on mankind.” - -This change of position from Queen-Square to St. Martin’s-street, -required all that it could bestow of convenience to business, of -facilitating fashionable and literary intercourse, of approximation -to travelling foreigners of distinction, and of vicinity to the Opera -House; to somewhat counter-balance its unpleasant site, its confined -air, and its shabby immediate neighbourhood; after the beautiful -prospect which the Doctor had quitted of the hills, ever verdant -and smiling, of Hampstead and Highgate; which, at that period, in -unobstructed view, had faced his dwelling in Queen-Square. - -St. Martin’s-street, though not narrow, except at its entrance from -Leicester-square, was dirty, ill built, and vulgarly peopled. - -The house itself was well-constructed, sufficiently large for the -family, and, which now began to demand nearly equal accommodation, for -the books of the Doctor. The observatory of Sir Isaac Newton, which -surmounted its roof, over-looked all London and its environs. It still -remained in the same simple state in which it had been left by Sir -Isaac; namely, encompassed completely by windows of small old-fashioned -panes of glass, so crowded as to leave no exclusion of the glazier, -save what was seized for a small chimney and fire-place, and a -cupboard, probably for instruments. Another cupboard was borrowed from -the little landing-place for coals. - -The first act of Dr. Burney, after taking possession of this house, -was to repair, at a considerable expense, the observatory of the -astronomical chief of nations: and he had the enthusiasm, soon -afterwards, of nearly re-constructing it a second time, in consequence -of the fearful hurricane of 1778, by which its glass sides were utterly -demolished; and its leaden roof, in a whirl of fighting winds, was -swept wholly away. - -Dr. Burney, who was as elevated in spirit as he was limited in means, -for being to all the arts, and all the artists, a patron, preferred -any self-denial to suffering such a demolition. He would have thought -himself a ruthless Goth, had he permitted the _sanctum sanctorum_ of -the developer of the skies in their embodied movements, to have been -scattered to nonentity through his neglect or parsimony; and sought -for, thenceforward, in vain, by posterity. - - * * * * * - -Amongst the earliest hailers of this removal, stood forth the worthy -and original Mr. Hutton, who was charmed to visit his enthusiastically -esteemed new friend in the house of the great Newton; in which he -flattered himself with retaining a faint remembrance that he had been -noticed, when a boy, by the niece of that most stupendous of human -geniuses. - -In shaking hands around with the family upon this occasion, Mr. Hutton -related that he had just come from the apartment of M. de Solgas, -sub-preceptor to his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales;[45] in which -he had had the high honour of being permitted to discourse with his -Majesty; whom he had found the best of men, as well as the best of -Kings; for, in talking over the letters of Lord Chesterfield, and -his Lordship’s doctrines, and subtle definitions of simulation and -dissimulation, his Majesty said, “It is very deep, and may be it is -very clever; but for me, I like more straight-forward work.” - -This tribute to the honour of simple truth excited a general plaudit. -Mr. Hutton then, with a smile of benevolent pleasure, said that the -subject had been changed, by Mr. Smelt, from Lord Chesterfield’s -letters to Dr. Burney’s Tours, which had been highly commended: “And -then I,” added the good old man, “could speak my notions, and my -knowledge, too, of my excellent friend the tourist, as well as of his -writings; and so, openly and plainly, as one honest man should talk to -another, I said it outright to my sovereign lord the King—who is as -honest a man himself as any in his own three kingdoms. God bless him!” - -All the party, greatly pleased, smiled concurrence; and Mrs. Burney -said that the Doctor was very happy to have had a friend to speak of -him so favourably before the King. - -“Madam,” cried the good man, with warmth, “I will speak of him before -my God! And that is doing much more.” - -The Stranges, who lived in the immediate neighbourhood of St. -Martin’s-street, were speedy welcomers to the new dwelling; where -heartily they were welcomed. - -The Doctor’s worthy and attached old friend, Mr. Hayes, rejoiced in -this near approach to his habitation, which was in James-street, -Westminster; though the fast advancing ravages and debilities of time -and infirmities, soon bereaved him of all other advantage from the -approximation, than that which he could court to his own house. - -Mr. Twining, when in town, which was only for a week or two every year, -loved not to pass even a day without bestowing a few minutes of it upon -a house at which he was always hailed with delight. - -But Mr. Crisp, though unalterably he maintained that first place in the -heart of Dr. Burney, to which priority of every species entitled him, -had become subject to such frequent fits of the gout, that to London -he was almost lost: he dreaded sleeping even a night from Chesington, -which now was his nearly unbroken residence. - -The learned and venerable Mr. Latrobe, and his two sons, each of them -men of genius, though of different characters, were frequent in their -visits, and amongst the Doctor’s warmest admirers; and, in the study of -the German language and literature, amongst his most useful friends. - -The elegant translator of Tasso, Mr. Hoole, and his erudite and -poetical son, the Rev. Samuel Hoole,[46] to form whose characters worth -and modesty went hand in hand, were often of the social circle. - -The Doctor’s two literary Italian friends, Martinelli and Baretti, -were occasional visitors; and by the rapidity of their elocution, the -exuberance of their gestures, and the distortion of their features, -upon even the most trivial contradiction, always gave to the Doctor a -divertingly national reminiscence of the Italian, or Volcanic, portion -of his tours. - -Mr. Nollekens, the eminent sculptor, was one of the travelled -acquaintances of Dr. Burney, with whom he had frequently assorted while -in Italy; and with whom now, and through life, he kept up the connexion -then formed. - -Nollekens was one of those who shewed, in the most distinct point of -view, the possible division of partial from general talent. He was -uncultivated and under-bred; his conversation was without mark; his -sentiments were common; and his language was even laughably vulgar; yet -his works belong to an art of transcendant sublimity, and are beautiful -with elegance and taste. - - -MR. BRUCE. - -But more peculiarly this new residence was opened by the distinction of -a new acquaintance, who was then as much the immediate lion of the day, -as had been the last new acquaintance, Omiah, who had closed the annals -of the residence in Queen-Square. - -This personage was no other than the famous Mr. Bruce, who was just -returned to England, after having been wandering, and thought to be -lost, during four years, in the deserts and sands of the hitherto -European-untrodden territory of Africa, in search of the source, or -sources, of the Nile. - -The narrations, and even the sight of Mr. Bruce, were at this time -vehemently sought, not only by all London, but, as far as written -intercourse could be stretched, by all Europe. - -The tales spread far and wide, first of his extraordinary disappearance -from the world, and next of his unexpected re-appearance in the heart -of Africa, were so full of variety, as well as of wonder, that they -raised equal curiosity in the most refined and the most uncultivated of -his contemporaries. - -Amongst these multifarious rumours, there was one that aroused in -Dr. Burney a more eager desire to see and converse with this eminent -traveller, than was felt even by the most ardent of the inquirers who -were pressing upon him, in successive throngs, for intelligence. - -The report here alluded to, asserted, that Mr. Bruce had discovered, -and personally visited, the long-famed city of Thebes; and had found it -such as Herodotus had described: and that he had entered and examined -its celebrated temple; and had made, and brought home, a drawing of -the Theban harp, as beautiful in its execution as in its form, though -copied from a model of at least three thousand years old. - -Mr. Bruce had brought, also, from Egypt, a drawing of an Abyssinian -lyre in present use. - -The assiduity of Dr. Burney in devising means of introduction to -whosoever could increase, or ameliorate, the materials of his history, -was not here put to any proof. Mr. Bruce had been an early friend of -Mrs. Strange, and of her brother, Mr. Lumisden; and that zealous lady -immediately arranged a meeting between the parties at her own house. - -As this celebrated narrator made the opening of his career as an -author, in the History of Music of Dr. Burney; to the éclat of which, -on its first appearance, he not slightly contributed, by bestowing upon -it the two admirable original drawings above-mentioned, with a letter -historically descriptive of their authenticity; some account of him -seems naturally to belong to this place: and the Editor is persuaded, -that two or three genuine, though juvenile letters which she wrote, -at the time, to Mr. Crisp, may be more amusing to the reader, from -their natural flow of youthful spirits, in describing the manners and -conversation of this extraordinary wanderer, than any more steady -recollections that could at present be offered from the same pen. -And, led by this persuasion, she here copies a part of her early and -confidential correspondence with her father’s, her family’s, and her -own first friend.[47] - - “TO SAMUEL CRISP, ESQ. - - “_Chesington, near Kingston, Surrey._ - - “_St. Martins Street, 1775._ - -“Well, now then, my dear Daddy,[48] I have got courage to obey your -call for more! more! more! without fear of fatiguing you, for I have -seen the great man-mountain, Mr. Bruce; and have been in his high and -mighty presence three times; as I shall proceed to tell you in due form -and order, and with all the detail you demand. - - -“MEETING THE FIRST - -took place at the tea-table, at Mrs. Strange, to which my mother, by -appointment, had introduced her Lynn friends, Mr. and Mrs. Turner, who -were extremely curious to see Mr. Bruce. My dear father was to have -escorted us; but that provoking mar-plot, commonly called Business, -came, as usual, in the way, and he could only join us afterwards. - -“The man-mountain, and Mr. and Mrs. Turner, were already arrived; and -no one else was invited, or, at least, permitted to enter. - -“Mr. Bruce, as we found, when he arose—which he was too stately to -do at once—was placed on the largest easy chair; but which his vast -person covered so completely, back and arms, as well as seat, that -he seemed to have been merely placed on a stool; and one was tempted -to wonder who had ventured to accommodate him so slightly. He is the -tallest man you ever saw in your life—at least, _gratis_. However, -he has a very good figure, and is rather handsome; so that there is -nothing alarming, or uncomely, or, I was going to say, ungenial—but I -don’t think that is the word I mean—in his immense and authoritative -form. - -“My mother was introduced to him, and placed by his side; but, having -made her a cold, though civilish bow, he took no further notice even -of her being in the room. I, as usual, glided out of the way, and got -next to Miss Strange, who is agreeable and sensible: and who, seeing -me, I suppose, very curious upon the subject, gave me a good deal of -information about Man-Mountain. - -“As he is warmly attached to Mrs. Strange and her family, he spends all -his disengaged evenings at their house, where, when they are alone, he -is not only chatty and easy, but full of comic and dry humour; though, -if any company enters, he sternly, or gloatingly, Miss Strange says, -shuts up his mouth, and utters not a word—except, perhaps, to her -parrot; which, I believe, is a present from himself. Certainly he does -not appear more elevated above the common race in his size, than in his -ideas of his own consequence. Indeed, I strongly surmise, that he is -not always without some idea how easy it would be to him—and perhaps -how pleasant—in case any one should dare to offend him, to toss a -whole company of such pigmies as the rest of mankind must seem to him, -pell-mell down stairs,—if not out of the window. - -“There is some excuse, nevertheless, for this proud shyness, because -he is persuaded that nobody comes near him but either to stare at him -as a curiosity, or to pick his brains for their own purposes: for, -when he has deigned to behave to people as if he considered himself as -their fellow-creature, every word that has been drawn from him has been -printed in some newspaper or magazine; which, as he intends to publish -his travels himself, is abominably provoking; and seems to have made -him suspicious of some dark design, or some invidious trick, when any -body says to him ‘How do you do, Sir?’ or, ‘Pray, Sir, what’s o’clock?’ - -“And, after all, if his nature in itself is as imperious as his person -and air are domineering, it is hardly fair to expect that having lived -so long among savages should have softened his manners. - -“Well, when all the placements, and so forth, were over, we went to -tea. There’s an event for you, my dear Sir! - -“There was, however, no conversation. Mr. Bruce’s grand air, gigantic -height, and forbidding brow, awed every body into silence, except Mrs. -Strange; who, with all her wit and powers, found it heavy work to talk -without reply. - -“But Mr. Turner suffered the most. He is, you know, a very jocular -man, and cannot bear to lose his laugh and his _bon mot_. Yet he durst -not venture at either; though he is so accustomed to indulge in both, -and very successfully, in the country, that he seemed in blank dismay -at finding himself kept in such complete subordination by the fearful -magnitude of Mr. Bruce, joined to the terror of his looks. - -“Mrs. Turner, still less at her ease, because still less used to the -company of strangers, attempted not to obtain any sort of notice. Yet, -being gay in her nature, she, too, did not much like being placed -so totally in the back ground. But she was so much impressed by the -stateliness of this renowned traveller, that I really believe she sat -saying her prayers half the evening, that she might get away from the -apartment without some affront. - -“Pray have you happened to read a paragraph in the newspapers, -importing that Mr. Bruce was dying, or dead? My father, who had seen -him alive and well the day before it appeared, cut it out, and wafered -it upon a sheet of paper, and sent it to him without comment. - -“My mother now inquired of Mr. Bruce whether he had seen it? - -“‘Yes,’ answered he, coolly; ‘but they are welcome to say what -they please of me. I read my death with great composure.’ Then, -condescending to turn to me,—though only, I doubt not, to turn away -from my elders,—he added: ‘Were you not sorry, Miss Burney, to hear -that I was dead?’ - -“Finding him thus address himself, and rather courteously, for he -really smiled, to so small a personage as your very obedient servant, -Mr. Turner, reviving, gathered courage to open his mouth, and, with -a put-on air of easy jocularity, ventured to exclaim, with a laugh, -‘Well, sir, as times go, I think, when they killed you, it is very well -they said no harm of you.’ - -“‘I know of no reason they had!’ replied Mr. Bruce, in so loud a tone, -and with an air of such infinite haughtiness, that poor Mr. Turner, -thus repulsed in his first attempt, never dared to again open his lips. - -“Soon afterwards, a servant came into the room, with General Melville’s -compliments, and he begged to know of Mrs. Strange whether it was true -that Mr. Bruce was so dangerously ill. - -“‘Yes!’ cried he, bluffly; ‘tell the General I am dead.’ - -“‘Ay, poor soul! poor mon!’ cried Mrs. Strange, ‘I dare say he has been -vexed enough to hear such a thing! Poor honest mon! I dare be sworn he -never wronged or deceived a human being in all his life.’ - -“‘Will you, faith?’ cried Mr. Bruce: ‘Will you be sworn to that? It’s -more than I would dare to be for any man alive! Do you really think he -has risen to the rank of General, with so little trouble?’ - -“‘Troth, yes,’ she answered; ‘you men, you know, never deceive men! you -have too much honour for that. And as to us women,—ah, troth! the best -among you canno’ deceive me! for whenever you say pretty things to me, -I make it a rule to believe them all to be true: so the prettier the -better!’ - -“Miss Bell Strange, the youngest daughter, a very sensible little girl, -about ten years old, now brought him his tea. He took it, in chucking -her under the chin; which was evidently very annoying to her, as a -little womanly consciousness is just stealing upon her childhood: but, -not heeding that, he again turned to me, and said, ‘Do you know, Miss -Burney, that I intend to run away with Bell? We are going to Scotland -together. She won’t let me rest till I take her to Gretna Green.’ - -“‘La! how can you say so, sir,?’ cried Bell, colouring, and much -fidgetted. ‘Pray, Ma’am, don’t believe it!’ - -“‘Why, how now, Bell?—What! won’t you go?’ - -“‘No, sir, I won’t!’ answered Bell, very demurely. - -“‘Well,’ cried he, with a scoffing smile, and rising, ‘this is the -first lady that ever refused me.’ - -“He then inquired of Mrs. Strange whether she had heard any thing -lately of Lord R., of whom they joined in drawing a most odious -character; especially for his avarice. And when they had finished the -portrait, Mr. Bruce, advancing his great figure towards me, exclaimed, -‘And yet this man is my rival!’ - -“‘Really?’ cried I, hardly knowing what he expected I should say, but -afraid to affront him by a second total silence. - -“‘O, it’s true!’ returned he, in a tone that implied _though not -credible_; ‘Is it not true, Mrs. Strange, that he is my rival?’ - -“‘Troth, they say so,’ answered she, calmly. - -“‘I wonder he should dare!’ cried my mother. ‘I wonder he should not -apprehend that the long residence in Egypt of Mr. Bruce, had made him -so well acquainted with magic, that’— - -“‘O,’ interrupted Mr. Bruce, coolly, ‘I shall not poison him. But I -may bribe his servant to tie a rope across his staircase, on some dark -night, and then, as I dare say the miserly wretch never allows himself -a candle to go up and down stairs, he may get a tumble, and break his -neck.’ - -“This idea set him into a fit of laughter quite merry to behold; and -as I caught, from surprise, a little of its infection, he was again -pleased to address himself to me, and to make inquiry whether I was -musical; expressing his hopes that he should hear me play, when Mrs. -Strange fulfilled her engagement of bringing him to our house; adding, -that he had a passionate love of music. - -“‘I was once,’ said Mrs. Strange, ‘with a young lady, a friend of mine, -when she was at a concert for the first time she ever heard any music, -except nursery lullabys, or street holla-balloos, or perhaps a tune -on a fiddle by some poor blind urchin. And the music was very pretty, -and quite tender; and she liked it so well, it almost made her swoon; -and she could no’ draw her breath; and she thrilled all over; and sat -sighing and groaning, and groaning and sighing, with over-much delight, -till, at last, she burst into a fit of tears, and sobbed out, ‘I can’t -help it!’ - -“‘There’s a woman,’ said Mr. Bruce, with some emotion, ‘who could never -make a man unhappy! Her soul must be all harmony.’ - -“My dear father now arrived; and he and Mr. Bruce talked apart for the -rest of the evening, upon the harp and the letter. - -“But when the carriage was announced, imagine my surprise to see this -majestic personage take it into his fancy to address something to me -almost in a whisper! bending down, with no small difficulty, his head -to a level with mine. What it was I could not hear. Though perhaps -’twas some Abyssinian compliment that I could not understand! It’s -flattery, however, could not have done me much mischief, after Miss -Strange’s information, that, when he is not disposed to be social with -the company at large, he always singles out for notice the youngest -female present—except, indeed, a dog, a bird, a cat, or a squirrel, be -happily at hand. - -“As I had no ‘retort courteous’ ready, he grandly re-erected himself to -the fullest extent of his commanding height; setting me down, I doubt -not, in his black book, for a tasteless imbecile. Every body, however, -as all his motions engage all attention, looked so curious, that my -only gratitude for his condescension, was heartily wishing him at one -of the mouths of his own famous Nile. - -“Will you not wish me there too, my dearest Mr. Crisp, for this long -detail, without one word of said Nile, and its endless sources? or of -Thebes and its hundred gates? or of the two harps of harps that are to -decorate the History of Music? But nothing of all this occurred; except -it might be in his private confab. with my father. - -“You demanded, however, an account of his manner, his air, and his -discourse; and what sort of mode, or fashion, he had brought over from -Ethiopia. - -“And here, so please you, all that is at your feet. - -“I have only to add, that his smile, though rare, is really graceful -and engaging. But his laugh, when his dignity is off its guard, and -some sportive or active mischief comes across his ideas—such as the -image of his miserly rival, Lord R., dangling from a treacherous rope -on his own staircase; or tumbling headlong down,—is a chuckle of -delight that shines his face of a bright scarlet, and shakes his whole -vast frame with a boyish ecstacy. - -“But I forgot to mention, that while Mr. Bruce was philandering with -little Miss Bell Strange, who, with comic childish dignity, resented -his assumed success, he said he believed he had discovered the reason -of her shyness; ‘Somebody has told you, I suppose, Bell, that when I -am taken with a hungry fit in my rambles, I make nothing of seizing -on a young bullock, and tying him by the horns to a tree, while I cut -myself off a raw beef-steak, and regale myself upon it with its own -cold gravy? according to my custom in Abyssinia? Perhaps, Bell, you may -think a young heifer might do as well? and are afraid you might serve -my turn, when my appetite is rather keen, yourself? Eh, Bell?’ - - * * * * * - -“You have accepted Meeting the First with so much indulgence, my dear -Mr. Crisp, that I am all alertness for presenting you with - - -MEETING THE SECOND, - -which took place not long after the First, already recorded in these my -elaborate annals. - -“My father invited Mr. Twining, the great Grecian, to said meeting. -What a contrast did he form with Mr. Bruce, the great Ethiopian! I have -already described Mr. Twining to you, though very inadequately; for he -is so full of merits, it is not easy to find proper phrases for him. -There is only our dear Mr. Crisp whom we like and love half as well. - -“Mr. Twining, with all his excellencies,—and he is reckoned one of the -first scholars living; and is now engaged in translating Aristotle,—is -as modest and unassuming as Mr. Bruce is high and pompous. He came very -early, frankly owning, with a sort of piteous shrug, that he really -had not bronze to present himself when the party should be assembled, -before so eminent, but tremendous a man, as report painted Mr. Bruce; -though he was extremely gratified to nestle himself into a corner, as a -private spectator. - -“Mrs. Strange, with her daughter, arrived next; and told us that his -Abyssinian Majesty, as she calls Mr. Bruce, had dined at General -Melville’s, but would get away as quickly as possible. - -“We waited tea, in our old-fashioned manner, a full hour; but no Mr. -Bruce. So then we—or rather I—made it. And we all united to drink it. -There, Sir; there’s another event for you! - -“Mr. Twining entreated that we might no longer postpone the concert, -and was leading the way to the library, where it was to be held; but -just then, a thundering rap at the door raised our expectations, and -stopt our steps;—and Mr. Bruce was announced. - -“He entered the room with the state and dignity of a tragedy giant. - -“We soon found that something had displeased him, and that he was -very much out of humour: and when Mrs. Strange inquired after General -Melville, he answered her, with a face all made up of formidable -frowns, that the General had invited a most stupid set of people to -meet him. He had evidently left the party with disgust. Perhaps they -had asked him whether there were any real men and women in Abyssinia, -or only bullocks and heifers. - -“He took his tea in stern silence, without deigning to again open his -lips, till it was to demand a private conference with my father. They -then went together to the study,—erst Sir Isaac Newton’s—which is -within the library. - -“In passing through the latter, they encountered Mr. Twining, who -would hastily have shrunk back; but my father immediately, and with -distinction to Mr. Twining, performed the ceremony of introduction. -Mr. Bruce gravely bowed, and went on; and he was then shut up with my -father at least an hour, in full discussion upon the Theban harp, and -the letter for the history. - -“Mr. Twining returned, softly and on tiptoe, to the drawing room; and -advancing to Mrs. Strange and my mother, with uplifted hands and eyes, -exclaimed, ‘This is the most awful man I ever saw!—I never felt so -little in all my life!’ - -“‘Well, troth,’ said Mrs. Strange, ‘never mind! If you were six feet -high he would overlook you; and he can do no more now.’ - -“Mr. Twining then, to recover breath he said, sat down, but declared -he was in fear of his life; ‘for if Mr. Bruce,’ he cried, ‘should come -in hastily, and, not perceiving such a pitiful Lilliputian, should -take the chair to be empty—it will soon be over with me! I shall be -jammed in a moment—while he will think he is only dropping down upon a -cushion!’ - -“As the study confab. seemed to menace duration, Mr. Twining petitioned -Mr. Burney to go to the piano-forte; where he fired away in a voluntary -with all the astonishing powers of his execution, and all the vigour of -his genius. - -“He might well be animated by such an auditor as Mr. Twining, who -cannot be a deeper Grecian than he is a refined musician. How happy -is my dear father that the three best, and dearest, and wisest, of -his friends, should be three of the most scientific judges of his own -art,—Mr. Twining, Mr. Bewley, and Mr. Crisp. - -“Dear me! how came that last name into my head? I beg your pardon a -thousand times. It was quite by accident. A mere slip of the pen. - -“Mr. Twining, astonished, delighted, uttered the warmest praises, with -all his heart; but that fervent effusion over, dropped his voice into -its lowest key, to add, with a look full of arch pleasantry, ‘Now, is -not this better than being tall?’ - -“My poor sister, Burney, was not quite well, and had a hurt on one of -her fingers. But though she could not exert herself to play a solo, she -consented to take her part in the noble duet for the piano-forte of -Müthel; and she was no sooner seated, than Mr. Bruce re-appeared in our -horizon. - -“You well know that enchanting composition, which never has been more -perfectly executed. - -“Mr. Twining was enraptured; Mrs. Strange listened in silent wonder and -pleasure; and Mr. Bruce himself was drawn into a charmed attention. -His air lost its fierceness; his features relaxed into smiles; and -good humour and complacency turned pride, sternness, and displeasure, -out of his phiz. - -“I begin now to think I have perhaps been too criticising upon poor -man-mountain; and that, when he is not in the way of provocation to -his vanity, he may be an amiable, as well as an agreeable man. But -I suppose his giant-form, which makes every thing around him seem -diminutive, has given him a notion that he was born to lord it over -the rest of mankind; which, peradventure, seems to him a mere huddle -of Lilliputians, as unfit to cope with him, mentally, in discourse, as -corporeally in a wrestling match. - -“Mr. Twining had been invited to supper; and as it now grew very late, -my mother made the invitation general; which, to our great surprise, -Mr. Bruce was the first to accept. Who, then, could start any objection? - -“So softened had he been by the music, that he was become all courtesy. -Nobody else was listened to, or looked at; and as he scarcely ever -deigns to look at any body himself, he is a primary object for peering -at. - -“The conversation turned upon disorders of the senses; for Mrs. Strange -has a female friend who is seized with them, from time to time, as -other people might be seized with an ague. She had been on a visit -at the house of Mrs. Strange, the day before, where she had met Mr. -Bruce. When it was perceived that a fit of the disorder was coming on, -Miss Strange took her home; for which extraordinary courage Mr. Bruce -greatly blamed her. - -“‘How,’ said he, ‘could you be sure of your life for a single moment? -Suppose she had thought proper to run a pair of scissors into your -eyes? Or had taken a fancy to cutting off one of your ears?’ - -“Miss Strange replied, that she never feared, for she always knew how -to manage her. - -“Mr. Bruce then inquired what had been the first symptom she had shewn -of the return of her malady? - -“Mrs. Strange answered, that the beginning of her wandering that -evening, had been by abruptly coming up to her, and asking her whether -she could make faces? - -“‘I wish,’ said Mr. Bruce, ‘she had asked me! I believe I could have -satisfied her pretty well that way!’ - -“‘O, she had a great desire to speak to you, sir,’ said Miss Strange, -‘she told me she had a great deal to say to you.’ - -“‘If,’ said Mr. Bruce, ‘she had come up to me, without any preface, and -made faces at me,—I confess I should have been rather surprised!’ - -“‘Troth,’ said Mrs. Strange, ‘if we are not upon our guard, we are all -of us mad when we are contradicted! for we are all of us so witty, in -our own ideas, that we think every mon out of his head that does not -see with our eyes. But when I tried to hold her, poor little soul, from -running into the street, while we were waiting for the coach, she gave -me such a violent scratch on the arm, that I piteously called out for -help. See! here’s the mark.’ - -“‘Did she fetch blood,’ cried Mr. Bruce, in a tone of alarm; ‘if she -did, you will surely go out of your own senses before a fortnight will -be over! You may depend upon that! If you are bit by a wild cat, you -will undoubtedly become crazy; and how much more if you are scratched -by a crack-brained woman? I would advise you to go forthwith to the -sea, and be well dipped. I assure you fairly I would not be in your -situation.’ - -“I thought this so shocking, that I felt a serious impulse to -expostulate with his giantship upon it myself, and _almost_ the -courage; but, whether perceiving my horror, or only imagining it, I -cannot tell; he deigned to turn his magnificent countenance full upon -me, to display that he was laughing. And he afterwards added, that he -knew there was nothing in this case that was any way dangerous; though -how he obtained the knowledge he kept to himself. - -“My mother then expressed her hopes that the poor lady might not, -meanwhile, be removed to a private asylum; as in these repositories, -the patients were said to be goaded on to become worse, every time a -friend or a physician was expected to visit them; purposely to lengthen -the poor sufferer’s detention. - -“‘Indeed!’ cried Mr. Bruce, knitting his brows, ‘why this is very bad -encouragement to going out of one’s senses!’ - -“The rest of the conversation was wholly upon this subject; and so, -as I know you hate the horrors, I must bid good night to Meeting the -Second with his Abyssinian Majesty. - -“The _tête à tête_ in the study had been entirely upon the two -drawings; and in settling the points upon which Mr. Bruce had best -expatiate in his descriptive and historical epistle. - -“My father has great satisfaction in being the first to bring forth -the drawings and the writings of this far-famed traveller before the -public. The only bad thing was, that it kept him away from us all -supper-time, to put down the communications he had received, and the -hints he wished to give for more. - -“Mr. Twining, too, wrapt himself up in his own observations, and would -not speak—except by his eyes, which had a comic look, extremely -diverting, of pretended fearful insignificance. - - * * * * * - -“Well, now, my dear Sir, to - - -MEETING THE THIRD. - -“It was produced by a visit from Mrs. Strange, with a petition from his -Majesty of Abyssinia for another musical evening; as he had spoken with -so much rapture of the last to Mr. Nesbit, a great _amateur_, ‘that -the poor honest lad,’ Mrs. Strange said, ‘could no’ sleep o’ nights -from impatience to be inoculated with the same harmony, to prevent the -infection Mr. Bruce carried about with him from doing him a mischief.’ - -“Well, the time was fixed, and the evening proved so agreeable, that -we heartily and continually wished our dear Mr. Crisp amongst us. Mr. -Twining, too, was gone. All one likes best go quickest. - -“The first who arrived was Mr. Solly. He, also, is a great traveller, -though not a renowned one; for nothing less than the Nile, and no place -short of Abyssinia, will do, at present, for the taste of the public. -My father had met with Mr. Solly at four several cities in Italy, and -all accidentally; namely, Bologna, Florence, Rome, and Naples. Since -that time, Mr. Solly has been wandering to many more remote places; and -at Alexandria, and at Grand Cairo, he had met with Mr. Bruce. He is a -chatty, lively man; and not at all wanting in marks of his foreign -excursions, _i.e._ shrugs, jerks, and gestures. John Bull, you know, my -dear Mr. Crisp, when left to himself, is so torpid a sort of figure, -with his arms slung so lank to his sides, that, at a little distance, -one might fancy him without any such limb. While the Italians and -French make such a flourishing display of its powers, that I verily -believe it quickens circulation, and helps to render them so much more -vivacious than philosopher Johnny. - -“Yet I love Johnny best, for all that; as well as honour him the most; -only I often wish he was a little more entertaining. - -“Mr. Solly and my father ‘fought all their battles o’er again’ through -Italy; and kept fighting them on till the arrival of Dr. Russel, a -learned, and likewise a travelled physician, who seems droll and -clever; but who is so very short-sighted, that even my father and I see -further a-field. He loses nothing, however, through this infirmity, -that trouble can supply; for he peers in every body’s face at least -a minute, to discover whether or not he knows them; and, after that, -he peers a minute or two more, to discover, I suppose, whether or not -he likes them. Yet, without boldness. ’Tis merely a look of earnest -investigation, which he bestowed, in turn, upon every one present, as -they came in his way; never fastening his eyes, even for an instant, -upon the ground, the fire, the wainscot, or any thing inanimate, but -always upon the ‘human face divine.’ - -“He, also, is another travelled friend of Mr. Bruce, whom he knew at -Aleppo, where Dr. Russel resided some years.[49] - -“Then came Mrs. and Miss Strange, and his Abyssinian majesty, with -his companion, Mr. Nesbit, who is a young Scotchman of distinction, -infinitely _fade_, conceited, and coxcombical. He spoke very little, -except to Mr. Bruce, and that, very politely, in a whisper. I cannot at -all imagine what could provoke this African monarch to introduce such a -fop here. We heartily wished him back in his own quarters; or at least -at ‘the Orkneys,’ or at ‘the Lord knows where.’ - -“Mr. Bruce himself was in the most perfect good-humour; all civility -and pleasantry; and his smiles seemed to give liberty for general ease. - -“Having paid his compliments to my mother, he addressed himself to -my sister Burney, inquiring courteously after her finger, which Miss -Strange had told him she had hurt. - -“‘Mrs. Burney’s fingers,’ cried Dr. Russel, snatching at the -opportunity for a good gaze, not upon her finger, but her phiz, ‘ought -to be exempt from all evil.’ - -“Your Hettina smiled, and assured them it was almost well. - -“‘O, I prayed to Apollo,’ cried Mr. Bruce, ‘for its recovery, and he -has heard my prayer.’ - -“‘I have no doubt, sir,’ said Hetty, ‘of your influence with Apollo.’ - -“‘I ought to have some, Madam,’ answered he grandly, ‘for I have been a -slave to him all my life!’” - -“He then came to hope that I should open the concert; speaking to me -with just such an encouraging sort of smile as if I had been about -eleven years old; and strongly admonishing me not to delay coming -forward at once, as he was prepared for no common pleasure in listening -to me. - -“Next he advanced to Susanna, begging her to exhibit her talent; and -telling her he had had a dream, that if she refused to play, some -great misfortune would befall him. - -“When he had gone through this little circle of gallantry, to his own -apparent satisfaction, he suffered Mr. Nesbit to seize upon him for -another whispering dialogue; in which, as Mrs. Strange has since told -my mother, that pretty swain lamented that he must soon run away, a -certain lady of quality having taken such an unaccountable fancy to him -at the opera of the preceding night, that she had appointed him to be -with her this evening _tête à tête_! - -“Mr. Bruce gave so little credit to this _bonne fortune_, that he -laughed aloud in relating it to Mrs. Strange. - -“Mr. Bruce then called upon Dr. Russel to take a violin, saying he was -a very fine performer; but adding, ‘We used to disgrace his talents, -I own, at Aleppo; for, having no blind fiddler at hand, we kept him -playing country dances by the hour.’ - -“Dr. Russel mentioned some town _in those parts_, Asia or Africa, where -a concert, upon occasion of a marriage, lasted three days. - -“‘Three days?’ repeated Mr. Bruce; ‘why marriage is a more formidable -thing there than even here!’ - -“Then came music, and the incomparable duet; which, as they could not -forbear encoring, filled up all the rest of the evening, till the -company at large departed; for there were several persons present whom -I have not mentioned, being of no zest for your notice. - -“Mr. Bruce, however, with the Stranges, again consented to stay supper; -which, you know, with us, is nothing but a permission to sit over a -table for chat, and roast potatoes, or apples. - -“But now, to perfect your acquaintance with this towering Ethiopian, -where do you think he will take you during supper? - -“To the source, or sources, you cry, of the Nile? to Thebes? to its -temple? to an arietta on the Theban Harp? or, perhaps, to banquetting -on hot raw beef in Abyssinia? - -“No such thing, my dear Mr. Crisp, no such thing. Travellers who mean -to write their travels, are fit for nothing but to represent the gap at -your whist table at Chesington, when you have only three players; for -they are mere dummies. - -“Mr. Bruce left all his exploits, his wanderings, his vanishings, -his re-appearances, his harps so celestial, and his bullocks so -terrestrial, to plant all our entertainment within a hundred yards of -our own coterie; namely, at the masquerades at the Haymarket. - -“Thus it was. He inquired of Mrs. Strange where he could find Mrs. -Twoldham, a lady of his acquaintance; a very fine woman, but remarkably -dissipated, whom he wished to see. - -“‘Troth,’ Mrs. Strange answered, ‘she did not know; but if he would -take a turn to a masquerade or two, he would be sure to light upon her, -as she never missed one.’ - -“‘What,’ cried he, laughing, ‘has she not had enough yet of -masquerades? Brava, Mrs. Twoldham! I honour your spirit.’ - -“He then laughed so cordially, that we were tempted, by such -extraordinary good-humour, to beg him, almost in a body, to permit us -to partake of his mirth. - -“He complied very gaily. ‘A friend of mine,’ he cried, ‘before I went -abroad, had so often been teazed to esquire her to some of these -medleys, that he thought to give the poor woman a surfeit of them to -free himself from her future importunity. Yet she was a very handsome -woman, very handsome indeed. But just as they were going into the -great room, he had got one of her visiting cards ready, and contrived, -as they passed through a crowded passage, to pin to the back of her -robe, Mrs. Twoldham, Wimpole Street. And not three steps had she tript -forward, before some one called out: “Hah! Mrs. Twoldham! how do you -do, Mrs. Twoldham?”—“Oho, Mrs. Twoldham, are you here?” cried another; -“Well, Ma’am, and how do all friends in Wimpole Street do?” till the -poor woman was half out of her wits, to know how so many people had -discovered her. So she thought that perhaps her forehead was in sight, -and she perked up her mask; but she did not less hear, “Ah! it’s -you, Mrs. Twoldham, is it?” Then she supposed she had left a peep at -her chin, and down again was tugged the poor mask; but still, “Mrs. -Twoldham!” and, “how do you do, my dear Mrs. Twoldham?” was rung in -her ears at every step; till at last, she took it into her head that -some one, who, by chance, had detected her, had sent her name round -the room; so she hurried off like lightning to the upper suite of -apartments. But ’twas all the same. “Well, I declare, if here is not -Mrs. Twoldham!” cries the first person that passed her. “So she is, I -protest,” cried another; “I am very glad to see you, my dear Ma’am! -what say you to giving me a little breakfast to-morrow morning? you -know where, Mrs. Twoldham; at our old haunt in Wimpole Street.” But, at -last, the corner of an unlucky table rubbed off the visiting card; and -a waiter, who picked it up, grinned from ear to ear, and asked whether -it was hers. And the poor woman fell into such a trance of passion, -that my friend was afraid for his eyes; and all the more, because, do -what he would, he could not refrain from laughing in her face.’ - -“You can scarcely conceive how heartily he laughed himself; he quite -chuckled, with all the enjoyment in mischief of a holiday school boy. - -“And he harped upon the subject with such facetious pleasure, that no -other could be started. - -“‘I once knew,’ he cried, ‘a man, his name was Robert Chambers, and a -good-natured little fellow he was, who was served this very trick the -first masquerade he went to in London, upon fresh coming from Scotland. -A gentleman who went to it with him, wrote upon his black domino, with -chalk, “this is little Bob Chambers, fresh come from Edinburgh;” and -immediately some one called out, in passing him, “What Bob? little -Bob Chambers? how do, my boy?” “Faith,” says Bob, to his friend, -“the people of this fine London are pretty impudent! I don’t know that -I know a soul in the whole town, and the first person I meet makes -free to call me plain Bob?” But when he went on, and found that every -creature in every room did the same, he grew quite outrageous at being -treated with so little ceremony; and he stamped with his foot at one, -and clenched his fist at another, and asked how they dared call him -Bob? “What! a’n’t you Bob, then?” replies one; “O yes, you are! you’re -Bob, my Bob, as sure as a gun! Bob Chambers! little Bob Chambers. And -I hope you have left all well at Edinburgh, my Bob?” In vain he rubbed -by them, and tried to get on, for they called to him quite from a -distance; “Bob!—Bob! come hither, I say!—come hither, my Bobby! my -Bob of all Bobs! you’re welcome from Edinburgh, my Bob!” Well, then, -he said, ’twas clear the devil owed him a spite, and had told his name -from top to bottom of every room. Poor Bob! he made a wry face at the -very sound of a masquerade to the end of his days.’ - -“To have looked at Mr. Bruce in his glee at this buffoonery, you must -really have been amused; though methinks I see, supposing you had been -with us, the picturesque rising of your brow, and all the dignity of -your Roman nose, while you would have stared at such familiar delight -in an active joke, as to transport into so merry an _espiegle_, the -seven-footed loftiness of the haughty and imperious tourist from the -sands of Ethiopia, and the waters of Abyssinia; whom, nevertheless, -I have now the honour to portray in his _robe de chambre_, i.e. in -private society, to my dear Chesington Daddy. - -“What says he to the portrait?” - -With fresh pleasure and alacrity, Dr. Burney now went on with his work. -So unlooked for a re-inforcement of his means could not have arrived -more seasonably. Every discovery, or development, relative to early -times, was not only of essential service to the Dissertation on the -Music of the Ancients, upon which, now, he was elaborately engaged, but -excited general curiosity in all lovers of antiquity. - - -SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. - -Amongst other new friends that this new neighbourhood procured, or -confirmed, to Dr. Burney, there was one of so congenial, so Samaritan, -a sort, that neighbour he must have been to the Doctor from the time of -their first acquaintance, had his residence been in Dorset-square, or -at Botolph’s Wharf; instead of Leicester-square, and scarcely twenty -yards from the Doctor’s own short street. - -Sir Joshua Reynolds, this good Samaritan, was, like Dr. Burney, though -well-read and deeply studious, as easy and natural in discourse as if -he had been merely a man of the world; and though his own art was -his passion, he was open to the warmest admiration of every other: -and again, like the Doctor, he was gay though contemplative, and flew -from indolence, though he courted enjoyment. There was a striking -resemblance in the general amenity of their intercourse, that not only -made them, at all times, and with all persons, free from any approach -to envy, peevishness, or sarcasm themselves, but seemed to spread -around them a suavity that dissolved those angry passions in others. - -In his chronological doggrels, Dr. Burney records that he now began his -intimacy with the great English Raphael; of whom he adds, - - “’Twere vain throughout Europe to look for his peer - Who by converse and pencil alike can endear.” - - -MRS. REYNOLDS. - -Sir Joshua had a maiden sister, Mrs. Frances Reynolds; a woman of worth -and understanding, but of a singular character; who, unfortunately for -herself, made, throughout life, the great mistake of nourishing that -singularity which was her bane, as if it had been her blessing. - -She lived with Sir Joshua at this time, and stood high in the regard -of his firm and most honoured friend, Dr. Johnson; who saw and pitied -her foible, but tried to cure it in vain. It was that of living in an -habitual perplexity of mind, and irresolution of conduct, which to -herself was restlessly tormenting, and to all around her was teazingly -wearisome. - -Whatever she suggested, or planned, one day, was reversed the next; -though resorted to on the third, as if merely to be again rejected on -the fourth; and so on, almost endlessly; for she rang not the changes -in her opinions and designs in order to bring them into harmony and -practice; but waveringly to stir up new combinations and difficulties; -till she found herself in the midst of such chaotic obstructions as -could chime in with no given purpose; but must needs be left to ring -their own peal, and to begin again just where they began at first. - -This lady was a no unfrequent visitor in St. Martin’s-street; where, -for her many excellent qualities, she was much esteemed. - -The Miss Palmers,[50] also, two nieces of Sir Joshua, lived with -him then occasionally; and one of them, afterwards, habitually; and -added to the grace of his table, and of his evening circles, by the -pleasingness of their manners, and the beauty of their persons. - -Mrs. Frances Reynolds desired to paint Dr. Burney’s portrait, that she -might place it among certain other worthies of her choice, already -ornamenting her dressing-room. The Doctor had little time to spare; -but had too natively the spirit of the old school, to suffer No! and a -lady, to pair off together. - -During his sittings, one trait of her tenacious humour occurred, that -he was always amused in relating. While she was painting his hair, -which was remarkably thick, she asked him, very gravely, whether he -could let her have his wig some day to work at, without troubling him -to sit. - -“My wig?” repeated he, much surprised. - -“Yes;” she answered; “have not you more than one? can’t you spare it?” - -“Spare it?—Why what makes you think it a wig? It’s my own hair.” - -“O then, I suppose,” said she, with a smile, “I must not call it a -wig?” - -“Not call it a wig?—why what for, my clear Madam, should you call it a -wig?” - -“Nay, Sir,” replied she, composedly, “if you do not like it, I am sure -I won’t.” - -And he protested, that though he offered her every proof of twisting, -twitching, and twirling that she pleased, she calmly continued -painting, without heeding his appeal for the hairy honours of his head; -and only coolly repeating, “I suppose, then, I must not call it a wig?” - - -MRS. BROOKES. - -Mrs. Brookes, authoress of “Lady Julia Mandeville,” &c., having -become a joint proprietor of the Opera House with Mr. and Mrs. Yates, -earnestly coveted the acquaintance of Dr. Burney; in which, of course, -was included the benefit of his musical opinions, his skill, and his -counsel. - -Mrs. Brookes had much to combat in order to receive the justice due to -her from the world; for nature had not been more kind in her mental, -than hard in her corporeal gifts. She was short, broad, crooked, -ill-featured, and ill-favoured; and she had a cast of the eye that -made it seem looking every way rather than that which she meant -for its direction. Nevertheless, she always ultimately obtained the -consideration that she merited. She was free from pretension, and -extremely good-natured. All of assumption, by which she might have -claimed literary rank, from the higher and graver part of her works, -was wholly set aside in conversation; where, however different in grace -and appearance, she was as flowing, as cheerful, and as natural in -dialogue, as her own popular and pleasing “Rosina.”[51] - - -MISS REID. - -Miss Reid, the Rosalba of Britain, who, in crayons, had a grace and a -softness of colouring rarely surpassed, was a visitor likewise at the -house, whose works and whose person were almost divertingly, as was -remarked by Mr. Twining, at variance with one another; for while the -works were all loveliness, their author was saturnine, cold, taciturn; -absent to an extreme; awkward and full of mischances in every motion; -ill-accoutred, even beyond negligence, in her dress; and plain enough -to produce, grotesquely, an effect that was almost picturesque. - -Yet, with all this outward lack of allurement, her heart was kind, her -temper was humane, and her friendships were zealous. But she had met -with some misfortunes in early life that had embittered her existence, -and kept it always wavering, in a miserable balance, between heartless -apathy, and pining discontent. - - -MRS. ORD. - -An acquaintance was now, also, begun, with one of the most valued, -valuable, and lasting friends of Dr. Burney and his family, Mrs. Ord; a -lady of great mental merit, strict principles, and dignified manners. - -Without belonging to what was called the Blues, or _Bas Bleu_ Society, -except as a receiver or a visitor, she selected parties from that set -to mix with those of other, or of no denomination, that were sometimes -peculiarly well assorted, and were always generally agreeable. - -Mrs. Ord’s was the first coterie into which the Doctor, after his -abode in St. Martin’s-Street, initiated his family; Mrs. Burney as -a participator, his daughters as appendages, of what might justly be -called a _conversatione_. - -The good sense, serene demeanour, and cheerful politeness of the lady -of the house, made the first meeting so pleasingly animating to every -one present, that another and another followed, from time to time, for -a long series of years. What Dr. Burney observed upon taking leave of -this first little assemblage, may be quoted as applicable to every -other. - -“I rejoice, Madam,” he said, “to find that there are still two or three -houses, even in these dissipated times, where, through judgment and -taste in their selection, people may be called together, not with the -aid of cards, to kill time, but with that of conversation, to give it -life.” - -“And I rejoice the more in the success of Mrs. Ord,” cried Mr. -Pepys,[52] “because I have known many meetings utterly fail, where -equal pleasure has been proposed and expected; but where, though the -ingredients, also, have been equally good—the pudding has proved very -bad in the eating!” - -“The best ingredients,” said Dr. Burney, “however excellent they -may be separately, always prove inefficient if they are not well -blended; for if any one of them is a little too sour, or a little too -bitter—nay, or a little too sweet, they counteract each other. But -Mrs. Ord is an excellent cook, and employs all the refinements of her -art in taking care not to put clashing materials into the same mess.” - - -HON. MR. BRUDENEL. - -His Honour, Brudenel,[53] loved and sought Dr. Burney with the most -faithful admiration from a very early period; and, to the latest in -his power, he manifested the same partiality. Though by no means a man -of talents, he made his way to the grateful and lasting regard of Dr. -Burney, by constancy of personal attachment, and a fervour of devotion -to the art through which the distinction of the Doctor had had its -origin. - -Dr. Ogle, Dean of Winchester,[54] a man of facetious pleasantry, yet -of real sagacity; though mingled with eccentricities, perversities, -and decidedly republican principles, became a warm admirer of the -character and conversation of the Doctor; while the exemplary Mrs. -Ogle and her sprightly daughters united to enliven his reception, in -Berkeley-square, as an honoured instructor, and a cordial friend. - -But with far more political congeniality the President of the Royal -Society, Sir Joseph Banks, was included in this new amical committee. - -In a loose manuscript of recurrence to the year 1776, stand these words -upon the first Dr. Warren. - - “In January of this year, an acquaintance which I had already - begun with that most agreeable of men, Dr. Warren, grew - into intimacy. His conversation was the most pleasant, and, - nearly, the most enlightened, without pedantry or dogmatism, - that I had ever known.” - -Amongst the distinguished persons appertaining to this numerous list of -connexions upon the opening of the St. Martin’s-street residence during -the last century, one, at least, still remains to ornament, both by his -writings and his conversation, the present, Dr. Gillies; whose urbanity -of mind and manners, joined to his literary merits, made him, at his -own pleasure, one of the most estimable and honourable contributors to -the Doctor’s social circle. - - -MR. CUTLER. - -But the most prominent in eagerness to claim the Doctor’s regard, and -to fasten upon his time, with wit, humour, learning, and eccentric -genius, that often made him pleasant, and always saved him from -becoming insignificant; though with an officious zeal, and an obtrusive -kindness that frequently caused him to be irksome, must be ranked Mr. -Cutler, a gentleman of no common parts, and certainly of no common -conduct; who loved Dr. Burney with an ardour the most sincere, but -which he had not attraction to make reciprocal; who wrote him letters -of a length interminable, yet with a frequency of repetition that would -have rendered even little billets wearisome; and who, satisfied of the -truth of his feelings, investigated not their worth, and never doubted -their welcome. - -The Doctor had a heart too grateful and too gentle to roughly awaken -such friendship from its error; he endured, therefore, its annoyance, -till the intrusion upon his limited leisure became a serious -persecution. He then, almost perforce, sought to render him more -considerate by neglect, in wholly omitting to answer his letters. - -But Mr. Cutler, though hurt and chagrined, was not quieted. Letter -still followed letter, detailing at full length his own ideas upon -every subject he could start; with kind assurances of his determined -patient expectance of future replies. - -The Doctor then was reduced to frankly offer a remonstrance upon the -difference of their position with respect to time,—and its claims. - -This, though done with softness and delicacy, opened all at once the -eyes of this pertinacious friend to his unreflecting insufficiency; -but, of course, rather with a feeling of injury, than to a sense of -justice; and he withdrew abruptly from all correspondence; powerfully -piqued, yet in silent, uncomplaining dismay. - -To give an idea of his singular style, some few extracts, of the most -uncommon sort, will be selected for the correspondence, from the vast -volume of letters that will be consigned to the flames.[55] - - -MR. BARRY. - -The most striking, however, though by no means the most reasonable -converser amongst those who generally volunteered their colloquial -services in St. Martin’s-street, was that eminent painter, and -entertaining character, Mr. Barry; who, with a really innocent belief -that he was the most modest and moderate of men, nourished the most -insatiable avidity of applause; who, with a loudly laughing defiance of -the ills of life, was internally and substantially sinking under their -annoyance; and who, with a professed and sardonic contempt of rival -prosperity or superiority, disguised, even to himself, the bitterness -with which he pined at the success which he could not share, but to -which he flattered himself that he was indifferent, or above; because -so to be, behoved the character of his believed adoption, that of a -genuine votary to philanthropy and philosophy. - -His ideas and his views of his art he held, and justly, to be sublime; -but his glaring execution of the most chaste designs left his practice -in the lurch, even where his theory was most perfect. - -He disdained to catch any hints from the works, much less from the -counsel, of Sir Joshua Reynolds; from whose personal kindness and -commanding abilities he had unfortunately been cut off by early -disagreement; for nearly as they approached each other in their ideas, -and their knowledge of their art, their process, in cultivating their -several talents, had as little accord, as their method of organizing -their intellectual attributes and characters. And, indeed, the -inveterate dissension of Barry with Sir Joshua Reynolds, must always -be in his own disfavour, though his harder fate must mingle pity with -censure—little thankfully as his high spirit would have accepted -such a species of mitigation. It is not, however, probable, that the -fiery Mr. Barry should have received from the serene and candid Sir -Joshua, the opening provocation; Sir Joshua, besides his unrivalled -professional merits,[56] had a negative title to general approbation, -that included many an affirmative one; “Sir Joshua Reynolds,” said Dr. -Johnson,[57] “possesses the largest share of inoffensiveness of any man -that I know.” - -Yet Mr. Barry had many admirable as well as uncommon qualities. His -moral sentiments were liberal, nay, noble; he was full fraught, almost -bursting with vigorous genius; and his eccentricities, both in manner -and notions, made his company generally enlightening, and always -original and entertaining. - - -GARRICK. - -The regret that stood next, or, rather, that stood alone with Dr. -Burney, to that of losing the pure air and bright view of Hampstead -and Highgate, by this change to St. Martin’s-street, was missing the -frequency of the visits of Mr. Garrick; to whom the Queen-Square of -that day was so nearly out of town, that to arrive at it on foot had -almost the refreshment of a country walk. - -St. Martin’s-street, on the contrary, was situated in the populous -closeness of the midst of things; and not a step could Garrick take in -its vicinity, without being recognised and stared at, if not pursued -and hailed, by all the common herd of his gallery admirers; those gods -to whom so often he made his fond appeal; and who formed, in fact, a -principal portion of his fame, and, consequently, of his happiness, by -the honest tribute of their vociferous plaudits. - -Nevertheless, these jovial gods, though vivifying to him from their -high abode, and in a mass, at the theatre, must, in partial groups, -from the exertions he could never refrain from making to keep alive -with almost whatever was living, his gay popularity, be seriously -fatiguing, by crowding about him in narrow streets, dirty crossings, -and awkward nooks and corners, such as then abounded in that part of -the town; though still his buoyant spirits, glowing and unequalled, -retained their elastic pleasure in universal admiration. - -An instance of this preponderating propensity greatly diverted Dr. -Burney, upon the first visit of Mr. Garrick to St. Martin’s-street. - -This visit was very matinal; and a new housemaid, who was washing the -steps of the door, and did not know him, offered some resistance to -letting him enter the house unannounced: but, grotesquely breaking -through her attempted obstructions, he forcibly ascended the stairs, -and rushed into the Doctor’s study; where his voice, in some mock -heroics to the damsel, alone preceded him. - -Here he found the Doctor immersed in papers, manuscripts, and books, -though under the hands of his hair-dresser; while one of his daughters -was reading a newspaper to him;[58] another was making his tea,[59] -and another was arranging his books.[60] - -The Doctor, beginning a laughing apology for the literary and littered -state of his apartment, endeavoured to put things a little to rights, -that he might present his ever welcome guest with a vacated chair. But -Mr. Garrick, throwing himself plumply into one that was well-cushioned -with pamphlets and memorials, called out: “Ay, do now, Doctor, be in a -little confusion! whisk your matters all out of their places; and don’t -know where to find a thing that you want for the rest of the day;—and -that will make us all comfortable!” - -The Doctor now, laughingly leaving his disorder to take care of itself, -resumed his place on the stool; that the furniture of his head might go -through its proper repairs. - -Mr. Garrick then, assuming a solemn gravity, with a profound air of -attention, fastened his eyes upon the hair-dresser; as if wonder-struck -at his amazing skill in decorating the Doctor’s _tête_. - -The man, highly gratified by such notice from the celebrated Garrick, -briskly worked on, frizzing, curling, powdering, and pasting, according -to the mode of the day, with assiduous, though flurried importance, and -with marked self-complacency. - -Mr. Garrick himself had on what he called his scratch wig; which was so -uncommonly ill-arranged and frightful, that the whole family agreed no -one else could have appeared in such a plight in the public streets, -without a risk of being hooted at by the mob. - -He dropt now all parley whatsoever with the Doctor, not even answering -what he said; and seemed wholly absorbed in admiring watchfulness of -the progress of the hair-dresser; putting on, by degrees, with a power -like transformation, a little mean face of envy and sadness, such as he -wore in representing Abel Drugger; which so indescribably altered his -countenance, as to make his young admirers almost mingle incredulity -of his individuality with their surprise and amusement; for, with his -mouth hanging stupidly open, he fixed his features in so vacant an -absence of all expression, that he less resembled himself than some -daubed wooden block in a barber’s shop window. - -The Doctor, perceiving the metamorphosis, smiled in silent observance. -But the friseur, who at first had smirkingly felt flattered at seeing -his operations thus curiously remarked, became utterly discountenanced -by so incomprehensible a change, and so unremitting a stare; and hardly -knew what he was about. The more, however, he pomatumed and powdered, -and twisted the Doctor’s curls, the more palpable were the signs that -Mr. Garrick manifested of - - “Wonder with a foolish face of praise;” - -till, little by little, a species of consternation began to mingle with -the embarrassment of the hair-manufacturer. Mr. Garrick then, suddenly -starting up, gawkily perked his altered physiognomy, with the look of a -gaping idiot, full in the man’s face. - -Scared and confounded, the perruquier now turned away his eyes, and -hastily rolled up two curls, with all the speed in his power, to make -his retreat. But before he was suffered to escape, Mr. Garrick, lifting -his own miserable scratch from his head, and perching it high up in the -air upon his finger and thumb, dolorously, in a whining voice, squeaked -out, “Pray now, Sir, do you think, Sir, you could touch me up this here -old bob a little bit, Sir?” - -The man now, with open eyes, and a broad grin, scampered pell-mell -out of the room; hardly able to shut the door, ere an uncontrollable -horse-laugh proclaimed his relieved perception of Mr. Garrick’s -mystification. - -Mr. Garrick then, looking smilingly around him at the group, which, -enlarged by his first favourite young Charles, most smilingly met his -arch glances, sportively said, “And so, Doctor, you, with your tag rag -and bobtail there—” - -Here he pointed to some loaded shelves of shabby unbound old books -and pamphlets, which he started up to recognise, in suddenly assuming -the air of a smart, conceited, underling auctioneer; and rapping with -his cane upon all that were most worn and defaced, he sputtered out: -“A penny a-piece! a penny a-piece! a-going! a-going! a-going! a penny -a-piece! each worth a pound!—not to say a hundred! a rare bargain, -gemmen and ladies! a rare bargain! down with your copper!” - -Then, quietly re-seating himself, “And so, Doctor,” he continued, -“you, and tag-rag and bobtail, there, shut yourself up in this snug -little book-stall, with all your blithe elves around you, to rest your -understanding?” - -Outcries now of “Oh fie!” “Oh abominable!” “Rest his understanding? -how shocking!” were echoed in his ears with mock indignancy from the -mock-offended set, accompanied by hearty laughter from the Doctor. - -Up rose Mr. Garrick, with a look of pretended perturbation, -incoherently exclaiming, “You mistake—you quite misconceive—you do, -indeed! pray be persuaded of it!—I only meant—I merely intended—be -sure of that!—be very sure of that!—I only purposed; that is, I -designed—I give you my word—’pon honour, I do!—I give you my word -of that!—I only had in view—in short, and to cut the matter short, I -only aimed at paying you—pray now take me right!—at paying you the -very finest compliment in nature!” - -“Bravo, bravo! Mr. Bayes!” cried the Doctor, clapping his hands: -“nothing can be clearer!—” - -Mr. Garrick had lent the Doctor several books of reference; and he -now inquired the titles and number of what were at present in his -possession. - -“I have ten volumes,” answered the Doctor, “of Memoirs of the French -Academy.” - -“And what others?” - -“I don’t know—do you, Fanny?”—turning to his librarian. - -“What! I suppose, then,” said Mr. Garrick, with an ironical cast of -the eye, “you don’t choose to know that point yourself?—Eh?—O, very -well, Sir, very well!” rising, and scraping round the room with sundry -grotesque bows, obsequiously low and formal; “quite well, Sir! Pray -make free with me! Pray keep them, if you choose it! Pray stand upon no -ceremony with me, Sir!” - -Dr. Burney then hunted for the list; and when he had found it, and they -had looked it over, and talked it over, Mr. Garrick exclaimed, “But -when, Doctor, when shall we have out the History of Histories? Do let -me know in time, that I may prepare to blow the trumpet of fame.” - -He then put his cane to his mouth, and, in the voice of a raree -showman, squalled out, shrilly and loudly: “This is your only true -History, gemmen! Please to buy! please to buy! come and buy! ’Gad, Sir, -I’ll blow it in the ear of every scurvy pretender to rivalship. So, -buy! gemmen, buy! The only true History! No counterfeit, but all alive!” - -Dr. Burney invited him to the parlour, to breakfast; but he said he was -engaged at home, to Messrs. Twiss and Boswell; whom immediately, most -gaily and ludicrously, he took off to the life. - -Elated by the mirth with which he enlivened his audience, he now could -not refrain from imitating, in the same manner, even Dr. Johnson: but -not maliciously, though very laughably. He sincerely honoured, nay, -loved Dr. Johnson; but Dr. Johnson, he said, had peculiarities of such -unequalled eccentricity, that even to his most attached, nay, to his -most reverential admirers, they were irresistibly provoking to mimicry. - -Mr. Garrick, therefore, after this apology, casting off his little, -mean, snivelling Abel Drugger appearance, began displaying, and, by -some inconceivable arrangement of his habiliments, most astonishingly -enlarging his person, so as to make it seem many inches above its -native size; not only in breadth, but, strange yet true to tell, in -height, whilst exhibiting sundry extraordinary and uncouth attitudes -and gestures. - -Pompously, then, assuming an authoritative port and demeanour, and -giving a thundering stamp with his foot on some mark on the carpet that -struck his eye—not with passion or displeasure, but merely as if from -absence and singularity; he took off the voice, sonorous, impressive, -and oratorical, of Dr. Johnson, in a short dialogue with himself that -had passed the preceding week. - -“David!—will you lend me your Petrarca?” - -“Y-e-s, Sir!—” - -“David! you sigh?” - -“Sir—you shall have it, certainly.” - -“Accordingly,” Mr. Garrick continued, “the book—stupendously bound—I -sent to him that very evening. But—scarcely had he taken the noble -quarto in his hands, when—as Boswell tells me, he poured forth a Greek -ejaculation, and a couplet or two from Horace; and then, in one of -those fits of enthusiasm which always seem to require that he should -spread his arms aloft in the air, his haste was so great to debarrass -them for that purpose, that he suddenly pounces my poor Petrarca over -his head upon the floor! Russia leather, gold border, and all! And -then, standing for several minutes erect, lost in abstraction, he -forgot, probably, that he had ever seen it; and left my poor dislocated -Beauty to the mercy of the housemaid’s morning mop!” - -Phill, the favourite little spaniel, was no more; but a young greyhound -successor followed Mr. Garrick about the study, incessantly courting -his notice, and licking his hands. “Ah, poor Phill!” cried he, looking -at the greyhound contemptuously, “_You_ will never take his place, -Slabber-chops! though you try for it hard and soft. Soft enough, poor -whelp! like all your race; tenderness without ideas.” - -After he had said adieu, and left the room, he hastily came back, -whimsically laughing, and said, “Here’s one of your maids down stairs -that I love prodigiously to speak to, because she is so cross! She was -washing, and rubbing and scrubbing, and whitening and brightening your -steps this morning, and would hardly let me pass. Egad, Sir, she did -not know the great Roscius! But I frightened her a little, just now: -‘Child,’ says I, ‘you don’t guess whom you have the happiness to see! -Do you know I am one of the first geniuses of the age? You would faint -away upon the spot if you could only imagine who I am!’” - - * * * * * - -Another time, an appointment having been arranged by Dr. Burney for -presenting his friend Mr. Twining to Mr. Garrick, the two former, -in happy conference, were enjoying the society of each other, while -awaiting the promised junction with Mr. Garrick, when a violent rapping -at the street door, which prepared them for his welcome arrival, was -followed by a demand, through the footman, whether the Doctor could -receive Sir Jeremy Hillsborough; a baronet who was as peculiarly -distasteful to both the gentlemen, as Mr. Garrick was the reverse. - -“For heaven’s sake, no!” cried Mr. Twining; and the Doctor echoing -“No! No! No!” was with eagerness sending off a hasty excuse, when the -footman whispered, “Sir, he’s at my heels! he’s close to the door! -he would not stop!” And, strenuously flinging open the library door -himself in a slouching hat, an old-fashioned blue rocolo, over a -great-coat of which the collar was turned up above his ears, and a -silk handkerchief, held, as if from the tooth-ache, to his mouth, the -forbidden guest entered; slowly, lowly, and solemnly bowing his head -as he advanced; though, quaker-like, never touching his hat, and not -uttering a word. - -The Doctor, whom Sir Jeremy had never before visited, and to whom -he was hardly known, save by open dissimilarity upon some literary -subjects; and Mr. Twining, to whom he was only less a stranger to be -yet more obnoxious, from having been at variance with his family; -equally concluded, from their knowledge of his irascible character, -that the visit had no other view than that of demanding satisfaction -for some offence supposed to have been offered to his high -self-importance. And, in the awkwardness of such a surmise, they could -not but feel disconcerted, nay abashed, at having proclaimed their -averseness to his sight in such unqualified terms, and immediately -within his hearing. - -For a minute or two, with a silence like his own, they awaited an -explanation of his purpose; when, after some hesitation, ostentatiously -waving one hand, while the other still held his handkerchief to his -mouth, the unwelcome intruder, to their utter astonishment, came -forward; and composedly seated himself in an arm-chair near the fire; -filling it broadly, with an air of domineering authority. - -The gentlemen now looked at each other, in some doubt whether -their visitor had not found his way to them from the vicinity of -Moorfields.[61] - -The pause that ensued was embarrassing, and not quite free from alarm; -when the intruder, after an extraordinary nod or two, of a palpably -threatening nature, suddenly started up, threw off his slouched hat -and old rocolo, flung his red silk handkerchief into the ashes, and -displayed to view, lustrous with vivacity, the gay features, the -sparkling eyes, and laughing countenance of Garrick,—the inimitable -imitator, David Garrick. - -Dr. Burney, delighted at this development, clapped his hands, as -if the scene had been represented at a theatre: and all his family -present joined rapturously in the plaudit: while Mr. Twining, with the -happy surprise of a sudden exchange from expected disgust to accorded -pleasure, eagerly approached the arm-chair, for a presentation which he -had longed for nearly throughout his life. - -Mr. Garrick then, with many hearty reciprocations of laughter, -expounded the motive to the feat which he had enacted. - -He had awaked, he said, that morning, under the formidable impression -of an introduction to a profound Greek scholar, that was almost -awful; and that had set him to pondering upon the egregious loss of -time and pleasurability that hung upon all formalities in making new -acquaintances; and he then set his wits to work at devising means for -skipping at once, by some sleight of hand, into abrupt cordiality. -And none occurred that seemed so promising of spontaneous success, as -presenting himself under the aspect of a person whom he knew to be so -desperately unpleasant to the scholiast, that, at the very sound of -his name, he would inwardly ejaculate, - - “Take any form but that!” - -Here, in a moment, Mr. Garrick was in the centre of the apartment, in -the attitude of Hamlet at sight of the ghost. - -This burlesque frolic over, which gave a playful vent that seemed -almost necessary to the superabundant animal spirits of Mr. Garrick, -who, as Dr. Johnson has said of Shakespeare, “was always struggling for -an occasion to be comic,” he cast away farce and mimicry; and became, -for the rest of the visit, a judicious, intelligent, and well informed, -though ever lively and entertaining converser and man of letters: and -Mr. Twining had not been more amused by his buffoonery, than he grew -charmed by his rationality. - -In the course of the conversation, the intended Encyclopedia of Dr. -Goldsmith being mentioned, and the Doctor’s death warmly regretted, a -description of the character as well as works of that charming author -was brought forward; and Mr. Garrick named, what no one else in his -presence could have hinted at, the poem of Retaliation. - -Mr. Garrick had too much knowledge of mankind to treat with lightness -so forcible an attack upon the stability of his friendships, however -it might be softened off by the praise of his talents.[62] But he had -brought it, he said, upon himself, by an unlucky lampoon, to which he -had irresistibly been led by the absurd blunders, and the inconceivable -inferiority between the discourse and the pen of this singular man; -who, one evening at the club, had been so outrageously laughable, -that Mr. Garrick had been betrayed into asserting, that no man could -possibly draw the character of Oliver Goldsmith, till poor Oliver was -under ground; for what any one would say after an hour’s reading him, -would indubitably be reversed, after an hour’s chat. “And then,” Mr. -Garrick continued, “one risible folly bringing on another, I voted him -to be dead at that time, that I might give his real character in his -epitaph. And this,” he added, “produced this distich.” - - “Attend, passer by, for here lies old Noll; - Who wrote like an angel—but talked like poor Poll!” - -Goldsmith, immeasurably piqued, vowed he would retaliate; but, never -ready with his tongue in public, though always ready with his pen in -private, he hurried off in a pet; and, some time after, produced that -best, if not only, satirical poem, that he ever wrote, “Retaliation.” - -This was Dr. Goldsmith’s final work, and did not come out till after -his death. And it was still unfinished; the last line, which was upon -Sir Joshua Reynolds, being left half written; - - “By flattery unspoil’d—”[63] - -To a very general regret, Dr. Johnson had not yet been named. Probably, -he was meant to form the climax of the piece. - -His character, drawn by a man of such acute discrimination, who had -prospered from his friendship, yet smarted from his wit; who feared, -dreaded, and envied; yet honoured, admired, and loved him; would -doubtless have been sketched with as fine a pencil of splendid praise, -and pointed satire, as has marked the characteristic distiches upon Mr. -Burke and Mr. Garrick. - - FOOTNOTES - -[Footnote 1: The year of Dr. Burney’s decease.] - -[Footnote 2: Afterwards Mrs. Phillips.] - -[Footnote 3: Afterwards Dame d’Atour to the celebrated sister of -Frederick the Great.] - -[Footnote 4: Upon its revival; not upon its first coming-out.] - -[Footnote 5: Even to Thomson, young Burney had appeared but as a -delegate from that nominal society.] - -[Footnote 6: His late Majesty, George the Fourth, when Prince of Wales.] - -[Footnote 7: Now the mansion of the Marquis of Londonderry.] - -[Footnote 8: Troilus and Cressida.] - -[Footnote 9: The bride’s sisters, the Misses Macartney, were privately -present at this clandestine ceremony.] - -[Footnote 10: The rich citizens, at present, generally migrate -to the west; leaving their eastern dwelling, with its current -business-control, to their partners or dependents.] - -[Footnote 11: This resistless filial tribute to such extraordinary -_independent_ and _individual_ merit, must now be offenceless; as the -family of its honoured object has for very many years, in its every -Male branch, been, in this world, utterly extinct.—And, for another -world,—of what avail were disguise?] - -[Footnote 12: The word _almost_ must here stand to acknowledge the -several exceptions that may be offered to this paragraph; but which, -nevertheless, seem to make, not annul, a general rule.] - -[Footnote 13: Miss Young’s were the kind arms that first welcomed to -this nether sphere the writer of these memoirs.] - -[Footnote 14: The whole of this finest gallery of pictures that, -then, had been formed in England, was sold, during some pecuniary -difficulties, by its owner, George, Earl of Orford, for £40,000, to -Catherine the Great, Empress of Russia.] - -[Footnote 15: This name alludes to that which young Burney had acquired -from imitating Garrick in Abel Drugger, during the theatricals at -Wilbury House.] - -[Footnote 16: It is written with a flow of tender but harassed -sensations, so natural, so unstrained, that it seems to have been -penned merely because felt; though clearly to have been incited by -acute disappointment to heart-dear expectations. - - I ask no kind return in love; - No melting power to please; - Far from the heart such gifts remove - That sighs for peace and ease! - Nor peace nor ease the heart can know - That, like the needle true, - Turns at the touch of joy and woe— - But, turning—trembles too!] - -[Footnote 17: And subsequently, through this partial regard, the -writer of these memoirs had the honour of being a god-daughter of Mrs. -Greville.] - -[Footnote 18: Afterwards Mrs. Charles Burney, of Bath.] - -[Footnote 19: See correspondence.] - -[Footnote 20: The letters of Dr. Johnson were made over to Mr. Boswell -by Dr. Burney, and have already been published; but the modesty which -withheld his own, will not, it is hoped, be thought here to be violated -by printing them in his memoirs; as they not only shew his early and -generous enthusiasm for genius, but carry with them a striking proof of -the genuine urbanity with which Dr. Johnson was open to every act of -kindness that was offered to him unaffectedly, even from persons the -most obscure and unknown.] - -[Footnote 21: The eldest daughter.] - -[Footnote 22: Charlotte.] - -[Footnote 23: Afterwards Rear-Admiral James Burney.] - -[Footnote 24: Afterwards the celebrated Greek scholar.] - -[Footnote 25: In his letters.] - -[Footnote 26: Dryden.] - -[Footnote 27: See Correspondence.] - -[Footnote 28: And such it appeared to this memorialist when it was -exhibited at the Louvre in 1812.] - -[Footnote 29: The first Earl of Chatham.] - -[Footnote 30: See correspondence.] - -[Footnote 31: Edward, brother to his Majesty George III.] - -[Footnote 32: Afterwards Mrs. Rishton.] - -[Footnote 33: Now Rector of Lynn Regis.] - -[Footnote 34: No truth can be more simply exact than that which is -conveyed in four lines of the stanzas which she addressed to him in the -secret dedication of her first work, Evelina, viz. - - If in my heart the love of virtue glows - ’Twas kindled there by an unerring rule; - From thy _example_ the pure flame arose, - Thy _life_ my precept; thy _good works_ my school.] - -[Footnote 35: His son, George Colman the younger, still happily lives -and flourishes.] - -[Footnote 36: See Correspondence.] - -[Footnote 37: Forty-three years after the date of this publication, -the Countess Dowager of Pembroke acquainted this memorialist, that she -had never known by whom this Essay was dedicated, nor by whom it was -written.] - -[Footnote 38: See Correspondence.] - -[Footnote 39: This Editor.] - -[Footnote 40: Daughter of Lord Mulgrave.] - -[Footnote 41: More known by the title of the Hon. Polar Captain. -Afterwards Lord Mulgrave.] - -[Footnote 42: Mr. Seward, author of Biographiana, was wont to say, that -those three initial letters stood for a Fellow Remarkably Stupid.] - -[Footnote 43: There seems here to be some word, or words, omitted.—ED.] - -[Footnote 44: Mrs. Doctor Burney accompanied the Doctor in this visit -to Mr. and Mrs. Bewley.] - -[Footnote 45: Afterwards George IV.] - -[Footnote 46: Now rector of Abinger, mentioned several times in -Boswell’s Life of Dr. Johnson.] - -[Footnote 47: These little narrations, selected and transcribed from a -large packet of letters, written by the Editor, at a very early period -of life, to Mr. Crisp, were by him bequeathed to his sister, Mrs. Gast; -at whose death they became the property of Mrs. Frodsham, their nearest -of kin; who, unsolicited, most generously and delicately restored the -whole collection to its writer. She is gone hence before this little -tribute of gratitude could be offered to her; but she has left two -amiable daughters, who will not read it with indifference.] - -[Footnote 48: This familiar, but affectionate, appellation, had been -given by Dr. Burney, during his own youth, to Mr. Crisp; and was now, -by prescription, adopted by the whole of the Doctor’s family.] - -[Footnote 49: Dr. Russel, after this meeting, procured for Dr. Burney -some curious information from Aleppo, of the modern state of music in -Arabia.] - -[Footnote 50: The eldest was afterwards Marchioness of Thomond; the -second is now Mrs. Gwatken.] - -[Footnote 51: An afterpiece of Mrs. Brookes’s composition.] - -[Footnote 52: Afterwards Sir William Weller Pepys.] - -[Footnote 53: Afterwards Earl of Cardigan.] - -[Footnote 54: Father of the second Mrs. Sheridan.] - -[Footnote 55: See Correspondence.] - -[Footnote 56: His brilliant successor in deserved renown, Sir Thomas -Lawrence, was then scarcely in being.] - -[Footnote 57: To this Editor.] - -[Footnote 58: Susanna.] - -[Footnote 59: Charlotte.] - -[Footnote 60: Frances.] - -[Footnote 61: Where then stood the Bethlem Hospital.] - -[Footnote 62: - - “He cast off his friends, as a huntsman his pack, - For he knew when he would he could whistle them back.”] - -[Footnote 63: This last circumstance was communicated to the Editor by -Sir Joshua himself.] - - -END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. - - -BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, BOUVERIE STREET. - - * * * * * - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES. - -1. Silently corrected simple spelling, grammar, and typographical - errors. -2. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed. -3. Page 144 last paragraph. Confusing set of dashes. Left as close - to original as decipherable. -4. Table of Contents created by the Transcriber. - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Memoirs of Doctor Burney (Vol. 1 of 3), by -Fanny Burney - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIRS OF DOCTOR BURNEY *** - -***** This file should be named 61468-0.txt or 61468-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/4/6/61468/ - -Produced by MWS, Brian Wilsden and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - |