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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ca62ad3 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #61926 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/61926) diff --git a/old/61926-0.txt b/old/61926-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index f81d9bc..0000000 --- a/old/61926-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9613 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Memoirs of Doctor Burney, (Vol. 2 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. 2 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: April 25, 2020 [EBook #61926] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIRS OF DOCTOR BURNEY, -(Vol. 2 of 3) *** - - - - -Produced by MWS, Brian Wilsden and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://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. - - - - - 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. II. - - LONDON: - - EDWARD MOXON, 64, NEW BOND STREET. - - 1832. - - - - - LONDON: - BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, - BOUVERIE STREET. - - - - -MEMOIRS - -OF - -DOCTOR BURNEY. - - -SUCH, as far as can be gathered, or recollected, was the list of the -general home circle of Dr. Burney, on his beginning residence in St. -Martin’s-Street; though many persons must be omitted, not to swell -voluminously a mere catalogue of names, where no comment, or memorandum -of incident, has been left of them by the Doctor. - -But to enumerate the friends or acquaintances with whom he associated -in the world at large, would be nearly to ransack the Court Calendar, -the list of the Royal Society, of the Literary Club, of all assemblages -of eminent artists; and almost every other list that includes the -celebrated or active characters, then moving, like himself, in the -vortex of public existence. - -Chiefly, however, after those already named, stood, in his estimation, -Mr. Chamier, Mr. Boone, Dr. Warton, and his brother, Dr. Thomas Warton, -Sir Richard Jebb, Mr. Matthias, Mr. Cox, Dr. Lind, and Mr. Planta, of -the Museum. - - - - -OMIAH. - - -At the end of the year 1775, the Doctor’s eldest son, Captain James -Burney, who, on board the Cerberus, had convoyed General Burgoyne to -America, obtained permission from the Admiralty to return home, in -order to again accompany Captain Cooke in a voyage round the world; the -second circumnavigation of the young Captain; the third, and unhappily -the last, of the great Captain Cooke. - -Omiah, whom they were to restore to his country and friends, came now -upon a leave-taking visit to the family of his favourite Captain Burney. - -Omiah, by this time, had made some proficiency in the English language, -and in English customs; and he knew the town so well, that he -perambulated it for exercise and for visits, without either interpreter -or guide. - -But he owed quite as much assistance to attitude and gesture, for -making himself understood, as to speech, for in that he was still, at -times, quite unintelligible. To dumb shew he was probably familiar, -the brevity and paucity of his own dialect making it necessarily a -principal source of communication at Ulitea and at Otaheite. What he -knew of English he must have caught instinctively and mechanically, -as it is caught by children; and, it may be, only the faster from -having his attention unencumbered with grammatical difficulties, or -orthographical contrarieties: yesterday served for the past, in all its -distances: tomorrow, for the future, in all its dependences. - -The King allowed him a handsome pension, upon which he lived perfectly -at ease, and very happily: and he entertained, in return, as gratefully -loyal a devotion to his Majesty as if he had been a native born subject. - -He was very lively, yet gentle; and even politely free from any -forwardness or obtrusion; holding back, and keeping silent, when not -called into notice, with as much delicacy and reserve, as any well bred -European. And his confidence in the benevolence and honour of the -strangers with whom he had trusted his person and his life, spoke a -nature as intrepid as it was guileless. - -Dr. Burney inquired of him whether he had lately seen the King? - -“Yes,” he answered, “Yes. King George bid me, ‘Omy, you go home.’ O! -dood man, King George! ver dood man!—not ver bad!” - -He then endeavoured, very pleasingly, to discriminate between his joy -at returning to his native land, and his grief in quitting England. -“Lord Sandwich,” he said, “bid me—Mr. Omy, you two ships: one, two: -you go home. Omy make ver fine bow;” which he rose to perform, and with -grace and ease; “den Omy say, My lord, ver much oblige!” - -The Doctor asked whether he had been at the Opera? - -His answer was a violent and ear-jarring squeak, by way of imitating -Italian singing. Nevertheless, he said that he began to like it a great -deal better than he had done at first. - -He now missed Richard, the Doctor’s youngest son,[1] and, upon being -told that he was gone to school, clapped his hands, and cried, “O, -learn book? ver well.” Then, putting his hands together, and opening -and shutting them, to imitate turning over the leaves of a book, he -attempted to describe the humour of some school that he had been taken -to see. “Boys here;” he cried: “boys there; boys all over. Master call. -One boy come up. Do so,—” muttering a confused jargon to imitate -reading. “Not ver well. Ver bad. Master do so!” - -He then described the master giving the boy a rap on the shoulder with -the book. “Ha! ha!—Boy like ver bad! not ver well. Boy do so;” making -wry faces. “Poor boy! not ver dood. Boy ver bad.” - -When the Doctor wished to know what he thought of English horses, and -the English mode of riding, he answered, “Omy like ver well.” He then -tried to expatiate upon riding double, which he had seen upon the high -road, and which had much astonished him. “First,” cried he, “go man; -so!—” making a motion as if mounting and whipping a horse. “Then -here!” pointing behind him; “here go woman! Ha! ha! ha!” - -The Doctor asked when he had seen the beautiful Lady Townshend, who was -said to desire his acquaintance. - -He immediately made a low bow, with a pleased smile, and said, “Ver -pret woman, Lady Townshend; not ver nasty. Omy drink tea with Lady -Townshend in one, two, tree days. Lord Townshend my friend. Lady -Townshend my friend. Ver pret woman, Lady Townshend: ver pret woman -Mrs. Crewe: ver pret woman Mrs. Bouverie: ver pret woman, Lady Craven.” - -Dr. Burney concurred, and admired his taste. He then said, that when -he was invited anywhere they wrote, “Mr. Omy, you come—dinner, tea, -supper.—Then Omy go, ver fast.” - -Dr. Burney requested that he would favour us with a national song of -Ulitea, which he had sung to Lord Sandwich, at Hinchenbrook. - -He seemed much ashamed, and unwilling to comply, from a full -consciousness now acquired of the inferiority of his native music to -our’s. But the family all joined in the Doctor’s wish, and he was too -obliging to refuse. Nevertheless, he was so modest, that he seemed to -blush alike at his own performance, and at the barbarity of his South -Sea Islands’ harmony; and he began two or three times before he could -gather firmness to proceed. - -Nothing could be more curious, or less pleasing than this singing. -Voice he had none; and tune, or air, did not seem to be even aimed at, -either by composer or performer. ’Twas a mere queer, wild and strange -rumbling of uncouth sounds. - -His music, Dr. Burney declared, was all that he had about him of savage. - -He took great pains, however, to Englishize the meaning of his ditty, -which was laughable enough. It appeared to be a sort of trio, formed -by an old woman, a young woman, and a young man: the two latter begin -by entertaining each other with praises of their mutual merits, and -protestations of their mutual passion; when the old woman enters, -and endeavours to allure to herself the attention of the young man; -and, as she cannot boast of her personal charms, she is very busy in -displaying her dress and decorations, and making him observe and admire -her draperies. He stood up to act this scene; and shewed much humour -in representing the absurd affectation and languishing grimaces of -this ancient enamorata. The youth, next, turning from her with scorn, -openly avows his passion for the young nymph: upon which, the affronted -antique dame authoritatively orders the damsel away; and then, coming -up, with soft and loving smiles, offers herself unreservedly to the -young man; saying, to use his own words, “Come—marry me!” The young -man starts back, as if from some venomous insect; but, half returning, -makes her a reverence, and then humbly begs she will be so good as -to excuse him; but, as she approaches to answer, and to coax him, he -repels her with derision, and impetuously runs off. - -Notwithstanding the singing of Omiah was so barbarous, his action, -and the expression of his countenance, was so original, that they -afforded great amusement, of the risible kind, to the Doctor and his -family, who could not finally part from him without much regret; so -gentle, so ingenuous, so artless, and so pleasing had been his conduct -and conversation in his frequent visits to the house; nor did he, in -return, finally quit them without strong symptoms even of sadness. - -In the February of the ensuing year, 1776, Captain Burney set sail, -with Captain Cooke and Omiah, on their watery tour. - - - - -CONCERTS. - - -In the private narrative of an historian of the musical art, it -may not be improper to insert some account of the concerts, which -he occasionally gave to invited friends and acquaintances at his -own house; as they biographically mark his style of life, and the -consideration in which he was held by the musical world. - -The company was always small, as were the apartments in which it was -received; but always select, as the name, fame, and travels of the -Doctor, by allowing him a choice of guests, enabled him to limit -admission to real lovers of music. - -He had never any formal band; though it is probable that there was -hardly a musician in England who, if called upon, would have refused -his services. But they were not requisite to allure those whom the -Doctor wished to please or oblige; and a crowd in a private apartment -he thought as inimical to harmony as to conversation. - -It was, primarily, to gratify Mr. Crisp that, while yet in -Poland street, he had begun these little musical assemblages; which, in -different forms, and with different parties, he continued, or renewed, -through life. - -The simplicity of the entertainment had, probably, its full share in -the incitement to its participation. A request to or from the master -of the house, was the sole ticket of entrance. And the urbanity of -the Doctor upon these occasions, with the warmth of his praise to -excellence, and the candour of his indulgence to failure, made his -reception of his visitors dispense a pleasure so unconstrained, so -varied, so good-humoured, that his concerts were most sought as a -favour by those whose presence did them the most honour. - -To style them, however, concerts, may be conferring on them a dignity -to which they had not any pretension. There was no bill of fare: there -were no engaged subalterns, either to double, or aid, or contrast, with -the principals. The performances were promiscuous; and simply such as -suited the varying humours and desires of the company; a part of which -were always assistants as well as auditors. - -Some details of these harmonical coteries, which were written at the -moment by this memorialist to Mr. Crisp, will be selected from amongst -those which contain characteristic traits of persons of celebrity; as -they may more pointedly display their cast and nature, than any merely -descriptive reminiscences. - -No apology will be pleaded for the careless manner in which these -accounts are recorded; Mr. Crisp, as may have been observed in the -narrations that have been copied relative to Mr. Bruce, prohibited -all form or study in his epistolary intercourse with his young -correspondent. - - -CONCERT.—ABSTRACT FIRST. - - “TO SAMUEL CRISP, ESQ. - - “_Chesington, Kingston, Surrey._ - -“Let me now try, my dear Mr. Crisp, if I cannot have the pleasure -to make you dolorously repent your inexorability to coming to town. -We have had such sweet music!—But let me begin with the company, -according to your orders. - -“They all arrived early, and staid the whole evening. - -“The Baron de Deiden, the Danish ambassador. - -“The Baroness, his wife; a sweet woman, indeed; young, pretty, -accomplished, and graceful. She is reckoned the finest _dilletante_ -performer on the piano-forte in Europe. - -“I might be contented, you will perhaps say, to have given her this -precedence in England and in Denmark; _i.e._ in her own country and in -our’s: but Europe sounds more noble! - -“The Honourable Miss Phipps, who came with her, or rather, I believe, -was brought by her, for they are great friends; and Miss Phipps had -already been with us in Queen-square. Miss Phipps is a daughter of Lord -Mulgrave, and sister to the famous Polar captain. She seems full of -spirit and taste. - -“Sir James and Lady Lake; Sir Thomas Clarges; Mrs. and Miss Ord; and -a good many others, agreeable enough, though too tedious to mention, -having nothing either striking or odd in them. But the pride of the -evening, as neither you, my dear Mr. Crisp, nor Mr. Twining, could be -with us, was Mr. HARRIS, _of Salisbury_, author of the three treatises -on Poetry, Music, and Painting; Philosophical Arrangements; Hermes, &c. -He brought with him Mrs. Harris, and his second daughter, Miss Louisa, -a distinguished lady-musician. Miss Harris,[2] the eldest, a -cultivated and high-bred character, is, I believe, with her brother, -our minister at Petersburgh. - -“Hettina,[3] Mr. Burney, and our noble selves, bring up the rear. - -“There was a great deal of conversation previous to the music. But as -the party was too large for a general _chatterment_, every body that -had not courage to stroll about and please themselves, was obliged to -take up with their next neighbour. What think you, then, of my good -fortune, when I tell you I happened to sit by Mr. Harris? and that -that so happening, joined to my being at home,—however otherwise -insignificant,—gave me the intrepidity to abandon my yea and nay -responses, when he was so good as to try whether I could make any -other. His looks, indeed, are so full of benignity, as well as of -meaning and understanding; and his manners have a suavity so gentle, so -encouraging, that, notwithstanding his high name as an author, all fear -from his renown was wholly whisked away by delight in his discourse and -his countenance. - -“My father was in excellent spirits, and walked about from one to -another, giving pleasure to all whom he addressed. - -“As we had no violins, basses, flutes, &c., we were forced to cut short -the formality of any overture, and to commence by the harp. Mr. Jones -had a very sweet instrument, with new pedals, constructed by Merlin. He -plays very well, and with very neat execution. - -“Mr. Burney, then, at the request of the Baroness de Deiden, went to -the harpsichord, where he fired away with his usual genius. He first -played a Concerto of Schobert’s; and then, as the Baroness would not -let him rise, another of my father’s. - -“When Mr. Burney had received _the compliments of the nobility and -gentry_, my father solicited the Baroness to take his place. - -“‘O no!’ she cried, ‘I cannot hear of such a thing! It is out of -the question! It would be a figurante to dance a _pas seul_ after -Mademoiselle Heinel.’ - -“However, her animated friend, Miss Phipps, joined so earnestly with -my father in entreaty, that, as the Baron looked strongly his sanction -to their wishes, she was prevailed upon to yield; which she did -most gracefully; and she then played a difficult lesson of Schobert’s -remarkably well, with as much meaning as execution. She is, besides, so -modest, so unassuming, and so pretty, that she was the general object -of admiration. - -“When my father went to thank her, she said she had never been so -frightened before in her life. - -“My father then begged another German composition from her, which he -had heard her play at Lord Mulgrave’s. She was going, most obligingly, -to comply, when the Baron, in a half whisper, and pointing to my sister -Burney, said; ‘_Après, ma chère!_’ - -“‘_Eh bien oui!_’ cried Miss Phipps, in a lively tone, ‘_après Madame_ -Burney! come Mrs. Burney, pray indulge us.’ - -“The Baroness, with a pleased smile, most willingly made way; and your -Hettina, unaffectedly, though not quite unfluttered, took her seat; and -to avoid any air of emulation, with great propriety began with a slow -movement, as the Baroness had played a piece of execution. - -“For this purpose, she chose your favourite bit of Echard; and I never -heard her play it better, if so well. Merlin’s new pedals made it -exquisite; and the expression, feeling, and taste with which she -performed it, raised a general murmur of applause. - -“Mr. Harris inquired eagerly the name of the composer. Every body -seemed to be struck, nay enchanted: and charmed into such silence of -attention, that if a pin had dropt, it would have caused a universal -start. - -“I should be ashamed not to give you a more noble metaphor, or simile, -or comparison, than a pin; only I know how cheap you hold all attempts -at fine writing; and that you will like my poor simple pin, just as -well as if I had stunned you with a cannon ball. - -“Miss Louisa Harris then consented to vary the entertainment by -singing. She was accompanied by Mr. Harris, whose soul seems all music, -though he has made his pen amass so many other subjects into the -bargain. She has very little voice, either for sound or compass; yet, -which is wonderful, she gave us all extreme pleasure; for she sings in -so high a style, with such pure taste, such native feeling, and such -acquired knowledge of music, that there is not one fine voice in a -hundred I could listen to with equal satisfaction. She gave us an -unpublished air of Sacchini’s, introduced by some noble recitative -of that delicious composer. - -“She declared, however, she should have been less frightened to have -sung at a theatre, than to such an audience. But she was prevailed with -to give us, afterwards, a sweet flowing rondeau of Rauzzini’s, from his -opera of Piramis and Thisbe. She is extremely unaffected and agreeable. - -“Then followed what my father called the great gun of the evening, -Müthel’s duet for two harpsichords; which my father thinks the noblest -composition of its kind in the world. - -“Mr. Burney and the Hettina now came off with flying colours indeed; -nothing could exceed the general approbation. Mr. Harris was in an -ecstacy that played over all his fine features; Sir James Lake, who is -taciturn and cold, was surprised even into loquacity in its praise; -Lady Lake, more prone to be pleased, was delighted to rapture; the -fine physiognomy of Miss Phipps, was lighted up to an animation quite -enlivening to behold; and the sweet Baroness de Deiden, repeatedly -protested she had never been at so singularly agreeable a concert -before. - -“She would not listen to any entreaty, however, to play again; -and all instrumental music was voted to be out of the question for that -night. Miss Louisa Harris then, with great good breeding, as well as -good nature, was won by a general call to give us a finale, in a fine -bravura air of Sacchini’s, which she sung extremely well, though under -evident and real affright. - -“There was then a good deal of chat, very gay and pleasing; after which -the company went away, in all appearance, uncommonly gratified: and we -who remained at home, were, in all reality, the same. - -“But how we wished for our dear Mr. Crisp! Do pray, now, leave your -gout to itself, and come to our next music meeting. Or if it needs must -cling to you, and come also, who knows but that music, which has - - “‘Charms to sooth the savage breast, - To soften rocks, and bend a knotted oak—’ - -may have charms also, To soften Gout, and _Un_bend Knotted Fingers?” - - * * * * * - -Previously to any further perusal of these juvenile narrations, it -is necessary to premise, that there were, at this period, three of -the most excelling singers that ever exerted rival powers at the same -epoch, who equally and earnestly sought the acquaintance and suffrage -of Dr. Burney; namely, - - Miss Cecilia Davies, detta l’Inglesina, - La Signora Agujari, detta la Bastardella, - And the far-famed Signora Gabrielli. - - -CECILIA DAVIES, DETTA L’INGLESINA. - -Miss Cecilia Davies, during a musical career, unfortunately as brief as -it was splendid, had, at her own desire, been made known to Dr. Burney -in a manner as peculiar as it was honourable, for it was through the -medium of Dr. Johnson; a medium which ensured her the best services of -Dr. Burney, and the esteem of all his family. - -Her fame and talents are proclaimed in the History of Music, where it -is said, “Miss Davies had the honour of being the first English woman -who performed the female parts in several great theatres in Italy; to -which extraordinary distinction succeeded that of her becoming the -first woman at the great opera theatre of London.” - -And in this course of rare celebrity, her unimpeachable conduct, her -pleasing manners, and her engaging modesty of speech and deportment, -fixed as much respect on her person and character, as her singularly -youthful success had fastened upon her professional abilities. - -But, unfortunately, no particulars can be given of any private -performance of this our indigenous brilliant ornament at the house -of Dr. Burney; for though she was there welcomed, and was even eager -to oblige him, the rigour of her opera articles prohibited her from -singing even a note, at that time, to any private party.[4] - -The next abstract, therefore, refers to - - -AGUJARI, DETTA LA BASTARDELLA. - - “TO SAMUEL CRISP, ESQ. - - “My dear Mr. Crisp, - -“My father says I must write you every thing of every sort about -Agujari, that you may get ready, well or ill, to come and hear her. -So pray make haste, and never mind such common obstacles as health or -sickness upon such an occasion. - -“La Signora Agujari has been nick-named, my father says, in Italy, from -some misfortune attendant upon her birth—but of which she, at least, -is innocent—La Bastardella. She is now come over to England, in the -prime of her life and her fame, upon an engagement with the proprietors -of the Pantheon, to sing two songs at their concert, at one hundred -pounds a night! My father’s tour in Italy has made his name and his -historical design so well known there in the musical world, that she -immediately desired his acquaintance on her arrival in London; and Dr. -Maty, one of her protectors in this country, was deputed to bring them -together; which he did, in St. Martin’s-Street, last week. - -“Dr. Maty is pleasing, intelligent, and well bred; though formal, -precise, and a rather affected little man. But he stands very high, -they say, in the classes of literature and learning; and, moreover, of -character and worthiness. - -He handed the Signora, with much pompous ceremony, into the -drawing-room, where—trumpets not being at hand—he introduced her to -my father with a fine flourish of compliments, as a phenomenon now -first letting herself down to grace this pigmy island. - -This style of lofty grandeur seemed perfectly accordant with the style -and fancy of the Signora; whose air and deportment announced deliberate -dignity, and a design to strike all beholders with awe, as well as -admiration. - -She is a handsome woman, of middle stature, and seems to be about -twenty-four or twenty-five years of age; with a very good and healthy -complexion, becomingly and not absurdly rouged; a well-shaped nose, a -well-cut mouth, and very prominent, rolling, expressive, and dyingly -languishing eyes. - -She was attended by Signor Colla, her maestro, and, as some assert, her -husband; but, undoubtedly, her obsequious and inseparable companion. He -is tall, thin, almost fiery when conversing; and tolerably well -furnished with gesture and grimace; _id est_, made up of nothing else. - -The talk was all in French or Italian, and almost all between the two -Doctors, Burney and Maty; we rest, being only auditors, except when -something striking was said upon music, or upon some musician; and then -the hot thin Italian, who is probably a Neapolitan, jumped up, and -started forth into an abrupt rhapsody, with such agitation of voice and -manner, that every limb seemed at work almost as nimbly as his tongue. - -But la Signora Agujari sat always in placid, majestic silence, when she -was not personally addressed. - -Signor Colla expressed the most unbounded veneration for il Signor -Dottore Borni; whose learned character, he said, in Italy, had left -him there a name that had made it an honour to be introduced to _un si -célebre homme_. My father retorted the compliment upon the Agujari; -lamenting that he had missed hearing her abroad, where her talents, -then, were but rising into renown. - -Nevertheless, though he naturally concluded that this visit was -designed for granting him that gratification, he was somewhat diffident -how to demand it from one who, in England, never quavers for less -than fifty guineas an air. To pave, therefore, the way to his -request, he called upon Mr. Burney and the Hettina to open the concert -with a duet. - -They readily complied; and the Agujari, now, relinquished a part of her -stately solemnity, to give way, though not without palpably marvelling -that it could be called for, to the pleasure that their performance -excited; for pleasure in music is a sensation that she seems to think -ought to be held in her own gift. And, indeed, for vocal music, -Gabrielli is, avowedly, the only exception to her universal disdain. - -As Mr. Burney and the Hettina, however, attempted not to invade her -excluding prerogative, they first escaped her supercilious contempt, -and next caught her astonished attention; which soon, to our no small -satisfaction, rose to open, lively, and even vociferous rapture. In -truth, I believe, she was really glad to be surprised out of her -fatiguing dumb grandeur. - -This was a moment not to be lost, and my father hinted his wishes to -Dr. Maty; Dr. Maty hinted them to Signor Colla; but Signor Colla did -not take the hint of hinting them to La Bastardella. He shrugged, and -became all gesticulation, and answered that the Signora would -undoubtedly sing to the Signor Dottore Borni; but that, at this moment, -she had a slight sore throat; and her desire, when she performed to il -Signor Dottore Borni was, _si possible_, he added, to surpass herself. - -We were all horribly disappointed; but Signor Colla made what amends -he could, by assuring us that we had never yet known what singing -was! “_car c’est une prodêge, Messieurs et Mesdames, que la Signora -Agujari_.” - -My father bowed his acquiescence; and then enquired whether she had -been at the opera? - -“‘O no;’ Signor Colla answered; ‘she was too much afraid of that -complaint which all her countrymen who travelled to England had so -long lamented, and which the English call catch-cold, to venture to a -theatre.’ - -“Agujari then condescended to inquire whether _il Signor Dottore_ had -heard the Gabrielli? - -“‘Not yet,’ he replied; ‘he waited her coming to England. He had missed -her in Italy, from her having passed that year in Sicily.’ - -“‘_Ah Diable!_’ exclaimed the Bastardini, ‘_mais c’est dommage!_’ - -“This familiar ‘_Diable!_’ from such majestic loftiness, had a very -droll effect. - -“‘_Et vous, Signora, l’avez-vous entendue?_’ - -“‘_O que non!_’ answered she, quite bluffly; ‘_cela n’est pas -possible!_’ - -“And we were alarmed to observe that she looked highly affronted; -though we could not possibly conjecture why, till Signor Colla, in a -whisper, represented the error of the inquiry, by saying, that two -first singers could never meet. - -“‘True!’ Dr. Maty cried; ‘two suns never light us at once.’ - -“The Signora, to whom this was repeated in Italian, presently recovered -her placid dignity by the blaze of these two suns; and, before she went -away, was in such perfect amity with _il Signor Dottore_, that she -voluntarily declared she would come again, when her sore throat was -over, and _chanter comme il faut_.” - - * * * * * - - -CONCERT.—EXTRACT THE THIRD. - - “My dear Mr. Crisp, - -“My father, now, bids me write for him—which I do with joy and pride, -for now, now, thus instigated, thus authorised, let me present -to you the triumphant, the unique Agujari! - -“O how we all wished for you when she broke forth in her vocal glory! -The great singers of olden times, whom I have heard you so emphatically -describe, seem to have all their talents revived in this wonderful -creature. I could compare her to nothing I have ever heard, but only -to what you have heard; your Carestini, Farinelli, Senesino, alone are -worthy to be ranked with the Bastardini. - -“She came with the Signor Maestro Colla, very early, to tea. - -“I cannot deign to mention our party,—but it was small and -good:—though by no means bright enough to be enumerated in the same -page with Agujari. - -“She frightened us a little, at first, by complaining of a cold. How -we looked at one another! Mr. Burney was called upon to begin; which -he did with even more than his usual spirit; and then—without waiting -for a petition—which nobody, not even my dear father, had yet gathered -courage to make, Agujari, the Bastardella, arose, voluntarily arose, to -sing! - -“We all rose too! we seemed all ear. There was no occasion for -any other part to our persons. Had a fan,—for I won’t again give -you a pin,—fallen, I suppose we should have taken it for at least a -thunder-clap. All was hushed and rapt attention. - -“Signor Colla accompanied her. She began with what she called a little -minuet of his composition. - -“Her cold was not affected, for her voice, at first, was not quite -clear; but she acquitted herself charmingly. And, little as she called -this minuet, it contained difficulties which I firmly believe no other -singer in the world could have executed. - -“But her great talents, and our great astonishment, were reserved for -her second song, which was taken from Metastatio’s opera of Didone, set -by Colla, ‘_Non hai ragione, ingrato!_’ - -“As this was an _aria parlante_, she first, in a voice softly -melodious, read us the words, that we might comprehend what she had to -express. - -“It is nobly set; nobly! ‘Bravo, il Signor Maestro!’ cried my father, -two or three times. She began with a fullness and power of voice that -amazed us beyond all our possible expectations. She then lowered it -to the most expressive softness—in short, my dear Mr. Crisp, she was -sublime! I can use no other word without degrading her. - -“This, and a second great song from the same opera, _Son Regina_, and -_Son Amante_, she sang in a style to which my ears have hitherto been -strangers. She unites, to her surprising and incomparable powers of -execution, and luxuriant facility and compass of voice, an expression -still more delicate—and, I had almost said, equally feeling with that -of my darling Millico, who first opened my sensations to the melting -and boundless delights of vocal melody.[6] In fact, in Millico, it -was his own sensibility that excited that of his hearers; it was so -genuine, so touching! It seemed never to want any spur from admiration, -but always to owe its excellence to its own resistless pathos. - -“Yet, with all its vast compass, and these stupendous sonorous sounds, -the voice of Agujari has a mellowness, a sweetness, that are quite -vanquishing. One can hardly help falling at her feet while one listens! -Her shake, too, is so plump, so true, so open! and, to display her -various abilities to my father, she sang in twenty styles—if twenty -there may be; for nothing is beyond her reach. In songs of execution, -her divisions were so rapid, and so brilliant, they almost made one -dizzy from breathless admiration: her cantabiles were so fine, so rich, -so moving, that we could hardly keep the tears from our eyes. Then she -gave us some accompanied recitative, with a nobleness of accent, that -made every one of us stand erect out of respect! Then, how fascinately -she condescended to indulge us with a rondeau! though she holds that -simplicity of melody beneath her; and therefore rose from it to chaunt -some church music, of the Pope’s Chapel, in a style so nobly simple, -so grandly unadorned, that it penetrated to the inmost sense. She is -just what she will: she has the highest taste, with an expression the -most pathetic; and she executes difficulties the most wild, the most -varied, the most incredible, with just as much ease and facility as I -can say—my dear Mr. Crisp! - -“Now don’t you die to come and hear her? I hope you do. O, she is -indescribable! - -“Assure yourself my father joins in all this, though perhaps, if he -had time to write for himself, he might do it more Lady Grace like, -‘soberly.’ I hope she will fill up at least half a volume of his -history. I wish he would call her, The Heroine of Music! - -“We could not help regretting that her engagement was at the Pantheon, -as her evidently fine ideas of acting are thrown away at a mere concert. - -At this, she made faces of such scorn and derision against the -managers, for not putting her upon the stage, that they altered her -handsome countenance almost to ugliness; and, snatching up a music -book, and opening it, and holding it full broad in her hands, she dropt -a formal courtesy, to take herself off at the Pantheon, and said; -‘_Oui! j’y suis là comme une statue! comme une petite ecolière!_’ And -afterwards she contemptuously added: ‘_Mais, on n’aime e guerre ici que -les rondeaux!—Moi—j’abhorre ces miseres là!_’ - -One objection, however, and a rather serious one, against her walking -the stage, is that she limps. - -Do you know what they assert to be the cause of this lameness? It is -said that, while a mere baby, and at nurse in the country, she was left -rolling on the grass one evening, till she rolled herself round and -round to a pigstie; where a hideous hog welcomed her as a delicious -repast, and mangled one side of the poor infant most cruelly, before -she was missed and rescued. She was recovered with great difficulty; -but obliged to bear the insertion of a plate of silver, to -sustain the parts where the terrible swine had made a chasm; and thence -she has been called ... I forget the Italian name, but that which has -been adopted here is Silver-sides. - -“You may imagine that the wags of the day do not let such a -circumstance, belonging to so famous a person, pass unmadrigalled: -Foote, my father tells us, has declared he shall impeach the -custom-house officers, for letting her be smuggled into the kingdom -contrary to law; unless her sides have been entered at the stamp -office. And Lord Sandwich has made a catch, in dialogue and in Italian, -between the infant and the hog, where the former, in a plaintive tone -of soliciting mercy, cries; ‘_Caro mio Porco!_’ The hog answers by -a grunt. Her piteous entreaty is renewed in the softest, tenderest -treble. His sole reply is expressed in one long note of the lowest, -deepest bass. Some of her highest notes are then ludicrously imitated -to vocalize little shrieks; and the hog, in finale, grunts out, ‘_Ah! -che bel mangiar!_’ - -“Lord Sandwich, who shewed this to my father, had, at least, the grace -to say, that he would not have it printed, lest it should get to her -knowledge, till after her return to Italy.” - -The radical and scientific merits of this singular personage, and -astonishing performer, are fully expounded in the History of Music. She -left England with great contempt for the land of Rondeaux; and never -desired to visit it again. - - -LA GABRIELLI. - -Of the person and performance of Gabrielli, the History of Music -contains a full and luminous description. She was the most universally -renowned singer of her time; for Agujari died before her high and -unexampled talents had expanded their truly wonderful supremacy. - -Yet here, also, no private detail can be written of the private -performance, or manners, of La Gabrielli, as she never visited at -the house of Dr. Burney; though she most courteously invited him to -her own; in which she received him with flattering distinction. And, -as she had the judgment to set aside, upon his visits, the airs, -caprices, coquetries, and gay insolences, of which the boundless -report had preceded her arrival in England, he found her a high-bred, -accomplished, and engaging woman of the world; or rather, he said, -woman of fashion; for there was a winning ease, nay, captivation, in -her look and air, that could scarcely, in any circle, be surpassed. Her -great celebrity, however, for beauty and eccentricity, as well as for -professional excellence, had raised such inordinate expectations before -she came out, that the following juvenile letters upon the appearance -of so extraordinary a musical personage, will be curious,—or, at -least, diverting, to lovers of musical anecdote. - - -CONCERT.—EXTRACT IV. - - TO SAMUEL CRISP, ESQ. - - _Chesington._ - - _October, 1775._ - - “My dear Mr. Crisp, - -“‘Tis so long since I have written, that I suppose you conclude we are -all gone fortune-hunting to some other planet; but, to skip apologies, -which I know you scoff, I shall atone for my silence, by telling you -that my dear father returned from Buxton in quite restored health, I -thank God! and that his first volume is now rough-sketched quite to the -end, Preface and Dedication inclusive. - -“But you are vehement, you say, to hear of Gabrielli. - -“Well, so is every body else; but she has not yet sung. - -“She is the subject of inquiry and discussion wherever you go. Every -one expects her to sing like a thousand angels, yet to be as ridiculous -as a thousand imps. But I believe she purposes to astonish them all in -a new way; for imagine how sober and how English she means to become, -when I tell you that she has taken a house in Golden-square, and put a -plate upon her door, on which she has had engraven, “Mrs. Gabrielli.” - -“If John Bull is not flattered by that, he must be John Bear. - -“Rauzzini, meanwhile, who is to be the first serious singer, has taken -precisely the other side; and will have nothing to do with his Johnship -at all; for he has had his apartments painted a beautiful rose-colour, -with a light myrtle sprig border; and has ornamented them with little -knic-knacs and trinkets, like a fine lady’s dressing-room. - -My father dined with them both the other day, at the manager’s, -Mrs. Brookes, the author, and Mrs. Yates, the _ci-devant_ actress. -Rauzzini sang a great many sweet airs, and very delightfully; -but Gabrielli not a note! Neither did any one presume to ask for -such a favour. Her sister was of the party also, who they say cannot -sing at all; but Gabrielli insisted upon having her engaged, and -advantageously, or refused, peremptorily, to come over. - -“Nothing can exceed the impatience of people of all ranks, and all ways -of thinking, concerning this so celebrated singer. And if you do not -come to town to hear her, I shall conclude you lost to all the Saint -Cecilian powers of attraction; and that you are become as indifferent -to music, as to dancing or to horse-racing. For my own part, if any -thing should unfortunately prevent my hearing her first performance, -I shall set it down in my memory ever after, as a very serious -misfortune. Don’t laugh so, dear daddy, pray! - -_Written the week following._ - -“How I rejoice, for once, in your hard-heartedness! how ashamed -I should have been if you had come, dearest Sir, to my call! The -Gabrielli did not sing! And she let all London, and all the country -too, I believe, arrive at the theatre before it was proclaimed -that she was not to appear! Every one of our family, and of every -other family that I know,—and that I don’t know besides, were at the -Opera House at an early hour. We, who were to enter at a private door, -per favour of Mrs. Brookes, rushed past all handbills, not thinking -them worth heeding. Poor Mr. Yates, the manager, kept running from -one outlet to another, to relate the sudden desperate hoarseness -of la Signora Gabrielli; and, supplicate patience, and, moreover, -credence,—now from the box openings, now from the pit, now from the -galleries. Had he been less active, or less humble, it is thought the -theatre would have been pulled down; so prodigious was the rage of the -large assemblage; none of them in the least believing that Gabrielli -had the slightest thing the matter with her. - -“My father says people do not think that singers have the capacity of -having such a thing as a cold! - -“The murmurs, ‘What a shame!’—‘how scandalous!’—‘what insolent -airs!’—kept Mr. Yates upon the alert from post to post, to the utmost -stretch of his ability; though his dolorous countenance painted his -full conviction that he himself was the most seriously to be pitied of -the party; for it was clear that he said, in soliloquy, upon every one -that he sent away: ‘There goes half a guinea!—or, at the least, -three shillings,—if not five, out of my pocket!’ - -“We all returned home in horrible ill-humour; but solacing ourselves -with a candid determination, taken in a true spirit of liberality, that -though she should sing even better than Agujari, we would not like her! - -My father called upon the managers to know what all this meant; and -Mrs. Brookes then told him, that all that had been reported of the -extraordinary wilfulness of this spoilt child of talent and beauty, was -exceeded by her behaviour. She only sent them word that she was out of -voice, and could not sing, one hour before the house must be opened! -They instantly hurried to her to expostulate, or rather to supplicate, -for they dare neither reproach nor command; and to represent the utter -impossibility of getting up any other opera so late; and to acknowledge -their terror, even for their property, upon the fury of an English -audience, if disappointed so bluffly at the last moment. - -To this she answered very coolly, but with smiles and politeness, that -if _le monde_ expected her so eagerly, she would dress herself, and let -the opera be performed; only, when her songs came to their symphony, -instead of singing, she would make a courtesy, and point to her throat. - -“‘You may imagine, Doctor,’ said Mrs. Brookes, ‘whether we could trust -John Bull with so easy a lady! and at the very instant his ears were -opening to hear her so vaunted performance!’ - - * * * * * - -“Well, my dear Mr. Crisp, now for Saturday, and now for the real -opera. We all went again. There was a prodigious house; such a one, -for fashion at least, as, before Christmas, never yet was seen. For -though every body was afraid there would be a riot, and that Gabrielli -would be furiously hissed, from the spleen of the late disappointment, -nobody could stay away; for her whims and eccentricities only heighten -curiosity for beholding her person. - -“The opera was Metastasio’s Didone, and the part for Gabrielli was new -set by Sacchini. - -“In the first scene, Rauzzini and Sestini appeared with la Signora -Francesca, the sister of Gabrielli. They prepared us for the approach -of the blazing comet that burst forth in the second. - -“Nothing could be more noble than her entrance. It seemed -instantaneously to triumph over her enemies, and conquer her -threateners. The stage was open to its furthest limits, and she -was discerned at its most distant point; and, for a minute or two, -there dauntlessly she stood; and then took a sweep, with a firm, but -accelerating step; and a deep, finely flowing train, till she reached -the orchestra. There she stopt, amidst peals of applause, that seemed -as if they would have shaken the foundations of the theatre. - -“What think you now of John Bull? - -“I had quite quivered for her, in expectation of cat-calling and -hissings; but the intrepidity of her appearance and approach, quashed -all his resentment into surprised admiration. - -“She is still very pretty, though not still very young. She has small, -intelligent, sparkling features; and though she is rather short, she -is charmingly proportioned, and has a very engaging figure. All her -notions are graceful, her air is full of dignity, and her walk is -majestic. - -“Though the applause was so violent, she seemed to think it so simply -her due, that she deigned not to honour it with the slightest mark of -acknowledgment, but calmly began her song. - -“John Bull, however, enchained, as I believe, by the reported vagaries -of her character, and by the high delight he expected from her talents, -clapped on,—clap, clap, clap!—with such assiduous noise, that not a -note could be heard, nor a _notion_ be started that any note was sung. -Unwilling, then, - - “To waste her sweetness on the clamorous air,” - -and perhaps growing a little gratified to find she could “soothe the -savage breast,” she condescended to make an Italian courtesy, _i.e._ a -slight, but dignified bow. - -“Honest John, who had thought she would not accept his homage, but -who, through the most abrupt turn from resentment to admiration, -had resolved to bear with all her freaks, was so enchanted by this -affability, that clapping he went on, till, I have little doubt, the -skin of his battered hands went off; determining to gain another gentle -salutation whether she would or not, as an august sign that she was not -displeased with him for being so smitten, and so humble. - -“After this, he suffered the orchestra to be heard. - -“Gabrielli, however, was not flattered into spoiling her flatterers. -Probably she liked the spoiling too well to make it over to -them. Be that as it may, she still kept expectation on the rack, by -giving us only recitative, till every other performer had tired our -reluctant attention. - -“At length, however, came the grand bravura, ‘_Son Regina, e sono -Amante_.’ - -“Here I must stop!—Ah, Mr. Crisp! why would she take words that had -been sung by Agujari? - -“Opinions are so different, you must come and judge for yourself. -Praise and censure are bandied backwards and forwards, as if they were -two shuttlecocks between two battledores. The _Son Regina_ was the only -air of consequence that she even attempted; all else were but bits; -pretty enough, but of no force or character for a great singer. - -“How unfortunate that she should take the words, even though to other -music, that we had heard from Agujari!—Oh! She is no Agujari! - -“In short, and to come to the truth, she disappointed us all -egregiously. - -However, my dear father, who beyond any body tempers his judgment with -indulgence, pronounces her a very capital singer. - -“But she visibly took no pains to exert herself, and appeared so -impertinently easy, that I believe she thought it condescension -enough for us poor savage Islanders to see her stand upon the stage, -and let us look at her. Yet it must at least be owned, that the tone -of her voice, though feeble, is remarkably sweet; that her action is -judicious and graceful, and that her style and manner of singing are -masterly.” - - -CONCERT.—EXTRACT V. - -“You reproach me, my dear Mr. Crisp, for not sending you an account of -our last two concerts. But the fact is, I have not any thing new to -tell you. The music has always been the same: the matrimonial duets are -so much _à-la-mode_, that no other thing in our house is now demanded. - -“But if I can write you nothing new about music—you want, I well know -you will say, to hear some conversations. - -“My dear Mr. Crisp, there is, at this moment, no such thing as -conversation. There is only one question asked, meet whom you may, -namely; ‘How do you like Gabrielli?’ and only two modes, contradictory -to be sure, but very steady, of reply: either, ‘Of all things upon -earth!’ or, ‘Not the least bit in the whole world!’ - -“Well, now I will present you with a specimen, beginning with our last -concert but one, and arranging the persons of the drama in the order of -their actual appearance. - -“But imprimis, I should tell you, that the motive to this concert was -a particular request to my father from Dr. King, our old friend, and -the chaplain to the British—something—at St. Petersburgh, that he -would give a little music to a certain mighty personage, who, somehow -or other how, must needs take, transiently at least, a front place in -future history,—namely, the famed favourite of the Empress Catherine -of Russia, Prince Orloff. - -“There, my dear Mr. Crisp! what say you to seeing such a doughty -personage as that in a private house, at a private party, of a private -individual, fresh imported from the Czarina of all the Russias,—to sip -a cup of tea in St. Martin’s-Street? - -“I wonder whether future historians will happen to mention this -circumstance? I am thinking of sending it to all the keepers of records. - -“But I see your rising eyebrow at this name—your start—your -disgust—yet big curiosity. - -“Well, suppose the family assembled, its honoured chief in the -midst—and Tat, tat, tat, tat, at the door. - -_Enter_ DR. OGLE, DEAN OF WINCHESTER. - -“_Dr. Burney_, after the usual ceremonies.—‘Did you hear the Gabrielli -last night, Mr. Dean?’ - -“_The Dean._—‘No, Doctor, I made the attempt, but soon retreated; for -I hate a crowd,—as much as the ladies love it!—I beg pardon!’ bowing -with a sort of civil sneer at we Fair Sex. - -“My mother was entering upon a spirited defence, when—Tat, tat, tat. - -_Enter_ DR. KING. - -“He brought the compliments of Prince Orloff, with his Highness’s -apologies for being so late, but he was obliged to dine at Lord -Buckingham’s, and thence, to shew himself at Lady Harrington’s. - -“As nobody thought of inquiring into Dr. King’s opinion of La -Gabrielli, conversation was at a stand, till—Tat, tat, tat, tat, too, -and - -“_Enter_ LADY EDGCUMBE. - -“We were all introduced to her, and she was very chatty, courteous, and -entertaining. - -“_Dr. Burney._—‘Your Ladyship was certainly at the Opera last night?’ - -“_Lady Edgcumbe._—‘O yes!—but I have not heard the Gabrielli! I -cannot allow that I have yet heard her.’ - -“_Dr. Burney._—‘Your Ladyship expected a more powerful voice?’ - -“_Lady Edgcumbe._—‘Why n-o—not much. The shadow can tell what the -substance must be; but she cannot have acquired this great reputation -throughout Europe for nothing. I therefore repeat that I have not -yet heard her. She must have had a cold.—But, for me—I have heard -Mingotti!—I have heard Montecelli!—I have heard Mansuoli!—and I -shall never hear them again!’ - -“_The Dean._—‘But, Lady Edgcumbe, may not Gabrielli have great powers, -and yet have too weak a voice for so large a theatre?’ - -“_Lady Edgcumbe._—‘Our theatre, Mr. Dean, is of no size to what she -has been accustomed to abroad. But,—Dr. Burney, I have also heard the -Agujari!’ - -“_Hettina_, _Fanny_, _Susanna_.—‘Oh! Agujari!’ (All three speaking -with clasped hands.) - -“_Dr. Burney_ (laughing).—‘Your ladyship darts into all their hearts -by naming Agujari! However, I have hopes you _will_ hear her again.’ - -“_Lady Edgcumbe._—‘O, Dr. Burney! bring her but to the Opera,—and I -shall grow crazy!’ - -“I assure you, my dear Mr. Crisp, we all longed to embrace her -ladyship. And she met our sympathy with a good-humour full of pleasure. -My father added, that we all doated upon Agujari. - -“_Lady Edgcumbe._—‘O! she is incomparable!—Mark but the difference, -Dr. Burney; by Gabrielli, Rauzzini seems to have a great voice;—by -Agujari, he seemed to have that of a child.’— - -“Tat, tat, tat, tat, too. - -“_Enter_ THE HON. MR. and MRS. BRUDENEL. - -“Mr. Brudenell,[7] commonly called ‘His Honour,’ from high birth, I -suppose, without title, or from some quaint old cause that nobody knows -who has let me into its secret, is tall and stiff, and strongly in the -_ton_ of the present day; which is anything rather than macaroniism; -for it consists of unbounded freedom and ease, with a short, abrupt, -dry manner of speech; and in taking the liberty to ask any question -that occurs upon other people’s affairs and opinions; even upon their -incomes and expences;—nay, even upon their age! - -“Did you ever hear of any thing so shocking? - -“I do not much mind it now; but, when I grow older, I intend -recommending to have this part of their code abolished. - -“Mrs. Brudenel is very obliging and pleasing; and of as great fame as a -lady singer, as Lady Edgcumbe is as a first rate lady player. - -“The usual question being asked of La Gabrielli; - -“_Mrs. Brudenel._—‘O, Lady Edgcumbe and I are entirely of the same -opinion; we agree that we have not yet heard her.’ - -“_Lady Edgcumbe._—‘The ceremony of her quitting the theatre after the -opera is over, is extremely curious. First goes a man in livery to -clear the way; then follows the sister; then the Gabrielli herself. -Then, a little foot-page, to bear her train; and, lastly, another man, -who carries her muff, in which is her lap-dog.’ - -“_Mr. Brudenel._—‘But where is Lord March all this time?’ - -“_Lady Edgcumbe_ (laughing).—‘Lord March? O,——he, you know, is First -Lord of the Bedchamber!’— - -“Tat, tat, tat, tat. - -“_Enter_ M. le BARON DE DEMIDOFF. - -“He is a Russian nobleman, who travels with Prince Orloff; and -he preceded his Highness with fresh apologies, and a desire that -the concert might not wait, as he would only shew himself at Lady -Harrington’s, and hasten hither. - -“My father then attended Lady Edgcumbe to the Library, and Mr. Burney -took his place at the harpsichord. - -“We all followed. He was extremely admired; but I have nothing new to -tell you upon that subject. - -“Then enter Mr. Chamier. Then followed several others; and then - -“_Enter_ MR. HARRIS, _of Salisbury_. - -“Susan and I quite delighted in his sight, he is so amiable to talk -with, and so benevolent to look at. Lady Edgcumbe rose to meet him, -saying he was her particular old friend. He then placed himself by -Susan and me, and renewed acquaintance in the most pleasing manner -possible. I told him we were all afraid he would be tired to death of -so much of one thing, for we had nothing to offer him but again the -duet. ‘That is the very reason I solicited to come,’ he answered; ‘I -was so much charmed the last time, that I begged Dr. Burney to give me -a repetition of the same pleasure.’ - -“‘Then—of course, the opera? The Gabrielli?’ - -“Mr. Harris declared himself her partizan. - -“Lady Edgcumbe warmed up ardently for Agajari. - -“_Mr. Dean._—‘But pray, Dr. Burney, why should not these two -melodious signoras sing together, that we might judge them fairly?’ - -“_Dr. Burney._—‘Oh! the rivalry would be too strong. It would create a -musical war. It would be Cæsar and Pompey.’ - -“_Lady Edgcumbe._—‘Pompey the Little, then, I am sure would be la -Gabrielli!’ - -“_Enter_ LORD BRUCE. - -“He is a younger brother not only of the Duke of Montagu, but of his -Honour Brudenel. How the titles came to be so awkwardly arranged in -this family is no affair of mine; so you will excuse my sending you to -the Herald’s Office, if you want that information, my dear Mr. Crisp; -though as you are one of the rare personages who are skilled in every -thing yourself,—at least so says my father;—and he is a Doctor, you -know!—I dare say you will genealogize the matter to me at once, when -next I come to dear Chesington. - -“He is tall, thin, and plain, but remarkably sensible, agreeable, -and polite; as, I believe, are very generally all those keen looking -Scotchmen; for Scotch, not from his accent, but his name, I conclude -him of course. Can Bruce be other than Scotch? They are far more -entertaining, I think, as well as informing, taken in the common -run, than we silentious English; who, taken _en masse_, are tolerably -dull. - -“The Opera?—the Gabrielli?—were now again brought forward. Lady -Edgcumbe, who is delightfully music mad, was so animated, that she was -quite the life of the company. - -“At length—Tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, too! - -“_Enter_ HIS HIGHNESS PRINCE ORLOFF. - -“Have you heard the dreadful story of the thumb, by which this terrible -Prince is said to have throttled the late Emperor of Russia, Peter, by -suddenly pressing his windpipe while he was drinking? I hope it is not -true; and Dr. King, of whom, while he resided in Russia, Prince Orloff -was the patron, denies the charge. Nevertheless, it is so currently -reported, that neither Susan nor I could keep it one moment from our -thoughts; and we both shrunk from him with secret horror, heartily -wishing him in his own Black Sea. - -“His sight, however, produced a strong sensation, both in those who -believed, and those who discredited this disgusting barbarity; for -another story, not perhaps, of less real, though of less sanguinary -guilt, is not a tale of rumour, but a crime of certainty; namely, that -he is the first favourite of the cruel inhuman Empress—if it be true -that she connived at this horrible murder. - -“His Highness was immediately preceded by another Russian nobleman, -whose name I have forgot; and followed by a noble Hessian, General Bawr. - -“Prince Orloff is of stupendous stature, something resembling Mr. -Bruce. He is handsome, tall, fat, upright, magnificent. His dress -was superb. Besides the blue garter, he had a star of diamonds of -prodigious brilliancy, a shoulder knot of the same lustre and value, -and a picture of the Empress hung about his neck, set round with -diamonds of such brightness and magnitude, that, when near the light, -they were too dazzling for the eye. His jewels, Dr. King says, are -estimated at one hundred thousand pounds sterling. - -“His air and address are shewy, striking, and assiduously courteous. -He had a look that frequently seemed to say, ‘I hope you observe that -I come from a polished court?—I hope you take note that I am no -Cossack?’—Yet, with all this display of commanding affability, he -seems, from his native taste and humour, ‘agreeably addicted to -pleasantry.’ He speaks very little English, but knows French perfectly. - -“His introduction to my father, in which Dr. King pompously figured, -passed in the drawing-room. The library was so crowded, that he could -only show himself at the door, which was barely high enough not to -discompose his prodigious toupee. - -“He bowed to Mr. Chamier, then my next neighbour, whom he had somewhere -met; but I was so impressed by the shocking rumours of his horrible -actions, that involuntarily I drew back even from a bow of vicinity; -murmuring to Mr. Chamier, ‘He looks so potent and mighty, I do not like -to be near him!’ - -“‘He has been less unfortunate,’ answered Mr. Chamier, archly, -‘elsewhere; such objection has not been made to him by all ladies!’ - -“Lord Bruce, who knew, immediately rose to make way for him, and moved -to another end of the room. The Prince instantly held out his vast -hand, in which, if he had also held a cambric handkerchief, it must -have looked like a white flag on the top of a mast,—so much higher -than the most tip-top height of every head in the room was his -spread out arm, as he exclaimed, ‘_Ah! mi lord me fuit!_’ - -“His Honour, then, rising also, with a profound reverence, offered -his seat to his Highness; but he positively refused to accept it, and -declared, that if Mr. Brudenel would not be seated, he would himself -retire; and seeing Mr. Brudenel demur, still begging his Highness to -take the chair, he cried with a laugh, but very peremptorily, ‘_Non, -non, Monsieur! Je ne le veux pas! Je suis opiniatre, moi;—un peu comme -Messieurs les Anglais!_’ - -“Mr. Brudenel then re-seated himself: and the corner of a form -appearing to be vacant, from the pains taken by poor Susan to shrink -away from Mr. Orloff, his Highness suddenly dropped down upon it his -immense weight, with a force—notwithstanding a palpable and studied -endeavour to avoid doing mischief—that threatened his gigantic person -with plumping upon the floor; and terrified all on the opposite side of -the form with the danger of visiting the ceiling. - -“Perceiving Susan strive, though vainly, from want of space, to glide -further off from him, and struck, perhaps, by her sweet countenance, -‘_Ah_, _ha!_’ he cried, ‘_Je tiens ici, Je vois, une petite -Prisonnière?!_’ - -“Charlotte, blooming like a budding little Hebe, actually stole into a -corner, from affright at the whispered history of his thumb ferocity. - -“Mr. Chamier, who now probably had developed what passed in my mind, -contrived, very comically, to disclose his similar sentiment; for, -making a quiet way to my ear, he said, in a low voice, ‘I wish Dr. -Burney had invited Omiah here tonight, instead of Prince Orloff!’ -Meaning, no doubt, of the two exotics, he should have preferred the -most innocent! - -“The grand duet of Müthel was now called for, and played. But I can -tell you nothing extra of the admiration it excited. Your Hettina -looked remarkably pretty; and, added to the applause given to the -music, every body had something to observe upon the singularity of the -performers being husband and wife. Prince Orloff was witty quite to -facetiousness; sarcastically marking something beyond what he said, by -a certain ogling, half cynical, half amorous, cast of his eyes; and -declaring he should take care to initiate all the foreign academies -of natural philosophy, in the secret of the harmony that might be -produced by such nuptial concord. - -“The Russian nobleman who accompanied Prince Orloff, and who knew -English, they told us, so well that he was the best interpreter for his -Highness in his visits, gave us now a specimen of his proficiency; for, -clapping his fore finger upon a superfine snuffbox, he exclaimed, when -the duet was finished, ‘Ma foi, dis is so pretty as never I hear in my -life!’ - -“General Bawr, also, to whom Mr. Harris directed my attention, was -greatly charmed. He is tall, and of stern and martial aspect. ‘He is a -man,’ said Mr. Harris, ‘_to be looked at_, from his courage, conduct, -and success during the last Russian war; when, though a Hessian by -birth, he was a Lieutenant General in the service of the Empress of -Russia; and obtained the two military stars, which you now see him wear -on each side, by his valour.’ - -“But the rapture of Lady Edgcumbe was more lively than that of any -other. ‘Oh, Doctor Burney,’ she cried, ‘you have set me a madding! I -would willingly practice night and day to be able to perform in such -a manner. I vow I would rather hear that extraordinary duet played in -that extraordinary manner, than twenty operas!’ - -“Her ladyship was now introduced to Prince Orloff, whom she had not -happened to meet with before; and they struck up a most violent -flirtation together. She invited him to her house, and begged leave to -send him a card. He accepted the invitation, but begged leave to fetch -the card in person. She should be most happy, she said, to receive him, -for though she had but a small house, she had a great ambition. And so -they went on, in gallant courtesie, till, once again, the question was -brought back of the opera, and the Gabrielli. - -“The Prince declared that she had not by any means sang as well as at -St. Petersburgh; and General Bawr protested that, had he shut his eyes, -he should not again have known her. - -“Then followed, to vary the entertainment, singing by Mrs. Brudenel. - -“Prince Orloff inquired very particularly of Dr. King, who we four -young female Burneys were; for we were all dressed alike, on account of -our mourning; and when Dr. King answered, ‘Dr. Burney’s daughters;’ she -was quite astonished; for he had not thought our dear father, he said, -more than thirty years of age; if so much. - -“Mr. Harris, in a whisper, told me he wished some of the ladies -would desire to see the miniature of the Empress a little nearer; the -monstrous height of the Prince putting it quite out of view to his -old eyes and short figure; and _being a man_, he could not, he said, -presume to ask such an indulgence as that of holding it in his own -hands. - -“Delighted to do any thing for this excellent Mr. Harris, and quite at -my ease with poor prosing Dr. King, I told him the wish of Mr. Harris. - -“Dr. King whispered the desire to M. de Demidoff; M. de Demidoff did -the same to General de Bawr; and General de Bawr dauntlessly made the -petition to the Prince, in the name of _The Ladies_. - -“The Prince laughed, rather sardonically; yet with ready good-humour -complied; telling the General, pretty much _sans ceremonie_, to untie -the ribbon round his neck, and give the picture into the possession of -The Ladies. - -“He was very gallant and _debonnaire_ upon the occasion, entreating -they would by no means hurry themselves; yet his smile, as his eye -sharply followed the progress, from hand to hand, of the miniature, had -a suspicious cast of investigating whether it would be worth his while -to ask any favour of them in return! and through all the superb -magnificence of his display of courtly manners, a little bit of the -Cossack, methought, broke out, when he desired to know whether _The -Ladies_ wished for any thing else? declaring, with a smiling bow, and -rolling, languishing, yet half contemptuous eyes, that, if _The Ladies_ -would issue their commands, they should strip him entirely! - -“You may suppose, after that, nobody asked for a closer view of any -more of his ornaments! The good, yet unaffectedly humorous philosopher -of Salisbury, could not help laughing, even while actually blushing at -it, that his own curiosity should have involved _The Ladies_ in this -supercilious sort of sarcastic homage. - -“There was hardly any looking at the picture of the Empress for the -glare of the diamonds. One of them, I really believe, was as big as -a nutmeg: though I am somewhat ashamed to undignify my subject by so -culinary a comparison. - -“When we were all satisfied, the miniature was restored by General Bawr -to the Prince, who took it with stately complacency; condescendingly -making a smiling bow to each fair female who had had possession of it; -and receiving from her in return a lowly courtesy. - -“Mr. Harris, who was the most curious to see the Empress, because his -son, Sir James,[8] was, or is intended to be, minister at her court, -had slyly looked over every shoulder that held her; but would not -venture, he archly whispered, to take the picture in his own hands, -lest he should be included, by the Prince, amongst _The Ladies_, as an -old woman! - -“Have you had enough of this concert, my dear Mr. Crisp? I have given -it in detail, for the humour of letting you see how absorbing of the -public voice is La Gabrielli: and, also, for describing to you Prince -Orloff; a man who, when time lets out facts, and drives in mysteries, -must necessarily make a considerable figure, good or bad—but certainly -not indifferent,—in European history. Besides, I want your opinion, -whether there is not an odd and striking resemblance in general -manners, as well as in Herculean strength and height, in this Siberian -Prince and his Abyssinian Majesty?” - - -CONCERT.—EXTRACT THE SIXTH. - - “My dear Mr. Crisp. - -“I must positively talk to you again of the sweet Baroness Deiden, -though I am half afraid to write you any more details of our Duet -Concerts, lest they should tire your patience as much as my fingers. -But you will be pleased to hear that they are still _à-la-mode_. We -have just had another at the request of M. le Comte de Guignes, the -French ambassador, delivered by Lady Edgcumbe; who not only came again -her lively self, but brought her jocose and humorous lord; who seems as -sportive and as fond of a _hoax_ as any tar who walks the quarter-deck; -and as cleverly gifted for making, as he is gaily disposed for enjoying -one. They were both full of good-humour and spirits, and we liked them -amazingly. They have not a grain of what you style the torpor of the -times. - -Lady Edgcumbe was so transported by Müthel, that when her lord emitted -a little cough, though it did not find vent till he had half stifled -himself to check it, she called out, ‘What do you do here, my Lord, -coughing? We don’t want that accompaniment.’ I wish you could have seen -how drolly he looked. I am sure he was full primed with a ready -repartee. But her ladyship was so intently in ecstacy, and he saw us -all round so intently admiring her enthusiasm, that I verily believe he -thought it would not be safe to interrupt the performance, even with -the best witticism of his merry imagination. - -“We had also, for contrast, the new Groom of the Stole, Lord -Ashburnham, with his key of gold dangling from his pocket. He is -elegant and pleasing, though silent and reserved; and just as -scrupulously high-bred, as Lord Edgcumbe is frolicsomely facetious. - -“But, my dear Mr. Crisp, we had again the bewitching Danish -ambassadress, the Baroness Deiden, and her polite husband, the Baron. -She is really one of the most delightful creatures in this lower world, -if she is not one of the most deceitful. We were more charmed with her -than ever. I wonder whether Ophelia was like her? or, rather, I have no -doubt but she was just such another. So musical, too! The Danish Court -was determined to show us that our great English bard knew what he was -about, when he drew so attractive a Danish female. The Baron seems as -sensible of her merit as if he were another Hamlet himself—though that -is no man I ever yet saw! She speaks English very prettily; as -she can’t help, I believe, doing whatever she sets about. She said to -my father, ‘How good you were, Sir, to remember us! We are very much -oblige indeed.’ And then to my sister, ‘I have heard _no music_ since I -was here last!’ - -“We had also Lord Barrington, brother to my father’s good friend -Daines, and to the excellent Bishop of Salisbury.[9]. His lordship, -as you know, is universally reckoned clever, witty, penetrating, and -shrewd. But he bears this high character any where rather than in his -air and look, which by no means pronounce his superiority of their own -accord. Doubtless, however, he has ‘that within which passeth shew;’ -for there is only one voice as to his talents and merit. - -“His Honour, Mr. Brudenel,—but I will not again run over the names of -the duplicates from the preceding concerts. I will finish my list with -Lord Sandwich. - -“And most welcome he made himself to us, in entering the -drawing-room, by giving intelligence that he had just heard from the -circumnavigators, and that our dear James was well. - -“Lord Sandwich is a tall, stout man, and looks as furrowed and -weather-proof as any sailor in the navy; and, like most of the old -set of that brave tribe, he has good nature and joviality marked in -every feature. I want to know why he is called Jemmy Twitcher in the -newspapers? Do pray tell me that? - -“But why do I prepare for closing my account, before I mention him -for whom it was opened? namely, M. le Comte de Guignes, the French -ambassador. - -“He was looked upon, when he first came over, as one of the handsomest -of men, as well as one of the most gallant; and his conquests amongst -the fair dames of the court were in proportion with those two -circumstances. I hope, therefore, now,—as I am no well-wisher to these -sort of conquerors,—that his defeats, in future, will counter-balance -his victories; for he is grown so fat, and looks so sleek and supine, -that I think the tender tribe will hence-forward be in complete safety, -and may sing, in full chorus, while viewing him, - - “‘Sigh no more, Ladies, sigh no more!’ - -“He was, however, very civil, and seemed well entertained; though -he left an amusing laugh behind him from the pomposity of his exit; -for not finding, upon quitting the music room, with an abrupt -_French leave_, half a dozen of our lackeys waiting to anticipate his -orders; half a dozen of those gentlemen not being positively at hand; -he indignantly and impatiently called out aloud: ‘_Mes gens! où sont -mes gens? Que sont ils donc devenu? Mes gens! Je dis! Mes gens!_’ - -“Previously to this, the duet had gone off with its usual eclât. - -“Lord Sandwich then expressed an earnest desire to hear the Baroness -play: but she would not listen to him, and seemed vexed to be -entreated, saying to my sister Hettina, who joined his lordship in the -solicitation, ‘Oh yes! it will be very pretty, indeed, after all this -so fine music, to see me play a little minuet!’ - -“Lord Sandwich applied to my father to aid his petition; but my -father, though he wished himself to hear the Baroness again, did not -like to tease her, when he saw her modesty of refusal was real; and -consequently, that overcoming it would be painful. I am sure I could -not have pressed her for the world! But Lord Sandwich, who, I suppose, -is heart of oak, was not so scrupulous, and hovered over her, -and would not desist; though turning her head away from him, and waving -her hand to distance him, she earnestly said: ‘I beg—I beg, my lord!—’ - -“Lord Barrington then, who, we found, was an intimate acquaintance of -the ambassador’s, attempted to seize the waving hand; conjuring her to -consent to let him lead her to the instrument. - -“But she hastily drew in her hand, and exclaimed: ‘Fie, fie, my lord -Barrington!—so ill natured!—I should not think was you! Besides, you -have heard me so often.’ - -“‘Madame la Baronne,’ replied he, with vivacity, ‘I want you to play -precisely because Lord Sandwich has not heard you, and because I have!’ - -“All, however, was in vain, till the Baron came forward, and said to -her, ‘_Ma chère_—you had better play something—anything—than give -such a trouble.’ - -“She instantly arose, saying with a little reluctant shrug, but -accompanied by a very sweet smile, ‘Now this looks just as if I was -like to be so much pressed!’ - -“She then played a slow movement of Abel’s, and a minuet of Schobert’s, -most delightfully, and with so much soul and expression, that -your Hettina could hardly have played them better. - -“She is surely descended in a right line from Ophelia! only, now I -think of it, Ophelia dies unmarried. That is horribly unlucky. But, -oh Shakespeare!—all-knowing Shakespeare!—how came you to picture -just such female beauty and sweetness and harmony in a Danish court, -as was to be brought over to England so many years after, in a Danish -ambassadress? - -“But I have another no common thing to tell you. Do you know that my -Lord Barrington, from the time that he addressed the Baroness Deiden, -and that her manner shewed him to stand fair in her good opinion, wore -quite a new air? and looked so high-bred and pleasing, that I could not -think what he had done with his original appearance; for it then had as -good a Viscount mien as one might wish to see on a summer’s day. Now -how is this, my dear Daddy? You, who deride all romance, tell me how it -could happen? I know you formerly were acquainted with Lord Barrington, -and liked him very much—pray, was it in presence of some fair Ophelia -that you saw him?” - - -MRS. SHERIDAN. - -But highest, at this season, in the highest circles of society, from -the triple bewitchment of talents, beauty, and fashion, stood the fair -Linley Sheridan; who now gave concerts at her own house, to which -entrance was sought not only by all the votaries of taste, and admirers -of musical excellence, but by all the leaders of _ton_, and their -numerous followers, or slaves; with an ardour for admittance that was -as eager for beholding as for listening to this matchless warbler; so -astonishingly in concord were the charms of person, manners, and voice, -for the eye and for the ear, of this resistless syren. - -To these concerts Dr. Burney was frequently invited; where he had the -pleasure, while enjoying the spirit of her conversation, the winning -softness of her address, and the attraction of her smiles, to return -her attention to him by the delicacy of accompaniment with which he -displayed her vocal perfection. - - - - -HISTORY OF MUSIC. - - -In the midst of this energetic life of professional exertion, family -avocations, worldly prosperity, and fashionable distinction, Dr. Burney -lost not one moment that he could purloin either from its pleasures or -its toils, to dedicate to what had long become the principal object of -his cares,—his musical work. - -Music, as yet, whether considered as a science or as an art, had been -written upon only in partial details, to elucidate particular points of -theory or of practice; but no general plan, or history of its powers, -including its rise, progress, uses, and changes, in all the known -nations of the world, had ever been attempted: though, at the time -Dr. Burney set out upon his tours, to procure or to enlarge materials -for such a work, it singularly chanced that there started up two -fellow-labourers in the same vineyard, one English, the other Italian, -who were working in their studies upon the same idea—namely, Sir John -Hawkins, and Padre Martini. A French musical historian, also, M. de La -Borde, took in hand the same subject, by a striking coincidence, nearly -at the same period. - -Each of their labours has now been long before the public; and each, as -usual, has received the mede of pre-eminence, according to the sympathy -of its readers with the several views of the subject given by the -several authors. - -The impediments to all progressive expedition that stood in the way -of this undertaking with Dr. Burney, were so completely beyond his -control, that, with his utmost efforts and skill, it was not till the -year 1776, which was six years after the publication of his plan, that -he was able to bring forth his - - -HISTORY OF MUSIC. - -And even then, it was the first volume only that he could publish; nor -was it till six years later followed by the second. - -Greatly, however, to a mind like his, was every exertion repaid by -the honour of its reception. The subscription, by which he had been -enabled to sustain its numerous expences in books, travels, and -engravings, had brilliantly been filled with the names of almost all -that were most eminent in literature, high in rank, celebrated in the -arts, or leading in the fashion of the day. And while the lovers of -music received with eagerness every account of that art in which they -delighted; scholars, and men of letters in general, who hitherto had -thought of music but as they thought of a tune that might be played -or sung from imitation, were astonished at the depth of research, and -almost universality of observation, reading, and meditation, which were -now shewn to be requisite for such an undertaking: while the manner in -which, throughout the work, such varied matter was displayed, was so -natural, so spirited, and so agreeable, that the History of Music not -only awakened respect and admiration for its composition; it excited, -also, an animated desire, in almost the whole body of its readers, to -make acquaintance with its author. - -The History of Music was dedicated, by permission, to her Majesty, -Queen Charlotte; and was received with even peculiar graciousness when -it was presented, at the drawing-room, by the author. The Queen both -loved and understood the subject; and had shewn the liberal exemption -of her fair mind from all petty nationality, in the frank approbation -she had deigned to express of the Doctor’s Tours; notwithstanding they -so palpably displayed his strong preference of the Italian vocal music -to that of the German. - -So delighted was Doctor Burney by the condescending manner of the -Queen’s acceptance of his musical offering, that he never thenceforward -failed paying his homage to their Majesties, upon the two birth-day -anniversaries of those august and beloved Sovereigns. - - - - -STREATHAM. - - -Fair was this period in the life of Dr. Burney. It opened to him a new -region of enjoyment, supported by honours, and exhilarated by pleasures -supremely to his taste: honours that were literary, pleasures that were -intellectual. Fair was this period, though not yet was it risen to its -acme: a fairer still was now advancing to his highest wishes, by free -and frequent intercourse with the man in the world to whose genius and -worth united, he looked up the most reverentially—Dr. Johnson. - -And this intercourse was brought forward through circumstances of -such infinite agreeability, that no point, however flattering, of the -success that led him to celebrity, was so welcome to his honest and -honourable pride, as being sought for at Streatham, and his reception -at that seat of the Muses. - -Mrs. Thrale, the lively and enlivening lady of the mansion, was then -at the height of the glowing renown which, for many years, held her in -stationary superiority on that summit. - -It was professionally that Dr. Burney was first invited to Streatham, -by the master of that fair abode. The eldest daughter of the house[10] -was in the progress of an education fast advancing in most departments -of juvenile accomplishments, when the idea of having recourse to the -chief in “music’s power divine,”—Dr. Burney,—as her instructor in -harmony, occurred to Mrs. Thrale. - -So interesting was this new engagement to the family of Dr. Burney, -which had been born and bred to a veneration of Dr. Johnson; and -which had imbibed the general notion that Streatham was a coterie of -wits and scholars, on a par with the blue assemblages in town of Mrs. -Montagu and Mrs. Vesey; that they all flocked around him, on his return -from his first excursion, with eager enquiry whether Dr. Johnson had -appeared; and whether Mrs. Thrale merited the brilliant plaudits of her -panegyrists. - -Dr. Burney, delighted with all that had passed, was as communicative -as they could be inquisitive. Dr. Johnson had indeed appeared; and -from his previous knowledge of Dr. Burney, had come forward to him -zealously, and wearing his mildest aspect. - -Twenty-two years had now elapsed since first they had opened a -correspondence, that to Dr. Burney had been delightful, and of which -Dr. Johnson retained a warm and pleased remembrance. The early -enthusiasm for that great man, of Dr. Burney, could not have hailed a -more propitious circumstance for promoting the intimacy to which he -aspired, than what hung on this recollection; for kind thoughts must -instinctively have clung to the breast of Dr. Johnson, towards so -voluntary and disinterested a votary; who had broken forth from his -own modest obscurity to offer homage to Dr. Johnson, long before his -stupendous Dictionary, and more stupendous character, had raised him to -his subsequent towering fame. - -Mrs. Thrale, Dr. Burney had beheld as a star of the first magnitude in -the constellation of female wits; surpassing, rather than equalizing, -the reputation which her extraordinary endowments, and the splendid -fortune which made them conspicuous, had blazoned abroad; while her -social and easy good-humour allayed the alarm excited by the report of -her spirit of satire; which, nevertheless, he owned she unsparingly -darted around her, in sallies of wit and gaiety, and the happiest -spontaneous epigrams. - -Mr. Thrale, the Doctor had found a man of sound sense, good parts, good -instruction, and good manners; with a liberal turn of mind, and an -unaffected taste for talented society. Yet, though it was everywhere -known that Mrs. Thrale sportively, but very decidedly, called and -proclaimed him her master, the Doctor never perceived in Mr. Thrale any -overbearing marital authority; and soon remarked, that while, from a -temper of mingled sweetness and carelessness, his wife never offered -him any opposing opinion, he was too wise to be rallied, by a sarcastic -nickname, out of the rights by which he kept her excess of vivacity -in order. Composedly, therefore, he was content with the appellation; -though from his manly character, joined to his real admiration of her -superior parts, he divested it of its commonly understood imputation of -tyranny, to convert it to a mere simple truism. - -But Dr. Burney soon saw that he had little chance of aiding his young -pupil in any very rapid improvement. Mrs. Thrale, who had no passion -but for conversation, in which her eminence was justly her pride, -continually broke into the lesson to discuss the news of the times; -politics, at that period, bearing the complete sway over men’s minds. -But she intermingled what she related, or what she heard, with sallies -so gay, so unexpected, so classically erudite, or so vivaciously -entertaining, that the tutor and the pupil were alike drawn away from -their studies, to an enjoyment of a less laborious, if not of a less -profitable description. - -Dr. Johnson, who had no ear for music, had accustomed himself, like -many other great writers who have had that same, and frequently sole, -deficiency, to speak slightingly both of the art and of its professors. -And it was not till after he had become intimately acquainted with Dr. -Burney and his various merits, that he ceased to join in a jargon so -unworthy of his liberal judgment, as that of excluding musicians and -their art from celebrity. - -The first symptom that he shewed of a tendency to conversion upon this -subject, was upon hearing the following paragraph read, accidentally, -aloud by Mrs. Thrale, from the preface to the History of Music, while -it was yet in manuscript. - - “The love of lengthened tones and modulated sounds, seems - a passion implanted in human nature throughout the globe; - as we hear of no people, however wild and savage in other - particulars, who have not music of some kind or other, with - which they seem greatly delighted.” - -“Sir,” cried Dr. Johnson, after a little pause, “this assertion I -believe may be right.” And then, see-sawing a minute or two on his -chair, he forcibly added: “All animated nature loves music—except -myself!” - -Some time later, when Dr. Burney perceived that he was generally -gaining ground in the house, he said to Mrs. Thrale, who had civilly -been listening to some favourite air that he had been playing: “I have -yet hopes, Madam, with the assistance of my pupil, to see your’s become -a musical family. Nay, I even hope, Sir,” turning to Dr. Johnson, “I -shall some time or other make you, also, sensible of the power of my -art.” - -“Sir,” answered the Doctor, smiling, “I shall be very glad to have a -new sense put into me!” - -The Tour to the Hebrides being then in hand, Dr. Burney inquired of -what size and form the book would be. “Sir,” he replied, with a little -bow, “you are my model!” - -Impelled by the same kindness, when the Doctor lamented the -disappointment of the public in Hawkesworth’s Voyages,—“Sir,” he -cried, “the public is always disappointed in books of travels;—except -your’s!” - -And afterwards, he said that he had hardly ever read any book quite -through in his life; but added: “Chamier and I, Sir, however, read all -your travels through;—except, perhaps, the description of the great -pipes in the organs of Germany and the Netherlands!—” - -Mr. Thrale had lately fitted up a rational, readable, well chosen -library. It were superfluous to say that he had neither authors for -show, nor bindings for vanity, when it is known, that while it was -forming, he placed merely one hundred pounds in Dr. Johnson’s hands for -its completion; though such was his liberality, and such his opinion of -the wisdom as well as knowledge of Doctor Johnson in literary matters, -that he would not for a moment have hesitated to subscribe to the -highest estimate that the Doctor might have proposed. - -One hundred pounds, according to the expensive habits of the present -day, of decorating books like courtiers and coxcombs, rather than -like students and philosophers, would scarcely purchase a single row -for a book-case of the length of Mr. Thrale’s at Streatham; though, -under such guidance as that of Dr. Johnson, to whom all finery seemed -foppery, and all foppery futility, that sum, added to the books -naturally inherited, or already collected, amply sufficed for the -unsophisticated reader, where no peculiar pursuit, or unlimited spirit -of research, demanded a collection for reference rather than for -instruction and enjoyment. - -This was no sooner accomplished, than Mr. Thrale resolved to surmount -these treasures for the mind by a similar regale for the eyes, in -selecting the persons he most loved to contemplate, from amongst his -friends and favourites, to preside over the literature that stood -highest in his estimation. - -And, that his portrait painter might go hand in hand in judgment -with his collector of books, he fixed upon the matchless Sir Joshua -Reynolds to add living excellence to dead perfection, by giving him the -personal resemblance of the following elected set; every one of which -occasionally made a part of the brilliant society of Streatham. - -Mrs. Thrale and her eldest daughter were in one piece, over the -fire-place, at full length. - -The rest of the pictures were all three-quarters. - -Mr. Thrale was over the door leading to his study. - -The general collection then began by Lord Sandys and Lord Westcote, two -early noble friends of Mr. Thrale. - -Then followed - - Dr. Johnson. Mr. Burke. Dr. Goldsmith. - Mr. Murphy. Mr. Garrick. Mr. Baretti. - Sir Robert Chambers, and Sir Joshua Reynolds himself. - -All painted in the highest style of the great master, who much -delighted in this his Streatham gallery. - -There was place left but for one more frame, when the acquaintance with -Dr. Burney began at Streatham; and the charm of his conversation and -manners, joined to his celebrity in letters, so quickly won upon the -master as well as the mistress of the mansion, that he was presently -selected for the honour of filling up this last chasm in the chain of -Streatham worthies. To this flattering distinction, which Dr. Burney -always recognized with pleasure, the public owe the engraving of -Bartolozzi, which is prefixed to the History of Music. - - - - -DR. JOHNSON. - - -The friendship and kindness of heart of Dr. Johnson, were promptly -brought into play by this renewed intercourse. Richard, the youngest -son of Dr. Burney, born of the second marriage, was then preparing for -Winchester School, whither his father purposed conveying him in person. -This design was no sooner known at Streatham, where Richard, at that -time a beautiful as well as clever boy, was in great favour with Mrs. -Thrale, than Dr. Johnson volunteered an offer to accompany the father -to Winchester; that he might himself present the son to Dr. Warton, -the then celebrated master of that ancient receptacle for the study of -youth. - -Dr. Burney, enchanted by such a mark of regard, gratefully accepted the -proposal; and they set out together for Winchester, where Dr. Warton -expected them with ardent hospitality. The acquaintance of Dr. Burney -he had already sought with literary liberality, having kindly given him -notice, through the medium of Mr. Garrick,[11] of a manuscript treatise -on music in the Winchester collection. There was, consequently, already -an opening to pleasure in their meeting: but the master’s reception -of Dr. Johnson, from the high-wrought sense of the honour of such a -visit, was rather rapturous than glad. Dr. Warton was always called an -enthusiast by Dr. Johnson, who, at times, when in gay spirits, and with -those with whom he trusted their ebullition, would take off Dr. Warton -with the strongest humour; describing, almost convulsively, the ecstacy -with which he would seize upon the person nearest to him, to hug in his -arms, lest his grasp should be eluded, while he displayed some picture, -or some prospect; and indicated, in the midst of contortions and -gestures that violently and ludicrously shook, if they did not affright -his captive, the particular point of view, or of design, that he wished -should be noticed. - -This Winchester visit, besides the permanent impression made by its -benevolence, considerably quickened the march of intimacy of Dr. Burney -with the great lexicographer, by the _tête à tête_ journies to and from -Winchester; in which there was not only the ease of companionability, -to dissipate the modest awe of intellectual super-eminence, but -also the certitude of not being obtrusive; since, thus coupled in a -post-chaise, Dr. Johnson had no choice of occupation, and no one else -to whom to turn. - -Far, however, from Dr. Johnson, upon this occasion, was any desire of -change, or any requisition for variety. The spirit of Dr. Burney, with -his liveliness of communication, drew out the mighty stores which Dr. -Johnson had amassed upon nearly every subject, with an amenity that -brought forth his genius in its very essence, cleared from all turbid -dregs of heated irritability; and Dr. Burney never looked back to this -Winchester tour but with recollected pleasure. - -Nor was this the sole exertion in favour of Dr. Burney, of this -admirable friend. He wrote various letters to his own former -associates, and to his newer connexions at Oxford, recommending to them -to facilitate, with their best power, the researches of the musical -historian. And, some time afterwards, he again took a seat in the -chaise of Dr. Burney, and accompanied him in person to that university; -where every head of college, professor, and even general member, vied -one with another in coupling, in every mark of civility, their rising -approbation of Dr. Burney, with their established reverence for Dr. -Johnson. - -Most willingly, indeed, would this great and excellent man have made, -had he seen occasion, far superior efforts in favour of Dr. Burney; an -excursion almost any where being, in fact, so agreeable to his taste, -as to be always rather a pleasure to him than a fatigue. - -His vast abilities, in truth, were too copious for the small scenes, -objects, and interests of the little world in which he lived;[12] -and frequently must he have felt both curbed and damped by the utter -insufficiency of such minor scenes, objects, and interests, to occupy -powers such as his of conception and investigation. To avow this he -was far too wise, lest it should seem a scorn of his fellow-creatures; -and, indeed, from his internal humility, it is possible that he was not -himself aware of the great chasm that separated him from the herd of -mankind, when not held to it by the ties of benevolence or of necessity. - -To talk of humility and Dr. Johnson together, may, perhaps, make the -few who remember him smile, and the many who have only heard of him -stare. But his humility was not that of thinking more lowlily of -himself than of others; it was simply that of thinking so lowlily of -others, as to hold his own conscious superiority of but small scale in -the balance of intrinsic excellence. - -After these excursions, the intercourse of Dr. Burney with Streatham -became so friendly, that Mrs. Thrale desired to make acquaintance with -the Doctor’s family; and Dr. Johnson, at the same time, requested to -examine the Doctor’s books; while both wished to see the house of Sir -Isaac Newton. - -An account of this beginning connection with St. Martin’s-Street -was drawn up by the present Editor, at the earnest desire of the -revered Chesington family-friend, Mr. Crisp; whom she had just, and -most reluctantly, quitted a day or two before this first visit from -Streatham took place. - -This little narration she now consigns to these memoirs, as naturally -belonging to the progress of the friendship of Dr. Burney with Dr. -Johnson; and not without hope that this genuine detail of the first -appearance of Dr. Johnson in St. Martin’s-Street, may afford to the -reader some share of the entertainment which it afforded to the then -young writer. - - -“TO SAMUEL CRISP, ESQ. - - “_Chesington, near Kingston, Surrey._ - - “My dearest Mr. Crisp. - -“My Father seemed well pleased at my returning to my time; so that -is no small consolation and pleasure to me for the pain of quitting -you. So now to our Thursday morning, and Dr. Johnson; according to my -promise. - -“We were all—by we, I mean Suzette,[13] Charlotte,[14] and I,—for my -mother had seen him before, as had my sister Burney;[15] but we three -were all in a twitter, from violent expectation and curiosity for the -sight of this monarch of books and authors. - -“Mrs. and Miss Thrale,[16] Miss Owen, and Mr. Seward,[17] came long -before Lexiphanes. Mrs. Thrale is a pretty woman still, though she has -some defect in the mouth that looks like a cut, or scar; but her nose -is very handsome, her complexion very fair; she has the _embonpoint -charmant_, and her eyes are blue and lustrous. She is extremely lively -and chatty; and shewed none of the supercilious or pedantic airs, so -freely, or, rather, so scoffingly attributed, by you envious lords of -the creation, to women of learning or celebrity; on the contrary, she -is full of sport, remarkably gay, and excessively agreeable. I liked -her in every thing except her entrance into the room, which was rather -florid and flourishing, as who should say, ‘It’s I!—No less a person -than Mrs. Thrale!’ However, all that ostentation wore out in the course -of the visit, which lasted the whole morning; and you could not have -helped liking her, she is so very entertaining—though not simple enough, -I believe, for quite winning your heart. - -“Miss Thrale seems just verging on her teens. She is certainly -handsome, and her beauty is of a peculiar sort; fair, round, firm, and -cherubimical; with its chief charm exactly where lies the mother’s -failure—namely, in the mouth. She is reckoned cold and proud; but I -believe her to be merely shy and reserved; you, however, would have -liked her, and called her a girl of fashion; for she was very silent, -but very observant; and never looked tired, though she never uttered a -syllable. - -“Miss Owen, who is a relation of Mrs. Thrale’s, is good-humoured and -sensible enough. She is a sort of butt, and as such is a general -favourite; though she is a willing, and not a mean butt; for she -is a woman of family and fortune. But those sort of characters are -prodigiously popular, from their facility of giving liberty of speech -to the wit and pleasantry of others, without risking for themselves any -return of the ‘retort courteous.’ - -“Mr. Seward, who seems to be quite at home among them, appears to be a -penetrating, polite, and agreeable young man. Mrs. Thrale says of him, -that he does good to every body, but speaks well of nobody. - -“The conversation was supported with a great deal of vivacity, as usual -when il Signor Padrone is at home; but I can write you none of it, as I -was still in the same twitter, twitter, twitter, I have acknowledged, -to see Dr. Johnson. Nothing could have heightened my impatience—unless -Pope could have been brought to life again—or, perhaps, Shakespeare! - -“This confab. was broken up by a duet between your Hettina and, for the -first time to company-listeners, Suzette; who, however, escaped much -fright, for she soon found she had no musical critics to encounter in -Mrs. Thrale and Mr. Seward, or Miss Owen; who know not a flat from a -sharp, nor a crotchet from a quaver. But every knowledge is not given -to every body—except to two gentle wights of my acquaintance; the one -commonly hight il Padre, and the other il Dadda. Do you know any such -sort of people, Sir? - -“Well, in the midst of this performance, and before the second movement -was come to a close,—Dr. Johnson was announced! - -“Now, my dear Mr. Crisp, if you like a description of emotions and -sensations—but I know you treat them all as burlesque—so let’s -proceed. - -“Every body rose to do him honour; and he returned the attention with -the most formal courtesie. My father then, having welcomed him with the -warmest respect, whispered to him that music was going forward; which -he would not, my father thinks, have found out; and placing him on the -best seat vacant, told his daughters to go on with the duet; while Dr. -Johnson, intently rolling towards them one eye—for they say he does -not see with the other—made a grave nod, and gave a dignified motion -with one hand, in silent approvance of the proceeding. - -“But now, my dear Mr. Crisp, I am mortified to own, what you, who -always smile at my enthusiasm, will hear without caring a straw -for—that he is, indeed, very ill-favoured! Yet he has naturally a -noble figure; tall, stout, grand, and authoritative: but he stoops -horribly; his back is quite round: his mouth is continually opening and -shutting, as if he were chewing something; he has a singular method -of twirling his fingers, and twisting his hands: his vast body is in -constant agitation, see-sawing backwards and forwards: his feet are -never a moment quiet; and his whole great person looked often as if it -were going to roll itself, quite voluntarily, from his chair to the -floor. - -“Since such is his appearance to a person so prejudiced in his favour -as I am, how I must more than ever reverence his abilities, when I tell -you that, upon asking my father why he had not prepared us for such -uncouth, untoward strangeness, he laughed heartily, and said he had -entirely forgotten that the same impression had been, at first, made -upon himself; but had been lost even on the second interview—— - -“How I long to see him again, to lose it, too!—for, knowing the value -of what would come out when he spoke, he ceased to observe the defects -that were out while he was silent. - -“But you always charge me to write without reserve or reservation, and -so I obey as usual. Else, I should be ashamed to acknowledge having -remarked such exterior blemishes in so exalted a character. - -“His dress, considering the times, and that he had meant to put on all -his _best becomes_, for he was engaged to dine with a very fine party -at Mrs. Montagu’s, was as much out of the common road as his figure. He -had a large, full, bushy wig, a snuff-colour coat, with gold buttons, -(or, peradventure, brass,) but no ruffles to his doughty fists; and -not, I suppose, to be taken for a Blue, though going to the Blue Queen, -he had on very coarse black worsted stockings. - -“He is shockingly near-sighted; a thousand times more so than either -my Padre or myself. He did not even know Mrs. Thrale, till she held -out her hand to him; which she did very engagingly. After the first -few minutes, he drew his chair close to the piano-forte, and then bent -down his nose quite over the keys, to examine them, and the four hands -at work upon them; till poor Hetty and Susan hardly knew how to play -on, for fear of touching his phiz; or, which was harder still, how to -keep their countenances; and the less, as Mr. Seward, who seems to be -very droll and shrewd, and was much diverted, ogled them slyly, with a -provoking expression of arch enjoyment of their apprehensions. - -“When the duet was finished, my father introduced your Hettina to him, -as an old acquaintance, to whom, when she was a little girl, he had -presented his Idler. - -“His answer to this was imprinting on her pretty face—not a half touch -of a courtly salute—but a good, real, substantial, and very loud kiss. - -“Every body was obliged to stroke their chins, that they might hide -their mouths. - -“Beyond this chaste embrace, his attention was not to be drawn off -two minutes longer from the books, to which he now strided his way; -for we had left the drawing-room for the library, on account of the -piano-forte. He pored over them, shelf by shelf, almost brushing -them with his eye-lashes from near examination. At last, fixing upon -something that happened to hit his fancy, he took it down, and, -standing aloof from the company, which he seemed clean and clear to -forget, he began, without further ceremony, and very composedly, to -read to himself; and as intently as if he had been alone in his own -study. - -“We were all excessively provoked: for we were languishing, fretting, -expiring to hear him talk—not to see him read!—what could that do for -us? - -“My sister then played another duet, accompanied by my father, to which -Miss Thrale seemed very attentive; and all the rest quietly resigned. -But Dr. Johnson had opened a volume of the British Encyclopedia, and -was so deeply engaged, that the music, probably, never reached his ears. - -“When it was over, Mrs. Thrale, in a laughing manner, said: ‘Pray, -Dr. Burney, will you be so good as to tell me what that song was, and -whose, which Savoi sung last night at Bach’s concert, and which you did -not hear?’ - -“My father confessed himself by no means so able a diviner, not having -had time to consult the stars, though he lived in the house of Sir -Isaac Newton. But anxious to draw Dr. Johnson into conversation, he -ventured to interrupt him with Mrs. Thrale’s conjuring request relative -to Bach’s concert. - -“The Doctor, comprehending his drift, good-naturedly put away his book, -and, see-sawing, with a very humorous smile, drolly repeated, ‘Bach, -sir?—Bach’s concert?—And pray, sir, who is Bach?—Is he a piper?’ - -“You may imagine what exclamations followed such a question. - -“Mrs. Thrale gave a detailed account of the nature of the concert, and -the fame of Mr. Bach; and the many charming performances she had heard, -with all their varieties, in his rooms. - -“When there was a pause, ‘Pray, madam,’ said he, with the calmest -gravity, ‘what is the expence for all this?’ - -“‘O,’ answered she, ‘the expence is—much trouble and solicitation to -obtain a subscriber’s ticket—or else, half a guinea.’ - -“‘Trouble and solicitation,’ he replied, ‘I will have nothing to -do with!—but, if it be so fine,—I would be willing to give,’—he -hesitated, and then finished with—‘eighteen pence.’ - -“Ha! ha!—Chocolate being then brought, we returned to the -drawing-room; and Dr. Johnson, when drawn away from the books, freely, -and with social good-humour, gave himself up to conversation. - -“The intended dinner of Mrs. Montagu being mentioned, Dr. Johnson -laughingly told us that he had received the most flattering note that -he had ever read, or that any body else had ever read, of invitation -from that lady. - -“‘So have I, too,’ cried Mrs. Thrale. ‘So, if a note from Mrs. Montagu -is to be boasted of, I beg mine may not be forgotten.’ - -“‘Your note, madam,’ cried Dr. Johnson, smiling, ‘can bear no -comparison with mine; for I am at the head of all the philosophers—she -says.’ - -“‘And I,’ returned Mrs. Thrale, ‘have all the Muses in my train.’ - -“‘A fair battle!’ cried my father; ‘come! compliment for compliment; -and see who will hold out longest.’ - -“‘I am afraid for Mrs. Thrale,’ said Mr. Seward; ‘for I know that -Mrs. Montagu exerts all her forces, when she sings the praises of Dr. -Johnson.’ - -“‘O yes!’ cried Mrs. Thrale, ‘she has often praised him till he has -been ready to faint.’ - -“‘Well,’ said my father, ‘you two ladies must get him fairly between -you to-day, and see which can lay on the paint the thickest, Mrs. -Montagu or Mrs. Thrale.’ - -“‘I had rather,’ said the Doctor, very composedly, ‘go to Bach’s -concert!’ - -“Ha! ha! What a compliment to all three! - -“After this, they talked of Mr. Garrick, and his late exhibition before -the King; to whom, and to the Queen and Royal Family, he has been -reading Lethe in character; _c’est à dire_, in different voices, and -theatrically. - -“Mr. Seward gave an amusing account of a fable which Mr. Garrick had -written by way of prologue, or introduction, upon this occasion. In -this he says, that a blackbird, grown old and feeble, droops his wings, -&c. &c., and gives up singing; but, upon being called upon by the -eagle, his voice recovers its powers, his spirits revive, he sets age -at defiance, and sings better than ever. - -“‘There is not,’ said Dr. Johnson, again beginning to see-saw, ‘much -of the spirit of fabulosity in this fable; for the call of an eagle -never yet had much tendency to restore the warbling of a blackbird! -‘Tis true, the fabulists frequently make the wolves converse with the -lambs; but then, when the conversation is over, the lambs are always -devoured! And, in that manner, the eagle, to be sure, may entertain the -blackbird—but the entertainment always ends in a feast for the eagle.’ - -“‘They say,’ cried Mrs. Thrale, ‘that Garrick was extremely hurt by the -coldness of the King’s applause; and that he did not find his reception -such as he had expected.’ - -“‘He has been so long accustomed,’ said Mr. Seward, ‘to the thundering -acclamation of a theatre, that mere calm approbation must necessarily -be insipid, nay, dispiriting to him.’ - -“‘Sir,’ said Dr. Johnson, ‘he has no right, in a royal apartment, to -expect the hallooing and clamour of the one-shilling gallery. The King, -I doubt not, gave him as much applause as was rationally his due. And, -indeed, great and uncommon as is the merit of Mr. Garrick, no man will -be bold enough to assert that he has not had his just proportion both -of fame and profit. He has long reigned the unequalled favourite of -the public; and therefore nobody, we may venture to say, will mourn -his hard lot, if the King and the Royal Family were not transported -into rapture upon hearing him read Lethe! But yet, Mr. Garrick will -complain to his friends; and his friends will lament the King’s want of -feeling and taste. But then—Mr. Garrick will kindly excuse the King. -He will say that his Majesty—might, perhaps, be thinking of something -else!—That the affairs of America might, possibly, occur to him—or -some other subject of state, more important—perhaps—than Lethe. But -though he will candidly say this himself,—he will not easily forgive -his friends if they do not contradict him!’ - -“But now, that I have written you this satire of our immortal Roscius, -it is but just, both to Mr. Garrick and to Dr. Johnson, that I should -write to you what was said afterwards, when, with equal humour and -candour, Mr. Garrick’s general character was discriminated by Dr. -Johnson. - -“‘Garrick,’ he said, ‘is accused of vanity; but few men would have -borne such unremitting prosperity with greater, if with equal, -moderation. He is accused, too, of avarice, though he lives rather -like a prince than an actor. But the frugality he practised when he -first appeared in the world, has put a stamp upon his character ever -since. And now, though his table, his equipage, and his establishment, -are equal to those of persons of the most splendid rank, the original -stain of avarice still blots his name! And yet, had not his early, and -perhaps necessary economy, fixed upon him the charge of thrift, he -would long since have been reproached with that of luxury.’ - -“Another time he said of him, ‘Garrick never enters a room, but he -regards himself as the object of general attention, from whom the -entertainment of the company is expected. And true it is, that he -seldom disappoints that expectation: for he has infinite humour, a very -just proportion of wit, and more convivial pleasantry than almost any -man living. But then, off as well as on the stage— he is always an -actor! for he holds it so incumbent upon him to be sportive, that his -gaiety, from being habitual, is become mechanical: and he can exert his -spirits at all times alike, without any consultation of his disposition -to hilarity.’ - -“I can recollect nothing more, my dear Mr. Crisp. So I beg your -benediction, and bid you adieu.” - - * * * * * - -The accession of the musical historian to the Streatham coterie, was -nearly as desirable to Dr. Johnson himself, as it could be to its new -member; and, with reciprocated vivacity in seeking the society of each -other, they went thither, and returned thence to their homes, in _tête -à tête_ junctions, by every opportunity. - -In his chronological doggrel list of his friends and his feats, Dr. -Burney has inserted the following lines upon the Streatham connexion. - - - “1776. - - “This year I acquaintance began with the Thrales, - Where I met with great talents ’mongst females and males: - But the best thing that happen’d from that time to this, - Was the freedom it gave me to sound the abyss, - At my ease and my leisure, of Johnson’s great mind, - Where new treasures unnumber’d I constantly find. - Huge Briareus’s head, if old bards have not blunder’d, - Amounted in all to the sum of one hundred; - And Johnson,—so wide his intelligence spreads, - Has the brains of—at least—the same number of heads.” - - - - -DR. JOHNSON AND THE GREVILLES. - - -A few months after the Streathamite morning visit to St. -Martin’s-street that has been narrated, an evening party was arranged -by Dr. Burney, for bringing thither again Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale, -at the desire of Mr. and Mrs. Greville and Mrs. Crewe; who wished, -under the quiet roof of Dr. Burney, to make acquaintance with those -celebrated personages. - -This meeting, though more fully furnished with materials, produced -not the same spirit or interest as its predecessor; and it owed, -unfortunately, its miscarriage to the anxious efforts of Dr. Burney for -heightening its success. - -To take off, as he hoped, what might be stiff or formidable in an -appointed encounter between persons of such highly famed conversational -powers, who, absolute strangers to one another, must emulously, on -each side, wish to shine with superior lustre, he determined - - To mingle sweet discourse with music sweet; - -and to vary, as well as soften the energy of intellectual debate, -by the science and the sweetness of instrumental harmony. But the -lovers of music, and the adepts in conversation, are rarely in true -unison. Exceptions only form, not mar a rule; as witness Messieurs -Crisp, Twining, and Bewley, who were equally eminent for musical and -for mental melody: but, in general, the discourse-votaries think time -thrown away, or misapplied, that is not devoted exclusively to the -powers of reason; while the votaries of harmony deem pleasure and taste -discarded, where precedence is not accorded to the melting delight of -modulated sounds. - -The party consisted of Dr. Johnson, Mr. and Mrs. Greville, Mrs. Crewe, -Mr., Mrs., and Miss Thrale; Signor Piozzi, Mr. Charles Burney, the -Doctor, his wife, and four of his daughters.[18] - -Mr. Greville, in manner, mien, and high personal presentation, was -still the superb Mr. Greville of other days; though from a considerable -diminution of the substantial possessions which erst had given him -pre-eminence at the clubs and on the turf, the splendour of his -importance was now superseded by newer and richer claimants. And even in -_ton_ and fashion, though his rank in life kept him a certain place, his -influence, no longer seconded by fortune, was on the wane. - -Mrs. Greville, whose decadence was in that very line in which alone her -husband escaped it,—personal beauty,—had lost, at an early period, -her external attractions, from the excessive thinness that had given to -her erst fine and most delicate small features, a cast of sharpness so -keen and meagre, that, joined to the shrewdly intellectual expression -of her countenance, made her seem fitted to sit for a portrait, such as -might have been delineated by Spencer, of a penetrating, puissant, and -sarcastic fairy queen. She still, however, preserved her early fame; -her Ode to Indifference having twined around her brow a garland of -wide-spreading and unfading fragrance. - -Mrs. Crewe seemed to inherit from both parents only what was best. -She was still in a blaze of beauty that her happy and justly poised -_embonpoint_ preserved, with a roseate freshness, that eclipsed even -juvenile rivalry, not then alone, but nearly to the end of a long life. - -With all the unavoidable consciousness of only looking, only speaking, -only smiling to give pleasure and receive homage, Mrs. Crewe, even from -her earliest days, had evinced an intuitive eagerness for the sight of -whoever or whatever was original, or peculiar, that gave her a lively -taste for acquiring information; not deep, indeed, nor scientific; but -intelligent, communicative, and gay. She had earnestly, therefore, -availed herself of an opportunity thus free from parade or trouble, of -taking an intimate view of so celebrated a philosopher as Dr. Johnson; -of whom she wished to form a personal judgment, confirmatory or -contradictory, of the rumours, pro and contra, that had instigated her -curiosity. - -Mr. Thrale, also, was willing to be present at this interview, from -which he flattered himself with receiving much diversion, through the -literary skirmishes, the pleasant retorts courteous, and the sharp -pointed repartees, that he expected to hear reciprocated between Mrs. -Greville, Mrs. Thrale, and Dr. Johnson: for though entirely a man of -peace, and a gentleman in his character, he had a singular amusement -in hearing, instigating, and provoking a war of words, alternating -triumph and overthrow, between clever and ambitious colloquial -combatants, where, as here, there was nothing that could inflict -disgrace upon defeat. - -And this, indeed, in a milder degree, was the idea of entertainment -from the meeting that had generally been conceived. But the first step -taken by Dr. Burney for social conciliation, which was calling for a -cantata from Signor Piozzi, turned out, on the contrary, the herald -to general discomfiture; for it cast a damp of delay upon the mental -gladiators, that dimmed the brightness of the spirit with which, it is -probable, they had meant to vanquish each the other. - -Piozzi, a first rate singer, whose voice was deliciously sweet, and -whose expression was perfect, sung in his very best manner, from his -desire to do honour to _il Capo di Casa_; but _il Capo di Casa_ and -his family alone did justice to his strains: neither the Grevilles nor -the Thrales heeded music beyond what belonged to it as fashion: the -expectations of the Grevilles were all occupied by Dr. Johnson; and -those of the Thrales by the authoress of the Ode to Indifference. When -Piozzi, therefore, arose, the party remained as little advanced in -any method or pleasure for carrying on the evening, as upon its first -entrance into the room. - -Mr. Greville, who had been curious to see, and who intended to examine -this leviathan of literature, as Dr. Johnson was called in the -current pamphlets of the day, considered it to be his proper post to -open the campaign of the _conversatione_. But he had heard so much, -from his friend Topham Beauclerk, whose highest honour was that of -classing himself as one of the friends of Dr. Johnson; not only of -the bright intellect with which the Doctor brought forth his wit and -knowledge; and of the splendid talents with which he displayed them -when they were aptly met; but also of the overwhelming ability with -which he dismounted and threw into the mire of ridicule and shame, the -antagonist who ventured to attack him with any species of sarcasm, that -he was cautious how to encounter so tremendous a literary athletic. He -thought it, therefore, most consonant to his dignity to leave his own -character as an author in the back ground; and to take the field with -the aristocratic armour of pedigree and distinction. Aloof, therefore, -he kept from all; and, assuming his most supercilious air of distant -superiority, planted himself, immovable as a noble statue, upon the -hearth, as if a stranger to the whole set. - -Mrs. Greville would willingly have entered the lists herself, but that -she naturally concluded Dr. Johnson would make the advances. - -And Mrs. Crewe, to whom all this seemed odd and unaccountable, but -to whom, also, from her love of any thing unusual, it was secretly -amusing, sat perfectly passive in silent observance. - -Dr. Johnson, himself, had come with the full intention of passing -two or three hours, with well chosen companions, in social elegance. -His own expectations, indeed, were small—for what could meet their -expansion? his wish, however, to try all sorts and all conditions -of persons, as far as belonged to their intellect, was unqualified -and unlimited; and gave to him nearly as much desire to see others, -as his great fame gave to others to see his eminent self. But his -signal peculiarity in regard to society, could not be surmised by -strangers; and was as yet unknown even to Dr. Burney. This was that, -notwithstanding the superior powers with which he followed up every -given subject, he scarcely ever began one himself; or, to use the -phrase of Sir W. W. Pepys, originated; though the masterly manner -in which, as soon as any topic was started, he seized it in all its -bearings, had so much the air of belonging to the leader of the -discourse, that this singularity was unnoticed and unsuspected, save by -the experienced observation of long years of acquaintance. - -Not, therefore, being summoned to hold forth, he remained silent; -composedly at first, and afterwards abstractedly. - -Dr. Burney now began to feel considerably embarrassed; though still he -cherished hopes of ultimate relief from some auspicious circumstance -that, sooner or later, would operate, he hoped, in his favour, through -the magnetism of congenial talents. - -Vainly, however, he sought to elicit some observations that might -lead to disserting discourse; all his attempts received only quiet, -acquiescent replies, “signifying nothing.” Every one was awaiting some -spontaneous opening from Dr. Johnson. - -Mrs. Thrale, of the whole coterie, was alone at her ease. She feared -not Dr. Johnson; for fear made no part of her composition; and with -Mrs. Greville, as a fair rival genius, she would have been glad, -from curiosity, to have had the honour of a little tilt, in full -carelessness of its event; for though triumphant when victorious, -she had spirits so volatile, and such utter exemption from envy or -spleen, that she was gaily free from mortification when vanquished. -But she knew the meeting to have been fabricated for Dr. Johnson; and, -therefore, though not without difficulty, constrained herself to be -passive. - -When, however, she observed the sardonic disposition of Mr. Greville -to stare around him at the whole company in curious silence, she felt -a defiance against his aristocracy beat in every pulse; for, however -grandly he might look back to the long ancestry of the Brookes and -the Grevilles, she had a glowing consciousness that her own blood, -rapid and fluent, flowed in her veins from Adam of Saltsberg; and, at -length, provoked by the dullness of a taciturnity that, in the midst -of such renowned interlocutors, produced as narcotic a torpor as could -have been caused by a dearth the most barren of human faculties; she -grew tired of the music, and yet more tired of remaining, what as -little suited her inclinations as her abilities, a mere cipher in the -company; and, holding such a position, and all its concomitants, to -be ridiculous, her spirits rose rebelliously above her control; and, -in a fit of utter recklessness of what might be thought of her by her -fine new acquaintance, she suddenly, but softly, arose, and stealing -on tip-toe behind Signor Piozzi; who was accompanying himself on the -piano-forte to an animated _arria parlante_, with his back to the -company, and his face to the wall; she ludicrously began imitating him -by squaring her elbows, elevating them with ecstatic shrugs of the -shoulders, and casting up her eyes, while languishingly reclining her -head; as if she were not less enthusiastically, though somewhat more -suddenly, struck with the transports of harmony than himself. - -This grotesque ebullition of ungovernable gaiety was not perceived by -Dr. Johnson, who faced the fire, with his back to the performer and the -instrument. But the amusement which such an unlooked for exhibition -caused to the party, was momentary; for Dr. Burney, shocked lest the -poor Signor should observe, and be hurt by this mimicry, glided gently -round to Mrs. Thrale, and, with something between pleasantry and -severity, whispered to her, “Because, Madam, you have no ear yourself -for music, will you destroy the attention of all who, in that one -point, are otherwise gifted?” - -It was now that shone the brightest attribute of Mrs. Thrale, sweetness -of temper. She took this rebuke with a candour, and a sense of its -justice the most amiable: she nodded her approbation of the admonition; -and, returning to her chair, quietly sat down, as she afterwards said, -like a pretty little miss, for the remainder of one of the most humdrum -evenings that she had ever passed. - -Strange, indeed, strange and most strange, the event considered, was -this opening intercourse between Mrs. Thrale and Signor Piozzi. Little -could she imagine that the person she was thus called away from holding -up to ridicule, would become, but a few years afterwards, the idol -of her fancy and the lord of her destiny! And little did the company -present imagine, that this burlesque scene was but the first of a drama -the most extraordinary of real life, of which these two persons were -to be the hero and heroine: though, when the catastrophe was known, -this incident, witnessed by so many, was recollected and repeated from -coterie to coterie throughout London, with comments and sarcasms of -endless variety. - -The most innocent person of all that went forward was the laurelled -chief of the little association, Dr. Johnson; who, though his love for -Dr. Burney made it a pleasure to him to have been included in the -invitation, marvelled, probably, by this time, since uncalled upon -to distinguish himself, why he had been bidden to the meeting. But, -as the evening advanced, he wrapt himself up in his own thoughts, in -a manner it was frequently less difficult to him to do than to let -alone, and became completely absorbed in silent rumination: sustaining, -nevertheless, a grave and composed demeanour, with an air by no means -wanting in dignity any more than in urbanity. - -Very unexpectedly, however, ere the evening closed, he shewed himself -alive to what surrounded him, by one of those singular starts of -vision, that made him seem at times,—though purblind to things in -common, and to things inanimate,—gifted with an eye of instinct for -espying any action or position that he thought merited reprehension: -for, all at once, looking fixedly on Mr. Greville, who, without much -self-denial, the night being very cold, pertinaciously kept his station -before the chimney-piece, he exclaimed: “If it were not for depriving -the ladies of the fire,—I should like to stand upon the hearth myself!” - -A smile gleamed upon every face at this pointed speech. Mr. Greville -tried to smile himself, though faintly and scoffingly. He tried, -also, to hold to his post, as if determined to disregard so cavalier -a liberty: but the sight of every eye around him cast down, and every -visage struggling vainly to appear serious, disconcerted him; and -though, for two or three minutes, he disdained to move, the awkwardness -of a general pause impelled him, ere long, to glide back to his chair; -but he rang the bell with force as he passed it, to order his carriage. - -It is probable that Dr. Johnson had observed the high air and mien of -Mr. Greville, and had purposely brought forth that remark to disenchant -him from his self-consequence. - -The party then broke up; and no one from amongst it ever asked, or -wished for its repetition. - -If the mode of the first queen of the _Bas Bleu_ Societies, Mrs. Vesey, -had here been adopted, for destroying the formality of the circle, the -party would certainly have been less scrupulously ceremonious; for if -any two of the gifted persons present had been jostled unaffectedly -together, there can be little doubt that the plan and purpose of Dr. -Burney would have been answered by a spirited conversation. But neither -then, nor since, has so happy a confusion to all order of etiquette -been instituted, as was set afloat by that remarkable lady; whose -amiable and intelligent simplicity made her follow up the suggestions -of her singular fancy, without being at all aware that she did not -follow those of common custom. - - - - -PACCHIEROTTI. - - -The professional history, as well as the opinions of Dr. Burney, are -so closely inserted in his History of Music, that they are all passed -by in the memoirs of his life; but there arrived in England, at this -period, a foreign singer of such extraordinary merit in character as -well as talents, that not to inscribe his name in the list of the -Doctor’s chosen friends, as well as in that which enrols him at the -head of the most supremely eminent of vocal performers, would be -ill proclaiming, or remembering, the equal height in both points to -which he was raised in the Doctor’s estimation, by a union the most -delighting of professional with social excellence. - -Pacchierotti, who came out upon the opera stage in 1778, is first -mentioned, incidentally, in the History of Music, as “a great and -original performer;” and his public appearance afterwards is announced -by this remarkable paragraph. - - “To describe, with merited discrimination, the uncommon and - varied powers of Pacchierotti, would require a distinct - dissertation of considerable length, rather than a short - article incorporated in a general History of Music.” - -The Doctor afterwards relates, that eagerly attending the first -rehearsal of Demofonte, with which opera Pacchierotti began his English -career, and in which, under the pressure of a bad cold, he sang only _a -sotto voce_, his performance afforded a more exquisite pleasure than -the Doctor had ever before experienced, or even imagined. “The natural -tone of his voice,” says the History of Music, “was so interesting, -sweet, and pathetic, that when he had a long note, I never wished him -to change it, or to do any thing but swell, diminish, or prolong it, -in whatever way he pleased. A great compass of voice downwards, with -an ascent up to C in alt.; an unbounded fancy, and a power not only of -executing the most refined and difficult passages, but of inventing new -embellishments which had never then been on paper, made him, during his -long residence here, a new singer to me every time I heard him.” - -A still more exact and scientific detail of his powers is then -succeeded by these words: “That Pacchierotti’s feeling and sentiments -were uncommon, was not only discoverable by his voice and performance, -but by his countenance, in which through a general expression of -benevolence, there was a constant play of features that varyingly -manifested all the changing workings and agitations of his soul. - * * * * When his voice was in order, and obedient to his will, there -was a perfection in tone, taste, knowledge, and sensibility, that my -conception in the art could not imagine possible to be surpassed.” - -And scarcely could this incomparable performer stand higher in the -eminence of his profession, than in that of his intellect, his temper, -and his character. - -If he had not been a singer, he would probably have been a poet; -for his ideas, even in current conversation, ran involuntarily into -poetical imagery; and the language which was their vehicle, was a sort -of poetry in itself; so luxuriantly was it embellished with fanciful -allusions, or sportive notions, that, when he was highly animated in -conversation, the effusions of his imagination resembled his cadences -in music, by their excursionary flights, and impassioned bursts of -deep, yet tender sensibility. - -He made himself nearly as many friends in this country to whom he was -endeared by his society, as admirers by whom he was enthusiastically -courted for his talents. - -The first Mrs. Sheridan, Miss Linley, whose sweet voice and manner so -often moved “the soul to transport, and the eyes to tears,” told Dr. -Burney, that Pacchierotti was the only singer who taught her to weep -from melting pleasure and admiration. - -He loved England even fervently; its laws, customs, manners, and its -liberty. Of this he gave the sincerest proofs throughout his long -life.[19] - -The English language, though so inharmonious compared with his own, -he made his peculiar study, from his desire to mingle with the best -society, and to enjoy its best authors; for both which he had a taste -the most classical and lively. - -He had the truly appropriate good fortune, for a turn of mind and -endowments so literary, to fall in the way of Mr. Mason immediately -upon coming over to this country: few persons could be more capable -to appreciate a union of mental with professional merit, than that -elegant poet; who with both in Pacchierotti was so much charmed, as to -volunteer his services in teaching him the English language. - -So Parnassian a preceptor was not likely to lead his studies from their -native propensity to the Muses; and the epistles and billets which he -wrote in English, all demonstrated that the Pegasus which he spurred, -when composition was his pursuit, was of the true Olympic breed.[20] - -Pacchierotti was attached to Dr. Burney with equal affection and -reverence; while by the Doctor in return, the sight of Pacchierotti -was always hailed with cordial pleasure; and not more from the pathos -of his soul-touching powers of harmony, than from the sweetness, yet -poignancy of his discourse; and the delightful vivacity into which -he could be drawn by his favourites, from the pensive melancholy of -his habitual silence. Timidity and animation seemed to balance his -disposition with alternate sway; but his character was of a benevolence -that had no balance, no mixture whatsoever. - -The Doctor’s doggrel register of 1778, has these two couplets upon -Pacchierotti. - - -“1778. - - “This year Pacchierotti was order’d by Fate - Every vocal expression to teach us to hate, - Save his exquisite tones; which delight and surprise, - And lift us at once from the earth to the skies.” - - - - -LADY MARY DUNCAN. - - -Lady Mary Duncan, the great patroness of Pacchierotti, was one of the -most singular females of her day, for parts utterly uncultivated, and -mother-wit completely untrammelled by the etiquettes of custom. She -singled out Dr. Burney from her passion for his art; and attached -herself to his friendship from her esteem for his character; joined to -their entire sympathy in taste, feeling, and judgment, upon the merits -of Pacchierotti. - -This lady displayed in conversation a fund of humour, comic and -fantastic in the extreme, and more than bordering upon the burlesque, -through the extraordinary grimaces with which she enforced her meaning; -and the risible abruptness of a quick transition from the sternest -authority to the most facetious good fellowship, with which she -frequently altered the expression of her countenance while in debate. - -Her general language was a jargon entirely her own, and so enveloped -with strange phrases, ludicrously ungrammatical, that it was hardly -intelligible, till an exordium or two gave some insight into its -peculiarities: but then it commonly unfolded into sound, and even -sagacious panegyric of some favourite; or sharp sarcasm, and -extravagant mimicry, upon some one who had incurred her displeasure. -Her wrath, however, once promulgated, seemed to operate by its -utterance as a vent that disburthened her mind of all its angry -workings; and led her cordially to join her laugh with that of her -hearers; without either inquiry, or care, whether that laugh were at -her sayings or at herself. - -She was constantly dressed according to the costume of her early days, -in a hoop, with a long pointed stomacher and long pointed ruffles; -and a fly cap. She had a manly courage, a manly stamp, and a manly -hard-featured face: but her heart was as invariably generous and good, -as her manners were original and grotesque. - - - - -“EVELINA: - -OR, - -“A YOUNG LADY’S ENTRANCE INTO THE WORLD.” - - -A subject now propels itself forward that might better, it is probable, -become any pen than that on which it here devolves. It cannot, however, -be set aside in the Memoirs of Dr. Burney, to whom, and to the end of -his life, it proved a permanent source of deep and bosom interest: and -the Editor, with less unwillingness, though with conscious awkwardness, -approaches this egotistic history, from some recent information that -the obscurity in which its origin was encircled, has left, even yet, a -spur to curiosity and conjecture. - -It seems, therefore, a devoir due to the singleness of truth, to cut -short any future vague assertion on this small subject, by an explicit -narration of a simple, though rather singular tale; which, little as in -itself it can be worthy of public attention, may not wholly, perhaps, -be unamusing, from the celebrated characters that must necessarily be -involved in its relation; at the head of which, at this present moment, -she is tempted to disclose, in self-defence—a proud self-defence!—of -this personal obtrusion, the LIVING[21] names of Sir Walter Scott and -Mr. Rogers, who, in a visit with which they favoured her in the year -1826, repeated some of the fabrications to which this mystery of her -early life still gave rise; and condescended to solicit a recital of -the real history of Evelina’s _Entrance into the World_. - -This she instantly communicated; though so incoherently, from the -embarrassment of the subject, and its long absence from her thoughts, -that, having since collected documents to refresh her memory, she -ventures, in gratefully dedicating the little incident to these -Illustrious Inquisitors, to insert its details in these memoirs—to -which, parentally, it in fact belongs.[22] - -FRANCES, the second daughter of Dr. Burney, was during her childhood -the most backward of all his family in the faculty of receiving -instruction. At eight years of age she was ignorant of the letters of -the alphabet; though at ten, she began scribbling, almost incessantly, -little works of invention; but always in private; and in scrawling -characters, illegible, save to herself. - -One of her most remote remembrances, previously to this writing mania, -is that of hearing a neighbouring lady recommend to Mrs. Burney, her -mother, to quicken the indolence, or stupidity, whichever it might be, -of the little dunce, by the chastening ordinances of Solomon. The -alarm, however, of that little dunce, at a suggestion so wide from -the maternal measures that had been practised in her childhood, was -instantly superseded by a joy of gratitude and surprise that still -rests upon her recollection, when she heard gently murmured in reply, -“No, no,—I am not uneasy about her!” - -But, alas! the soft music of those encouraging accents had already -ceased to vibrate on human ears, before these scrambling pot-hooks had -begun their operation of converting into Elegies, Odes, Plays, Songs, -Stories, Farces,—nay, Tragedies and Epic Poems, every scrap of white -paper that could be seized upon without question or notice; for she -grew up, probably through the vanity-annihilating circumstances of this -conscious intellectual disgrace, with so affrighted a persuasion that -what she scribbled, if seen, would but expose her to ridicule, that her -pen, though her greatest, was only her clandestine delight. - -To one confidant, indeed, all was open; but the fond partiality of -the juvenile Susanna made her opinion of little weight; though the -affection of her praise rendered the stolen moments of their secret -readings the happiest of their adolescent lives. - -From the time, however, that she attained her fifteenth year, she -considered it her duty to combat this writing passion as illaudable, -because fruitless. Seizing, therefore, an opportunity, when Dr. Burney -was at Chesington, and the then Mrs. Burney, her mother-in-law, was -in Norfolk, she made over to a bonfire, in a paved play-court, her -whole stock of prose goods and chattels; with the sincere intention -to extinguish for ever in their ashes her scribbling propensity. But -Hudibras too well says— - - “He who complies against his will, - Is of his own opinion still.” - -This grand feat, therefore, which consumed her productions, extirpated -neither the invention nor the inclination that had given them birth; -and, in defiance of all the projected heroism of the sacrifice, the -last of the little works that was immolated, which was the History of -Caroline Evelyn, the Mother of Evelina, left, upon the mind of the -writer, so animated an impression of the singular situations to which -that Caroline’s infant daughter,—from the unequal birth by which she -hung suspended between the elegant connexions of her mother, and -the vulgar ones of her grandmother,—might be exposed; and presented -contrasts and mixtures of society so unusual, yet, thus circumstanced, -so natural, that irresistibly and almost unconsciously, the whole of _A -Young Lady’s Entrance into the World_, was pent up in the inventor’s -memory, ere a paragraph was committed to paper. - -Writing, indeed, was far more difficult to her than composing; for that -demanded what she rarely found attainable—secret opportunity: while -composition, in that hey-day of imagination, called only for volition. - -When the little narrative, however slowly, from the impediments that -always annoy what requires secrecy, began to assume a “questionable -shape;” a wish—as vague, at first, as it was fantastic—crossed the -brain of the writer, to “see her work in print.” - -She communicated, under promise of inviolable silence, this idea to her -sisters; who entered into it with much more amusement than surprise, as -they well knew her taste for quaint sports; and were equally aware of -the sensitive affright with which she shrunk from all personal remark. - -She now copied the manuscript in a feigned hand; for as she was the -Doctor’s principal amanuensis, she feared her common writing might -accidentally be seen by some compositor of the History of Music, and -lead to detection. - -She grew weary, however, ere long, of an exercise so merely manual; -and had no sooner completed a copy of the first and second volumes, -than she wrote a letter, without any signature, to offer the unfinished -work to a bookseller; with a desire to have the two volumes immediately -printed, if approved; and a promise to send the sequel in the following -year. - -This was forwarded by the London post, with a desire that the answer -should be directed to a coffee-house. - -Her younger brother—the elder, Captain James, was ‘over the hills -and far away,’—her younger brother, afterwards the celebrated Greek -scholar, gaily, and without reading a word of the work, accepted a -share in so whimsical a frolic; and joyously undertook to be her agent -at the coffee-house with her letters, and to the bookseller with the -manuscript. - -After some consultation upon the choice of a bookseller, Mr. Dodsley -was fixed upon; for Dodsley, from his father’s,—or perhaps -grand-father’s,—well chosen collection of fugitive poetry, stood -foremost in the estimation of the juvenile set. - -Mr. Dodsley, in answer to the proposition, declined looking at any -thing that was anonymous. - -The party, half-amused, half-provoked, sat in full committee upon this -lofty reply; and came to a resolution to forego the _eclât_ of the west -end of the town, and to try their fortune with the urbanity of the city. - -Chance fixed them upon the name of Mr. Lowndes. - -The city of London here proved more courtly than that of Westminster; -and, to their no small delight, Mr. Lowndes desired to see the -manuscript. - -And what added a certain pride to the author’s satisfaction in this -assent, was, that the answer opened by - -“Sir,”— - -which gave her an elevation to manly consequence, that had not been -accorded to her by Mr. Dodsley, whose reply began - -“Sir, or Madam.” - -The young agent was muffled up now by the laughing committee, in an old -great coat, and a large old hat, to give him a somewhat antique as -well as vulgar disguise; and was sent forth in the dark of the evening -with the two first volumes to Fleet-street, where he left them to their -fate. - -In trances of impatience the party awaited the issue of the examination. - -But they were all let down into the very ‘Slough of Despond,’ when the -next coffee-house letter coolly declared, that Mr. Lowndes could not -think of publishing an unfinished book; though he liked the work, and -should be ‘ready to purchase and print it when it should be finished.’ - -There was nothing in this unreasonable; yet the disappointed author, -tired of what she deemed such priggish punctilio, gave up, for awhile, -and in dudgeon, all thought of the scheme. - -Nevertheless, to be thwarted on the score of our inclination acts more -frequently as a spur than as a bridle; the third volume, therefore, -which finished _The young lady’s entrance into the world_, was, ere -another year could pass away, almost involuntarily completed and copied. - -But while the scribe was yet wavering whether to abandon or to -prosecute her enterprise, the chasm caused by this suspense to the -workings of her imagination, left an opening from their vagaries to a -mental interrogatory, whether it were right to allow herself such an -amusement, with whatever precautions she might keep it from the world, -unknown to her father? - -She had never taken any step without the sanction of his permission; -and had now refrained from requesting it, only through the confusion -of acknowledging her authorship; and the apprehension, or, rather, the -horror of his desiring to see her performance. - -Nevertheless, reflection no sooner took place of action, than she -found, in this case at least, the poet’s maxim reversed, and that - - ‘The female who deliberates—is sav’d,’ - -for she saw in its genuine light what was her duty; and seized, -therefore, upon a happy moment of a kind _tête à tête_ with her father, -to avow, with more blushes than words, her secret little work; and her -odd inclination to see it in print; hastily adding, while he looked -at her, incredulous of what he heard, that her brother Charles would -transact the business with a distant bookseller, who should never know -her name. She only, therefore, entreated that he would not himself ask -to see the manuscript. - -His amazement was without parallel; yet it seemed surpassed by his -amusement; and his laugh was so gay, that, revived by its cheering -sound, she lost all her fears and embarrassment, and heartily joined in -it; though somewhat at the expence of her new author-like dignity. - -She was the last person, perhaps, in the world from whom Dr. Burney -could have expected a similar scheme. He thought her project, however, -as innocent as it was whimsical, and offered not the smallest -objection; but, kindly embracing her, and calling himself _le père -confident_, he enjoined her to be watchful that Charles was discreet; -and to be invariably strict in guarding her own incognita: and then, -having tacitly granted her personal petition, he dropt the subject. - -With fresh eagerness, now, and heightened spirits, the incipient author -rolled up her packet for the bookseller; which was carried to him by a -newly trusted agent,[23] her brother being then in the country. - -The suspense was short; in a very few days Mr. Lowndes sent his -approbation of the work, with an offer of 20_l._ for the manuscript—an -offer which was accepted with alacrity, and boundless surprise at its -magnificence!! - -The receipt for this settlement, signed simply by “_the Editor of -Evelina_,” was conveyed by the new agent to Fleet-street. - -In the ensuing January, 1778, the work was published; a fact which only -became known to its writer, who had dropped all correspondence with Mr. -Lowndes, from hearing the following advertisement read, accidentally, -aloud at breakfast-time, by Mrs. Burney, her mother-in-law. - - _This day was published_, - - EVELINA, - - OR, A YOUNG LADY’S ENTRANCE INTO THE WORLD. - - Printed for T. LOWNDES, Fleet-street. - -Mrs. Burney, who read this unsuspectingly, went on immediately to other -articles; but, had she lifted her eyes from the paper, something more -than suspicion must have met them, from the conscious colouring of the -scribbler, and the irresistible smiles of the two sisters, Susanna and -Charlotte, who were present. - -Dr. Burney probably read the same advertisement the same morning; but -as he knew neither the name of the book, nor of the bookseller, nor the -time of publication, he must have read it without comment, or thought. - -In this projected and intended security from public notice, the author -passed two or three months, during which the Doctor asked not a -question; and perhaps had forgotten the secret with which he had been -entrusted; for, besides the multiplicity of his affairs, his mind, just -then, was deeply disturbed by rising dissension, from claims the most -unwarrantable, with Mr. Greville. - -And even from her own mind, the book, with all that belonged to it, -was soon afterwards chased, through the absorbent fears of seeing -her father dangerously attacked by an acute fever; from which by -the admirable prescriptions and skill of Sir Richard Jebb, he was -barely recovered, when she herself, who had been incautiously eager -in aiding her mother and sisters in their assiduous attendance upon -the invaluable invalid, was taken ill with strong symptoms of an -inflammation of the lungs: and though, through the sagacious directions -of the same penetrating physician, she was soon pronounced to be out -of immediate danger, she was so shaken in health and strength, that Sir -Richard enjoined her quitting London for the recruit of country air. -She was therefore conveyed to Chesington Hall, where she was received -and cherished by a second father in Mr. Crisp; with whom, and his -associates, the worthy Mrs. Hamilton and Miss Cooke, she remained for a -considerable time. - -A few days before she left town, Dr. Burney, in a visit to her bedside, -revealed to her his late painful disagreement with Mr. Greville; but -told her that they had, at length, come to a full explanation, which -had brought Mr. Greville once more to his former and agreeable self; -and had terminated in a complete reconciliation. - -He then read to her, in confidence, a poetical epistle,[24] which he -had just composed, and was preparing to send to his restored friend; -but which was expressed in terms so affecting, that they nearly proved -the reverse of restoration, in her then feeble state, to his fondly -attached daughter. - -Dr. Burney’s intercourse with Mr. Greville was then again resumed; and -continued with rational, but true regard, on the part of Dr. Burney; -but with an intemperate importunity on that of Mr. Greville, that -claimed time which could not be spared; and leisure which could not be -found. - -Evelina had now been published four or five months, though Dr. Burney -still knew nothing of its existence; and the author herself had learnt -it only by the chance-read advertisement already mentioned. Yet had -that little book found its way abroad; fallen into general reading; -gone through three editions, and been named with favour in sundry -Reviews; till, at length, a sort of cry was excited amongst its readers -for discovering its author. - -That author, it will naturally be imagined, would repose her secret, -however sacred, in the breast of so confidential a counsellor as Mr. -Crisp. - -And not trust, indeed, was there wanting! far otherwise! But as she -required no advice for what she never meant to avow, and had already -done with, she had no motive of sufficient force to give her courage -for encountering his critic eye. She never, therefore, ventured, and -never purposed to venture revealing to him her anonymous exploit. - -June came; and a sixth month was elapsing in the same silent -concealment, when early one morning the Doctor, with great eagerness -and hurry, began a search amongst the pamphlets in his study for a -Monthly Review, which he demanded of his daughter Charlotte, who alone -was in the room. After finding it, he earnestly examined its contents, -and then looked out hastily for an article which he read with a -countenance of so much emotion, that Charlotte stole softly behind him, -to peep over his shoulder; and then saw, with surprise and joy, that -he was perusing an account, which she knew to be most favourable, of -Evelina, beginning, ‘A great variety of natural characters—’ - -When he had finished the article, he put down the Review, and sat -motionless, without raising his eyes, and looking in deep—but charmed -astonishment. Suddenly, then, he again snatched the Review, and again -ran over the article, with an air yet more intensely occupied. Placing -it afterwards on the chimney-piece, he walked about the room, as if to -recover breath, and recollect himself; though always with looks of the -most vivid pleasure. - -Some minutes later, holding the Review in his hand, while inspecting -the table of contents, he beckoned to Charlotte to approach; and -pointing to “Evelina,” ‘you know,’ he said, in a whisper, ‘that book? -Send William for it to Lowndes’, as if for yourself; and give it to me -when we are alone.’ - -Charlotte obeyed; and, joyous in sanguine expectation, delivered to him -the little volumes, tied up in brown paper, in his study, when, late at -night, he came home from some engagement. - -He locked them up in his bureau, without speaking, and retired to his -chamber. - -The kindly impatient Charlotte was in his study the next morning with -the lark, waiting the descent of the Doctor from his room. - -He, also, was early, and went straight to his desk, whence, taking out -and untying the parcel, he opened the first volume upon the little ode -to himself,—“Oh author of my being! far more dear,” &c. - -He ejaculated a ‘Good God!’ and his eyes were suffused with tears. - -Twice he read it, and then re-committed the book to his writing desk, -as if his mind were too full for further perusal; and dressed, and went -out, without uttering a syllable. - -All this the affectionate Charlotte wrote to her sister; who read it -with a perturbation inexpressible. It was clear that the Doctor had -discovered the name of her book; and learned, also, that Charlotte was -one of her cabal: but how, was inexplicable; though what would be his -opinion of the work absorbed now all the thoughts and surmises of the -clandestine author. - -From this time, he frequently, though privately and confidentially, -spoke with all the sisters upon the subject; and with the kindliest -approbation. - -From this time, also, daily accounts of the progress made by the -Doctor in reading the work; or of the progress made in the world by -the work itself, were transmitted to recreate the Chesington invalid -from the eagerly kind sisters; the eldest of which, soon afterwards, -wrote a proposal to carry to Chesington, for reading to Mr. Crisp, ‘an -anonymous new work that was running about the town, called Evelina.’ - -She came; and performed her promised office with a warmth of heart -that glowed through every word she read, and gave an interest to every -detail. - -With flying colours, therefore, the book went off, not only with the -easy social circle, but with Mr. Crisp himself; and without the most -remote suspicion that the author was in the midst of the audience; -a circumstance that made the whole perusal seem to that author the -most pleasant of comedies, from the innumerable whimsical incidents -to which it gave rise, alike in panegyrics and in criticisms, which -alternately, and most innocently, were often addressed to herself; and -accompanied with demands of her opinions, that forced her to perplexing -evasions, productive of the most ludicrous confusion, though of the -highest inward diversion. - -Meanwhile, Dr. Burney, uninformed of this transaction, yet justly -concluding that, whether the book were owned or not, some one of the -little committee would be carrying it to Chesington; sent an injunction -to procrastinate its being produced, as he himself meant to be its -reader to Mr. Crisp. - -This touching testimony of his parental interest in its success with -the first and dearest of their friends, came close to the heart -for which it was designed, with feelings of strong—and yet living -gratitude! - -Equally unexpected and exhilarating to the invalid were all these -occurrences: but of much deeper marvel still was the narrative which -follows, and which she received about a week after this time. - -In a letter written in this month, June, her sister Susanna stated -to her, that just as she had retired to her own room, on the evening -preceding its date, their father returned from his usual weekly visit -to Streatham, and sent for her to his study. - -She immediately perceived, by his expanded brow, that he had something -extraordinary, and of high agreeability, to divulge. - -As the Memorialist arrives now at the first mention, in this little -transaction, of a name that the public seems to hail with augmenting -eagerness in every trait that comes to light, she will venture to copy -the genuine account in which that honoured name first occurs; and -which was written to her by her sister Susanna, with an unpretending -simplicity that may to some have a certain charm; and that to no one -can be offensive. - -After the opening to the business that has just been abridged, Susanna -thus goes on. - - * * * * * - -“‘Oh my dear girl, how shall I surprise you! Prepare yourself, I -beseech, not to be too much moved. - -“‘I have such a thing,’ cried our dear father, ‘to tell you about our -poor Fanny!—’ - -“‘Dear Sir, what?’ cried I; afraid he had been betraying your secret to -Mrs. Thrale; which I know he longed to do. - -“He only smiled—but such a smile of pleasure I never saw! ‘Why to -night at Streatham,’ cried he, while we were sitting at tea, only -Dr. Johnson, Mrs. Thrale, Miss Thrale, and myself. ‘Madam,’ cried -Dr. Johnson, see-sawing on his chair, ‘Mrs. Cholmondeley was talking -to me last night of a new novel, which she says has a very uncommon -share of merit; Evelina. She says she has not been so entertained this -great while as in reading it; and that she shall go all over London to -discover the author.’ - -“Do you breathe, my dear Fanny? - -“‘Odd enough!’ cried Mrs. Thrale; ‘why somebody else mentioned that -book to me t’other day—Lady Westcote it was, I believe. The modest -writer of Evelina, she talked about.’ - -“‘Mrs. Cholmondeley says,’ answered the Doctor, ‘that she never before -met so much modesty with so much merit in any literary production of -the kind, as is implied by the concealment of the author.’ - -“‘Well,—’ cried I, continued my father, smiling more and more, -‘somebody recommended that book to me, too; and I read a little of -it—which, indeed—seemed to be above the commonplace works of this -kind.’ - -“Mrs. Thrale said she would certainly get it. - -“‘You _must_ have it, madam!’ cried Johnson, emphatically; ‘Mrs. -Cholmondeley says she shall keep it on her table the whole summer, that -every body that knows her may see it; for she asserts that every body -ought to read it! And she has made Burke get it—and Reynolds.’ - -“A tolerably agreeable conversation, methinks, my dear Fanny! It took -away my breath, and made me skip about like a mad creature. - -“‘And how did you feel, Sir?’ said I to my father, when I could speak. - -“‘Feel?—why I liked it of all things! I wanted somebody to introduce -the book at Streatham. ’Twas just what I wished, but could not expect!’ - -“I could not for my life, my dearest Fanny, help saying that—even if -it should be discovered, shy as you were of being known, it would do -you no discredit. ‘Discredit?’ he repeated; ‘no, indeed!—quite the -reverse! It would be a credit to her—and to me!—and to you—and to -all her family! - -“Now, my dearest Fanny—pray how do you do?—” - -Vain would be any attempt to depict the astonishment of the author at -this communication—the astonishment, or—the pleasure! - -And, in truth, in private life, few small events can possibly have -been attended with more remarkable incidents. That a work, voluntarily -consigned by its humble author, even from its birth, to oblivion, -should rise from her condemnation, and, - - “‘Unpatronized, unaided, unknown,’ - -make its way through the metropolis, in passing from the Monthly Review -into the hands of the beautiful Mrs. Bunbury; and from her’s arriving -at those of the Hon. Mrs. Cholmondeley; whence, triumphantly, it should -be conveyed to Sir Joshua Reynolds; made known to Mr. Burke; be mounted -even to the notice of Dr. Johnson, and reach Streatham;—and that there -its name should first be pronounced by the great lexicographer himself; -and,—by mere chance,—in the presence of Dr. Burney; seemed more like -a romance, even to the Doctor himself, than anything in the book that -was the cause of these coincidences. - -Very soon afterwards, another singular circumstance, and one of great -flutter to the spirits of the hidden author, reached her from the kind -sisters. Upon the succeeding excursion of Dr. Burney to Streatham, Mrs. -Thrale, most unconsciously, commissioned him to order Mr. Lowndes to -send her down Evelina. - -From this moment, the composure of Chesington was over for the -invalid, though not so the happiness! unequalled, in a short time, -that became—unequalled as it was wonderful. Dr. Burney now, from -his numerous occupations, stole a few hours for a flying visit to -Chesington; where his meeting with his daughter, just rescued from the -grave, and still barely convalescent, at a period of such peculiar -interest to his paternal, and to her filial heart, was of the tenderest -description. Yet, earnestly as she coveted his sight, she felt almost -afraid, and quite ashamed, to be alone with him, from her doubts how he -might accept her versified dedication. - -She held back, therefore, from any _tête à tête_ till he sent for her -to his little gallery cabinet; or in Mr. Crisp’s words, conjuring -closet. But there, when he had shut the door, with a significant -smile, that told her what was coming, and gave a glow to her very -forehead from anxious confusion, he gently said, ‘I have read your -book, Fanny!—but you need not blush at it—it is full of merit—it is, -really,—extraordinary!’ - -She fell upon his neck with heart-throbbing emotion; and he folded -her in his arms so tenderly, that she sobbed upon his shoulder; so -moved was she by his precious approbation. But she soon recovered to -a gayer pleasure—a pleasure more like his own; though the length of -her illness had made her almost too weak for sensations that were -mixed with such excess of amazement. She had written the little book, -like innumerable of its predecessors that she had burnt, simply for -her private recreation. She had printed it for a frolic, to see how a -production of her own would figure in that author-like form. But that -was the whole of her plan. And, in truth, her unlooked for success -evidently surprised her father quite as much as herself. - -But what was her start, when he told her that her book was then -actually running the gauntlet at Streatham; and condescended to ask her -leave, if Mrs. Thrale should happen to be pleased with it, to let her -into the secret! - -Startled was she indeed, nay, affrighted; for concealment was still her -changeless wish and unalterable purpose. But the words: ‘If Mrs. Thrale -should happen to be pleased with it,’ made her ashamed to demur; and -she could only reply that, upon such a stipulation, she saw no risk of -confidence, for Mrs. Thrale was no partial relative. She besought him, -however, not to betray her to Mr. Crisp, whom she dreaded as a critic -as much as she loved as a friend. - -He laughed at her fright, yet forbore agitating her apprehensive -spirits by pressing, at that moment, any abrupt disclosure; and, having -gained his immediate point with regard to Mrs. Thrale, he drove off -eagerly and instantly to Streatham. - -And his eagerness there received no check; he found not only Mrs. -Thrale, but her daughter, and sundry visitors, so occupied by Evelina, -that some quotation from it was apropos to whatever was said or done. - -An enquiry was promptly made, whether Mrs. Cholmondeley had yet found -out the author of Evelina?—‘because,’ said Mrs. Thrale, ‘I long to -know him of all things.’ - -The Him produced a smile that, as soon as they were alone, elicited -an explanation; and the kind civilities that ensued may easily be -conceived. - -Every word of them was forwarded to Chesington by the participating -sisters, as so many salutary medicines, they said, for returning -health and strength. And, speedily after, they were followed by a -prescription of the same character, so potent, so superlative, as to -take place of all other mental medicine. - -This was conveyed in a packet from Susanna, containing the ensuing -letter from Mrs. Thrale to Dr. Burney; written two days after she had -put the first volume of Evelina into her coach, as Dr. Johnson was -quitting Streatham for a day’s residence in Bolt Court. - - - “‘Dear Doctor Burney, - -“‘Doctor Johnson returned home last night full of the praises of the -book I had lent him; protesting there were passages in it that might do -honour to Richardson. We talk of it for ever; and he, Doctor Johnson, -feels ardent after the denouement. _He could not get rid of the Rogue!_ -he said. I then lent him the second volume, which he instantly read; -and he is, even now, busy with the third. - -“‘You must be more a philosopher, and less a father than I wish you, -not to be pleased with this letter; and the giving such pleasure yields -to nothing but receiving it. Long, my dear Sir, may you live to enjoy -the just praises of your children! And long may they live to -deserve and delight such a parent!’” - -This packet was accompanied by intelligence, that Sir Joshua Reynolds -had been fed while reading the little work, from refusing to quit it -at table! and that Edmund Burke had sat up a whole night to finish -it!!! It was accompanied, also, by a letter from Dr. Burney, that -almost dissolved the happy scribbler with touching delight, by its -avowal of his increased approbation upon a second reading: “Thou hast -made,” he says, “thy old father laugh and cry at thy pleasure.... I -never yet heard of a novel writer’s statue;[25]—yet who knows?—above -all things, then, take care of thy head, for if that should be at all -turned out of its place by all this intoxicating success, what sort of -figure wouldst thou cut upon a pedestal? _Prens y bien garde!_’ - -This playful goodness, with the wondrous news that Doctor Johnson -himself had deigned to read the little book, so struck, so nearly -bewildered the author, that, seized with a fit of wild spirits, and not -knowing how to account for the vivacity of her emotion to Mr. Crisp, she -darted out of the room in which she had read the tidings by his side, -to a small lawn before the window, where she danced, lightly, blithely, -gaily, around a large old mulberry tree, as impulsively and airily as -she had often done in her days of adolescence: and Mr. Crisp, though -he looked on with some surprise, wore a smile of the most expressive -kindness, that seemed rejoicing in the sudden resumption of that buoyant -spirit of springing felicity, which, in her first visits to Liberty -Hall—Chesington,—had made the mulberry tree the favourite site of her -juvenile vagaries. - -Dr. Burney sent, also, a packet from Mr. Lowndes, containing ten sets -of Evelina very handsomely bound: and the scribbler had the extreme -satisfaction to see that Mr. Lowndes was still in the dark as to his -correspondent, the address being the same as the last;— - - TO MR. GRAFTON, - - _Orange Coffee-House_, - -and the opening of the letter still being, Sir. - -When Chesington air, kindness, and freedom, had completely chased -away every symptom of disease, Dr. Burney hastened thither himself; -and arrived in the highest, happiest spirits. He had three objects in -view, each of them filling his lively heart with gay ideas; the first -was to bring back to his own roof his restored daughter: the second, -was to tell a laughable tale of wonder to the most revered friend of -both, for which he had previously written to demand her consent: and -the third, was to carry that daughter to Streatham, and present her, by -appointment, to Mrs. Thrale, and—to Dr. Johnson! - -No sooner had the Doctor reached Liberty Hall, than the two faithful -old friends were shut up in the _conjuring closet_ where Dr. Burney -rushed at once into “the midst of things,” and disclosed the author of -the little work which, for some weeks past, had occupied Chesington -Hall with quotations, conjectures, and subject matter of talk. - -All that belongs, or that ever can belong, in matters of small moment, -to amazement, is short of what was experienced by Mr. Crisp at this -recital: and his astonishment was so prodigious not to have heard of -her writing at all, till he heard of it in a printed work that was -running all over London, and had been read, and approved of by Dr. -Johnson and Edmund Burke; that, with all his powers of speech, his -choice of language, and his general variety of expression, he could -utter no phrase but “Wonderful!”—which burst forth at once on the -discovery; accompanied each of its details; and was still the only vent -to the fullness of his surprise when he had heard the whole history. - -That she had consulted neither of these parents in this singular -undertaking, diverted them both: well they knew that no distrust -had caused the concealment, but simply an apprehension of utter -insufficiency to merit their suffrages. - -What a dream did all this seem to this Memorialist! The fear, however, -of a reverse, checked all that might have rendered it too delusive; -and she earnestly supplicated that the communication might be spread -no further, lest it should precipitate a spirit of criticism, which -retirement and mystery kept dormant: and which made all her wishes -still unalterable for remaining unknown and unsuspected. - -The popularity of this work did not render it very lucrative; ten -pounds a volume, by the addition of ten pounds to the original twenty, -after the third edition, being all that was ever paid, or ever offered -to the author; whose unaffectedly humble idea of its worth had cast -her, unconditionally, upon any terms that might be proposed. - -Dr. Burney, enchanted at the new scene of life to which he was -now carrying his daughter, of an introduction to Streatham, and -a presentation to Dr. Johnson, took a most cordial leave of the -congratulatory Mr. Crisp; who sighed, nevertheless, in the midst of -his satisfaction, from a prophetic anticipation of the probable and -sundering calls from his peaceful habitation, of which he thought -this new scene likely to be the result. But the object of this kind -solicitude, far from participating in these fears, was curbed from -the full enjoyment of the honours before her, by a well-grounded -apprehension that Dr. Johnson, at least, if not Mrs. Thrale, might -expect a more important, and less bashful sort of personage, than she -was sure would be found. - -Dr. Burney, aware of her dread, because aware of her retired life and -habits, and her native taste for personal obscurity, strove to laugh -off her apprehensions by disallowing their justice; and was himself all -gaiety and spirit. - -Mrs. Thrale, who was walking in her paddock, came to the door of the -carriage to receive them; and poured forth a vivacity of thanks to the -Doctor for bringing his daughter, that filled that daughter with the -most agreeable gratitude; and soon made her so easy and comfortable, -that she forgot the formidable renown of wit and satire that were -coupled with the name of Mrs. Thrale; and the whole weight of her -panic, as well as the whole energy of her hopes, devolved upon the -approaching interview with Dr. Johnson. - -But there, on the contrary, Dr. Burney felt far greater security. -Dr. Johnson, however undesignedly, nay, involuntarily, had been the -cause of the new author’s invitation to Streatham, from being the -first person who there had pronounced the name of Evelina; and that -previously to the discovery that its unknown writer was the daughter -of a man whose early enthusiasm for Dr. Johnson had merited his warm -acknowledgments; and whose character and conversation had since won -his esteem and friendship. Dr. Burney therefore prognosticated, that -such a circumstance could not but strike the vivid imagination of Dr. -Johnson as a romance of real life; and additionally interest him for -the unobtrusive author of the little work, which, wholly by chance, he -had so singularly helped to bring forward. - -The curiosity of Dr. Johnson, however, though certainly excited, was -by no means so powerful as to allure him from his chamber one moment -before his customary time of descending to dinner; and the new author -had three or four hours to pass in constantly augmenting trepidation: -for the prospect of seeing him, which so short a time before would -have sufficed for her delight, was now chequered by the consciousness -that she could not, as heretofore, be in his presence only for her own -gratification, without any reciprocity of notice. - -She was introduced, meanwhile, to Mr. Thrale, whose reception of her -was gentle and gentleman-like; and such as shewed his belief in the -verity of her desire to have her authorship unmarked. - -She saw also Miss Thrale,[26] then barely entered into adolescence, -though full of sense and cultivated talents; but as shy as herself, and -consequently as little likely to create alarm. - -One visitor only was at the house, Mr. Seward, afterwards author of -Biographiana; a singular, but very agreeable, literary, and beneficent -young man. - -The morning was passed in the library, and, to the Doctor and his -daughter was passed deliciously: Mrs. Thrale, much amused by the -presence of two persons so peculiarly situated, put forth her utmost -powers of pleasing; and though that great engine to success, flattery, -was not spared, she wielded it with so much skill, and directed it with -so much pleasantry, that all disconcerting effects were chased aside, -to make it only produce laughter and good humour; through which gay -auxiliaries every trait meant, latently, for the fearful daughter, was -openly and plumply addressed to the happy father. - -“I wish you had been with us last night, Dr. Burney,” she said; “for -thinking of what would happen to-day, we could talk of nothing in the -world but a certain sweet book; and Dr. Johnson was so full of it, -that he quite astonished us. He has got those incomparable Brangtons -quite by heart, and he recited scene after scene of their squabbles, -and selfishness, and forwardness, till he quite shook his sides with -laughter. But his greatest favourite is The Holbourn Beau, as he calls -Mr. Smith. Such a fine varnish, he says, of low politeness! such -struggles to appear the fine gentleman! such a determination to be -genteel! and, above all, such profound devotion to the ladies,—while -openly declaring his distaste to matrimony!——All this Mr. Johnson -pointed out with so much comicality of sport, that, at last, he got -into such high spirits, that he set about personating Mr. Smith -himself! We all thought we must have died no other death than that of -suffocation, in seeing Dr. Johnson handing about any thing he could -catch, or snatch at, and making smirking bows, saying he was _all for -the ladies,—every thing that was agreeable to the ladies_, &c. &c. -&c., ‘except,’ says he, ‘going to church with them! and as to that, -though marriage, to be sure, is all in all to the ladies, marriage -to a man—is the devil!’ And then he pursued his personifications of -his Holbourn Beau, till he brought him to what Mr. Johnson calls his -climax; which is his meeting with Sir Clement Willoughby at Madame -Duval’s, where a blow is given at once to his self-sufficiency, by -the surprise and confusion of seeing himself so distanced; and the -hopeless envy with which he looks up to Sir Clement, as to a meteor -such as he himself had hitherto been looked up to at Snow Hill, that -give a finishing touch to his portrait. And all this comic humour of -character, he says, owes its effect to contrast; for without Lord -Orville, and Mr. Villars, and that melancholy and gentleman-like -half-starved Scotchman, poor Macartney, the Brangtons, and the Duvals, -would be less than nothing; for vulgarity, in its own unshadowed glare, -is only disgusting.” - -This account is abridged from a long journal letter of the -Memorialist; addressed to Mr. Crisp; but she will hazard copying -more at length, from the same source, the original narration of her -subsequent introduction to the notice of Dr. Johnson; as it may not -be incurious to the reader, to see that great man in the uncommon -light of courteously, nay playfully, subduing the fears, and raising -the courage, of a newly discovered, but yet unavowed young author, by -unexpected sallies and pointed allusions to characters in her work; -not as to beings that were the product of her imagination, but as to -persons of his own acquaintance, and in real life. - - -“TO SAMUEL CRISP, ESQ. - -“_Chesington, Kingston, Surrey._ - - * * * * * - -Well, when, at last, we were summoned to dinner, Mrs. Thrale made my -father and myself sit on each side of her. I said, I hoped I did not -take the place of Dr. Johnson? for, to my great consternation, he did -not even yet appear, and I began to apprehend he meant to abscond. -‘No,’ answered Mrs. Thrale; ‘he will sit next to you,—and that, I am -sure, will give him great pleasure.’ - -Soon after we were all marshalled, the great man entered. I have so -sincere a veneration for him, that his very sight inspires me with -delight as well as reverence, notwithstanding the cruel infirmities -to which, as I have told you, he is subject. But all that, outwardly, -is so unfortunate, is so nobly compensated by all that, within, is -excelling, that I can now only, like Desdemona for Othello, ‘view his -image in his mind.’ - -Mrs. Thrale introduced me to him with an emphasis upon my name that -rather frightened me, for it seemed like a call for some compliment. -But he made me a bow the most formal, almost solemn, in utter silence, -and with his eyes bent downwards. I felt relieved by this distance, for -I thought he had forgotten, for the present at least, both the favoured -little book and the invited little scribbler; and I therefore began to -answer the perpetual addresses to me of Mrs. Thrale, with rather more -ease. But by the time I was thus recovered from my panic, Dr. Johnson -asked my father what was the composition of some little pies on his -side of the table; and, while my father was endeavouring to make it -out, Mrs. Thrale said, ‘Nothing but mutton, Mr. Johnson, so I don’t ask -you to eat such poor patties, because I know you despise them.’ - -‘No, Madam, no!’ cried Doctor Johnson, ‘I despise nothing that is good -of its sort. But I am too proud now, [smiling] to eat mutton pies! -Sitting by Miss Burney makes me very proud to-day!’ - -“If you had seen, my dear Mr. Crisp, how wide I felt my eyes open!—A -compliment from Doctor Johnson! - -‘Miss Burney,’ cried Mrs. Thrale, laughing, ‘you must take great care -of your heart, if Mr. Johnson attacks it—for I assure you he is not -often successless!’ - -‘What’s that you say, Madam?’ cried the Doctor; ‘are you making -mischief between the young lady and me already?’ - -A little while afterwards, he drank Miss Thrale’s health and mine -together, in a bumper of lemonade; and then added: ‘It is a terrible -thing that we cannot wish young ladies to be well, without wishing them -to become old women!’ - -‘If the pleasures of longevity were not gradual,’ said my father, ‘If -we were to light upon them by a jump or a skip, we should be cruelly at -a loss how to give them welcome!’ - -‘But some people,’ said Mr. Seward, ‘are young and old at the same -time; for they wear so well, that they never look old.’ - -‘No, Sir, no!’ cried the Doctor; ‘that never yet was, and never will -be! You might as well say they were at the same time tall and short. -Though I recollect an epitaph,—I forget upon whom, to that purpose. - - “‘Miss such a one—lies buried here, - So early wise, and lasting fair, - That none, unless her years you told, - Thought her a child—or thought her old.’ - -My father then mentioned Mr. Garrick’s epilogue to Bonduca, which Dr. -Johnson called a miserable performance; and which every body agreed to -be the worst that Mr. Garrick had ever written. - -‘And yet,’ said Mr. Seward, ‘it has been very much admired. But it is -in praise of English valour, and so, I suppose, the subject made it -popular.’ - -‘I do not know, Sir,’ said Dr. Johnson, ‘any thing about the subject, -for I could not read till I came to any. I got through about half a -dozen lines; but for subject, I could observe no other than perpetual -dullness. I do not know what is the matter with David. I am afraid he -is becoming superannuated; for his prologues and epilogues used to be -incomparable.’ - -“Nothing is so fatiguing,” said Mrs. Thrale, “as the life of a wit. -Garrick and Wilkes are the oldest men of their age that I know; for -they have both worn themselves out prematurely by being eternally on -the rack to entertain others.” - -“David, Madam,” said the Doctor, “looks much older than he is, because -his face has had double the business of any other man’s. It is never at -rest! When he speaks one minute, he has quite a different countenance -to that which he assumes the next. I do not believe he ever kept the -same look for half an hour together in the whole course of his life. -And such a perpetual play of the muscles must certainly wear a man’s -face out before his time.” - -While I was cordially laughing at this idea, the Doctor, who had -probably observed in me some little uneasy trepidation, and now, I -suppose, concluded me restored to my usual state, suddenly, though very -ceremoniously, as if to begin some acquaintance with me, requested -that I would help him to some broccoli. This I did; but when he took -it, he put on a face of humorous discontent, and said, ‘Only _this_, -Madam?—You would not have helped Mr. Macartney so parsimoniously!’ - -He affected to utter this in a whisper; but to see him directly -address me, caught the attention of all the table, and every one -smiled, though in silence; while I felt so surprised and so foolish! so -pleased and so ashamed, that I hardly knew whether he meant _my_ Mr. -Macartney, or spoke at random of some other. This, however, he soon -put beyond all doubt, by very composedly adding, while contemptuously -regarding my imputed parsimony on his plate: “Mr. Macartney, it is -true, might have most claim to liberality, poor fellow!—for how, as -Tom Brangton shrewdly remarks, should he ever have known what a good -dinner was, if he had never come to England?” - -Perceiving, I suppose—for it could not be very difficult to -discern—the commotion into which this explication put me; and the -stifled disposition to a contagious laugh, which was suppressed, not to -add to my embarrassment; he quickly, but quietly, went on to a general -discourse upon Scotland, descriptive and political; but without point -or satire—though I cannot, my dear Mr. Crisp, give you one word of -it: not because I have forgotten it—for there is no remembering what -we have never heard; but because I could only generally gather the -subject. I could not listen to it. I was so confused and perturbed -between pleasure and vexation—pleasure, indeed, in the approvance of -Dr. Johnson! but vexation, and great vexation to find, by the conscious -smirks of all around, that I was betrayed to the whole party! while I -had only consented to confiding in Mrs. Thrale; all, no doubt, from -a mistaken notion that I had merely meant to feel the pulse of the -public, and to avow, or to conceal myself, according to its beatings: -when heaven knows—and you, my dear Mr. Crisp, know, that I had not the -most distant purpose of braving publicity, under success, any more than -under failure. - -From Scotland, the talk fell, but I cannot tell how, upon some friend -of Dr. Johnson’s, of whom I did not catch the name; so I will call -him Mr. Three Stars, * * *; of whom Mr. Seward related some burlesque -anecdotes, from which Mr. * * * was warmly vindicated by the Doctor. - -“Better say no more, Mr. Seward,” cried Mrs. Thrale, “for Mr. * * * is -one of the persons that Mr. Johnson will suffer no one to abuse but -himself! Garrick is another: for if any creature but himself says a -word against Garrick—Mr. Johnson will brow-beat him in a moment.” - -“Why, Madam, as to David,” answered the Doctor, very calmly, ‘it is -only because they do not know when to abuse and when to praise him; -and I will allow no man to speak any ill of David, that he does not -deserve. As to * * *,—why really I believe him to be an honest man, -too, at the bottom. But, to be sure, he is rather penurious; and he is -somewhat mean; and it must be owned he has some degree of brutality; -and is not without a tendency to savageness, that cannot well be -defended.’ - -We all laughed, as he could not help doing himself, at such a curious -mode of taking up his friend’s justification. And he then related -a trait of another friend who had belonged to some club[27] that -the Doctor frequented, who, after the first or second night of his -admission, desired, as he eat no supper, to be excused paying his share -for the collation. - -“And was he excused, Sir?” cried my father. - -“Yes, Sir; and very readily. No man is angry with another for being -inferior to himself. We all admitted his plea publicly—for the -gratification of scorning him privately! For my own part, I was fool -enough to constantly pay my share for the wine, which I never tasted. -But my poor friend Sir John, it cannot well be denied, was but an -unclubbable man.” - -How delighted was I to hear this master of languages, this awful, this -dreaded lexiphanes, thus sportively and gaily coin burlesque words in -social comicality! - -I don’t know whether he deigned to watch me, but I caught a glance of -his eye that seemed to shew pleasure in perceiving my surprise and -diversion, for with increased glee of manner he proceeded.— - -“This reminds me of a gentleman and lady with whom I once travelled. I -suppose I must call them gentleman and lady, according to form, because -they travelled in their own coach and four horses. But, at the first -inn where we stopped to water the cattle, the lady called to a waiter -for—a pint of ale! And, when it came, she would not taste it, till -she had wrangled with the man for not bringing her fuller measure! -Now—Madame Duval could not have done a grosser thing!” - -A sympathetic simper now ran from mouth to mouth, save to mine, and to -that of Dr. Johnson; who gravely pretended to pass off what he had -said as if it were a merely accidental reminiscence of some vulgar old -acquaintance of his own. And this, as undoubtedly, and most kindly, he -projected, prevented any sort of answer that might have made the book -a subject of general discourse. And presently afterwards, he started -some other topic, which he addressed chiefly to Mr. Thrale. But if -you expect me to tell you what it was, you think far more grandly of -my powers of attention without, when all within is in a whirl, than I -deserve! - -Be it, however, what it might, the next time there was a pause, we -all observed a sudden play of the muscles in the countenance of the -Doctor, that shewed him to be secretly enjoying some ludicrous idea: -and accordingly, a minute or two after, he pursed up his mouth, and, in -an assumed pert, yet feminine accent, while he tossed up his head to -express wonder, he affectedly minced out, “La, Polly!—only think! Miss -has danced with a Lord!” - -This was resistless to the whole set, and a general, though a gentle -laugh, became now infectious; in which, I must needs own to you, I -could not, with all my embarrassment, and all my shame, and all my -unwillingness to demonstrate my consciousness, help being caught—so -indescribably ludicrous and unexpected was a mimicry of Miss Biddy -Brangton from Dr. Johnson! - -The Doctor, however, with a refinement of delicacy of which I have -the deepest sense, never once cast his eyes my way during these comic -traits; though those of every body else in the company had scarcely for -a moment any other direction. - -But imagine my relief and my pleasure, in playfulness such as this -from the great literary Leviathan, whom I had dreaded almost as much -as I had honoured! How far was I from dreaming of such sportive -condescension! He clearly wished to draw the little snail from her -cell, and, when once she was out, not to frighten her back. He seems to -understand my _queeralities_—as some one has called my not liking to -be set up for a sign-post—with more leniency than any body else.” - - * * * * * - -This long article of Evelina, will be closed by copying a brief one -upon the same subject, written from memory, by Dr. Burney, so late in -his life as the year 1808. - - -_Copied from a Memorandum-book of Dr. Burney’s, written in the year -1808, at Bath._ - -“The literary history of my second daughter, Fanny, now Madame -d’Arblay, is singular. She was wholly unnoticed in the nursery for any -talents, or quickness of study: indeed, at eight years old she did not -know her letters; and her brother, the tar, who in his boyhood had a -natural genius for hoaxing, used to pretend to teach her to read; and -gave her a book topsy-turvy, which he said she never found out! She -had, however, a great deal of invention and humour in her childish -sports; and used, after having seen a play in Mrs. Garrick’s box, to -take the actors off, and compose speeches for their characters; for -she could not read them. But in company, or before strangers, she -was silent, backward, and timid, even to sheepishness: and, from her -shyness, had such profound gravity and composure of features, that -those of my friends who came often to my house, and entered into the -different humours of the children, never called Fanny by any other -name, from the time she had reached her eleventh year, than The Old -Lady. - -Her first work, Evelina, was written by stealth, in a closet up two -pair of stairs, that was appropriated to the younger children as a -play room. No one was let into the secret but my third daughter, -afterwards Mrs. Phillips; though even to her it was never read till -printed, from want of private opportunity. To me, nevertheless, she -confidentially owned that she was going, through her brother Charles, -to print a little work, but she besought me never to ask to see it. I -laughed at her plan, but promised silent acquiescence; and the book -had been six months published before I even heard its name; which I -learnt at last without her knowledge. But great, indeed, was then my -surprise, to find that it was in general reading, and commended in no -common manner in the several Reviews of the times. Of this she was -unacquainted herself, as she was then ill, and in the country. When -I knew its title, I commissioned one of her sisters to procure it -for me privately. I opened the first volume with fear and trembling; -not having the least idea that, without the use of the press, or any -practical knowledge of the world, she could write a book worth reading. -The dedication to myself, however, brought tears into my eyes; and -before I had read half the first volume I was much surprised, and, -I confess, delighted; and most especially with the letters of Mr. -Villars. She had always had a great affection for me; had an excellent -heart, and a natural simplicity and probity about her that wanted no -teaching. In her plays with her sisters, and some neighbour’s children, -this straightforward morality operated to an uncommon degree in one so -young. There lived next door to me, at that time, in Poland street, and -in a private house, a capital hair merchant, who furnished peruques to -the judges, and gentlemen of the law. The merchant’s female children -and mine, used to play together in the little garden behind the house; -and, unfortunately, one day, the door of the wig magazine being left -open, they each of them put on one of those dignified ornaments of the -head, and danced and jumped about in a thousand antics, laughing till -they screamed at their own ridiculous figures. Unfortunately, in their -vagaries, one of the flaxen wigs, said by the proprietor to be worth -upwards of ten guineas—in those days a price enormous—fell into a tub -of water, placed for the shrubs in the little garden, and lost all its -gorgon buckle, and was declared by the owner to be totally spoilt. He -was extremely angry, and chid very severely his own children; when my -little daughter, the old lady, then ten years of age, advancing to him, -as I was informed, with great gravity and composure, sedately says; -“What signifies talking so much about an accident? The wig is wet, to -be sure; and the wig was a good wig, to be sure; but its of no use to -speak of it any more; because what’s done can’t be undone.” - -“Whether these stoical sentiments appeased the enraged peruquier, I -know not, but the younkers were stript of their honours, and my little -monkies were obliged to retreat without beat of drum, or colours -flying.” - - - - -STREATHAM. - - -From the very day of this happy inauguration of his daughter at -Streatham, the Doctor had the parental gratification of seeing her -as flatteringly greeted there as himself. So vivacious, indeed, was -the partiality towards her of its inhabitants, that they pressed him -to make over to them all the time he could spare her from her home; -and appropriated an apartment as sacredly for her use, when she could -occupy it, as another, far more deservedly, though not more cordially, -had, many years previously, been held sacred for Dr. Johnson. - -The social kindness for both father and daughter, of Mrs. Thrale, was -of the most endearing nature; trusting, confidential, affectionate. She -had a sweetness of manner, and an activity of service for those she -loved, that could ill be appreciated by others; for though copiously -flattering in her ordinary address to strangers, because always -desirous of universal suffrage, she spoke of individuals in general -with sarcasm; and of the world at large with sovereign contempt. - -Flighty, however, not malignant, was her sarcasm; and ludicrous more -frequently than scornful, her contempt. She wished no one ill. She -would have done any one good; but she could put no restraint upon wit -that led to a brilliant point, or that was productive of laughing -admiration: though her epigram once pronounced, she thought neither of -that nor of its object any more; and was just as willing to be friends -with a person whom she had held up to ridicule, as with one whom she -had laboured to elevate by panegyric. - -Her spirits, in fact, rather ruled than exhilarated her; and were -rather her guides than her support. Not that she was a child of nature. -She knew the world, and gaily boasted that she had studied mankind -in what she called its most prominent school-electioneering. She was -rather, therefore, from her scoff of all consequences, a child of witty -irreflection. - -The first name on the list of the Streatham coterie at this time, was -that which, after Dr. Johnson’s, was the first, also, in the nation, -Edmund Burke. But his visits now, from whatever cause, were so rare, -that Dr. Burney never saw him in the Streatham constellation, save as -making one amongst the worthies whom the pencil of Sir Joshua Reynolds -had caught from all mundane meanderings, to place there as a fixed star. - -Next ranked Sir Joshua Reynolds himself, and Mr. Garrick. - -Dr. Goldsmith, who had been a peculiar favourite in the set, as much, -perhaps, for his absurdities as for his genius, was already gone; -though still, and it may be from this double motive, continually -missed and regretted: for what, in a chosen coterie, could be more -amusing,—many as are the things that might be more edifying,—than -gathering knowledge and original ideas in one moment, from the man who -the next, by the simplicity of his egotism, expanded every mouth by the -merriment of ridicule? - -Mrs. Montagu, Mrs. Boscowen, Mrs. Crewe, Lord Loughborough, Mr. -Dunning,[28] Lord Mulgrave, Lord Westcote, Sir Lucas and Mr. Pepys[29] -Major Holroyd,[30] Mrs. Hinchcliffe, Mrs. Porteus, Miss Streatfield, -Miss Gregory,[31] Dr. Lort, the Bishops of London and Peterborough -(Porteus and Hinchcliffe), with a long _et cætera_ of visitors less -marked, filled up the brilliant catalogue of the spirited associates of -Streatham. - - - - -MR. MURPHY. - - -But the most intimate in the house, amongst the Wits, from being the -personal favourite of Mr. Thrale, was Mr. Murphy; who, for gaiety -of spirits, powers of dramatic effect, stories of strong humour and -resistless risibility, was nearly unequalled: and they were coupled -with politeness of address, gentleness of speech, and well bred, almost -courtly, demeanour. - -He was a man of great erudition,[32] without one particle of pedantry; -and a stranger not only to spleen and malevolence, but the happiest -promoter of convivial hilarity. - -With what pleasure, and what pride, does the editor copy, from an -ancient diary, the following words that passed between Dr. Johnson -and Mr. Murphy, relative to Dr. Burney, upon the first meeting of the -editor with Mr. Murphy at Streatham! - -Mrs. Thrale was lamenting the sudden disappearance of Dr. Burney, who -was just gone to town _sans adieu_; declaring that he was the most -complete male-coquet she knew, for he only gave just enough of his -company to make more desired. - -“Dr. Burney,” said Mr. Murphy, “is, indeed, a most extraordinary man. I -think I do not know such another. He is at home upon all subjects; and -upon all is so highly agreeable! I look upon him as a wonderful man.” - -“I love Burney!” cried Dr. Johnson, emphatically: “my heart, as I told -him—goes out to meet Burney!” - -“He is not ungrateful, Sir,” cried the Doctor’s bairne, “for heartily -indeed does he love you!” - -“Does he, Madam?” said the Doctor, looking at her earnestly: “I am -surprised at that!” - -“And why, Sir?—Why should you have doubted it?” - -“Because, Madam,” answered he, gravely, “Dr. Burney is a man for every -body to love. It is but natural to love _him_!” - -He paused, as if with an idea of a self-conceived contrast not -gaifying; but he soon cheerfully added, “I question if there be in -the world such another man, altogether, for mind, intelligence, and -manners, as Dr. Burney.” - -Dr. Johnson, at this time, was engaged in writing his Lives of the -Poets; a work, to him, so light and easy, that it never robbed his -friends of one moment of the time that he would, otherwise, have spared -to their society. Lives, however, strictly speaking, they are not; he -merely employed in them such materials, with respect to biography, -as he had already at hand, without giving himself any trouble in -researches for what might be new, or unknown; though he gladly accepted -any that were offered to him, if well authenticated, The critical -investigations alone he considered as his business. He himself never -named them but as prefaces. No man held in nobler scorn, a promise that -out-went performance. - -The ease and good-humour with which he fulfilled this engagement, made -the present a moment peculiarly propitious for the opening acquaintance -with him of the new, and by no means very hardened author; for whose -terrors of public notice he had a mercy the most indulgent. He quickly -saw that—whether wise or not—they were true; and soothed them without -raillery or reprehension; though in this he stood nearly alone! Her -fears of him, therefore, were soon softened off by his kindness; or -dispelled by her admiration. - -The friendship with which so early he had honoured the father, was -gently and at once, with almost unparalleled partiality, extended to -the daughter: and, in truth, the whole current of his intercourse with -both was as unruffled by storm as it was enlightened by wisdom. - -While this charming work was in its progress, when only the Thrale -family and its nearly adopted guests, the two Burneys, were assembled, -Dr. Johnson would frequently produce one of its proof sheets to -embellish the breakfast table, which was always in the library; and -was, certainly, the most sprightly and agreeable meeting of the day; -for then, as no strangers were present to stimulate exertion, or -provoke rivalry, argument was not urged on by the mere spirit of -victory; it was instigated only by such truisms as could best bring -forth that conflict of _pros_ and _cons_ which elucidates opposing -opinions. Wit was not flashed with the keen sting of satire; yet it -elicited not less gaiety from sparkling with an unwounding brilliancy, -which brightened without inflaming, every eye, and charmed without -tingling, every ear. - -These proof sheets Mrs. Thrale was permitted to read aloud; and the -discussions to which they led were in the highest degree entertaining. -Dr. Burney wistfully desired to possess one of them; but left to his -daughter the risk of the petition. A hint, however, proved sufficient, -and was understood not alone with compliance, but vivacity. Boswell, -Dr. Johnson said, had engaged Frank Barber, his negro servant, to -collect and preserve all the proof sheets; but though it had not been -without the knowledge, it was without the order or the interference -of their author: to the present solicitor, therefore, willingly -and without scruple, he now offered an entire life; adding, with a -benignant smile, “Choose your poet!” - -Without scruple, also, was the acceptance; and, without hesitation, -the choice was Pope. And that not merely because, next to Shakespeare -himself, Pope draws human characters the most veridically, perhaps, -of any poetic delineator; but for yet another reason. Dr. Johnson -composed with so ready an accuracy, that he sent his copy to the -press unread; reserving all his corrections for the proof sheets:[33] -and, consequently, as not even Dr. Johnson could read twice without -ameliorating some passages, his proof sheets were at times liberally -marked with changes; and, as the Museum copy of Pope’s Translation of -the Iliad, from which Dr. Johnson has given many examples, contains -abundant emendations by Pope, the Memorialist secured at once, on the -same page, the marginal alterations and second thoughts of that great -author, and of his great biographer. - -When the book was published, Dr. Johnson brought to Streatham a complete -set, handsomely bound, of the Works of the Poets, as well as his own -Prefaces, to present to Mr. and Mrs. Thrale. And then, telling this -Memorialist that to the King, and to the chiefs of Streatham alone he -could offer so large a tribute, he most kindly placed before her a -bound copy of his own part of the work; in the title page of which he -gratified her earnest request by writing her name, and “From the Author.” - -After which, at her particular solicitation, he gave her a small -engraving of his portrait from the picture of Sir Joshua Reynolds. And -while, some time afterwards, she was examining it at a distant table, -Dr. Johnson, in passing across the room, stopt to discover by what she -was occupied; which he no sooner discerned, than he began see-sawing -for a moment or two in silence; and then, with a ludicrous half laugh, -peeping over her shoulder, he called out: “Ah ha!—Sam Johnson!—I see -thee!—and an ugly dog thou art!” - -He even extended his kindness to a remembrance of Mr. Bewley, the -receiver and preserver of the wisp of a Bolt Court hearth-broom, as -a relic of the Author of the Rambler; which anecdote Dr. Burney had -ventured to confess: and Dr. Johnson now, with his compliments, sent a -set of the Prefaces to St. Martin’s-street, directed, - - “_For the Broom Gentleman_:” - -which Mr. Bewley received with rapturous gratitude. - -Dr. Johnson wrote nothing that was so immediately popular as his -Lives of the Poets. Such a subject was of universal attraction, and he -treated it with a simplicity that made it of universal comprehension. -In all that belonged to classical criticism, he had a facility so -complete, that to speak or to write produced immediately the same clear -and sagacious effect. His pen was as luminous as his tongue, and his -tongue was as correct as his pen. - -Yet those—and there are many—who estimate these Prefaces as the -best of his works, must surely so judge them from a species of -mental indolence, that prefers what is easiest of perusal to what -is most illuminating: for rich as are these Prefaces in ideas and -information, their subjects have so long been familiar to every English -reader, that they require no stretch of intellect, or exercise of -reflection, to lead him, without effort, to accompany the writer in -his annotations and criticisms. The Rambler, on the contrary, embodies -a course equally new of Thought and of Expression; the development -of which cannot always be foreseen, even by the deepest reasoner and -the keenest talents, because emanating from original genius. To make -acquaintance, therefore, with the Rambler, the general peruser must -pause, occasionally, to think as well as to read; and to clear away -sundry mists of prejudice, or ignorance, ere he can keep pace with the -sublime author, when the workings of his mind, his imagination, and his -knowledge, are thrown upon mankind. - - - - -MR. CRISP. - - -The warm and venerating attachment of Dr. Burney to Mr. Crisp, which -occasional discourse and allusions had frequently brought forward, -impressed the whole Thrale family with a high opinion of the character -and endowments of that excelling man. And when they found, also, that -Mr. Crisp had as animated a votary in so much younger a person as their -new guest; and that this enthusiasm was general throughout the Doctor’s -house, they earnestly desired to view and to know a man of such eminent -attraction; and gave to Dr. Burney a commission to bring on the -acquaintance. - -It was given, however, in vain. Mr. Crisp had no longer either health -or spirit of enterprize for so formidable, however flattering, a new -connexion; and inexorably resisted every overture for a meeting. - -But Mrs. Thrale, all alive for whatever was piquant and promising, -grew so bewitched by the delight with which her new young ally, to whom -she became daily more attached and more attaching, dilated on the rare -perfections of _Daddy Crisp_; and the native and innocent pleasures -of Liberty Hall, Chesington, that she started the plan of a little -excursion for taking the premises by surprise. And Dr. Burney, certain -that two such singularly accomplished persons could not meet but to -their mutual gratification; sanctioned the scheme; Mr. Thrale desired -to form his own judgment of so uncommon a Recluse; and the Doctor’s -pupil felt a juvenile curiosity to make one in the group. - -The party took place; but its pleasure was nearly marred by the failure -of the chief spring which would have put into motion, and set to -harmony, the various persons who composed its drama. - -Dr. Burney, from multiplicity of avocations, was forced, when the day -arrived, to relinquish his share in the little invasion; which cast -a damp upon the gaiety of the project, both to the besieged and the -besiegers. Yet Mr. Crisp and Mrs. Thrale met with mutual sentiments of -high esteem, though the genius of their talents was dissimilar; Mrs. -Thrale delighted in bursting forth with sudden flashes of wit, which, -carelessly, she left to their own consequences; while Mr. Crisp, though -awake to her talents, and sensible of their rarity and their splendour, -thought with Dr. Fordyce, that in woman the retiring graces are the -most attractive.[34] - -Nevertheless, in understanding, acuteness, and parts, there was so -much in common between them, that sincere admiration grew out of the -interview; though with too little native congeniality to mellow into -confidence, or ripen into intimacy. - -Praise, too, that dangerous herald of expectation, is often a friend -more perilous than any enemy; and both had involuntarily looked for a -something indefinable which neither of them found; yet both had too -much justness of comprehension to conclude that such a something did -not exist, because no opportunity for its development had offered in -the course of a few hours. - -What most, in this visit, surprised Mrs. Thrale with pleasure, was the -elegance of Mr. Crisp in language and manners; because that, from the -Hermit of Chesington, she had not expected. - -And what most to Mr. Crisp caused a similar pleasure, was the courteous -readiness, and unassuming good-humour, with which Mrs. Thrale received -the inartificial civilities of Kitty Cooke, and the old-fashioned but -cordial hospitality of Mrs. Hamilton; for these, from a celebrated wit, -moving in the sphere of high life, he also in his turn had not expected. - -The Thrales, however, were all much entertained by the place itself, -which they prowled over with gay curiosity. Not a nook or corner; nor -a dark passage “leading to nothing;” nor a hanging tapestry of prim -demoiselles, and grim cavaliers; nor a tall canopied bed tied up to -the ceiling; nor japan cabinets of two or three hundred drawers of -different dimensions; nor an oaken corner cupboard, carved with heads, -thrown in every direction, save such as might let them fall on men’s -shoulders; nor a window stuck in some angle close to the ceiling of a -lofty slip of a room; nor a quarter of a staircase, leading to some -quaint unfrequented apartment; nor a wooden chimney-piece, cut in -diamonds, squares, and round nobs, surmounting another of blue and -white tiles, representing, _vis à vis_, a dog and a cat, as symbols of -married life and harmony—missed their scrutinizing eyes. - -They even visited the attics, where they were much diverted by the -shapes as well as by the quantity of rooms, which, being of all sorts -of forms that could increase their count, were far too heterogeneous of -outline to enable the minutest mathematician to give them any technical -denomination. - -They peeped, also, through little window casements, of which the panes -of glass were hardly so wide as their clumsy frames, to survey long -ridges of lead that entwined the motley spiral roofs of the multitude -of separate cells, rather than chambers, that composed the top of the -mansion; and afforded from it a view, sixteen miles in circumference, -of the adjacent country. - - * * * * * - -Mr. Crisp judged it fitting to return the received civility of a -visit from Mr. and Mrs. Thrale, whatever might be the inconvenience -to his health; or whatever his disinclination to such an exertion. -From habitual politeness he was of the old school in the forms of good -breeding; though perfectly equal to even the present march of intellect -in the new one, if to the present day he had lived,—and had deemed -it a march of improvement. He was the last man not to be aware that -nothing stands still. All nature in its living mass, all art in its -concentrated aggregate, advances or retrogrades. - -He took the earliest day that one of his few gout intervals put at his -own disposal, to make his appearance at Streatham; having first written -a most earnest injunction to Dr. Burney to give him there the meeting. -The Memorialist was then at Chesington, and had the happiness to -accompany Mr. Crisp; by whom she was to be left at her new third home. - -Dr. Johnson, in compliment to his friend Dr. Burney, and by no means -incurious himself to see the hermit of Chesington, immediately -descended to meet Mr. Crisp; and to aid Mrs. Thrale, who gave him a -vivacious reception, to do the honours of Streatham. - -The meeting, nevertheless, to the great chagrin of Dr. Burney, produced -neither interest nor pleasure: for Dr. Johnson, though courteous in -demeanour and looks, with evident solicitude to shew respect to Mr. -Crisp, was grave and silent; and whenever Dr. Johnson did not make the -charm of conversation, he only marred it by his presence; from the -general fear he incited, that if he spoke not, he might listen; and -that if he listened—he might reprove. - -Ease, therefore, was wanting; without which nothing in society can be -flowing or pleasing. The Chesingtonian conceived, that he had lived too -long away from the world to start any subject that might not, to the -Streathamites, be trite and out of date; and the Streathamites believed -that they had lived in it so much longer, that the current talk of the -day might, to the Chesingtonian, seem unintelligible jargon: while each -hoped that the sprightly Dr. Burney would find the golden mean by which -both parties might be brought into play. - -But Dr. Burney, who saw in the kind looks and complacency of Dr. -Johnson intentional goodwill to the meeting, flattered himself that -the great philologist was but waiting for an accidental excitement, -to fasten upon some topic of general use or importance, and then to -describe or discuss it, with the full powers of his great mind. - -Dr. Johnson, however, either in health or in spirits was, -unfortunately, oppressed; and, for once, was more desirous to hear than -to be heard. - -Mr. Crisp, therefore, lost, by so unexpected a taciturnity, this fair -and promising opportunity for developing and enjoying the celebrated -and extraordinary colloquial abilities of Dr. Johnson; and finished -the visit with much disappointment; lowered also, and always, in his -spirits by parting from his tenderly attached young companion. - -Dr. Burney had afterwards, however, the consolation to find that Mr. -Crisp had impressed even Dr. Johnson with a strong admiration of his -knowledge and capacity; for in speaking of him in the evening to Mr. -Thrale, who had been absent, the Doctor emphatically said, “Sir, it is -a very singular thing to see a man with all his powers so much alive, -when he has so long shut himself up from the world. Such readiness of -conception, quickness of recollection, facility of following discourse -started by others, in a man who has long had only the past to feed -upon, are rarely to be met with. Now, for my part,” added he, laughing, -“that _I_ should be ready, or even universal, is no wonder; for my dear -little mistress here,” turning to Mrs. Thrale, “keeps all my faculties -in constant play.” - -Mrs. Thrale then said that nothing, to her, was so striking, as that a -man who so long had retired from the world, should so delicately have -preserved its forms and courtesies, as to appear equally well bred with -any elegant member of society who had not quitted it for a week. - -Inexpressibly gratifying to Dr. Burney was the award of such justice, -from such judges, to his best and dearest loved friend. - -From this time forward, Dr. Burney could scarcely recover his daughter -from Streatham, even for a few days, without a friendly battle. A -sportively comic exaggeration of Dr. Johnson’s upon this flattering -hostility was current at Streatham, made in answer to Dr. Burney’s -saying, upon a resistance to her departure for St. Martin’s-street in -which Dr. Johnson had strongly joined, “I must really take her away, -Sir, I must indeed; she has been from home so long.” - -“Long? no, Sir! I do not think it long,” cried the Doctor, see-sawing, -and seizing both her hands, as if purporting to detain her: “Sir! I -would have her Always come ... and Never go!—” - - * * * * * - - - - -MR. BOSWELL. - - -When next, after this adjuration, Dr. Burney took the Memorialist back -to Streatham, he found there, recently arrived from Scotland, Mr. -Boswell; whose sprightly Corsican tour, and heroic, almost Quixotic -pursuit of General Paoli, joined to the tour to the Hebrides with Dr. -Johnson, made him an object himself of considerable attention. - -He spoke the Scotch accent strongly, though by no means so as to -affect, even slightly, his intelligibility to an English ear. He -had an odd mock solemnity of tone and manner, that he had acquired -imperceptibly from constantly thinking of and imitating Dr. Johnson; -whose own solemnity, nevertheless, far from mock, was the result of -pensive rumination. There was, also, something slouching in the gait -and dress of Mr. Boswell, that wore an air, ridiculously enough, -of purporting to personify the same model. His clothes were always -too large for him; his hair, or wig, was constantly in a state of -negligence; and he never for a moment sat still or upright upon -a chair. Every look and movement displayed either intentional or -involuntary imitation. Yet certainly it was not meant as caricature; -for his heart, almost even to idolatory, was in his reverence of Dr. -Johnson. - -Dr. Burney was often surprised that this kind of farcical similitude -escaped the notice of the Doctor; but attributed his missing it -to a high superiority over any such suspicion, as much as to his -near-sightedness; for fully was Dr. Burney persuaded, that had any -detection of such imitation taken place, Dr. Johnson, who generally -treated Mr. Boswell as a school boy, whom, without the smallest -ceremony, he pardoned or rebuked, alternately, would so indignantly -have been provoked, as to have instantaneously inflicted upon him some -mark of his displeasure. And equally he was persuaded that Mr. Boswell, -however shocked and even inflamed in receiving it, would soon, from his -deep veneration, have thought it justly incurred; and, after a day or -two of pouting and sullenness, would have compromised the matter by one -of his customary simple apologies, of “Pray, Sir, forgive me!” - -Dr. Johnson, though often irritated by the officious importunity of -Mr. Boswell, was really touched by his attachment. It was indeed -surprising, and even affecting, to remark the pleasure with which -this great man accepted personal kindness, even from the simplest of -mankind; and the grave formality with which he acknowledged it even -to the meanest. Possibly it was what he most prized, because what he -could least command; for personal partiality hangs upon lighter and -slighter qualities than those which earn solid approbation; but of -this, if he had least command, he had also least want: his towering -superiority of intellect elevating him above all competitors, and -regularly establishing him, wherever he appeared, as the first Being of -the society. - -As Mr. Boswell was at Streatham only upon a morning visit, a collation -was ordered, to which all were assembled. Mr. Boswell was preparing to -take a seat that he seemed, by prescription, to consider as his own, -next to Dr. Johnson; but Mr. Seward, who was present, waived his hand -for Mr. Boswell to move further on, saying, with a smile, “Mr. Boswell, -that seat is Miss Burney’s.” - -He stared, amazed: the asserted claimant was new and unknown to him, -and he appeared by no means pleased to resign his prior rights. -But, after looking round for a minute or two, with an important -air of demanding the meaning of this innovation, and receiving no -satisfaction, he reluctantly, almost resentfully, got another chair; -and placed it at the back of the shoulder of Dr. Johnson; while this -new and unheard of rival quietly seated herself as if not hearing what -was passing; for she shrunk from the explanation that she feared might -ensue, as she saw a smile stealing over every countenance, that of Dr. -Johnson himself not excepted, at the discomfiture and surprise of Mr. -Boswell. - -Mr. Boswell, however, was so situated as not to remark it in the -Doctor; and of every one else, when in that presence, he was -unobservant, if not contemptuous. In truth, when he met with Dr. -Johnson, he commonly forbore even answering anything that was said, -or attending to any thing that went forward, lest he should miss the -smallest sound from that voice to which he paid such exclusive, though -merited homage. But the moment that voice burst forth, the attention -which it excited in Mr. Boswell amounted almost to pain. His eyes -goggled with eagerness; he leant his ear almost on the shoulder of the -Doctor; and his mouth dropt open to catch every syllable that might -be uttered: nay, he seemed not only to dread losing a word, but to be -anxious not to miss a breathing; as if hoping from it, latently, or -mystically, some information. - -But when, in a few minutes, Dr. Johnson, whose eye did not follow him, -and who had concluded him to be at the other end of the table, said -something gaily and good-humouredly, by the appellation of Bozzy; -and discovered, by the sound of the reply, that Bozzy had planted -himself, as closely as he could, behind and between the elbows of the -new usurper and his own, the Doctor turned angrily round upon him, -and, clapping his hand rather loudly upon his knee, said, in a tone of -displeasure, “What do you do there, Sir?—Go to the table, Sir!” - -Mr. Boswell instantly, and with an air of affright, obeyed: and there -was something so unusual in such humble submission to so imperious a -command, that another smile gleamed its way across every mouth, except -that of the Doctor and of Mr. Boswell; who now, very unwillingly, took -a distant seat. - -But, ever restless when not at the side of Dr. Johnson, he presently -recollected something that he wished to exhibit, and, hastily rising, -was running away in its search; when the Doctor, calling after him, -authoritatively said: “What are you thinking of, Sir? Why do you get up -before the cloth is removed?—Come back to your place, Sir!” - -Again, and with equal obsequiousness, Mr. Boswell did as he was bid; -when the Doctor, pursing his lips, not to betray rising risibility, -muttered half to himself: “Running about in the middle of meals!—One -would take you for a Brangton!—” - -“A Brangton, Sir?” repeated Mr. Boswell, with earnestness; “What is a -Brangton, Sir?” - -“Where have you lived, Sir,” cried the Doctor, laughing, “and what -company have you kept, not to know that?” - -Mr. Boswell now, doubly curious, yet always apprehensive of falling -into some disgrace with Dr. Johnson, said, in a low tone, which he -knew the Doctor could not hear, to Mrs. Thrale: “Pray, Ma’am, what’s a -Brangton?—Do me the favour to tell me?—Is it some animal hereabouts?” - -Mrs. Thrale only heartily laughed, but without answering: as she saw -one of her guests uneasily fearful of an explanation. But Mr. Seward -cried, “I’ll tell you, Boswell,—I’ll tell you!—if you will walk with -me into the paddock: only let us wait till the table is cleared; or I -shall be taken for a Brangton, too!” - -They soon went off together; and Mr. Boswell, no doubt, was fully -informed of the road that had led to the usurpation by which he had -thus been annoyed. But the Brangton fabricator took care to mount to -her chamber ere they returned; and did not come down till Mr. Boswell -was gone. - - - - -ANNA WILLIAMS. - - -Dr. Burney had no greater enjoyment of the little leisure he could tear -from his work and his profession, than that which he could dedicate -to Dr. Johnson; and he now, at the Doctor’s most earnest invitation, -carried this Memorialist to Bolt Court, to pay a visit to the blind -poetess, Anna Williams. - -They were received by Dr. Johnson with a kindness that irradiated -his austere and studious features into the most pleased and pleasing -benignity. Such, indeed, was the gentleness, as well as warmth, of his -partiality for this father and daughter, that their sight seemed to -give him a new physiognomy.[35] - -It was in the apartment—a parlour—dedicated to Mrs. Williams, that the -Doctor was in this ready attendance to play the part of the master of -the ceremonies, in presenting his new guest to his ancient friend and -ally. Anna Williams had been a favourite of his wife, in whose life-time -she had frequently resided under his roof. The merit of her poetical -talents, and the misfortune of her blindness, are generally known; to -these were now super-added sickness, age, and infirmity: yet such was -the spirit of her character, that to make a new acquaintance thus rather -singularly circumstanced, seemed to her almost an event of moment; and -she had incessantly solicited the Doctor to bring it to bear. - -Her look, air, voice, and extended hands of reception, evinced the most -eager, though by no means obtrusive curiosity. Her manner, indeed, -shewed her to be innately a gentlewoman; and her conversation always -disclosed a cultivated as well as thinking mind. - -Dr. Johnson never appeared to more advantage than in the presence of -this blind poetess; for the obligations under which he had placed -her, were such as he sincerely wished her to feel with the pleasure -of light, not the oppression of weighty gratitude. All his best -sentiments, therefore, were strenuously her advocates, to curb what was -irritable in his temper by the generosity of his principles; and by -the congeniality, in such points, of their sensibility. - -His attentions to soften the burthen of her existence, from the -various bodily diseases that aggravated the evil of her loss of sight, -were anxious and unceasing; and there was no way more prominent to -his favour than that of seeking to give any solace, or shewing any -consideration to Anna Williams. - -Anna, in return, honouring his virtues and abilities, grateful for -his goodness, and intimately aware of his peculiarities, made it the -pride of her life to receive every moment he could bestow upon her, -with cordial affection; and exactly at his own time and convenience; -to soothe him when he was disposed to lament with her the loss of his -wife; and to procure for him whatever was in her power of entertainment -or comfort. - -This introduction was afterwards followed, through Dr. Johnson’s -zealous intervention, by sundry other visits from the Memorialist; and -though minor circumstances made her compliance rather embarrassing, it -could not have been right, and it would hardly have been possible, to -resist an entreaty of Dr. Johnson. And every fresh interview at his own -home showed the steady humanity of his assiduity to enliven his poor -blind companion; as well as to confer the most essential services upon -two other distressed inmates of his charitable house, Mrs. Desmoulins, -the indigent daughter of Dr. Swinfen, a physician who had been -godfather to Dr. Johnson; and Mr. Levet, a poor old ruined apothecary, -both of whom he housed and supported with the most exemplary Christian -goodness. - - - - -HISTORY OF MUSIC. - - -Dr. Burney was daily more enchanted at the kindness with which his -daughter was honoured by Dr. Johnson; but neither parental exaltation, -nor the smiles of fortune; nor the enticing fragrance of those flowery -paths which so often allure from vigorous labour to wasting repose, the -votary of rising fame; could even for a day, or scarcely for an hour, -draw the ardent and indefatigable musical historian to any voluntary -relaxation from his self-appointed task; to which he constantly devoted -every moment that he could snatch from the multitudinous calls upon his -over-charged time. - - - - -MR. GARRICK. - - -But the year that followed this still rising tide of pleasure and -prosperity to Dr. Burney, 1779, opened to him with the personal loss -of a friend whom the world might vainly, perhaps, be challenged to -replace, for agreeability, delight, and conviviality, Garrick!—the -inimitable David Garrick! who left behind him all previous eminence in -his profession beyond reach of comparison; save the Roscius of Rome, -to whose Ciceronian celebrity we owe the adoption of an appropriate -nomenclature, which at no period could have been found in our own -dominions:—Garrick, so long the darling and unrivalled favourite of -the public; who possessed resistlessly, where he chose to exert it, the -power of pleasing, winning, and exhilarating all around him:—Garrick, -who, in the words of Dr. Johnson, seemed “Formed to gladden life,” was -taken from his resplendent worldly fame, and admiring worldly friends, -by “that stroke of death,” says Dr. Johnson, “which eclipsed the gaiety -of nations, and impoverished the stock of harmless pleasure.” - -He had already retired from the stage, and retired without waiting for -failing powers to urge, or precipitate his retreat; for still his -unequalled animal spirits, gaily baffling the assaults of age, had such -extraordinary exuberance as to supply and support both body and mind at -once; still clear, varying, and penetrating, was his voice; still full -of intelligence or satire, of disdain, of rage, or of delight, was the -fire, the radiance, the eloquence of his eye; still made up at will, of -energy or grace, of command or supplication, was his form, and were his -attitudes; his face alone—ah! “There was the rub!—” his face alone was -the martyr of time: or rather, his forehead and cheeks; for his eyes -and his countenance were still beaming with recent, though retiring -beauty. - -But the wear and tear of his forehead and cheeks, which, as Dr. Johnson -had said, made sixty years in Garrick seem seventy, had rendered them -so wrinkled, from an unremitting play of expression, off as well as -on the stage, that, when he found neither paint nor candle-light, -nor dress nor decoration, could conceal those lines, or smooth those -furrows which were ploughing his complexion; he preferred to triumph, -even in foregoing his triumphs, by plunging, through voluntary impulse, -from the dazzling summit to which he had mounted, and heroically -pronouncing his Farewell!—amidst the universal cry, echoed and -re-echoing all around him, of “Stop, Garrick, stop!—yet a little -longer stop!” - -A brief account of the last sight of this admired and much loved friend -is thus given in a manuscript memoir of Dr. Burney. - - “I called at his door, with anxious inquiries, two days before - he expired, and was admitted to his chamber; but though I - saw him, he did not seem to see me,—or any earthly thing! - His countenance that had never remained a moment the same in - conversation, now appeared as fixed and as inanimate as a - block of marble; and he had already so far relinquished the - world, as I was afterwards told by Mr. Wallace, his executor, - that nothing that was said or done that used to interest him - the most keenly, had any effect upon his muscles; or could - extort either a word or a look from him for several days - previously to his becoming a corpse.” - -Dr. Burney, in the same carriage with Whitehead, the poet laureate, -the erudite Mr. Beauclerk, and Mr. Wallace, the executor, attended the -last remains of this celebrated public character to their honourable -interment in Westminster Abbey. - -Long, and almost universally felt was this loss: to Dr. Burney it was -a deprivation of lasting regret. In his doggrel chronology he has left -the following warm testimony of his admiration. - - - - - 1779. - - - “This year joy and sorrow alike put on sable - For losses sustained by the stage and the table, - For Garrick, the master of passion, retired, - And Nature and Shakespeare together expired. - Thalia’s as well as Melpomene’s magic, - With him at once vanished both comic and tragic. - Long, long will it be, now by Death he is slain, - Before we shall see his true likeness again. - Such dignified beauties he threw in each part, - Such resources of humour, of passion, and art;— - Hilarity missed him, each Muse dropped a tear, - And Genius and Feeling attended his bier.” - - * * * * * - - - - -YOUNG CROTCH. - - -Just as this great dramatic genius was descending to the tomb, young -Crotch, a rising musical genius, was brought forward into the world -with so strong a promise of eminence, that a very general desire was -expressed, that Dr. Burney would examine, counsel, and countenance him; -and at only three years and a half old, the child was brought to St. -Martin’s-street by his mother. - -The Doctor, ever ready to nourish incipient talents submitted to his -investigation, saw the child repeatedly; and was so forcibly struck -by his uncommon faculties, that upon communicating his remarks to the -famous Dr. Hunter, who had been foremost in desiring the examination, -Dr. Hunter thought them sufficiently curious to be presented to the -Royal Society; where they were extremely well received, and printed in -the Philosophical Transactions of the year 1779. - -For some time after this, the Doctor was frequently called upon, by -the relations and admirers of this wonderful boy, for assistance and -advice; both which he cheerfully accorded to the best of his ability: -till the happy star of the young prodigy fixed him at the University of -Oxford, where he met with every aid, professional or personal, that his -genius claimed; and where, while his education was still in progress, -he was nominated, when only fourteen years of age, organist of Christ -Church. - -This event he communicated to Dr. Burney in a modest and grateful -letter, that the Doctor received and preserved with sincere -satisfaction; and kindly answered with instructive professional counsel. - -In his chronological lines, the Doctor says— - - “Little Crotch, a phenomenon, now first appeared, - And each minstrel surprised, howe’er gray was his beard: - To my learned associates who write F. R. S. - Both the why and the wherefore I humbly address; - And endeavour to shew them, without diminution, - What truly is strange in this bard Lilliputian: - What common, what wanting, to make him surpass - The composers and players of every class. - - * * * * * - - - - -MR. THRALE. - - -The event next narrated in the Memoirs of Dr. Burney, proved deeply -affecting to the happiness and gaiety of his social circles; for now -a catastrophe, which for some time had seemed impending, and which, -though variously fluctuating, had often struck with terror, or damped -with sorrow, the liveliest spirits and gayest scenes of Streatham, -suddenly took place; and cut short for ever the honours and the peace -of that erst illustrious dwelling. - -Mr. Thrale, for many years, in utter ignorance what its symptoms were -foreboding, had been harbouring, through an undermining indulgence -of immoderate sleep after meals, a propensity to paralysis. The -prognostics of distemper were then little observed but by men of -science; and those were rarely called in till something fatal was -apprehended. It is, probably, only since the time that medical and -surgical lectures have been published as well as delivered; and -simplified from technical difficulties, so as to meet and to enlighten -the unscientific intellect of the herd of mankind, that the world at -large seems to have learned the value of early attention to incipient -malady. - -Even Dr. Johnson was so little aware of the insalubrity of Mr. Thrale’s -course of life, that, without interposing his powerful and never -disregarded exhortations, he often laughingly said, “Mr. Thrale will -out-sleep the seven sleepers!” - -Strange it may seem, at this present so far more enlightened day upon -these subjects, that Dr. Johnson, at least, should not have been -alarmed at this lethargic tendency; as the art of medicine, which, for -all that belongs to this world, stands the highest in utility, was, -abstractedly, a study upon which he loved to ruminate, and a subject -he was addicted to discuss. But this instance of complete vacuity of -practical information upon diseases and remedies in Dr. Johnson, will -cease to give surprise, when it is known that, near the middle of his -life, and in the fullest force of his noble faculties, upon finding -himself assailed by a severe fit of the gout in his ancle, he sent -for a pail of cold water, into which he plunged his leg during the -worst of the paroxysm—a feat of intrepid ignorance—incongruous as -sounds the word ignorance in speaking of Dr. Johnson—that probably he -had cause to rue during his whole after-life; for the gout, of which -he chose to get rid in so succinct a manner—a feat in which he often -exulted—might have carried off many of the direful obstructions, and -asthmatic seizures and sufferings, of which his latter years were -wretchedly the martyrs. - -Thus, most unfortunately, without representation, opposition, or -consciousness, Mr. Thrale went on in a self-destroying mode of conduct, -till, - - “Uncall’d—unheeded—unawares—” - -he was struck with a fit of apoplexy. - -Yet even this stroke, by the knowledge and experience of his medical -advisers,[36] might perhaps have been parried, had Mr. Thrale been -imbued with earlier reverence for the arts of recovery. But he slighted -them all; and fearless, or, rather, incredulous of danger, he attended -to no prescription. He simply essayed the waters of Tunbridge; and made -a long sojourn at Bath. All in vain! The last and fatal seizure was -inflicted at his own town house, in Grosvenor Square, in the spring of -1781: and at an instant when such a blow was so little expected, that -all London, amongst persons of fashion, talents, or celebrity, had been -invited to a splendid entertainment, meant for the night of that very -dawn which rose upon the sudden earthly extinction of the lamented and -respected chief of the mansion. - - - - -STREATHAM. - - -Changed now was Streatham! the value of its chief seemed first made -known by his loss; which was long felt; though not, perhaps, with the -immediate acuteness that would have been demonstrated, if, at that -period, the deprivation of the female chieftain had preceded that of -the male. Still Mr. Thrale, by every friend of his house and family; -and by every true adherent to his wife, her interest, her fame, and her -happiness, was day by day, and week by week, more and more missed and -regretted. - -Dr. Burney was one of the first and most earnest to hasten to the -widowed lady, with the truest sympathy in her grief. His daughter, who, -for some previous months, had been wholly restored to the paternal -roof,—the Thrales themselves having been fixed, for the last winter -season, in Grosvenor Square,—flew, in trembling haste, the instant she -could be received, to the beloved friend who was now tenderly enchained -to her heart; and at this moment was doubly endeared by misfortune; and -voluntarily quitting all else, eagerly established herself at Streatham. - -Dr. Johnson, who was one of Mr. Thrale’s executors, immediately resumed -his apartment; cordially and gratefully bestowing on the remaining -hostess every minute that she could desire or require of his time and -his services. And nothing could be wiser in counsel, more zealous in -good offices, or kinder of intention, than the whole of his conduct in -performing the duties that he deemed to devolve upon him by the will of -his late friend. - -But Dr. Burney, as he could only upon his stated day and hour make one -in this retirement, devoted himself now almost exclusively to his - - - - -HISTORY OF MUSIC. - - -So many years had elapsed since the appearance of the first volume, -and the murmurs of the subscribers were so general for the publication -of the second, that the earnestness of the Doctor to fulfil his -engagement, became such as to sicken him of almost every occupation -that turned him from its pursuit. Yet uninterrupted attention grew more -than ever difficult; for as his leisure, through the double claims of -his profession and his work, diminished, his celebrity increased; and -the calls upon it, as usual, from the wayward taste of public fashion -for what is hard to obtain, were perpetual, were even clamorous; and he -had constantly a long list of petitioning parents, awaiting a vacant -hour, upon any terms that he could name, and at any part of the day. - -He had always some early pupil who accepted his attendance at eight -o’clock in the morning; and a strong instance has been given of its -being seized upon even at seven;[37] and, during the height of the -season for fashionable London residence, his tour from house to house -was scarcely ever finished sooner than eleven o’clock at night. - -But so urgent grew now the spirit of his diligence for the progress of -his work, that he not only declined all invitations to the hospitable -boards of his friends, he even resisted the social hour of repast at -his own table; and took his solitary meal in his coach, while passing -from scholar to scholar; for which purpose he had sandwiches prepared -in a flat tin box; and wine and water ready mixed, in a wickered pint -bottle, put constantly into the pockets of his carriage. - -If, at this period, Dr. Burney had been as intent and as skilful in the -arrangement and the augmentation of his income, as he was industrious -to procure, and assiduous to merit, its increase, he might have retired -from business, its toils and its cares, while yet in the meridian of -life; with a comfortable competence for its decline, and adequate -portions for his daughters. With regard to his sons, it was always his -intention to bestow upon them good educations, and to bring them up to -honourable professions; and then to leave them to form, as he had done -himself, a dynasty of their own. But, unfortunately for all parties, -he had as little turn as time for that species of speculation which -leads to financial prosperity; and he lived chiefly upon the principal -of the sums which he amassed; and which he merely, as soon as they were -received, locked up in his bureau for facility of usage; or stored -largely at his bankers as an asylum of safety: while the cash which he -laid out in any sort of interest, was so little, as to make his current -revenue almost incredibly below what might have been expected from the -remuneration of his labours; or what seemed due to his situation in the -world. - -But, with all his honourable toil, his philosophic privations, and his -heroic self-denials, - - THE SECOND VOLUME OF THE HISTORY OF MUSIC, - -from a continually enlarging view of its capability of improvement, did -not see the light till the year 1782. - -Then, however, it was received with the same favour and the same -honours that had graced the entrance into public notice of its -predecessor. The literary world seemed filled with its praise; -the booksellers demanded ample impressions; and her Majesty Queen -Charlotte, with even augmented graciousness, accepted its homage at -court. - - * * * * * - -Relieved, by this publication, from a weight upon his spirits and his -delicacy, which, for more than six years had burthened and disturbed -them, he prudently resolved against working any longer under the -self-reproachful annoyance of a promised punctuality which his position -in life disabled him from observing, by fettering himself with any -further tie of time to his subscribers for the remaining volumes. - -He renounced, therefore, the excess of studious labour with which, -hitherto, - - his toil - O’er books consum’d the midnight oil; - -and restored himself, in a certain degree, to his family, his friends, -and a general and genial enjoyment of his existence. And hailed was the -design, by all who knew him, with an energetic welcome. - -And yet, in breathing thus a little from so unremitting an ardour; -and allowing himself to bask awhile in that healing sunshine of -applause which administers more relief to the brain-shattered, -and mind-exhausted patient, than all the _materia medica_ of the -Apothecaries’ Hall; so small still, and so fugitive, were his intervals -of relaxation, that the diminished exertion which to him was gentle -rest, would, to almost any other, have still seemed overstrained -occupation, and a life of drudgery. - -With no small pleasure, now, he resumed his wonted place at the opera, -at concerts, and in circles of musical excellence; which then were at -their height of superiority, because presided over by the royal and -accomplished legislator of taste, fashion, and elegance, the Prince -of Wales;[38] who frequently deigned to call upon Dr. Burney for his -opinion upon subjects of harmony: and even condescended to summon him -to his royal vicinity, both at the opera and at concerts, that they -might “compare notes,” in his own gracious expression, upon what was -performing. - -Not, however, to his daughter did the Doctor recommend any similar -remission of penmanship. The extraordinary favour with which her little -work had been received in the world; and which may chiefly, perhaps, -be attributed to the unpretending and unexpecting mode in which, not -skilfully, but involuntarily, it had glided into public life; being now -sanctioned by the _eclât_ of encouragement from Dr. Johnson and from -Mr. Burke, gave a zest to his paternal pleasure and hopes, that made -it impossible, nay, that even led him to think it would be unfatherly, -to listen to her affrighted wishes of retreat, from her fearful -apprehensions of some reverse; or suffer her to shrink back to her -original obscurity, from the light into which she had been surprised. - -And, indeed, though he made the kindest allowance for her tremors and -reluctance, he was urged so tumultuously by others, that it was hardly -possible for him to be passive: and Mr. Crisp, whose voice, in whatever -was submitted to his judgment, had the effect of a casting vote, called -out aloud: “More! More! More!—another production!” - -The wishes of two such personages were, of course, resistless; and -a new mental speculation, which already, though secretly, had taken -a rambling possession of her ideas, upon the evils annexed to that -species of family pride which, from generation to generation, seeks, by -mortal wills, to arrest the changeful range of succession enacted by -the immutable laws of death, became the basis of a composition which -she denominated Memoirs of an Heiress.[39] - -No sooner was her consent obtained, than Dr. Burney, who had long with -regret, though with pride, perceived that, at Streatham, she had no -time that was her own, earnestly called her thence. - -He called, however, in vain, from the acuter, though fonder cry of Mrs. -Thrale for her detention; and, kind and flexible, he was yielding up -his demand, when Mr. Crisp, emphatically exclaiming: - - “There is a tide in the affairs of men”— — — - -“and—” comically adding—“and of girls, too!” charged him not to risk -that turn for his daughter, through a false delicacy from which, should -she become its victim, he would have the laugh against,—and nothing -for him. - -The Doctor then frankly revealed to Mrs. Thrale, the tide-fearing alarm -of Mr. Crisp. - -Startled, she heard him. Unwelcome was the sound to her affection, -to her affliction—and, it may be, to her already growing -perplexities!—but justice and kindness united to forbid any -conflict:—though struck was the Doctor, and still more struck was the -Memorialist, by the miserable “Adieu!” which she uttered at parting. - -Mr. Crisp himself hastened in person to Streatham, to convey his -young friend alike from that now monopolizing seclusion, and from -her endlessly increasing expansion of visits and acquaintance in -London;—all which he vehemently denounced as flattering idleness,—to -the quiet and exclusive possession of what he had denominated The -Doctor’s Conjuring Closet, at Chesington. - -And there, with that paternal and excellent friend, and his worthy -associates, Mrs. Hamilton and Miss Cooke, in lively sociality, gay -good-humour, and unbounded confidence, she consigned some months to -what he called her new conjuring. And there she proposed to remain -till her work should be finished: but, ere that time arrived, and ere -she could read any part of it with Mr. Crisp, a tender call from home -brought her to the parental roof, to be present at the marriage of a -darling sister:[40] after which, the Doctor kept her stationary in St. -Martin’s-street, till she had written the word Finis, which ushered her -“Heiress” into the world. - - - - -MR. BURKE. - - -The time is now come for commemorating the connection which, next alone -to that of Dr. Johnson, stands highest in the literary honours of Dr. -Burney, namely, that which he formed with Edmund Burke. - -Their first meetings had been merely accidental and public, and wholly -unaccompanied by any private intimacy or intercourse; though, from -the time that the author of Evelina had been discovered, there had -passed between them, on such occasional junctions, what Dr. Burney -playfully called _an amiable coquetry_ of smiles, and other symbols, -that showed each to be thinking of the same thing: for Mr. Burke, with -that generous energy which, when he escaped the feuds of party, was -the distinction of his character, and made the charm of his oratory, -had blazed around his approbation of that happy little work, from the -moment that it had fallen, incidentally, into his hands: and when -he heard that the author, from her acquaintance with the lovely and -accomplished nieces of Sir Joshua Reynolds, was a visitor at the house -of that English Raphael, he flatteringly desired of the Knight an -appointed interview. - -But from that, though enchanted as much as astonished at such -a proposal from Mr. Burke, she fearfully, and with conscious -insufficiency, hung back; hoping to owe to chance a less ostentatious -meeting. - -Various parties, during two or three years, had been planned, but -proved abortive; when in June, 1782, Sir Joshua Reynolds invited Dr. -Burney and the Memorialist to a dinner upon Richmond Hill, to meet the -Bishop of St. Asaph, Miss Shipley, and some others. - -This was gladly accepted by the Doctor; who now, upon his new system, -was writing more at his ease; and by his daughter, who was still -detained from Streatham, as her second work, though finished, was yet -in the press. - -Sir Joshua, and his eldest niece,[41] accompanied by Lord Cork, called -for them in St. Martin’s-street; and the drive was as lively, from -the discourse within the carriage, as it was pleasant from the views -without. - -Here the editor, as no traits of Mr. Burke in conversation can be -wholly uninteresting to an English reader, will venture to copy an -account of this meeting, which was written while it was yet new, and -consequently warm in her memory, as an offering to her second father, - - SAMUEL CRISP, ESQ. - - _Chesington._ - - * * * * * - -“My dear Mr. Crisp. - -“At the Knight of Plympton’s house, on Richmond Hill, next to the Star -and Garter, we were met by the Bishop of St. Asaph, who stands as high -in general esteem for agreeability as for worth and learning; and by -his accomplished and spirited daughter, Miss Shipley. My father was -already acquainted with both; and to both I was introduced by Miss -Palmer. - -“No other company was mentioned; but some smiling whispers passed -between Sir Joshua, Miss Palmer, and my father, that awakened in me a -notion that the party was not yet complete; and with that notion an -idea that Mr. Burke might be the awaited chief of the assemblage; for as -they knew I had long had as much eagerness to see Mr. Burke as I had -fears of meeting his expectations, I thought they might forbear naming -him to save me a fit of fright. - -“Sir Joshua who, though full of kindness, dearly loves a little -innocent malice, drew me soon afterwards to a window, to look at the -beautiful prospect below; the soft meandering of the Thames, and the -brightly picturesque situation of the elegant white house which Horace -Walpole had made the habitation of Lady Diana Beauclerk and her fair -progeny; in order to gather, as he afterwards laughingly acknowledged, -my sentiments of the view, that he might compare them with those of Mr. -Burke on the same scene! However, I escaped, luckily, falling, through -ignorance, into such a competition, by the entrance of a large, though -unannounced party, in a mass. For as this was only a visit of a day, -there were very few servants; and those few, I suppose, were preparing -the dinner apartment; for this group appeared to have found its own way -up to the drawing-room, with an easiness as well suited to its humour, -by the gay air of its approach, as to that of Sir Joshua; who holds -ceremony almost in horror, and who received them without any form or -apology. - -“He quitted me, however, to go forward, and greet with distinction a -lady who was in the set. They were all familiarly recognized by the -Bishop and Miss Shipley, as well as by Miss Palmer; and some of them by -my father, whose own face wore an expression, of pleasure, that helped -to fix a conjecture in my mind that one amongst them, whom I peculiarly -signalised, tall, and of fine deportment, with an air at once of -Courtesy and Command, might be Edmund Burke. - -“Excited as I felt by this idea, I continued at my picturesque window, -as all the company were strangers to me, till Miss Palmer gave her -hand to the tall, suspected, but unknown personage, saying, in a half -whisper, “Have I kept my promise at last?” and then, but in a lower -tone still, and pointing to the window, she pronounced “Miss Burney.” - -As this seemed intended for private information, previously to an -introduction, be the person whom he might, though accidentally it -was overheard, I instantly bent my head out of the window, as if not -attending to them: yet I caught, unavoidably, the answer, which was -uttered in a voice the most emphatic, though low, “Why did you tell me -it was Miss Burney? Did you think I should not have known it?” - -“An awkward feel, now, from having still no certainty of my surmise, or -of what it might produce, made me seize a spying glass, and set about -re-examining the prospect; till a pat on the arm, soon after, by Miss -Palmer, turned me round to the company, just as the still unknown, to -my great regret, was going out of the room with a footman, who seemed -to call him away upon some sudden summons of business. But my father, -who was at Miss Palmer’s elbow, said, “Fanny—Mr. Gibbon!” - -This, too, was a great name; but of how different a figure and -presentation! Fat and ill-constructed, Mr. Gibbon has cheeks of such -prodigious chubbyness, that they envelope his nose so completely, as to -render it, in profile, absolutely invisible. His look and manner are -placidly mild, but rather effeminate; his voice,—for he was speaking -to Sir Joshua at a little distance—is gentle, but of studied precision -of accent. Yet, with these Brobdignatious cheeks, his neat little feet -are of a miniature description; and with these, as soon as I turned -round, he hastily described a quaint sort of circle, with small quick -steps, and a dapper gait, as if to mark the alacrity of his approach, -and then, stopping short when full face to me, he made so singularly -profound a bow, that—though hardly able to keep my gravity—I felt -myself blush deeply at its undue, but palpably intended obsequiousness. - -This demonstration, however, over, his sense of politeness, or project -of flattery, was satisfied; for he spoke not a word, though his gallant -advance seemed to indicate a design of bestowing upon me a little -rhetorical touch of a compliment. But, as all eyes in the room were -suddenly cast upon us both, it is possible he partook a little himself -of the embarrassment he could not but see that he occasioned; and was -therefore unwilling, or unprepared, to hold forth so publicly upon—he -scarcely, perhaps, knew what!—for, unless my partial Sir Joshua should -just then have poured it into his ears, how little is it likely Mr. -Gibbon should have heard of Evelina! - -But at this moment, to my great relief, the Unknown again appeared; and -with a spirit, an air, a deportment that seemed to spread around him -the glow of pleasure with which he himself was visibly exhilarated. But -speech was there none; for dinner, which I suppose had awaited him, was -at the same instant proclaimed; and all the company, in a mixed, quite -irregular, and even confused manner, descended, _sans ceremonie_, to -the eating parlour. - -The Unknown, however, catching the arm and the trumpet of Sir Joshua, -as they were coming down stairs, murmured something, in a rather -reproachful tone, in the knight’s ear; to which Sir Joshua made no -audible answer. But when he had placed himself at his table, he -called out, smilingly, “Come, Miss Burney!—will you take a seat -next mine?”—adding, as if to reward my very alert compliance, “and -then—Mr. Burke shall sit on your other side.” - -“O no, indeed!” cried the sprightly Miss Shipley, who was also next to -Sir Joshua, “I sha’n’t agree to that! Mr. Burke must sit next me! I -won’t consent to part with him. So pray come, and sit down quiet, Mr. -Burke.” - -Mr. Burke—for Mr. Burke, Edmund Burke, it was!—smiled, and obeyed. - -“I only proposed it to make my peace with Mr. Burke,” said Sir Joshua, -passively, “by giving him that place; for he has been scolding me all -the way down stairs for not having introduced him to Miss Burney; -however, I must do it now—Mr. Burke!—Miss Burney!” - -We both half rose, to reciprocate a little salutation; and Mr. Burke -said: “I have been complaining to Sir Joshua that he left me wholly to -my own sagacity,—which, however, did not here deceive me!” - -Delightedly as my dear father, who had never before seen Mr. Burke in -private society, enjoyed this encounter, I, my dear Mr. Crisp, had a -delight in it that transcended all comparison. No expectation that -I had formed of Mr. Burke, either from his works, his speeches, his -character, or his fame, had anticipated to me such a man as I now -met. He appeared, perhaps, at this moment, to the highest possible -advantage in health, vivacity, and spirits. Removed from the impetuous -aggravations of party contentions, that, at times, by inflaming his -passions, seem, momentarily at least, to disorder his character, he -was lulled into gentleness by the grateful feelings of prosperity; -exhilarated, but not intoxicated, by sudden success; and just risen, -after toiling years of failures, disappointments, fire, and fury, to -place, affluence, and honours; which were brightly smiling on the -zenith of his powers. He looked, indeed, as if he had no wish but to -diffuse philanthropy, pleasure, and genial gaiety all around. - -His figure, when he is not negligent in his carriage, is noble; his -air, commanding; his address, graceful; his voice clear, penetrating, -sonorous, and powerful; his language, copious, eloquent, and -changefully impressive; his manners are attractive; his conversation is -past all praise! - -You will call me mad, I know;—but if I wait till I see another Mr. -Burke for such another fit of ecstacy—I may be long enough in my very -sober good senses! - -Sir Joshua next made Mrs. Burke greet the new comer into this select -circle; which she did with marked distinction. She appears to be -pleasing and sensible, but silent and reserved. - -Sir Joshua then went through the same introductory etiquette with Mr. -Richard Burke, the brother; Mr. William Burke, the cousin; and young -Burke, the son of THE Burke. They all, in different ways, seem lively -and agreeable; but at miles, and myriads of miles, from the towering -chief. - -How proud should I be to give you a sample of the conversation of Mr. -Burke! But the subjects were, in general, so fleeting, his ideas so -full of variety, of gaiety, and of matter; and he darted from one of -them to another with such rapidity, that the manner, the eye, the air -with which all was pronounced, ought to be separately delineated to do -any justice to the effect that every sentence, nay, that every word -produced upon his admiring hearers and beholders. - -Mad again! says my Mr. Crisp; stark, staring mad! - -Well, all the better; for “There is a pleasure in being mad,” as I have -heard you quote from Nat Lee, or some other old play-wright, “that none -but madmen know.” - -I must not, however, fail to particularize one point of his discourse, -because ’tis upon your own favourite hobby, politics: and my father -very much admired its candour and frankness. - -In speaking of the great Lord Chatham while he was yet Mr. Pitt, Mr. -Burke confessed his Lordship to have been the only person whom he, Mr. -Burke, did not name in parliament without caution. But Lord Chatham, -he said, had obtained so preponderating a height of public favour, -that though, occasionally, he could not concur in its enthusiasm, he -would not attempt to oppose its cry. He then, however, positively, nay -solemnly, protested, that this was the only subject upon which he did -not talk with exactly the same openness and sincerity in the house as -at the table. - -He bestowed the most liberal praise upon Lord Chatham’s second son, the -_now_ young William Pitt, with whom he is acting; and who had not only, -he said, the most truly extraordinary talents, but who appeared to be -immediately gifted by nature with the judgment which others acquire by -experience. - -“Though judgment,” he presently added, “is not so rare in youth as is -generally supposed. I have commonly observed, that those who do not -possess it early are apt to miss it late.” - -But the subject on which he most enlarged, and most brightened, was -Cardinal Ximenes, which was brought forward, accidentally, by Miss -Shipley. - -That young lady, with the pleasure of youthful exultation in a literary -honour, proclaimed that she had just received a letter from the famous -Doctor Franklin. - -Mr. Burke then, to Miss Shipley’s great delight, burst forth into -an eulogy of the abilities and character of Dr. Franklin, which he -mingled with a history the most striking, yet simple, of his life; and -a veneration the most profound for his eminence in science, and his -liberal sentiments and skill in politics. - -This led him, imperceptibly, to a dissertation upon the beauty, but -rarity, of great minds sustaining great powers to great old age; -illustrating his remarks by historical proofs, and biographical -anecdotes of antique worthies;—till he came to Cardinal Ximenes, who -lived to his ninetieth year. And here he made a pause. He could go, he -said, no further. Perfection rested there! - -His pause, however, producing only a general silence, that indicated no -wish of speech but from himself, he suddenly burst forth again into an -oration so glowing, so flowing, so noble, so divinely eloquent, upon -the life, conduct, and endowments of this Cardinal, that I felt as if I -had never before known what it was to listen! I saw Mr. Burke, and Mr. -Burke only! Nothing, no one else was visible any more than audible. I -seemed suddenly organized into a new intellectual existence, that was -wholly engrossed by one single use of the senses of seeing and hearing, -to the total exclusion of every object but of the figure of Mr. Burke; -and of every sound but of that of his voice. All else—my dear father -alone excepted—appeared but amalgamations of the chairs on which they -were seated; and seemed placed round the table merely as furniture. - -I cannot pretend to write you such a speech—but such sentences as I -can recollect with exactitude, I cannot let pass. - -The Cardinal, he said, gave counsel and admonition to princes and -sovereigns with the calm courage and dauntless authority with which he -might have given them to his own children: yet, to such noble courage, -he joined a humility still more magnanimous, in never desiring to -disprove, or to disguise his own lowly origin; but confessing, at -times, with openness and simplicity, his surprise at the height of the -mountain to which, from so deep a valley, he had ascended. And, in the -midst of all his greatness, he personally visited the village in which -he was born, where he touchingly recognised what remained of his kith -and kin. - -Next, he descanted upon the erudition of this exemplary prelate; his -scarce collection of bibles; his unequalled mass of rare manuscripts; -his charitable institutions; his learned seminaries; and his stupendous -University at Alcala. “Yet so untinged,” he continued, “was his -scholastic lore with the bigotry of the times; and so untainted with -its despotism, that, even in his most forcible acts for securing the -press from licentiousness, he had the enlargement of mind to permit -the merely ignorant, or merely needy instruments of its abuse, -when detected in promulgating profane works, from being involved -in their destruction; for though, on such occasions, he caused the -culprits’ shops, or warehouses, to be strictly searched, he let -previous notice of his orders be given to the owners, who then privily -executed judgment themselves upon the peccant property; while they -preserved what was sane, as well as their personal liberty: but—if -the misdemeanour were committed a second time, he manfully left the -offenders, unaided and unpitied, to its forfeiture. - -“To a vigour,” Mr. Burke went on, “that seemed never to calculate upon -danger, he joined a prudence that seemed never to run a risk. Though -often the object of aspersion—as who, conspicuous in the political -world, is not?—he always refused to prosecute; he would not even -answer his calumniators. He held that all classes had a right to stand -for something in public life! “We,” he said, “who are at the head, -Act;—in God’s name let those who are at the other end, Talk! If we are -Wrong, ’tis our duty to hearken, and to mend! If we are Right, we may -be content enough with our superiority, to teach unprovoked malice its -impotence, by leaving it to its own fester.” - -“So elevated, indeed,” Mr. Burke continued, “was his disdain of -detraction, that instead of suffering it to blight his tranquillity, he -taught it to become the spur to his virtues!” - -Mr. Burke again paused; paused as if overcome by the warmth of his -own emotion of admiration; and presently he gravely protested, that -the multifarious perfections of Cardinal Ximenes were beyond human -delineation. - -Soon, however, afterwards, as if fearing he had become too serious, -he rose to help himself to some distant fruit—for all this had -passed during the dessert; and then, while standing in the noblest -attitude, and with a sudden smile full of radiant ideas, he vivaciously -exclaimed, “No imagination—not even the imagination of Miss -Burney!—could have invented a character so extraordinary as that of -Cardinal Ximenes; no pen—not even the pen of Miss Burney!—could have -described it adequately!” - -Think of me, my dear Mr. Crisp, at a climax so unexpected! my eyes, at -the moment, being openly rivetted upon him; my head bent forward with -excess of eagerness; my attention exclusively his own!—but now, by -this sudden turn, I myself became the universally absorbing object! for -instantaneously, I felt every eye upon my face; and my cheeks tingled -as if they were the heated focus of stares that almost burnt them alive! - -And yet, you will laugh when I tell you, that though thus struck I -had not time to be disconcerted. The whole was momentary; ’twas like -a flash of lightning in the evening, which makes every object of a -dazzling brightness for a quarter of an instant, and then leaves all -again to twilight obscurity. - -Mr. Burke, by his delicacy, as much as by his kindness, reminding me -of my opening encouragement from Dr. Johnson, looked now everywhere -rather than at me; as if he had made the allusion by mere chance; and -flew from it with a velocity that quickly drew back again to himself -the eyes which he had transitorily employed to see how his superb -compliment was taken: though not before I had caught from my kind Sir -Joshua, a look of congratulatory sportiveness, conveyed by a comic nod. - -My dear Mr. Crisp will be the last to want to be told that I received -this speech as the mere effervescence of chivalrous gallantry in Mr. -Burke:—yet, to be its object, even in pleasantry,—O, my dear Mr. -Crisp, how could I have foreseen such a distinction? My dear father’s -eyes glistened—I wish you could have had a glimpse of him! - -“There has been,” Mr. Burke then, smilingly, resumed, “an age for all -excellence; we have had an age for statesmen; an age for heroes; an age -for poets; an age for artists;—but This,” bowing down, with an air of -obsequious gallantry, his head almost upon the table cloth, “This is -the age for women!” - -“A very happy modern improvement!” cried Sir Joshua, laughing; “don’t -you think so, Miss Burney?—but that’s not a fair question to put to -you; so we won’t make a point of your answering it. However,” continued -the dear natural knight, “what Mr. Burke says is very true, now. The -women begin to make a figure in every thing. Though I remember, when I -first came into the world, it was thought but a poor compliment to say -a person did a thing like a lady!” - -“Ay, Sir Joshua,” cried my father, “but, like Moliere’s physician, -_nous avons changé tout cela!_” - -“Very true, Dr. Burney,” replied the Knight; “but I remember the -time—and so, I dare say, do you—when it was thought a slight, if not -a sneer, to speak any thing of a lady’s performance: it was only in -mockery to talk of painting like a lady; singing like a lady; playing -like a lady—” - -“But now,” interrupted Mr. Burke, warmly, “to talk of writing like a -lady, is the greatest compliment that need be wished for by a man!” - -Would you believe it, my daddy—every body now, himself and my father -excepted, turned about, Sir Joshua leading the way—to make a little -playful bow to ... can you ever guess to whom? - -Mr. Burke, then, archly shrugging his shoulders, added, “What is left -now, exclusively, for US; and what we are to devise in our own defence, -I know not! We seem to have nothing for it but assuming a sovereign -contempt! for the next most dignified thing to possessing merit, is an -heroic barbarism in despising it!” - -I can recollect nothing else—so adieu! - -One word, however, more, by way of my last speech and confession on -this subject. Should you demand, now that I have seen, in their own -social circles, the two first men of letters of our day, how, in one -word, I should discriminate them; I answer, that I think Dr. Johnson -the first Discourser, and Mr. Burke the first Converser, of the -British empire. - - - - -MR. GIBBON. - - -It may seem strange, in giving an account of this meeting, not to have -recited even one speech from so celebrated an author as Mr. Gibbon. But -not one is recollected. His countenance looked always serene; yet he -did not appear to be at his ease. His name and future fame seemed to -be more in his thoughts than the present society, or than any present -enjoyment: and the exalted spirits of Mr. Burke, at this period, might -rather alarm than allure a man whose sole care in existence seemed -that of paying his court to posterity; and induce him, therefore, to -evade coming into collision with so dauntless a compeer; from the sage -apprehension of making a less splendid figure, at this moment, as a -colloquial competitor, than he had reason to expect making, hereafter, -as a Roman historian. - -Sir Joshua Reynolds, however, gave, sportively, and with much -self-amusement, another turn to his silence; for after significantly, -in a whisper, asking the Memorialist, whether she had remarked the -taciturnity of Mr. Gibbon?—he laughingly demanded also, whether she -had discovered its cause? - -“No,” she answered; “nor guessed it.” - -“Why, he’s terribly afraid you’ll snatch at him for a character in your -next book!” - - * * * * * - - -It may easily be imagined that the few words, but highly distinguishing -manner in which Mr. Burke had so courteously marked his kindness -towards _Evelina; or, A Young Lady’s Entrance into the World_, awakened -in the mind of Dr. Burney no small impatience to develop what might be -his opinion of _Cecilia; or, the Memoirs of an Heiress_, just then on -the eve of publication. - -And not long was his parental anxiety kept in suspense. That generous -orator had no sooner given an eager perusal to the work, than he -condescended to write a letter of the most indulgent, nay eloquent -approvance to its highly honoured author; for whom he vivaciously -displayed a flattering partiality, to which he inviolably adhered -through every change, either in his own affairs, or in hers, to the end -of his life. - - * * * * * - -All the manuscript memorandums that remain of the year 1782, in the -hand-writing of Dr. Burney, are teeming with kind exultation at the -progress of this second publication; though the anecdote that most -amused him, and that he wrote triumphantly to the author, was one -that had been recounted to him personally at Buxton, whence the then -Lord Chancellor, Thurlow, went on a visit to Lord Gower,[42] at -Trentham Hall; where, on being conducted to a splendid library, he -took a volume of Cecilia out of his pocket, exclaiming, “What signify -all your fine and flourishing works here? See! I have brought you a -little book that’s worth them all!” and he threw it upon the table, -open, comically, at the passage where Hobson talks of “_my Lord High -Chancellor, and the like of that_.” - - * * * * * - -From the time of the Richmond Hill assemblage, the acquaintance of Dr. -Burney with Mr. Burke ripened into a regard that was soon mellowed -into true and genial friendship, such as well suited the primitive -characters, however it might clash, occasionally, with the current -politics, of both. - -Influenced by such a chief, the whole of the family of Mr. Burke -followed his example; and the son, brother, and cousin, always joined -the Doctor and his daughter upon every accidental opportunity: while -Mrs. Burke called in St. Martin’s-street to fix the acquaintance, by -a pressing invitation to both father and daughter, to pass a week at -Beaconsfield. - -Not to have done this at so favourable a juncture in the spirits, the -powers, and the happiness of Mr. Burke, always rested on both their -minds with considerable regret; and on one of them it rests still! -for an hour with Mr. Burke, in that bright halcyon season of his -glory, concentrated in matter, and embellished in manner, as much wit, -wisdom, and information, as might have demanded weeks, months,—perhaps -more—to elicit from any other person:—and even, perhaps, at any other -period, from himself:—Dr. Johnson always excepted. - -But the engagements of Dr. Burney tied him to the capital; and no -suspicion occurred that the same resplendent sunshine which then -illuminated the fortune, the faculties, and the character of Mr. Burke, -would not equally vivify a future invitation. Not one foreboding -cloud lowered in the air with misty menace of the deadly tempests, -public and domestic, that were hurtling over the head of that exalted -but passion-swayed orator; though such were so soon to darken the -refulgence, now so vivid, of his felicity and his fame; the public, by -warping his judgment—the domestic, by breaking his heart! - - * * * * * - - - - -MRS. THRALE. - - -Dr. Burney, when the Cecilian business was arranged, again conveyed -the Memorialist to Streatham. No further reluctance on his part, nor -exhortations on that of Mr. Crisp, sought to withdraw her from that -spot, where, while it was in its glory, they had so recently, and with -pride, seen her distinguished. And truly eager was her own haste, when -mistress of her time, to try once more to soothe those sorrows and -chagrins in which she had most largely participated, by answering to -the call, which had never ceased tenderly to pursue her, of return. - -With alacrity, therefore, though not with gaiety, they re-entered the -Streatham gates—but they soon perceived that they found not what they -had left! - -Changed, indeed, was Streatham! Gone its chief, and changed his -relict! unaccountably, incomprehensibly, indefinably changed! She was -absent and agitated; not two minutes could she remain in a place; she -scarcely seemed to know whom she saw; her speech was so hurried it was -hardly intelligible; her eyes were assiduously averted from those who -sought them; and her smiles were faint and forced. - -The Doctor, who had no opportunity to communicate his remarks, went -back, as usual, to town; where soon also, with his tendency, as usual, -to view every thing cheerfully, he revolved in his mind the new cares -and avocations by which Mrs. Thrale was perplexed; and persuaded -himself that the alteration which had struck him, was simply the effect -of her new position. - -Too near, however, were the observations of the Memorialist for so easy -a solution. The change in her friend was equally dark and melancholy: -yet not personal to the Memorialist was any alteration. No affection -there was lessened; no kindness cooled; on the contrary, Mrs. Thrale -was more fervent in both; more touchingly tender; and softened in -disposition beyond all expression, all description: but in every -thing else,—in health, spirits, comfort, general looks, and manner, -the change was at once universal and deplorable. All was misery and -mystery: misery the most restless; mystery the most unfathomable. - -The mystery, however, soon ceased; the solicitations of the most -affectionate sympathy could not long be urged in vain;—the mystery -passed away—not so the misery! That, when revealed, was but to both -parties doubled, from the different feelings set in movement by its -disclosure. - -The astonishing history of the enigmatical attachment which impelled -Mrs. Thrale to her second marriage, is now as well known as her name: -but its details belong not to the history of Dr. Burney; though the -fact too deeply interested him, and was too intimately felt in his -social habits, to be passed over in silence in any memoirs of his life. - -But while ignorant yet of its cause, more and more struck he became -at every meeting, by a species of general alienation which pervaded -all around at Streatham. His visits, which, heretofore, had seemed -galas to Mrs. Thrale, were now begun and ended almost without notice: -and all others,—Dr. Johnson not excepted,—were cast into the same -gulph of general neglect, or forgetfulness;—all,—save singly this -Memorialist!—to whom, the fatal secret once acknowledged, Mrs. Thrale -clung for comfort; though she saw, and generously pardoned, how wide -she was from meeting approbation. - -In this retired, though far from tranquil manner, passed many months; -during which, with the acquiescent consent of the Doctor, his daughter, -wholly devoted to her unhappy friend, remained uninterruptedly at -sad and altered Streatham; sedulously avoiding, what at other times -she most wished, a _tête à tête_ with her father. Bound by ties -indissoluble of honour not to betray a trust that, in the ignorance of -her pity, she had herself unwittingly sought, even to him she was as -immutably silent, on this subject, as to all others—save, singly, to -the eldest daughter[43] of the house; whose conduct, through scenes -of dreadful difficulty, notwithstanding her extreme youth, was even -exemplary; and to whom the self-beguiled, yet generous mother, gave -full and free permission to confide every thought and feeling to the -Memorialist. - -And here let a tribute of friendship be offered up to the shrine of -remembrance, due from a thousand ineffaceably tender recollections. -Not wildly, and with male and headstrong passions, as has currently -been asserted, was this connexion brought to bear on the part of Mrs. -Thrale. It was struggled against at times with even agonizing energy; -and with efforts so vehement, as nearly to destroy the poor machine they -were exerted to save. But the subtle poison had glided into her veins -so unsuspectedly, and, at first, so unopposedly, that the whole fabric -was infected with its venom; which seemed to become a part, never to be -dislodged, of its system. - -It was, indeed, the positive opinion of her physician and friend, Sir -Lucas Pepys, that so excited were her feelings, and so shattered, by -their early indulgence, was her frame, that the crisis which might be -produced through the medium of decided resistance, offered no other -alternative but death or madness! - - * * * * * - -Various incidental circumstances began, at length, to open the -reluctant eyes of Dr. Burney to an impelled, though clouded foresight, -of the portentous event which might latently be the cause of the -alteration of all around at Streatham. He then naturally wished for -some explanation with his daughter, though he never forced, or even -claimed her confidence; well knowing, that voluntarily to give it him -had been her earliest delight. - -But in taking her home with him one morning, to pass a day in St. -Martin’s-Street, he almost involuntarily, in driving from the paddock, -turned back his head towards the house, and, in a tone the most -impressive, sighed out: “Adieu, Streatham!—Adieu!” - -His daughter perceived his eyes were glistening; though he presently -dropt them, and bowed down his head, as if not to distress her by any -look of examination; and said no more. - -Her tears, which had long been with difficulty restrained from -overflowing in his presence, through grief at the unhappiness, and -even more at what she thought the infatuation of her friend, now burst -forth, from emotions that surprised away forbearance. - -Dr. Burney sat silent and quiet, to give her time for recollection; -though fully expecting a trusting communication. - -She gave, however, none: his commands alone could have forced a -disclosure; but he soon felt convinced, by her taciturnity, that -she must have been bound to concealment. He pitied, therefore, but -respected her secrecy; and, clearing his brow, finished the little -journey in conversing upon their own affairs. - -This delicacy of kindness, which the Memorialist cannot recollect and -not record, filled her with ever living gratitude. - - * * * * * - - - - -DR. JOHNSON. - - -A few weeks earlier, the Memorialist had passed a nearly similar scene -with Dr. Johnson. Not, however, she believes, from the same formidable -species of surmise; but from the wounds inflicted upon his injured -sensibility, through the palpably altered looks, tone, and deportment, -of the bewildered lady of the mansion; who, cruelly aware what would be -his wrath, and how overwhelming his reproaches against her projected -union, wished to break up their residing under the same roof before it -should be proclaimed. - -This gave to her whole behaviour towards Dr. Johnson, a sort of -restless petulancy, of which she was sometimes hardly conscious; at -others, nearly reckless; but which hurt him far more than she purposed, -though short of the point at which she aimed, of precipitating a change -of dwelling that would elude its being cast, either by himself or the -world, upon a passion that her understanding blushed to own; even -while she was sacrificing to it all of inborn dignity that she had been -bred to hold most sacred. - -Dr. Johnson, while still uninformed of an entanglement it was -impossible he should conjecture, attributed her varying humours to the -effect of wayward health meeting a sort of sudden wayward power: and -imagined that caprices, which he judged to be partly feminine, and -partly wealthy, would soberize themselves away in being unnoticed. -He adhered, therefore, to what he thought his post, in being the -ostensible guardian protector of the relict and progeny of the late -chief of the house; taking no open or visible notice of the alteration -in the successor—save only at times, and when they were _tête à -tête_, to this Memorialist; to whom he frequently murmured portentous -observations on the woeful, nay alarming deterioration in health and -disposition of her whom, so lately, he had signalized as the gay -mistress of Streatham. - -But at length, as she became more and more dissatisfied with her -own situation, and impatient for its relief, she grew less and less -scrupulous with regard to her celebrated guest: she slighted his -counsel; did not heed his remonstrances; avoided his society; was -ready at a moment’s hint to lend him her carriage when he wished to -return to Bolt Court; but awaited a formal request to accord it for -bringing him back. - -The Doctor then began to be stung; his own aspect became altered; and -depression, with indignant uneasiness, sat upon his venerable front. - -It was at this moment that, finding the Memorialist was going one -morning to St. Martin’s-Street, he desired a cast thither in the -carriage, and then to be set down at Bolt Court. - -Aware of his disturbance, and far too well aware how short it was -of what it would become when the cause of all that passed should be -detected, it was in trembling that the Memorialist accompanied him -to the coach, filled with dread of offending him by any reserve, -should he force upon her any inquiry; and yet impressed with the utter -impossibility of betraying a trusted secret. - -His look was stern, though dejected, as he followed her into the -vehicle; but when his eye, which, however short sighted, was quick to -mental perception, saw how ill at ease appeared his companion, all -sternness subsided into an undisguised expression of the strongest -emotion, that seemed to claim her sympathy, though to revolt from -her compassion; while, with a shaking hand, and pointing finger, he -directed her looks to the mansion from which they were driving; and, -when they faced it from the coach window, as they turned into Streatham -Common, tremulously exclaiming: “That house ... is lost to _me_—for -ever!” - -During a moment he then fixed upon her an interrogative eye, -that impetuously demanded: “Do you not perceive the change I am -experiencing?” - -A sorrowing sigh was her only answer. - -Pride and delicacy then united to make him leave her to her taciturnity. - -He was too deeply, however, disturbed to start or to bear any other -subject; and neither of them uttered a single word till the coach stopt -in St. Martin’s-street, and the house and the carriage door were opened -for their separation! He then suddenly and expressively looked at her, -abruptly grasped her hand, and, with an air of affection, though in a -low, husky voice, murmured rather than said: “Good morning, dear lady!” -but turned his head quickly away, to avoid any species of answer. - -She was deeply touched by so gentle an acquiescence in her declining -the confidential discourse upon which he had indubitably meant to -open, relative to this mysterious alienation. But she had the comfort -to be satisfied, that he saw and believed in her sincere participation -in his feelings; while he allowed for the grateful attachment that -bound her to a friend so loved; who, to her at least, still manifested -a fervour of regard that resisted all change; alike from this new -partiality, and from the undisguised, and even strenuous opposition of -the Memorialist to its indulgence. - -The “Adieu, Streatham!” that had been uttered figuratively by Dr. -Burney, without any knowledge of its nearness to reality, was now fast -approaching to becoming a mere matter of fact; for, to the almost equal -grief, however far from equal loss, of Dr. Johnson and Dr. Burney, -Streatham, a short time afterwards, though not publicly relinquished, -was quitted by Mrs. Thrale and her family. - -Both friends rejoiced, however, that the library and the pictures, -at least, on this first breaking up, fell into the hands of so -able an appreciator of literature and of painting, as the Earl of -Shelburne.[44] - -Mrs. Thrale removed first to Brighton, and next repaired to pass a -winter in Argyll Street, previously to fixing her ultimate proceedings. - - - - -GENERAL PAOLI. - - -The last little narration that was written to Mr. Crisp of any party -at Streatham, as it contains a description of the celebrated Corsican -General, Paoli, with whom Dr. Burney had there been invited to dine; -and whom Mr. Crisp, also, had been pressed, though unavailingly, to -meet; will here be copied, in the hope that the reader, like Dr. -Burney, will learn with pleasure General Paoli’s own history of his -opening intercourse with Mr. Boswell. - - - TO SAMUEL CRISP, ESQ., - - _Chesington_. - -How sorry am I, my dear Mr. Crisp, that you could not come to Streatham -at the time Mrs. Thrale hoped to see you; for when are we likely to -meet at Streatham again? And you would have been much pleased, I am -sure, with the famous Corsican General, Paoli, who spent the day -there, and was extremely communicative and agreeable. - -He is a very pleasing man; tall and genteel in his person, remarkably -attentive, obliging, and polite; and as soft and mild in his speech, -as if he came from feeding sheep in Corsica, like a shepherd; rather -than as if he had left the warlike field where he had led his armies to -battle. - -I will give you a little specimen of his language and discourse, as -they are now fresh in my ears. - -When Mrs. Thrale named me, he started back, though smilingly, and said: -‘I am very glad enough to see you in the face, Miss Evelina, which I -have wished for long enough. O charming book! I give it you my word I -have read it often enough. It is my favourite studioso for apprehending -the English language; which is difficult often. I pray you, Miss -Evelina, write some more little volumes of the quickest.’ - -I disclaimed the name, and was walking away; but he followed me with an -apology. ‘I pray your pardon, Mademoiselle. My ideas got in a blunder -often. It is Miss Borni what name I meant to accentuate, I pray your -pardon, Miss Evelina. I make very much error in my English many times -enough.’ - -My father then lead him to speak of Mr. Boswell, by inquiring into the -commencement of their connexion. - -“He came,” answered the General, “to my country sudden, and he fetched -me some letters of recommending him. But I was of the belief he might, -in the verity, be no other person but one imposter. And I supposed, -in my mente, he was in the privacy one espy; for I look away from him -to my other companies, and, in one moment, when I look back to him, I -behold it in his hands his tablet, and one pencil! O, he was at the -work, I give it you my honour, of writing down all what I say to some -persons whatsoever in the room! Indeed I was angry enough. Pretty -much so, I give it you my word. But soon after, I discern he was no -impostor, and besides, no espy; for soon I find it out I was myself -only the monster he came to observe, and to describe with one pencil -in his tablet! O, is a very good man, Mr. Boswell, in the bottom! so -cheerful, so witty, so gentle, so talkable. But, at the first, O, I was -indeed _faché_ of the sufficient. I was in one passion, in my mente, -very well.” - -He had brought with him to Streatham a dog, of which he is exceeding -fond; but he apologised for being so accompanied, from the safety which -he owed to that faithful animal, as a guard from robbers. “I walk -out,” he cried, “when I will one night, and I lose myself. The dark it -comes on of a blackish colour. I don’t know where I put my foot! In a -moment comes behind me one hard step. I go on. The hard step he follow. -Sudden I turn round; a little fierce, it may be. I meeted one man: an -ogly one. He had not sleeped in the night! He was so big whatsoever; -with one clob stick, so thick to my arm. He lifted it up. I had no -pistollettos; I call my dog. I open his mouth, for the survey to his -teeth. My friend, I say, look to the muzzle! Give me your clob stick at -the moment, or he shall destroy you when you are ten! The man kept his -clob stick; but he took up his heels, and he ran away from that time to -this moment!” - -After this, talking of the Irish giant who is now shewn in town, he -said, “He is so large, I am as a baby! I look at him, and I feel so -little as a child! Indeed my indignation it rises when I see him hold -up one arm, spread out to the full, to make me walk under it for my -canopy! I am as nothing! and it turns my bile more than whatsoever to -find myself in the power of one man, who fetches from me half a crown -for looking at his seven feet!” - -All this comic English he pronounces in a manner the most comically -pompous. Nevertheless, my father thinks he will soon speak better, -and that he seems less to want language than patience to assort -it; hurrying on impetuously, and any how, rather than stopping for -recollection. - -He diverted us all very much after dinner, by begging leave of -Mrs. Thrale to give “one toast;” and then, with smiling pomposity, -pronouncing “The great Vagabond!” meaning to designate Dr. Johnson as -“The Rambler.” - -This is the last visit remembered, or, at least, narrated, of -Streatham. - - - - -HISTORY OF MUSIC. - - -Streatham thus gone, though the intercourse with Mrs. Thrale, who now -resided in Argyle-street, London, was as fondly, if not as happily, -sustained as ever, Dr. Burney had again his first amanuensis and -librarian wholly under his roof; and the pleasure of his parental -feelings doubled those of his renown; for the new author was included, -with the most flattering distinction, in almost every invitation that -he received, or acquaintance that he made, where a female presided in -the society. - -Never was practical proof more conspicuous of the power of surmounting -every difficulty that rises against our progress to an appointed end, -when Inclination and Business take each other by the hand in its -pursuit, than was now evinced by the conduct and success of Dr. Burney -in his musical enterprize. - -He vigilantly visited both the Universities, leaving nothing -uninvestigated that assiduity or address could ferret out to his -purpose. The following account of these visits is copied from his own -memorials: - - “I went three several years to the Bodleian and other - libraries in that most admirable seminary of learning and - science, the Oxford University. I had previously spent a week - at Cambridge; and, at both those Universities, I had, in my - researches, discovered curious and rare manuscript tracts on - Music of the middle ages, before the invention of the press, - not mentioned in any of the printed or manuscript catalogues; - and which the most learned librarians did not know were in - existence, from the several different Treatises in Latin, - French, and obsolete English, being bound up in odd volumes, - and only the first of them mentioned in the lettering, or - title of the volume. At Christ Church, to which Dr. Aldrich - had bequeathed his musical library, I met with innumerable - compositions by the best Masters of Italy, as well as of our - own country, that were then extant; such as Carissimi, Luigi, - Cesti, Stradella, Tye, Tallis, Bird, Morley, and Purcel. I - made a catalogue of this admirable collection, including the - tracts and musical compositions of the learned and ingenious - Dean, its founder; a copy of which I had the honour to present - to the college.” - -The British Museum Library he ransacked, pen in hand, repeatedly: -that of Sir Joseph Bankes was as open to him as his own: Mr. Garrick -conducted him, by appointment, to that of the Earl of Shelburne, -afterwards Marquis of Lansdowne; which was personally shewn to him, -with distinguished consideration, by that literary nobleman. To name -every other to which he had access would be prolixity; but to omit that -of his Majesty, George the Third, would be insensibility. Dr. Burney -was permitted to make a full examination of its noble contents; and -to take thence whatever extracts he thought conducive to his design, -by his Majesty’s own gracious orders, delivered through the then -librarian, Mr. Barnard. - -But for bringing these accumulating materials into play, time still, -with all the vigilance of his grasp upon its fragments, was wanting; -and to counteract the relentless calls of his professional business, -he was forced to superadd an unsparing requisition upon his sleep—the -only creditor that he never paid. - - - - -SAM’S CLUB. - - -Immediately after vacating Streatham, Dr. Burney was called upon, by -his great and good friend of Bolt Court, to become a member of a club -which he was then instituting for the emolument of Samuel, a footman of -the late Mr. Thrale. This man, who was no longer wanted for the broken -establishment of Streatham, had saved sufficient money for setting -up a humble species of hotel, to which this club would be a manifest -advantage. It was called, from the name of the honest domestic whom Dr. -Johnson wished to serve, Sam’s Club. It was held in Essex-street, in -the Strand. Its rules, &c. are printed by Mr. Boswell. - -To enumerate all the coteries to which the Doctor, with his new -associate, now resorted, would be uninteresting, for almost all are -passed away! and nearly all are forgotten; though there was scarcely -a name in their several sets that did not, at that time, carry some -weight of public opinion. Such of them, nevertheless, that have left -lasting memorials of their character, their wit, or their abilities, -may not unacceptably be selected for some passing observations. - - - - -BAS BLEU SOCIETIES. - - -To begin with what still is famous in the annals of conversation, the -_Bas Bleu_ Societies. - -The first of these was then in the meridian of its lustre, but had -been instituted many years previously at Bath. It owed its name to an -apology made by Mr. Stillingfleet, in declining to accept an invitation -to a literary meeting at Mrs. Vesey’s, from not being, he said, in the -habit of displaying a proper equipment for an evening assembly. “Pho, -pho,” cried she, with her well known, yet always original simplicity, -while she looked, inquisitively, at him and his accoutrements; “don’t -mind dress! Come in your blue stockings!” With which words, humourously -repeating them as he entered the apartment of the chosen coterie, Mr. -Stillingfleet claimed permission for appearing, according to order. -And those words, ever after, were fixed, in playful stigma, upon Mrs. -Vesey’s associations.[45] - -This original coterie was still headed by Mrs. Vesey, though it was -transferred from Bath to London. Dr. Burney and this Memorialist were -now initiated into the midst of it. And however ridicule, in public, -from those who had no taste for this bluism; or envy, in secret, from -those who had no admission to it, might seek to depreciate its merit, -it afforded to all lovers of intellectual entertainment a variety of -amusement, an exemption from form, and a _carte blanche_ certainty of -good-humour from the amiable and artless hostess, that rendered it as -agreeable as it was singular: for Mrs. Vesey was as mirth-provoking -from her oddities and mistakes, as Falstaff was wit-inspiring from his -vaunting cowardice and sportive epicurism. - -There was something so like the manoeuvres of a character in a comedy -in the manners and movements of Mrs. Vesey, that the company seemed -rather to feel themselves assembled, at their own cost and pleasure, -in some public apartment, to saunter or to repose; to talk or to hold -their tongues; to gaze around, or to drop asleep, as best might suit -their humours; than drawn together to receive and to bestow, the -civilities of given and accepted invitations. - -Her fears were so great of the horror, as it was styled, of a circle, -from the ceremony and awe which it produced, that she pushed all the -small sofas, as well as chairs, pell-mell about the apartments, so as -not to leave even a zig-zag path of communication free from impediment: -and her greatest delight was to place the seats back to back, so -that those who occupied them could perceive no more of their nearest -neighbour than if the parties had been sent into different rooms: an -arrangement that could only be eluded by such a twisting of the neck as -to threaten the interlocutors with a spasmodic affection. - -But there was never any distress beyond risibility: and the company -that was collected was so generally of a superior cast, that talents -and conversation soon found—as when do they miss it?—their own -level: and all these extraneous whims merely served to give zest and -originality to the assemblage. - -Mrs. Vesey was of a character to which it is hardly possible to find a -parallel, so untrue would it be to brand it with positive folly; yet so -glaringly was it marked by almost incredible simplicity. - -With really lively parts, a fertile imagination, and a pleasant -quickness of remark, she had the unguardedness of childhood, joined to -an Hibernian bewilderment of ideas that cast her incessantly into some -burlesque situation; and incited even the most partial, and even the -most sensitive of her own countrymen, to relate stories, speeches, and -anecdotes of her astonishing self-perplexities, her confusion about -times and circumstances, and her inconceivable jumble of recollections -between what had happened, or what might have happened; and what had -befallen others that she imagined had befallen herself; that made her -name, though it could never be pronounced without personal regard, be -constantly coupled with something grotesque. - -But what most contributed to render the scenes of her social circle -nearly dramatic in comic effect, was her deafness; for with all the -pity due to that socialless infirmity; and all the pity doubly due to -one who still sought conversation as the first of human delights, it -was impossible, with a grave face, to behold her manner of constantly -marring the pleasure of which she was in pursuit. - -She had commonly two or three, or more, eartrumpets hanging to her -wrists, or slung about her neck; or tost upon the chimney-piece or -table; with intention to try them, severally and alternately, upon -different speakers, as occasion might arise; and the instant that any -earnestness of countenance, or animation of gesture, struck her eye, -she darted forward, trumpet in hand, to inquire what was going on; -but almost always arrived at the speaker at the moment that he was -become, in his turn, the hearer; and eagerly held her brazen instrument -to his mouth to catch sounds that were already past and gone. And, -after quietly listening some minutes, she would gently utter her -disappointment, by crying: “Well! I really thought you were talking of -something?” - -And then, though a whole group would hold it fitting to flock around -her, and recount what had been said; if a smile caught her roving -eye from any opposite direction, the fear of losing something more -entertaining, would make her beg not to trouble them, and again rush -on to the gayer talkers. But as a laugh is excited more commonly by -sportive nonsense than by wit, she usually gleaned nothing from her -change of place, and hastened therefore back to ask for the rest of -what she had interrupted. But generally finding that set dispersing, or -dispersed, she would look around her with a forlorn surprise, and cry: -“I can’t conceive why it is that nobody talks tonight? I can’t catch a -word!” - -Or, if some one of peculiar note were engaging attention; if Sir -William Hamilton, for example, were describing Herculaneum or Pompeii; -or Mrs. Carter and Mrs. Hannah More were discussing some new author, -or favourite work; or if the then still beautiful, though old, Duchess -of Leinster, was encountering the beautiful and young Duchess of -Devonshire; or, if Mr. Burke, having stept in, and, marking no one -with whom he wished to exchange ideas, had seized upon the first -book or pamphlet he could catch, to soothe his harassed mind by -reading—which he not seldom did, and most incomparably, a passage or -two aloud; circumstances of such a sort would arouse in her so great -an earnestness for participation, that she would hasten from one spot -to another, in constant hope of better fare; frequently clapping, in -her hurry, the broad part of the brazen ear to her temple: but after -waiting, with anxious impatience, for the development she expected, -but waiting in vain, she would drop her trumpet, and almost dolorously -exclaim: “I hope nobody has had any bad news to night? but as soon as I -come near any body, nobody speaks!” - -Yet, with all these peculiarities, Mrs. Vesey was eminently amiable, -candid, gentle, and even sensible; but she had an ardour to know -whatever was going forward, and to see whoever was named, that kept her -curiosity constantly in a panic; and almost dangerously increased the -singular wanderings of her imagination. - -Here, amongst the few remaining men of letters of the preceding -literary era, Dr. Burney met Horace Walpole, Owen Cambridge, and Soame -Jenyns, who were commonly, then, denominated the old wits; but who -rarely, indeed, were surrounded by any new ones who stood much chance -of vying with them in readiness of repartee, pith of matter, terseness -of expression, or pleasantry in expanding gay ideas. - - - - -MRS. MONTAGU. - - -“Yet, while to Mrs. Vesey, the _Bas Bleu_ society owed its origin and -its epithet, the meetings that took place at Mrs. Montagu’s were soon -more popularly known by that denomination; for though they could not be -more fashionable, they were far more splendid. - -Mrs. Montagu had built a superb new house, which was magnificently -fitted up, and appeared to be rather appropriate for princes, nobles, -and courtiers, than for poets, philosophers, and blue stocking -votaries. And here, in fact, rank and talents were so frequently -brought together, that what the satirist uttered scoffingly, the author -pronounced proudly, in setting aside the original claimant, to dub Mrs. -Montagu Queen of the Blues. - -This majestic title was hers, in fact, from more flattering rights -than hang upon mere pre-eminence of riches or station. Her Essay on -the Learning and Genius of Shakespeare; and the literary zeal which -made her the voluntary champion of our immortal bard, had so national -a claim to support and to praise, that her book, on its first coming -out, had gained the almost general plaudits that mounted her, -thenceforward, to the Parnassian heights of female British literature. - -But, while the same _bas bleu_ appellation was given to these two -houses of rendezvous, neither that, nor even the same associates, -could render them similar. Their grandeur, or their simplicity, their -magnitude, or their diminutiveness, were by no means the principal -cause of this difference: it was far more attributable to the Lady -Presidents than to their abodes: for though they instilled not their -characters into their visitors, their characters bore so large a -share in their visitors’ reception and accommodation, as to influence -materially the turn of the discourse, and the humour of the parties, at -their houses. - -At Mrs. Montagu’s, the semi-circle that faced the fire retained during -the whole evening its unbroken form, with a precision that made it seem -described by a Brobdignagian compass. The lady of the castle commonly -placed herself at the upper end of the room, near the commencement of -the curve, so as to be courteously visible to all her guests; having -the person of the highest rank, or consequence, properly, on one side, -and the person the most eminent for talents, sagaciously, on the other; -or as near to her chair, and her converse, as her favouring eye, and a -complacent bow of the head, could invite him to that distinction.[46] - -Her conversational powers were of a truly superior order; strong, just, -clear, and often eloquent. Her process in argument, notwithstanding an -earnest solicitude for pre-eminence, was uniformly polite and candid. -But her reputation for wit seemed always in her thoughts, marring their -natural flow, and untutored expression. No sudden start of talent urged -forth any precarious opinion; no vivacious new idea varied her logical -course of ratiocination. Her smile, though most generally benignant, -was rarely gay; and her liveliest sallies had a something of anxiety -rather than of hilarity—till their success was ascertained by applause. - -Her form was stately, and her manners were dignified. Her face retained -strong remains of beauty throughout life; and though its native cast -was evidently that of severity, its expression was softened off in -discourse by an almost constant desire to please. - -If beneficence be judged by the happiness which it diffuses, whose -claim, by that proof, shall stand higher than that of Mrs. Montagu, -from the munificence with which she celebrated her annual festival -for those hapless artificers, who perform the most abject offices of -any authorized calling, in being the active guardians of our blazing -hearths?[47] - -Not to vain glory, then, but to kindness of heart, should be adjudged -the publicity of that superb charity, which made its jetty objects, for -one bright morning, cease to consider themselves as degraded outcasts -from society. - -Not all the lyrics of all the rhymsters, nor all the warblings of all -the spring-feathered choristers, could hail the opening smiles of May, -like the fragrance of that roasted beef, and the pulpy softness of -those puddings of plums, with which Mrs. Montagu yearly renovated those -sooty little agents to the safety of our most blessing luxury. - -Taken for all in all, Mrs. Montagu was rare in her attainments; splendid -in her conduct; open to the calls of charity; forward to precede those -of indigent genius; and unchangeably just and firm in the application of -her interest, her principles, and her fortune, to the encouragement of -loyalty, and the support of virtue. - -In this house, amongst innumerable high personages and renowned -conversers, Dr. Burney met the famous Hervey, Bishop of Derry, late -Earl of Bristol; who then stood foremost in sustaining the character -for wit and originality that had signalised his race, in the preceding -century, by the current phrase of the day, that the world was peopled -with men, women, and Herveys. - -Here, also, the Honourable Horace Walpole, afterwards Lord Orford, -sometimes put forth his quaint, singular, often original, generally -sarcastic, and always entertaining powers. - -And here the Doctor met the antique General Oglethorpe, who was pointed -out to him by Mr. Walpole for a man nearly in his hundredth year; an -assertion that, though exaggerated, easily gained credit, from his -gaunt figure and appearance. The General was pleasing, well bred, and -gentle. - -Horace Walpole, sportively desirous, as he whispered to Dr. Burney, -that the Doctor’s daughter should see the humours of a man so near to -counting his age by a century, insisted, one night at this house, upon -forming a little group for that purpose; to which he invited, also, Mr. -and Mrs. Locke: exhibiting thus the two principal points of his own -character, from which he rarely deviated: a thirst of amusement from -what was singular; with a taste yet more forcible for elegance from -what was excellent. - -At the side of General Oglethorpe, Mr. Walpole, though much past -seventy, had almost the look, and had quite the air of enjoyment -of a man who was yet almost young: and so skeleton-like was the -General’s meagre form, that, by the same species of comparison, Mr. -Walpole almost appeared, and, again, almost seemed to think himself, -if not absolutely fat, at least not despoiled of his _embonpoint_; -though so lank was his thinness, that every other person who stood -in his vicinity, might pass as if accoutred and stuffed for a stage -representation of Falstaff.[48] - - - - -MRS. THRALE. - - -But—previously to the late Streatham catastrophe—blither, more bland, -and more gleeful still, was the personal celebrity of Mrs. Thrale, -than that of either Mrs. Montagu or Mrs. Vesey. Mrs. Vesey, indeed, -gentle and diffident, dreamed not of any competition: but Mrs. Montagu -and Mrs. Thrale had long been set up as fair rival candidates for -colloquial eminence; and each of them thought the other alone worthy -to be her peer. Openly, therefore, when they met, they combatted -for precedence of admiration; with placid, though high-strained -intellectual exertion on one side, and an exuberant pleasantry of -classical allusion or quotation on the other, without the smallest -malice in either; for so different were their tastes as well as -attributes, that neither of them envied, while each did justice to the -powers of her opponent. - -The blue parties at Mrs. Thrale’s, though neither marked with as much -splendour as those of Mrs. Montagu, nor with so curious a selection -of distinguished individuals as those of Mrs. Vesey, were yet held -of equal height with either in general estimation, as Dr. Johnson, -“himself a host,” was usually at Mrs. Thrale’s; or was always, by her -company, expected: and as she herself possessed powers of entertainment -more vivifying in gaiety than any of her competitors. - - * * * * * - -Various other meetings were formed in imitation of the same plan of -dispensing with cards, music, dice, dancing, or the regales of the -festive board, to concentrate in intellectual entertainment all the -hopes of the guest, and the efforts of the host and hostess. And, with -respect to colloquial elegance, such a plan certainly is of the first -order for bringing into play the highest energies of our nature; and -stimulating their fairest exercise in discussions upon the several -subjects that rise with every rising day; and that take and give a -fresh colour to Thought as well as to Expression, from the mind of -every fresh discriminator. - -And such meetings, when the parties were well assorted, and in -good-humour, formed, at that time, a coalition of talents, and a -brilliancy of exertion, that produced the most informing dissertations, -or the happiest sallies of wit and pleasantry, that could emanate from -social intercourse. - - - - -HON. MISS MONCTON.[49] - - -One of the most striking parties of this description, after the three -chiefs, was at the residence of the Hon. Miss Moncton; where there -was a still more resplendent circle of rank, and a more distinguished -assemblage of foreigners, than at any other; with always, in addition, -somebody or something uncommon and unexpected, to cause, or to gratify -curiosity. - -Not merely as fearful of form as Mrs. Vesey was Miss Moncton; she went -farther; she frequently left her general guests wholly to themselves. -There was always, she knew, good fare for intellectual entertainment; -and those who had courage to seek might partake of its advantages; -while those who had not that quality, might amuse themselves as lookers -on. And though some might be disconcerted, no one who had candour -could be offended, when they saw, from the sprightly good-humour of -their hostess, that this reception was instigated by gay, not studied -singularity. - -Miss Moncton usually sat about the middle of the room, lounging on one -chair, while bending over the back of another, in a thin fine muslin -dress, even at Christmas; while all around her were in satins, or -tissues; and without advancing to meet any one, or rising, or placing, -or troubling herself to see whether there were any seats left for them, -she would turn round her head to the announcement of a name, give a nod, -a smile, and a short “How do you do?—” and then, chatting on with her -own set, leave them to seek their fortune. - -To these splendid, and truly uncommon assemblages, Dr. Burney and his -daughter accepted, occasionally, some of the frequent invitations with -which they were honoured. - -And here they had sometimes the happiness to meet, amidst the nobles -and dames of the land, with all the towering height of his almost -universal superiority, Mr. Burke; who, sure, from the connexions of -the lady president, to find many chosen friends with whom he could -coalesce or combat upon literary or general topics, commonly entered -the grand saloon with a spirited yet gentle air, that shewed him full -fraught with the generous purpose to receive as well as to dispense -social pleasure; untinged with one bitter drop of political rancour; -and clarified from all acidity of party sarcasm. - -And here, too, though only latterly, and very rarely, appeared the sole -star that rose still higher in the gaze of the world, Dr. Johnson. Miss -Moncton had met with the Doctor at Brighton, where that animated lady -eagerly sought him as a gem to crown her coteries; persevering in her -attacks for conquest, with an enthusiasm that did honour to her taste; -till the Doctor, surprised and pleased, rewarded her exertions by a -good-humoured compliance with her invitations. - - * * * * * - - - -SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. - -But of these coteries, none surpassed, if they equalled, in easy -pleasantry, unaffected intelligence, and information free from pedantry -or formality, those of the Knight of Plympton. Sir Joshua Reynolds -was singularly simple, though never inelegant in his language; and -his classical style of painting could not be more pleasing, however -more sublimely it might elevate and surprise, than his manners and -conversation. - -There was little or no play of countenance, beyond cheerfulness or -sadness, in the features of Sir Joshua; but in his eyes there was -a searching look, that seemed, upon his introduction to any person -of whom he had thought before he had seen, to fix, in his painter’s -mind, the attitude, if it may be so called, of face that would -be most striking for a picture. But this was rarely obvious, and -never disconcerting; he was eminently unassuming, unpretending, and -natural.[50] - -Dr. Burney has left amongst his papers a note of an harangue which he -had heard from Sir Joshua Reynolds, at the house of Dudley Long, when -the Duke of Devonshire, and various other peers, were present, and when -happiness was the topic of discussion. Sir Joshua for some time had -listened in silence to their several opinions; and then impressively -said: “You none of you, my lords, if you will forgive my telling you -so, can speak upon this subject with as much knowledge of it as I can. -Dr. Burney perhaps might; but it is not the man who looks around him -from the top of a high mountain at a beautiful prospect on the first -moment of opening his eyes, who has the true enjoyment of that noble -sight: it is he who ascends the mountain from a miry meadow, or a -ploughed field, or a barren waste; and who works his way up to it -step by step; scratched and harassed by thorns and briars; with here -a hollow, that catches his foot; and there a clump that forces him -all the way back to find out a new path;—it is he who attains to it -through all that toil and danger; and with the strong contrast on his -mind of the miry meadow, or ploughed field, or barren waste, for which -it was exchanged,—it is he, my lords, who enjoys the beauties that -suddenly blaze upon him. They cause an expansion of ideas in harmony -with the expansion of the view. He glories in its glory; and his mind -opens to conscious exaltation; such as the man who was born and bred -upon that commanding height, with all the loveliness of prospect, and -fragrance, and variety, and plenty, and luxury of every sort, around, -above, beneath, can never know; can have no idea of;—at least, not -till he come near some precipice, in a boisterous wind, that hurls him -from the top to the bottom, and gives him some taste of what he had -possessed, by its loss; and some pleasure in its recovery, by the pain -and difficulty of scrambling back to it.” - - - - -MRS. REYNOLDS. - - -Mrs. Reynolds also had her coteries, which were occasionally attended -by most of the persons who have been named; equally from consideration -to her brother, and personal respect to herself. - -Mrs. Reynolds wrote an essay on Taste, which she submitted, in the year -1781, to the private criticism of her sincere friend, Dr. Johnson. - -But it should seem that the work, though full of intrinsic merit, was -warpt in its execution by that perplexity of ideas in which perpetual -ponderings, and endless recurrence to first notions, so subversive -of all progression, cloudily involved the thoughts, as well as the -expressions, of this ingenious lady; for the award of Dr. Johnson, -notwithstanding it contained high praise and encouragement for the -revision of the treatise, frankly avows, “that her notions, though -manifesting a depth of penetration, and a nicety of remark, such -as Locke or Pascal might be proud of, must everywhere be rendered -smoother and plainer; and he doubts whether many of them are very clear -even to her own mind.” - -Probably the task which he thus pointed out to her of development and -explanation, was beyond the boundary of her powers; for though she -lived twenty years after the receipt of this counsel, the work never -was published. - - - - -MRS. CHAPONE. - - -Mrs. Chapone, too, had her own coteries, which, though not sought -by the young, and, perhaps, fled from by the gay, were rational, -instructive, and social; and it was not with self-approbation that they -could ever be deserted. But the search of greater gaiety, and higher -fashion, rarely awaits that award. - -The meetings, in truth, at her dwelling, from her palpable and organic -deficiency in health and strength for their sustenance, though they -never lacked of sense or taste, always wanted spirit; a want which -cast over them a damp that made the same interlocutors, who elsewhere -grouped audiences around them from their fame as discoursers, appear -to be assembled here merely for the grave purpose of performing a duty. - -Yet here were to be seen Mrs. Montagu, Mrs. Carter, Hannah More, the -clever family of the Burroughs, the classically lively Sir William -Pepys, and the ingenious and virtuous Mrs. Barbauld. - -But though the dignity of her mind demanded, as it deserved, the -respect of some return to the visits which her love of society induced -her to pay, it was a _tête à tête_ alone that gave pleasure to the -intercourse with Mrs. Chapone: her sound understanding, her sagacious -observations, her turn to humour, and the candour of her affectionate -nature, all then came into play without effort: and her ease of mind, -when freed from the trammels of doing the honours of reception, seemed -to soften off, even to herself, her corporeal infirmities. It was thus -that she struck Dr. Burney with the sense of her worth; and seemed -portraying in herself the original example whence the precepts had -been drawn, for forming the unsophisticated female character that are -displayed in the author’s Letters on the improvement of the mind. - - - - -SIR WILLIAM WELLER PEPYS. - - -But the meetings of this sort, to which sarcasm, sport, or envy have -given the epithet of blueism, that Dr. Burney most frequently and the -latest attended, were those at the house of Mr., since Sir William -Weller Pepys. - -The passion of Sir William for literature, his admiration of talents, -and his rapturous zeal for genius, made him receive whoever could -gratify any of those propensities, with an enchantment of pleasure -that seemed to carry him into higher regions. The parties at his house -formed into little, separate, and chosen groups, less awful than at -Mrs. Montagu’s, and less awkward than at Mrs. Vesey’s: and he glided -adroitly from one of these groups to another, till, after making -the round of politeness necessary for the master of the house, his -hospitality felt acquitted of its devoirs; and he indulged, without -further restraint, in the ardent delight of fixing his standard for the -evening in the circle the most to his taste: leaving to his serenely -acquiescent wife the more forbearing task of equalizing attention. -To do that, indeed, beyond what was exacted by good breeding for the -high, and by kindness for the insignificant part of his guests, would -have been a discipline to all his feelings, that would have converted -those parties, that were his pride and his joy, into exercises of the -severest penitence. - -But while an animated reciprocation of ideas in conversation, a lively -memory of early anecdotes, and a boundless readiness at recital of -the whole mass of English poets, formed the gayest enjoyment of his -chosen and happiest hours, the voice of justice must raise him still -higher for solid worth. His urbanity was universal. He never looked so -charmed as when engaged in some good office: and his charities were as -expansive as the bounty of those who possessed more than double his -income. So sincere, indeed, was his benevolence, that it seemed as much -a part of himself as his limbs, and could have been torn from him with -little less difficulty.[51] - - - - -SOAME JENYNS. - - -Amongst the _Bouquets_, as Dr. Burney denominated the fragrant -flatteries courteously lavished, in its day, on the Memoirs of an -Heiress, few were more odorous to him than those offered by the famous -old Wits, Soame Jenyns and Owen Cambridge. - -Soame Jenyns, at the age of seventy-eight, condescended to make -interest with Mrs. Ord to arrange an acquaintance for him, at her house -in Queen Ann-street, with the father and the daughter. - -Soame Jenyns is so well known as an author, and was in his time so -eminent as a wit; and his praise gave such pleasure to Dr. Burney, that -another genuine letter, written for Mr. Crisp at the moment, with an -account of the meeting, will be here abridged, as characteristically -marking the parental gratification of the Doctor. - - - TO SAMUEL CRISP, ESQ. - - _Chesington._ - -My dear Mr. Crisp will be impatient, I know, for a history of the -long-planned re-encounter with the famed Soame Jenyns. - -My father was quite enchanted at his request; and no wonder! for who -could have expected such civil curiosity from so renowned an old wit? - -We were late; my father could not be early: but I was not a little -disconcerted to find, instead of Mr. Soame Jenyns _all alone by -himself_, a room full of company; not in groups, nor yet in a circle, -but seated square; _i.e._ close to the wainscot, leaving a vacancy -in the middle of the apartment sufficient for dancing three or four -cotillons. - -Mrs. Ord almost ran to the door to receive us, crying out, -“Why have you been so late, Dr. Burney? We have been waiting for you -this hour. I was afraid there was some mistake. Mr. Soame Jenyns has -been dying with impatience for the arrival of Miss Burney. Some of us -thought she was naughty, and would not come; others thought it was only -coquetry. But, however, my dear Miss Burney, let us repair the lost -time as quickly as we can, and introduce you to one another without -further delay.” - -You may believe how happy I was at this “some thought,” and “others -thought,” which instantly betrayed that every body was apprised they -were to witness this grand encounter: And, to mark it still more -strongly, every one, contrary to all present custom, stood up,—as if -to see the sight! - -I really felt so abashed at meeting so famous an author with such -publicity; and so much ashamed of the almost ridiculously undue -ceremony of the rising, that I knew not what to do, nor how to -_comport_ myself. But they all still kept staringly upright, till Mr. -Jenyns, who was full dressed in a court suit, of apricot-coloured silk, -lined with white satin, made all the slow speed in his power, from the -less thus urged?—began an harangue the most elegantly complimentary, -upon the pleasure, and the honour, and the what not? of seeing, my dear -daddy, your very obedient and obsequious humble servant, and spinster, - - F. B. - -I made all possible reverences, and endeavoured to get to a seat; but -Mrs. Ord, when I turned from him, took my hand, and led me, in solemn -form, to what seemed to be the group of honour, to present me to Mrs. -Soame Jenyns, who, with all the rest, was still immovably standing! The -reverences were repeated here, and returned; but in silence, however, -on both sides; so they did very well—that is, they were only dull. - -I then hoped to escape to my dear Mrs. Thrale, who most invitingly held -out her hand to me, and said, pointing to a chair by her own, “Must I, -too, make interest to be introduced to Miss Burney?” - -This, however, was not allowed; for my dear Lady Clement Cotterel, Mrs. -Ord, again taking my hand, and parading me to a sofa, said, “Come, Miss -Burney, and let me place you by Mrs. Buller.” - -I was glad by this time to be placed any where; for not till I was thus -accommodated, did the company, _en masse_, re-seat themselves! - -Mr. Cambridge, senior, then advanced to speak to me; but before I could -answer, or, rather, hear him, Mrs. Ord again summoned poor Mr. Jenyns, -and made him my right hand neighbour on the sofa, saying, “There, Mr. -Jenyns! and there, Miss Burney! now I have put you fairly together, I -have done with you!” - -This dear, good Mrs. Ord! what a mistaken road was this for bring -us into acquaintance! I verily think Mr. Jenyns was almost out of -countenance himself; for he had probably said all his say; and would -have been as glad of a new subject, and a new companion, as I could -have been myself. - -To my left hand neighbour I had never before been presented. Mrs. -Buller is tall and elegant in her person, genteel and ugly in her face, -and abrupt and singular in her manners. She is, however, very clever, -sprightly, and witty, and much in vogue. She is, also, a Greek scholar, -a celebrated traveller in search of foreign customs and persons, and -every way original, in her knowledge and her enterprising way of life. -And she has had the maternal heroism—which with me is her first -quality—of being the guide of her young son in making the grand tour. - -Mr. Soame Jenyns, thus again called upon, resolved, after a pause, -not to be called upon in vain; and therefore, with the chivalrous -courtesy that he seemed to think the call demanded, began an eulogy -unrivalled, I think, in exuberance and variety of animated phraseology. -All creation in praise seemed to open to his fancy! No human being had -ever begun Cecilia, or Evelina, who had power to lay them down unread: -pathos, humour, interest, moral, contrast of character, of manners, of -language—O! such _mille jolis choses_! - -I heard, however, but the leading words—which—for I see your arch -smile!—you will say I have not failed to retain!—though every body -else, the whole room being attentively dumb, probably heard how they -were strung together. And indeed, my dear father, who was quite -delighted, says the panegyric was as witty as it was flattering. But -for myself, had I been carried to a theatre, and perched upon a stool, -to hear a public oration upon my simple penmanship, I could hardly have -been more confounded. I bowed my head, after the first three or -four sentences, by way of marking that I thought he had done: but done -he had not the more! I then turned away to the other side, hoping to -relieve him as well as myself; for I am sure he must have been full as -much worried; but I only came upon Mrs. Buller, who took up the _éloge_ -just where Mr. Jenyns, for want of breath, let it drop; splendidly -saying, how astonishing it was, that in a nation the most divided of -any in the known world, alike in literature and in politics, any living -pen could be found to bring about a universal harmony of opinion. - -You will only, as usual, laugh, I know, my dear Mr. Crisp, and rather -exult than be sorry for my poor embarrassed _phiz_ during this playful -duet. So also do I, too, now it is over; and feel grateful to the -inflictors: but, for all that, I was tempted to wish either them or -myself in the Elysian fields—for I won’t say at Jericho—during the -infliction. And indeed, as to this present evening, the extraordinary -things that were sported by Mr. Jenyns, and seconded by Mrs. Buller, -would have brought blushes into the practised cheeks of Agujari or of -Garrick. I changed so often from hot to cold, between the shame of -insufficiency, and the consciousness that while they engaged -every ear themselves, they put me forward to engage every eye, that -I felt now in a fever, and now in an ague, from the awkwardness of -appearing thus expressly summoned to - - “Sit attentive to my own applause—!” - -and my dear father himself, with all his gratified approbation, said I -really, at times, looked quite ill. Mrs. Thrale told me, afterwards, -she should have come to _naturalize_ me with a little common chat, -but that I had been so publicly destined for Soame Jenyns before my -arrival, that she did not dare interfere! - -At length, however, finding they seemed but to address a breathing -statue, they entered into a discussion that was a most joyful relief to -me, upon foreign and English customs; and especially upon the rarity, -in England, of good conversation; from the perpetual intervention of -politics, always noisy; or of dissipation, always frivolous. - -Here they were joined by Mr. Cambridge, who, as _all the world_[52] -knows, is an intimate friend of Soame Jenyns; and who is always -truly original and entertaining: but imagine my surprise—surprise -and delight! in a room and a company like this, where all, except Mr. -Cambridge and Mr. Jenyns, were of the beau monde of the present day, -suddenly to hear pronounced the name of my dear Mr. Crisp! for, in the -midst of this discourse upon customs and conversations in different -countries, Mr. Cambridge, who asserted that every man, possessing -steadiness with spirit, might live in this great nation exactly as he -pleased; either with friends or with strangers, either in public or in -solitude, smilingly illustrated his remark, in calling upon my father -to second him, by reciting the example of Mr. Crisp! I almost jumped -with pleasure and astonishment at the sound of that name, and the -praise with which, from the mover and the seconder, it was instantly -accompanied. How eloquent grew my father!—but here, I know, I must -stop. - -When the party broke up, Mr. Jenyns thought it necessary—or, at least, -thought it would so be deemed by Mrs. Ord, to recapitulate, though -with concentration, his panegyric of the highly honoured Cecilia. And -Mrs. Buller renewed, also, her civilities, and hoped “I would not -look strange upon them!”—for I looked, my dear father told me -afterwards, all the colours of the rainbow; adding, “Why Fanny, - - “‘I’d not look at all, if I couldn’t look better!’”[53] - -But how I blush when I think of Mrs. Boscawen, Mrs. and Miss -Thrale, Mrs. Carter, Mrs. Garrick, Miss More, Mrs. Chapone, Miss -Gregory[54]—nay, Mrs. Montagu herself—being called upon to a scene -such as this, not as personages of the drama; but as auditresses and -spectatresses! I can only hope they all laugh,—for, if not, I am sure -they must all scoff. - -Dear, good—mistaken Mrs. Ord!—But my father says such panegyric, and -such panegyrists, may well make amends for a little want of _tact_. - -But I have not told you what was said by Mr. Cambridge, and I dare not! -lest you should think that fervent friend a little non-compos! for ’twas -higher and more piquant in eulogy than all the rest put together. ’Twas -to my father, however, that he uttered his lively sentiments; for he -studies little me as much as my little books; and he knew how he should -double my gratification, by wafting his kind praise to me secretly, -softly, and unsuspectedly, through so genial a channel. - -How I wish you could catch a glimpse of my dear father upon these -occasions! and see the conscious smiles, which, however decorously -suppressed by pursing his lips, gleam through every turn, every line, -every bit and morsel of his kind countenance during the processes of -these agreeable flummeries—for such, I know, my dear Mr. Crisp will -call them—and, helas! but too truly! Agreeable, however, they are! -’twere vain to deny that. And here—O how unexpected! I am always -trembling in fear of a reverse—but not from you, my dearest Mr. Crisp, -will it come to your faithful, - - F. B. - - * * * * * - -Pleasant to Dr. Burney as was this tide of favour, by which he was -exhilarated through this second publication of his daughter, it had not -yet reached the climax to which it soon afterwards arose; which was the -junction of the two first men of the country, if not of the age, in -proclaiming each to the other, at an assembly at Miss Moncton’s, where -they seated themselves by her side, their kind approvance of this work; -and proclaiming it, each animated by the spirit of the other, “in the -noblest terms that our language, in its highest glory, is capable of -emitting.” - -Such were the words of Dr. Johnson himself, in speaking afterwards to -Dr. Burney of Mr. Burke’s share in this flattering dialogue; to which -Dr. Burney ever after looked back as to the height of his daughter’s -literary honours; though he could scarcely then foresee the extent, and -the expansion, of that indulgent partiality with which each of them, -ever after, invariably distinguished her to the last hour of their -lives. - -Thus salubriously for Dr. Burney had been cheered the opening winter -of 1782, by the celebrated old Wits, Owen Cambridge and Soame Jenyns; -through the philanthropy and good-humour which cheered for themselves -and their friends the winter of their own lives: and thus radiant with -a warmth which Sol in his summer’s glory could not deepen, had gone on -the same winter to 1783, through the glowing suffrage of the two first -luminaries that brightened the constellation of genius of the reign of -George the Third,—Dr. Johnson and Edmund Burke—— - -But not in fair harmony of progression with this commencement -proceeded the year 1783! its April had a harshness which its January -had escaped. It brought with it no fragrance of happiness to Dr. -Burney. With a blight opened this fatal spring, and with a blast it -closed! - - * * * * * - - - - -MRS. THRALE. - - -All being now, though in the dark, and unannounced, arranged for the -determined alliance, Mrs. Thrale abandoned London as she had forsaken -Streatham, and, in the beginning of April, retired with her three -eldest daughters to Bath; there to reside, till she could complete a -plan, then in agitation, for superseding the maternal protection with -all that might yet be attainable of propriety and dignity. - -Dr. Burney was deeply hurt by this now palpably threatening event: -the virtues of Mrs. Thrale had borne an equal poize in his admiration -with her talents; both were of an extraordinary order. He had praised, -he had loved, he had sung them. Nor was he by any means so severe a -disciplinarian over the claims of taste, or the elections of the heart, -as to disallow their unalienable rights of being candidly heard, and -favourably listened to, in the disposal of our persons and our fates; -her choice, therefore, would have roused no severity, though it might -justly have excited surprise, had her birth, fortune, and rank in -life alone been at stake. But Mrs. Thrale had ties that appeared to -him to demand precedence over all feelings, all inclinations—in five -daughters, who were juvenile heiresses. - -To Bath, however, she went; and truly grieved was the prophetic spirit -of Dr. Burney at her departure; which he looked upon as the catastrophe -of Streatham. - - - - -MRS. DELANY. - - -From circumstances peculiarly fortunate with regard to the time of -their operation, some solace opened to Dr. Burney for himself, and -still more to his parental kindness for this Memorialist, in this -season of disappointment and deprivation, from a beginning intercourse -which now took place for both, with _the fairest model of female -excellence of the days that were passed_, Mrs. Delany.[55] - -Such were the words by which Mrs. Delany had been pictured to this -Memorialist by Mr. Burke, at Miss Moncton’s assembly; and such was the -impression of her character under which this connexion was begun by Dr. -Burney. - -The proposition for an acquaintance, and the negotiation for its -commencement between the parties, had been committed, by Mrs. Delany -herself, to Mrs. Chapone; whose literary endowments stood not higher, -either in public or in private estimation, than the virtues of her -mind, and the goodness of her heart. Both were evinced by her popular -writings for the female sex, at a time when its education, whether from -Timidity or Indolence, required a spur, far more certainly than its -cynic traducers can prove that now, from Ambition or Temerity, it calls -for a bridle. - -As Dr. Burney could not make an early visit, and Mrs. Delany could -not receive a late one, Mrs. Chapone was commissioned to engage the -daughter to a quiet dinner; and the Doctor to join the party in the -evening. - -This was assented to with the utmost pleasure, both father and daughter -being stimulated in curiosity and expectance by Mr. Crisp, who had -formerly known and admired Mrs. Delany, and had been a favourite with -her bosom friend, the Dowager Duchess of Portland; and with some other -of her elegant associates. - -As this venerable lady still lives in the memoirs and correspondence of -Dean Swift,[56] an account of this interview, abridged from a letter -to Mr. Crisp, will not, perhaps, be unwillingly received, as a genuine -picture of an aged lady of rare accomplishments, and high-bred manners, -of olden times; who had strikingly been distinguished by Dean Swift, -and was now energetically esteemed by Mr. Burke. - -Under the wing of the respectable Mrs. Chapone, this Memorialist was -first conveyed to the dwelling of Mrs. Delany in St. James’s Place. - -Mrs. Delany was alone; but the moment her guests were announced, with -an eagerness that seemed forgetful of her years, and that denoted the -most flattering pleasure, she advanced to the door of her apartment to -receive them. - -Mrs. Chapone presented to her by name the Memorialist, whose hand she -took with almost youthful vivacity, saying: “Miss Burney must pardon me -if I give her an old-fashioned reception; for I know nothing new!” And -she kindly saluted her. - -With a grace of manner the most striking, she then placed Mrs. Chapone -on the sofa, and led the Memorialist to a chair next to her own, -saying: “Can you forgive, Miss Burney, the very great liberty I have -taken of asking you to my little dinner? But you could not come in -the morning; and I wished so impatiently to see one from whom I have -received such very extraordinary pleasure, that I could not bear to put -it off to another day: for I have no days, now, to throw away! And if -I waited for the evening, I might, perhaps, have company. And I hear -so ill in mixt society, that I cannot, as I wish to do, attend to more -than one at a time; for age, now, is making me more stupid even than I -am by nature. And how grieved and mortified I should have been to have -known I had Miss Burney in the room, and not to have heard what she -said!” - -Tone, manner, and look, so impressively marked the sincerity of this -humility, as to render it,—her time of life, her high estimation in -the world, and her rare acquirements considered,—as touching as it was -unexpected to her new guest. - -Mrs. Delany still was tall, though some of her height was probably -lost. Not much, however, for she was remarkably upright. There were -little remains of beauty left in feature; but benevolence, softness, -piety, and sense, were all, as conversation brought them into play, -depicted in her face, with a sweetness of look and manner, that, -notwithstanding her years, were nearly fascinating. - -The report generally spread of her being blind, added surprise to -pleasure at such active personal civilities in receiving her visitors. -Blind, however, she palpably was not. She was neither led about the -room, nor afraid of making any false step, or mistake; and the turn -of her head to those whom she meant to address, was constantly right. -The expression, also, of her still pleasing, though dim eyes, told no -sightless tale; but, on the contrary, manifested that she had by no -means lost the view of the countenance any more than of the presence of -her company. - -But the fine perception by which, formerly, she had drawn, painted, cut -out, worked, and read, was obscured; and of all those accomplishments -in which she had excelled, she was utterly deprived. - -Of their former possession, however, there were ample proofs to -demonstrate their value; her apartments were hung round with pictures -of her own painting, beautifully designed and delightfully coloured; -and ornaments of her own execution of striking elegance, in cuttings -and variegated stained paper, embellished her chimney-piece; partly -copied from antique studies, partly of fanciful invention; but all -equally in the chaste style of true and refined good taste. - -At the request of Mrs. Chapone, she instantly and unaffectedly brought -forth a volume of her newly-invented Mosaic flower-work; an art of her -own creation; consisting of staining paper of all possible colours, and -then cutting it into strips, so finely and delicately, that when pasted -on a dark ground, in accordance to the flower it was to produce, it -had the appearance of a beautiful painting; except that it rose to the -sight with a still richer effect: and this art Mrs. Delany had invented -at seventy-five years of age![57] - -It was so long, she said, after its suggestion, before she brought -her work into any system, that in the first year she finished only -two flowers: but in the second she accomplished sixteen; and in the -third, one hundred and sixty. And after that, many more. They were all -from nature, the fresh gathered, or still growing plant, being placed -immediately before her for imitation. Her collection consisted of -whatever was most choice and rare in flowers, plants, and weeds; or, -more properly speaking, field flowers; for, as Thomson ingeniously says, -it is the “dull incurious” alone who stigmatise these native offsprings -of Flora by the degrading title of weeds. - -Her plan had been to finish one thousand, for a complete herbal; but -its progress had been stopped short, by the feebleness of her sight, -when she was within only twenty of her original scheme. - -She had always marked the spot whence she took, or received, her model, -with the date of the year on the corner of each flower, in different -coloured letters; “but the last year,” she meekly said, “when I found -my eyes becoming weaker and weaker, and threatening to fail me before -my plan could be completed, I cut out my initials, M. D., in white, for -I fancied myself nearly working in my winding sheet!” - -There was something in her smile at this melancholy speech that -blended so much cheerfulness with resignation, as to render it, to the -Memorialist, extremely affecting. - -Mrs. Chapone inquired whether her eyes had been injured by any cold? - -Instantly, at the question, recalling her spirits, “No, no!” she -replied; “nothing has attacked them but my reigning malady, old -age!—’Tis, however, only what we are all striving to obtain! And -I, for one, have found it a very comfortable state. Yesterday, -nevertheless, my peculiar infirmity was rather distressing to me. I -received a note from young Mr. Montagu,[58] written in the name of -his aunt,[59] that required an immediate answer. But how could I give -it to what I could not even read? My good Astley[60] was, by great -chance, gone abroad; and my housemaid can neither write nor read; and -my man happened to be in disgrace, so I could not do him such a favour -[smiling] as to be obliged to him! I resolved, therefore, to try, once -more, to read myself; and I hunted out my old long-laid-by magnifier. -But it would not do! it was all in vain! - -I then ferretted out a larger glass; and with that, I had the great -satisfaction to make out the first word,—but before I could get at the -second, even the first became a blank! My eyes, however, have served me -so long and so well, that I should be very ungrateful to quarrel with -them. I then, luckily, recollected that my cook is a scholar! So I sent -for her, and we made out the billet together—which, indeed, deserved a -much better answer than I, or my cook either, scholar as she is, could -bestow. But my dear niece will be with me ere long, and then I shall -not be quite such a bankrupt to my correspondents.” - -Bankrupt, indeed, was she not, to gaiety, to good-humour, or to -polished love of giving pleasure to her social circle, any more than to -keeping pace with her correspondents. - -When Mrs. Chapone mentioned, with much regret, that a previous evening -engagement must force her away at half-past seven o’clock, “Half-past -seven?” Mrs. Delany repeated, with an arch smile; “O fie! fie! Mrs. -Chapone! why Miss Larolles would not for the world go anywhere before -eight or nine!”[61] - -And when the Memorialist, astonished as well as diverted at such a -sally from Mrs. Delany, yet desirous, from embarrassment, not to seem -to have noticed it, turned to look at some of the pictures, and stopped -at a charming portrait of Madame de Savigné, to remark its expressive -mixture of sweetness, intelligence, and vivacity, the smile of Mrs. -Delany became yet archer, as she sportively said, “Yes!—she looks -very—_enjouée_, as Captain Aresby would say.” - -This was not a speech to lessen, or meant to lessen, either surprise or -amusement in the Memorialist, who, nevertheless, quietly continued her -examination of the pictures; till she stopped at a portrait that struck -her to have an air of spirit and genius, that induced her to inquire -whom it represented. - -Mrs. Delany did not mention the name, but only answered, “I don’t know -how it is, Mrs. Chapone, but I can never, of late, look at that picture -without thinking of poor Belfield.” - -This was heard with a real start—though certainly not of pain! But -that Mrs. Delany, at her very advanced time of life, eighty-three, -should thus have personified to herself the characters of a book so -recently published, mingled in its pleasure nearly as much astonishment -as gratification. - -Mrs. Delany—still clear-sighted to countenance, at least—seemed to -read her thoughts, and, kindly taking her hand, smilingly said: “You -must forgive us, Miss Burney! it is not quite a propriety, I own, to -talk of these people before you; but we don’t know how to speak at all, -now, without naming them, they run so in our heads!” - -Early in the evening, they were joined by Mrs. Delany’s beloved and -loving friend, the Duchess Dowager of Portland; a lady who, though not -as exquisitely pleasing, any more than as interesting by age as Mrs. -Delany,—who, born with the century, was now in her 83d year, had yet -a physiognomy that, when lighted up by any discourse in which she took -a part from personal feelings, was singularly expressive of sweetness, -sense, and dignity; three words that exactly formed the description of -her manners; which were not merely free from pride, but free, also, -from its mortifying deputy, affability. - -Mrs. Delany, that pattern of the old school in high politeness, was -now, it is probable, in the sphere whence Mr. Burke had signalized -her by that character; for her reception of the Duchess of Portland, -and her conduct to that noble friend, strikingly displayed the -self-possession that good taste with good breeding can bestow, even -upon the most timid mind, in doing the honours of home to a superior. - -She welcomed her Grace with as much respectful ceremony as if this had -been a first visit; to manifest that, what in its origin, she had taken -as an honour, she had so much true humility as to hold to be rather -more than less so in its continuance; yet she constantly exerted a -spirit, in pronouncing her opposing or concurring sentiments, in the -conversation that ensued, that shewed as dignified an independence of -character, as it marked a sincerity as well as happiness of friendship, -in the society of her elevated guest. - -The Memorialist was presented to her Grace, who came with the -expectation of meeting her, in the most gentle and flattering terms by -Mrs. Delany; and she was received with kindness rather than goodness. -The watchful regard of the Duchess for Mrs. Delany, soon pointed out -the marked partiality which that revered lady was already conceiving -for her new visitor; and the Duchess, pleased to abet, as salubrious, -every cheering propensity in her beloved friend, immediately disposed -herself to second it with the most obliging alacrity. - -Mrs. Delany, gratified by this apparent approvance, then started the -subject of the recent publication, with a glow of pleasure that, though -she uttered her favouring opinions with the most unaffected, the -chastest simplicity, made the “eloquent blood” rush at every flattering -sentence into her pale, soft, aged cheeks, as if her years had been as -juvenile as her ideas, and her kindness. - -Animated by the animation of her friend, the Duchess gaily increased -it by her own; and the warm-hearted Mrs. Chapone still augmented its -energy, by her benignant delight that she had brought such a scene to -bear for her young companion: while all three sportively united in -talking of the characters in the publication, as if speaking of persons -and incidents of their own peculiar knowledge. - -On the first pause upon a theme which, though unavoidably embarrassing, -could not, in hands of such noble courtesy, that knew how to make -flattery subservient to elegance, and praise to delicacy, be seriously -distressing; the deeply honoured, though confused object of so much -condescension, seized the vacant moment for starting the name of Mr. -Crisp. - -Nothing could better propitiate the introduction which Dr. Burney -desired for himself to the correspondent of Dean Swift, and the quondam -acquaintance of his early monitor, Mr. Crisp, than bringing this latter -upon the scene. - -The Duchess now took the lead in the discourse, and was charmed to hear -tidings of a former friend, who had been missed so long in the world as -to be thought lost. She inquired minutely into his actual way of life, -his health and his welfare; and whether he retained his fondness and -high taste for all the polite arts. - -To the Memorialist this was a topic to give a flow of spirits, that -spontaneously banished the reserve and silence with strangers of -which she stood generally accused: and her history of the patriarchal -attachment of Mr. Crisp to Dr. Burney, and its benevolent extension to -every part of his family, while it revived Mr. Crisp to the memories -and regard of the Duchess and of Mrs. Delany, stimulated their wishes -to know the man—Dr. Burney—who alone, of all the original connexions -of Mr. Crisp, had preserved such power over his affections, as to be a -welcome inmate to his almost hermetically closed retreat. - -And the account of Chesington Hall, its insulated and lonely position, -its dilapidated state, its nearly inaccessible roads, its quaint old -pictures, and straight long garden paths; was as curious and amusing -to Mrs. Chapone, who was spiritedly awake to whatever was romantic or -uncommon, as the description of the chief of the domain was interesting -to those who had known him when he was as eminently a man of the world, -as he was now become, singularly, the recluse of a village. - -Such was the basis of the intercourse that thenceforward took place -between Dr. Burney and the admirable Mrs. Delany; who was not, from her -feminine and elegant character, and her skill in the arts, more to the -taste of Dr. Burney, than he had the honour to be to her’s, from his -varied acquirements, and his unstrained readiness to bring them forth -in social meetings. While his daughter, who thus, by chance, was the -happy instrument of this junction, reaped from it a delight that was -soon exalted to even bosom felicity, from the indulgent partiality with -which that graceful pattern of olden times met, received, and cherished -the reverential attachment which she inspired; and which imperceptibly -graduated into a mutual, a trusting, a sacred friendship; as soothing, -from his share in its formation, to her honoured Mr. Crisp, as it was -delighting to Dr. Burney from its seasonable mitigation of the loss, -the disappointment, the breaking up of Streatham. - - - - -MR. CRISP. - - -But though this gently cheering, and highly honourable connexion, -by its kindly operation, offered the first mental solace to that -portentous journey to Bath, which with a blight had opened the spring -of 1783; that blight was still unhealed in the excoriation of its -infliction, when a new incision of anguish, more deeply cutting still, -and more permanently incurable, pierced the heart of Dr. Burney by -tidings from Chesington, that Mr. Crisp was taken dangerously ill. - -The ravages of the gout, which had long laid waste the health, -strength, spirits, and life-enjoying nerves of this admirable man, now -extended their baleful devastations to the seats of existence, the head -and the breast; wavering occasionally in their work, with something of -less relentless rigour, but never abating in menace of fatality. - -Susanna,—now Mrs. Phillips,—was at Chesington at the time of the -seizure; and to her gentle bosom, and most reluctant pen, fell the -sorrowing task of announcing this quick-approaching calamity to Dr. -Burney, and all his house: and in the same unison that had been their -love, was now their grief. Sorrow, save at the dissolution of conjugal -or filial ties, could go no deeper. The Doctor would have abandoned -every call of business or interest,—for pleasure at such a period, -had no call to make! in order to embrace and to attend upon his long -dearest friend, if his Susanna had not dissuaded him from so mournful -an exertion, by representations of the uncertainty of finding even a -moment in which it might be safe to risk any agitation to the sufferer; -whose pains were so torturing, that he fervently and perpetually prayed -to heaven for the relief of death:—while the prayers for the dying -were read to him daily by his pious sister, Mrs. Gast. - -And only by the most urgent similar remonstrances, could the elder[62] -or the younger[63] of the Doctor’s daughters be kept away; so -completely as a fond father was Mr. Crisp loved by all. - -But this Memorialist, to whom, for many preceding years, Mr. Crisp had -rendered Chesington a second, a tender, an always open, always inviting -home, was so wretched while withheld from seeking once more his sight -and his benediction, that Dr. Burney could not long oppose her wishes. -In some measure, indeed, he sent her as his own representative, by -entrusting to her a letter full of tender attachment and poignant -grief from himself; which he told her not to deliver, lest it should -be oppressive or too affecting; but to keep in hand, for reading more -or less of it to him herself, according to the strength, spirits, and -wishes of his dying friend. - -With this fondly-sad commission, she hastened to Chesington; where -she found her Susanna, and all the house, immersed in affliction: and -where, in about a week, she endured the heartfelt sorrow of witnessing -the departure of the first, the most invaluable, the dearest Friend -of her mourning Father; and the inestimable object of her own chosen -confidence, her deepest respect, and, from her earliest youth, almost -filial affection. - -She had the support, however, of the soul-soothing sympathy of -her Susanna; and the tender consolation of having read to him, by -intervals, nearly the whole of Dr. Barney’s touching Farewell! and of -having seen that her presence had been grateful to him, even in the -midst of his sufferings; and of inhaling the balmy kindness with which -his nearly final powers of utterance had called her “the dearest thing -to him on earth!” - -This wound, in its acuteness to Dr. Burney, was only less lacerating -than that which had bled from the stroke that had torn away from -him the early and adored partner of his heart. But the submissive -resignation and patient philosophy with which he bore it, will best -be exemplified by the following extract from a letter, written, on -this occasion, to his second daughter; whose quick feelings had—as -yet!—only once been strongly called forth; and that nearly in -childhood, on her maternal deprivation; who knew not, therefore, -enough of their force to be guarded against their invasion: and who, -in the depth of her grief, had shut herself up in mournful seclusion; -for,—blind to sickly foresight!—neither the age nor the infirmities -of Mr. Crisp had worked upon her as preparatory to his exit. - -His age, indeed, as it was unaccompanied by the smallest diminution of -his faculties, though he had reached his seventy-sixth year, offered no -mitigation to grief for his death; though a general one, undoubtedly, -to its shock. What we lament, is what we lose; what we lose, whether -young or old, is what we miss: it may justly, therefore, perhaps, be -affirmed, that youth and beauty, however more elegiacally they may be -sung, are only by the Lover and the Poet mourned over with stronger -regret than age and goodness. - -The animadversions upon the excess of sorrow to which this extract -may give rise, must not induce the Memorialist of Dr. Burney to spare -herself from their infliction, by withholding what she considers it her -bounden duty to produce, a document that strikingly displays his tender -parental kindness, his patient wisdom, and his governed sensibility. - - “TO MISS BURNEY. - - “ * * I am much more afflicted than surprised at the violence - and duration of your sorrow for the terrible scenes and - events you have witnessed at Chesington; and not only pity - you, but participate in all your feelings. Not an hour in the - day has passed—as you will some time or other find—since the - fatal catastrophe, in which I have not felt a pang for the - irreparable loss I have sustained. However, as something is - due to the _living_—there is, perhaps, a boundary at which it - is right to _endeavour_ to stop in lamenting the _dead_. It - is very difficult,—as I have found!—to exceed that boundary - in our duty or attention, without its being at the expense of - others. I have experienced the loss of one so dear to me as to - throw me into the utmost affliction of despondency which can - be suffered without insanity. But I had claims on my life, my - reason, and my activity, which, joined to higher motives, drew - me from the pit of despair, and forced me, though with great - difficulty, to rouse and exert every nerve and faculty in - answering them. - - “It has been very well said of mental wounds, that they must - digest, like those of the body, before they can be healed. The - poultice of necessity can alone, perhaps, in some cases, bring - on this digestion; but we should not impede it by caustics or - corrosions. Let the wound be open a due time—but not kept bare - with violence.— - - “To quit all metaphor, we must, alas! try to diminish our - sorrow for one calamity to enable us to support another! A - general peace gives but time to refit for new war; a mental - blow, or wound, is no more. So far, however, am I from blaming - your sorrow on the present occasion, that, in fact, I both - love and honour you for it;—and, therefore, will add no more - on that melancholy subject. With respect to the other,—&c. &c. - - “* * *.” - -It would be needless, it is hoped, to say that this mild and admirable -exhortation effected fully its benevolent purpose. With grateful -tears, and immediate compliance to his will, she hastened to his arms, -received his tenderest welcome, and, quitting her chamber seclusion, -again joined the family—if not with immediate cheerfulness, at least -with composure: and again, upon his motion, and under his loved wing, -returned to the world; if not with inward gaiety, with outward, yet -true and unaffected gratitude for the kindness with which it received -her back again to its circles:—but Mr. Crisp was not less gone, nor -less internally lamented! - -What the Doctor intimates of the proofs she would one day find of the -continual occupation of his thoughts by his departed friend, alludes to -an elegy to which he was then devoting every instant he could snatch -from his innumerable engagements; and which, as a memorial of his -friendship, was soothing to his affliction. It opens with the following -lines. - - - “ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND. - - “The guide and tutor of my early youth, - Whose word was wisdom, and whose wisdom, truth, - Whose cordial kindness, and whose active zeal - Full forty years I never ceas’d to feel; - The Friend to whose abode I eager stole - To pour each inward secret of my soul; - The dear companion of my leisure hours, - Whose cheerful looks, and intellectual powers, - Drove care, anxiety, and doubt away, - And all the fiends that on reflection prey, - Is now no more!—The features of that face - Where glow’d intelligence and manly grace; - Those eyes which flash’d with intellectual fire - Kindled by all that genius could inspire— - Those, those—and all his pleasing powers are fled - To the cold, squalid mansions of the dead! - This highly polished gem, which shone so bright, - Impervious now, eclips’d in viewless night - From earthly eye, irradiates no more - This nether sphere!”— - -What follows, though in the same strain of genuine grief and exalted -friendship, is but an amplification of these lines; and too diffuse -for any eyes but those to which the object of the panegyric had been -familiar; and which, from habitually seeing and studying that honoured -object, coveted, like Dr. Burney himself, to dwell, to linger upon its -excellencies with fond reminiscence. - -Mrs. Gast, the sister of Mr. Crisp, and Mrs. Catherine Cooke, his -residuary legatee, put up a monument to his memory in the little church -of Chesington, for which Dr. Burney wrote the following epitaph. - - - TO THE MEMORY - - OF - - SAMUEL CRISP, ESQ., - - _Who died April 24, 1783, aged 76_. - - May Heaven—through our merciful REDEEMER—receive his soul! - - Reader! This rude and humble spot contains - The much lamented, much revered remains - Of one whose learning, judgment, taste, and sense, - Good-humour’d wit, and mild benevolence - Charm’d and enlighten’d all the hamlet round, - Wherever genius, worth,—or want was found. - To few it is that bounteous heaven imparts - Such depth of knowledge, and such taste in arts; - Such penetration, and enchanting powers - Of brightening social and convivial hours. - Had he, through life, been blest, by nature kind, - With health robust of body as of mind, - With skill to serve and charm mankind, so great - In arts, in science, letters, church, or state, - His fame the nation’s annals had enroll’d, - And virtues to remotest ages told. - - C. BURNEY. - -And the following brief account of this event the Doctor sent, in the -ensuing May, to the newspapers. - -Last week died, at Chesington, in Surrey, whither he had long -retired from the world, Samuel Crisp, Esq., aged 75, whose loss will -be for ever deplored by all those who were admitted into his retreat, -and had the happiness of enjoying his conversation; which was rendered -captivating by all that wit, learning, profound knowledge of mankind, -and a most exquisite taste in the fine arts, as well as in all that -embellishes human life, could furnish. - -And thus, from the portentous disappearance of Mrs. Thrale, with a -blight had opened this fatal spring; and thus, from the irreparable -loss of Mr. Crisp, with a blast it closed! - - - - -HISTORY OF MUSIC. - - -Even to his History of Music the Doctor knew not, now, how to turn his -attention; Chesington had so constantly been the charm, as well as the -retreat for its pursuit, and Chesington and Mr. Crisp had seemed so -indissolubly one, that it was long ere the painful resolution could -be gathered of trying how to support what remained, when they were -sundered. - -Of the two most intimate of his musical friends after Mr. Crisp, Mr. -Twining of Colchester came less frequently than ever to town; and -Mr. Bewley of Massingham was too distant for any regularity of even -annual meetings. And those friends still within his reach, in whom -he took the deepest interest, Dr. Johnson, Mr. Burke, and Sir Joshua -Reynolds, were too little conversant in music to be usefully sought -at this music-devoted period. They had neither taste nor care for -his art, and not the smallest knowledge upon its subject. Yet this, -though for the moment, nearly a misfortune, was not any impediment -to friendship on either side: Dr. Burney had too general a love of -literature, as well as of the arts, to limit his admiration, any more -than his acquirements, to his own particular cast; while the friends -just mentioned regarded his musical science but as a matter apart; and -esteemed and loved him solely for the qualities that he possessed in -common with themselves. - -Compelled was he, nevertheless, to endure the altered Chesington; -where, happily, however, then resided his tender Susanna; whose sight -was always a charm, and whose converse had a balm that enabled him -again to return to his work, though it had lost, for the present, -all voluntary influence over his spirits. But choice was out of the -question; he had a given engagement to fulfil; and there was no place -so sacred from intrusion as Chesington. - -Thither, therefore, he repaired; and there, in laborious study, he -remained, till the season for his professional toils called him again -to St. Martin’s-street. - -The first spur that urged his restoration to the world, and its ways, -was given through the lively and frequent inquiries made after him -and his history by sundry celebrated foreigners, German, Italian, and -French. - - - - -BACH OF BERLIN. - - -Amongst his German correspondents, Dr. Burney ranked first the -super-eminent Emanuel Bach, commonly known by the appellation of Bach -of Berlin; whose erudite depths in the science, and exquisite taste in -the art of music, seemed emulously combatting one with the other for -precedence; so equal was what he owed to inspiration and to study. - -Dr. Burney had the great satisfaction, publicly and usefully, to -demonstrate his admiration of this superior musician, by successfully -promoting both the knowledge and the sale of his works. - - - - -HAYDN. - - -With the equally, and yet more popularly celebrated Haydn, Dr. Burney -was in correspondence many years before that noble and truly CREATIVE -composer visited England; and almost enthusiastic was the admiration -with which the musical historian opened upon the subject, and the -matchless merits, of that sublime genius, in the fourth volume of the -History of Music. “I am now,” he says, “happily arrived at that part of -my narrative where it is necessary to speak of HAYDN, the incomparable -HAYDN; from whose productions I have received more pleasure late in -life, when tired of most other music, than I ever enjoyed in the most -ignorant and rapturous part of my youth, when every thing was new, -and the disposition to be pleased was undiminished by criticism, or -satiety.” - - - - -EBELING. - - -The German correspondent to whom Dr. Burney was most indebted for -information, entertainment, and liberal friendship, was Mynhere -Ebeling, a native of Hamborough, who volunteered his services to -the Doctor, by opening a correspondence in English, immediately upon -reading the first, or French and Italian tour, with a zeal full of -sprightliness and good-humour; solidly seconded by well understood -documents in aid of the Musical History.[64] - - - - -PADRE MARTINI. - - -Amongst the Italians, the most essential to his business was Padre -Martini; the most essential and the most generous. While the Doctor -was at Bologna, he was allowed free access to the rare library of that -learned Padre, with permission to examine his Istoria della Musica, -before it was published. And this favour was followed by a display -of the whole of the materials which the Padre had collected for his -elaborate undertaking: upon all which he conversed with a frankness -and liberality, that appeared to the Doctor to spring from a nature -so completely void of all earthly drops of envy, jealousy, or love of -pre-eminence, as to endow him with the nobleness of wishing that a -fellow-labourer in the same vineyard in which he was working himself, -should share the advantages of his toil, and reap in common its fruits. - -With similar openness the Doctor returned every communication; and -produced his own plan, of which he presented the Padre with a copy, -which that modest man of science most gratefully received; declaring -it to be not only edifying, but, in some points, surprisingly new. -They entered into a correspondence of equal interest to both, which -subsisted, to their mutual pleasure, credit, and advantage, through the -remnant life of the good old Padre; and which not unfrequently owed its -currency to the friendly intervention of the amiable, and, as far as -his leisure and means accorded with his native inclination, literary -Pacchierotti. - - - - -METASTASIO. - - -With Metastasio, who in chaste pathos of sentimental eloquence, and -a purity of expression that seems to emanate from purity of feeling, -stands nearly unequalled, he assiduously maintained the intercourse -which he had happily begun with that laureate-poet at Vienna. - - - - -M. BERQUIN. - - -Of the French correspondents, M. Berquin, the true though self-named -children’s friend, was foremost in bringing letters of strong -recommendation to the Doctor from Paris. - -M. Berquin warmly professed that the first inquiry he made upon his -entrance into London, was for the _Hôtel du Grand Newton_; where -he offered up incense to the owner, and to his second daughter, of -so overpowering a perfume, that it would have derogated completely -from the character of verity and simplicity that makes the charm of -his tales for juvenile pupils, had it not appeared, from passages -published in his works after his return to France, that he had really -wrought himself into feeling the enthusiasm that here had appeared -overstrained, unnatural, and almost, at least to the daughter, -burlesque. In an account of him, written at this time to her sister -Susanna, are these words: - - -“TO MRS. PHILLIPS. - -“We have a new man, now, almost always at the house, who has brought -letters to my father from some of his best French correspondents, M. -Berquin; author of the far most interesting lessons of moral conduct -for adolescence or for what Mr. Walpole would call the _betweenity_ -time that intervals the boy or girl from the man or woman, that ever -sprang from a vivid imagination, under the strictest guidance of right -and reason. But to all this that is so proper, or rather, so excellent, -M. Berquin joins an exuberance of devotion towards _l’Hôtel du Grand -Newton_, and its present owner, and, above all, that owner’s second -bairne, that seems with difficulty held back from mounting into an -ecstacy really comic. He brought a set of his charming little volumes -with him, and begged my mother to present them to _Mademoiselle -Beurnie_; with compliments upon the occasion too florid for writing -even, my Susan, to you. And though I was in the room the whole time, -quietly scollopping a muslin border, and making entreating signs to -my mother not to betray me, he never once suspected I might be the -demoiselle myself, because—I am much afraid!—he saw nothing about me -to answer to the splendour of his expectations! However, he has since -made the discovery, and had the gallantry to comport himself as if -he had made it—poor man!—without disappointment. Since then I have -begun some acquaintance with him; but his rapture every time I speak -is too great to be excited often! therefore, I am chary of my words. -You would laugh irresistibly to see how _enchanté_ he deems it fit to -appear every time I open my mouth! holding up one hand aloft, as if in -sign to all others present to keep the peace! And yet, save for this -complimentary extravagance, his manners and appearance are the most -simple, candid, and unpretending.” - - * * * * * - -Dr. Burney himself was seriously of opinion that all the superfluity -of civility here described, was the mere effervescence of a romantic -imagination; not of artifice, or studied adulation.[65] - - - - -MM. LES COMTES DE LA ROCHEFAUCAULT. - - -Messieurs les Comtes de la Rochefaucault, sons of the Duc de Liancourt, -when quite youths, were brought, at the desire of their father, to a -morning visit in St. Martin’s-street, with their English tutor, Mr. -Symonds, by Arthur Young; to whose superintending care and friendship -they had been committed, for the study of agriculture according to the -English mode. - -The Duke had a passion for farming, for England, for improvement; and -above all, for liberty,—which was then rising in glowing ferment in -his nation; with little consciousness, and no foresight, of the bloody -scenes in which it was to set! - - - - -THE DUC DE LIANCOURT. - - -The Duc de Liancourt himself, not long afterwards, came over to -England, and, through the medium of Mr. Young, addressed letters of the -most flattering politeness to Dr. Burney; soliciting his acquaintance, -and, through his influence, an interview with _Mademoiselle Berney_. -The latter, however, had so invincible a repugnance to being singled -out with such undue distinction by strangers, that she prevailed, -though with much difficulty, upon her father, to consent to her -non-appearance when this visit took place. The Duke was too well -bred not to pardon, though, no doubt, he more than marvelled at this -_mauvaise honte Anglaise_. - -He made his visit, however, very agreeable to the Doctor, who found -him of lofty manners, person, and demeanour; of liberal and enlightened -sentiments and opinions; and ardent to acquire new, but practical -notions of national liberty; with the noble intention of propagating -them amongst his countrymen: an intention which the turbulent humour -of the times warpt and perverted into results the most opposed to his -genuine views and wishes. - - - - -BRISSOT DE WARVILLE. - - -Brissot de Warville had begun an acquaintance with Dr. Burney upon -meeting with him at the apartment of the famous Linguet, during the -residence in England of that eloquent, powerful, unfortunate victim of -parts too strong for his judgment, and of impulses too imperious for -his safety. - -At this time, 1783, Brissot de Warville announced himself as a member -of a French committee employed to select subjects in foreign countries, -for adding to the national stock of worthies of his own soil, who were -destined to immortality, by having their portraits, busts, or statues, -elevated in the Paris Pantheon. And, as such, he addressed a letter to -Dr. Burney. He had been directed, he said, to choose, in England, a -female for this high honour; and he wrote to Dr. Burney to say, that -the gentlewoman upon whom it had pleased him to fix—was no other than -a daughter of the Doctor’s![66] - -At that astonished daughter’s earnest supplication, the Doctor, with -proper acknowledgments, declined accepting this towering compliment. - -M. Brissot employed his highest pains of flattery to conquer this -repugnance; but head, heart, and taste were in opposition to his -pleadings, and he had no chance of success. - -Speedily after, M. Brissot earnestly besought permission to introduce -to _l’Hôtel du Grand Newton_ his newly-married wife; and a day was -appointed on which he brought thither his blooming young bride, who -had been English Reader, he said, to her Serene Highness Mademoiselle -d’Orleans,[67] under the auspices of the celebrated Comtesse de -Genlis.[68] - -Madame Brissot was pretty, and gentle, and had a striking air of -youthful innocence. They seemed to live together in tender amity, -perfectly satisfied in following literary pursuits. But it has since -appeared that Brissot was here upon some deep political projects, of -which he afterwards extended the practice to America. He had by no -means, at that time, assumed the dogmatizing dialect, or betrayed the -revolutionary principles, which, afterwards, contributed to hurl the -monarchy, the religion, and the happiness of France into that murderous -abyss of anarchy into which, ill-foreseen! he was himself amongst the -earliest to be precipitated. - -This single visit began and ended the Brissot commerce with St. -Martin’s-street. M. Brissot had a certain low-bred fullness and -forwardness of look, even in the midst of professions of humility and -respect, that were by no means attractive to Dr. Burney; by whom this -latent demagogue, who made sundry attempts to enter into a bookish -intimacy in St. Martin’s-street, was so completely shirked, that -nothing more was there seen or known of him, till his jacobinical -harangues and proceedings, five years later, were blazoned to the world -by the republican gazettes. - -What became of his pretty wife in aftertimes; whether she were involved -in his destruction, or sunk his name to save her life, has not been -recorded. Dr. Burney heard of her no more; and always regretted that -he had been deluded into shewing even the smallest token of hospitality -to her intriguing husband: yet great was his thankfulness, that the -delusion had not been of such strength, as to induce him to enrol -a representation of his daughter in a selection made by a man of -principles and conduct so opposite to his own; however, individually, -the collection might have been as flattering to his parental pride, -as her undue entrance into such a circle would have been painfully -ostentatious to the insufficient and unambitious object of M. Brissot’s -choice. - - - - -LE DUC DE CHAULNES. - - -Of the Duc de Chaulnes, the following account is copied from Dr. -Burney’s memorandums:— - - “In 1783, I dined at the Adelphi with Dr. Johnson and the - Duc de Chaulnes. This extraordinary personage, a great - traveller, and curious inquirer into the productions of art - and of nature, had recently been to China; and, amongst many - other discoveries that he had made in that immense and remote - region, of which he had brought specimens to Europe, being - a great chemist, he had particularly applied himself to the - disclosure of the means by which the Chinese obtain that - extraordinary brilliancy and permanence in the prismatic - colours, which is so much admired and envied by other nations. - - “I knew nothing of his being in England till, late one night, - I heard a bustle and different voices in the passage, or - little hall, in my house in St. Martin’s-street, commonly, - from its former great owner, called Newton House; when, on - inquiry, I was informed that there was a foreign gentleman, - with a guide and an interpreter, who was come to beg - permission to see the observatory of the _grand_ Newton. - - “I went out of the parlour to speak to this stranger, and to - invite him in. He accepted the offer with readiness, and I - promised to shew him the observatory the next morning; and - we soon became so well acquainted, that, two or three days - afterwards, he honoured me with the following note in English; - which I shall copy literally, for its foreign originality. - - “‘The Duke of Chaulnes’ best compliments to Doctor Burney: - he desires the favour of his company to dinner with Doctor - Johnson on Sunday next, between about three and four o’clock, - which is the hour convenient to the excellent old Doctor, the - best piece of man, indeed, that the Duke ever saw.’” - - This dinner took place, but was only productive of - disappointment; Dr. Johnson, unfortunately, was in a state of - bodily uneasiness and pain that unfitted him for exertion; - and well as his mind was disposed to do honour to the - civilities of a distinguished foreigner, his physical force - refused consent to his efforts. The Duke, however, was too - enlightened and too rational a man, to permit this failure - of his expectations to interfere with his previously formed - belief in the genius and powers of Dr. Johnson, when they were - unshackled by disease. - - Another note in English, which much amused Dr. Burney, - was written by the Duke in answer to an invitation to St. - Martin’s-street. - - “The Duke of Chaulnes’ best compliments to Doctor Burney. - He shall certainly do himself the honour of waiting on him - on Thursday evening at the English hour of tea. He begs him - a thousand pardons for the delay of his answer, but he was - himself waiting another answer which he was depending of.” - -Dr. Burney received the Duke in his study, which the Duke entered with -reverence, from a knowledge that he was treading boards that had been -trodden by the great Newton. He then developed at full length his -Chinese researches, discoveries, and opinions: after which, and having -examined and discoursed upon the Doctor’s library, he made an earnest -request to be brought to the acquaintance of _Mademoiselle Beurni_. - -The Doctor, who was never averse to what he thought expressive of -approbation, with quite as much pleasure, and almost as much eagerness -as the Duke, ushered his noble guest to the family tea-table; where -an introduction took place, so pompous on the part of the Duke, and so -embarrassed on that of its receiver, that finding, when it was over, -she simply bowed, and turned about to make the tea, without attempting -any conversational reply, he conceived that his eloquent _éloge_ had -not been understood; and, after a little general talk with Mr. Hoole -and his son, who were of the evening party, he approached her again, -with a grave desire to the Doctor of a second presentation. - -This, though unavoidably granted, produced nothing more brilliant to -satisfy his expectations; which then, in all probability, were changed -into pity, if not contempt, at so egregious a mark of that uncouth -malady of which her country stands arraigned, bashful shyness.[69] - - - - -BARRY. - - -Amongst the many cotemporary tributes paid to the merits of Dr. Burney, -there was one from a celebrated and estimable artist, that caused no -small diversion to the friends of the Doctor; and, perhaps, to the -public at large; from the Hibernian tale which it seemed instinctively -to unfold of the birth-place of its designer. - -The famous painter, Mr. Barry, after a formal declaration that his -picture of The Triumph of the Thames, which was painted for the Society -of Arts, should be devoted exclusively to immortalizing the eminent -dead, placed, in the watery groupes of the renowned departed, Dr. -Burney, then full of life and vigour. - -This whimsical incident produced from the still playful imagination -of Mr. Owen Cambridge the following _jeu d’esprit_; to which he was -incited by an accident that had just occurred to the celebrated Gibbon; -who, in stepping too lightly from, or to a boat of Mr. Cambridge’s, -had slipt into the Thames; whence, however, he was intrepidly and -immediately rescued, with no other mischief than a wet jacket, by one -of that fearless, water-proof race, denominated, by Mr. Gibbon, the -amphibious family of the Cambridges. - - “When Chloe’s picture was to Venus shown,” &c. - - PRIOR. - - “When Burney’s picture was to Gibbon shown, - The pleased historian took it for his own; - ‘For who, with shoulders dry, and powder’d locks, - E’er bath’d but I?’ He said, and rapt his box. - “Barry replied, ‘My lasting colours show - What gifts the painter’s pencil can bestow; - With nymphs of Thames, those amiable creatures, - I placed the charming minstrel’s smiling features: - But let not, then, his _bonne fortune_ concern ye, - For there are nymphs enough for you—and Burney.’” - - - - -DR. JOHNSON. - - -But all that Dr. Burney possessed, either of spirited resistance or -acquiescent submission to misfortune, was again to be severely tried -in the summer that followed the spring of this unkindly year; for the -health of his venerated Dr. Johnson received a blow from which it never -wholly recovered; though frequent rays of hope intervened from danger -to danger; and though more than a year and a half were still allowed to -his honoured existence upon earth. - -Mr. Seward first brought to Dr. Burney the alarming tidings, that this -great and good man had been afflicted by a paralytic stroke. The -Doctor hastened to Bolt Court, taking with him this Memorialist, who -had frequently and urgently been desired by Dr. Johnson himself, during -the time that they lived so much together at Streatham, to see him -often if he should be ill. But he was surrounded by medical people, and -could only admit the Doctor. He sent down, nevertheless, the kindest -message of thanks to the truly-sorrowing daughter, for calling upon -him; and a request that, “when he should be better, she would come to -him again and again.” - -From Mrs. Williams, with whom she remained, she then received the -comfort of an assurance that the physicians had pronounced him not to -be in danger; and even that they expected the illness would be speedily -overcome. The stroke had been confined to the tongue. - -Mrs. Williams related a very touching circumstance that had attended -the attack. It had happened about four o’clock in the morning, when, -though she knew not how, he had been sensible to the seizure of a -paralytic affection. He arose, and composed, in his mind, a prayer -in Latin to the Almighty, That however acute might be the pains for -which he must befit himself, it would please him, through the grace and -mediation of our Saviour, to spare his intellects, and to let all his -sufferings fall upon his body. - -When he had internally conceived this petition, he endeavoured to -pronounce it, according to his pious practice, aloud—but his voice was -gone!—He was greatly struck, though humbly and resignedly. It was not, -however, long, before it returned; but at first with very imperfect -articulation. - -Dr. Burney, with the zeal of true affection, made time unceasingly -for inquiring visits: and no sooner was the invalid restored to the -power of reinstating himself in his drawing-room, than the Memorialist -received from him a summons, which she obeyed the following morning. - -She was welcomed with the kindest pleasure; though it was with -difficulty that he endeavoured to rise, and to mark, with wide extended -arms, his cordial gladness at her sight; and he was forced to lean back -against the wainscot as impressively he uttered, “Ah!—dearest of all -dear ladies!—” - -He soon, however, recovered more strength, and assumed the force to -conduct her himself, and with no small ceremony, to his best chair. - -“Can you forgive me, Sir,” she cried, when she saw that he had not -breakfasted, “for coming so soon?” - -“I can less forgive your not coming sooner!” he answered, with a smile. - -She asked whether she might make his tea, which she had not done since -they had left poor Streatham; where it had been her constant and -gratifying business to give him that regale, Miss Thrale being yet too -young for the office. - -He readily, and with pleasure consented. - -“But, Sir,” quoth she, “I am in the wrong chair.” For it was on his own -sick large arm chair, which was too heavy for her to move, that he had -formally seated her; and it was away from the table. - -“It is so difficult,” cried he, with quickness, “for any thing to be -wrong that belongs to you, that it can only be I that am in the wrong -chair to keep you from the right one!” - -This playful good-humour was so reviving in shewing his recovery, that -though Dr. Burney could not remain above ten minutes, his daughter, -for whom he sent back his carriage, could with difficulty retire at -the end of two hours. Dr. Johnson endeavoured most earnestly to engage -her to stay and dine with him and Mrs. Williams; but that was not in -her power; though so kindly was his heart opened by her true joy at -his re-establishment, that he parted from her with a reluctance that -was even, and to both, painful. Warm in its affections was the heart -of this great and good man; his temper alone was in fault where it -appeared to be otherwise. - -When his recovery was confirmed, he accepted some few of the many -invitations that were made to him, by various friends, to try at -their dwellings, the air of the country. Dr. Burney mentioned to him, -one evening, that he had heard that the first of these essays was to -be made at the house of Mr. Bowles; and the Memorialist added, that -she was extremely glad of that news, because, though she knew not -Mr. Bowles, she had been informed that he had a true sense of this -distinction, and was delighted by it beyond measure. - -“He is so delighted,” said the Doctor, gravely, and almost with a sigh, -“that it is really—shocking!” - -“And why so, Sir?” - -“Why?” he repeated, “because, necessarily, he must be disappointed! For -if a man be expected to leap twenty yards, and should really leap ten, -which would be so many more than ever were leapt before, still they -would not be twenty; and consequently, Mr. Bowles, and Mr. every body -else would be disappointed.” - - - - -MR. BEWLEY. - - -The grievous blight by the loss of Mrs. Thrale; and the irreparable -blast by the death of Mr. Crisp, in the spring of 1783; followed, in -the ensuing summer, by this alarming shake to the constitution and -strength of Dr. Johnson; were now to be succeeded, in this same unhappy -year, by a fearful and calamitous event, that made the falling leaves -of its autumn corrosively sepulchral to Dr. Burney. - -His erudite, witty, scientific, and truly dear friend, Mr. Bewley of -Massingham, though now in the wane of life, had never visited the -metropolis, except to pass through it upon business; his narrow income, -and confined country practice, having hitherto stood in the way of -such an excursion. Yet he had long desired to make the journey, not -only for seeing the capital, its curiosities, its men of letters, and -his own most highly prized friend, Dr. Burney, but, also, for calling -a consultation amongst the wisest of his brethren of the Æsculapian -tribe, upon the subject of his own health, which was now in a state of -alarming deterioration. - -Continual letters, upon the lighter and pleasanter part of this -project, passed between Massingham and St. Martin’s-street, in -preparatory schemes on one side, and hurrying persuasion on the -other, before it could take place; though it was never-ceasingly -the goal at which the hopes and wishes of Mr. Bewley aimed, when -he permitted them to turn their course from business or science: -but now, suddenly, an occult disease, which for many years had been -preying upon the constitution of the too patient philosopher, began -more roughly to ravage his debilitating frame: and the excess of his -pains, with whatever fortitude they were borne, forced him from his -Stoic endurance, by dismembering it, through bodily torture, from the -palliations of intellectual occupation. - -Irresolution, therefore, was over; and he hastily prepared to quit -his resident village, and consult personally with two surgeons and -two physicians of eminence, Messrs. Hunter and Potts, and Doctors -Warren and John Jebb, with whom he had long been incidentally and -professionally in correspondence. - -There is, probably, no disease, save of that malignantly fatal nature -that joins, at once, the malady with the grave, that may not, for a -while, be parried, or, at least, diverted from its strait-forward -progress, by the indefinable power of those inward impellers of the -human machine, called the animal spirits; for no sooner was the invalid -decided upon this long-delayed journey, than a wish occurred to soften -off its vital solemnity, by rendering it mental and amical, as well -as medicinal: and from this wish emanated a glow of courage, that -enabled him to baffle his infirmities, and to begin his excursion by a -tour to Birmingham; where he had long promised a visit to a renowned -fellow-labourer in the walks of science, Dr. Priestley. And this he -accomplished, though with not more satisfaction than difficulty. - -From the high gratification of this expedition, he proceeded to one -warmer, kindlier, and closer still to his breast, for he came on to -his first favourite upon earth, Dr. Burney; with whom he spent about -a week, under an influence of congenial feelings, and enlivening -pursuits, that charmed away pains that had seemed insupportable, -through the magic control of a delighted imagination, and an expanded -heart. - -His eagerness, from the vigour of his fancy, was yet young, -notwithstanding his years, for every thing that was new to him, and, -of its sort, ingenious. Dr. Burney accompanied him in taking a general -view of the most celebrated literary and scientific institutions, -buildings, and public places; and presented him to the Duke de -Chaulnes, with whom a whole morning was spent in viewing specimens -of Chinese arts and discoveries. And they passed several hours in -examining the extensive paintings of Barry, which that extraordinary -artist elucidated to them himself: while every evening was devoted to -studying and hearing favourite old musical composers of Mr. Bewley; -or favourite new ones of Dr. Burney, now first brought forward to his -friend’s enraptured ears. - -But that which most flattered, and exhilarated the Massingham -philosopher, was an interview accorded to him by Dr. Johnson; to whom -he was presented as the humble, but devoted preserver of the bristly -tuft of the Bolt Court Hearth-Broom. - -He then left St. Martin’s-street, to visit Mr. Griffith, Editor of the -Monthly Review, who received him at Turnham Green. - -Here, from the flitting and stimulating, though willing hurries of -pleasure, he meant to dedicate a short space to repose.——But repose, -here, was to be his no more! The visionary illusions of a fevered -imagination, and the eclât of novelty to all his sensations, were -passed away; and sober, severe reality, with all the acute pangs of -latent, but excruciating disease, resumed, unbridled, their sway. He -grew suddenly altered, and radically worse; and abruptly came back, -thus fatally changed, to St. Martin’s-street; where Dr. Burney, who had -returned to his work at Chesington, was recalled by an express to join -him; and where the long procrastinated consultation at length was held. - -But nor Hunter, nor Potts, nor Warren, nor Jebb could cure, could -even alleviate pains, of which they could not discern the source, -nor ascertain the cause. Nevertheless, from commiseration for his -sufferings, respect to his genius, and admiration of his patience, -they all attended him with as much zeal and assiduity as if they had -grasped at every fee which, generously, they declined: though they had -the mortification to observe that they were applied to so tardily, -and that so desperate was the case, that they seemed hut summoned to -acknowledge it to be beyond their reach, and to prognosticate its -quick-approaching fatality. And, a very short time afterwards, Dr. -Burney had the deep disappointment of finding all his joy at this so -long desired meeting, reversed into the heartfelt affliction of seeing -this valued friend expire under his roof! - -Mrs. Bewley, the excellent wife of this man of science, philosophy, and -virtue, was fortunately, however unhappily, the companion of his tour; -and his constant and affectionate nurse to his last moment. - -It was afterwards known, that his pains, and their incurability, were -produced by an occult and dreadful cancer. - -He was buried in St. Martin’s church. - -The following account of him was written for the Norwich newspaper by -Dr. Burney. - - “_September 15, 1783._ - - “On Friday last died, at the house of his friend, Dr. Burney, - in St. Martin’s-street, where he had been on a visit, Mr. - William Bewley, of Massingham, in Norfolk; whose death will - be sincerely lamented by all men of science, to whom his - great abilities, particularly in anatomy, electricity, and - chemistry, had penetrated through the obscurity of his abode, - and the natural modesty and diffidence of his disposition. - Indeed, the depth and extent of his knowledge on every useful - branch of science and literature, could only be equalled by - the goodness of his heart, simplicity of his character, and - innocency of his life; seasoned with a natural, unsought - wit and humour, of a cast the most original, pleasant, and - inoffensive. - - “Hobbes, in the last century, whose chief writings were - levelled against the religion of his country, was called, from - the place of his residence, the Philosopher of Malmsbury; but - with how much more truth and propriety has Mr. Bewley, whose - life was spent in the laborious search of the most hidden and - useful discoveries in art and nature, in exposing sophistry, - and displaying talents, been distinguished in Norfolk by the - respectable title of the Philosopher of Massingham.”[70] - - - - -HISTORY OF MUSIC. - - -After this harrowing loss, Dr. Burney again returned to melancholy -Chesington; but—still its inmate—to his soothingly reviving Susanna. - -These two admirable and bosom friends, the one of early youth, the -other of early manhood, Mr. - -Crisp and Mr. Bewley, both thus gone; both, in the same year, departed; -Mr. Twining only now, for the union of musical with mental friendship, -remained: but Mr. Twining, though capable to exhilarate as well -as console almost every evil—except his own absence, was utterly -unattainable, save during the few weeks of his short annual visit to -London; or the few days of the Doctor’s yet shorter visits to the -vicarage of Fordham. - -Alone, therefore, and unassisted, except by the slow mode of -correspondence, Dr. Burney prosecuted his work. This labour, -nevertheless, however fatiguing to his nerves, and harassing to his -health, upon missing the triple participation that had lightened his -toil, gradually became, what literary pursuits will ever become to -minds capable of their development, when not clogged by the heavy -weight of recent grief; first a check to morbid sadness, next a -renovator of wearied faculties, and lastly, through their oblivious -influence over all objects foreign to their purposes, a source of -enjoyment. - -To this occupation he owed the re-invigoration of courage that, -ere long, was followed by a return to the native temperature of -tranquillity, that had early and intuitively taught him not to sully -what yet he possessed of happiness, by inconsolably bemoaning what was -withdrawn! and he resolved, in aid at once of his spirits and of his -work, to cultivate more assiduously than ever his connexions with Dr. -Johnson, Mr. Burke, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and Mrs. Delany. - - - - -DR. JOHNSON. - - -When at the end, therefore, of the ensuing autumn, he re-entered Newton -House, his first voluntary egress thence was to Bolt Court; where -he had the heartfelt satisfaction of finding Dr. Johnson recovered -from his paralytic stroke, and not more than usually afflicted by his -other complaints; for free from complaint Dr. Burney had never had the -happiness to know that long and illustrious sufferer; whose pains and -infirmities, however, seemed rather to strengthen than to deaden his -urbanity towards Dr. Burney and this Memorialist. - -It had happened, through vexatious circumstances, after the return from -Chesington, that Dr. Burney, in his visits to Bolt Court, had not been -able to take thither his daughter; nor yet to spare her his carriage -for a separate inquiry; and incessant bad weather had made walking -impracticable. After a week or two of this omission, Dr. Johnson, in a -letter to Dr. Burney, enclosed the following billet. - - “TO MISS BURNEY. - - “Madam, - -“You have now been at home this long time, and yet I have neither seen -nor heard from you. Have we quarrelled? - -“I have met with a volume of the Philosophical Transactions, which I -imagine to belong to Dr. Burney. Miss Charlotte[71] will please to -examine. - -“Pray send me a direction where Mrs. Chapone lives; and pray, some -time, let me have the honour of telling you how much I am, Madam, your -most humble servant, - - “SAM. JOHNSON.” - - “_Bolt Court, Nov. 19, 1783._” - -Inexpressibly shocked to have hurt or displeased her honoured friend, -yet conscious from all within of unalterable and affectionate reverence, -she took courage to answer him without offering any serious defence. - - “TO DR. JOHNSON. - - “Dear Sir, - -“May I not say dear?—for quarrelled I am sure we have not. The bad -weather alone has kept me from waiting upon you: but now, that you have -condescended to give me a summons, no ‘Lion shall stand in the way’ of -my making your tea this afternoon—unless I receive a prohibition from -yourself, and then—I must submit! for what, as you said of a certain -great lady,[72] signifies the barking of a lap-dog, if once the lion -puts out his paw? - -“The book was right. - -“Mrs. Chapone lives in Dean-street, Soho. - -“I beg you, Sir, to forgive a delay for which I can ‘tax the elements -only with unkindness,’ and to receive with your usual goodness and -indulgence, - - “Your ever most obliged, - - “And most faithful humble servant, - “F. BURNEY.” - - “_19th Nov. 1783, St. Martin’s-Street._” - -A latent, but most potent reason, had, in fact, some share in abetting -the elements in the failure of the Memorialist of paying her respects -in Bolt Court at this period; except when attending thither her father. -Dr. Burney feared her seeing Dr. Johnson alone; dreading, for both their -sakes, the subject to which the Doctor might revert, if they should -chance to be _tête à tête_. Hitherto, in the many meetings of the two -Doctors and herself that had taken place after the paralytic stroke -of Dr. Johnson, as well as during the many that had more immediately -followed the retreat of Mrs. Thrale to Bath, the name of that lady had -never once been mentioned by any of the three. - -Not from difference of opinion was the silence; it was rather from -a painful certainty that their opinions must be in unison, and, -consequently, that in unison must be their regrets. Each of them, -therefore, having so warmly esteemed one whom each of them, now, so -afflictingly blamed, they tacitly concurred that, for the immediate -moment, to cast a veil over her name, actions, and remembrance, seemed -what was most respectful to their past feelings, and to her present -situation. - -But, after the impressive reproach of Dr. Johnson to the Memorialist -relative to her absence; and after a seizure which caused a constant -anxiety for his health, she could no longer consult her discretion -at the expense of her regard; and, upon ceasing to observe her -precautions, she was unavoidably left with him, one morning, by Dr. -Burney, who had indispensable business further on in the city, and was -to call for her on his return. - -Nothing yet had publicly transpired, with certainty or authority, -relative to the projects of Mrs. Thrale, who had now been nearly a -year at Bath; though nothing was left unreported, or unasserted, with -respect to her proceedings. Nevertheless, how far Dr. Johnson was -himself informed, or was ignorant on the subject, neither Dr. Burney -nor his daughter could tell; and each equally feared to learn. - -Scarcely an instant, however, was the latter left alone in Bolt Court, -ere she saw the justice of her long apprehensions; for while she -planned speaking upon some topic that might have a chance to catch the -attention of the Doctor, a sudden change from kind tranquillity to -strong austerity took place in his altered countenance; and, startled -and affrighted, she held her peace. - -A silence almost awful succeeded, though, previously to Dr. Burney’s -absence, the gayest discourse had been reciprocated. - -The Doctor, then, see-sawing violently in his chair, as usual when -he was big with any powerful emotion whether of pleasure or of pain, -seemed deeply moved; but without looking at her, or speaking, he -intently fixed his eyes upon the fire: while his panic-struck visitor, -filled with dismay at the storm which she saw gathering; over the -character and conduct of one still dear to her very heart, from the -furrowed front, the laborious heaving of the ponderous chest, and the -roll of the large, penetrating, wrathful eye of her honoured, but, -just then, terrific host, sate mute, motionless, and sad; tremblingly -awaiting a mentally demolishing thunderbolt. - -Thus passed a few minutes, in which she scarcely dared breathe; while -the respiration of the Doctor, on the contrary, was of asthmatic force -and loudness; then, suddenly turning to her, with an air of mingled -wrath and woe, he hoarsely ejaculated: “Piozzi!” - -He evidently meant to say more; but the effort with which he -articulated that name robbed him of any voice for amplification, and -his whole frame grew tremulously convulsed. - -His guest, appalled, could not speak; but he soon discerned that it was -grief from coincidence, not distrust from opposition of sentiment, that -caused her taciturnity. - -This perception calmed him, and he then exhibited a face “in sorrow -more than anger.” His see-sawing abated of its velocity, and, again -fixing his looks upon the fire, he fell into pensive rumination. - -From time to time, nevertheless, he impressively glanced upon her his -full fraught eye, that told, had its expression been developed, whole -volumes of his regret, his disappointment, his astonished indignancy: -but, now and then, it also spoke so clearly and so kindly, that he -found her sight and her stay soothing to his disturbance, that she felt -as if confidentially communing with him, although they exchanged not a -word. - -At length, and with great agitation, he broke forthwith: “She cares -for no one! You, only—You, she loves still!—but no one—and nothing -else!—You she still loves—” - -A half smile now, though of no very gay character, softened a -little the severity of his features, while he tried to resume some -cheerfulness in adding: “As .... she loves her little finger!” - -It was plain by this burlesque, or, perhaps, playfully literal -comparison, that he meant now, and tried, to dissipate the solemnity of -his concern. - -The hint was taken; his guest started another subject; and this he -resumed no more. He saw how distressing was the theme to a hearer whom -he ever wished to please, not distress; and he named Mrs. Thrale no -more! Common topics took place, till they were rejoined by Dr. Burney, -whom then, and indeed always, he likewise spared upon this subject. - - * * * * * - -Very ill again Dr. Johnson grew on the approach of winter; and with -equal fear and affection, both father and daughter sought him as often -as it was in their power; though by no means as frequently as their -zealous attachment, or as his own kind wishes might have prompted. -But fullness of affairs, and the distance of his dwelling, impeded -such continual intercourse as their mutual regard would otherwise have -instigated. - -This new failure of health was accompanied by a sorrowing depression of -spirits; though unmixt with the smallest deterioration of intellect. - -One evening,—the last but one of the sad year 1783,—when Dr. Burney -and the Memorialist were with him, and some other not remembered -visitors, he took an opportunity during a general discourse in which -he did not join, to turn suddenly to the ever-favoured daughter, and, -fervently grasping her hand, to say: “The blister I have tried for -my breath has betrayed some very bad tokens!—but I will not terrify -myself by talking of them.—Ah!—_priez Dieu pour moi!_” - -Her promise was as solemn as it was sorrowful; but more humble, if -possible, than either. That such a man should condescend to make her -such a request, amazed, and almost bewildered her: yet, to a mind so -devout as that of Dr. Johnson, prayer, even from the most lowly, never -seemed presumptuous; and even—where he believed in its sincerity, -soothed him—for a passing moment—with an idea that it might be -propitious. - -This was the only instance in which Dr. Johnson ever addressed her in -French. He did not wish so serious an injunction to reach other ears -than her own. - -But those who imagine that the fear of death, which, at this period, -was the prominent feature of the mind of Dr. Johnson; and which excited -not more commiseration than wonder in the observers and commentators -of the day; was the effect of conscious criminality; or produced by a -latent belief that he had sinned more than his fellow sinners, knew -not Dr. Johnson! He thought not ill of himself as compared with his -human brethren: but he weighed, in the rigid scales of his calculating -justice, the great talent which he had received, against the uses of -it which he had made — — - -And found himself wanting! - -Could it be otherwise, to one who had a conscience poignantly alive -to a sense of duty, and religiously submissive to the awards of -retributive responsibility? - -If those, therefore, who ignorantly have marvelled, or who maliciously -would triumph at the terror of death in the pious, would sincerely -and severely bow down to a similar self-examination, the marvel -would subside, and the triumph might perhaps turn to blushes! in -considering—not the trembling inferiority, but the sublime humility of -this ablest and most dauntless of Men, but humblest and most orthodox -of Christians. - - - - -SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. - - -While thus with Dr. Johnson, the most reverenced of Dr. Burney’s -connexions, all intercourse was shaken in gaiety and happiness, with -Sir Joshua Reynolds, save from grief for Dr. Johnson, gaiety and -happiness still seemed almost stationary. - -Sir Joshua Reynolds had a suavity of disposition that set every -body at their ease in his society; though neither that, nor what Dr. -Johnson called his “_inoffensiveness_,” bore the character of a tame -insipidity that never differed from a neighbour; or that knew not how -to support an opposing opinion with firmness and independence. On the -contrary, Sir Joshua was even peculiar in thinking for himself: and -frequently, after a silent rumination, to which he was unavoidably -led by not following up, from his deafness, the various stages of any -given question, he would surprise the whole company by starting some -new and unexpected idea on the subject in discussion, in a manner so -imaginative and so original, that it either drew the attention of the -interlocutors into a quite different mode of argument to that with -which they had set out; or it incited them to come forth, in battle -array, against the novelty of his assertions. In the first case, he was -frankly gratified, but never moved to triumph; in the second, he met -the opposition with candour; but was never brow-beaten from defending -his cause with courage, even by the most eminent antagonist. - -Both father and daughter shared his favour alike; and both returned it -with an always augmenting attachment. - - - - -MRS. DELANY. - - -The setting, but with glory setting, sun of Mrs. Delany, was -still glowing with all the warmth of generous friendship, all the -capabilities of mental exertion, and all the ingenuous readiness for -enjoyment of innocent pleasure,—or nearly all—that had irradiated its -brilliant rise. - -She was venerated by Dr. Burney, whom most sincerely, in return, she -admired, esteemed, and liked. She has left, indeed, a lasting proof of -her kind disposition to him in her narrative of Anastasia Robinson, -Countess of Peterborough; which, at the request of Dr. Burney, she -dictated, in her eighty-seventh year, to her much-attached and faithful -amanuensis, Anna Astley; and which the Doctor has printed in the fourth -volume of his History. - -Mrs. Delany had known and loved Anastasia Robinson while she was a -public concert and opera singer. The uncommon musical talents of that -songstress were seconded by such faultless and sweet manners, and a -life so irreproachable, that she was received by ladies of the first -rank and character upon terms nearly of equality; though so modest -was her demeanour, that the born distance between them was never by -herself forgotten. She was peculiarly a favourite with the bosom friend -of Mrs. Delany, the Duchess of Portland, whose mother, the Countess of -Oxford, had been the first patroness of Anastasia, and had consented -to be present, as a witness, as well as a support, at the private and -concealed marriage of that syren of her day with the famous and martial -Earl of Peterborough. - -A narrative such as this, and so well authenticated, could not but -cause great satisfaction to Dr. Burney, in holding to view such -splendid success to the power of harmony, when accompanied by virtue. - -This increase of intercourse with Mrs. Delany, was a source of gentle -pleasure in perfect concord with the Doctor’s present turn of mind; -and trebly welcome on account of his daughter, to whose poignant grief -for the loss of Mr. Crisp it was a solace the most seasonable. Her -description of its soothing effect, which is gratefully recorded in her -diary to her sister at Boulogne, may here, perhaps, not unacceptably be -copied for the reader, as a further picture of this venerable widow of -one of the most favourite friends of Dean Swift. - -“_July 18, 1783._—I called again, my dear Susan, upon the sweet Mrs. -Delany, whom every time I see I feel myself to love even more than I -admire. And how dear, how consolatory is it to me to be honoured with -so much of her favour, as to find her always eager, upon every meeting, -to fix a time for another and another visit! How truly desirable -are added years, where the spirit of life evaporates not before its -extinction! She is as generously awake to the interests of those she -loves, as if her own life still claimed their responsive sympathies. -There is something in her quite angelic. I feel no cares when with -her. I think myself with the true image and representative of our so -loved maternal Grandmother, in whose presence not only all committal -of evil, even in thought, was impossible, but its sufferance, also, -seemed immaterial, from the higher views that the very air she breathed -imparted. This composure, and these thoughts, are not for lasting -endurance! Yet it is salubrious to feel them even for a few hours. I -wish my Susan knew her. I would not give up my knowledge of her for -the universe. I spend with her all the time I have at my own disposal; -and nothing has so sensibly calmed my mind, since our fatal Chesington -deprivation, as her society. The religious turn which kindness, -united to wisdom, in old age, gives, involuntarily, to all commerce -with it, beguiles us out of anxiety and misery a thousand times more -successfully than all the forced exertions of gaiety from dissipation.” - -If such was the benefit reaped by the daughter from this animated and -very uncommon friendship, the great age of one of the parties at its -formation considered, who can wonder at the glad as well as proud -encouragement which it met with from Dr. Burney? - - - - -MR. BURKE. - - -But the cordial the most potent to the feelings and the spirits of -the Doctor, in this hard-trying year, was the exhilarating partiality -displayed towards him by Mr. Burke; and which was doubly soothing by -warmly and constantly including the Memorialist in its urbanity. From -the time of the party at Sir Joshua Reynolds’ upon Richmond Hill, their -intercourse had gone on with increase of regard. They met, and not -unfrequently, at various places; but chiefly at Sir Joshua Reynolds’, -Miss Moncton’s, and Mrs. Vesey’s. Mr. Burke delighted in society as -much as of society he was the supreme delight: and perhaps to this -social disposition he owed that part of his oratorical excellence that -made it so entertainingly varying, and so frequently interspersed with -penetrating reflections on human life. - -But to the political circle to which Mr. Burke and his powers were -principally devoted, Dr. Burney was, accidentally, a stranger. -Accidentally may be said, for it was by no means deliberately, as he -was not of any public station or rank that demanded any restrictions to -his mental connexions. He was excursive, therefore, in his intercourse, -though fixed in his principles. - -But besides the three places above named, Mr. Burke himself, from the -period of the assembly at Miss Moncton’s, had the grace and amiability -to drop in occasionally, uninvited and unexpectedly, to the little -tea-table of St. Martin’s-street; where his bright welcome from the -enchanted Memorialist, for whom he constantly inquired when the Doctor -was abroad, repaid him—in some measure, perhaps—for almost always -missing the chief of whom he came in search. - -The Doctor, also, when he had half an hour to spare, took the new -votary of Mr. Burke to visit him and his pleasing wife, at their -apartments at the Treasury, where now was their official residence. And -here they saw, with wonder and admiration, amidst the whirl of politics -and the perplexities of ministerial arrangements, in which Mr. Burke, -then in the administration, was incessantly involved, how cheerfully, -how agreeably, how vivaciously, he could still be the most winning of -domestic men, the kindest of husbands, the fondest of fathers, and the -most delightful of friends. - -During one of these visits to the Treasury, Mr. Burke presented to Miss -Palmer a beautiful inkstand, with a joined portfolio, upon some new -construction, and finished up with various contrivances, equally useful -and embellishing. Miss Palmer accepted it with great pleasure, but not -without many conscious glances towards the Memorialist, which, at last, -broke out into an exclamation: “I am ashamed to take it, Mr. Burke! how -much more Miss Burney deserves a writing present!” - -“Miss Burney?” repeated he, with energy; “Fine writing tackle for Miss -Burney? No, no; she can bestow value on the most ordinary. A morsel of -white tea-paper, and a little blacking from her friend Mr. Briggs, in -a broken gallipot, would be converted by Miss Burney into more worth -than all the stationery of all the Treasury.” - -This gay and ingenious turn, which made the compliment as gratifying to -one, as the present could be to the other, raised a smile of general -archness at its address in the company; and of comprehensive delight in -Dr. Burney. - -The year 1783 was now on its wane; so was the administration in which -Mr. Burke was a minister; when one day, after a dinner at Sir Joshua -Reynolds’, Mr. Burke drew Dr. Burney aside, and, with great delicacy, -and feeling his way, by the most investigating looks, as he proceeded, -said that the organist’s place at Chelsea College was then vacant: that -it was but twenty pounds a year, but that, to a man of Dr. Burney’s -eminence, if it should be worth acceptance, it might be raised to -fifty. He then lamented that, during the short time in which he had -been Paymaster General, nothing better, and, indeed, nothing else had -occurred more worthy of offering. - -Trifling as this was in a pecuniary light, and certainly far beneath -the age or the rank in his profession of Dr. Burney, to possess any -thing through the influence, or rather the friendship of Mr. Burke, -had a charm irresistible. The Doctor wished, also, for some retreat -from, yet near London; and he had reason to hope for apartments, ere -long, in the capacious Chelsea College. He therefore warmly returned -his acknowledgments for the proposal, to which he frankly acceded. - -And two days after, just as the news was published of a total change of -administration, Dr. Burney received from Mr. Burke the following notice -of his vigilant kindness:— - - “TO DR. BURNEY. - - “I had yesterday the pleasure of voting you, my dear Sir, - a salary of fifty pounds a year, as organist to Chelsea - Hospital. But as every increase of salary made at our Board is - subject to the approbation of the Lords of the Treasury, what - effect the change now made may have I know not;—but I do not - think any Treasury will rescind it. - - “This was _pour faire la bonne bouche_ at parting with office; - and I am only sorry that it did not fall in my way to shew you - a more substantial mark of my high respect for you and Miss - Burney. - - “I have the honour to be, &c. “EDM. BURKE.” - - “_Horse Guards, Dec. 9, 1783._” - - “I really could not do this business at a more early period, - else it would have been done infallibly.” - -The pleasure of Dr. Burney at this event was sensibly dampt when -he found that _la bonne bouche_ so kindly made for himself, and so -flatteringly uniting his daughter in its intentions, was unallied to -any species of remuneration, or even of consideration, to Mr. Burke -himself, for all his own long willing services, his patriotic exertions -for the general good, and his noble, even where erroneous, efforts to -stimulate public virtue. - -A short time afterwards, Mr. Burke called himself in St. -Martin’s-street, and,—for the Doctor, as usual, was not at home,—Mr. -Burke, as usual, had the condescension to inquire for this Memorialist; -whom he found alone. - -He entered the room with that penetrating look, yet open air, that -marked his demeanour where his object in giving was, also, to receive -pleasure; and in uttering apologies of as much elegance for breaking -into her time, as if he could possibly be ignorant of the honour he did -her; or blind to the delight with which it was felt. - -He was anxious, he said, to make known in person that the business of -the Chelsea Organ was finally settled at the Treasury. - -Difficult would it be, from the charm of his manner as well as of -his words, to decide whether he conveyed this communication with most -friendliness or most politeness: but, having delivered for Dr. Burney -all that officially belonged to the business, he thoughtfully, a -moment, paused; and then impressively said: “This is my last act of -office!” - -He pronounced these words with a look that almost affectionately -displayed his satisfaction that it should so be bestowed; and with such -manly self-command of cheerfulness in the midst of frankly undisguised -regret that all his official functions were over, that his hearer was -sensibly, though silently touched, by such distinguishing partiality. -Her looks, however, she hopes, were not so mute as her voice, for -those of Mr. Burke seemed responsively to accept their gratitude. He -reiterated, then, his kind messages to the Doctor, and took leave. - - - - -1784. - - -The reviving ray of pleasure that gleamed from the kindness of Mr. -Burke at the close of the fatal year 1783, still spread its genial -warmth over Dr. Burney at the beginning of 1784, by brightening a hope -of recovery for Dr. Johnson; a hope which, though frequently dimmed, -cast forth, from time to time, a transitory lustre nearly to this -year’s conclusion. - - - - -DR. JOHNSON’S CLUB. - - -Dr. Burney now was become a member of the Literary Club; in which he -found an association so select, yet so various, that there were few -things, either of business or pleasure, that he ever permitted to -interfere with his attendance. Where, indeed, could taste point out, -or genius furnish, a society to meet his wishes, if that could fail -which had the decided national superiority of Johnson and Burke at its -head? while Banks, Beauclerk, Boswell, Colman, Courtney, Eliot (Earl,) -Fox, Gibbon, Hamilton (Sir William,) Hinchcliffe, Jones, Macartney -(Earl,) Malone, Percy, Reynolds, Scott (Lord Sewel,) Sheridan, Spencer -(Earl,) Windham, and many others of high and acknowledged abilities, -successively entering, marked this assemblage as the pride—not of this -meeting alone, but of the Classical British Empire of the day. - -It had been the original intention of Dr. Johnson, when this club, -of which the idea was conceived by Sir Joshua Reynolds, was in -contemplation, to elect amongst its members some one of noted -reputation in every art, science, and profession; to the end that solid -information might elucidate every subject that should be started. This -profound suggestion, nevertheless, was either passed over, or overruled. - -It is probable that those, so much the larger portion of mankind, who -love light and desultory discourse, were persuaded they should find -more amusement in wandering about the wilds of fanciful conjecture, -than in submitting to be disciplined by the barriers of systemized -conviction. - -Brightly forward at this club came Mr. Windham, of Felbrig, amongst -those whose penetration had long since preceded the public voice in -ranking Dr. Burney as a distinguished Man of Letters. And from the date -of these meetings, their early esteem was augmented into partial, yet -steady regard. - -Mr. Windham was a true and first rate gentleman; polite, cultivated, -learned, upright, and noble-minded. To an imagination the most ardent -for whatever could issue from native genius in others, he joined a -charm of manner that gave an interest to whatever he uttered himself; -no matter how light, how slight, how unimportant; that invested it -with weight and pleasure to his auditor: while in his smile there -was a gentleness that singularly qualified an almost fiery animation -in his words. To speak, however, of his instantaneous powers of -pleasing,—though it be conferring on him one of the least common of -Nature’s gifts, as well as one of the fairest,—is insufficient to -characterize the peculiar charm of his address; for it was not simply -the power of pleasing that he possessed—it was rather that of winning. - - - - -HANDEL’S COMMEMORATION. - - -In the ensuing spring and summer, a new and brilliant professional -occupation fell, fortunately, to the task of Dr. Burney, drawing -him from his cares, and beguiling him from his sorrows, by notes of -sweetest melody, and combinations of the most intricate, yet sound -harmony; for this year, which completed a century from the birth of -Handel, was allotted for a public Commemoration of that great musician -and his works. - -Dr. Burney, justly proud of the honour paid to the chief of that art -of which he was a professor, was soon, and instinctively wound up to -his native spirits, by the exertions which were called forth in aid -of this noble enterprise. He suggested fresh ideas to the Conductors; -he was consulted by all the Directors; and his advice and experience -enlightened every member of the business in whatever walk he moved. - -Not content, however, to be merely a counsellor to a celebration -of such eclât in his own career, he resolved upon becoming the -Historian of the transaction; and upon devoting to it his best labours -gratuitously, by presenting them to the fund for the benefit of decayed -musicians and their families. - -This offer, accordingly, he made to the honourable Directors; by whom -it was accepted with pleasure and gratitude. - -He now delegated all his powers to the furtherance of this grand -scheme; and drew up a narrative of the festival, with so much delight -in recording the disinterestedness of its voluntary performers; its -services to the superannuated or helpless old labourers of his caste; -and the splendid success of the undertaking; that his history of the -performances in Commemoration of Handel, presents a picture so vivid -of that superb entertainment, that those who still live to remember -it, must seem to witness its stupendous effects anew: and those of -later days, who can know of it but by tradition, must bewail their -little chance of ever personally hearing such magnificent harmony; -or beholding a scene so glorious of royal magnificence and national -enthusiasm. - -Dr. Johnson was wont to say, with a candour that, though admirable, was -irresistibly comic, “I always talk my best!” and, with equal singleness -of truth it might be said of Dr. Burney, that, undertake what he would, -he always did his best. - -In writing, therefore, this account, he conceived he should make it -more interesting by preceding it with the Memoirs of Handel. And for -this purpose, he applied to all his German correspondents, to acquire -materials concerning the early life of his hero; and to all to whom -Handel had been known, either personally or traditionally, in England -and Ireland, for anecdotes of his character and conduct in the British -empire. Mrs. Delany here, and by the desire of the King himself, -supplied sundry particulars; her brother, Mr. Granville, having been -one of the patrons of this immortal composer. - -And next, to render the work useful, he inserted a statement of the -cash received in consequence of the five musical performances, with the -disbursement of the sums to their charitable purposes; and an abstract -of the general laws and resolutions of the fund for the support of -decayed musicians and their families. - -And lastly, he embellished it with several plates, representing Handel, -or in honour of Handel; and with two views, from original designs,[73] -of the interior of Westminster Abbey during the Commemoration: the -first representing the galleries prepared for the reception of their -Majesties, of the Royal Family, of the Directors, Archbishops, Bishops, -Dean and Chapter of Westminster, heads of the law, &c. &c. - -The second view displaying the orchestra and performers, in the costume -of the day. - -Not small in the scales of justice must be reckoned this gift of the -biographical and professional talents of Dr. Burney to the musical fund. -A man who held his elevation in his class of life wholly from himself; -a father of eight children, who all looked up to him as their prop; a -professor who, at fifty-eight years of age, laboured at his calling with -the indefatigable diligence of youth; and who had no time, even for his -promised History, but what he spared from his repasts or his repose; to -make any offering, gratuitously, of a work which, though it might have -no chance of sale when its eclât of novelty was passed, must yet, while -that short eclât shone forth, have a sale of high emolument; manifested, -perhaps, as generous a spirit of charity, and as ardent a love of the -lyre, as could well, by a person in so private a line of life, be -exhibited. - -Dr. Burney was, of course, so entirely at home on a subject such as -this, that he could only have to wait the arrival of his foreign -materials to go to work; and only begin working to be in sight of his -book’s completion: but the business of the plates could not be executed -quite so rapidly; on the contrary, though the composition was finished -in a few weeks, it was not till the following year that the engravings -were ready for publication. - -This was a laxity of progress that by no means kept pace with the -eagerness of the Directors, or the expectations of the public: and -the former frequently made known their disappointment through the -channel of the Earl of Sandwich; who, at the same time, entered into -correspondence with the Doctor, relative to future anniversary concerts -upon a similar plan, though upon a considerably lessened scale to that -which had been adopted for the Commemoration. - -The inconveniences, however, of this new labour, though by no means -trifling, because absorbing all the literary time of the Doctor, -to the great loss and procrastination of his musical history, had -compensations, that would have mitigated much superior evil. - -The King himself deigned to make frequent inquiry into the state of the -business; and when his Majesty knew that the publication was retarded -only by the engravers, he desired to see the loose and unbound sheets -of the work, which he perused with so strong an interest in their -contents, that he drew up two critical notes upon them, with so much -perspicuity and justness, that Dr. Burney, unwilling to lose their -purport, yet not daring to presume to insert them with the King’s name -in any appendix, cancelled the two sheets to which they had reference, -and embodied their meaning in his own text. At this he was certain the -King could not be displeased, as it was with his Majesty’s consent that -they had been communicated to the doctor, by Mr. Nicolai, a page of the -Queen’s. - -Now, however, there seems to be no possible objection to giving to the -public these two notes from the original royal text, as the unassuming -tone of their advice cannot but afford a pleasing reminiscence to -those by whom that benevolent monarch was known; while to those who -are too young to recollect him, they may still be a matter of laudable -curiosity. And they will obviate, also, any ignorant imputation of -flattery, in the praise which is inserted in the dedication of the Work -to the King; and which will be subjoined to these original notes. - - -_From the hand-writing of his Majesty George III._ - -“It seems but just, as well as natural, in mentioning the 4th Hautbois -Concerto, on the 4th day’s performance of Handel’s Commemoration, to -take notice of the exquisite taste and propriety Mr. Fischer exhibited -in the solo parts; which must convince his hearers that his excellence -does not exist alone in performing his own composition; and that his -tone perfectly filled the stupendous building where this excellent -concerto was performed.” - - -_From the same._ - -“The performance of the Messiah. - -“Dr. Burney seems to forget the great merit of the choral fugue, ‘He -trusteth in God,’ by asserting that the words would admit of no stroke -of passion. Now the real truth is, that the words contain a manifest -presumption and impertinence, which Handel has, in the most masterly -manner, taken advantage of. And he was so conscious of the moral merit -of that movement, that, whenever he was desired to sit down to the -harpsichord, if not instantly inclined to play, he used to take this -subject; which ever set his imagination at work, and made him produce -wonderful capriccios.” - - -_From Dr. Burney’s Dedication._ - -“That pleasure in music should be complete, science and nature -must assist each other. A quick sensibility of melody and harmony -is not often originally bestowed; and those who are born with this -susceptibility of modulated sounds are often ignorant of its -principles, and must, therefore, in a great degree be delighted by -chance. But when your Majesty is present, the artists may congratulate -themselves upon the attention of a judge, in whom all requisites -concur, who hears them not merely with instinctive emotion, but with -rational approbation; and whose praise of Handel is not the effusion of -credulity, but the emanation of science.” - - * * * * * - -With feelings the most poignant, and a pen the most reluctant, the -Memorialist must now relate an event which gave peculiar and lasting -concern to Dr. Burney; and which, though long foreseen, had lost -nothing, either from expectation or by preparation, of its inherent -unfitness. - - - - -MRS. THRALE. - - -About the middle of this year, Mrs. Thrale put an end to the alternate -hopes and fears of her family and friends, and to her own torturing -conflicts, by a change of name that, for the rest of her life, produced -nearly a change of existence. - -Her station in society, her fortune, her distinguished education, -and her conscious sense of its distinction; and yet more, her high -origin[74]—a native honour, which had always seemed the glory of her -self-appreciation; all had contributed to lift her so eminently above -the witlessly impetuous tribe, who immolate fame, interest, and duty -to the shrine of passion, that the outcry of surprise and censure -raised throughout the metropolis by these unexpected nuptials, was -almost stunning in its jarring noise of general reprobation; resounding -through madrigals, parodies, declamation, epigrams, and irony. - -And yet more deeply wounding was the concentrated silence of those -faithful friends who, at the period of her bright display of talents, -virtues, and hospitality, had attached themselves to her person with -sincerity and affection. - -Dr. Johnson excepted, none amongst the latter were more painfully -impressed than Dr. Burney; for none with more true grief had foreseen -the mischief in its menace, or dreaded its deteriorating effect on her -maternal devoirs. Nevertheless, conscious that if he had no weight, -he had also no right over her actions, he hardened not his heart, -when called upon by an appeal, from her own hand, to give her his -congratulations; but, the deed once irreversible, civilly addressed -himself to both parties at once, with all of conciliatory kindness in -good wishes and regard, that did least violence to his sentiments and -principles. - -Far harder was the task of his daughter, on receiving from the -new bride a still more ardent appeal, written at the very instant -of quitting the altar: she had been trusted while the conflict -still endured; and her opinions and feelings had unreservedly been -acknowledged in all their grief of opposition: and their avowal had -been borne, nay, almost bowed down to, with a liberality of mind, a -softness of affection, a nearly angelic sweetness of temper, that won -more fondly than ever the heart that they rived with pitying anguish,— -—till the very epoch of the second marriage. - -Yet, strange to tell! all this contest of opinion, and dissonance -of feeling, seemed, at the altar, to be suddenly, but in totality -forgotten! and the bride wrote to demand not alone kind wishes for her -peace and welfare—those she had no possibility of doubting—but joy, -wishing joy; but cordial felicitations upon her marriage! - -These, and so abruptly, to have accorded, must, even in their pleader’s -eyes, have had the semblance, and more than the semblance, of the most -glaring hypocrisy. - -A compliance of such inconsistency—such falsehood—the Memorialist -could not bestow; her answer, therefore, written in deep distress, and -with regrets unspeakable, was necessarily disappointing; disappointment -is inevitably chilling; and, after a painful letter or two, involving -mistake and misapprehension, the correspondence—though not on the side -of the Memorialist—abruptly dropt. - -The minuter circumstances of this grievous catastrophe to a connexion -begun with the most brilliant delight, and broken up with the acutest -sorrow, might seem superfluous in the Memoirs of Dr. Burney: yet, -in speaking of him Biographically, in his Fatherly capacity, it is -necessarily alluded to, for the purpose of stating that the conduct -of his daughter, throughout the whole of this afflicting and complex -transaction, from the time he was acquainted with its difficulties, had -his uniform, nay, warmest sanction. - -And not more complete in concurrence upon this subject were their -opinions than was their unhappiness; and the Doctor always waited, and -his daughter always panted, for any opportunity that might re-open -so dear a friendship, without warring against their principles, or -disturbing their reverence for truth. - - - - -THE LOCKES. - -Fortunately, and most seasonably, just about the time that these -extraordinary nuptials were in agitating approach, an intercourse the -most benign was opened between the family of Dr. Burney and that of Mr. -Locke, of Norbury Park. - -The value of such an intercourse was warmly appreciated by Dr. Burney, -to whose taste it was sympathy, and to whose feelings it was animation: -while the period at which it took place, that of a blight the most -baneful to himself and his second daughter, gave to it a character of -salubrity as restorative to their nerves as it was soothing to their -hearts. - -What, indeed, of blight, of baleful, could adhere to, could commix -with the Lockes of Norbury Park? All that could be devised, rather -than described, of virtue with hilarity, of imagination with wisdom, -appeared there to make their stand. A mansion of classical elegance; -a situation bright, varied, bewitching in picturesque attraction; a -chief in whom every high quality under heaven seemed concentrated; -a partner to that chief uniting the closest mental resemblance -to the embellishment of the most captivating beauty; a progeny -blithe, blooming, and intelligent, encircling them like grouping -angels—exhibited, all together, a picture of happiness so sanctified -by virtue; of talents so ennobled by character; of religion so always -manifested by good works; that Norbury Park presented a scene of -perfection that seemed passing reality! and even while viewed and -enjoyed, to wear the air of a living vision of ideal felicity. - -The first visit that Dr. Burney paid to this incomparable spot was in -company with Sir Joshua Reynolds. - -No place would be more worthy the painter’s eye, and painter’s mind -of the knight of Plympton than this; and he entered into all the -merits of the mansion, its dwellers, and its scenery, with a vivacity -of approvance, as gratifying to his elegant host and hostess, as to -himself were the objects of taste, fancy, and fine workmanship, with -which he was encircled in that school, or assemblage of the fine arts, -which seemed in Mr. Locke to exhibit a living Apollo at their head: -while the delicacy, the feeling, the witching softness of his fair -partner, expanded a genial cheerfulness that seemed to bloom around her -wherever she looked or moved. - -The conversation of Mr. Locke was a source inexhaustible of -instruction, conveyed in language at once so sensitive and so pointed; -with a tone, a manner, a look so impressively in harmony with every -word that he uttered; that observations of a depth and a novelty -that seemed to demand the most lengthened discussion, obtained -immediate comprehension, if his hearer examined the penetration of his -countenance while he listened to that of his voice. - -His taste, alike in works of nature and of art, was profound in itself -and illuminating to others: yet, from his habitual silence in mixt -companies, the most strikingly amiable parts of his character could be -developed only on his own domain, amidst his family, his friends, his -neighbours, and the poor: where the refinement of his converse, and the -melting humanity of his disposition, reflected genial lustre on each -other.[75] - -Here, too, the knight of Plympton made a leisurely survey of the -extraordinary early sketches of the eldest son of the mansion’s Apollo; -who, for boundless invention, exquisite taste, and masterly sketches -of original execution, was gifted with a genius that mocked all -contemporary rivalry.[76] - -Dr. Burney himself, at home in all the arts, partook of this -entertainment with his usual animated pleasure in excellence; while in -all that accompanied it of literary or social description, he as often -led as followed these distinguished conversers. - - * * * * * - -But the exhilaration of this almost heavenly sojourn—for such, to its -guests, it had appeared—was succeeded by an alarm to the heart of Dr. -Burney the most intense, perhaps, by which it could be attacked; an -alarm deeply affecting his comforts, his wishes, and the happiness of -his whole house, from a menace of consumption to his daughter Susanna, -which demanded a rapid change of air, and forced a hasty and immediate -trial of that of Boulogne sur Mer. - -The motive, however, of the little voyage, with its hope, made Dr. -Burney submit to it with his accustomed rational resignation; though -severe, nearly lacerating, was every separation from that beloved -child; and though suspense and fear hovered over him unremittingly -during the whole of the ensuing winter. - -Doubly, therefore, now, was felt the acquisition of the Lockes, the -charm of whose intercourse was endowed with powers the most balsamic -for alleviating, though it could not heal, the pain of this fearful -wound, through their sympathizing knowledge of the virtues of the -invalid; their appreciation of her sweetness of disposition, their -taste for her society, their enjoyment of her talents, and their -admiration of her conduct and character; of her patience in suffering, -her fortitude in adversity; her mild submission to every inevitable -evil, with her noble struggles against every calamity that firmness, -vigour, or toil, might prevent, or might distance. They loved her as -she merited to be loved! and almost as she loved them in return; for -their souls were in unison of excellence. - - - - -MRS. DELANY. - - -But while the Lockes thus afforded a gentle and genial aid towards -sustaining the illness and absence of Mrs. Phillips, it was not by -superseding, but by blending in sweet harmony with the support afforded -by Mrs. Delany: and if the narration given of that lady has, in any -degree, drawn the reader to join in the admiration with which she -inspired Dr. Burney, he will not be sorry to see a further account of -her, taken again from the Diary addressed to Mrs. Phillips. - - “TO MRS. PHILLIPS. - -“I have just passed a delicious day, my Susanna, with Mrs. Delany; -the most pleasing I have spent with her yet. She entrusted to me her -collection of letters from Dean Swift and Dr. Young; and told me all -the anecdotes that occurred to her of both, and of her acquaintance -with them. How grievous that her sight continues enfeebling! all her -other senses, and all her faculties are perfect—though she thinks -otherwise. ‘My friends,’ she said, ‘will last me, I believe, as long as -I last, because they are very good; but the pleasure of our friendship -is now all to be received by me! for I have lost the power of returning -any!’ - - * * * * * - -“If she spoke on any other subject such untruths, I should not revere -her, as I now do, to my heart’s core. She had been in great affliction -at the death of Lady Mansfield; for whom the Duchess Dowager of -Portland had grieved, she said, yet more deeply: and they had shut -themselves up together from all other company. ‘But to-day,’ she added, -with a most soft smile, ‘her Grace could not come; and I felt I quite -required a cordial,—so I sent to beg for Miss Burney.’ - -“‘I have been told,’ she afterwards said, ‘that when I grew older, I -should feel less; but I do not find it so! I am sooner, I think, hurt -and affected than ever. I suppose it is with very old age as with -extreme youth, the effect of weakness; neither of those stages of life -have firmness for bearing misfortune with equanimity.’ - -“She keeps her good looks, however, unimpaired, except in becoming -thinner; and, when not under the pressure of recent grief, she is as -lively, gay, pleasant, and good-humouredly arch and playful, as she -could have been at eighteen. - -“‘I see, indeed,’ she said, ‘worse and worse, but I am thankful that, -at my age, eighty-four, I can see at all. My chief loss is from not -more quickly discerning the changes of countenance in my friends. -However, to distinguish even the light is a great blessing!’ - -“She had no company whatever, but her beautiful great niece.[77] The -Duchess was confined to her home by a bad cold. - -“She was so good as to shew me a most gracious letter from her Majesty, -which she had just received, and which finished thus condescendingly: - - “Believe me, my dear Mrs. Delany, - “Your affectionate Queen, - “CHARLOTTE.” - - - - -MR. SMELT. - - -Fortunately, also, now, Dr. Burney increased the intimacy of his -acquaintance with Mr. Smelt, formerly sub-governor to the Prince of -Wales;[78] a man who, for displaying human excellence in the three -essential points of Understanding, Character, and Conduct, stood upon -the same line of acknowledged perfection with Mr. Locke of Norbury -Park. And had that virtuous and anxious parent of his people, George -III., known them both at the critical instant when he was seeking a -model of a true fine gentleman, for the official situation of preceptor -to the heir of his sovereignty; he might have had to cope with the most -surprising of difficulties, that of seeing before his choice two men, -in neither of whom he could espy a blemish that could cast a preference -upon the other. - -The worth of both these gentlemen was known upon proof: their talents, -accomplishments, and taste in the arts and in literature, were -singularly similar. Each was soft and winning of speech, but firm and -intrepid of conduct; and their manners, their refined high breeding, -were unrivalled, save each by the other. And while the same, also, -was their reputation for integrity and honour, as for learning and -philosophy, the first personal delight of both was in the promotion and -exercise of those gentle charities of human life, which teach us to -solace and to aid our fellow-creatures. - - -END OF THE SECOND VOLUME. - - -BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, BOUVERIE STREET. - - - - -FOOTNOTES. - -[Footnote 1: By the second marriage.] - -[Footnote 2: Now the Honourable Mrs. Robinson.] - -[Footnote 3: The Doctor’s eldest daughter.] - -[Footnote 4: This early celebrated performer, now in the decline of -life, after losing her health, and nearly out-living her friends, -is reduced, not by faults but misfortunes, to a state of pecuniary -difficulties, through which she must long since have sunk, but for -the generous succour of some personages as high in benevolence as in -rank.[5] Should this appeal awaken some new commiserators of talents -and integrity, bowed down by years and distress, they will find, in a -small apartment, No. 58, in Great Portland-street, a feeble, but most -interesting person, who is truly deserving of every kind impulse she -may excite.] - -[Footnote 5: She is assisted, occasionally, by many noble ladies; but -the Earl of Mount Edgcumbe is her most active patron.] - -[Footnote 6: Pacchiorotti had not yet visited England.] - -[Footnote 7: Afterwards Lord Cardigan.] - -[Footnote 8: Afterwards Lord Malmsbury.] - -[Footnote 9: Afterwards Bishop of Durham.] - -[Footnote 10: Now Viscountess Keith.] - -[Footnote 11: See Correspondence.] - -[Footnote 12: This has reference wholly to Bolt Court, where he -constantly retained his home: at Streatham, continually as he there -resided, it was always as a guest.] - -[Footnote 13: Afterwards Mrs. Phillips.] - -[Footnote 14: The present Mrs. Broome.] - -[Footnote 15: Mrs. Burney, of Bath.] - -[Footnote 16: Now Viscountess Keith.] - -[Footnote 17: Afterwards Author of Biographiana.] - -[Footnote 18: His fifth daughter, Sarah Harriet, was then a child.] - -[Footnote 19: His nephew and heir, he sent over to London to be -educated.] - -[Footnote 20: See Correspondence.] - -[Footnote 21: This was written in the year 1828.] - -[Footnote 22: The first volume of this work was nearly printed, when -the Editor had the grief of hearing that Sir Walter Scott was no -more. In the general sorrow that his loss has spread throughout the -British Empire, she presumes not to speak of her own: but she cannot -persuade herself to annul the little tribute, by which she had meant to -demonstrate to him her sense of the vivacity with which he had sought -out her dwelling; invited her to the hospitality of his daughters at -Abbotsford; and courteously, nay, eagerly, offered to do the honours of -Scotland to her himself, from that celebrated abode. - -In a subsequent visit with which he honoured and delighted her in -the following year, she produced to him the scraps of documents and -fragments which she had collected from ancient diaries and letters, in -consequence of his inquiries. Pleased he looked; but told her that what -already she had related, already—to use his own word—he had “noted;” -adding, “And most particularly, I have not forgotten your mulberry -tree!” - -This little history, however, was so appropriately his own, and was -written so expressly with a view to its dedication, that still, with -veneration—though with sadness instead of gladness—she leaves the -brief exordium of her intended homage in its original state.—And -the less reluctantly, as the companion of his kindness and his -interrogatories will still—she hopes—accept, and not unwillingly, his -own share in the small offering.] - -[Footnote 23: Edward Burney, Esq., of Clipstone-street.] - -[Footnote 24: See Correspondence.] - -[Footnote 25: Sir Walter Scott was then a child.] - -[Footnote 26: Now Viscountess Keith.] - -[Footnote 27: The Editor, at the date of this letter, knew not that the -club to which Dr. Johnson alluded, was that which was denominated his -own,—or The Literary Club.] - -[Footnote 28: Afterwards Lord Ashburton.] - -[Footnote 29: Afterwards Sir William Weller Pepys.] - -[Footnote 30: Afterwards Lord Sheffield.] - -[Footnote 31: Now Mrs. Alison, of Edinburgh.] - -[Footnote 32: Translator of Tacitus.] - -[Footnote 33: Dr. Johnson told this to the Editor.] - -[Footnote 34: Dr. Fordyce’s Sermons to Young Women.] - -[Footnote 35: This was so strongly observed by Mrs. Maling, mother to -the Dowager Countess of Mulgrave, that she has often exclaimed to this -Memorialist, “Why did not Sir Joshua Reynolds paint Dr. Johnson when he -was speaking to Dr. Burney or to you?”] - -[Footnote 36: Dr. Lawrence, Sir Richard Jebb, Dr. Warren, Sir Lucas -Pepys.] - -[Footnote 37: By the Countess of Tankerville.] - -[Footnote 38: Afterwards George the Fourth.] - -[Footnote 39: Cecilia.] - -[Footnote 40: Miss Susanna Burney, afterwards Mrs. Phillips.] - -[Footnote 41: Miss Palmer.] - -[Footnote 42: Now Marquis of Stafford.] - -[Footnote 43: Now Viscountess Keith.] - -[Footnote 44: Afterward Marquis of Lansdowne, who first rented Mrs. -Thrale’s house at Streatham.] - -[Footnote 45: Sir William Weller Pepys, when he was eighty-four years -of age, told this Memorialist that he was the only male member then -remaining of the original set; and that Mrs. Hannah More was the only -remaining female.] - -[Footnote 46: This only treats of the Blue Meetings; not of the general -assemblies of Montagu House, which were conducted like all others in -the circles of high life.] - -[Footnote 47: Every May-day, Mrs. Montagu gave an annual breakfast in -the front of her new mansion, of roast beef and plum pudding, to all -the chimney sweepers of the Metropolis.] - -[Footnote 48: It was here, at Mrs. Montagu’s, that Doctor Burney had -the happiness to see open to this Memorialist an acquaintance with Mr. -and Mrs. Locke, which led, almost magically, to an intercourse that -formed,—and still forms, one of the first felicities of her life.] - -[Footnote 49: Now Countess of Cork.] - -[Footnote 50: The present Memorialist surprised him, one day, so -palpably employed in such an investigation, that, seeing her startled, -he looked almost ashamed; but, frankly laughing at the silent -detection, he cried: “When do you come to sit to me? I am quite ready!” -making a motion with his hand as if advancing it with a pencil to a -canvass: “All prepared!” intimating that he had settled in his thoughts -the disposition of her portrait.] - -[Footnote 51: The means for charitable contributions upon so liberal -a scale as those of Sir W. W. Pepys, may, perhaps, be deduced, by -analogy, from his wise and rare spirit of calculation: how to live -with the Greater and the Richer, and yet escape either the risk of -ruin, or the charge of meanness. “When I think it right,” said he, in -a visit which he made to this Memorialist, after walking, and alone, -at eighty-five, from Gloucester-place to Bolton-street, about three -weeks before his death, “When I think it right, whether for the good -of my excellent children, or for my own pleasure,—or for my little -personal dignity, to invite some wealthy Noble to dine with me, I make -it a point not to starve my family, or my poor pensioners, for a year -afterwards, by emulating his lordship’s, or his grace’s, table-fare. -I give, therefore, but a few dishes, and two small courses; all my -care is, that every thing shall be well served, and the best of its -kind. And when we sit down, I frankly tell them my plan; upon which -my guests, more flattered by that implied acknowledgment of their -superior rank and rent-roll, than they could possibly be by any attempt -at emulation; and happy to find that they shall make no breach in my -domestic economy and comfort, immediately fall to, with an appetite -that would surprise you! and that gives me the greatest gratification. -I do not suppose that they anywhere make a more hearty meal.”] - -[Footnote 52: Mr. Cambridge was a potent contributor to the periodical -paper called The World; for which Mr. Jenyns, also, occasionally wrote.] - -[Footnote 53: Swift’s Long-Eared Letter.] - -[Footnote 54: Now Mrs. Alison, of Edinburgh.] - -[Footnote 55: Daughter of John Granville, Esq., and niece of Pope’s -Granville, the then Lord Lansdowne, “of every Muse the Friend.”] - -[Footnote 56: See Sir Walter Scott’s Life of Swift.] - -[Footnote 57: This invaluable _unique_ work has lately been purchased -by —— Hall, Esq.; a son-in-law of Mrs. Delany’s favourite niece, Mrs. -Waddington.] - -[Footnote 58: Since Lord Rokeby.] - -[Footnote 59: Mrs. Montagu.] - -[Footnote 60: Now Mrs. Agnew, the amanuensis and attendant of Mrs. -Delany.] - -[Footnote 61: Miss Larolles, now, would say eleven or twelve.] - -[Footnote 62: Mrs. Burney, of Bath.] - -[Footnote 63: Charlotte, now Mrs. Broome; the young_est_ daughter, -Sarah Harriet, was still a child.] - -[Footnote 64: See Correspondence.] - -[Footnote 65: M. Berquin, some years later, was nominated preceptor -to the unfortunate Louis XVII., but was soon dismissed by the inhuman -monsters who possessed themselves of the person of that crownless -orphan King.] - -[Footnote 66: See Correspondence.] - -[Footnote 67: Now Madame Adelaide, sister to Louis Philippe.] - -[Footnote 68: Madame de Genlis, in her Memoirs, mentions this -appointment in terms of less dignity.] - -[Footnote 69: This _maladie du pays_ has pursued and annoyed her -through life; except when incidentally surprised away by peculiar -persons, or circumstances.] - -[Footnote 70: “Mr. Bewley, for more than twenty years, supplied the -editor of the Monthly Review with an examination of innumerable works -in science, and articles of foreign literature, written with a force, -spirit, candour, and, when the subject afforded opportunity, humour, -not often found in critical discussions.”] - -[Footnote 71: Now Mrs. Broome.] - -[Footnote 72: This bore reference to an expression of Dr. Johnson’s, -upon hearing that Mrs. Montagu resented his Life of Lord Lyttleton. - -The Diary Letter to Susannah, whence these two billets are copied, -finishes with this paragraph. - -“Our dear father, as eager as myself that our most reverenced Dr. -Johnson should not be hurt or offended, spared me the coach, and to -Bolt Court I went in the evening: and with outspread arms of parental -greeting to mark my welcome, was I received. Nobody was there but our -brother Charles and Mr. Sastres: and Dr. Johnson, repeatedly thanking -me for coming, was, if possible, more instructive, entertaining, and -exquisitely fertile than ever; and so full of amenity, and talked so -affectionately of our father, that neither Charles nor I could tell -how to come away. While he, in return, soothed by exercising his noble -faculties with natural, unexcited good-humour and pleasantry, would -have kept us, I believe, to this moment— - -“You have no objection, I think, my Susan, to a small touch of -hyperbole?—— - -if the coachman and the horses had been as well entertained as -ourselves.”] - -[Footnote 73: By Edward Burney, Esq., of Clipstone-street.] - -[Footnote 74: Hester Lynch Salusbury, Mrs. Thrale, was lineally -descended from Adam of Saltsburg, who came over to England with the -Conqueror.] - -[Footnote 75: The late Sir Thomas Lawrence, in speaking of Norbury Park -to this editor, while he was painting his matchless picture of Mrs. -Locke, senior, in 1826, said “I have seen much of the world since I -was first admitted to Norbury Park,—but I have never seen another Mr. -Locke!”] - -[Footnote 76: This, also, was the opinion of Sir Thomas Lawrence.] - -[Footnote 77: Miss Port, now Mrs. Waddington of Llanover House.] - -[Footnote 78: Afterwards George IV.] - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES. - -1. Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected. - -2. Typographical errors were silently corrected. - -3. Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only when -a predominant form was found in this book. - -4. 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- margin-left: 1.5em; - } -} - -.covernote {visibility: visible; display: block; margin-top: 2em;} - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Memoirs of Doctor Burney, (Vol. 2 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. 2 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: April 25, 2020 [EBook #61926] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIRS OF DOCTOR BURNEY, -(Vol. 2 of 3) *** - - - - -Produced by MWS, Brian Wilsden and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="topspace1"></div> -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover" width="550" height="800" /> -</div> -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<div class="covernote"> -<p class="center" style="margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;"> -The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h1>MEMOIRS<br /> -<span class="xsmall">OF</span><br /> -DOCTOR BURNEY.</h1> -</div> - -<hr class="r65" /> - -<div class="break-before"> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<span class="xxxlarge">MEMOIRS</span><br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">OF</span><br /> -<br /> -<span class="xxxlarge">DOCTOR BURNEY,</span><br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">ARRANGED</span><br /> -<br /> -FROM HIS OWN MANUSCRIPTS, FROM FAMILY PAPERS, AND<br /> -FROM PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS.<br /> -<br /> -<span class="xsmall">BY</span><br /> -<br /> -<span class="large smcap">HIS DAUGHTER, MADAME</span> d’<span class="large smcap">ARBLAY</span>.<br /> -<br /> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="small"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“O could my feeble powers thy virtues trace,</div> - <div class="verse">By filial love each fear should be suppress’d;</div> - <div class="verse">The blush of incapacity I’d chace,</div> - <div class="verse">And stand—Recorder of Thy worth!—confess’d.”</div> - <div class="topspace1"></div> - <div class="verse indent8"><i>Anonymous Dedication of Evelina, to Dr. Burney, in 1778.</i></div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="topspace3"></div> -<p class="center">IN THREE VOLUMES.</p> -<div class="topspace3"></div> -<p class="center xlarge">VOL. II.</p> -<div class="topspace3"></div> -<p class="center large">LONDON:</p> -<p class="center">EDWARD MOXON, 64, NEW BOND STREET.</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<p class="center">1832.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<hr class="r65" /> - -<div class="break-before"> -<p class="center"> -LONDON:<br /> -BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS,<br /> -BOUVERIE STREET.<br /> -</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 1]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak"> -MEMOIRS<br /> -<span class="xsmall">OF</span><br /> -DOCTOR BURNEY. -</h2> -</div> -<hr class="r15" /> - -<p><span class="smcap">Such</span>, as far as can be gathered, or recollected, was the list of the -general home circle of Dr. Burney, on his beginning residence in St. -Martin’s-Street; though many persons must be omitted, not to swell -voluminously a mere catalogue of names, where no comment, or memorandum -of incident, has been left of them by the Doctor.</p> - -<p>But to enumerate the friends or acquaintances with whom he associated -in the world at large, would be nearly to ransack the Court Calendar, -the list of the Royal Society, of the Literary Club, of all assemblages -of eminent artists; and almost every other list that includes the -celebrated or active characters, then moving, like himself, in the -vortex of public existence.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 2]</span></p> - -<p>Chiefly, however, after those already named, stood, in his estimation, -Mr. Chamier, Mr. Boone, Dr. Warton, and his brother, Dr. Thomas Warton, -Sir Richard Jebb, Mr. Matthias, Mr. Cox, Dr. Lind, and Mr. Planta, of -the Museum.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">OMIAH.</h2> - -<p>At the end of the year 1775, the Doctor’s eldest son, Captain James -Burney, who, on board the Cerberus, had convoyed General Burgoyne to -America, obtained permission from the Admiralty to return home, in -order to again accompany Captain Cooke in a voyage round the world; the -second circumnavigation of the young Captain; the third, and unhappily -the last, of the great Captain Cooke.</p> - -<p>Omiah, whom they were to restore to his country and friends, came now -upon a leave-taking visit to the family of his favourite Captain Burney.</p> - -<p>Omiah, by this time, had made some proficiency in the English language, -and in English customs; and he knew the town so well, that he -perambulated it for exercise and for visits, without either interpreter -or guide.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 3]</span></p> - -<p>But he owed quite as much assistance to attitude and gesture, for -making himself understood, as to speech, for in that he was still, at -times, quite unintelligible. To dumb shew he was probably familiar, -the brevity and paucity of his own dialect making it necessarily a -principal source of communication at Ulitea and at Otaheite. What he -knew of English he must have caught instinctively and mechanically, -as it is caught by children; and, it may be, only the faster from -having his attention unencumbered with grammatical difficulties, or -orthographical contrarieties: yesterday served for the past, in all its -distances: tomorrow, for the future, in all its dependences.</p> - -<p>The King allowed him a handsome pension, upon which he lived perfectly -at ease, and very happily: and he entertained, in return, as gratefully -loyal a devotion to his Majesty as if he had been a native born subject.</p> - -<p>He was very lively, yet gentle; and even politely free from any -forwardness or obtrusion; holding back, and keeping silent, when not -called into notice, with as much delicacy and reserve, as any well bred -European. And his confidence in the benevolence and honour of the -strangers with whom he had - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 4]</span> - -trusted his person and his life, spoke a nature as intrepid as it was -guileless.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney inquired of him whether he had lately seen the King?</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he answered, “Yes. King George bid me, ‘Omy, you go home.’ O! -dood man, King George! ver dood man!—not ver bad!”</p> - -<p>He then endeavoured, very pleasingly, to discriminate between his joy -at returning to his native land, and his grief in quitting England. -“Lord Sandwich,” he said, “bid me—Mr. Omy, you two ships: one, two: -you go home. Omy make ver fine bow;” which he rose to perform, and with -grace and ease; “den Omy say, My lord, ver much oblige!”</p> - -<p>The Doctor asked whether he had been at the Opera?</p> - -<p>His answer was a violent and ear-jarring squeak, by way of imitating -Italian singing. Nevertheless, he said that he began to like it a great -deal better than he had done at first.</p> - -<p>He now missed Richard, the Doctor’s youngest son,<a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> -and, upon being told that he was gone to - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 5]</span> - -school, clapped his hands, and cried, “O, learn book? ver well.” -Then, putting his hands together, and opening and shutting them, to -imitate turning over the leaves of a book, he attempted to describe -the humour of some school that he had been taken to see. “Boys here;” -he cried: “boys there; boys all over. Master call. One boy come up. Do -so,—” muttering a confused jargon to imitate reading. “Not ver -well. Ver bad. Master do so!”</p> - -<p>He then described the master giving the boy a rap on the shoulder with -the book. “Ha! ha!—Boy like ver bad! not ver well. Boy do so;” making -wry faces. “Poor boy! not ver dood. Boy ver bad.”</p> - -<p>When the Doctor wished to know what he thought of English horses, and -the English mode of riding, he answered, “Omy like ver well.” He then -tried to expatiate upon riding double, which he had seen upon the high -road, and which had much astonished him. “First,” cried he, “go man; -so!—” making a motion as if mounting and whipping a horse. “Then -here!” pointing behind him; “here go woman! Ha! ha! ha!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 6]</span></p> - -<p>The Doctor asked when he had seen the beautiful Lady Townshend, who was -said to desire his acquaintance.</p> - -<p>He immediately made a low bow, with a pleased smile, and said, “Ver -pret woman, Lady Townshend; not ver nasty. Omy drink tea with Lady -Townshend in one, two, tree days. Lord Townshend my friend. Lady -Townshend my friend. Ver pret woman, Lady Townshend: ver pret woman -Mrs. Crewe: ver pret woman Mrs. Bouverie: ver pret woman, Lady Craven.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney concurred, and admired his taste. He then said, that when -he was invited anywhere they wrote, “Mr. Omy, you come—dinner, tea, -supper.—Then Omy go, ver fast.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney requested that he would favour us with a national song of -Ulitea, which he had sung to Lord Sandwich, at Hinchenbrook.</p> - -<p>He seemed much ashamed, and unwilling to comply, from a full -consciousness now acquired of the inferiority of his native music to -our’s. But the family all joined in the Doctor’s wish, and he was too -obliging to refuse. Nevertheless, he was so modest, that he seemed to -blush alike at his own - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 7]</span> - -performance, and at the barbarity of his South Sea Islands’ harmony; -and he began two or three times before he could gather firmness to -proceed.</p> - -<p>Nothing could be more curious, or less pleasing than this singing. -Voice he had none; and tune, or air, did not seem to be even aimed at, -either by composer or performer. ’Twas a mere queer, wild and strange -rumbling of uncouth sounds.</p> - -<p>His music, Dr. Burney declared, was all that he had about him of savage.</p> - -<p>He took great pains, however, to Englishize the meaning of his ditty, -which was laughable enough. It appeared to be a sort of trio, formed -by an old woman, a young woman, and a young man: the two latter begin -by entertaining each other with praises of their mutual merits, and -protestations of their mutual passion; when the old woman enters, -and endeavours to allure to herself the attention of the young man; -and, as she cannot boast of her personal charms, she is very busy in -displaying her dress and decorations, and making him observe and admire -her draperies. He stood up to act this scene; and shewed much humour -in representing the absurd affectation and languishing grimaces of -this ancient enamorata. The youth, next, turning from her - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 8]</span> - -with scorn, openly avows his passion for the young nymph: upon -which, the affronted antique dame authoritatively orders the damsel -away; and then, coming up, with soft and loving smiles, offers -herself unreservedly to the young man; saying, to use his own words, -“Come—marry me!” The young man starts back, as if from some -venomous insect; but, half returning, makes her a reverence, and -then humbly begs she will be so good as to excuse him; but, as she -approaches to answer, and to coax him, he repels her with derision, and -impetuously runs off.</p> - -<p>Notwithstanding the singing of Omiah was so barbarous, his action, -and the expression of his countenance, was so original, that they -afforded great amusement, of the risible kind, to the Doctor and his -family, who could not finally part from him without much regret; so -gentle, so ingenuous, so artless, and so pleasing had been his conduct -and conversation in his frequent visits to the house; nor did he, in -return, finally quit them without strong symptoms even of sadness.</p> - -<p>In the February of the ensuing year, 1776, Captain Burney set sail, -with Captain Cooke and Omiah, on their watery tour.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 9]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CONCERTS.</h2> - -<p>In the private narrative of an historian of the musical art, it -may not be improper to insert some account of the concerts, which -he occasionally gave to invited friends and acquaintances at his -own house; as they biographically mark his style of life, and the -consideration in which he was held by the musical world.</p> - -<p>The company was always small, as were the apartments in which it was -received; but always select, as the name, fame, and travels of the -Doctor, by allowing him a choice of guests, enabled him to limit -admission to real lovers of music.</p> - -<p>He had never any formal band; though it is probable that there was -hardly a musician in England who, if called upon, would have refused -his services. But they were not requisite to allure those whom the -Doctor wished to please or oblige; and a crowd in a private apartment -he thought as inimical to harmony as to conversation.</p> - -<p>It was, primarily, to gratify Mr. Crisp that, while yet in -Poland street, he had begun these little musical assemblages; which, in -different forms, and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 10]</span> - -with different parties, he continued, or renewed, through life.</p> - -<p>The simplicity of the entertainment had, probably, its full share in -the incitement to its participation. A request to or from the master -of the house, was the sole ticket of entrance. And the urbanity of -the Doctor upon these occasions, with the warmth of his praise to -excellence, and the candour of his indulgence to failure, made his -reception of his visitors dispense a pleasure so unconstrained, so -varied, so good-humoured, that his concerts were most sought as a -favour by those whose presence did them the most honour.</p> - -<p>To style them, however, concerts, may be conferring on them a dignity -to which they had not any pretension. There was no bill of fare: there -were no engaged subalterns, either to double, or aid, or contrast, with -the principals. The performances were promiscuous; and simply such as -suited the varying humours and desires of the company; a part of which -were always assistants as well as auditors.</p> - -<p>Some details of these harmonical coteries, which were written at the -moment by this memorialist to Mr. Crisp, will be selected from amongst - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 11]</span> - -those which contain characteristic traits of persons of celebrity; as -they may more pointedly display their cast and nature, than any merely -descriptive reminiscences.</p> - -<p>No apology will be pleaded for the careless manner in which these -accounts are recorded; Mr. Crisp, as may have been observed in the -narrations that have been copied relative to Mr. Bruce, prohibited -all form or study in his epistolary intercourse with his young -correspondent.</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<h3 class="nobreak">CONCERT.—ABSTRACT FIRST.</h3> - -<p class="center smcap">“To Samuel Crisp, Esq.</p> - -<p class="sig-right5">“<i>Chesington, Kingston, Surrey.</i></p> - -<p>“Let me now try, my dear Mr. Crisp, if I cannot have the pleasure -to make you dolorously repent your inexorability to coming to town. -We have had such sweet music!—But let me begin with the company, -according to your orders.</p> - -<p>“They all arrived early, and staid the whole evening.</p> - -<p>“The Baron de Deiden, the Danish ambassador.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 12]</span></p> - -<p>“The Baroness, his wife; a sweet woman, indeed; young, pretty, -accomplished, and graceful. She is reckoned the finest <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">dilletante</i> -performer on the piano-forte in Europe.</p> - -<p>“I might be contented, you will perhaps say, to have given her this -precedence in England and in Denmark; <em>i.e.</em> in her own country and in -our’s: but Europe sounds more noble!</p> - -<p>“The Honourable Miss Phipps, who came with her, or rather, I believe, -was brought by her, for they are great friends; and Miss Phipps had -already been with us in Queen-square. Miss Phipps is a daughter of Lord -Mulgrave, and sister to the famous Polar captain. She seems full of -spirit and taste.</p> - -<p>“Sir James and Lady Lake; Sir Thomas Clarges; Mrs. and Miss Ord; and -a good many others, agreeable enough, though too tedious to mention, -having nothing either striking or odd in them. But the pride of the -evening, as neither you, my dear Mr. Crisp, nor Mr. Twining, could be -with us, was Mr. HARRIS, <i>of Salisbury</i>, author of the three treatises -on Poetry, Music, and Painting; Philosophical Arrangements; Hermes, &c. -He brought with him Mrs. Harris, and his second daughter, Miss Louisa, -a distinguished - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 13]</span> - -lady-musician. Miss Harris,<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> the eldest, a cultivated -and high-bred character, is, I believe, with her brother, our minister -at Petersburgh.</p> - -<p>“Hettina,<a name="FNanchor_3" id="FNanchor_3"></a> <a -href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> Mr. Burney, and our noble -selves, bring up the rear.</p> - -<p>“There was a great deal of conversation previous to the music. But as -the party was too large for a general <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">chatterment</i>, every body that -had not courage to stroll about and please themselves, was obliged to -take up with their next neighbour. What think you, then, of my good -fortune, when I tell you I happened to sit by Mr. Harris? and that -that so happening, joined to my being at home,—however otherwise -insignificant,—gave me the intrepidity to abandon my yea and nay -responses, when he was so good as to try whether I could make any -other. His looks, indeed, are so full of benignity, as well as of -meaning and understanding; and his manners have a suavity so gentle, so -encouraging, that, notwithstanding his high name as an author, all fear -from his renown was wholly whisked away by delight in his discourse and -his countenance.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 14]</span></p> - -<p>“My father was in excellent spirits, and walked about from one to -another, giving pleasure to all whom he addressed.</p> - -<p>“As we had no violins, basses, flutes, &c., we were forced to cut short -the formality of any overture, and to commence by the harp. Mr. Jones -had a very sweet instrument, with new pedals, constructed by Merlin. He -plays very well, and with very neat execution.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Burney, then, at the request of the Baroness de Deiden, went to -the harpsichord, where he fired away with his usual genius. He first -played a Concerto of Schobert’s; and then, as the Baroness would not -let him rise, another of my father’s.</p> - -<p>“When Mr. Burney had received <em>the compliments of the nobility and -gentry</em>, my father solicited the Baroness to take his place.</p> - -<p>“‘O no!’ she cried, ‘I cannot hear of such a thing! It is out of -the question! It would be a figurante to dance a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">pas seul</i> after -Mademoiselle Heinel.’</p> - -<p>“However, her animated friend, Miss Phipps, joined so earnestly with -my father in entreaty, that, as the Baron looked strongly his sanction -to their wishes, she was prevailed upon to yield; which she - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 15]</span> - -did most gracefully; and she then played a difficult lesson of -Schobert’s remarkably well, with as much meaning as execution. She is, -besides, so modest, so unassuming, and so pretty, that she was the -general object of admiration.</p> - -<p>“When my father went to thank her, she said she had never been so -frightened before in her life.</p> - -<p>“My father then begged another German composition from her, which he -had heard her play at Lord Mulgrave’s. She was going, most obligingly, -to comply, when the Baron, in a half whisper, and pointing to my sister -Burney, said; ‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Après, ma chère!</i>’</p> - -<p>“‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Eh bien oui!</i>’ cried Miss Phipps, in a lively tone, ‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">après Madame</i> -Burney! come Mrs. Burney, pray indulge us.’</p> - -<p>“The Baroness, with a pleased smile, most willingly made way; and your -Hettina, unaffectedly, though not quite unfluttered, took her seat; and -to avoid any air of emulation, with great propriety began with a slow -movement, as the Baroness had played a piece of execution.</p> - -<p>“For this purpose, she chose your favourite bit of Echard; and I never -heard her play it better, if so well. Merlin’s new pedals made it exquisite; - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 16]</span> - -and the expression, feeling, and taste with which she performed it, -raised a general murmur of applause.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Harris inquired eagerly the name of the composer. Every body -seemed to be struck, nay enchanted: and charmed into such silence of -attention, that if a pin had dropt, it would have caused a universal -start.</p> - -<p>“I should be ashamed not to give you a more noble metaphor, or simile, -or comparison, than a pin; only I know how cheap you hold all attempts -at fine writing; and that you will like my poor simple pin, just as -well as if I had stunned you with a cannon ball.</p> - -<p>“Miss Louisa Harris then consented to vary the entertainment by -singing. She was accompanied by Mr. Harris, whose soul seems all music, -though he has made his pen amass so many other subjects into the -bargain. She has very little voice, either for sound or compass; yet, -which is wonderful, she gave us all extreme pleasure; for she sings -in so high a style, with such pure taste, such native feeling, and -such acquired knowledge of music, that there is not one fine voice in -a hundred I could listen to with equal satisfaction. She gave us an -unpublished air of Sacchini’s, introduced by some noble recitative - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 17]</span> - -of that delicious composer.</p> - -<p>“She declared, however, she should have been less frightened to have -sung at a theatre, than to such an audience. But she was prevailed with -to give us, afterwards, a sweet flowing rondeau of Rauzzini’s, from his -opera of Piramis and Thisbe. She is extremely unaffected and agreeable.</p> - -<p>“Then followed what my father called the great gun of the evening, -Müthel’s duet for two harpsichords; which my father thinks the noblest -composition of its kind in the world.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Burney and the Hettina now came off with flying colours indeed; -nothing could exceed the general approbation. Mr. Harris was in an -ecstacy that played over all his fine features; Sir James Lake, who is -taciturn and cold, was surprised even into loquacity in its praise; -Lady Lake, more prone to be pleased, was delighted to rapture; the -fine physiognomy of Miss Phipps, was lighted up to an animation quite -enlivening to behold; and the sweet Baroness de Deiden, repeatedly -protested she had never been at so singularly agreeable a concert -before.</p> - -<p>“She would not listen to any entreaty, however, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 18]</span> - -to play again; and all instrumental music was voted to be out of the -question for that night. Miss Louisa Harris then, with great good -breeding, as well as good nature, was won by a general call to give us -a finale, in a fine bravura air of Sacchini’s, which she sung extremely -well, though under evident and real affright.</p> - -<p>“There was then a good deal of chat, very gay and pleasing; after which -the company went away, in all appearance, uncommonly gratified: and we -who remained at home, were, in all reality, the same.</p> - -<p>“But how we wished for our dear Mr. Crisp! Do pray, now, leave your -gout to itself, and come to our next music meeting. Or if it needs must -cling to you, and come also, who knows but that music, which has</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center smaller">“‘Charms to sooth the savage breast,<br /> -To soften rocks, and bend a knotted oak—’</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>may have charms also, To soften Gout, and <em>Un</em>bend Knotted Fingers?”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Previously to any further perusal of these juvenile narrations, it -is necessary to premise, that there - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 19]</span> - -were, at this period, three of the most excelling singers that ever -exerted rival powers at the same epoch, who equally and earnestly -sought the acquaintance and suffrage of Dr. Burney; namely,</p> - -<div class="sig-left5"> -Miss Cecilia Davies, detta l’Inglesina,<br /> -La Signora Agujari, detta la Bastardella,<br /> -And the far-famed Signora Gabrielli. -</div> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<h3 class="nobreak">CECILIA DAVIES, DETTA L’INGLESINA.</h3> - -<p>Miss Cecilia Davies, during a musical career, unfortunately as brief as -it was splendid, had, at her own desire, been made known to Dr. Burney -in a manner as peculiar as it was honourable, for it was through the -medium of Dr. Johnson; a medium which ensured her the best services of -Dr. Burney, and the esteem of all his family.</p> - -<p>Her fame and talents are proclaimed in the History of Music, where it -is said, “Miss Davies had the honour of being the first English woman -who performed the female parts in several great theatres in Italy; to -which extraordinary distinction succeeded that of her becoming the -first woman at the great opera theatre of London.”</p> - -<p>And in this course of rare celebrity, her unimpeachable - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 20]</span> - -conduct, her pleasing manners, and her engaging modesty -of speech and deportment, fixed as much respect on her person and -character, as her singularly youthful success had fastened upon her -professional abilities.</p> - -<p>But, unfortunately, no particulars can be given of any private -performance of this our indigenous brilliant ornament at the house -of Dr. Burney; for though she was there welcomed, and was even eager -to oblige him, the rigour of her opera articles prohibited her from -singing even a note, at that time, to any private party.<a name="FNanchor_4" id="FNanchor_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p> - -<p>The next abstract, therefore, refers to</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 21]</span></p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<h3 class="nobreak">AGUJARI, DETTA LA BASTARDELLA.</h3> - -<p class="center smcap">“To Samuel Crisp, Esq.</p> - -<p class="pindent1">“My dear Mr. Crisp,</p> - -<p>“My father says I must write you every thing of every sort about -Agujari, that you may get ready, well or ill, to come and hear her. -So pray make haste, and never mind such common obstacles as health or -sickness upon such an occasion.</p> - -<p>“La Signora Agujari has been nick-named, my father says, in Italy, from -some misfortune attendant upon her birth—but of which she, at least, -is innocent—La Bastardella. She is now come over to England, in the -prime of her life and her fame, upon an engagement with the proprietors -of the Pantheon, to sing two songs at their concert, at one hundred -pounds a night! My father’s tour in Italy has made his name and his -historical design so well known there in the musical world, that she -immediately desired his acquaintance on her arrival in London; and Dr. -Maty, one of her protectors in this country, was deputed to bring them -together; which he did, in St. Martin’s-Street, last week.</p> - -<p>“Dr. Maty is pleasing, intelligent, and well bred; - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 22]</span> - -though formal, precise, and a rather affected little man. But he stands -very high, they say, in the classes of literature and learning; and, -moreover, of character and worthiness.</p> - -<p>He handed the Signora, with much pompous ceremony, into the -drawing-room, where—trumpets not being at hand—he introduced her to -my father with a fine flourish of compliments, as a phenomenon now -first letting herself down to grace this pigmy island.</p> - -<p>This style of lofty grandeur seemed perfectly accordant with the style -and fancy of the Signora; whose air and deportment announced deliberate -dignity, and a design to strike all beholders with awe, as well as -admiration.</p> - -<p>She is a handsome woman, of middle stature, and seems to be about -twenty-four or twenty-five years of age; with a very good and healthy -complexion, becomingly and not absurdly rouged; a well-shaped nose, a -well-cut mouth, and very prominent, rolling, expressive, and dyingly -languishing eyes.</p> - -<p>She was attended by Signor Colla, her maestro, and, as some -assert, her husband; but, undoubtedly, her obsequious and inseparable -companion. He is tall, thin, almost fiery when conversing; and -tolerably - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 23]</span> - -well furnished with gesture and grimace; <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">id est</i>, made up of nothing -else.</p> - -<p>The talk was all in French or Italian, and almost all between the two -Doctors, Burney and Maty; we rest, being only auditors, except when -something striking was said upon music, or upon some musician; and then -the hot thin Italian, who is probably a Neapolitan, jumped up, and -started forth into an abrupt rhapsody, with such agitation of voice and -manner, that every limb seemed at work almost as nimbly as his tongue.</p> - -<p>But la Signora Agujari sat always in placid, majestic silence, when she -was not personally addressed.</p> - -<p>Signor Colla expressed the most unbounded veneration for il Signor -Dottore Borni; whose learned character, he said, in Italy, had left -him there a name that had made it an honour to be introduced to <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">un si -célebre homme</i>. My father retorted the compliment upon the Agujari; -lamenting that he had missed hearing her abroad, where her talents, -then, were but rising into renown.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, though he naturally concluded that this visit was -designed for granting him that gratification, he was somewhat diffident -how to demand it from one who, in England, never quavers for less than -fifty guineas an air. To pave, therefore, the way to his - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 24]</span> - -request, he called upon Mr. Burney and the Hettina to open the concert -with a duet.</p> - -<p>They readily complied; and the Agujari, now, relinquished a part of her -stately solemnity, to give way, though not without palpably marvelling -that it could be called for, to the pleasure that their performance -excited; for pleasure in music is a sensation that she seems to think -ought to be held in her own gift. And, indeed, for vocal music, -Gabrielli is, avowedly, the only exception to her universal disdain.</p> - -<p>As Mr. Burney and the Hettina, however, attempted not to invade her -excluding prerogative, they first escaped her supercilious contempt, -and next caught her astonished attention; which soon, to our no small -satisfaction, rose to open, lively, and even vociferous rapture. In -truth, I believe, she was really glad to be surprised out of her -fatiguing dumb grandeur.</p> - -<p>This was a moment not to be lost, and my father hinted his wishes to -Dr. Maty; Dr. Maty hinted them to Signor Colla; but Signor Colla did -not take the hint of hinting them to La Bastardella. He shrugged, and -became all gesticulation, and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 25]</span> - -answered that the Signora would undoubtedly sing to the Signor Dottore -Borni; but that, at this moment, she had a slight sore throat; and -her desire, when she performed to il Signor Dottore Borni was, <em>si -possible</em>, he added, to surpass herself.</p> - -<p>We were all horribly disappointed; but Signor Colla made what amends -he could, by assuring us that we had never yet known what singing -was! “<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">car c’est une prodêge, Messieurs et Mesdames, que la Signora -Agujari</i>.”</p> - -<p>My father bowed his acquiescence; and then enquired whether she had -been at the opera?</p> - -<p>“‘O no;’ Signor Colla answered; ‘she was too much afraid of that -complaint which all her countrymen who travelled to England had so -long lamented, and which the English call catch-cold, to venture to a -theatre.’</p> - -<p>“Agujari then condescended to inquire whether <i lang="it">il Signor Dottore</i> had -heard the Gabrielli?</p> - -<p>“‘Not yet,’ he replied; ‘he waited her coming to England. He had missed -her in Italy, from her having passed that year in Sicily.’</p> - -<p>“‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Ah Diable!</i>’ exclaimed the Bastardini, ‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">mais c’est dommage!</i>’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 26]</span></p> - -<p>“This familiar ‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Diable!</i>’ from such majestic loftiness, had a very -droll effect.</p> - -<p>“‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Et vous, Signora, l’avez-vous entendue?</i>’</p> - -<p>“‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">O que non!</i>’ answered she, quite bluffly; ‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">cela n’est pas -possible!</i>’</p> - -<p>“And we were alarmed to observe that she looked highly affronted; -though we could not possibly conjecture why, till Signor Colla, in a -whisper, represented the error of the inquiry, by saying, that two -first singers could never meet.</p> - -<p>“‘True!’ Dr. Maty cried; ‘two suns never light us at once.’</p> - -<p>“The Signora, to whom this was repeated in Italian, presently recovered -her placid dignity by the blaze of these two suns; and, before she went -away, was in such perfect amity with <i>il Signor Dottore</i>, that she -voluntarily declared she would come again, when her sore throat was -over, and <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">chanter comme il faut</i>.”</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<h3 class="nobreak">CONCERT.—EXTRACT THE THIRD.</h3> - -<p class="pindent1">“My dear Mr. Crisp,</p> - -<p class="pindent2">“My father, now, bids me write for him—which -I do with joy and pride, for now, now,thus instigated, thus -authorised, let me present to you the triumphant, the unique -Agujari!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 27]</span></p> - -<p>“O how we all wished for you when she broke forth in her vocal glory! -The great singers of olden times, whom I have heard you so emphatically -describe, seem to have all their talents revived in this wonderful -creature. I could compare her to nothing I have ever heard, but only -to what you have heard; your Carestini, Farinelli, Senesino, alone are -worthy to be ranked with the Bastardini.</p> - -<p>“She came with the Signor Maestro Colla, very early, to tea.</p> - -<p>“I cannot deign to mention our party,—but it was small and -good:—though by no means bright enough to be enumerated in the same -page with Agujari.</p> - -<p>“She frightened us a little, at first, by complaining of a cold. How -we looked at one another! Mr. Burney was called upon to begin; which -he did with even more than his usual spirit; and then—without waiting -for a petition—which nobody, not even my dear father, had yet gathered -courage to make, Agujari, the Bastardella, arose, voluntarily arose, to -sing!</p> - -<p>“We all rose too! we seemed all ear. There was - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 28]</span> - -no occasion for any other part to our persons. Had a fan,—for -I won’t again give you a pin,—fallen, I suppose we should -have taken it for at least a thunder-clap. All was hushed and rapt -attention.</p> - -<p>“Signor Colla accompanied her. She began with what she called a little -minuet of his composition.</p> - -<p>“Her cold was not affected, for her voice, at first, was not quite -clear; but she acquitted herself charmingly. And, little as she called -this minuet, it contained difficulties which I firmly believe no other -singer in the world could have executed.</p> - -<p>“But her great talents, and our great astonishment, were reserved for -her second song, which was taken from Metastatio’s opera of Didone, set -by Colla, ‘<i lang="it" xml:lang="it">Non hai ragione, ingrato!</i>’</p> - -<p>“As this was an <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">aria parlante</i>, she first, in a voice softly -melodious, read us the words, that we might comprehend what she had to -express.</p> - -<p>“It is nobly set; nobly! ‘Bravo, il Signor Maestro!’ cried my father, -two or three times. She began with a fullness and power of voice that -amazed us beyond all our possible expectations. She then lowered it -to the most expressive softness—in short, my dear Mr. Crisp, she was -sublime! I can use no other word without degrading her.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 29]</span></p> - -<p>“This, and a second great song from the same opera, <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">Son Regina</i>, -and <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">Son Amante</i>, she sang in a style to which my ears have hitherto -been strangers. She unites, to her surprising and incomparable -powers of execution, and luxuriant facility and compass of voice, -an expression still more delicate—and, I had almost said, -equally feeling with that of my darling Millico, who first opened -my sensations to the melting and boundless delights of vocal -melody.<a name="FNanchor_6" id="FNanchor_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> -In fact, in Millico, it was his own -sensibility that excited that of his hearers; it was so genuine, so -touching! It seemed never to want any spur from admiration, but always -to owe its excellence to its own resistless pathos.</p> - -<p>“Yet, with all its vast compass, and these stupendous sonorous sounds, -the voice of Agujari has a mellowness, a sweetness, that are quite -vanquishing. One can hardly help falling at her feet while one listens! -Her shake, too, is so plump, so true, so open! and, to display her -various abilities to my father, she sang in twenty styles—if twenty -there may be; for nothing is beyond her reach. In songs of execution, -her divisions were so rapid, and so - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 30]</span> - -brilliant, they almost made one dizzy from breathless admiration: her -cantabiles were so fine, so rich, so moving, that we could hardly keep -the tears from our eyes. Then she gave us some accompanied recitative, -with a nobleness of accent, that made every one of us stand erect out -of respect! Then, how fascinately she condescended to indulge us with -a rondeau! though she holds that simplicity of melody beneath her; -and therefore rose from it to chaunt some church music, of the Pope’s -Chapel, in a style so nobly simple, so grandly unadorned, that it -penetrated to the inmost sense. She is just what she will: she has the -highest taste, with an expression the most pathetic; and she executes -difficulties the most wild, the most varied, the most incredible, with -just as much ease and facility as I can say—my dear Mr. Crisp!</p> - -<p>“Now don’t you die to come and hear her? I hope you do. O, she is -indescribable!</p> - -<p>“Assure yourself my father joins in all this, though perhaps, if he -had time to write for himself, he might do it more Lady Grace like, -‘soberly.’ I hope she will fill up at least half a volume of his -history. I wish he would call her, The Heroine of Music!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 31]</span></p> - -<p>“We could not help regretting that her engagement was at the Pantheon, -as her evidently fine ideas of acting are thrown away at a mere concert.</p> - -<p>At this, she made faces of such scorn and derision against the -managers, for not putting her upon the stage, that they altered her -handsome countenance almost to ugliness; and, snatching up a music -book, and opening it, and holding it full broad in her hands, she dropt -a formal courtesy, to take herself off at the Pantheon, and said; -‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Oui! j’y suis là comme une statue! comme une petite ecolière!</i>’ And -afterwards she contemptuously added: ‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Mais, on n’aime e guerre ici que -les rondeaux!—Moi—j’abhorre ces miseres là!</i>’</p> - -<p>One objection, however, and a rather serious one, against her walking -the stage, is that she limps.</p> - -<p>Do you know what they assert to be the cause of this lameness? It -is said that, while a mere baby, and at nurse in the country, she was -left rolling on the grass one evening, till she rolled herself round -and round to a pigstie; where a hideous hog welcomed her as a delicious -repast, and mangled one side of the poor infant most cruelly, before -she was missed and rescued. She was recovered with great difficulty; -but obliged to bear the insertion of a plate - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 32]</span> - -of silver, to sustain the parts where the terrible swine had made a -chasm; and thence she has been called ... I forget the Italian name, -but that which has been adopted here is Silver-sides.</p> - -<p>“You may imagine that the wags of the day do not let such a -circumstance, belonging to so famous a person, pass unmadrigalled: -Foote, my father tells us, has declared he shall impeach the -custom-house officers, for letting her be smuggled into the kingdom -contrary to law; unless her sides have been entered at the stamp -office. And Lord Sandwich has made a catch, in dialogue and in Italian, -between the infant and the hog, where the former, in a plaintive tone -of soliciting mercy, cries; ‘<i lang="it">Caro mio Porco!</i>’ The hog answers by -a grunt. Her piteous entreaty is renewed in the softest, tenderest -treble. His sole reply is expressed in one long note of the lowest, -deepest bass. Some of her highest notes are then ludicrously imitated -to vocalize little shrieks; and the hog, in finale, grunts out, ‘<i lang="it">Ah! -che bel mangiar!</i>’</p> - -<p>“Lord Sandwich, who shewed this to my father, had, at least, the grace -to say, that he would not have it printed, lest it should get to her -knowledge, till after her return to Italy.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 33]</span></p> - -<p>The radical and scientific merits of this singular personage, and -astonishing performer, are fully expounded in the History of Music. She -left England with great contempt for the land of Rondeaux; and never -desired to visit it again.</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<h3 class="nobreak">LA GABRIELLI.</h3> - -<p>Of the person and performance of Gabrielli, the History of Music -contains a full and luminous description. She was the most universally -renowned singer of her time; for Agujari died before her high and -unexampled talents had expanded their truly wonderful supremacy.</p> - -<p>Yet here, also, no private detail can be written of the private -performance, or manners, of La Gabrielli, as she never visited at -the house of Dr. Burney; though she most courteously invited him to -her own; in which she received him with flattering distinction. And, -as she had the judgment to set aside, upon his visits, the airs, -caprices, coquetries, and gay insolences, of which the boundless -report had preceded her arrival in England, he found her a high-bred, -accomplished, and engaging woman of the world; or rather, he said, -woman of fashion; - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 34]</span> - -for there was a winning ease, nay, captivation, in her look and air, -that could scarcely, in any circle, be surpassed. Her great celebrity, -however, for beauty and eccentricity, as well as for professional -excellence, had raised such inordinate expectations before she came -out, that the following juvenile letters upon the appearance of so -extraordinary a musical personage, will be curious,—or, at least, -diverting, to lovers of musical anecdote.</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<h3 class="nobreak">CONCERT.—EXTRACT IV.</h3> - -<p class="center smcap">To Samuel Crisp, Esq.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Chesington.</i></p> - -<p class="sig-right5 smaller"><i>October, 1775.</i></p> - -<p class="pindent1">“My dear Mr. Crisp,<br /></p> - -<p class="pindent2">“‘Tis so long since I have written, that I suppose you conclude we are -all gone fortune-hunting to some other planet; but, to skip apologies, -which I know you scoff, I shall atone for my silence, by telling you -that my dear father returned from Buxton in quite restored health, I -thank God! and that his first volume is now rough-sketched quite to the -end, Preface and Dedication inclusive.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 35]</span></p> - -<p>“But you are vehement, you say, to hear of Gabrielli.</p> - -<p>“Well, so is every body else; but she has not yet sung.</p> - -<p>“She is the subject of inquiry and discussion wherever you go. Every -one expects her to sing like a thousand angels, yet to be as ridiculous -as a thousand imps. But I believe she purposes to astonish them all in -a new way; for imagine how sober and how English she means to become, -when I tell you that she has taken a house in Golden-square, and put a -plate upon her door, on which she has had engraven, “Mrs. Gabrielli.”</p> - -<p>“If John Bull is not flattered by that, he must be John Bear.</p> - -<p>“Rauzzini, meanwhile, who is to be the first serious singer, has taken -precisely the other side; and will have nothing to do with his Johnship -at all; for he has had his apartments painted a beautiful rose-colour, -with a light myrtle sprig border; and has ornamented them with little -knic-knacs and trinkets, like a fine lady’s dressing-room.</p> - -<p>My father dined with them both the other day, at the manager’s, Mrs. -Brookes, the author, and Mrs. Yates, the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">ci-devant</i> actress. Rauzzini -sang a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 36]</span> - -great many sweet airs, and very delightfully; but Gabrielli not a note! -Neither did any one presume to ask for such a favour. Her sister was of -the party also, who they say cannot sing at all; but Gabrielli insisted -upon having her engaged, and advantageously, or refused, peremptorily, -to come over.</p> - -<p>“Nothing can exceed the impatience of people of all ranks, and all ways -of thinking, concerning this so celebrated singer. And if you do not -come to town to hear her, I shall conclude you lost to all the Saint -Cecilian powers of attraction; and that you are become as indifferent -to music, as to dancing or to horse-racing. For my own part, if any -thing should unfortunately prevent my hearing her first performance, -I shall set it down in my memory ever after, as a very serious -misfortune. Don’t laugh so, dear daddy, pray!<br /><br /></p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center"><i>Written the week following.</i></p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>“How I rejoice, for once, in your hard-heartedness! how ashamed -I should have been if you had come, dearest Sir, to my call! The -Gabrielli did not sing! And she let all London, and all the country -too, I believe, arrive at the theatre before it - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 37]</span> - -was proclaimed that she was not to appear! Every one of our family, and -of every other family that I know,—and that I don’t know besides, -were at the Opera House at an early hour. We, who were to enter at a -private door, per favour of Mrs. Brookes, rushed past all handbills, -not thinking them worth heeding. Poor Mr. Yates, the manager, kept -running from one outlet to another, to relate the sudden desperate -hoarseness of la Signora Gabrielli; and, supplicate patience, and, -moreover, credence,—now from the box openings, now from the pit, -now from the galleries. Had he been less active, or less humble, it is -thought the theatre would have been pulled down; so prodigious was the -rage of the large assemblage; none of them in the least believing that -Gabrielli had the slightest thing the matter with her.</p> - -<p>“My father says people do not think that singers have the capacity of -having such a thing as a cold!</p> - -<p>“The murmurs, ‘What a shame!’—‘how scandalous!’—‘what insolent -airs!’—kept Mr. Yates upon the alert from post to post, to the utmost -stretch of his ability; though his dolorous countenance painted his -full conviction that he himself was the most seriously to be pitied of -the party; for it was clear that he said, in soliloquy, upon every one - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 38]</span> - -that he sent away: ‘There goes half a guinea!—or, at the least, -three shillings,—if not five, out of my pocket!’</p> - -<p>“We all returned home in horrible ill-humour; but solacing ourselves -with a candid determination, taken in a true spirit of liberality, that -though she should sing even better than Agujari, we would not like her!</p> - -<p>My father called upon the managers to know what all this meant; and -Mrs. Brookes then told him, that all that had been reported of the -extraordinary wilfulness of this spoilt child of talent and beauty, was -exceeded by her behaviour. She only sent them word that she was out of -voice, and could not sing, one hour before the house must be opened! -They instantly hurried to her to expostulate, or rather to supplicate, -for they dare neither reproach nor command; and to represent the utter -impossibility of getting up any other opera so late; and to acknowledge -their terror, even for their property, upon the fury of an English -audience, if disappointed so bluffly at the last moment.</p> - -<p>To this she answered very coolly, but with smiles and politeness, -that if <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">le monde</i> expected her so eagerly, she would dress herself, -and let the opera - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 39]</span> - -be performed; only, when her songs came to their symphony, instead of -singing, she would make a courtesy, and point to her throat.</p> - -<p>“‘You may imagine, Doctor,’ said Mrs. Brookes, ‘whether we could trust -John Bull with so easy a lady! and at the very instant his ears were -opening to hear her so vaunted performance!’</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>“Well, my dear Mr. Crisp, now for Saturday, and now for the real -opera. We all went again. There was a prodigious house; such a one, -for fashion at least, as, before Christmas, never yet was seen. For -though every body was afraid there would be a riot, and that Gabrielli -would be furiously hissed, from the spleen of the late disappointment, -nobody could stay away; for her whims and eccentricities only heighten -curiosity for beholding her person.</p> - -<p>“The opera was Metastasio’s Didone, and the part for Gabrielli was new -set by Sacchini.</p> - -<p>“In the first scene, Rauzzini and Sestini appeared with la Signora -Francesca, the sister of Gabrielli. They prepared us for the approach -of the blazing comet that burst forth in the second.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 40]</span></p> - -<p>“Nothing could be more noble than her entrance. It seemed -instantaneously to triumph over her enemies, and conquer her -threateners. The stage was open to its furthest limits, and she -was discerned at its most distant point; and, for a minute or two, -there dauntlessly she stood; and then took a sweep, with a firm, but -accelerating step; and a deep, finely flowing train, till she reached -the orchestra. There she stopt, amidst peals of applause, that seemed -as if they would have shaken the foundations of the theatre.</p> - -<p>“What think you now of John Bull?</p> - -<p>“I had quite quivered for her, in expectation of cat-calling and -hissings; but the intrepidity of her appearance and approach, quashed -all his resentment into surprised admiration.</p> - -<p>“She is still very pretty, though not still very young. She has small, -intelligent, sparkling features; and though she is rather short, she -is charmingly proportioned, and has a very engaging figure. All her -notions are graceful, her air is full of dignity, and her walk is -majestic.</p> - -<p>“Though the applause was so violent, she seemed to think it so simply -her due, that she deigned not to honour it with the slightest mark of -acknowledgment, but calmly began her song.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 41]</span></p> - -<p>“John Bull, however, enchained, as I believe, by the reported vagaries -of her character, and by the high delight he expected from her talents, -clapped on,—clap, clap, clap!—with such assiduous noise, that not a -note could be heard, nor a <em>notion</em> be started that any note was sung. -Unwilling, then,</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center smaller">“To waste her sweetness on the clamorous air,”</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>and perhaps growing a little gratified to find she could “soothe the -savage breast,” she condescended to make an Italian courtesy, <em>i.e.</em> a -slight, but dignified bow.</p> - -<p>“Honest John, who had thought she would not accept his homage, but -who, through the most abrupt turn from resentment to admiration, -had resolved to bear with all her freaks, was so enchanted by this -affability, that clapping he went on, till, I have little doubt, the -skin of his battered hands went off; determining to gain another gentle -salutation whether she would or not, as an august sign that she was not -displeased with him for being so smitten, and so humble.</p> - -<p>“After this, he suffered the orchestra to be heard.</p> - -<p>“Gabrielli, however, was not flattered into spoiling her flatterers. -Probably she liked the spoiling - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 42]</span> - -too well to make it over to them. Be that as it may, she still kept -expectation on the rack, by giving us only recitative, till every other -performer had tired our reluctant attention.</p> - -<p>“At length, however, came the grand bravura, ‘<i lang="it">Son Regina, e sono -Amante</i>.’</p> - -<p>“Here I must stop!—Ah, Mr. Crisp! why would she take words that had -been sung by Agujari?</p> - -<p>“Opinions are so different, you must come and judge for yourself. -Praise and censure are bandied backwards and forwards, as if they were -two shuttlecocks between two battledores. The <i lang="it">Son Regina</i> was the only -air of consequence that she even attempted; all else were but bits; -pretty enough, but of no force or character for a great singer.</p> - -<p>“How unfortunate that she should take the words, even though to other -music, that we had heard from Agujari!—Oh! She is no Agujari!</p> - -<p>“In short, and to come to the truth, she disappointed us all -egregiously.</p> - -<p>However, my dear father, who beyond any body tempers his judgment with -indulgence, pronounces her a very capital singer.</p> - -<p>“But she visibly took no pains to exert herself, and appeared so -impertinently easy, that I believe - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 43]</span> - -she thought it condescension enough for us poor savage Islanders to see -her stand upon the stage, and let us look at her. Yet it must at least -be owned, that the tone of her voice, though feeble, is remarkably -sweet; that her action is judicious and graceful, and that her style -and manner of singing are masterly.”</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<h3 class="nobreak">CONCERT.—EXTRACT V.</h3> - -<p>“You reproach me, my dear Mr. Crisp, for not sending you an account of -our last two concerts. But the fact is, I have not any thing new to -tell you. The music has always been the same: the matrimonial duets are -so much <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">à-la-mode</i>, that no other thing in our house is now demanded.</p> - -<p>“But if I can write you nothing new about music—you want, I well know -you will say, to hear some conversations.</p> - -<p>“My dear Mr. Crisp, there is, at this moment, no such thing as -conversation. There is only one question asked, meet whom you may, -namely; ‘How do you like Gabrielli?’ and only two modes, contradictory -to be sure, but very steady, of reply: either, ‘Of all things upon -earth!’ or, ‘Not the least bit in the whole world!’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 44]</span></p> - -<p>“Well, now I will present you with a specimen, beginning with our last -concert but one, and arranging the persons of the drama in the order of -their actual appearance.</p> - -<p>“But imprimis, I should tell you, that the motive to this concert was -a particular request to my father from Dr. King, our old friend, and -the chaplain to the British—something—at St. Petersburgh, that he -would give a little music to a certain mighty personage, who, somehow -or other how, must needs take, transiently at least, a front place in -future history,—namely, the famed favourite of the Empress Catherine -of Russia, Prince Orloff.</p> - -<p>“There, my dear Mr. Crisp! what say you to seeing such a doughty -personage as that in a private house, at a private party, of a private -individual, fresh imported from the Czarina of all the Russias,—to sip -a cup of tea in St. Martin’s-Street?</p> - -<p>“I wonder whether future historians will happen to mention this -circumstance? I am thinking of sending it to all the keepers of records.</p> - -<p>“But I see your rising eyebrow at this name—your start—your -disgust—yet big curiosity.</p> - -<p>“Well, suppose the family assembled, its honoured chief in the -midst—and Tat, tat, tat, tat, at the door.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 45]</span></p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Ogle, Dean of Winchester</span>.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>“<i>Dr. Burney</i>, after the usual ceremonies.—‘Did you hear the Gabrielli -last night, Mr. Dean?’</p> - -<p>“<i>The Dean.</i>—‘No, Doctor, I made the attempt, but soon retreated; for -I hate a crowd,—as much as the ladies love it!—I beg pardon!’ bowing -with a sort of civil sneer at we Fair Sex.</p> - -<p>“My mother was entering upon a spirited defence, when—Tat, tat, tat.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. King</span>.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>“He brought the compliments of Prince Orloff, with his Highness’s -apologies for being so late, but he was obliged to dine at Lord -Buckingham’s, and thence, to shew himself at Lady Harrington’s.</p> - -<p>“As nobody thought of inquiring into Dr. King’s opinion of La -Gabrielli, conversation was at a stand, till—Tat, tat, tat, tat, too, -and</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center">“<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Edgcumbe</span>.</p> - -<p>“We were all introduced to her, and she was very chatty, courteous, and -entertaining.</p> - -<p>“<i>Dr. Burney.</i>—‘Your Ladyship was certainly at the Opera last night?’</p> - -<p>“<i>Lady Edgcumbe.</i>—‘O yes!—but I have not heard the Gabrielli! I -cannot allow that I have yet heard her.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 46]</span></p> - -<p>“<i>Dr. Burney.</i>—‘Your Ladyship expected a more powerful voice?’</p> - -<p>“<i>Lady Edgcumbe.</i>—‘Why n-o—not much. The shadow can tell what the -substance must be; but she cannot have acquired this great reputation -throughout Europe for nothing. I therefore repeat that I have not -yet heard her. She must have had a cold.—But, for me—I have heard -Mingotti!—I have heard Montecelli!—I have heard Mansuoli!—and I -shall never hear them again!’</p> - -<p>“<i>The Dean.</i>—‘But, Lady Edgcumbe, may not Gabrielli have great powers, -and yet have too weak a voice for so large a theatre?’</p> - -<p>“<i>Lady Edgcumbe.</i>—‘Our theatre, Mr. Dean, is of no size to what she -has been accustomed to abroad. But,—Dr. Burney, I have also heard the -Agujari!’</p> - -<p>“<i>Hettina</i>, <i>Fanny</i>, <i>Susanna</i>.—‘Oh! Agujari!’ (All three speaking -with clasped hands.)</p> - -<p>“<i>Dr. Burney</i> (laughing).—‘Your ladyship darts into all their hearts -by naming Agujari! However, I have hopes you <em>will</em> hear her again.’</p> - -<p>“<i>Lady Edgcumbe.</i>—‘O, Dr. Burney! bring her but to the Opera,—and I -shall grow crazy!’</p> - -<p>“I assure you, my dear Mr. Crisp, we all longed - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 47]</span> - -to embrace her ladyship. And she met our sympathy with a good-humour -full of pleasure. My father added, that we all doated upon Agujari.</p> - -<p>“<i>Lady Edgcumbe.</i>—‘O! she is incomparable!—Mark but the difference, -Dr. Burney; by Gabrielli, Rauzzini seems to have a great voice;—by -Agujari, he seemed to have that of a child.’—</p> - -<p>“Tat, tat, tat, tat, too.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center">“<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">The Hon. Mr.</span> and <span class="smcap">Mrs. Brudenel</span>.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>“Mr. Brudenell,<a name="FNanchor_7" id="FNanchor_7"></a><a -href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> commonly called ‘His -Honour,’ from high birth, I suppose, without title, or from some quaint -old cause that nobody knows who has let me into its secret, is tall and -stiff, and strongly in the <em>ton</em> of the present day; which is anything -rather than macaroniism; for it consists of unbounded freedom and -ease, with a short, abrupt, dry manner of speech; and in taking the -liberty to ask any question that occurs upon other people’s affairs and -opinions; even upon their incomes and expences;—nay, even upon -their age!</p> - -<p>“Did you ever hear of any thing so shocking?</p> - -<p>“I do not much mind it now; but, when I grow older, I intend -recommending to have this part of their code abolished.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 48]</span></p> - -<p>“Mrs. Brudenel is very obliging and pleasing; and of as great fame as a -lady singer, as Lady Edgcumbe is as a first rate lady player.</p> - -<p>“The usual question being asked of La Gabrielli;</p> - -<p>“_Mrs. Brudenel._—‘O, Lady Edgcumbe and I are entirely of the same -opinion; we agree that we have not yet heard her.’</p> - -<p>“_Lady Edgcumbe._—‘The ceremony of her quitting the theatre after the -opera is over, is extremely curious. First goes a man in livery to -clear the way; then follows the sister; then the Gabrielli herself. -Then, a little foot-page, to bear her train; and, lastly, another man, -who carries her muff, in which is her lap-dog.’</p> - -<p>“<i>Mr. Brudenel.</i>—‘But where is Lord March all this time?’</p> - -<p>“<i>Lady Edgcumbe</i> (laughing).—‘Lord March? O,——he, you know, is First -Lord of the Bedchamber!’—</p> - -<p>“Tat, tat, tat, tat.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center">“<i>Enter</i> M. le <span class="smcap">Baron de Demidoff</span>.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>“He is a Russian nobleman, who travels with Prince Orloff; and -he preceded his Highness with fresh apologies, and a desire that -the concert might not wait, as he would only shew himself at Lady -Harrington’s, and hasten hither.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 49]</span></p> - -<p>“My father then attended Lady Edgcumbe to the Library, and Mr. Burney -took his place at the harpsichord.</p> - -<p>“We all followed. He was extremely admired; but I have nothing new to -tell you upon that subject.</p> - -<p>“Then enter Mr. Chamier. Then followed several others; and then</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center">“<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mr. Harris</span>, <i>of Salisbury</i>.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>“Susan and I quite delighted in his sight, he is so amiable to talk -with, and so benevolent to look at. Lady Edgcumbe rose to meet him, -saying he was her particular old friend. He then placed himself by -Susan and me, and renewed acquaintance in the most pleasing manner -possible. I told him we were all afraid he would be tired to death of -so much of one thing, for we had nothing to offer him but again the -duet. ‘That is the very reason I solicited to come,’ he answered; ‘I -was so much charmed the last time, that I begged Dr. Burney to give me -a repetition of the same pleasure.’</p> - -<p>“‘Then—of course, the opera? The Gabrielli?’</p> - -<p>“Mr. Harris declared himself her partizan.</p> - -<p>“Lady Edgcumbe warmed up ardently for Agajari.</p> - -<p>“<i>Mr. Dean.</i>—‘But pray, Dr. Burney, why should not these two -melodious signoras sing together, that we might judge them fairly?’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 50]</span></p> - -<p>“<i>Dr. Burney.</i>—‘Oh! the rivalry would be too strong. It would create a -musical war. It would be Cæsar and Pompey.’</p> - -<p>“<i>Lady Edgcumbe.</i>—‘Pompey the Little, then, I am sure would be la -Gabrielli!’</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center">“<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Lord Bruce</span>.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>“He is a younger brother not only of the Duke of Montagu, but of his -Honour Brudenel. How the titles came to be so awkwardly arranged in -this family is no affair of mine; so you will excuse my sending you to -the Herald’s Office, if you want that information, my dear Mr. Crisp; -though as you are one of the rare personages who are skilled in every -thing yourself,—at least so says my father;—and he is a Doctor, you -know!—I dare say you will genealogize the matter to me at once, when -next I come to dear Chesington.</p> - -<p>“He is tall, thin, and plain, but remarkably sensible, agreeable, -and polite; as, I believe, are very generally all those keen looking -Scotchmen; for Scotch, not from his accent, but his name, I conclude -him of course. Can Bruce be other than Scotch? They are far more -entertaining, I think, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 51]</span> - -as well as informing, taken in the common run, than we silentious -English; who, taken <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">en masse</i>, are tolerably dull.</p> - -<p>“The Opera?—the Gabrielli?—were now again brought forward. Lady -Edgcumbe, who is delightfully music mad, was so animated, that she was -quite the life of the company.</p> - -<p>“At length—Tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, too!</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center">“<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">His Highness Prince Orloff</span>.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>“Have you heard the dreadful story of the thumb, by which this terrible -Prince is said to have throttled the late Emperor of Russia, Peter, by -suddenly pressing his windpipe while he was drinking? I hope it is not -true; and Dr. King, of whom, while he resided in Russia, Prince Orloff -was the patron, denies the charge. Nevertheless, it is so currently -reported, that neither Susan nor I could keep it one moment from our -thoughts; and we both shrunk from him with secret horror, heartily -wishing him in his own Black Sea.</p> - -<p>“His sight, however, produced a strong sensation, both in those who -believed, and those who discredited this disgusting barbarity; for -another story, not perhaps, of less real, though of less sanguinary - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 52] </span> - -guilt, is not a tale of rumour, but a crime of certainty; namely, that -he is the first favourite of the cruel inhuman Empress—if it be true -that she connived at this horrible murder.</p> - -<p>“His Highness was immediately preceded by another Russian nobleman, -whose name I have forgot; and followed by a noble Hessian, General Bawr.</p> - -<p>“Prince Orloff is of stupendous stature, something resembling Mr. -Bruce. He is handsome, tall, fat, upright, magnificent. His dress -was superb. Besides the blue garter, he had a star of diamonds of -prodigious brilliancy, a shoulder knot of the same lustre and value, -and a picture of the Empress hung about his neck, set round with -diamonds of such brightness and magnitude, that, when near the light, -they were too dazzling for the eye. His jewels, Dr. King says, are -estimated at one hundred thousand pounds sterling.</p> - -<p>“His air and address are shewy, striking, and assiduously courteous. -He had a look that frequently seemed to say, ‘I hope you observe that -I come from a polished court?—I hope you take note that I am no -Cossack?’—Yet, with all this display of commanding affability, he -seems, from his native - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 53]</span> - -taste and humour, ‘agreeably addicted to pleasantry.’ He speaks very -little English, but knows French perfectly.</p> - -<p>“His introduction to my father, in which Dr. King pompously figured, -passed in the drawing-room. The library was so crowded, that he could -only show himself at the door, which was barely high enough not to -discompose his prodigious toupee.</p> - -<p>“He bowed to Mr. Chamier, then my next neighbour, whom he had somewhere -met; but I was so impressed by the shocking rumours of his horrible -actions, that involuntarily I drew back even from a bow of vicinity; -murmuring to Mr. Chamier, ‘He looks so potent and mighty, I do not like -to be near him!’</p> - -<p>“‘He has been less unfortunate,’ answered Mr. Chamier, archly, -‘elsewhere; such objection has not been made to him by all ladies!’</p> - -<p>“Lord Bruce, who knew, immediately rose to make way for him, and -moved to another end of the room. The Prince instantly held out his -vast hand, in which, if he had also held a cambric handkerchief, it -must have looked like a white flag on the top of a mast,—so much -higher than the most tip-top - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 54]</span> - -height of every head in the room was his spread out arm, as he -exclaimed, ‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Ah! mi lord me fuit!</i>’</p> - -<p>“His Honour, then, rising also, with a profound reverence, offered -his seat to his Highness; but he positively refused to accept it, and -declared, that if Mr. Brudenel would not be seated, he would himself -retire; and seeing Mr. Brudenel demur, still begging his Highness to -take the chair, he cried with a laugh, but very peremptorily, ‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Non, -non, Monsieur! Je ne le veux pas! Je suis opiniatre, moi;—un peu comme -Messieurs les Anglais!</i>’</p> - -<p>“Mr. Brudenel then re-seated himself: and the corner of a form -appearing to be vacant, from the pains taken by poor Susan to shrink -away from Mr. Orloff, his Highness suddenly dropped down upon it his -immense weight, with a force—notwithstanding a palpable and studied -endeavour to avoid doing mischief—that threatened his gigantic person -with plumping upon the floor; and terrified all on the opposite side of -the form with the danger of visiting the ceiling.</p> - -<p>“Perceiving Susan strive, though vainly, from want of space, to glide -further off from him, and struck, perhaps, by her sweet countenance, -‘<em>Ah</em>, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 55]</span> - -<em>ha!</em>’ he cried, ‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Je tiens ici, Je vois, une petite -Prisonnière?!</i>’</p> - -<p>“Charlotte, blooming like a budding little Hebe, actually stole into a -corner, from affright at the whispered history of his thumb ferocity.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Chamier, who now probably had developed what passed in my mind, -contrived, very comically, to disclose his similar sentiment; for, -making a quiet way to my ear, he said, in a low voice, ‘I wish Dr. -Burney had invited Omiah here tonight, instead of Prince Orloff!’ -Meaning, no doubt, of the two exotics, he should have preferred the -most innocent!</p> - -<p>“The grand duet of Müthel was now called for, and played. But I can -tell you nothing extra of the admiration it excited. Your Hettina -looked remarkably pretty; and, added to the applause given to the -music, every body had something to observe upon the singularity of the -performers being husband and wife. Prince Orloff was witty quite to -facetiousness; sarcastically marking something beyond what he said, by -a certain ogling, half cynical, half amorous, cast of his eyes; and -declaring he should take care to initiate all the foreign academies - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 56]</span> - -of natural philosophy, in the secret of the harmony that might be -produced by such nuptial concord.</p> - -<p>“The Russian nobleman who accompanied Prince Orloff, and who knew -English, they told us, so well that he was the best interpreter for his -Highness in his visits, gave us now a specimen of his proficiency; for, -clapping his fore finger upon a superfine snuffbox, he exclaimed, when -the duet was finished, ‘Ma foi, dis is so pretty as never I hear in my -life!’</p> - -<p>“General Bawr, also, to whom Mr. Harris directed my attention, was -greatly charmed. He is tall, and of stern and martial aspect. ‘He is a -man,’ said Mr. Harris, ‘<em>to be looked at</em>, from his courage, conduct, -and success during the last Russian war; when, though a Hessian by -birth, he was a Lieutenant General in the service of the Empress of -Russia; and obtained the two military stars, which you now see him wear -on each side, by his valour.’</p> - -<p>“But the rapture of Lady Edgcumbe was more lively than that of any -other. ‘Oh, Doctor Burney,’ she cried, ‘you have set me a madding! I -would willingly practice night and day to be able to perform in such -a manner. I vow I would rather hear that extraordinary duet played in -that extraordinary manner, than twenty operas!’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 57]</span></p> - -<p>“Her ladyship was now introduced to Prince Orloff, whom she had not -happened to meet with before; and they struck up a most violent -flirtation together. She invited him to her house, and begged leave to -send him a card. He accepted the invitation, but begged leave to fetch -the card in person. She should be most happy, she said, to receive him, -for though she had but a small house, she had a great ambition. And so -they went on, in gallant courtesie, till, once again, the question was -brought back of the opera, and the Gabrielli.</p> - -<p>“The Prince declared that she had not by any means sang as well as at -St. Petersburgh; and General Bawr protested that, had he shut his eyes, -he should not again have known her.</p> - -<p>“Then followed, to vary the entertainment, singing by Mrs. Brudenel.</p> - -<p>“Prince Orloff inquired very particularly of Dr. King, who we four -young female Burneys were; for we were all dressed alike, on account of -our mourning; and when Dr. King answered, ‘Dr. Burney’s daughters;’ she -was quite astonished; for he had not thought our dear father, he said, -more than thirty years of age; if so much.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Harris, in a whisper, told me he wished some - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 58]</span> - -of the ladies would desire to see the miniature of the Empress a little -nearer; the monstrous height of the Prince putting it quite out of view -to his old eyes and short figure; and <em>being a man</em>, he could not, he -said, presume to ask such an indulgence as that of holding it in his -own hands.</p> - -<p>“Delighted to do any thing for this excellent Mr. Harris, and quite at -my ease with poor prosing Dr. King, I told him the wish of Mr. Harris.</p> - -<p>“Dr. King whispered the desire to M. de Demidoff; M. de Demidoff did -the same to General de Bawr; and General de Bawr dauntlessly made the -petition to the Prince, in the name of <em>The Ladies</em>.</p> - -<p>“The Prince laughed, rather sardonically; yet with ready good-humour -complied; telling the General, pretty much <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">sans ceremonie</i>, to untie -the ribbon round his neck, and give the picture into the possession of -The Ladies.</p> - -<p>“He was very gallant and <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">debonnaire</i> upon the occasion, entreating -they would by no means hurry themselves; yet his smile, as his eye -sharply followed the progress, from hand to hand, of the miniature, had -a suspicious cast of investigating whether it would be worth his while -to ask any favour of them - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 59]</span> - -in return! and through all the superb magnificence of his display of -courtly manners, a little bit of the Cossack, methought, broke out, -when he desired to know whether <em>The Ladies</em> wished for any thing else? -declaring, with a smiling bow, and rolling, languishing, yet half -contemptuous eyes, that, if <em>The Ladies</em> would issue their commands, -they should strip him entirely!</p> - -<p>“You may suppose, after that, nobody asked for a closer view of any -more of his ornaments! The good, yet unaffectedly humorous philosopher -of Salisbury, could not help laughing, even while actually blushing at -it, that his own curiosity should have involved <em>The Ladies</em> in this -supercilious sort of sarcastic homage.</p> - -<p>“There was hardly any looking at the picture of the Empress for the -glare of the diamonds. One of them, I really believe, was as big as -a nutmeg: though I am somewhat ashamed to undignify my subject by so -culinary a comparison.</p> - -<p>“When we were all satisfied, the miniature was restored by -General Bawr to the Prince, who took it with stately complacency; -condescendingly making a smiling bow to each fair female who had had - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 60]</span> - -possession of it; and receiving from her in return a lowly courtesy.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Harris, who was the most curious to see the Empress, because -his son, Sir James,<a name="FNanchor_8" id="FNanchor_8"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> was, or is intended to be, -minister at her court, had slyly looked over every shoulder that held -her; but would not venture, he archly whispered, to take the picture in -his own hands, lest he should be included, by the Prince, amongst <em>The -Ladies</em>, as an old woman!</p> - -<p>“Have you had enough of this concert, my dear Mr. Crisp? I have given -it in detail, for the humour of letting you see how absorbing of the -public voice is La Gabrielli: and, also, for describing to you Prince -Orloff; a man who, when time lets out facts, and drives in mysteries, -must necessarily make a considerable figure, good or bad—but certainly -not indifferent,—in European history. Besides, I want your opinion, -whether there is not an odd and striking resemblance in general -manners, as well as in Herculean strength and height, in this Siberian -Prince and his Abyssinian Majesty?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 61]</span></p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<h3 class="nobreak">CONCERT.—EXTRACT THE SIXTH.</h3> - -<p class="sig-left2">“My dear Mr. Crisp.</p> - -<p>“I must positively talk to you again of the sweet Baroness Deiden, -though I am half afraid to write you any more details of our Duet -Concerts, lest they should tire your patience as much as my fingers. -But you will be pleased to hear that they are still <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">à-la-mode</i>. We -have just had another at the request of M. le Comte de Guignes, the -French ambassador, delivered by Lady Edgcumbe; who not only came again -her lively self, but brought her jocose and humorous lord; who seems as -sportive and as fond of a <em>hoax</em> as any tar who walks the quarter-deck; -and as cleverly gifted for making, as he is gaily disposed for enjoying -one. They were both full of good-humour and spirits, and we liked them -amazingly. They have not a grain of what you style the torpor of the -times.</p> - -<p>Lady Edgcumbe was so transported by Müthel, that when her lord -emitted a little cough, though it did not find vent till he had half -stifled himself to check it, she called out, ‘What do you do here, my -Lord, coughing? We don’t want that accompaniment.’ I wish you could -have seen how drolly he - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 62]</span> - -looked. I am sure he was full primed with a ready repartee. But her -ladyship was so intently in ecstacy, and he saw us all round so -intently admiring her enthusiasm, that I verily believe he thought it -would not be safe to interrupt the performance, even with the best -witticism of his merry imagination.</p> - -<p>“We had also, for contrast, the new Groom of the Stole, Lord -Ashburnham, with his key of gold dangling from his pocket. He is -elegant and pleasing, though silent and reserved; and just as -scrupulously high-bred, as Lord Edgcumbe is frolicsomely facetious.</p> - -<p>“But, my dear Mr. Crisp, we had again the bewitching Danish -ambassadress, the Baroness Deiden, and her polite husband, the Baron. -She is really one of the most delightful creatures in this lower world, -if she is not one of the most deceitful. We were more charmed with her -than ever. I wonder whether Ophelia was like her? or, rather, I have no -doubt but she was just such another. So musical, too! The Danish Court -was determined to show us that our great English bard knew what he was -about, when he drew so attractive a Danish female. The Baron seems as -sensible of her merit as if he were another Hamlet himself—though that - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 63]</span> - -is no man I ever yet saw! She speaks English very prettily; as she -can’t help, I believe, doing whatever she sets about. She said to my -father, ‘How good you were, Sir, to remember us! We are very much -oblige indeed.’ And then to my sister, ‘I have heard <em>no music</em> since I -was here last!’</p> - -<p>“We had also Lord Barrington, brother to my father’s good friend -Daines, and to the excellent Bishop of Salisbury.<a name="FNanchor_9" id="FNanchor_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a>. -His lordship, as you know, is universally reckoned clever, witty, -penetrating, and shrewd. But he bears this high character any where -rather than in his air and look, which by no means pronounce his -superiority of their own accord. Doubtless, however, he has ‘that -within which passeth shew;’ for there is only one voice as to his -talents and merit.</p> - -<p>“His Honour, Mr. Brudenel,—but I will not again run over the names of -the duplicates from the preceding concerts. I will finish my list with -Lord Sandwich.</p> - -<p>“And most welcome he made himself to us, in entering the -drawing-room, by giving intelligence that he had just heard from the -circumnavigators, and that our dear James was well.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 64]</span></p> - -<p>“Lord Sandwich is a tall, stout man, and looks as furrowed and -weather-proof as any sailor in the navy; and, like most of the old -set of that brave tribe, he has good nature and joviality marked in -every feature. I want to know why he is called Jemmy Twitcher in the -newspapers? Do pray tell me that?</p> - -<p>“But why do I prepare for closing my account, before I mention him -for whom it was opened? namely, M. le Comte de Guignes, the French -ambassador.</p> - -<p>“He was looked upon, when he first came over, as one of the handsomest -of men, as well as one of the most gallant; and his conquests amongst -the fair dames of the court were in proportion with those two -circumstances. I hope, therefore, now,—as I am no well-wisher to these -sort of conquerors,—that his defeats, in future, will counter-balance -his victories; for he is grown so fat, and looks so sleek and supine, -that I think the tender tribe will hence-forward be in complete safety, -and may sing, in full chorus, while viewing him,<br /><br /></p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center smaller">“‘Sigh no more, Ladies, sigh no more!’<br /><br /></p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>“He was, however, very civil, and seemed well entertained; though -he left an amusing laugh behind him from the pomposity of his exit; -for not - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 65]</span> - -finding, upon quitting the music room, with an abrupt <em>French leave</em>, -half a dozen of our lackeys waiting to anticipate his orders; half a -dozen of those gentlemen not being positively at hand; he indignantly -and impatiently called out aloud: ‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Mes gens! où sont mes gens? Que -sont ils donc devenu? Mes gens! Je dis! Mes gens!</i>’</p> - -<p>“Previously to this, the duet had gone off with its usual eclât.</p> - -<p>“Lord Sandwich then expressed an earnest desire to hear the Baroness -play: but she would not listen to him, and seemed vexed to be -entreated, saying to my sister Hettina, who joined his lordship in the -solicitation, ‘Oh yes! it will be very pretty, indeed, after all this -so fine music, to see me play a little minuet!’</p> - -<p>“Lord Sandwich applied to my father to aid his petition; but my -father, though he wished himself to hear the Baroness again, did not -like to tease her, when he saw her modesty of refusal was real; and -consequently, that overcoming it would be painful. I am sure I could -not have pressed her for the world! But Lord Sandwich, who, I suppose, -is heart of oak, was not so scrupulous, and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 66]</span> - -hovered over her, and would not desist; though turning her head away -from him, and waving her hand to distance him, she earnestly said: ‘I -beg—I beg, my lord!—’</p> - -<p>“Lord Barrington then, who, we found, was an intimate acquaintance of -the ambassador’s, attempted to seize the waving hand; conjuring her to -consent to let him lead her to the instrument.</p> - -<p>“But she hastily drew in her hand, and exclaimed: ‘Fie, fie, my lord -Barrington!—so ill natured!—I should not think was you! Besides, you -have heard me so often.’</p> - -<p>“‘Madame la Baronne,’ replied he, with vivacity, ‘I want you to play -precisely because Lord Sandwich has not heard you, and because I have!’</p> - -<p>“All, however, was in vain, till the Baron came forward, and said to -her, ‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Ma chère</i>—you had better play something—anything—than give -such a trouble.’</p> - -<p>“She instantly arose, saying with a little reluctant shrug, but -accompanied by a very sweet smile, ‘Now this looks just as if I was -like to be so much pressed!’</p> - -<p>“She then played a slow movement of Abel’s, and a minuet of Schobert’s, -most delightfully, and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 67]</span> - -with so much soul and expression, that your Hettina could hardly have -played them better.</p> - -<p>“She is surely descended in a right line from Ophelia! only, now I -think of it, Ophelia dies unmarried. That is horribly unlucky. But, -oh Shakespeare!—all-knowing Shakespeare!—how came you to picture -just such female beauty and sweetness and harmony in a Danish court, -as was to be brought over to England so many years after, in a Danish -ambassadress?</p> - -<p>“But I have another no common thing to tell you. Do you know that my -Lord Barrington, from the time that he addressed the Baroness Deiden, -and that her manner shewed him to stand fair in her good opinion, wore -quite a new air? and looked so high-bred and pleasing, that I could not -think what he had done with his original appearance; for it then had as -good a Viscount mien as one might wish to see on a summer’s day. Now -how is this, my dear Daddy? You, who deride all romance, tell me how it -could happen? I know you formerly were acquainted with Lord Barrington, -and liked him very much—pray, was it in presence of some fair Ophelia -that you saw him?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 68]</span></p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<h3 class="nobreak">MRS. SHERIDAN.</h3> - -<p>But highest, at this season, in the highest circles of society, from -the triple bewitchment of talents, beauty, and fashion, stood the fair -Linley Sheridan; who now gave concerts at her own house, to which -entrance was sought not only by all the votaries of taste, and admirers -of musical excellence, but by all the leaders of <em>ton</em>, and their -numerous followers, or slaves; with an ardour for admittance that was -as eager for beholding as for listening to this matchless warbler; so -astonishingly in concord were the charms of person, manners, and voice, -for the eye and for the ear, of this resistless syren.</p> - -<p>To these concerts Dr. Burney was frequently invited; where he had the -pleasure, while enjoying the spirit of her conversation, the winning -softness of her address, and the attraction of her smiles, to return -her attention to him by the delicacy of accompaniment with which he -displayed her vocal perfection.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 69]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">HISTORY OF MUSIC.</h2> - -<p>In the midst of this energetic life of professional exertion, family -avocations, worldly prosperity, and fashionable distinction, Dr. Burney -lost not one moment that he could purloin either from its pleasures or -its toils, to dedicate to what had long become the principal object of -his cares,—his musical work.</p> - -<p>Music, as yet, whether considered as a science or as an art, had been -written upon only in partial details, to elucidate particular points of -theory or of practice; but no general plan, or history of its powers, -including its rise, progress, uses, and changes, in all the known -nations of the world, had ever been attempted: though, at the time -Dr. Burney set out upon his tours, to procure or to enlarge materials -for such a work, it singularly chanced that there started up two -fellow-labourers in the same vineyard, one English, the other Italian, -who were working in their studies upon the same idea—namely, Sir John -Hawkins, and Padre Martini. A French musical historian, also, M. de La -Borde, took in hand the same subject, by a striking coincidence, nearly -at the same period.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 70]</span></p> - -<p>Each of their labours has now been long before the public; and each, as -usual, has received the mede of pre-eminence, according to the sympathy -of its readers with the several views of the subject given by the -several authors.</p> - -<p>The impediments to all progressive expedition that stood in the way -of this undertaking with Dr. Burney, were so completely beyond his -control, that, with his utmost efforts and skill, it was not till the -year 1776, which was six years after the publication of his plan, that -he was able to bring forth his</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<h3 class="nobreak">HISTORY OF MUSIC.</h3> - -<p>And even then, it was the first volume only that he could publish; nor -was it till six years later followed by the second.</p> - -<p>Greatly, however, to a mind like his, was every exertion repaid by -the honour of its reception. The subscription, by which he had been -enabled to sustain its numerous expences in books, travels, and -engravings, had brilliantly been filled with the names of almost all -that were most eminent in literature, high in rank, celebrated in the -arts, or leading in the fashion of the day. And while the lovers - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 71]</span> - -of music received with eagerness every account of that art in which -they delighted; scholars, and men of letters in general, who hitherto -had thought of music but as they thought of a tune that might be played -or sung from imitation, were astonished at the depth of research, and -almost universality of observation, reading, and meditation, which were -now shewn to be requisite for such an undertaking: while the manner in -which, throughout the work, such varied matter was displayed, was so -natural, so spirited, and so agreeable, that the History of Music not -only awakened respect and admiration for its composition; it excited, -also, an animated desire, in almost the whole body of its readers, to -make acquaintance with its author.</p> - -<p>The History of Music was dedicated, by permission, to her Majesty, -Queen Charlotte; and was received with even peculiar graciousness when -it was presented, at the drawing-room, by the author. The Queen both -loved and understood the subject; and had shewn the liberal exemption -of her fair mind from all petty nationality, in the frank approbation -she had deigned to express of the Doctor’s Tours; notwithstanding they -so palpably displayed his strong preference of the Italian vocal music -to that of the German.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 72]</span></p> - -<p>So delighted was Doctor Burney by the condescending manner of the -Queen’s acceptance of his musical offering, that he never thenceforward -failed paying his homage to their Majesties, upon the two birth-day -anniversaries of those august and beloved Sovereigns.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 73]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak">STREATHAM.</h2> - -<p>Fair was this period in the life of Dr. Burney. It opened to him a new -region of enjoyment, supported by honours, and exhilarated by pleasures -supremely to his taste: honours that were literary, pleasures that were -intellectual. Fair was this period, though not yet was it risen to its -acme: a fairer still was now advancing to his highest wishes, by free -and frequent intercourse with the man in the world to whose genius and -worth united, he looked up the most reverentially—Dr. Johnson.</p> - -<p>And this intercourse was brought forward through circumstances of -such infinite agreeability, that no point, however flattering, of the -success that led him to celebrity, was so welcome to his honest and -honourable pride, as being sought for at Streatham, and his reception -at that seat of the Muses.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Thrale, the lively and enlivening lady of the mansion, was then -at the height of the glowing renown which, for many years, held her in -stationary superiority on that summit.</p> - -<p>It was professionally that Dr. Burney was first invited to -Streatham, by the master of that fair - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 74]</span> - -abode. The eldest daughter of the house<a name="FNanchor_10" id="FNanchor_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> -was in the progress of an education fast advancing in most departments -of juvenile accomplishments, when the idea of having recourse to the -chief in “music’s power divine,”—Dr. Burney,—as her -instructor in harmony, occurred to Mrs. Thrale.</p> - -<p>So interesting was this new engagement to the family of Dr. Burney, -which had been born and bred to a veneration of Dr. Johnson; and -which had imbibed the general notion that Streatham was a coterie of -wits and scholars, on a par with the blue assemblages in town of Mrs. -Montagu and Mrs. Vesey; that they all flocked around him, on his return -from his first excursion, with eager enquiry whether Dr. Johnson had -appeared; and whether Mrs. Thrale merited the brilliant plaudits of her -panegyrists.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney, delighted with all that had passed, was as communicative -as they could be inquisitive. Dr. Johnson had indeed appeared; and -from his previous knowledge of Dr. Burney, had come forward to him -zealously, and wearing his mildest aspect.</p> - -<p>Twenty-two years had now elapsed since first they had opened a -correspondence, that to Dr. Burney had been delightful, and of which -Dr. Johnson - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 75]</span> - -retained a warm and pleased remembrance. The early enthusiasm for that -great man, of Dr. Burney, could not have hailed a more propitious -circumstance for promoting the intimacy to which he aspired, than -what hung on this recollection; for kind thoughts must instinctively -have clung to the breast of Dr. Johnson, towards so voluntary and -disinterested a votary; who had broken forth from his own modest -obscurity to offer homage to Dr. Johnson, long before his stupendous -Dictionary, and more stupendous character, had raised him to his -subsequent towering fame.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Thrale, Dr. Burney had beheld as a star of the first magnitude in -the constellation of female wits; surpassing, rather than equalizing, -the reputation which her extraordinary endowments, and the splendid -fortune which made them conspicuous, had blazoned abroad; while her -social and easy good-humour allayed the alarm excited by the report of -her spirit of satire; which, nevertheless, he owned she unsparingly -darted around her, in sallies of wit and gaiety, and the happiest -spontaneous epigrams.</p> - -<p>Mr. Thrale, the Doctor had found a man of sound sense, good parts, good -instruction, and good manners; with a liberal turn of mind, and an - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 76]</span> - -unaffected taste for talented society. Yet, though it was everywhere -known that Mrs. Thrale sportively, but very decidedly, called and -proclaimed him her master, the Doctor never perceived in Mr. Thrale any -overbearing marital authority; and soon remarked, that while, from a -temper of mingled sweetness and carelessness, his wife never offered -him any opposing opinion, he was too wise to be rallied, by a sarcastic -nickname, out of the rights by which he kept her excess of vivacity -in order. Composedly, therefore, he was content with the appellation; -though from his manly character, joined to his real admiration of her -superior parts, he divested it of its commonly understood imputation of -tyranny, to convert it to a mere simple truism.</p> - -<p>But Dr. Burney soon saw that he had little chance of aiding his -young pupil in any very rapid improvement. Mrs. Thrale, who had no -passion but for conversation, in which her eminence was justly her -pride, continually broke into the lesson to discuss the news of the -times; politics, at that period, bearing the complete sway over men’s -minds. But she intermingled what she related, or what she heard, -with sallies so gay, so unexpected, so classically erudite, or so -vivaciously entertaining, that the tutor - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 77]</span> - -and the pupil were alike drawn away from their studies, to an enjoyment -of a less laborious, if not of a less profitable description.</p> - -<p>Dr. Johnson, who had no ear for music, had accustomed himself, like -many other great writers who have had that same, and frequently sole, -deficiency, to speak slightingly both of the art and of its professors. -And it was not till after he had become intimately acquainted with Dr. -Burney and his various merits, that he ceased to join in a jargon so -unworthy of his liberal judgment, as that of excluding musicians and -their art from celebrity.</p> - -<p>The first symptom that he shewed of a tendency to conversion upon this -subject, was upon hearing the following paragraph read, accidentally, -aloud by Mrs. Thrale, from the preface to the History of Music, while -it was yet in manuscript.</p> - -<p>“The love of lengthened tones and modulated sounds, seems a passion -implanted in human nature throughout the globe; as we hear of no -people, however wild and savage in other particulars, who have not -music of some kind or other, with which they seem greatly delighted.”</p> - -<p>“Sir,” cried Dr. Johnson, after a little pause, “this assertion I -believe may be right.” And then, see-sawing a minute or two on his -chair, he forcibly - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 78]</span> - -added: “All animated nature loves music—except myself!”</p> - -<p>Some time later, when Dr. Burney perceived that he was generally -gaining ground in the house, he said to Mrs. Thrale, who had civilly -been listening to some favourite air that he had been playing: “I have -yet hopes, Madam, with the assistance of my pupil, to see your’s become -a musical family. Nay, I even hope, Sir,” turning to Dr. Johnson, “I -shall some time or other make you, also, sensible of the power of my -art.”</p> - -<p>“Sir,” answered the Doctor, smiling, “I shall be very glad to have a -new sense put into me!”</p> - -<p>The Tour to the Hebrides being then in hand, Dr. Burney inquired of -what size and form the book would be. “Sir,” he replied, with a little -bow, “you are my model!”</p> - -<p>Impelled by the same kindness, when the Doctor lamented the -disappointment of the public in Hawkesworth’s Voyages,—“Sir,” he -cried, “the public is always disappointed in books of travels;—except -your’s!”</p> - -<p>And afterwards, he said that he had hardly ever read any book quite -through in his life; but added: “Chamier and I, Sir, however, read all -your travels - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 79]</span> - -through;—except, perhaps, the description of the great pipes in -the organs of Germany and the Netherlands!—”</p> - -<p>Mr. Thrale had lately fitted up a rational, readable, well chosen -library. It were superfluous to say that he had neither authors for -show, nor bindings for vanity, when it is known, that while it was -forming, he placed merely one hundred pounds in Dr. Johnson’s hands for -its completion; though such was his liberality, and such his opinion of -the wisdom as well as knowledge of Doctor Johnson in literary matters, -that he would not for a moment have hesitated to subscribe to the -highest estimate that the Doctor might have proposed.</p> - -<p>One hundred pounds, according to the expensive habits of the present -day, of decorating books like courtiers and coxcombs, rather than -like students and philosophers, would scarcely purchase a single row -for a book-case of the length of Mr. Thrale’s at Streatham; though, -under such guidance as that of Dr. Johnson, to whom all finery seemed -foppery, and all foppery futility, that sum, added to the books -naturally inherited, or already collected, amply sufficed for the -unsophisticated reader, where no peculiar pursuit, or unlimited spirit -of research, demanded - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 80]</span> - -a collection for reference rather than for instruction and -enjoyment.</p> - -<p>This was no sooner accomplished, than Mr. Thrale resolved to surmount -these treasures for the mind by a similar regale for the eyes, in -selecting the persons he most loved to contemplate, from amongst his -friends and favourites, to preside over the literature that stood -highest in his estimation.</p> - -<p>And, that his portrait painter might go hand in hand in judgment -with his collector of books, he fixed upon the matchless Sir Joshua -Reynolds to add living excellence to dead perfection, by giving him the -personal resemblance of the following elected set; every one of which -occasionally made a part of the brilliant society of Streatham.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Thrale and her eldest daughter were in one piece, over the -fire-place, at full length.</p> - -<p>The rest of the pictures were all three-quarters.</p> - -<p>Mr. Thrale was over the door leading to his study.</p> - -<p>The general collection then began by Lord Sandys and Lord Westcote, two -early noble friends of Mr. Thrale.</p> - -<p>Then followed</p> - -<div class="smaller"> -<table summary="pictures"> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Dr. Johnson. </td> -<td class="tdl">Mr. Burke. </td> -<td class="tdl">Dr. Goldsmith. </td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Mr. Murphy.</td> -<td class="tdl">Mr. Garrick.</td> -<td class="tdl">Mr. Baretti.</td> -</tr> -</table> -<div class="pindent2 smaller">Sir Robert Chambers, and Sir Joshua Reynolds himself.</div> -</div> - - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 81]</span></p> - -<p>All painted in the highest style of the great master, who much -delighted in this his Streatham gallery.</p> - -<p>There was place left but for one more frame, when the acquaintance with -Dr. Burney began at Streatham; and the charm of his conversation and -manners, joined to his celebrity in letters, so quickly won upon the -master as well as the mistress of the mansion, that he was presently -selected for the honour of filling up this last chasm in the chain of -Streatham worthies. To this flattering distinction, which Dr. Burney -always recognized with pleasure, the public owe the engraving of -Bartolozzi, which is prefixed to the History of Music.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">DR. JOHNSON.</h2> - -<p>The friendship and kindness of heart of Dr. Johnson, were promptly -brought into play by this renewed intercourse. Richard, the youngest -son of Dr. Burney, born of the second marriage, was then preparing for -Winchester School, whither his father purposed conveying him in person. -This design was no sooner known at Streatham, where Richard, at that -time a beautiful as well as clever boy, was in - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 82]</span> - -great favour with Mrs. Thrale, than Dr. Johnson volunteered an offer -to accompany the father to Winchester; that he might himself present -the son to Dr. Warton, the then celebrated master of that ancient -receptacle for the study of youth.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney, enchanted by such a mark of regard, gratefully accepted -the proposal; and they set out together for Winchester, where Dr. -Warton expected them with ardent hospitality. The acquaintance of -Dr. Burney he had already sought with literary liberality, having -kindly given him notice, through the medium of Mr. Garrick, -<a name="FNanchor_11" id="FNanchor_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11" -class="fnanchor">[11]</a> of a manuscript treatise on music in the -Winchester collection. There was, consequently, already an opening to -pleasure in their meeting: but the master’s reception of Dr. Johnson, -from the high-wrought sense of the honour of such a visit, was rather -rapturous than glad. Dr. Warton was always called an enthusiast by -Dr. Johnson, who, at times, when in gay spirits, and with those with -whom he trusted their ebullition, would take off Dr. Warton with the -strongest humour; describing, almost convulsively, the ecstacy with -which he would seize upon the person nearest - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 83]</span> - -to him, to hug in his arms, lest his grasp should be eluded, while he -displayed some picture, or some prospect; and indicated, in the midst -of contortions and gestures that violently and ludicrously shook, if -they did not affright his captive, the particular point of view, or of -design, that he wished should be noticed.</p> - -<p>This Winchester visit, besides the permanent impression made by its -benevolence, considerably quickened the march of intimacy of Dr. Burney -with the great lexicographer, by the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête à tête</i> journies to and from -Winchester; in which there was not only the ease of companionability, -to dissipate the modest awe of intellectual super-eminence, but -also the certitude of not being obtrusive; since, thus coupled in a -post-chaise, Dr. Johnson had no choice of occupation, and no one else -to whom to turn.</p> - -<p>Far, however, from Dr. Johnson, upon this occasion, was any desire of -change, or any requisition for variety. The spirit of Dr. Burney, with -his liveliness of communication, drew out the mighty stores which Dr. -Johnson had amassed upon nearly every subject, with an amenity that -brought forth his genius in its very essence, cleared from all turbid - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 84]</span> - -dregs of heated irritability; and Dr. Burney never looked back to this -Winchester tour but with recollected pleasure.</p> - -<p>Nor was this the sole exertion in favour of Dr. Burney, of this -admirable friend. He wrote various letters to his own former -associates, and to his newer connexions at Oxford, recommending to them -to facilitate, with their best power, the researches of the musical -historian. And, some time afterwards, he again took a seat in the -chaise of Dr. Burney, and accompanied him in person to that university; -where every head of college, professor, and even general member, vied -one with another in coupling, in every mark of civility, their rising -approbation of Dr. Burney, with their established reverence for Dr. -Johnson.</p> - -<p>Most willingly, indeed, would this great and excellent man have made, -had he seen occasion, far superior efforts in favour of Dr. Burney; an -excursion almost any where being, in fact, so agreeable to his taste, -as to be always rather a pleasure to him than a fatigue.</p> - -<p>His vast abilities, in truth, were too copious for the small scenes, -objects, and interests of the little - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 85]</span> - -world in which he lived;<a name="FNanchor_12" id="FNanchor_12"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> and frequently must he -have felt both curbed and damped by the utter insufficiency of such -minor scenes, objects, and interests, to occupy powers such as his of -conception and investigation. To avow this he was far too wise, lest -it should seem a scorn of his fellow-creatures; and, indeed, from his -internal humility, it is possible that he was not himself aware of the -great chasm that separated him from the herd of mankind, when not held -to it by the ties of benevolence or of necessity.</p> - -<p>To talk of humility and Dr. Johnson together, may, perhaps, make the -few who remember him smile, and the many who have only heard of him -stare. But his humility was not that of thinking more lowlily of -himself than of others; it was simply that of thinking so lowlily of -others, as to hold his own conscious superiority of but small scale in -the balance of intrinsic excellence.</p> - -<p>After these excursions, the intercourse of Dr. Burney with Streatham -became so friendly, that - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 86]</span> - -Mrs. Thrale desired to make acquaintance with the Doctor’s family; and -Dr. Johnson, at the same time, requested to examine the Doctor’s books; -while both wished to see the house of Sir Isaac Newton.</p> - -<p>An account of this beginning connection with St. Martin’s-Street -was drawn up by the present Editor, at the earnest desire of the -revered Chesington family-friend, Mr. Crisp; whom she had just, and -most reluctantly, quitted a day or two before this first visit from -Streatham took place.</p> - -<p>This little narration she now consigns to these memoirs, as naturally -belonging to the progress of the friendship of Dr. Burney with Dr. -Johnson; and not without hope that this genuine detail of the first -appearance of Dr. Johnson in St. Martin’s-Street, may afford to the -reader some share of the entertainment which it afforded to the then -young writer.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center large smcap">“To Samuel Crisp, Esq.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center">“<i>Chesington, near Kingston, Surrey.</i><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="sig-left2">“My dearest Mr. Crisp.</p> - -<p>“My Father seemed well pleased at my returning to -my time; so that is no small consolation and pleasure to me for the -pain of quitting you. So now to our Thursday morning, and Dr. Johnson; -according to my promise.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 87]</span></p> - -<p>“We were all—by we, I mean Suzette,<a name="FNanchor_13" id="FNanchor_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> -Charlotte,<a name="FNanchor_14" id="FNanchor_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> and I,—for -my mother had seen him before, as had my sister Burney;<a name="FNanchor_15" id="FNanchor_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15" -class="fnanchor">[15]</a> but we three were all in a twitter, from -violent expectation and curiosity for the sight of this monarch of -books and authors.</p> - -<p>“Mrs. and Miss Thrale,<a name="FNanchor_16" id="FNanchor_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> Miss Owen, and -Mr. Seward,<a name="FNanchor_17" id="FNanchor_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> came long before -Lexiphanes. Mrs. Thrale is a pretty woman still, though she has some -defect in the mouth that looks like a cut, or scar; but her nose is -very handsome, her complexion very fair; she has the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">embonpoint -charmant</i>, and her eyes are blue and lustrous. She is extremely lively -and chatty; and shewed none of the supercilious or pedantic airs, so -freely, or, rather, so scoffingly attributed, by you envious lords -of the creation, to women of learning or celebrity; on the contrary, -she is full of sport, remarkably gay, and excessively agreeable. I -liked - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 88]</span> - -her in every thing except her entrance into the room, which was rather -florid and flourishing, as who should say, ‘It’s I!—No less a person -than Mrs. Thrale!’ However, all that ostentation wore out in the course -of the visit, which lasted the whole morning; and you could not have -helped liking her, she is so very entertaining—though not simple -enough, I believe, for quite winning your heart.</p> - -<p>“Miss Thrale seems just verging on her teens. She is certainly -handsome, and her beauty is of a peculiar sort; fair, round, firm, and -cherubimical; with its chief charm exactly where lies the mother’s -failure—namely, in the mouth. She is reckoned cold and proud; but I -believe her to be merely shy and reserved; you, however, would have -liked her, and called her a girl of fashion; for she was very silent, -but very observant; and never looked tired, though she never uttered a -syllable.</p> - -<p>“Miss Owen, who is a relation of Mrs. Thrale’s, is good-humoured and -sensible enough. She is a sort of butt, and as such is a general -favourite; though she is a willing, and not a mean butt; for she -is a woman of family and fortune. But those sort of characters are -prodigiously popular, from - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 89]</span> - -their facility of giving liberty of speech to the wit and pleasantry -of others, without risking for themselves any return of the ‘retort -courteous.’</p> - -<p>“Mr. Seward, who seems to be quite at home among them, appears to be a -penetrating, polite, and agreeable young man. Mrs. Thrale says of him, -that he does good to every body, but speaks well of nobody.</p> - -<p>“The conversation was supported with a great deal of vivacity, as usual -when il Signor Padrone is at home; but I can write you none of it, as I -was still in the same twitter, twitter, twitter, I have acknowledged, -to see Dr. Johnson. Nothing could have heightened my impatience—unless -Pope could have been brought to life again—or, perhaps, Shakespeare!</p> - -<p>“This confab. was broken up by a duet between your Hettina and, for -the first time to company-listeners, Suzette; who, however, escaped -much fright, for she soon found she had no musical critics to encounter -in Mrs. Thrale and Mr. Seward, or Miss Owen; who know not a flat from a -sharp, nor a crotchet from a quaver. But every knowledge is not given -to every body—except to two gentle wights of my acquaintance; the -one commonly hight - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 90]</span> - -il Padre, and the other il Dadda. Do you know any such sort of people, -Sir?</p> - -<p>“Well, in the midst of this performance, and before the second movement -was come to a close,—Dr. Johnson was announced!</p> - -<p>“Now, my dear Mr. Crisp, if you like a description of emotions and -sensations—but I know you treat them all as burlesque—so let’s -proceed.</p> - -<p>“Every body rose to do him honour; and he returned the attention with -the most formal courtesie. My father then, having welcomed him with the -warmest respect, whispered to him that music was going forward; which -he would not, my father thinks, have found out; and placing him on the -best seat vacant, told his daughters to go on with the duet; while Dr. -Johnson, intently rolling towards them one eye—for they say he does -not see with the other—made a grave nod, and gave a dignified motion -with one hand, in silent approvance of the proceeding.</p> - -<p>“But now, my dear Mr. Crisp, I am mortified to own, what you, who -always smile at my enthusiasm, will hear without caring a straw -for—that he is, indeed, very ill-favoured! Yet he has naturally a -noble figure; tall, stout, grand, and authoritative: - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 91]</span> - -but he stoops horribly; his back is quite round: his mouth is -continually opening and shutting, as if he were chewing something; -he has a singular method of twirling his fingers, and twisting his -hands: his vast body is in constant agitation, see-sawing backwards and -forwards: his feet are never a moment quiet; and his whole great person -looked often as if it were going to roll itself, quite voluntarily, -from his chair to the floor.</p> - -<p>“Since such is his appearance to a person so prejudiced in his favour -as I am, how I must more than ever reverence his abilities, when I tell -you that, upon asking my father why he had not prepared us for such -uncouth, untoward strangeness, he laughed heartily, and said he had -entirely forgotten that the same impression had been, at first, made -upon himself; but had been lost even on the second interview——</p> - -<p>“How I long to see him again, to lose it, too!—for, knowing the value -of what would come out when he spoke, he ceased to observe the defects -that were out while he was silent.</p> - -<p>“But you always charge me to write without reserve or reservation, -and so I obey as usual. Else, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 92]</span> - -I should be ashamed to acknowledge having remarked such exterior -blemishes in so exalted a character.</p> - -<p>“His dress, considering the times, and that he had meant to put on all -his <em>best becomes</em>, for he was engaged to dine with a very fine party -at Mrs. Montagu’s, was as much out of the common road as his figure. He -had a large, full, bushy wig, a snuff-colour coat, with gold buttons, -(or, peradventure, brass,) but no ruffles to his doughty fists; and -not, I suppose, to be taken for a Blue, though going to the Blue Queen, -he had on very coarse black worsted stockings.</p> - -<p>“He is shockingly near-sighted; a thousand times more so than either -my Padre or myself. He did not even know Mrs. Thrale, till she held -out her hand to him; which she did very engagingly. After the first -few minutes, he drew his chair close to the piano-forte, and then bent -down his nose quite over the keys, to examine them, and the four hands -at work upon them; till poor Hetty and Susan hardly knew how to play -on, for fear of touching his phiz; or, which was harder still, how to -keep their countenances; and the less, as Mr. Seward, who seems to - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 93]</span> - -be very droll and shrewd, and was much diverted, ogled them slyly, with -a provoking expression of arch enjoyment of their apprehensions.</p> - -<p>“When the duet was finished, my father introduced your Hettina to him, -as an old acquaintance, to whom, when she was a little girl, he had -presented his Idler.</p> - -<p>“His answer to this was imprinting on her pretty face—not a half touch -of a courtly salute—but a good, real, substantial, and very loud kiss.</p> - -<p>“Every body was obliged to stroke their chins, that they might hide -their mouths.</p> - -<p>“Beyond this chaste embrace, his attention was not to be drawn off -two minutes longer from the books, to which he now strided his way; -for we had left the drawing-room for the library, on account of the -piano-forte. He pored over them, shelf by shelf, almost brushing -them with his eye-lashes from near examination. At last, fixing upon -something that happened to hit his fancy, he took it down, and, -standing aloof from the company, which he seemed clean and clear to -forget, he began, without further ceremony, and very composedly, to -read to himself; and as intently as if he had been alone in his own -study.</p> - -<p>“We were all excessively provoked: for we were - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 94]</span> - -languishing, fretting, expiring to hear him talk—not to see him -read!—what could that do for us?</p> - -<p>“My sister then played another duet, accompanied by my father, to which -Miss Thrale seemed very attentive; and all the rest quietly resigned. -But Dr. Johnson had opened a volume of the British Encyclopedia, and -was so deeply engaged, that the music, probably, never reached his ears.</p> - -<p>“When it was over, Mrs. Thrale, in a laughing manner, said: ‘Pray, -Dr. Burney, will you be so good as to tell me what that song was, and -whose, which Savoi sung last night at Bach’s concert, and which you did -not hear?’</p> - -<p>“My father confessed himself by no means so able a diviner, not having -had time to consult the stars, though he lived in the house of Sir -Isaac Newton. But anxious to draw Dr. Johnson into conversation, he -ventured to interrupt him with Mrs. Thrale’s conjuring request relative -to Bach’s concert.</p> - -<p>“The Doctor, comprehending his drift, good-naturedly put away his book, -and, see-sawing, with a very humorous smile, drolly repeated, ‘Bach, -sir?—Bach’s concert?—And pray, sir, who is Bach?—Is he a piper?’</p> - -<p>“You may imagine what exclamations followed such a question.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 95]</span></p> - -<p>“Mrs. Thrale gave a detailed account of the nature of the concert, and -the fame of Mr. Bach; and the many charming performances she had heard, -with all their varieties, in his rooms.</p> - -<p>“When there was a pause, ‘Pray, madam,’ said he, with the calmest -gravity, ‘what is the expence for all this?’</p> - -<p>“‘O,’ answered she, ‘the expence is—much trouble and solicitation to -obtain a subscriber’s ticket—or else, half a guinea.’</p> - -<p>“‘Trouble and solicitation,’ he replied, ‘I will have nothing to -do with!—but, if it be so fine,—I would be willing to give,’—he -hesitated, and then finished with—‘eighteen pence.’</p> - -<p>“Ha! ha!—Chocolate being then brought, we returned to the -drawing-room; and Dr. Johnson, when drawn away from the books, freely, -and with social good-humour, gave himself up to conversation.</p> - -<p>“The intended dinner of Mrs. Montagu being mentioned, Dr. Johnson -laughingly told us that he had received the most flattering note that -he had ever read, or that any body else had ever read, of invitation -from that lady.</p> - -<p>“‘So have I, too,’ cried Mrs. Thrale. ‘So, if a note from Mrs. Montagu -is to be boasted of, I beg mine may not be forgotten.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 96]</span></p> - -<p>“‘Your note, madam,’ cried Dr. Johnson, smiling, ‘can bear no -comparison with mine; for I am at the head of all the philosophers—she -says.’</p> - -<p>“‘And I,’ returned Mrs. Thrale, ‘have all the Muses in my train.’</p> - -<p>“‘A fair battle!’ cried my father; ‘come! compliment for compliment; -and see who will hold out longest.’</p> - -<p>“‘I am afraid for Mrs. Thrale,’ said Mr. Seward; ‘for I know that -Mrs. Montagu exerts all her forces, when she sings the praises of Dr. -Johnson.’</p> - -<p>“‘O yes!’ cried Mrs. Thrale, ‘she has often praised him till he has -been ready to faint.’</p> - -<p>“‘Well,’ said my father, ‘you two ladies must get him fairly between -you to-day, and see which can lay on the paint the thickest, Mrs. -Montagu or Mrs. Thrale.’</p> - -<p>“‘I had rather,’ said the Doctor, very composedly, ‘go to Bach’s -concert!’</p> - -<p>“Ha! ha! What a compliment to all three!</p> - -<p>“After this, they talked of Mr. Garrick, and his late exhibition before -the King; to whom, and to the Queen and Royal Family, he has been -reading Lethe in character; <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">c’est à dire</i>, in different voices, and -theatrically.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Seward gave an amusing account of a fable - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 97]</span> - -which Mr. Garrick had written by way of prologue, or introduction, -upon this occasion. In this he says, that a blackbird, grown old and -feeble, droops his wings, &c. &c., and gives up singing; but, -upon being called upon by the eagle, his voice recovers its powers, his -spirits revive, he sets age at defiance, and sings better than ever.</p> - -<p>“‘There is not,’ said Dr. Johnson, again beginning to see-saw, ‘much -of the spirit of fabulosity in this fable; for the call of an eagle -never yet had much tendency to restore the warbling of a blackbird! -‘Tis true, the fabulists frequently make the wolves converse with the -lambs; but then, when the conversation is over, the lambs are always -devoured! And, in that manner, the eagle, to be sure, may entertain the -blackbird—but the entertainment always ends in a feast for the eagle.’</p> - -<p>“‘They say,’ cried Mrs. Thrale, ‘that Garrick was extremely hurt by the -coldness of the King’s applause; and that he did not find his reception -such as he had expected.’</p> - -<p>“‘He has been so long accustomed,’ said Mr. Seward, ‘to the thundering -acclamation of a theatre, that mere calm approbation must necessarily -be insipid, nay, dispiriting to him.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 98]</span></p> - -<p>“‘Sir,’ said Dr. Johnson, ‘he has no right, in a royal apartment, to -expect the hallooing and clamour of the one-shilling gallery. The King, -I doubt not, gave him as much applause as was rationally his due. And, -indeed, great and uncommon as is the merit of Mr. Garrick, no man will -be bold enough to assert that he has not had his just proportion both -of fame and profit. He has long reigned the unequalled favourite of -the public; and therefore nobody, we may venture to say, will mourn -his hard lot, if the King and the Royal Family were not transported -into rapture upon hearing him read Lethe! But yet, Mr. Garrick will -complain to his friends; and his friends will lament the King’s want of -feeling and taste. But then—Mr. Garrick will kindly excuse the King. -He will say that his Majesty—might, perhaps, be thinking of something -else!—That the affairs of America might, possibly, occur to him—or -some other subject of state, more important—perhaps—than Lethe. But -though he will candidly say this himself,—he will not easily forgive -his friends if they do not contradict him!’</p> - -<p>“But now, that I have written you this satire of our immortal -Roscius, it is but just, both to Mr. Garrick and to Dr. Johnson, that I -should write - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 99]</span> - -to you what was said afterwards, when, with equal humour and candour, -Mr. Garrick’s general character was discriminated by Dr. Johnson.</p> - -<p>“‘Garrick,’ he said, ‘is accused of vanity; but few men would have -borne such unremitting prosperity with greater, if with equal, -moderation. He is accused, too, of avarice, though he lives rather -like a prince than an actor. But the frugality he practised when he -first appeared in the world, has put a stamp upon his character ever -since. And now, though his table, his equipage, and his establishment, -are equal to those of persons of the most splendid rank, the original -stain of avarice still blots his name! And yet, had not his early, and -perhaps necessary economy, fixed upon him the charge of thrift, he -would long since have been reproached with that of luxury.’</p> - -<p>“Another time he said of him, ‘Garrick never enters a room, but -he regards himself as the object of general attention, from whom the -entertainment of the company is expected. And true it is, that he -seldom disappoints that expectation: for he has infinite humour, a very -just proportion of wit, and more convivial pleasantry than almost any -man living. But then, off as well as on the stage— - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 100]</span> - -he is always an actor! for he holds it so incumbent upon him to be -sportive, that his gaiety, from being habitual, is become mechanical: -and he can exert his spirits at all times alike, without any -consultation of his disposition to hilarity.’</p> - -<p>“I can recollect nothing more, my dear Mr. Crisp. So I beg your -benediction, and bid you adieu.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The accession of the musical historian to the Streatham coterie, was -nearly as desirable to Dr. Johnson himself, as it could be to its new -member; and, with reciprocated vivacity in seeking the society of each -other, they went thither, and returned thence to their homes, in <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête -à tête</i> junctions, by every opportunity.</p> - -<p>In his chronological doggrel list of his friends and his feats, Dr. -Burney has inserted the following lines upon the Streatham connexion.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center">“1776.</p> -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="smaller"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“This year I acquaintance began with the Thrales,</div> - <div class="verse">Where I met with great talents ’mongst females and males:</div> - <div class="verse">But the best thing that happen’d from that time to this,</div> - <div class="verse">Was the freedom it gave me to sound the abyss,</div> - <div class="verse">At my ease and my leisure, of Johnson’s great mind,</div> - <div class="verse">Where new treasures unnumber’d I constantly find.</div> -<div class="stanza"></div> - <div class="verse">Huge Briareus’s head, if old bards have not blunder’d,</div> - - <div class="verse">Amounted in all to the sum of one hundred;</div> - <div class="verse">And Johnson,—so wide his intelligence spreads,</div> - <div class="verse">Has the brains of—at least—the same number of heads.”</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 101]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">DR. JOHNSON AND THE GREVILLES.</h2> - -<p>A few months after the Streathamite morning visit to St. -Martin’s-street that has been narrated, an evening party was arranged -by Dr. Burney, for bringing thither again Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale, -at the desire of Mr. and Mrs. Greville and Mrs. Crewe; who wished, -under the quiet roof of Dr. Burney, to make acquaintance with those -celebrated personages.</p> - -<p>This meeting, though more fully furnished with materials, produced -not the same spirit or interest as its predecessor; and it owed, -unfortunately, its miscarriage to the anxious efforts of Dr. Burney for -heightening its success.</p> - -<p>To take off, as he hoped, what might be stiff or formidable in an -appointed encounter between persons of such highly famed conversational -powers, who, absolute strangers to one another, must emulously, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 102]</span> - -on each side, wish to shine with superior lustre, he determined</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center smaller">To mingle sweet discourse with music sweet;</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>and to vary, as well as soften the energy of intellectual debate, -by the science and the sweetness of instrumental harmony. But the -lovers of music, and the adepts in conversation, are rarely in true -unison. Exceptions only form, not mar a rule; as witness Messieurs -Crisp, Twining, and Bewley, who were equally eminent for musical and -for mental melody: but, in general, the discourse-votaries think time -thrown away, or misapplied, that is not devoted exclusively to the -powers of reason; while the votaries of harmony deem pleasure and taste -discarded, where precedence is not accorded to the melting delight of -modulated sounds.</p> - -<p>The party consisted of Dr. Johnson, Mr. and Mrs. Greville, Mrs. -Crewe, Mr., Mrs., and Miss Thrale; Signor Piozzi, Mr. Charles -Burney, the Doctor, his wife, and four of his daughters.<a -name="FNanchor_18" id="FNanchor_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18" -class="fnanchor">[18]</a></p> - -<p>Mr. Greville, in manner, mien, and high personal - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 103]</span> - -presentation, was still the superb Mr. Greville of other days; though -from a considerable diminution of the substantial possessions which -erst had given him pre-eminence at the clubs and on the turf, the -splendour of his importance was now superseded by newer and richer -claimants. And even in <em>ton</em> and fashion, though his rank in life kept -him a certain place, his influence, no longer seconded by fortune, was -on the wane.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Greville, whose decadence was in that very line in which alone her -husband escaped it,—personal beauty,—had lost, at an early period, -her external attractions, from the excessive thinness that had given to -her erst fine and most delicate small features, a cast of sharpness so -keen and meagre, that, joined to the shrewdly intellectual expression -of her countenance, made her seem fitted to sit for a portrait, such as -might have been delineated by Spencer, of a penetrating, puissant, and -sarcastic fairy queen. She still, however, preserved her early fame; -her Ode to Indifference having twined around her brow a garland of -wide-spreading and unfading fragrance.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Crewe seemed to inherit from both parents only what was best. -She was still in a blaze of beauty that her happy and justly poised -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">embonpoint</i> - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 104]</span> - -preserved, with a roseate freshness, that eclipsed even juvenile -rivalry, not then alone, but nearly to the end of a long life.</p> - -<p>With all the unavoidable consciousness of only looking, only speaking, -only smiling to give pleasure and receive homage, Mrs. Crewe, even from -her earliest days, had evinced an intuitive eagerness for the sight of -whoever or whatever was original, or peculiar, that gave her a lively -taste for acquiring information; not deep, indeed, nor scientific; but -intelligent, communicative, and gay. She had earnestly, therefore, -availed herself of an opportunity thus free from parade or trouble, of -taking an intimate view of so celebrated a philosopher as Dr. Johnson; -of whom she wished to form a personal judgment, confirmatory or -contradictory, of the rumours, pro and contra, that had instigated her -curiosity.</p> - -<p>Mr. Thrale, also, was willing to be present at this interview, from -which he flattered himself with receiving much diversion, through the -literary skirmishes, the pleasant retorts courteous, and the sharp -pointed repartees, that he expected to hear reciprocated between Mrs. -Greville, Mrs. Thrale, and Dr. Johnson: for though entirely a man of -peace, and a gentleman in his character, he had a singular - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 105]</span> - -amusement in hearing, instigating, and provoking a war of words, -alternating triumph and overthrow, between clever and ambitious -colloquial combatants, where, as here, there was nothing that could -inflict disgrace upon defeat.</p> - -<p>And this, indeed, in a milder degree, was the idea of entertainment -from the meeting that had generally been conceived. But the first step -taken by Dr. Burney for social conciliation, which was calling for a -cantata from Signor Piozzi, turned out, on the contrary, the herald -to general discomfiture; for it cast a damp of delay upon the mental -gladiators, that dimmed the brightness of the spirit with which, it is -probable, they had meant to vanquish each the other.</p> - -<p>Piozzi, a first rate singer, whose voice was deliciously sweet, and -whose expression was perfect, sung in his very best manner, from his -desire to do honour to <em>il Capo di Casa</em>; but <em>il Capo di Casa</em> and -his family alone did justice to his strains: neither the Grevilles nor -the Thrales heeded music beyond what belonged to it as fashion: the -expectations of the Grevilles were all occupied by Dr. Johnson; and -those of the Thrales by the authoress of the Ode to Indifference. When -Piozzi, therefore, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 106]</span> - -arose, the party remained as little advanced in any method or pleasure -for carrying on the evening, as upon its first entrance into the -room.</p> - -<p>Mr. Greville, who had been curious to see, and who intended to examine -this leviathan of literature, as Dr. Johnson was called in the -current pamphlets of the day, considered it to be his proper post to -open the campaign of the <i lang="it">conversatione</i>. But he had heard so much, -from his friend Topham Beauclerk, whose highest honour was that of -classing himself as one of the friends of Dr. Johnson; not only of -the bright intellect with which the Doctor brought forth his wit and -knowledge; and of the splendid talents with which he displayed them -when they were aptly met; but also of the overwhelming ability with -which he dismounted and threw into the mire of ridicule and shame, the -antagonist who ventured to attack him with any species of sarcasm, that -he was cautious how to encounter so tremendous a literary athletic. He -thought it, therefore, most consonant to his dignity to leave his own -character as an author in the back ground; and to take the field with -the aristocratic armour of pedigree and distinction. Aloof, therefore, -he kept from all; and, assuming his most supercilious air of distant - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 107]</span> - -superiority, planted himself, immovable as a noble statue, upon the -hearth, as if a stranger to the whole set.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Greville would willingly have entered the lists herself, but that -she naturally concluded Dr. Johnson would make the advances.</p> - -<p>And Mrs. Crewe, to whom all this seemed odd and unaccountable, but -to whom, also, from her love of any thing unusual, it was secretly -amusing, sat perfectly passive in silent observance.</p> - -<p>Dr. Johnson, himself, had come with the full intention of passing -two or three hours, with well chosen companions, in social elegance. -His own expectations, indeed, were small—for what could meet their -expansion? his wish, however, to try all sorts and all conditions -of persons, as far as belonged to their intellect, was unqualified -and unlimited; and gave to him nearly as much desire to see others, -as his great fame gave to others to see his eminent self. But his -signal peculiarity in regard to society, could not be surmised by -strangers; and was as yet unknown even to Dr. Burney. This was that, -notwithstanding the superior powers with which he followed up every -given subject, he scarcely ever began one himself; or, to use the -phrase of Sir W. W. Pepys, originated; though the masterly manner - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 108]</span> - -in which, as soon as any topic was started, he seized it in all its -bearings, had so much the air of belonging to the leader of the -discourse, that this singularity was unnoticed and unsuspected, save by -the experienced observation of long years of acquaintance.</p> - -<p>Not, therefore, being summoned to hold forth, he remained silent; -composedly at first, and afterwards abstractedly.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney now began to feel considerably embarrassed; though still he -cherished hopes of ultimate relief from some auspicious circumstance -that, sooner or later, would operate, he hoped, in his favour, through -the magnetism of congenial talents.</p> - -<p>Vainly, however, he sought to elicit some observations that might -lead to disserting discourse; all his attempts received only quiet, -acquiescent replies, “signifying nothing.” Every one was awaiting some -spontaneous opening from Dr. Johnson.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Thrale, of the whole coterie, was alone at her ease. She -feared not Dr. Johnson; for fear made no part of her composition; -and with Mrs. Greville, as a fair rival genius, she would have been -glad, from curiosity, to have had the honour of a little tilt, in full -carelessness of its event; for though triumphant - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 109]</span> - -when victorious, she had spirits so volatile, and such utter exemption -from envy or spleen, that she was gaily free from mortification when -vanquished. But she knew the meeting to have been fabricated for Dr. -Johnson; and, therefore, though not without difficulty, constrained -herself to be passive.</p> - -<p>When, however, she observed the sardonic disposition of Mr. Greville -to stare around him at the whole company in curious silence, she felt -a defiance against his aristocracy beat in every pulse; for, however -grandly he might look back to the long ancestry of the Brookes and -the Grevilles, she had a glowing consciousness that her own blood, -rapid and fluent, flowed in her veins from Adam of Saltsberg; and, at -length, provoked by the dullness of a taciturnity that, in the midst -of such renowned interlocutors, produced as narcotic a torpor as could -have been caused by a dearth the most barren of human faculties; she -grew tired of the music, and yet more tired of remaining, what as -little suited her inclinations as her abilities, a mere cipher in the -company; and, holding such a position, and all its concomitants, to -be ridiculous, her spirits rose rebelliously above her control; and, -in a fit of utter recklessness of what might be thought of her by her -fine new - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 110]</span> - -acquaintance, she suddenly, but softly, arose, and stealing -on tip-toe behind Signor Piozzi; who was accompanying himself on the -piano-forte to an animated <i lang="it">arria parlante</i>, with his back to the -company, and his face to the wall; she ludicrously began imitating him -by squaring her elbows, elevating them with ecstatic shrugs of the -shoulders, and casting up her eyes, while languishingly reclining her -head; as if she were not less enthusiastically, though somewhat more -suddenly, struck with the transports of harmony than himself.</p> - -<p>This grotesque ebullition of ungovernable gaiety was not perceived by -Dr. Johnson, who faced the fire, with his back to the performer and the -instrument. But the amusement which such an unlooked for exhibition -caused to the party, was momentary; for Dr. Burney, shocked lest the -poor Signor should observe, and be hurt by this mimicry, glided gently -round to Mrs. Thrale, and, with something between pleasantry and -severity, whispered to her, “Because, Madam, you have no ear yourself -for music, will you destroy the attention of all who, in that one -point, are otherwise gifted?”</p> - -<p>It was now that shone the brightest attribute of Mrs. Thrale, -sweetness of temper. She took this - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 111]</span> - -rebuke with a candour, and a sense of its justice the most amiable: she -nodded her approbation of the admonition; and, returning to her chair, -quietly sat down, as she afterwards said, like a pretty little miss, -for the remainder of one of the most humdrum evenings that she had ever -passed.</p> - -<p>Strange, indeed, strange and most strange, the event considered, was -this opening intercourse between Mrs. Thrale and Signor Piozzi. Little -could she imagine that the person she was thus called away from holding -up to ridicule, would become, but a few years afterwards, the idol -of her fancy and the lord of her destiny! And little did the company -present imagine, that this burlesque scene was but the first of a drama -the most extraordinary of real life, of which these two persons were -to be the hero and heroine: though, when the catastrophe was known, -this incident, witnessed by so many, was recollected and repeated from -coterie to coterie throughout London, with comments and sarcasms of -endless variety.</p> - -<p>The most innocent person of all that went forward was the laurelled -chief of the little association, Dr. Johnson; who, though his love for -Dr. Burney made it a pleasure to him to have been included - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 112]</span> - -in the invitation, marvelled, probably, by this time, since uncalled -upon to distinguish himself, why he had been bidden to the meeting. -But, as the evening advanced, he wrapt himself up in his own thoughts, -in a manner it was frequently less difficult to him to do than to let -alone, and became completely absorbed in silent rumination: sustaining, -nevertheless, a grave and composed demeanour, with an air by no means -wanting in dignity any more than in urbanity.</p> - -<p>Very unexpectedly, however, ere the evening closed, he shewed himself -alive to what surrounded him, by one of those singular starts of -vision, that made him seem at times,—though purblind to things in -common, and to things inanimate,—gifted with an eye of instinct for -espying any action or position that he thought merited reprehension: -for, all at once, looking fixedly on Mr. Greville, who, without much -self-denial, the night being very cold, pertinaciously kept his station -before the chimney-piece, he exclaimed: “If it were not for depriving -the ladies of the fire,—I should like to stand upon the hearth myself!”</p> - -<p>A smile gleamed upon every face at this pointed speech. Mr. Greville -tried to smile himself, though - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 113]</span> - -faintly and scoffingly. He tried, also, to hold to his post, as if -determined to disregard so cavalier a liberty: but the sight of every -eye around him cast down, and every visage struggling vainly to appear -serious, disconcerted him; and though, for two or three minutes, he -disdained to move, the awkwardness of a general pause impelled him, ere -long, to glide back to his chair; but he rang the bell with force as he -passed it, to order his carriage.</p> - -<p>It is probable that Dr. Johnson had observed the high air and mien of -Mr. Greville, and had purposely brought forth that remark to disenchant -him from his self-consequence.</p> - -<p>The party then broke up; and no one from amongst it ever asked, or -wished for its repetition.</p> - -<p>If the mode of the first queen of the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Bas Bleu</i> Societies, -Mrs. Vesey, had here been adopted, for destroying the formality of -the circle, the party would certainly have been less scrupulously -ceremonious; for if any two of the gifted persons present had been -jostled unaffectedly together, there can be little doubt that the -plan and purpose of Dr. Burney would have been answered by a spirited -conversation. But neither then, nor since, has so happy a confusion to -all order of etiquette been instituted, as was set - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 114]</span> - -afloat by that remarkable lady; whose amiable and intelligent -simplicity made her follow up the suggestions of her singular fancy, -without being at all aware that she did not follow those of common -custom.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">PACCHIEROTTI.</h2> - -<p>The professional history, as well as the opinions of Dr. Burney, are -so closely inserted in his History of Music, that they are all passed -by in the memoirs of his life; but there arrived in England, at this -period, a foreign singer of such extraordinary merit in character as -well as talents, that not to inscribe his name in the list of the -Doctor’s chosen friends, as well as in that which enrols him at the -head of the most supremely eminent of vocal performers, would be -ill proclaiming, or remembering, the equal height in both points to -which he was raised in the Doctor’s estimation, by a union the most -delighting of professional with social excellence.</p> - -<p>Pacchierotti, who came out upon the opera stage in 1778, is first -mentioned, incidentally, in the History of Music, as “a great and -original performer;” and his public appearance afterwards is announced -by this remarkable paragraph.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 115]</span></p> - -<p>“To describe, with merited discrimination, the uncommon and varied -powers of Pacchierotti, would require a distinct dissertation of -considerable length, rather than a short article incorporated in a -general History of Music.”</p> - -<p>The Doctor afterwards relates, that eagerly attending the first -rehearsal of Demofonte, with which opera Pacchierotti began his English -career, and in which, under the pressure of a bad cold, he sang only <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">a -sotto voce</i>, his performance afforded a more exquisite pleasure than -the Doctor had ever before experienced, or even imagined. “The natural -tone of his voice,” says the History of Music, “was so interesting, -sweet, and pathetic, that when he had a long note, I never wished him -to change it, or to do any thing but swell, diminish, or prolong it, -in whatever way he pleased. A great compass of voice downwards, with -an ascent up to C in alt.; an unbounded fancy, and a power not only of -executing the most refined and difficult passages, but of inventing new -embellishments which had never then been on paper, made him, during his -long residence here, a new singer to me every time I heard him.”</p> - -<p>A still more exact and scientific detail of his powers is then -succeeded by these words: “That Pacchierotti’s feeling and sentiments -were uncommon, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 116]</span> - -was not only discoverable by his voice and performance, but by his -countenance, in which through a general expression of benevolence, -there was a constant play of features that varyingly manifested all the -changing workings and agitations of his soul. * * * * When his voice -was in order, and obedient to his will, there was a perfection in tone, -taste, knowledge, and sensibility, that my conception in the art could -not imagine possible to be surpassed.”</p> - -<p>And scarcely could this incomparable performer stand higher in the -eminence of his profession, than in that of his intellect, his temper, -and his character.</p> - -<p>If he had not been a singer, he would probably have been a poet; -for his ideas, even in current conversation, ran involuntarily into -poetical imagery; and the language which was their vehicle, was a sort -of poetry in itself; so luxuriantly was it embellished with fanciful -allusions, or sportive notions, that, when he was highly animated in -conversation, the effusions of his imagination resembled his cadences -in music, by their excursionary flights, and impassioned bursts of -deep, yet tender sensibility.</p> - -<p>He made himself nearly as many friends in this - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 117]</span> - -country to whom he was endeared by his society, as admirers by whom he -was enthusiastically courted for his talents.</p> - -<p>The first Mrs. Sheridan, Miss Linley, whose sweet voice and manner so -often moved “the soul to transport, and the eyes to tears,” told Dr. -Burney, that Pacchierotti was the only singer who taught her to weep -from melting pleasure and admiration.</p> - -<p>He loved England even fervently; its laws, customs, manners, and -its liberty. Of this he gave the sincerest proofs throughout his long -life.<a name="FNanchor_19" id="FNanchor_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19" -class="fnanchor">[19]</a></p> - -<p>The English language, though so inharmonious compared with his own, -he made his peculiar study, from his desire to mingle with the best -society, and to enjoy its best authors; for both which he had a taste -the most classical and lively.</p> - -<p>He had the truly appropriate good fortune, for a turn of mind and -endowments so literary, to fall in the way of Mr. Mason immediately -upon coming over to this country: few persons could be more capable to -appreciate a union of mental with professional merit, than that elegant -poet; who with - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 118]</span> - -both in Pacchierotti was so much charmed, as to volunteer his services -in teaching him the English language.</p> - -<p>So Parnassian a preceptor was not likely to lead his studies from -their native propensity to the Muses; and the epistles and billets -which he wrote in English, all demonstrated that the Pegasus which he -spurred, when composition was his pursuit, was of the true Olympic -breed.<a name="FNanchor_20" id="FNanchor_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20" -class="fnanchor">[20]</a></p> - -<p>Pacchierotti was attached to Dr. Burney with equal affection and -reverence; while by the Doctor in return, the sight of Pacchierotti -was always hailed with cordial pleasure; and not more from the pathos -of his soul-touching powers of harmony, than from the sweetness, yet -poignancy of his discourse; and the delightful vivacity into which -he could be drawn by his favourites, from the pensive melancholy of -his habitual silence. Timidity and animation seemed to balance his -disposition with alternate sway; but his character was of a benevolence -that had no balance, no mixture whatsoever.</p> - -<p>The Doctor’s doggrel register of 1778, has these two couplets upon -Pacchierotti.<br /><br /></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 119]</span></p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center">“1778.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“This year Pacchierotti was order’d by Fate</div> - <div class="verse">Every vocal expression to teach us to hate,</div> - <div class="verse">Save his exquisite tones; which delight and surprise,</div> - <div class="verse">And lift us at once from the earth to the skies.”</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">LADY MARY DUNCAN.</h2> - -<p>Lady Mary Duncan, the great patroness of Pacchierotti, was one of the -most singular females of her day, for parts utterly uncultivated, and -mother-wit completely untrammelled by the etiquettes of custom. She -singled out Dr. Burney from her passion for his art; and attached -herself to his friendship from her esteem for his character; joined to -their entire sympathy in taste, feeling, and judgment, upon the merits -of Pacchierotti.</p> - -<p>This lady displayed in conversation a fund of humour, comic and -fantastic in the extreme, and more than bordering upon the burlesque, -through the extraordinary grimaces with which she enforced her meaning; -and the risible abruptness of a quick transition from the sternest -authority to the most facetious good fellowship, with which she -frequently altered the expression of her countenance while in debate.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 120]</span></p> - -<p>Her general language was a jargon entirely her own, and so enveloped -with strange phrases, ludicrously ungrammatical, that it was hardly -intelligible, till an exordium or two gave some insight into its -peculiarities: but then it commonly unfolded into sound, and even -sagacious panegyric of some favourite; or sharp sarcasm, and -extravagant mimicry, upon some one who had incurred her displeasure. -Her wrath, however, once promulgated, seemed to operate by its -utterance as a vent that disburthened her mind of all its angry -workings; and led her cordially to join her laugh with that of her -hearers; without either inquiry, or care, whether that laugh were at -her sayings or at herself.</p> - -<p>She was constantly dressed according to the costume of her early days, -in a hoop, with a long pointed stomacher and long pointed ruffles; -and a fly cap. She had a manly courage, a manly stamp, and a manly -hard-featured face: but her heart was as invariably generous and good, -as her manners were original and grotesque.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 121]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak">“EVELINA:</h2> - -<p class="center smaller">OR,</p> - -<p class="center">“A YOUNG LADY’S ENTRANCE INTO THE WORLD.”</p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p>A subject now propels itself forward that might better, it is probable, -become any pen than that on which it here devolves. It cannot, however, -be set aside in the Memoirs of Dr. Burney, to whom, and to the end of -his life, it proved a permanent source of deep and bosom interest: and -the Editor, with less unwillingness, though with conscious awkwardness, -approaches this egotistic history, from some recent information that -the obscurity in which its origin was encircled, has left, even yet, a -spur to curiosity and conjecture.</p> - -<p>It seems, therefore, a devoir due to the singleness of truth, to cut -short any future vague assertion on this small subject, by an explicit -narration of a simple, though rather singular tale; which, little as in -itself it can be worthy of public attention, may not wholly, perhaps, -be unamusing, from the celebrated characters that must necessarily -be involved in its relation; at the head of which, at this present -moment, she is tempted to disclose, in self-defence—a proud -self-defence!—of this personal obtrusion, the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 122]</span> - -<span class="smcap">living</span><a name="FNanchor_21" id="FNanchor_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> -names of Sir Walter Scott and Mr. Rogers, -who, in a visit with which they favoured her in the year 1826, repeated -some of the fabrications to which this mystery of her early life still -gave rise; and condescended to solicit a recital of the real history of -Evelina’s <cite>Entrance into the World</cite>.</p> - -<p>This she instantly communicated; though so incoherently, from the -embarrassment of the subject, and its long absence from her thoughts, -that, having since collected documents to refresh her memory, she -ventures, in gratefully dedicating the little incident to these -Illustrious Inquisitors, to insert its details in these memoirs—to -which, parentally, it in fact belongs.<a name="FNanchor_22" id="FNanchor_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22" -class="fnanchor">[22]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 123]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Frances</span>, the second daughter of Dr. Burney, was during her childhood -the most backward of all his family in the faculty of receiving -instruction. At eight years of age she was ignorant of the letters of -the alphabet; though at ten, she began scribbling, almost incessantly, -little works of invention; but always in private; and in scrawling -characters, illegible, save to herself.</p> - -<p>One of her most remote remembrances, previously to this writing mania, -is that of hearing a neighbouring lady recommend to Mrs. Burney, her - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 124]</span> - -mother, to quicken the indolence, or stupidity, whichever it might be, -of the little dunce, by the chastening ordinances of Solomon. The -alarm, however, of that little dunce, at a suggestion so wide from -the maternal measures that had been practised in her childhood, was -instantly superseded by a joy of gratitude and surprise that still -rests upon her recollection, when she heard gently murmured in reply, -“No, no,—I am not uneasy about her!”</p> - -<p>But, alas! the soft music of those encouraging accents had already -ceased to vibrate on human ears, before these scrambling pot-hooks had -begun their operation of converting into Elegies, Odes, Plays, Songs, -Stories, Farces,—nay, Tragedies and Epic Poems, every scrap of white -paper that could be seized upon without question or notice; for she -grew up, probably through the vanity-annihilating circumstances of this -conscious intellectual disgrace, with so affrighted a persuasion that -what she scribbled, if seen, would but expose her to ridicule, that her -pen, though her greatest, was only her clandestine delight.</p> - -<p>To one confidant, indeed, all was open; but the fond partiality of -the juvenile Susanna made her - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 125]</span> - -opinion of little weight; though the affection of her praise rendered -the stolen moments of their secret readings the happiest of their -adolescent lives.</p> - -<p>From the time, however, that she attained her fifteenth year, she -considered it her duty to combat this writing passion as illaudable, -because fruitless. Seizing, therefore, an opportunity, when Dr. Burney -was at Chesington, and the then Mrs. Burney, her mother-in-law, was -in Norfolk, she made over to a bonfire, in a paved play-court, her -whole stock of prose goods and chattels; with the sincere intention -to extinguish for ever in their ashes her scribbling propensity. But -Hudibras too well says—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“He who complies against his will,</div> - <div class="verse">Is of his own opinion still.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>This grand feat, therefore, which consumed her productions, -extirpated neither the invention nor the inclination that had given -them birth; and, in defiance of all the projected heroism of the -sacrifice, the last of the little works that was immolated, which was -the History of Caroline Evelyn, the Mother of Evelina, left, upon -the mind of the writer, so animated an impression of the singular -situations to which that Caroline’s infant daughter,—from the -unequal birth by which she hung suspended - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 126]</span> - -between the elegant connexions of her mother, and the vulgar ones of -her grandmother,—might be exposed; and presented contrasts and -mixtures of society so unusual, yet, thus circumstanced, so natural, -that irresistibly and almost unconsciously, the whole of <cite>A Young -Lady’s Entrance into the World</cite>, was pent up in the inventor’s memory, -ere a paragraph was committed to paper.</p> - -<p>Writing, indeed, was far more difficult to her than composing; for that -demanded what she rarely found attainable—secret opportunity: while -composition, in that hey-day of imagination, called only for volition.</p> - -<p>When the little narrative, however slowly, from the impediments that -always annoy what requires secrecy, began to assume a “questionable -shape;” a wish—as vague, at first, as it was fantastic—crossed the -brain of the writer, to “see her work in print.”</p> - -<p>She communicated, under promise of inviolable silence, this idea to her -sisters; who entered into it with much more amusement than surprise, as -they well knew her taste for quaint sports; and were equally aware of -the sensitive affright with which she shrunk from all personal remark.</p> - -<p>She now copied the manuscript in a feigned - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 127]</span> - -hand; for as she was the Doctor’s principal amanuensis, she feared her -common writing might accidentally be seen by some compositor of the -History of Music, and lead to detection.</p> - -<p>She grew weary, however, ere long, of an exercise so merely manual; -and had no sooner completed a copy of the first and second volumes, -than she wrote a letter, without any signature, to offer the unfinished -work to a bookseller; with a desire to have the two volumes immediately -printed, if approved; and a promise to send the sequel in the following -year.</p> - -<p>This was forwarded by the London post, with a desire that the answer -should be directed to a coffee-house.</p> - -<p>Her younger brother—the elder, Captain James, was ‘over the hills -and far away,’—her younger brother, afterwards the celebrated Greek -scholar, gaily, and without reading a word of the work, accepted a -share in so whimsical a frolic; and joyously undertook to be her agent -at the coffee-house with her letters, and to the bookseller with the -manuscript.</p> - -<p>After some consultation upon the choice of a bookseller, Mr. Dodsley -was fixed upon; for Dodsley, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 128]</span> - -from his father’s,—or perhaps grand-father’s,—well chosen -collection of fugitive poetry, stood foremost in the estimation of the -juvenile set.</p> - -<p>Mr. Dodsley, in answer to the proposition, declined looking at any -thing that was anonymous.</p> - -<p>The party, half-amused, half-provoked, sat in full committee upon this -lofty reply; and came to a resolution to forego the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">eclât</i> of the west -end of the town, and to try their fortune with the urbanity of the city.</p> - -<p>Chance fixed them upon the name of Mr. Lowndes.</p> - -<p>The city of London here proved more courtly than that of Westminster; -and, to their no small delight, Mr. Lowndes desired to see the -manuscript.</p> - -<p>And what added a certain pride to the author’s satisfaction in this -assent, was, that the answer opened by</p> - -<p>“Sir,”—</p> - -<p>which gave her an elevation to manly consequence, that had not been -accorded to her by Mr. Dodsley, whose reply began</p> - -<p>“Sir, or Madam.”</p> - -<p>The young agent was muffled up now by the laughing committee, in an old -great coat, and a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 129]</span> - -large old hat, to give him a somewhat antique as -well as vulgar disguise; and was sent forth in the dark of the evening -with the two first volumes to Fleet-street, where he left them to their -fate.</p> - -<p>In trances of impatience the party awaited the issue of the examination.</p> - -<p>But they were all let down into the very ‘Slough of Despond,’ when the -next coffee-house letter coolly declared, that Mr. Lowndes could not -think of publishing an unfinished book; though he liked the work, and -should be ‘ready to purchase and print it when it should be finished.’</p> - -<p>There was nothing in this unreasonable; yet the disappointed author, -tired of what she deemed such priggish punctilio, gave up, for awhile, -and in dudgeon, all thought of the scheme.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, to be thwarted on the score of our inclination acts more -frequently as a spur than as a bridle; the third volume, therefore, -which finished <cite>The young lady’s entrance into the world</cite>, was, ere -another year could pass away, almost involuntarily completed and copied.</p> - -<p>But while the scribe was yet wavering whether to abandon or to -prosecute her enterprise, the chasm caused by this suspense to the -workings of her - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 130]</span> - -imagination, left an opening from their vagaries to a mental -interrogatory, whether it were right to allow herself such an -amusement, with whatever precautions she might keep it from the world, -unknown to her father?</p> - -<p>She had never taken any step without the sanction of his permission; -and had now refrained from requesting it, only through the confusion -of acknowledging her authorship; and the apprehension, or, rather, the -horror of his desiring to see her performance.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, reflection no sooner took place of action, than she -found, in this case at least, the poet’s maxim reversed, and that</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center smaller">‘The female who deliberates—is sav’d,’</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>for she saw in its genuine light what was her duty; and seized, -therefore, upon a happy moment of a kind <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête à tête</i> with her father, -to avow, with more blushes than words, her secret little work; and her -odd inclination to see it in print; hastily adding, while he looked -at her, incredulous of what he heard, that her brother Charles would -transact the business with a distant bookseller, who should never know -her name. She only, therefore, entreated that he would not himself ask -to see the manuscript.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 131]</span></p> - -<p>His amazement was without parallel; yet it seemed surpassed by his -amusement; and his laugh was so gay, that, revived by its cheering -sound, she lost all her fears and embarrassment, and heartily joined in -it; though somewhat at the expence of her new author-like dignity.</p> - -<p>She was the last person, perhaps, in the world from whom Dr. Burney -could have expected a similar scheme. He thought her project, however, -as innocent as it was whimsical, and offered not the smallest -objection; but, kindly embracing her, and calling himself <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">le père -confident</i>, he enjoined her to be watchful that Charles was discreet; -and to be invariably strict in guarding her own incognita: and then, -having tacitly granted her personal petition, he dropt the subject.</p> - -<p>With fresh eagerness, now, and heightened spirits, the -incipient author rolled up her packet for the bookseller; which -was carried to him by a newly trusted agent,<a name="FNanchor_23" id="FNanchor_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> -her brother being then in the country.</p> - -<p>The suspense was short; in a very few days Mr. Lowndes sent his -approbation of the work, with</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 132]</span></p> - -<p>an offer of 20<i>l.</i> for the manuscript—an offer which was accepted with -alacrity, and boundless surprise at its magnificence!!</p> - -<p>The receipt for this settlement, signed simply by “<cite>the Editor of -Evelina</cite>,” was conveyed by the new agent to Fleet-street.</p> - -<p>In the ensuing January, 1778, the work was published; a fact which only -became known to its writer, who had dropped all correspondence with Mr. -Lowndes, from hearing the following advertisement read, accidentally, -aloud at breakfast-time, by Mrs. Burney, her mother-in-law.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center smaller"><i>This day was published</i>,</p> - -<p class="center">EVELINA,</p> - -<p class="center smcap">or, a young lady’s entrance into the world.</p> - -<p class="center smaller">Printed for <span class="smcap">T. Lowndes</span>, Fleet-street.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>Mrs. Burney, who read this unsuspectingly, went on immediately to other -articles; but, had she lifted her eyes from the paper, something more -than suspicion must have met them, from the conscious colouring of the -scribbler, and the irresistible smiles of the two sisters, Susanna and -Charlotte, who were present.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 133]</span></p> - -<p>Dr. Burney probably read the same advertisement the same morning; but -as he knew neither the name of the book, nor of the bookseller, nor the -time of publication, he must have read it without comment, or thought.</p> - -<p>In this projected and intended security from public notice, the author -passed two or three months, during which the Doctor asked not a -question; and perhaps had forgotten the secret with which he had been -entrusted; for, besides the multiplicity of his affairs, his mind, just -then, was deeply disturbed by rising dissension, from claims the most -unwarrantable, with Mr. Greville.</p> - -<p>And even from her own mind, the book, with all that belonged to -it, was soon afterwards chased, through the absorbent fears of seeing -her father dangerously attacked by an acute fever; from which by -the admirable prescriptions and skill of Sir Richard Jebb, he was -barely recovered, when she herself, who had been incautiously eager -in aiding her mother and sisters in their assiduous attendance upon -the invaluable invalid, was taken ill with strong symptoms of an -inflammation of the lungs: and though, through the sagacious directions -of the same penetrating physician, she was soon pronounced - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 134]</span> - -to be out of immediate danger, she was so shaken in health and -strength, that Sir Richard enjoined her quitting London for the recruit -of country air. She was therefore conveyed to Chesington Hall, where -she was received and cherished by a second father in Mr. Crisp; with -whom, and his associates, the worthy Mrs. Hamilton and Miss Cooke, she -remained for a considerable time.</p> - -<p>A few days before she left town, Dr. Burney, in a visit to her bedside, -revealed to her his late painful disagreement with Mr. Greville; but -told her that they had, at length, come to a full explanation, which -had brought Mr. Greville once more to his former and agreeable self; -and had terminated in a complete reconciliation.</p> - -<p>He then read to her, in confidence, a poetical epistle,<a name="FNanchor_24" id="FNanchor_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> -which he had just composed, and was preparing to send to his restored -friend; but which was expressed in terms so affecting, that they nearly -proved the reverse of restoration, in her then feeble state, to his -fondly attached daughter.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney’s intercourse with Mr. Greville was then again resumed; and -continued with rational,</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 135]</span></p> - -<p>but true regard, on the part of Dr. Burney; but with an intemperate -importunity on that of Mr. Greville, that claimed time which could not -be spared; and leisure which could not be found.</p> - -<p>Evelina had now been published four or five months, though Dr. Burney -still knew nothing of its existence; and the author herself had learnt -it only by the chance-read advertisement already mentioned. Yet had -that little book found its way abroad; fallen into general reading; -gone through three editions, and been named with favour in sundry -Reviews; till, at length, a sort of cry was excited amongst its readers -for discovering its author.</p> - -<p>That author, it will naturally be imagined, would repose her secret, -however sacred, in the breast of so confidential a counsellor as Mr. -Crisp.</p> - -<p>And not trust, indeed, was there wanting! far otherwise! But as she -required no advice for what she never meant to avow, and had already -done with, she had no motive of sufficient force to give her courage -for encountering his critic eye. She never, therefore, ventured, and -never purposed to venture revealing to him her anonymous exploit.</p> - -<p>June came; and a sixth month was elapsing in the same silent -concealment, when early one morning - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 136]</span> - -the Doctor, with great eagerness and hurry, began a search amongst -the pamphlets in his study for a Monthly Review, which he demanded of -his daughter Charlotte, who alone was in the room. After finding it, -he earnestly examined its contents, and then looked out hastily for -an article which he read with a countenance of so much emotion, that -Charlotte stole softly behind him, to peep over his shoulder; and then -saw, with surprise and joy, that he was perusing an account, which she -knew to be most favourable, of Evelina, beginning, ‘A great variety of -natural characters—’</p> - -<p>When he had finished the article, he put down the Review, and sat -motionless, without raising his eyes, and looking in deep—but charmed -astonishment. Suddenly, then, he again snatched the Review, and again -ran over the article, with an air yet more intensely occupied. Placing -it afterwards on the chimney-piece, he walked about the room, as if to -recover breath, and recollect himself; though always with looks of the -most vivid pleasure.</p> - -<p>Some minutes later, holding the Review in his hand, while inspecting -the table of contents, he beckoned to Charlotte to approach; and -pointing to “Evelina,” ‘you know,’ he said, in a whisper, ‘that - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 137]</span> - -book? Send William for it to Lowndes’, as if for yourself; and give it -to me when we are alone.’</p> - -<p>Charlotte obeyed; and, joyous in sanguine expectation, delivered to him -the little volumes, tied up in brown paper, in his study, when, late at -night, he came home from some engagement.</p> - -<p>He locked them up in his bureau, without speaking, and retired to his -chamber.</p> - -<p>The kindly impatient Charlotte was in his study the next morning with -the lark, waiting the descent of the Doctor from his room.</p> - -<p>He, also, was early, and went straight to his desk, whence, taking out -and untying the parcel, he opened the first volume upon the little ode -to himself,—“Oh author of my being! far more dear,” &c.</p> - -<p>He ejaculated a ‘Good God!’ and his eyes were suffused with tears.</p> - -<p>Twice he read it, and then re-committed the book to his writing desk, -as if his mind were too full for further perusal; and dressed, and went -out, without uttering a syllable.</p> - -<p>All this the affectionate Charlotte wrote to her sister; who read it -with a perturbation inexpressible. It was clear that the Doctor had -discovered the name of her book; and learned, also, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 138]</span> - -that Charlotte was -one of her cabal: but how, was inexplicable; though what would be his -opinion of the work absorbed now all the thoughts and surmises of the -clandestine author.</p> - -<p>From this time, he frequently, though privately and confidentially, -spoke with all the sisters upon the subject; and with the kindliest -approbation.</p> - -<p>From this time, also, daily accounts of the progress made by the -Doctor in reading the work; or of the progress made in the world by -the work itself, were transmitted to recreate the Chesington invalid -from the eagerly kind sisters; the eldest of which, soon afterwards, -wrote a proposal to carry to Chesington, for reading to Mr. Crisp, ‘an -anonymous new work that was running about the town, called Evelina.’</p> - -<p>She came; and performed her promised office with a warmth of heart -that glowed through every word she read, and gave an interest to every -detail.</p> - -<p>With flying colours, therefore, the book went off, not only with the -easy social circle, but with Mr. Crisp himself; and without the most -remote suspicion that the author was in the midst of the audience; -a circumstance that made the whole perusal seem to that author the -most pleasant of - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 139]</span> - -comedies, from the innumerable whimsical incidents -to which it gave rise, alike in panegyrics and in criticisms, which -alternately, and most innocently, were often addressed to herself; and -accompanied with demands of her opinions, that forced her to perplexing -evasions, productive of the most ludicrous confusion, though of the -highest inward diversion.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, Dr. Burney, uninformed of this transaction, yet justly -concluding that, whether the book were owned or not, some one of the -little committee would be carrying it to Chesington; sent an injunction -to procrastinate its being produced, as he himself meant to be its -reader to Mr. Crisp.</p> - -<p>This touching testimony of his parental interest in its success with -the first and dearest of their friends, came close to the heart -for which it was designed, with feelings of strong—and yet living -gratitude!</p> - -<p>Equally unexpected and exhilarating to the invalid were all these -occurrences: but of much deeper marvel still was the narrative which -follows, and which she received about a week after this time.</p> - -<p>In a letter written in this month, June, her sister Susanna stated -to her, that just as she had retired to her own room, on the evening -preceding - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 140]</span> - -its date, their father returned from his usual weekly visit -to Streatham, and sent for her to his study.</p> - -<p>She immediately perceived, by his expanded brow, that he had something -extraordinary, and of high agreeability, to divulge.</p> - -<p>As the Memorialist arrives now at the first mention, in this little -transaction, of a name that the public seems to hail with augmenting -eagerness in every trait that comes to light, she will venture to copy -the genuine account in which that honoured name first occurs; and -which was written to her by her sister Susanna, with an unpretending -simplicity that may to some have a certain charm; and that to no one -can be offensive.</p> - -<p>After the opening to the business that has just been abridged, Susanna -thus goes on.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>“‘Oh my dear girl, how shall I surprise you! Prepare yourself, I -beseech, not to be too much moved.</p> - -<p>“‘I have such a thing,’ cried our dear father, ‘to tell you about our -poor Fanny!—’</p> - -<p>“‘Dear Sir, what?’ cried I; afraid he had been betraying your secret to -Mrs. Thrale; which I know he longed to do.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 141]</span></p> - -<p>“He only smiled—but such a smile of pleasure I never saw! ‘Why to -night at Streatham,’ cried he, while we were sitting at tea, only -Dr. Johnson, Mrs. Thrale, Miss Thrale, and myself. ‘Madam,’ cried -Dr. Johnson, see-sawing on his chair, ‘Mrs. Cholmondeley was talking -to me last night of a new novel, which she says has a very uncommon -share of merit; Evelina. She says she has not been so entertained this -great while as in reading it; and that she shall go all over London to -discover the author.’</p> - -<p>“Do you breathe, my dear Fanny?</p> - -<p>“‘Odd enough!’ cried Mrs. Thrale; ‘why somebody else mentioned that -book to me t’other day—Lady Westcote it was, I believe. The modest -writer of Evelina, she talked about.’</p> - -<p>“‘Mrs. Cholmondeley says,’ answered the Doctor, ‘that she never before -met so much modesty with so much merit in any literary production of -the kind, as is implied by the concealment of the author.’</p> - -<p>“‘Well,—’ cried I, continued my father, smiling more and more, -‘somebody recommended that book to me, too; and I read a little of -it—which, indeed—seemed to be above the commonplace works of this -kind.’</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Thrale said she would certainly get it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 142]</span></p> - -<p>“‘You <em>must</em> have it, madam!’ cried Johnson, emphatically; ‘Mrs. -Cholmondeley says she shall keep it on her table the whole summer, that -every body that knows her may see it; for she asserts that every body -ought to read it! And she has made Burke get it—and Reynolds.’</p> - -<p>“A tolerably agreeable conversation, methinks, my dear Fanny! It took -away my breath, and made me skip about like a mad creature.</p> - -<p>“‘And how did you feel, Sir?’ said I to my father, when I could speak.</p> - -<p>“‘Feel?—why I liked it of all things! I wanted somebody to introduce -the book at Streatham. ’Twas just what I wished, but could not expect!’</p> - -<p>“I could not for my life, my dearest Fanny, help saying that—even if -it should be discovered, shy as you were of being known, it would do -you no discredit. ‘Discredit?’ he repeated; ‘no, indeed!—quite the -reverse! It would be a credit to her—and to me!—and to you—and to -all her family!</p> - -<p>“Now, my dearest Fanny—pray how do you do?—”</p> - -<p>Vain would be any attempt to depict the astonishment of the author at -this communication—the astonishment, or—the pleasure!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 143]</span></p> - -<p>And, in truth, in private life, few small events can possibly have -been attended with more remarkable incidents. That a work, voluntarily -consigned by its humble author, even from its birth, to oblivion, -should rise from her condemnation, and,</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center smaller">“‘Unpatronized, unaided, unknown,’</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>make its way through the metropolis, in passing from the Monthly Review -into the hands of the beautiful Mrs. Bunbury; and from her’s arriving -at those of the Hon. Mrs. Cholmondeley; whence, triumphantly, it should -be conveyed to Sir Joshua Reynolds; made known to Mr. Burke; be mounted -even to the notice of Dr. Johnson, and reach Streatham;—and that there -its name should first be pronounced by the great lexicographer himself; -and,—by mere chance,—in the presence of Dr. Burney; seemed more like -a romance, even to the Doctor himself, than anything in the book that -was the cause of these coincidences.</p> - -<p>Very soon afterwards, another singular circumstance, and one of great -flutter to the spirits of the hidden author, reached her from the kind -sisters. Upon the succeeding excursion of Dr. Burney to Streatham, Mrs. -Thrale, most unconsciously, commissioned him to order Mr. Lowndes to - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 144]</span> - -send her down Evelina.</p> - -<p>From this moment, the composure of Chesington was over for the -invalid, though not so the happiness! unequalled, in a short time, -that became—unequalled as it was wonderful. Dr. Burney now, from -his numerous occupations, stole a few hours for a flying visit to -Chesington; where his meeting with his daughter, just rescued from the -grave, and still barely convalescent, at a period of such peculiar -interest to his paternal, and to her filial heart, was of the tenderest -description. Yet, earnestly as she coveted his sight, she felt almost -afraid, and quite ashamed, to be alone with him, from her doubts how he -might accept her versified dedication.</p> - -<p>She held back, therefore, from any <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête à tête</i> till he sent for her -to his little gallery cabinet; or in Mr. Crisp’s words, conjuring -closet. But there, when he had shut the door, with a significant -smile, that told her what was coming, and gave a glow to her very -forehead from anxious confusion, he gently said, ‘I have read your -book, Fanny!—but you need not blush at it—it is full of merit—it is, -really,—extraordinary!’</p> - -<p>She fell upon his neck with heart-throbbing - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 145]</span> - -emotion; and he folded -her in his arms so tenderly, that she sobbed upon his shoulder; so -moved was she by his precious approbation. But she soon recovered to -a gayer pleasure—a pleasure more like his own; though the length of -her illness had made her almost too weak for sensations that were -mixed with such excess of amazement. She had written the little book, -like innumerable of its predecessors that she had burnt, simply for -her private recreation. She had printed it for a frolic, to see how a -production of her own would figure in that author-like form. But that -was the whole of her plan. And, in truth, her unlooked for success -evidently surprised her father quite as much as herself.</p> - -<p>But what was her start, when he told her that her book was then -actually running the gauntlet at Streatham; and condescended to ask her -leave, if Mrs. Thrale should happen to be pleased with it, to let her -into the secret!</p> - -<p>Startled was she indeed, nay, affrighted; for concealment was still her -changeless wish and unalterable purpose. But the words: ‘If Mrs. Thrale -should happen to be pleased with it,’ made her ashamed to demur; and -she could only reply that, upon such a stipulation, she saw no risk of -confidence, for - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 146]</span> - -Mrs. Thrale was no partial relative. She besought him, -however, not to betray her to Mr. Crisp, whom she dreaded as a critic -as much as she loved as a friend.</p> - -<p>He laughed at her fright, yet forbore agitating her apprehensive -spirits by pressing, at that moment, any abrupt disclosure; and, having -gained his immediate point with regard to Mrs. Thrale, he drove off -eagerly and instantly to Streatham.</p> - -<p>And his eagerness there received no check; he found not only Mrs. -Thrale, but her daughter, and sundry visitors, so occupied by Evelina, -that some quotation from it was apropos to whatever was said or done.</p> - -<p>An enquiry was promptly made, whether Mrs. Cholmondeley had yet found -out the author of Evelina?—‘because,’ said Mrs. Thrale, ‘I long to -know him of all things.’</p> - -<p>The Him produced a smile that, as soon as they were alone, elicited -an explanation; and the kind civilities that ensued may easily be -conceived.</p> - -<p>Every word of them was forwarded to Chesington by the participating -sisters, as so many salutary medicines, they said, for returning -health and strength. And, speedily after, they were followed - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 147]</span> - -by a prescription of the same character, so potent, so superlative, as -to take place of all other mental medicine.</p> - -<p>This was conveyed in a packet from Susanna, containing the ensuing -letter from Mrs. Thrale to Dr. Burney; written two days after she had -put the first volume of Evelina into her coach, as Dr. Johnson was -quitting Streatham for a day’s residence in Bolt Court.</p> - -<p class="pindent1">“‘Dear Doctor Burney,</p> - -<p class="pindent2">“‘Doctor Johnson returned home last night full of the praises of the -book I had lent him; protesting there were passages in it that might do -honour to Richardson. We talk of it for ever; and he, Doctor Johnson, -feels ardent after the denouement. <em>He could not get rid of the Rogue!</em> -he said. I then lent him the second volume, which he instantly read; -and he is, even now, busy with the third.</p> - -<p>“‘You must be more a philosopher, and less a father than I wish you, -not to be pleased with this letter; and the giving such pleasure yields -to nothing but receiving it. Long, my dear Sir, may you live to enjoy -the just praises of your children! - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 148]</span> - -And long may they live to deserve and delight such a parent!’”</p> - -<p>This packet was accompanied by intelligence, that Sir Joshua Reynolds -had been fed while reading the little work, from refusing to quit it -at table! and that Edmund Burke had sat up a whole night to finish -it!!! It was accompanied, also, by a letter from Dr. Burney, that -almost dissolved the happy scribbler with touching delight, by its -avowal of his increased approbation upon a second reading: “Thou hast -made,” he says, “thy old father laugh and cry at thy pleasure.... I -never yet heard of a novel writer’s statue;<a name="FNanchor_25" id="FNanchor_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a>—yet who knows?—above -all things, then, take care of thy head, for if that should be at all -turned out of its place by all this intoxicating success, what sort of -figure wouldst thou cut upon a pedestal? <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Prens y bien garde!</i>’</p> - -<p>This playful goodness, with the wondrous news that Doctor Johnson -himself had deigned to read the little book, so struck, so nearly -bewildered the author, that, seized with a fit of wild spirits, and not -knowing how to account for the vivacity of her emotion to Mr. Crisp, -she darted out of the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 149]</span> - -room in which she had read the tidings by his side, to a small lawn -before the window, where she danced, lightly, blithely, gaily, around -a large old mulberry tree, as impulsively and airily as she had often -done in her days of adolescence: and Mr. Crisp, though he looked on -with some surprise, wore a smile of the most expressive kindness, -that seemed rejoicing in the sudden resumption of that buoyant -spirit of springing felicity, which, in her first visits to Liberty -Hall—Chesington,—had made the mulberry tree the favourite site of her -juvenile vagaries.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney sent, also, a packet from Mr. Lowndes, containing ten sets -of Evelina very handsomely bound: and the scribbler had the extreme -satisfaction to see that Mr. Lowndes was still in the dark as to his -correspondent, the address being the same as the last;—</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">To Mr. Grafton,</span></p> - -<p class="sig-right30"><i>Orange Coffee-House</i>,</p> - -<p>and the opening of the letter still being, Sir.</p> - -<p>When Chesington air, kindness, and freedom, had completely chased -away every symptom of disease, Dr. Burney hastened thither himself; -and arrived in the highest, happiest spirits. He had three objects in -view, each of them filling his lively heart - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 150]</span> - -with gay ideas; the first -was to bring back to his own roof his restored daughter: the second, -was to tell a laughable tale of wonder to the most revered friend of -both, for which he had previously written to demand her consent: and -the third, was to carry that daughter to Streatham, and present her, by -appointment, to Mrs. Thrale, and—to Dr. Johnson!</p> - -<p>No sooner had the Doctor reached Liberty Hall, than the two faithful -old friends were shut up in the <em>conjuring closet</em> where Dr. Burney -rushed at once into “the midst of things,” and disclosed the author of -the little work which, for some weeks past, had occupied Chesington -Hall with quotations, conjectures, and subject matter of talk.</p> - -<p>All that belongs, or that ever can belong, in matters of small moment, -to amazement, is short of what was experienced by Mr. Crisp at this -recital: and his astonishment was so prodigious not to have heard of -her writing at all, till he heard of it in a printed work that was -running all over London, and had been read, and approved of by Dr. -Johnson and Edmund Burke; that, with all his powers of speech, his -choice of language, and his general variety of expression, he could -utter no phrase but “Wonderful!”—which burst forth at once on the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 151]</span> - -discovery; accompanied each of its details; and was still the only vent -to the fullness of his surprise when he had heard the whole history.</p> - -<p>That she had consulted neither of these parents in this singular -undertaking, diverted them both: well they knew that no distrust -had caused the concealment, but simply an apprehension of utter -insufficiency to merit their suffrages.</p> - -<p>What a dream did all this seem to this Memorialist! The fear, however, -of a reverse, checked all that might have rendered it too delusive; -and she earnestly supplicated that the communication might be spread -no further, lest it should precipitate a spirit of criticism, which -retirement and mystery kept dormant: and which made all her wishes -still unalterable for remaining unknown and unsuspected.</p> - -<p>The popularity of this work did not render it very lucrative; ten -pounds a volume, by the addition of ten pounds to the original twenty, -after the third edition, being all that was ever paid, or ever offered -to the author; whose unaffectedly humble idea of its worth had cast -her, unconditionally, upon any terms that might be proposed.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney, enchanted at the new scene of life to which he was -now carrying his daughter, of an - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 152]</span> - -introduction to Streatham, and -a presentation to Dr. Johnson, took a most cordial leave of the -congratulatory Mr. Crisp; who sighed, nevertheless, in the midst of -his satisfaction, from a prophetic anticipation of the probable and -sundering calls from his peaceful habitation, of which he thought -this new scene likely to be the result. But the object of this kind -solicitude, far from participating in these fears, was curbed from -the full enjoyment of the honours before her, by a well-grounded -apprehension that Dr. Johnson, at least, if not Mrs. Thrale, might -expect a more important, and less bashful sort of personage, than she -was sure would be found.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney, aware of her dread, because aware of her retired life and -habits, and her native taste for personal obscurity, strove to laugh -off her apprehensions by disallowing their justice; and was himself all -gaiety and spirit.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Thrale, who was walking in her paddock, came to the door of the -carriage to receive them; and poured forth a vivacity of thanks to the -Doctor for bringing his daughter, that filled that daughter with the -most agreeable gratitude; and soon made her so easy and comfortable, -that she forgot the formidable renown of wit and satire that were - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 153]</span> - -coupled with the name of Mrs. Thrale; and the whole weight of her -panic, as well as the whole energy of her hopes, devolved upon the -approaching interview with Dr. Johnson.</p> - -<p>But there, on the contrary, Dr. Burney felt far greater security. -Dr. Johnson, however undesignedly, nay, involuntarily, had been the -cause of the new author’s invitation to Streatham, from being the -first person who there had pronounced the name of Evelina; and that -previously to the discovery that its unknown writer was the daughter -of a man whose early enthusiasm for Dr. Johnson had merited his warm -acknowledgments; and whose character and conversation had since won -his esteem and friendship. Dr. Burney therefore prognosticated, that -such a circumstance could not but strike the vivid imagination of Dr. -Johnson as a romance of real life; and additionally interest him for -the unobtrusive author of the little work, which, wholly by chance, he -had so singularly helped to bring forward.</p> - -<p>The curiosity of Dr. Johnson, however, though certainly excited, was -by no means so powerful as to allure him from his chamber one moment -before his customary time of descending to dinner; and the new author -had three or four hours to pass in - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 154]</span> - -constantly augmenting trepidation: -for the prospect of seeing him, which so short a time before would -have sufficed for her delight, was now chequered by the consciousness -that she could not, as heretofore, be in his presence only for her own -gratification, without any reciprocity of notice.</p> - -<p>She was introduced, meanwhile, to Mr. Thrale, whose reception of her -was gentle and gentleman-like; and such as shewed his belief in the -verity of her desire to have her authorship unmarked.</p> - -<p>She saw also Miss Thrale,<a name="FNanchor_26" id="FNanchor_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> then barely entered into adolescence, -though full of sense and cultivated talents; but as shy as herself, and -consequently as little likely to create alarm.</p> - -<p>One visitor only was at the house, Mr. Seward, afterwards author of -Biographiana; a singular, but very agreeable, literary, and beneficent -young man.</p> - -<p>The morning was passed in the library, and, to the Doctor and his -daughter was passed deliciously: Mrs. Thrale, much amused by the -presence of two persons so peculiarly situated, put forth her utmost -powers of pleasing; and though that great engine to success, flattery, -was not spared, she wielded it with so much - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 155]</span> - -skill, and directed it with so much pleasantry, that all disconcerting -effects were chased aside, to make it only produce laughter and good -humour; through which gay auxiliaries every trait meant, latently, for -the fearful daughter, was openly and plumply addressed to the happy -father.</p> - -<p>“I wish you had been with us last night, Dr. Burney,” she said; “for -thinking of what would happen to-day, we could talk of nothing in the -world but a certain sweet book; and Dr. Johnson was so full of it, -that he quite astonished us. He has got those incomparable Brangtons -quite by heart, and he recited scene after scene of their squabbles, -and selfishness, and forwardness, till he quite shook his sides with -laughter. But his greatest favourite is The Holbourn Beau, as he calls -Mr. Smith. Such a fine varnish, he says, of low politeness! such -struggles to appear the fine gentleman! such a determination to be -genteel! and, above all, such profound devotion to the ladies,—while -openly declaring his distaste to matrimony!——All this Mr. Johnson -pointed out with so much comicality of sport, that, at last, he got -into such high spirits, that he set about personating Mr. Smith -himself! We all thought we must have died no other death than that - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 156]</span> - -of -suffocation, in seeing Dr. Johnson handing about any thing he could -catch, or snatch at, and making smirking bows, saying he was <em>all for -the ladies,—every thing that was agreeable to the ladies</em>, &c. &c. -&c., ‘except,’ says he, ‘going to church with them! and as to that, -though marriage, to be sure, is all in all to the ladies, marriage -to a man—is the devil!’ And then he pursued his personifications of -his Holbourn Beau, till he brought him to what Mr. Johnson calls his -climax; which is his meeting with Sir Clement Willoughby at Madame -Duval’s, where a blow is given at once to his self-sufficiency, by -the surprise and confusion of seeing himself so distanced; and the -hopeless envy with which he looks up to Sir Clement, as to a meteor -such as he himself had hitherto been looked up to at Snow Hill, that -give a finishing touch to his portrait. And all this comic humour of -character, he says, owes its effect to contrast; for without Lord -Orville, and Mr. Villars, and that melancholy and gentleman-like -half-starved Scotchman, poor Macartney, the Brangtons, and the Duvals, -would be less than nothing; for vulgarity, in its own unshadowed glare, -is only disgusting.”</p> - -<p>This account is abridged from a long journal - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 157]</span> - -letter of the -Memorialist; addressed to Mr. Crisp; but she will hazard copying -more at length, from the same source, the original narration of her -subsequent introduction to the notice of Dr. Johnson; as it may not -be incurious to the reader, to see that great man in the uncommon -light of courteously, nay playfully, subduing the fears, and raising -the courage, of a newly discovered, but yet unavowed young author, by -unexpected sallies and pointed allusions to characters in her work; -not as to beings that were the product of her imagination, but as to -persons of his own acquaintance, and in real life.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">“TO SAMUEL CRISP, ESQ.</h2> - -<p class="center">“<i>Chesington, Kingston, Surrey.</i></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Well, when, at last, we were summoned to dinner, Mrs. Thrale made my -father and myself sit on each side of her. I said, I hoped I did not -take the place of Dr. Johnson? for, to my great consternation, he did -not even yet appear, and I began to apprehend he meant to abscond. -‘No,’ answered Mrs. Thrale; ‘he will sit next to you,—and that, I am -sure, will give him great pleasure.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 158]</span></p> - -<p>Soon after we were all marshalled, the great man entered. I have so -sincere a veneration for him, that his very sight inspires me with -delight as well as reverence, notwithstanding the cruel infirmities -to which, as I have told you, he is subject. But all that, outwardly, -is so unfortunate, is so nobly compensated by all that, within, is -excelling, that I can now only, like Desdemona for Othello, ‘view his -image in his mind.’</p> - -<p>Mrs. Thrale introduced me to him with an emphasis upon my name that -rather frightened me, for it seemed like a call for some compliment. -But he made me a bow the most formal, almost solemn, in utter silence, -and with his eyes bent downwards. I felt relieved by this distance, for -I thought he had forgotten, for the present at least, both the favoured -little book and the invited little scribbler; and I therefore began to -answer the perpetual addresses to me of Mrs. Thrale, with rather more -ease. But by the time I was thus recovered from my panic, Dr. Johnson -asked my father what was the composition of some little pies on his -side of the table; and, while my father was endeavouring to make it -out, Mrs. Thrale said, ‘Nothing but mutton, Mr. Johnson, so I don’t ask -you to eat such poor patties, because I know you despise them.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 159]</span></p> - -<p>‘No, Madam, no!’ cried Doctor Johnson, ‘I despise nothing that is good -of its sort. But I am too proud now, [smiling] to eat mutton pies! -Sitting by Miss Burney makes me very proud to-day!’</p> - -<p>“If you had seen, my dear Mr. Crisp, how wide I felt my eyes open!—A -compliment from Doctor Johnson!</p> - -<p>‘Miss Burney,’ cried Mrs. Thrale, laughing, ‘you must take great care -of your heart, if Mr. Johnson attacks it—for I assure you he is not -often successless!’</p> - -<p>‘What’s that you say, Madam?’ cried the Doctor; ‘are you making -mischief between the young lady and me already?’</p> - -<p>A little while afterwards, he drank Miss Thrale’s health and mine -together, in a bumper of lemonade; and then added: ‘It is a terrible -thing that we cannot wish young ladies to be well, without wishing them -to become old women!’</p> - -<p>‘If the pleasures of longevity were not gradual,’ said my father, ‘If -we were to light upon them by a jump or a skip, we should be cruelly at -a loss how to give them welcome!’</p> - -<p>‘But some people,’ said Mr. Seward, ‘are young and old at the same -time; for they wear so well, that they never look old.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 160]</span></p> - -<p>‘No, Sir, no!’ cried the Doctor; ‘that never yet was, and never will -be! You might as well say they were at the same time tall and short. -Though I recollect an epitaph,—I forget upon whom, to that purpose.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“‘Miss such a one—lies buried here,</div> - <div class="verse">So early wise, and lasting fair,</div> - <div class="verse">That none, unless her years you told,</div> - <div class="verse">Thought her a child—or thought her old.’</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>My father then mentioned Mr. Garrick’s epilogue to Bonduca, which Dr. -Johnson called a miserable performance; and which every body agreed to -be the worst that Mr. Garrick had ever written.</p> - -<p>‘And yet,’ said Mr. Seward, ‘it has been very much admired. But it is -in praise of English valour, and so, I suppose, the subject made it -popular.’</p> - -<p>‘I do not know, Sir,’ said Dr. Johnson, ‘any thing about the subject, -for I could not read till I came to any. I got through about half a -dozen lines; but for subject, I could observe no other than perpetual -dullness. I do not know what is the matter with David. I am afraid he -is becoming superannuated; for his prologues and epilogues used to be -incomparable.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 161]</span></p> - -<p>“Nothing is so fatiguing,” said Mrs. Thrale, “as the life of a wit. -Garrick and Wilkes are the oldest men of their age that I know; for -they have both worn themselves out prematurely by being eternally on -the rack to entertain others.”</p> - -<p>“David, Madam,” said the Doctor, “looks much older than he is, because -his face has had double the business of any other man’s. It is never at -rest! When he speaks one minute, he has quite a different countenance -to that which he assumes the next. I do not believe he ever kept the -same look for half an hour together in the whole course of his life. -And such a perpetual play of the muscles must certainly wear a man’s -face out before his time.”</p> - -<p>While I was cordially laughing at this idea, the Doctor, who had -probably observed in me some little uneasy trepidation, and now, I -suppose, concluded me restored to my usual state, suddenly, though very -ceremoniously, as if to begin some acquaintance with me, requested -that I would help him to some broccoli. This I did; but when he took -it, he put on a face of humorous discontent, and said, ‘Only <em>this</em>, -Madam?—You would not have helped Mr. Macartney so parsimoniously!’</p> - -<p>He affected to utter this in a whisper; but to - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 162]</span> - -see him directly -address me, caught the attention of all the table, and every one -smiled, though in silence; while I felt so surprised and so foolish! so -pleased and so ashamed, that I hardly knew whether he meant <em>my</em> Mr. -Macartney, or spoke at random of some other. This, however, he soon -put beyond all doubt, by very composedly adding, while contemptuously -regarding my imputed parsimony on his plate: “Mr. Macartney, it is -true, might have most claim to liberality, poor fellow!—for how, as -Tom Brangton shrewdly remarks, should he ever have known what a good -dinner was, if he had never come to England?”</p> - -<p>Perceiving, I suppose—for it could not be very difficult to -discern—the commotion into which this explication put me; and the -stifled disposition to a contagious laugh, which was suppressed, not to -add to my embarrassment; he quickly, but quietly, went on to a general -discourse upon Scotland, descriptive and political; but without point -or satire—though I cannot, my dear Mr. Crisp, give you one word of -it: not because I have forgotten it—for there is no remembering what -we have never heard; but because I could only generally gather the -subject. I could not listen to it. I was so confused and perturbed - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 163]</span> - -between pleasure and vexation—pleasure, indeed, in the approvance of -Dr. Johnson! but vexation, and great vexation to find, by the conscious -smirks of all around, that I was betrayed to the whole party! while I -had only consented to confiding in Mrs. Thrale; all, no doubt, from -a mistaken notion that I had merely meant to feel the pulse of the -public, and to avow, or to conceal myself, according to its beatings: -when heaven knows—and you, my dear Mr. Crisp, know, that I had not the -most distant purpose of braving publicity, under success, any more than -under failure.</p> - -<p>From Scotland, the talk fell, but I cannot tell how, upon some friend -of Dr. Johnson’s, of whom I did not catch the name; so I will call -him Mr. Three Stars, * * *; of whom Mr. Seward related some burlesque -anecdotes, from which Mr. * * * was warmly vindicated by the Doctor.</p> - -<p>“Better say no more, Mr. Seward,” cried Mrs. Thrale, “for Mr. * * * is -one of the persons that Mr. Johnson will suffer no one to abuse but -himself! Garrick is another: for if any creature but himself says a -word against Garrick—Mr. Johnson will brow-beat him in a moment.”</p> - -<p>“Why, Madam, as to David,” answered the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 164]</span> - -Doctor, very calmly, ‘it is -only because they do not know when to abuse and when to praise him; -and I will allow no man to speak any ill of David, that he does not -deserve. As to * * *,—why really I believe him to be an honest man, -too, at the bottom. But, to be sure, he is rather penurious; and he is -somewhat mean; and it must be owned he has some degree of brutality; -and is not without a tendency to savageness, that cannot well be -defended.’</p> - -<p>We all laughed, as he could not help doing himself, at such a curious -mode of taking up his friend’s justification. And he then related -a trait of another friend who had belonged to some club -<a name="FNanchor_27" id="FNanchor_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> that -the Doctor frequented, who, after the first or second night of his -admission, desired, as he eat no supper, to be excused paying his share -for the collation.</p> - -<p>“And was he excused, Sir?” cried my father.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Sir; and very readily. No man is angry with another for being -inferior to himself. We all admitted his plea publicly—for the -gratification of scorning him privately! For my own part, I was - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 165]</span> - -fool enough to constantly pay my share for the wine, which I never -tasted. But my poor friend Sir John, it cannot well be denied, was but -an unclubbable man.”</p> - -<p>How delighted was I to hear this master of languages, this awful, this -dreaded lexiphanes, thus sportively and gaily coin burlesque words in -social comicality!</p> - -<p>I don’t know whether he deigned to watch me, but I caught a glance of -his eye that seemed to shew pleasure in perceiving my surprise and -diversion, for with increased glee of manner he proceeded.—</p> - -<p>“This reminds me of a gentleman and lady with whom I once travelled. I -suppose I must call them gentleman and lady, according to form, because -they travelled in their own coach and four horses. But, at the first -inn where we stopped to water the cattle, the lady called to a waiter -for—a pint of ale! And, when it came, she would not taste it, till -she had wrangled with the man for not bringing her fuller measure! -Now—Madame Duval could not have done a grosser thing!”</p> - -<p>A sympathetic simper now ran from mouth to mouth, save to mine, and to -that of Dr. Johnson; who gravely pretended to pass off what he had - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 166]</span> - -said as if it were a merely accidental reminiscence of some vulgar old -acquaintance of his own. And this, as undoubtedly, and most kindly, he -projected, prevented any sort of answer that might have made the book -a subject of general discourse. And presently afterwards, he started -some other topic, which he addressed chiefly to Mr. Thrale. But if -you expect me to tell you what it was, you think far more grandly of -my powers of attention without, when all within is in a whirl, than I -deserve!</p> - -<p>Be it, however, what it might, the next time there was a pause, we -all observed a sudden play of the muscles in the countenance of the -Doctor, that shewed him to be secretly enjoying some ludicrous idea: -and accordingly, a minute or two after, he pursed up his mouth, and, in -an assumed pert, yet feminine accent, while he tossed up his head to -express wonder, he affectedly minced out, “La, Polly!—only think! Miss -has danced with a Lord!”</p> - -<p>This was resistless to the whole set, and a general, though a gentle -laugh, became now infectious; in which, I must needs own to you, I -could not, with all my embarrassment, and all my shame, and all my -unwillingness to demonstrate my consciousness, help - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 167]</span> - -being caught—so -indescribably ludicrous and unexpected was a mimicry of Miss Biddy -Brangton from Dr. Johnson!</p> - -<p>The Doctor, however, with a refinement of delicacy of which I have -the deepest sense, never once cast his eyes my way during these comic -traits; though those of every body else in the company had scarcely for -a moment any other direction.</p> - -<p>But imagine my relief and my pleasure, in playfulness such as this -from the great literary Leviathan, whom I had dreaded almost as much -as I had honoured! How far was I from dreaming of such sportive -condescension! He clearly wished to draw the little snail from her -cell, and, when once she was out, not to frighten her back. He seems to -understand my <em>queeralities</em>—as some one has called my not liking to -be set up for a sign-post—with more leniency than any body else.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>This long article of Evelina, will be closed by copying a brief one -upon the same subject, written from memory, by Dr. Burney, so late in -his life as the year 1808.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 168]</span></p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center smaller"><cite>Copied from a Memorandum-book of Dr. Burney’s, written<br /> -in the year 1808, at Bath.</cite></p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<div class="p8"> -<p>“The literary history of my second daughter, Fanny, now Madame -d’Arblay, is singular. She was wholly unnoticed in the nursery for any -talents, or quickness of study: indeed, at eight years old she did not -know her letters; and her brother, the tar, who in his boyhood had a -natural genius for hoaxing, used to pretend to teach her to read; and -gave her a book topsy-turvy, which he said she never found out! She -had, however, a great deal of invention and humour in her childish -sports; and used, after having seen a play in Mrs. Garrick’s box, to -take the actors off, and compose speeches for their characters; for -she could not read them. But in company, or before strangers, she -was silent, backward, and timid, even to sheepishness: and, from her -shyness, had such profound gravity and composure of features, that -those of my friends who came often to my house, and entered into the -different humours of the children, never called Fanny by any other -name, from the time she had reached her eleventh year, than The Old -Lady.</p> - -<p>Her first work, Evelina, was written by stealth, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 169]</span> - -in a closet up two -pair of stairs, that was appropriated to the younger children as a -play room. No one was let into the secret but my third daughter, -afterwards Mrs. Phillips; though even to her it was never read till -printed, from want of private opportunity. To me, nevertheless, she -confidentially owned that she was going, through her brother Charles, -to print a little work, but she besought me never to ask to see it. I -laughed at her plan, but promised silent acquiescence; and the book -had been six months published before I even heard its name; which I -learnt at last without her knowledge. But great, indeed, was then my -surprise, to find that it was in general reading, and commended in no -common manner in the several Reviews of the times. Of this she was -unacquainted herself, as she was then ill, and in the country. When -I knew its title, I commissioned one of her sisters to procure it -for me privately. I opened the first volume with fear and trembling; -not having the least idea that, without the use of the press, or any -practical knowledge of the world, she could write a book worth reading. -The dedication to myself, however, brought tears into my eyes; and -before I had read half the first volume I was much surprised, and, -I confess, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 170]</span> - -delighted; and most especially with the letters of Mr. -Villars. She had always had a great affection for me; had an excellent -heart, and a natural simplicity and probity about her that wanted no -teaching. In her plays with her sisters, and some neighbour’s children, -this straightforward morality operated to an uncommon degree in one so -young. There lived next door to me, at that time, in Poland street, and -in a private house, a capital hair merchant, who furnished peruques to -the judges, and gentlemen of the law. The merchant’s female children -and mine, used to play together in the little garden behind the house; -and, unfortunately, one day, the door of the wig magazine being left -open, they each of them put on one of those dignified ornaments of the -head, and danced and jumped about in a thousand antics, laughing till -they screamed at their own ridiculous figures. Unfortunately, in their -vagaries, one of the flaxen wigs, said by the proprietor to be worth -upwards of ten guineas—in those days a price enormous—fell into a tub -of water, placed for the shrubs in the little garden, and lost all its -gorgon buckle, and was declared by the owner to be totally spoilt. He -was extremely angry, and chid very severely his own children; - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 171]</span> - -when my -little daughter, the old lady, then ten years of age, advancing to him, -as I was informed, with great gravity and composure, sedately says; -“What signifies talking so much about an accident? The wig is wet, to -be sure; and the wig was a good wig, to be sure; but its of no use to -speak of it any more; because what’s done can’t be undone.”</p> - -<p>“Whether these stoical sentiments appeased the enraged peruquier, I -know not, but the younkers were stript of their honours, and my little -monkies were obliged to retreat without beat of drum, or colours -flying.”</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">STREATHAM.</h2> - -<p>From the very day of this happy inauguration of his daughter at -Streatham, the Doctor had the parental gratification of seeing her -as flatteringly greeted there as himself. So vivacious, indeed, was -the partiality towards her of its inhabitants, that they pressed him -to make over to them all the time he could spare her from her home; -and appropriated an apartment as sacredly for her use, when she could -occupy it, as another, far more deservedly, though not more cordially, -had, many years previously, been held sacred for Dr. Johnson.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 172]</span></p> - -<p>The social kindness for both father and daughter, of Mrs. Thrale, was -of the most endearing nature; trusting, confidential, affectionate. She -had a sweetness of manner, and an activity of service for those she -loved, that could ill be appreciated by others; for though copiously -flattering in her ordinary address to strangers, because always -desirous of universal suffrage, she spoke of individuals in general -with sarcasm; and of the world at large with sovereign contempt.</p> - -<p>Flighty, however, not malignant, was her sarcasm; and ludicrous more -frequently than scornful, her contempt. She wished no one ill. She -would have done any one good; but she could put no restraint upon wit -that led to a brilliant point, or that was productive of laughing -admiration: though her epigram once pronounced, she thought neither of -that nor of its object any more; and was just as willing to be friends -with a person whom she had held up to ridicule, as with one whom she -had laboured to elevate by panegyric.</p> - -<p>Her spirits, in fact, rather ruled than exhilarated her; and were -rather her guides than her support. Not that she was a child of nature. -She knew the world, and gaily boasted that she had studied mankind - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 173]</span> - -in what she called its most prominent school-electioneering. She was -rather, therefore, from her scoff of all consequences, a child of witty -irreflection.</p> - -<p>The first name on the list of the Streatham coterie at this time, was -that which, after Dr. Johnson’s, was the first, also, in the nation, -Edmund Burke. But his visits now, from whatever cause, were so rare, -that Dr. Burney never saw him in the Streatham constellation, save as -making one amongst the worthies whom the pencil of Sir Joshua Reynolds -had caught from all mundane meanderings, to place there as a fixed star.</p> - -<p>Next ranked Sir Joshua Reynolds himself, and Mr. Garrick.</p> - -<p>Dr. Goldsmith, who had been a peculiar favourite in the set, as much, -perhaps, for his absurdities as for his genius, was already gone; -though still, and it may be from this double motive, continually -missed and regretted: for what, in a chosen coterie, could be more -amusing,—many as are the things that might be more edifying,—than -gathering knowledge and original ideas in one moment, from the man who -the next, by the simplicity of his egotism, expanded every mouth by the -merriment of ridicule?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 174]</span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Montagu, Mrs. Boscowen, Mrs. Crewe, Lord Loughborough, Mr. -Dunning,<a name="FNanchor_28" id="FNanchor_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> Lord Mulgrave, Lord Westcote, Sir Lucas and Mr. Pepys<a name="FNanchor_29" id="FNanchor_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> -Major Holroyd,<a name="FNanchor_30" id="FNanchor_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> Mrs. Hinchcliffe, Mrs. Porteus, Miss Streatfield, -Miss Gregory,<a name="FNanchor_31" id="FNanchor_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> Dr. Lort, the Bishops of London and Peterborough -(Porteus and Hinchcliffe), with a long <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">et cætera</i> of visitors less -marked, filled up the brilliant catalogue of the spirited associates of -Streatham.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MR. MURPHY.</h2> - -<p>But the most intimate in the house, amongst the Wits, from being the -personal favourite of Mr. Thrale, was Mr. Murphy; who, for gaiety -of spirits, powers of dramatic effect, stories of strong humour and -resistless risibility, was nearly unequalled: and they were coupled -with politeness of address, gentleness of speech, and well bred, almost -courtly, demeanour.</p> - -<p>He was a man of great erudition,<a name="FNanchor_32" id="FNanchor_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> -without one particle of pedantry; - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 175]</span> - -and a stranger not only to spleen and malevolence, but the happiest -promoter of convivial hilarity.</p> - -<p>With what pleasure, and what pride, does the editor copy, from an -ancient diary, the following words that passed between Dr. Johnson -and Mr. Murphy, relative to Dr. Burney, upon the first meeting of the -editor with Mr. Murphy at Streatham!</p> - -<p>Mrs. Thrale was lamenting the sudden disappearance of Dr. Burney, who -was just gone to town <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">sans adieu</i>; declaring that he was the most -complete male-coquet she knew, for he only gave just enough of his -company to make more desired.</p> - -<p>“Dr. Burney,” said Mr. Murphy, “is, indeed, a most extraordinary man. I -think I do not know such another. He is at home upon all subjects; and -upon all is so highly agreeable! I look upon him as a wonderful man.”</p> - -<p>“I love Burney!” cried Dr. Johnson, emphatically: “my heart, as I told -him—goes out to meet Burney!”</p> - -<p>“He is not ungrateful, Sir,” cried the Doctor’s bairne, “for heartily -indeed does he love you!”</p> - -<p>“Does he, Madam?” said the Doctor, looking at her earnestly: “I am -surprised at that!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 176]</span></p> - -<p>“And why, Sir?—Why should you have doubted it?”</p> - -<p>“Because, Madam,” answered he, gravely, “Dr. Burney is a man for every -body to love. It is but natural to love <em>him</em>!”</p> - -<p>He paused, as if with an idea of a self-conceived contrast not -gaifying; but he soon cheerfully added, “I question if there be in -the world such another man, altogether, for mind, intelligence, and -manners, as Dr. Burney.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Johnson, at this time, was engaged in writing his Lives of the -Poets; a work, to him, so light and easy, that it never robbed his -friends of one moment of the time that he would, otherwise, have spared -to their society. Lives, however, strictly speaking, they are not; he -merely employed in them such materials, with respect to biography, -as he had already at hand, without giving himself any trouble in -researches for what might be new, or unknown; though he gladly accepted -any that were offered to him, if well authenticated, The critical -investigations alone he considered as his business. He himself never -named them but as prefaces. No man held in nobler scorn, a promise that -out-went performance.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 177]</span></p> - -<p>The ease and good-humour with which he fulfilled this engagement, made -the present a moment peculiarly propitious for the opening acquaintance -with him of the new, and by no means very hardened author; for whose -terrors of public notice he had a mercy the most indulgent. He quickly -saw that—whether wise or not—they were true; and soothed them without -raillery or reprehension; though in this he stood nearly alone! Her -fears of him, therefore, were soon softened off by his kindness; or -dispelled by her admiration.</p> - -<p>The friendship with which so early he had honoured the father, was -gently and at once, with almost unparalleled partiality, extended to -the daughter: and, in truth, the whole current of his intercourse with -both was as unruffled by storm as it was enlightened by wisdom.</p> - -<p>While this charming work was in its progress, when only the Thrale -family and its nearly adopted guests, the two Burneys, were assembled, -Dr. Johnson would frequently produce one of its proof sheets to -embellish the breakfast table, which was always in the library; and -was, certainly, the most sprightly and agreeable meeting of the day; -for then, as no strangers were present to stimulate exertion, or - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 178]</span> - -provoke rivalry, argument was not urged on by the mere spirit of -victory; it was instigated only by such truisms as could best bring -forth that conflict of <em>pros</em> and <em>cons</em> which elucidates opposing -opinions. Wit was not flashed with the keen sting of satire; yet it -elicited not less gaiety from sparkling with an unwounding brilliancy, -which brightened without inflaming, every eye, and charmed without -tingling, every ear.</p> - -<p>These proof sheets Mrs. Thrale was permitted to read aloud; and the -discussions to which they led were in the highest degree entertaining. -Dr. Burney wistfully desired to possess one of them; but left to his -daughter the risk of the petition. A hint, however, proved sufficient, -and was understood not alone with compliance, but vivacity. Boswell, -Dr. Johnson said, had engaged Frank Barber, his negro servant, to -collect and preserve all the proof sheets; but though it had not been -without the knowledge, it was without the order or the interference -of their author: to the present solicitor, therefore, willingly -and without scruple, he now offered an entire life; adding, with a -benignant smile, “Choose your poet!”</p> - -<p>Without scruple, also, was the acceptance; and, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 179]</span> - -without hesitation, -the choice was Pope. And that not merely because, next to Shakespeare -himself, Pope draws human characters the most veridically, perhaps, -of any poetic delineator; but for yet another reason. Dr. Johnson -composed with so ready an accuracy, that he sent his copy to the -press unread; reserving all his corrections for the proof sheets:<a name="FNanchor_33" id="FNanchor_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> -and, consequently, as not even Dr. Johnson could read twice without -ameliorating some passages, his proof sheets were at times liberally -marked with changes; and, as the Museum copy of Pope’s Translation of -the Iliad, from which Dr. Johnson has given many examples, contains -abundant emendations by Pope, the Memorialist secured at once, on the -same page, the marginal alterations and second thoughts of that great -author, and of his great biographer.</p> - -<p>When the book was published, Dr. Johnson brought to Streatham a -complete set, handsomely bound, of the Works of the Poets, as well as -his own Prefaces, to present to Mr. and Mrs. Thrale. And then, telling -this Memorialist that to the King, and to the chiefs of Streatham alone -he could offer</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 180]</span></p> - -<p>so large a tribute, he most kindly placed before her a bound copy of -his own part of the work; in the title page of which he gratified her -earnest request by writing her name, and “From the Author.”</p> - -<p>After which, at her particular solicitation, he gave her a small -engraving of his portrait from the picture of Sir Joshua Reynolds. And -while, some time afterwards, she was examining it at a distant table, -Dr. Johnson, in passing across the room, stopt to discover by what she -was occupied; which he no sooner discerned, than he began see-sawing -for a moment or two in silence; and then, with a ludicrous half laugh, -peeping over her shoulder, he called out: “Ah ha!—Sam Johnson!—I see -thee!—and an ugly dog thou art!”</p> - -<p>He even extended his kindness to a remembrance of Mr. Bewley, the -receiver and preserver of the wisp of a Bolt Court hearth-broom, as -a relic of the Author of the Rambler; which anecdote Dr. Burney had -ventured to confess: and Dr. Johnson now, with his compliments, sent a -set of the Prefaces to St. Martin’s-street, directed,</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center smaller">“<i>For the Broom Gentleman</i>:”</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>which Mr. Bewley received with rapturous gratitude.</p> - -<p>Dr. Johnson wrote nothing that was so immediately - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 181]</span> - -popular as his -Lives of the Poets. Such a subject was of universal attraction, and he -treated it with a simplicity that made it of universal comprehension. -In all that belonged to classical criticism, he had a facility so -complete, that to speak or to write produced immediately the same clear -and sagacious effect. His pen was as luminous as his tongue, and his -tongue was as correct as his pen.</p> - -<p>Yet those—and there are many—who estimate these Prefaces as the -best of his works, must surely so judge them from a species of -mental indolence, that prefers what is easiest of perusal to what -is most illuminating: for rich as are these Prefaces in ideas and -information, their subjects have so long been familiar to every English -reader, that they require no stretch of intellect, or exercise of -reflection, to lead him, without effort, to accompany the writer in -his annotations and criticisms. The Rambler, on the contrary, embodies -a course equally new of Thought and of Expression; the development -of which cannot always be foreseen, even by the deepest reasoner and -the keenest talents, because emanating from original genius. To make -acquaintance, therefore, with the Rambler, the general peruser - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 182]</span> - -must -pause, occasionally, to think as well as to read; and to clear away -sundry mists of prejudice, or ignorance, ere he can keep pace with the -sublime author, when the workings of his mind, his imagination, and his -knowledge, are thrown upon mankind.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MR. CRISP.</h2> - -<p>The warm and venerating attachment of Dr. Burney to Mr. Crisp, which -occasional discourse and allusions had frequently brought forward, -impressed the whole Thrale family with a high opinion of the character -and endowments of that excelling man. And when they found, also, that -Mr. Crisp had as animated a votary in so much younger a person as their -new guest; and that this enthusiasm was general throughout the Doctor’s -house, they earnestly desired to view and to know a man of such eminent -attraction; and gave to Dr. Burney a commission to bring on the -acquaintance.</p> - -<p>It was given, however, in vain. Mr. Crisp had no longer either health -or spirit of enterprize for so formidable, however flattering, a new -connexion; and inexorably resisted every overture for a meeting.</p> - -<p>But Mrs. Thrale, all alive for whatever was piquant - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 183]</span> - -and promising, grew so bewitched by the delight with which her new -young ally, to whom she became daily more attached and more attaching, -dilated on the rare perfections of <em>Daddy Crisp</em>; and the native and -innocent pleasures of Liberty Hall, Chesington, that she started the -plan of a little excursion for taking the premises by surprise. And Dr. -Burney, certain that two such singularly accomplished persons could -not meet but to their mutual gratification; sanctioned the scheme; -Mr. Thrale desired to form his own judgment of so uncommon a Recluse; -and the Doctor’s pupil felt a juvenile curiosity to make one in the -group.</p> - -<p>The party took place; but its pleasure was nearly marred by the failure -of the chief spring which would have put into motion, and set to -harmony, the various persons who composed its drama.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney, from multiplicity of avocations, was forced, when the day -arrived, to relinquish his share in the little invasion; which cast -a damp upon the gaiety of the project, both to the besieged and the -besiegers. Yet Mr. Crisp and Mrs. Thrale met with mutual sentiments of -high esteem, though the genius of their talents was dissimilar; Mrs. -Thrale delighted in bursting forth with sudden flashes of wit, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 184]</span> - -which, -carelessly, she left to their own consequences; while Mr. Crisp, though -awake to her talents, and sensible of their rarity and their splendour, -thought with Dr. Fordyce, that in woman the retiring graces are the -most attractive.<a name="FNanchor_34" id="FNanchor_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a></p> - -<p>Nevertheless, in understanding, acuteness, and parts, there was so -much in common between them, that sincere admiration grew out of the -interview; though with too little native congeniality to mellow into -confidence, or ripen into intimacy.</p> - -<p>Praise, too, that dangerous herald of expectation, is often a friend -more perilous than any enemy; and both had involuntarily looked for a -something indefinable which neither of them found; yet both had too -much justness of comprehension to conclude that such a something did -not exist, because no opportunity for its development had offered in -the course of a few hours.</p> - -<p>What most, in this visit, surprised Mrs. Thrale with pleasure, was the -elegance of Mr. Crisp in language and manners; because that, from the -Hermit of Chesington, she had not expected.</p> - -<p>And what most to Mr. Crisp caused a similar - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 185]</span> - -pleasure, was the courteous readiness, and unassuming good-humour, with -which Mrs. Thrale received the inartificial civilities of Kitty Cooke, -and the old-fashioned but cordial hospitality of Mrs. Hamilton; for -these, from a celebrated wit, moving in the sphere of high life, he -also in his turn had not expected.</p> - -<p>The Thrales, however, were all much entertained by the place itself, -which they prowled over with gay curiosity. Not a nook or corner; nor -a dark passage “leading to nothing;” nor a hanging tapestry of prim -demoiselles, and grim cavaliers; nor a tall canopied bed tied up to -the ceiling; nor japan cabinets of two or three hundred drawers of -different dimensions; nor an oaken corner cupboard, carved with heads, -thrown in every direction, save such as might let them fall on men’s -shoulders; nor a window stuck in some angle close to the ceiling of a -lofty slip of a room; nor a quarter of a staircase, leading to some -quaint unfrequented apartment; nor a wooden chimney-piece, cut in -diamonds, squares, and round nobs, surmounting another of blue and -white tiles, representing, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">vis à vis</i>, a dog and a cat, as symbols of -married life and harmony—missed their scrutinizing eyes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 186]</span></p> - -<p>They even visited the attics, where they were much diverted by the -shapes as well as by the quantity of rooms, which, being of all sorts -of forms that could increase their count, were far too heterogeneous of -outline to enable the minutest mathematician to give them any technical -denomination.</p> - -<p>They peeped, also, through little window casements, of which the panes -of glass were hardly so wide as their clumsy frames, to survey long -ridges of lead that entwined the motley spiral roofs of the multitude -of separate cells, rather than chambers, that composed the top of the -mansion; and afforded from it a view, sixteen miles in circumference, -of the adjacent country.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Mr. Crisp judged it fitting to return the received civility of a -visit from Mr. and Mrs. Thrale, whatever might be the inconvenience -to his health; or whatever his disinclination to such an exertion. -From habitual politeness he was of the old school in the forms of good -breeding; though perfectly equal to even the present march of intellect -in the new one, if to the present day he had lived,—and had deemed -it a march of improvement. He was the last man not to be aware that -nothing stands still. All nature - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 187]</span> - -in its living mass, all art in its -concentrated aggregate, advances or retrogrades.</p> - -<p>He took the earliest day that one of his few gout intervals put at his -own disposal, to make his appearance at Streatham; having first written -a most earnest injunction to Dr. Burney to give him there the meeting. -The Memorialist was then at Chesington, and had the happiness to -accompany Mr. Crisp; by whom she was to be left at her new third home.</p> - -<p>Dr. Johnson, in compliment to his friend Dr. Burney, and by no means -incurious himself to see the hermit of Chesington, immediately -descended to meet Mr. Crisp; and to aid Mrs. Thrale, who gave him a -vivacious reception, to do the honours of Streatham.</p> - -<p>The meeting, nevertheless, to the great chagrin of Dr. Burney, produced -neither interest nor pleasure: for Dr. Johnson, though courteous in -demeanour and looks, with evident solicitude to shew respect to Mr. -Crisp, was grave and silent; and whenever Dr. Johnson did not make the -charm of conversation, he only marred it by his presence; from the -general fear he incited, that if he spoke not, he might listen; and -that if he listened—he might reprove.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 188]</span></p> - -<p>Ease, therefore, was wanting; without which nothing in society can be -flowing or pleasing. The Chesingtonian conceived, that he had lived too -long away from the world to start any subject that might not, to the -Streathamites, be trite and out of date; and the Streathamites believed -that they had lived in it so much longer, that the current talk of the -day might, to the Chesingtonian, seem unintelligible jargon: while each -hoped that the sprightly Dr. Burney would find the golden mean by which -both parties might be brought into play.</p> - -<p>But Dr. Burney, who saw in the kind looks and complacency of Dr. -Johnson intentional goodwill to the meeting, flattered himself that -the great philologist was but waiting for an accidental excitement, -to fasten upon some topic of general use or importance, and then to -describe or discuss it, with the full powers of his great mind.</p> - -<p>Dr. Johnson, however, either in health or in spirits was, -unfortunately, oppressed; and, for once, was more desirous to hear than -to be heard.</p> - -<p>Mr. Crisp, therefore, lost, by so unexpected a taciturnity, this fair -and promising opportunity for developing and enjoying the celebrated -and extraordinary colloquial abilities of Dr. Johnson; and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 189]</span> - -finished -the visit with much disappointment; lowered also, and always, in his -spirits by parting from his tenderly attached young companion.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney had afterwards, however, the consolation to find that Mr. -Crisp had impressed even Dr. Johnson with a strong admiration of his -knowledge and capacity; for in speaking of him in the evening to Mr. -Thrale, who had been absent, the Doctor emphatically said, “Sir, it is -a very singular thing to see a man with all his powers so much alive, -when he has so long shut himself up from the world. Such readiness of -conception, quickness of recollection, facility of following discourse -started by others, in a man who has long had only the past to feed -upon, are rarely to be met with. Now, for my part,” added he, laughing, -“that <em>I</em> should be ready, or even universal, is no wonder; for my dear -little mistress here,” turning to Mrs. Thrale, “keeps all my faculties -in constant play.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Thrale then said that nothing, to her, was so striking, as that a -man who so long had retired from the world, should so delicately have -preserved its forms and courtesies, as to appear equally well bred with -any elegant member of society who had not quitted it for a week.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 190]</span></p> - -<p>Inexpressibly gratifying to Dr. Burney was the award of such justice, -from such judges, to his best and dearest loved friend.</p> - -<p>From this time forward, Dr. Burney could scarcely recover his daughter -from Streatham, even for a few days, without a friendly battle. A -sportively comic exaggeration of Dr. Johnson’s upon this flattering -hostility was current at Streatham, made in answer to Dr. Burney’s -saying, upon a resistance to her departure for St. Martin’s-street in -which Dr. Johnson had strongly joined, “I must really take her away, -Sir, I must indeed; she has been from home so long.”</p> - -<p>“Long? no, Sir! I do not think it long,” cried the Doctor, see-sawing, -and seizing both her hands, as if purporting to detain her: “Sir! I -would have her Always come ... and Never go!—”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MR. BOSWELL.</h2> - -<p>When next, after this adjuration, Dr. Burney took the Memorialist back -to Streatham, he found there, recently arrived from Scotland, Mr. -Boswell; whose sprightly Corsican tour, and heroic, almost - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 191]</span> - -Quixotic -pursuit of General Paoli, joined to the tour to the Hebrides with Dr. -Johnson, made him an object himself of considerable attention.</p> - -<p>He spoke the Scotch accent strongly, though by no means so as to -affect, even slightly, his intelligibility to an English ear. He -had an odd mock solemnity of tone and manner, that he had acquired -imperceptibly from constantly thinking of and imitating Dr. Johnson; -whose own solemnity, nevertheless, far from mock, was the result of -pensive rumination. There was, also, something slouching in the gait -and dress of Mr. Boswell, that wore an air, ridiculously enough, -of purporting to personify the same model. His clothes were always -too large for him; his hair, or wig, was constantly in a state of -negligence; and he never for a moment sat still or upright upon -a chair. Every look and movement displayed either intentional or -involuntary imitation. Yet certainly it was not meant as caricature; -for his heart, almost even to idolatory, was in his reverence of Dr. -Johnson.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney was often surprised that this kind of farcical similitude -escaped the notice of the Doctor; but attributed his missing it -to a high superiority over any such suspicion, as much as to his -near-sightedness; - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 192]</span> - -for fully was Dr. Burney persuaded, that had any -detection of such imitation taken place, Dr. Johnson, who generally -treated Mr. Boswell as a school boy, whom, without the smallest -ceremony, he pardoned or rebuked, alternately, would so indignantly -have been provoked, as to have instantaneously inflicted upon him some -mark of his displeasure. And equally he was persuaded that Mr. Boswell, -however shocked and even inflamed in receiving it, would soon, from his -deep veneration, have thought it justly incurred; and, after a day or -two of pouting and sullenness, would have compromised the matter by one -of his customary simple apologies, of “Pray, Sir, forgive me!”</p> - -<p>Dr. Johnson, though often irritated by the officious importunity of -Mr. Boswell, was really touched by his attachment. It was indeed -surprising, and even affecting, to remark the pleasure with which -this great man accepted personal kindness, even from the simplest of -mankind; and the grave formality with which he acknowledged it even -to the meanest. Possibly it was what he most prized, because what he -could least command; for personal partiality hangs upon lighter and -slighter qualities than those which earn solid approbation; but of -this, if he had - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 193]</span> - -least command, he had also least want: his towering -superiority of intellect elevating him above all competitors, and -regularly establishing him, wherever he appeared, as the first Being of -the society.</p> - -<p>As Mr. Boswell was at Streatham only upon a morning visit, a collation -was ordered, to which all were assembled. Mr. Boswell was preparing to -take a seat that he seemed, by prescription, to consider as his own, -next to Dr. Johnson; but Mr. Seward, who was present, waived his hand -for Mr. Boswell to move further on, saying, with a smile, “Mr. Boswell, -that seat is Miss Burney’s.”</p> - -<p>He stared, amazed: the asserted claimant was new and unknown to him, -and he appeared by no means pleased to resign his prior rights. -But, after looking round for a minute or two, with an important -air of demanding the meaning of this innovation, and receiving no -satisfaction, he reluctantly, almost resentfully, got another chair; -and placed it at the back of the shoulder of Dr. Johnson; while this -new and unheard of rival quietly seated herself as if not hearing what -was passing; for she shrunk from the explanation that she feared might -ensue, as she saw a smile stealing over every countenance, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 194]</span> - -that of Dr. -Johnson himself not excepted, at the discomfiture and surprise of Mr. -Boswell.</p> - -<p>Mr. Boswell, however, was so situated as not to remark it in the -Doctor; and of every one else, when in that presence, he was -unobservant, if not contemptuous. In truth, when he met with Dr. -Johnson, he commonly forbore even answering anything that was said, -or attending to any thing that went forward, lest he should miss the -smallest sound from that voice to which he paid such exclusive, though -merited homage. But the moment that voice burst forth, the attention -which it excited in Mr. Boswell amounted almost to pain. His eyes -goggled with eagerness; he leant his ear almost on the shoulder of the -Doctor; and his mouth dropt open to catch every syllable that might -be uttered: nay, he seemed not only to dread losing a word, but to be -anxious not to miss a breathing; as if hoping from it, latently, or -mystically, some information.</p> - -<p>But when, in a few minutes, Dr. Johnson, whose eye did not follow him, -and who had concluded him to be at the other end of the table, said -something gaily and good-humouredly, by the appellation of Bozzy; -and discovered, by the sound of the reply, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 195]</span> - -that Bozzy had planted -himself, as closely as he could, behind and between the elbows of the -new usurper and his own, the Doctor turned angrily round upon him, -and, clapping his hand rather loudly upon his knee, said, in a tone of -displeasure, “What do you do there, Sir?—Go to the table, Sir!”</p> - -<p>Mr. Boswell instantly, and with an air of affright, obeyed: and there -was something so unusual in such humble submission to so imperious a -command, that another smile gleamed its way across every mouth, except -that of the Doctor and of Mr. Boswell; who now, very unwillingly, took -a distant seat.</p> - -<p>But, ever restless when not at the side of Dr. Johnson, he presently -recollected something that he wished to exhibit, and, hastily rising, -was running away in its search; when the Doctor, calling after him, -authoritatively said: “What are you thinking of, Sir? Why do you get up -before the cloth is removed?—Come back to your place, Sir!”</p> - -<p>Again, and with equal obsequiousness, Mr. Boswell did as he was bid; -when the Doctor, pursing his lips, not to betray rising risibility, -muttered half - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 196]</span> - -to himself: “Running about in the middle of meals!—One -would take you for a Brangton!—”</p> - -<p>“A Brangton, Sir?” repeated Mr. Boswell, with earnestness; “What is a -Brangton, Sir?”</p> - -<p>“Where have you lived, Sir,” cried the Doctor, laughing, “and what -company have you kept, not to know that?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Boswell now, doubly curious, yet always apprehensive of falling -into some disgrace with Dr. Johnson, said, in a low tone, which he -knew the Doctor could not hear, to Mrs. Thrale: “Pray, Ma’am, what’s a -Brangton?—Do me the favour to tell me?—Is it some animal hereabouts?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Thrale only heartily laughed, but without answering: as she saw -one of her guests uneasily fearful of an explanation. But Mr. Seward -cried, “I’ll tell you, Boswell,—I’ll tell you!—if you will walk with -me into the paddock: only let us wait till the table is cleared; or I -shall be taken for a Brangton, too!”</p> - -<p>They soon went off together; and Mr. Boswell, no doubt, was fully -informed of the road that had led to the usurpation by which he had -thus been annoyed. But the Brangton fabricator took care to mount to - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 197]</span> - -her chamber ere they returned; and did not come down till Mr. Boswell -was gone.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">ANNA WILLIAMS.</h2> - -<p>Dr. Burney had no greater enjoyment of the little leisure he could tear -from his work and his profession, than that which he could dedicate -to Dr. Johnson; and he now, at the Doctor’s most earnest invitation, -carried this Memorialist to Bolt Court, to pay a visit to the blind -poetess, Anna Williams.</p> - -<p>They were received by Dr. Johnson with a kindness that irradiated -his austere and studious features into the most pleased and pleasing -benignity. Such, indeed, was the gentleness, as well as warmth, of his -partiality for this father and daughter, that their sight seemed to -give him a new physiognomy.<a name="FNanchor_35" id="FNanchor_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a></p> - -<p>It was in the apartment—a parlour—dedicated to Mrs. Williams, that -the Doctor was in this ready attendance to play the part of the master -of the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 198]</span> - -ceremonies, in presenting his new guest to his ancient friend and ally. -Anna Williams had been a favourite of his wife, in whose life-time -she had frequently resided under his roof. The merit of her poetical -talents, and the misfortune of her blindness, are generally known; -to these were now super-added sickness, age, and infirmity: yet such -was the spirit of her character, that to make a new acquaintance thus -rather singularly circumstanced, seemed to her almost an event of -moment; and she had incessantly solicited the Doctor to bring it to -bear.</p> - -<p>Her look, air, voice, and extended hands of reception, evinced the most -eager, though by no means obtrusive curiosity. Her manner, indeed, -shewed her to be innately a gentlewoman; and her conversation always -disclosed a cultivated as well as thinking mind.</p> - -<p>Dr. Johnson never appeared to more advantage than in the presence of -this blind poetess; for the obligations under which he had placed -her, were such as he sincerely wished her to feel with the pleasure -of light, not the oppression of weighty gratitude. All his best -sentiments, therefore, were strenuously her advocates, to curb what was -irritable in his temper by the generosity of his principles; and by - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 199]</span> - -the congeniality, in such points, of their sensibility.</p> - -<p>His attentions to soften the burthen of her existence, from the -various bodily diseases that aggravated the evil of her loss of sight, -were anxious and unceasing; and there was no way more prominent to -his favour than that of seeking to give any solace, or shewing any -consideration to Anna Williams.</p> - -<p>Anna, in return, honouring his virtues and abilities, grateful for -his goodness, and intimately aware of his peculiarities, made it the -pride of her life to receive every moment he could bestow upon her, -with cordial affection; and exactly at his own time and convenience; -to soothe him when he was disposed to lament with her the loss of his -wife; and to procure for him whatever was in her power of entertainment -or comfort.</p> - -<p>This introduction was afterwards followed, through Dr. Johnson’s -zealous intervention, by sundry other visits from the Memorialist; and -though minor circumstances made her compliance rather embarrassing, it -could not have been right, and it would hardly have been possible, to -resist an entreaty of Dr. Johnson. And every fresh interview at his own -home showed the steady humanity of his assiduity to enliven his poor - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 200]</span> - -blind companion; as well as to confer the most essential services upon -two other distressed inmates of his charitable house, Mrs. Desmoulins, -the indigent daughter of Dr. Swinfen, a physician who had been -godfather to Dr. Johnson; and Mr. Levet, a poor old ruined apothecary, -both of whom he housed and supported with the most exemplary Christian -goodness.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">HISTORY OF MUSIC.</h2> - -<p>Dr. Burney was daily more enchanted at the kindness with which his -daughter was honoured by Dr. Johnson; but neither parental exaltation, -nor the smiles of fortune; nor the enticing fragrance of those flowery -paths which so often allure from vigorous labour to wasting repose, the -votary of rising fame; could even for a day, or scarcely for an hour, -draw the ardent and indefatigable musical historian to any voluntary -relaxation from his self-appointed task; to which he constantly devoted -every moment that he could snatch from the multitudinous calls upon his -over-charged time.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 201]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MR. GARRICK.</h2> - -<p>But the year that followed this still rising tide of pleasure and -prosperity to Dr. Burney, 1779, opened to him with the personal loss -of a friend whom the world might vainly, perhaps, be challenged to -replace, for agreeability, delight, and conviviality, Garrick!—the -inimitable David Garrick! who left behind him all previous eminence in -his profession beyond reach of comparison; save the Roscius of Rome, -to whose Ciceronian celebrity we owe the adoption of an appropriate -nomenclature, which at no period could have been found in our own -dominions:—Garrick, so long the darling and unrivalled favourite of -the public; who possessed resistlessly, where he chose to exert it, the -power of pleasing, winning, and exhilarating all around him:—Garrick, -who, in the words of Dr. Johnson, seemed “Formed to gladden life,” was -taken from his resplendent worldly fame, and admiring worldly friends, -by “that stroke of death,” says Dr. Johnson, “which eclipsed the gaiety -of nations, and impoverished the stock of harmless pleasure.”</p> - -<p>He had already retired from the stage, and retired without waiting for -failing powers to urge, or precipitate his retreat; for still his - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 202]</span> - -unequalled animal spirits, gaily baffling the assaults of age, had such -extraordinary exuberance as to supply and support both body and mind at -once; still clear, varying, and penetrating, was his voice; still full -of intelligence or satire, of disdain, of rage, or of delight, was the -fire, the radiance, the eloquence of his eye; still made up at will, of -energy or grace, of command or supplication, was his form, and were his -attitudes; his face alone—ah!“There was the rub!—” his face alone was -the martyr of time: or rather, his forehead and cheeks; for his eyes -and his countenance were still beaming with recent, though retiring -beauty.</p> - -<p>But the wear and tear of his forehead and cheeks, which, as Dr. Johnson -had said, made sixty years in Garrick seem seventy, had rendered them -so wrinkled, from an unremitting play of expression, off as well as -on the stage, that, when he found neither paint nor candle-light, -nor dress nor decoration, could conceal those lines, or smooth those -furrows which were ploughing his complexion; he preferred to triumph, -even in foregoing his triumphs, by plunging, through voluntary impulse, -from the dazzling summit to which he had mounted, and heroically - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 203]</span> - -pronouncing his Farewell!—amidst the universal cry, echoed and -re-echoing all around him, of “Stop, Garrick, stop!—yet a little -longer stop!”</p> - -<p>A brief account of the last sight of this admired and much loved friend -is thus given in a manuscript memoir of Dr. Burney.</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>“I called at his door, with anxious inquiries, two days before he -expired, and was admitted to his chamber; but though I saw him, he -did not seem to see me,—or any earthly thing! His countenance that -had never remained a moment the same in conversation, now appeared as -fixed and as inanimate as a block of marble; and he had already so far -relinquished the world, as I was afterwards told by Mr. Wallace, his -executor, that nothing that was said or done that used to interest -him the most keenly, had any effect upon his muscles; or could extort -either a word or a look from him for several days previously to his -becoming a corpse.”</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>Dr. Burney, in the same carriage with Whitehead, the poet laureate, -the erudite Mr. Beauclerk, and Mr. Wallace, the executor, attended the -last remains of this celebrated public character to their honourable -interment in Westminster Abbey.</p> - -<p>Long, and almost universally felt was this loss: to Dr. Burney it was -a deprivation of lasting regret. In his doggrel chronology he has left -the following warm testimony of his admiration.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 204]</span></p> - - -<p class="center">1779.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="smaller"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“This year joy and sorrow alike put on sable</div> - <div class="verse">For losses sustained by the stage and the table,</div> - <div class="verse">For Garrick, the master of passion, retired,</div> - <div class="verse">And Nature and Shakespeare together expired.</div> - <div class="verse">Thalia’s as well as Melpomene’s magic,</div> - <div class="verse">With him at once vanished both comic and tragic.</div> - <div class="verse">Long, long will it be, now by Death he is slain,</div> - <div class="verse">Before we shall see his true likeness again.</div> - <div class="verse">Such dignified beauties he threw in each part,</div> - <div class="verse">Such resources of humour, of passion, and art;—</div> - <div class="verse">Hilarity missed him, each Muse dropped a tear,</div> - <div class="verse">And Genius and Feeling attended his bier.”</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">YOUNG CROTCH.</h2> - -<p>Just as this great dramatic genius was descending to the tomb, young -Crotch, a rising musical genius, was brought forward into the world -with so strong a promise of eminence, that a very general desire was -expressed, that Dr. Burney would examine, counsel, and countenance him; -and at only three years and a half old, the child was brought to St. -Martin’s-street by his mother.</p> - -<p>The Doctor, ever ready to nourish incipient talents submitted to his -investigation, saw the child - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 205]</span> - -repeatedly; and was so forcibly struck -by his uncommon faculties, that upon communicating his remarks to the -famous Dr. Hunter, who had been foremost in desiring the examination, -Dr. Hunter thought them sufficiently curious to be presented to the -Royal Society; where they were extremely well received, and printed in -the Philosophical Transactions of the year 1779.</p> - -<p>For some time after this, the Doctor was frequently called upon, by -the relations and admirers of this wonderful boy, for assistance and -advice; both which he cheerfully accorded to the best of his ability: -till the happy star of the young prodigy fixed him at the University of -Oxford, where he met with every aid, professional or personal, that his -genius claimed; and where, while his education was still in progress, -he was nominated, when only fourteen years of age, organist of Christ -Church.</p> - -<p>This event he communicated to Dr. Burney in a modest and grateful -letter, that the Doctor received and preserved with sincere -satisfaction; and kindly answered with instructive professional counsel.</p> - -<p>In his chronological lines, the Doctor says—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 206]</span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="smaller"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“Little Crotch, a phenomenon, now first appeared,</div> - <div class="verse">And each minstrel surprised, howe’er gray was his beard:</div> - <div class="verse">To my learned associates who write F. R. S.</div> - <div class="verse">Both the why and the wherefore I humbly address;</div> - <div class="verse">And endeavour to shew them, without diminution,</div> - <div class="verse">What truly is strange in this bard Lilliputian:</div> - <div class="verse">What common, what wanting, to make him surpass</div> - <div class="verse">The composers and players of every class.</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MR. THRALE.</h2> - -<p>The event next narrated in the Memoirs of Dr. Burney, proved deeply -affecting to the happiness and gaiety of his social circles; for now -a catastrophe, which for some time had seemed impending, and which, -though variously fluctuating, had often struck with terror, or damped -with sorrow, the liveliest spirits and gayest scenes of Streatham, -suddenly took place; and cut short for ever the honours and the peace -of that erst illustrious dwelling.</p> - -<p>Mr. Thrale, for many years, in utter ignorance what its symptoms were -foreboding, had been harbouring, through an undermining indulgence -of immoderate sleep after meals, a propensity to paralysis. The -prognostics of distemper were then little observed but by men of -science; and those were rarely called in till something fatal was -apprehended. It is, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 207]</span> - -probably, only since the time that medical and -surgical lectures have been published as well as delivered; and -simplified from technical difficulties, so as to meet and to enlighten -the unscientific intellect of the herd of mankind, that the world at -large seems to have learned the value of early attention to incipient -malady.</p> - -<p>Even Dr. Johnson was so little aware of the insalubrity of Mr. Thrale’s -course of life, that, without interposing his powerful and never -disregarded exhortations, he often laughingly said, “Mr. Thrale will -out-sleep the seven sleepers!”</p> - -<p>Strange it may seem, at this present so far more enlightened day upon -these subjects, that Dr. Johnson, at least, should not have been -alarmed at this lethargic tendency; as the art of medicine, which, for -all that belongs to this world, stands the highest in utility, was, -abstractedly, a study upon which he loved to ruminate, and a subject -he was addicted to discuss. But this instance of complete vacuity of -practical information upon diseases and remedies in Dr. Johnson, will -cease to give surprise, when it is known that, near the middle of his -life, and in the fullest force of his noble faculties, upon finding -himself assailed by a severe fit of the gout - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 208]</span> - -in his ancle, he sent -for a pail of cold water, into which he plunged his leg during the -worst of the paroxysm—a feat of intrepid ignorance—incongruous as -sounds the word ignorance in speaking of Dr. Johnson—that probably he -had cause to rue during his whole after-life; for the gout, of which -he chose to get rid in so succinct a manner—a feat in which he often -exulted—might have carried off many of the direful obstructions, and -asthmatic seizures and sufferings, of which his latter years were -wretchedly the martyrs.</p> - -<p>Thus, most unfortunately, without representation, opposition, or -consciousness, Mr. Thrale went on in a self-destroying mode of conduct, -till,</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center smaller">“Uncall’d—unheeded—unawares—”</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>he was struck with a fit of apoplexy.</p> - -<p>Yet even this stroke, by the knowledge and experience of his medical -advisers,<a name="FNanchor_36" id="FNanchor_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> might perhaps have been parried, had Mr. Thrale been -imbued with earlier reverence for the arts of recovery. But he slighted -them all; and fearless, or, rather, incredulous of danger, he attended - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 209]</span> - -to no prescription. He simply essayed the waters of Tunbridge; and made -a long sojourn at Bath. All in vain! The last and fatal seizure was -inflicted at his own town house, in Grosvenor Square, in the spring of -1781: and at an instant when such a blow was so little expected, that -all London, amongst persons of fashion, talents, or celebrity, had been -invited to a splendid entertainment, meant for the night of that very -dawn which rose upon the sudden earthly extinction of the lamented and -respected chief of the mansion.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">STREATHAM.</h2> - -<p>Changed now was Streatham! the value of its chief seemed first made -known by his loss; which was long felt; though not, perhaps, with the -immediate acuteness that would have been demonstrated, if, at that -period, the deprivation of the female chieftain had preceded that of -the male. Still Mr. Thrale, by every friend of his house and family; -and by every true adherent to his wife, her interest, her fame, and her -happiness, was day by day, and week by week, more and more missed and -regretted.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney was one of the first and most earnest - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 210]</span> - -to hasten to the -widowed lady, with the truest sympathy in her grief. His daughter, who, -for some previous months, had been wholly restored to the paternal -roof,—the Thrales themselves having been fixed, for the last winter -season, in Grosvenor Square,—flew, in trembling haste, the instant she -could be received, to the beloved friend who was now tenderly enchained -to her heart; and at this moment was doubly endeared by misfortune; and -voluntarily quitting all else, eagerly established herself at Streatham.</p> - -<p>Dr. Johnson, who was one of Mr. Thrale’s executors, immediately resumed -his apartment; cordially and gratefully bestowing on the remaining -hostess every minute that she could desire or require of his time and -his services. And nothing could be wiser in counsel, more zealous in -good offices, or kinder of intention, than the whole of his conduct in -performing the duties that he deemed to devolve upon him by the will of -his late friend.</p> - -<p>But Dr. Burney, as he could only upon his stated day and hour make one -in this retirement, devoted himself now almost exclusively to his - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 211]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">HISTORY OF MUSIC.</h2> - -<p>So many years had elapsed since the appearance of the first volume, -and the murmurs of the subscribers were so general for the publication -of the second, that the earnestness of the Doctor to fulfil his -engagement, became such as to sicken him of almost every occupation -that turned him from its pursuit. Yet uninterrupted attention grew more -than ever difficult; for as his leisure, through the double claims of -his profession and his work, diminished, his celebrity increased; and -the calls upon it, as usual, from the wayward taste of public fashion -for what is hard to obtain, were perpetual, were even clamorous; and he -had constantly a long list of petitioning parents, awaiting a vacant -hour, upon any terms that he could name, and at any part of the day.</p> - -<p>He had always some early pupil who accepted his attendance at eight -o’clock in the morning; and a strong instance has been given of its -being seized upon even at seven;<a name="FNanchor_37" id="FNanchor_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> -and, during the height of the season for fashionable London residence, -his tour - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 212]</span> - -from house to house was scarcely ever finished sooner than eleven -o’clock at night.</p> - -<p>But so urgent grew now the spirit of his diligence for the progress of -his work, that he not only declined all invitations to the hospitable -boards of his friends, he even resisted the social hour of repast at -his own table; and took his solitary meal in his coach, while passing -from scholar to scholar; for which purpose he had sandwiches prepared -in a flat tin box; and wine and water ready mixed, in a wickered pint -bottle, put constantly into the pockets of his carriage.</p> - -<p>If, at this period, Dr. Burney had been as intent and as skilful in the -arrangement and the augmentation of his income, as he was industrious -to procure, and assiduous to merit, its increase, he might have retired -from business, its toils and its cares, while yet in the meridian of -life; with a comfortable competence for its decline, and adequate -portions for his daughters. With regard to his sons, it was always his -intention to bestow upon them good educations, and to bring them up to -honourable professions; and then to leave them to form, as he had done -himself, a dynasty of their own. But, unfortunately for all parties, -he had as little turn as time for that - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 213]</span> - -species of speculation which leads to financial prosperity; and he -lived chiefly upon the principal of the sums which he amassed; and -which he merely, as soon as they were received, locked up in his bureau -for facility of usage; or stored largely at his bankers as an asylum of -safety: while the cash which he laid out in any sort of interest, was -so little, as to make his current revenue almost incredibly below what -might have been expected from the remuneration of his labours; or what -seemed due to his situation in the world.</p> - -<p>But, with all his honourable toil, his philosophic privations, and his -heroic self-denials,</p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<p class="nobreak"><span class="smcap">THE SECOND VOLUME of the HISTORY OF MUSIC,</span></p> - -<p>from a continually enlarging view of its capability of improvement, did -not see the light till the year 1782.</p> - -<p>Then, however, it was received with the same favour and the same -honours that had graced the entrance into public notice of its -predecessor. The literary world seemed filled with its praise; -the booksellers demanded ample impressions; and her Majesty Queen -Charlotte, with even augmented graciousness, accepted its homage at -court.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 214]</span></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Relieved, by this publication, from a weight upon his spirits and his -delicacy, which, for more than six years had burthened and disturbed -them, he prudently resolved against working any longer under the -self-reproachful annoyance of a promised punctuality which his position -in life disabled him from observing, by fettering himself with any -further tie of time to his subscribers for the remaining volumes.</p> - -<p>He renounced, therefore, the excess of studious labour with which, -hitherto,</p> -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="smaller"> - <div class="verse indent14">his toil</div> - <div class="verse">O’er books consum’d the midnight oil;</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - - -<p>and restored himself, in a certain degree, to his family, his friends, -and a general and genial enjoyment of his existence. And hailed was the -design, by all who knew him, with an energetic welcome.</p> - -<p>And yet, in breathing thus a little from so unremitting an ardour; -and allowing himself to bask awhile in that healing sunshine of -applause which administers more relief to the brain-shattered, -and mind-exhausted patient, than all the <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">materia medica</i> of the -Apothecaries’ Hall; so small still, and so fugitive, were his intervals -of relaxation, that the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 215]</span> - -diminished exertion which to him was gentle -rest, would, to almost any other, have still seemed overstrained -occupation, and a life of drudgery.</p> - -<p>With no small pleasure, now, he resumed his wonted place at the opera, -at concerts, and in circles of musical excellence; which then were at -their height of superiority, because presided over by the royal and -accomplished legislator of taste, fashion, and elegance, the Prince -of Wales;<a name="FNanchor_38" id="FNanchor_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a> who frequently deigned to call upon Dr. Burney for his -opinion upon subjects of harmony: and even condescended to summon him -to his royal vicinity, both at the opera and at concerts, that they -might “compare notes,” in his own gracious expression, upon what was -performing.</p> - -<p>Not, however, to his daughter did the Doctor recommend any similar -remission of penmanship. The extraordinary favour with which her little -work had been received in the world; and which may chiefly, perhaps, -be attributed to the unpretending and unexpecting mode in which, not -skilfully, but involuntarily, it had glided into public life; being now -sanctioned by the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">eclât</i> of encouragement from Dr. Johnson - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 216]</span> - -and from Mr. Burke, gave a zest to his paternal pleasure and hopes, -that made it impossible, nay, that even led him to think it would be -unfatherly, to listen to her affrighted wishes of retreat, from her -fearful apprehensions of some reverse; or suffer her to shrink back -to her original obscurity, from the light into which she had been -surprised.</p> - -<p>And, indeed, though he made the kindest allowance for her tremors and -reluctance, he was urged so tumultuously by others, that it was hardly -possible for him to be passive: and Mr. Crisp, whose voice, in whatever -was submitted to his judgment, had the effect of a casting vote, called -out aloud: “More! More! More!—another production!”</p> - -<p>The wishes of two such personages were, of course, resistless; and -a new mental speculation, which already, though secretly, had taken -a rambling possession of her ideas, upon the evils annexed to that -species of family pride which, from generation to generation, seeks, by -mortal wills, to arrest the changeful range of succession enacted by -the immutable laws of death, became the basis of a composition which -she denominated Memoirs of an Heiress.<a name="FNanchor_39" id="FNanchor_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 217]</span></p> - -<p>No sooner was her consent obtained, than Dr. Burney, who had long with -regret, though with pride, perceived that, at Streatham, she had no -time that was her own, earnestly called her thence.</p> - -<p>He called, however, in vain, from the acuter, though fonder cry of Mrs. -Thrale for her detention; and, kind and flexible, he was yielding up -his demand, when Mr. Crisp, emphatically exclaiming:</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center smaller">“There is a tide in the affairs of men”— — —</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>“and—” comically adding—“and of girls, too!” charged him not to risk -that turn for his daughter, through a false delicacy from which, should -she become its victim, he would have the laugh against,—and nothing -for him.</p> - -<p>The Doctor then frankly revealed to Mrs. Thrale, the tide-fearing alarm -of Mr. Crisp.</p> - -<p>Startled, she heard him. Unwelcome was the sound to her affection, -to her affliction—and, it may be, to her already growing -perplexities!—but justice and kindness united to forbid any -conflict:—though struck was the Doctor, and still more struck was the -Memorialist, by the miserable “Adieu!” which she uttered at parting.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 218]</span></p> - -<p>Mr. Crisp himself hastened in person to Streatham, to convey his -young friend alike from that now monopolizing seclusion, and from -her endlessly increasing expansion of visits and acquaintance in -London;—all which he vehemently denounced as flattering idleness,—to -the quiet and exclusive possession of what he had denominated The -Doctor’s Conjuring Closet, at Chesington.</p> - -<p>And there, with that paternal and excellent friend, and his worthy -associates, Mrs. Hamilton and Miss Cooke, in lively sociality, gay -good-humour, and unbounded confidence, she consigned some months to -what he called her new conjuring. And there she proposed to remain -till her work should be finished: but, ere that time arrived, and ere -she could read any part of it with Mr. Crisp, a tender call from home -brought her to the parental roof, to be present at the marriage of a -darling sister:<a name="FNanchor_40" id="FNanchor_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> after which, the Doctor kept her stationary in St. -Martin’s-street, till she had written the word Finis, which ushered her -“Heiress” into the world.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 219]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MR. BURKE.</h2> - -<p>The time is now come for commemorating the connection which, next alone -to that of Dr. Johnson, stands highest in the literary honours of Dr. -Burney, namely, that which he formed with Edmund Burke.</p> - -<p>Their first meetings had been merely accidental and public, and wholly -unaccompanied by any private intimacy or intercourse; though, from -the time that the author of Evelina had been discovered, there had -passed between them, on such occasional junctions, what Dr. Burney -playfully called <em>an amiable coquetry</em> of smiles, and other symbols, -that showed each to be thinking of the same thing: for Mr. Burke, with -that generous energy which, when he escaped the feuds of party, was -the distinction of his character, and made the charm of his oratory, -had blazed around his approbation of that happy little work, from the -moment that it had fallen, incidentally, into his hands: and when -he heard that the author, from her acquaintance with the lovely and -accomplished nieces of Sir Joshua Reynolds, was a visitor at the house -of that English Raphael, he flatteringly desired of the Knight an -appointed interview.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 220]</span></p> - -<p>But from that, though enchanted as much as astonished at such -a proposal from Mr. Burke, she fearfully, and with conscious -insufficiency, hung back; hoping to owe to chance a less ostentatious -meeting.</p> - -<p>Various parties, during two or three years, had been planned, but -proved abortive; when in June, 1782, Sir Joshua Reynolds invited Dr. -Burney and the Memorialist to a dinner upon Richmond Hill, to meet the -Bishop of St. Asaph, Miss Shipley, and some others.</p> - -<p>This was gladly accepted by the Doctor; who now, upon his new system, -was writing more at his ease; and by his daughter, who was still -detained from Streatham, as her second work, though finished, was yet -in the press.</p> - -<p>Sir Joshua, and his eldest niece,<a name="FNanchor_41" id="FNanchor_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> -accompanied by Lord Cork, called -for them in St. Martin’s-street; and the drive was as lively, from -the discourse within the carriage, as it was pleasant from the views -without.</p> - -<p>Here the editor, as no traits of Mr. Burke in conversation can be -wholly uninteresting to an English reader, will venture to copy an - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 221]</span> - -account of this meeting, which was written while it was yet new, and -consequently warm in her memory, as an offering to her second father,</p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">SAMUEL CRISP, ESQ.</span></p> - -<p class="sig-right5"><i>Chesington.</i></p> - -<p class="pindent1">“My dear Mr. Crisp.</p> - -<p>“At the Knight of Plympton’s house, on Richmond Hill, next to the Star -and Garter, we were met by the Bishop of St. Asaph, who stands as high -in general esteem for agreeability as for worth and learning; and by -his accomplished and spirited daughter, Miss Shipley. My father was -already acquainted with both; and to both I was introduced by Miss -Palmer.</p> - -<p>“No other company was mentioned; but some smiling whispers passed -between Sir Joshua, Miss Palmer, and my father, that awakened in me a -notion that the party was not yet complete; and with that notion an -idea that Mr. Burke might be the awaited chief of the assemblage; for as -they knew I had long had as much eagerness to see Mr. Burke as I had - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 222]</span> - -fears of meeting his expectations, I thought they might forbear naming -him to save me a fit of fright.</p> - -<p>“Sir Joshua who, though full of kindness, dearly loves a little -innocent malice, drew me soon afterwards to a window, to look at the -beautiful prospect below; the soft meandering of the Thames, and the -brightly picturesque situation of the elegant white house which Horace -Walpole had made the habitation of Lady Diana Beauclerk and her fair -progeny; in order to gather, as he afterwards laughingly acknowledged, -my sentiments of the view, that he might compare them with those of Mr. -Burke on the same scene! However, I escaped, luckily, falling, through -ignorance, into such a competition, by the entrance of a large, though -unannounced party, in a mass. For as this was only a visit of a day, -there were very few servants; and those few, I suppose, were preparing -the dinner apartment; for this group appeared to have found its own way -up to the drawing-room, with an easiness as well suited to its humour, -by the gay air of its approach, as to that of Sir Joshua; who holds -ceremony almost in horror, and who received them without any form or -apology.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 223]</span></p> - -<p>“He quitted me, however, to go forward, and greet with distinction a -lady who was in the set. They were all familiarly recognized by the -Bishop and Miss Shipley, as well as by Miss Palmer; and some of them by -my father, whose own face wore an expression, of pleasure, that helped -to fix a conjecture in my mind that one amongst them, whom I peculiarly -signalised, tall, and of fine deportment, with an air at once of -Courtesy and Command, might be Edmund Burke.</p> - -<p>“Excited as I felt by this idea, I continued at my picturesque window, -as all the company were strangers to me, till Miss Palmer gave her -hand to the tall, suspected, but unknown personage, saying, in a half -whisper, “Have I kept my promise at last?” and then, but in a lower -tone still, and pointing to the window, she pronounced “Miss Burney.”</p> - -<p>As this seemed intended for private information, previously to an -introduction, be the person whom he might, though accidentally it -was overheard, I instantly bent my head out of the window, as if not -attending to them: yet I caught, unavoidably, the answer, which was -uttered in a voice the most emphatic, though low, “Why did you tell me -it was Miss Burney? Did you think I should not have known it?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 224]</span></p> - -<p>“An awkward feel, now, from having still no certainty of my surmise, or -of what it might produce, made me seize a spying glass, and set about -re-examining the prospect; till a pat on the arm, soon after, by Miss -Palmer, turned me round to the company, just as the still unknown, to -my great regret, was going out of the room with a footman, who seemed -to call him away upon some sudden summons of business. But my father, -who was at Miss Palmer’s elbow, said, “Fanny—Mr. Gibbon!”</p> - -<p>This, too, was a great name; but of how different a figure and -presentation! Fat and ill-constructed, Mr. Gibbon has cheeks of such -prodigious chubbyness, that they envelope his nose so completely, as to -render it, in profile, absolutely invisible. His look and manner are -placidly mild, but rather effeminate; his voice,—for he was speaking -to Sir Joshua at a little distance—is gentle, but of studied precision -of accent. Yet, with these Brobdignatious cheeks, his neat little feet -are of a miniature description; and with these, as soon as I turned -round, he hastily described a quaint sort of circle, with small quick -steps, and a dapper gait, as if to mark the alacrity of his approach, -and then, stopping short when full face to me, he made so singularly -profound a bow, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 225]</span> - -that—though hardly able to keep my gravity—I felt -myself blush deeply at its undue, but palpably intended obsequiousness.</p> - -<p>This demonstration, however, over, his sense of politeness, or project -of flattery, was satisfied; for he spoke not a word, though his gallant -advance seemed to indicate a design of bestowing upon me a little -rhetorical touch of a compliment. But, as all eyes in the room were -suddenly cast upon us both, it is possible he partook a little himself -of the embarrassment he could not but see that he occasioned; and was -therefore unwilling, or unprepared, to hold forth so publicly upon—he -scarcely, perhaps, knew what!—for, unless my partial Sir Joshua should -just then have poured it into his ears, how little is it likely Mr. -Gibbon should have heard of Evelina!</p> - -<p>But at this moment, to my great relief, the Unknown again appeared; and -with a spirit, an air, a deportment that seemed to spread around him -the glow of pleasure with which he himself was visibly exhilarated. But -speech was there none; for dinner, which I suppose had awaited him, was -at the same instant proclaimed; and all the company, in a mixed, quite -irregular, and even confused manner, descended, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">sans ceremonie</i>, to -the eating parlour.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 226]</span></p> - -<p>The Unknown, however, catching the arm and the trumpet of Sir Joshua, -as they were coming down stairs, murmured something, in a rather -reproachful tone, in the knight’s ear; to which Sir Joshua made no -audible answer. But when he had placed himself at his table, he -called out, smilingly, “Come, Miss Burney!—will you take a seat -next mine?”—adding, as if to reward my very alert compliance, “and -then—Mr. Burke shall sit on your other side.”</p> - -<p>“O no, indeed!” cried the sprightly Miss Shipley, who was also next to -Sir Joshua, “I sha’n’t agree to that! Mr. Burke must sit next me! I -won’t consent to part with him. So pray come, and sit down quiet, Mr. -Burke.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Burke—for Mr. Burke, Edmund Burke, it was!—smiled, and obeyed.</p> - -<p>“I only proposed it to make my peace with Mr. Burke,” said Sir Joshua, -passively, “by giving him that place; for he has been scolding me all -the way down stairs for not having introduced him to Miss Burney; -however, I must do it now—Mr. Burke!—Miss Burney!”</p> - -<p>We both half rose, to reciprocate a little salutation; and Mr. Burke -said: “I have been complaining - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 227]</span> - -to Sir Joshua that he left me wholly to -my own sagacity,—which, however, did not here deceive me!”</p> - -<p>Delightedly as my dear father, who had never before seen Mr. Burke in -private society, enjoyed this encounter, I, my dear Mr. Crisp, had a -delight in it that transcended all comparison. No expectation that -I had formed of Mr. Burke, either from his works, his speeches, his -character, or his fame, had anticipated to me such a man as I now -met. He appeared, perhaps, at this moment, to the highest possible -advantage in health, vivacity, and spirits. Removed from the impetuous -aggravations of party contentions, that, at times, by inflaming his -passions, seem, momentarily at least, to disorder his character, he -was lulled into gentleness by the grateful feelings of prosperity; -exhilarated, but not intoxicated, by sudden success; and just risen, -after toiling years of failures, disappointments, fire, and fury, to -place, affluence, and honours; which were brightly smiling on the -zenith of his powers. He looked, indeed, as if he had no wish but to -diffuse philanthropy, pleasure, and genial gaiety all around.</p> - -<p>His figure, when he is not negligent in his carriage, is noble; his -air, commanding; his address, graceful; his voice clear, penetrating, -sonorous, and powerful; his language, copious, eloquent, and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 228]</span> - -changefully impressive; his manners are attractive; his conversation is -past all praise!</p> - -<p>You will call me mad, I know;—but if I wait till I see another Mr. -Burke for such another fit of ecstacy—I may be long enough in my very -sober good senses!</p> - -<p>Sir Joshua next made Mrs. Burke greet the new comer into this select -circle; which she did with marked distinction. She appears to be -pleasing and sensible, but silent and reserved.</p> - -<p>Sir Joshua then went through the same introductory etiquette with Mr. -Richard Burke, the brother; Mr. William Burke, the cousin; and young -Burke, the son of THE Burke. They all, in different ways, seem lively -and agreeable; but at miles, and myriads of miles, from the towering -chief.</p> - -<p>How proud should I be to give you a sample of the conversation of Mr. -Burke! But the subjects were, in general, so fleeting, his ideas so -full of variety, of gaiety, and of matter; and he darted from one of -them to another with such rapidity, that the manner, the eye, the air -with which all was pronounced, ought to be separately delineated to do - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 229]</span> - -any justice to the effect that every sentence, nay, that every word -produced upon his admiring hearers and beholders.</p> - -<p>Mad again! says my Mr. Crisp; stark, staring mad!</p> - -<p>Well, all the better; for “There is a pleasure in being mad,” as I have -heard you quote from Nat Lee, or some other old play-wright, “that none -but madmen know.”</p> - -<p>I must not, however, fail to particularize one point of his discourse, -because ’tis upon your own favourite hobby, politics: and my father -very much admired its candour and frankness.</p> - -<p>In speaking of the great Lord Chatham while he was yet Mr. Pitt, Mr. -Burke confessed his Lordship to have been the only person whom he, Mr. -Burke, did not name in parliament without caution. But Lord Chatham, -he said, had obtained so preponderating a height of public favour, -that though, occasionally, he could not concur in its enthusiasm, he -would not attempt to oppose its cry. He then, however, positively, nay -solemnly, protested, that this was the only subject upon which he did -not talk with exactly the same openness and sincerity in the house as -at the table.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 230]</span></p> - -<p>He bestowed the most liberal praise upon Lord Chatham’s second son, the -<em>now</em> young William Pitt, with whom he is acting; and who had not only, -he said, the most truly extraordinary talents, but who appeared to be -immediately gifted by nature with the judgment which others acquire by -experience.</p> - -<p>“Though judgment,” he presently added, “is not so rare in youth as is -generally supposed. I have commonly observed, that those who do not -possess it early are apt to miss it late.”</p> - -<p>But the subject on which he most enlarged, and most brightened, was -Cardinal Ximenes, which was brought forward, accidentally, by Miss -Shipley.</p> - -<p>That young lady, with the pleasure of youthful exultation in a literary -honour, proclaimed that she had just received a letter from the famous -Doctor Franklin.</p> - -<p>Mr. Burke then, to Miss Shipley’s great delight, burst forth into -an eulogy of the abilities and character of Dr. Franklin, which he -mingled with a history the most striking, yet simple, of his life; and -a veneration the most profound for his eminence in science, and his -liberal sentiments and skill in politics.</p> - -<p>This led him, imperceptibly, to a dissertation upon the beauty, but - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 231]</span> - -rarity, of great minds sustaining great powers to great old age; -illustrating his remarks by historical proofs, and biographical -anecdotes of antique worthies;—till he came to Cardinal Ximenes, who -lived to his ninetieth year. And here he made a pause. He could go, he -said, no further. Perfection rested there!</p> - -<p>His pause, however, producing only a general silence, that indicated no -wish of speech but from himself, he suddenly burst forth again into an -oration so glowing, so flowing, so noble, so divinely eloquent, upon -the life, conduct, and endowments of this Cardinal, that I felt as if I -had never before known what it was to listen! I saw Mr. Burke, and Mr. -Burke only! Nothing, no one else was visible any more than audible. I -seemed suddenly organized into a new intellectual existence, that was -wholly engrossed by one single use of the senses of seeing and hearing, -to the total exclusion of every object but of the figure of Mr. Burke; -and of every sound but of that of his voice. All else—my dear father -alone excepted—appeared but amalgamations of the chairs on which they -were seated; and seemed placed round the table merely as furniture.</p> - -<p>I cannot pretend to write you such a speech—but such sentences as I - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 232]</span> - -can recollect with exactitude, I cannot let pass.</p> - -<p>The Cardinal, he said, gave counsel and admonition to princes and -sovereigns with the calm courage and dauntless authority with which he -might have given them to his own children: yet, to such noble courage, -he joined a humility still more magnanimous, in never desiring to -disprove, or to disguise his own lowly origin; but confessing, at -times, with openness and simplicity, his surprise at the height of the -mountain to which, from so deep a valley, he had ascended. And, in the -midst of all his greatness, he personally visited the village in which -he was born, where he touchingly recognised what remained of his kith -and kin.</p> - -<p>Next, he descanted upon the erudition of this exemplary prelate; his -scarce collection of bibles; his unequalled mass of rare manuscripts; -his charitable institutions; his learned seminaries; and his stupendous -University at Alcala. “Yet so untinged,” he continued, “was his -scholastic lore with the bigotry of the times; and so untainted with -its despotism, that, even in his most forcible acts for securing the -press from licentiousness, he had the enlargement of mind to permit -the merely ignorant, or merely needy instruments of its abuse, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 233]</span> - -when detected in promulgating profane works, from being involved -in their destruction; for though, on such occasions, he caused the -culprits’ shops, or warehouses, to be strictly searched, he let -previous notice of his orders be given to the owners, who then privily -executed judgment themselves upon the peccant property; while they -preserved what was sane, as well as their personal liberty: but—if -the misdemeanour were committed a second time, he manfully left the -offenders, unaided and unpitied, to its forfeiture.</p> - -<p>“To a vigour,” Mr. Burke went on, “that seemed never to calculate upon -danger, he joined a prudence that seemed never to run a risk. Though -often the object of aspersion—as who, conspicuous in the political -world, is not?—he always refused to prosecute; he would not even -answer his calumniators. He held that all classes had a right to stand -for something in public life! “We,” he said, “who are at the head, -Act;—in God’s name let those who are at the other end, Talk! If we are -Wrong, ’tis our duty to hearken, and to mend! If we are Right, we may -be content enough with our superiority, to teach unprovoked malice its -impotence, by leaving it to its own fester.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 234]</span></p> - -<p>“So elevated, indeed,” Mr. Burke continued, “was his disdain of -detraction, that instead of suffering it to blight his tranquillity, he -taught it to become the spur to his virtues!”</p> - -<p>Mr. Burke again paused; paused as if overcome by the warmth of his -own emotion of admiration; and presently he gravely protested, that -the multifarious perfections of Cardinal Ximenes were beyond human -delineation.</p> - -<p>Soon, however, afterwards, as if fearing he had become too serious, -he rose to help himself to some distant fruit—for all this had -passed during the dessert; and then, while standing in the noblest -attitude, and with a sudden smile full of radiant ideas, he vivaciously -exclaimed, “No imagination—not even the imagination of Miss -Burney!—could have invented a character so extraordinary as that of -Cardinal Ximenes; no pen—not even the pen of Miss Burney!—could have -described it adequately!”</p> - -<p>Think of me, my dear Mr. Crisp, at a climax so unexpected! my eyes, at -the moment, being openly rivetted upon him; my head bent forward with -excess of eagerness; my attention exclusively his own!—but now, by -this sudden turn, I myself became the universally absorbing object! for -instantaneously, I felt every eye upon my face; and my cheeks tingled - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 235]</span> - -as if they were the heated focus of stares that almost burnt them alive!</p> - -<p>And yet, you will laugh when I tell you, that though thus struck I -had not time to be disconcerted. The whole was momentary; ’twas like -a flash of lightning in the evening, which makes every object of a -dazzling brightness for a quarter of an instant, and then leaves all -again to twilight obscurity.</p> - -<p>Mr. Burke, by his delicacy, as much as by his kindness, reminding me -of my opening encouragement from Dr. Johnson, looked now everywhere -rather than at me; as if he had made the allusion by mere chance; and -flew from it with a velocity that quickly drew back again to himself -the eyes which he had transitorily employed to see how his superb -compliment was taken: though not before I had caught from my kind Sir -Joshua, a look of congratulatory sportiveness, conveyed by a comic nod.</p> - -<p>My dear Mr. Crisp will be the last to want to be told that I received -this speech as the mere effervescence of chivalrous gallantry in Mr. -Burke:—yet, to be its object, even in pleasantry,—O, my dear Mr. -Crisp, how could I have foreseen such a distinction? My dear father’s - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 236]</span> - -eyes glistened—I wish you could have had a glimpse of him!</p> - -<p>“There has been,” Mr. Burke then, smilingly, resumed, “an age for all -excellence; we have had an age for statesmen; an age for heroes; an age -for poets; an age for artists;—but This,” bowing down, with an air of -obsequious gallantry, his head almost upon the table cloth, “This is -the age for women!”</p> - -<p>“A very happy modern improvement!” cried Sir Joshua, laughing; “don’t -you think so, Miss Burney?—but that’s not a fair question to put to -you; so we won’t make a point of your answering it. However,” continued -the dear natural knight, “what Mr. Burke says is very true, now. The -women begin to make a figure in every thing. Though I remember, when I -first came into the world, it was thought but a poor compliment to say -a person did a thing like a lady!”</p> - -<p>“Ay, Sir Joshua,” cried my father, “but, like Moliere’s physician, -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">nous avons changé tout cela!</i>”</p> - -<p>“Very true, Dr. Burney,” replied the Knight; “but I remember the -time—and so, I dare say, do you—when it was thought a slight, if not -a sneer, to speak any thing of a lady’s performance: it was only in - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 237]</span> - -mockery to talk of painting like a lady; singing like a lady; playing -like a lady—”</p> - -<p>“But now,” interrupted Mr. Burke, warmly, “to talk of writing like a -lady, is the greatest compliment that need be wished for by a man!”</p> - -<p>Would you believe it, my daddy—every body now, himself and my father -excepted, turned about, Sir Joshua leading the way—to make a little -playful bow to ... can you ever guess to whom?</p> - -<p>Mr. Burke, then, archly shrugging his shoulders, added, “What is left -now, exclusively, for US; and what we are to devise in our own defence, -I know not! We seem to have nothing for it but assuming a sovereign -contempt! for the next most dignified thing to possessing merit, is an -heroic barbarism in despising it!”</p> - -<p>I can recollect nothing else—so adieu!</p> - -<p>One word, however, more, by way of my last speech and confession on -this subject. Should you demand, now that I have seen, in their own -social circles, the two first men of letters of our day, how, in one -word, I should discriminate them; I answer, that I think Dr. Johnson -the first Discourser, and Mr. Burke the first Converser, of the -British empire.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 238]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MR. GIBBON.</h2> - -<p>It may seem strange, in giving an account of this meeting, not to have -recited even one speech from so celebrated an author as Mr. Gibbon. But -not one is recollected. His countenance looked always serene; yet he -did not appear to be at his ease. His name and future fame seemed to -be more in his thoughts than the present society, or than any present -enjoyment: and the exalted spirits of Mr. Burke, at this period, might -rather alarm than allure a man whose sole care in existence seemed -that of paying his court to posterity; and induce him, therefore, to -evade coming into collision with so dauntless a compeer; from the sage -apprehension of making a less splendid figure, at this moment, as a -colloquial competitor, than he had reason to expect making, hereafter, -as a Roman historian.</p> - -<p>Sir Joshua Reynolds, however, gave, sportively, and with much -self-amusement, another turn to his silence; for after significantly, -in a whisper, asking the Memorialist, whether she had remarked the -taciturnity of Mr. Gibbon?—he laughingly demanded also, whether she - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 239]</span> - -had discovered its cause?</p> - -<p>“No,” she answered; “nor guessed it.”</p> - -<p>“Why, he’s terribly afraid you’ll snatch at him for a character in your -next book!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 240]</span></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - - -<p>It may easily be imagined that the few words, but highly distinguishing -manner in which Mr. Burke had so courteously marked his kindness -towards <cite>Evelina; or, A Young Lady’s Entrance into the World</cite>, awakened -in the mind of Dr. Burney no small impatience to develop what might be -his opinion of <cite>Cecilia; or, the Memoirs of an Heiress</cite>, just then on -the eve of publication.</p> - -<p>And not long was his parental anxiety kept in suspense. That generous -orator had no sooner given an eager perusal to the work, than he -condescended to write a letter of the most indulgent, nay eloquent -approvance to its highly honoured author; for whom he vivaciously -displayed a flattering partiality, to which he inviolably adhered -through every change, either in his own affairs, or in hers, to the end -of his life.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>All the manuscript memorandums that remain of the year 1782, in the -hand-writing of Dr. Burney, are teeming with kind exultation at the -progress of this second publication; though the anecdote that most -amused him, and that he wrote triumphantly to the author, was one - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 241]</span> - -that had been recounted to him personally at Buxton, whence the then -Lord Chancellor, Thurlow, went on a visit to Lord Gower,<a name="FNanchor_42" id="FNanchor_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> -at -Trentham Hall; where, on being conducted to a splendid library, he -took a volume of Cecilia out of his pocket, exclaiming, “What signify -all your fine and flourishing works here? See! I have brought you a -little book that’s worth them all!” and he threw it upon the table, -open, comically, at the passage where Hobson talks of “<em>my Lord High -Chancellor, and the like of that</em>.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>From the time of the Richmond Hill assemblage, the acquaintance of Dr. -Burney with Mr. Burke ripened into a regard that was soon mellowed -into true and genial friendship, such as well suited the primitive -characters, however it might clash, occasionally, with the current -politics, of both.</p> - -<p>Influenced by such a chief, the whole of the family of Mr. Burke -followed his example; and the son, brother, and cousin, always joined -the Doctor and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 242]</span> - -his daughter upon every accidental opportunity: while Mrs. Burke -called in St. Martin’s-street to fix the acquaintance, by a pressing -invitation to both father and daughter, to pass a week at Beaconsfield.</p> - -<p>Not to have done this at so favourable a juncture in the spirits, the -powers, and the happiness of Mr. Burke, always rested on both their -minds with considerable regret; and on one of them it rests still! -for an hour with Mr. Burke, in that bright halcyon season of his -glory, concentrated in matter, and embellished in manner, as much wit, -wisdom, and information, as might have demanded weeks, months,—perhaps -more—to elicit from any other person:—and even, perhaps, at any other -period, from himself:—Dr. Johnson always excepted.</p> - -<p>But the engagements of Dr. Burney tied him to the capital; and no -suspicion occurred that the same resplendent sunshine which then -illuminated the fortune, the faculties, and the character of Mr. Burke, -would not equally vivify a future invitation. Not one foreboding -cloud lowered in the air with misty menace of the deadly tempests, -public and domestic, that were hurtling over the head of that exalted -but passion-swayed orator; though such were so soon to darken the -refulgence, now so vivid, of his felicity and his fame; the public, by - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 243]</span> - -warping his judgment—the domestic, by breaking his heart!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MRS. THRALE.</h2> - -<p>Dr. Burney, when the Cecilian business was arranged, again conveyed -the Memorialist to Streatham. No further reluctance on his part, nor -exhortations on that of Mr. Crisp, sought to withdraw her from that -spot, where, while it was in its glory, they had so recently, and with -pride, seen her distinguished. And truly eager was her own haste, when -mistress of her time, to try once more to soothe those sorrows and -chagrins in which she had most largely participated, by answering to -the call, which had never ceased tenderly to pursue her, of return.</p> - -<p>With alacrity, therefore, though not with gaiety, they re-entered the -Streatham gates—but they soon perceived that they found not what they -had left!</p> - -<p>Changed, indeed, was Streatham! Gone its chief, and changed his -relict! unaccountably, incomprehensibly, indefinably changed! She was -absent and agitated; not two minutes could she remain in a place; she - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 244]</span> - -scarcely seemed to know whom she saw; her speech was so hurried it was -hardly intelligible; her eyes were assiduously averted from those who -sought them; and her smiles were faint and forced.</p> - -<p>The Doctor, who had no opportunity to communicate his remarks, went -back, as usual, to town; where soon also, with his tendency, as usual, -to view every thing cheerfully, he revolved in his mind the new cares -and avocations by which Mrs. Thrale was perplexed; and persuaded -himself that the alteration which had struck him, was simply the effect -of her new position.</p> - -<p>Too near, however, were the observations of the Memorialist for so easy -a solution. The change in her friend was equally dark and melancholy: -yet not personal to the Memorialist was any alteration. No affection -there was lessened; no kindness cooled; on the contrary, Mrs. Thrale -was more fervent in both; more touchingly tender; and softened in -disposition beyond all expression, all description: but in every -thing else,—in health, spirits, comfort, general looks, and manner, -the change was at once universal and deplorable. All was misery and -mystery: misery the most restless; mystery the most unfathomable.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 245]</span></p> - -<p>The mystery, however, soon ceased; the solicitations of the most -affectionate sympathy could not long be urged in vain;—the mystery -passed away—not so the misery! That, when revealed, was but to both -parties doubled, from the different feelings set in movement by its -disclosure.</p> - -<p>The astonishing history of the enigmatical attachment which impelled -Mrs. Thrale to her second marriage, is now as well known as her name: -but its details belong not to the history of Dr. Burney; though the -fact too deeply interested him, and was too intimately felt in his -social habits, to be passed over in silence in any memoirs of his life.</p> - -<p>But while ignorant yet of its cause, more and more struck he became -at every meeting, by a species of general alienation which pervaded -all around at Streatham. His visits, which, heretofore, had seemed -galas to Mrs. Thrale, were now begun and ended almost without notice: -and all others,—Dr. Johnson not excepted,—were cast into the same -gulph of general neglect, or forgetfulness;—all,—save singly this -Memorialist!—to whom, the fatal secret once acknowledged, Mrs. Thrale -clung for comfort; though she saw, and generously pardoned, how wide -she was from meeting approbation.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 246]</span></p> - -<p>In this retired, though far from tranquil manner, passed many months; -during which, with the acquiescent consent of the Doctor, his daughter, -wholly devoted to her unhappy friend, remained uninterruptedly at -sad and altered Streatham; sedulously avoiding, what at other times -she most wished, a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête à tête</i> with her father. Bound by ties -indissoluble of honour not to betray a trust that, in the ignorance of -her pity, she had herself unwittingly sought, even to him she was as -immutably silent, on this subject, as to all others—save, singly, to -the eldest daughter<a name="FNanchor_43" id="FNanchor_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> of the house; whose conduct, through scenes -of dreadful difficulty, notwithstanding her extreme youth, was even -exemplary; and to whom the self-beguiled, yet generous mother, gave -full and free permission to confide every thought and feeling to the -Memorialist.</p> - -<p>And here let a tribute of friendship be offered up to the shrine of -remembrance, due from a thousand ineffaceably tender recollections. -Not wildly, and with male and headstrong passions, as has currently -been asserted, was this connexion brought to bear on the part of Mrs. -Thrale. It was struggled against - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 247]</span> - -at times with even agonizing energy; and with efforts so vehement, -as nearly to destroy the poor machine they were exerted to save. But -the subtle poison had glided into her veins so unsuspectedly, and, at -first, so unopposedly, that the whole fabric was infected with its -venom; which seemed to become a part, never to be dislodged, of its -system.</p> - -<p>It was, indeed, the positive opinion of her physician and friend, Sir -Lucas Pepys, that so excited were her feelings, and so shattered, by -their early indulgence, was her frame, that the crisis which might be -produced through the medium of decided resistance, offered no other -alternative but death or madness!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Various incidental circumstances began, at length, to open the -reluctant eyes of Dr. Burney to an impelled, though clouded foresight, -of the portentous event which might latently be the cause of the -alteration of all around at Streatham. He then naturally wished for -some explanation with his daughter, though he never forced, or even -claimed her confidence; well knowing, that voluntarily to give it him -had been her earliest delight.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 248]</span></p> - -<p>But in taking her home with him one morning, to pass a day in St. -Martin’s-Street, he almost involuntarily, in driving from the paddock, -turned back his head towards the house, and, in a tone the most -impressive, sighed out: “Adieu, Streatham!—Adieu!”</p> - -<p>His daughter perceived his eyes were glistening; though he presently -dropt them, and bowed down his head, as if not to distress her by any -look of examination; and said no more.</p> - -<p>Her tears, which had long been with difficulty restrained from -overflowing in his presence, through grief at the unhappiness, and -even more at what she thought the infatuation of her friend, now burst -forth, from emotions that surprised away forbearance.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney sat silent and quiet, to give her time for recollection; -though fully expecting a trusting communication.</p> - -<p>She gave, however, none: his commands alone could have forced a -disclosure; but he soon felt convinced, by her taciturnity, that -she must have been bound to concealment. He pitied, therefore, but -respected her secrecy; and, clearing his brow, finished the little -journey in conversing upon their own affairs.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 249]</span></p> - -<p>This delicacy of kindness, which the Memorialist cannot recollect and -not record, filled her with ever living gratitude.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">DR. JOHNSON.</h2> - -<p>A few weeks earlier, the Memorialist had passed a nearly similar scene -with Dr. Johnson. Not, however, she believes, from the same formidable -species of surmise; but from the wounds inflicted upon his injured -sensibility, through the palpably altered looks, tone, and deportment, -of the bewildered lady of the mansion; who, cruelly aware what would be -his wrath, and how overwhelming his reproaches against her projected -union, wished to break up their residing under the same roof before it -should be proclaimed.</p> - -<p>This gave to her whole behaviour towards Dr. Johnson, a sort of -restless petulancy, of which she was sometimes hardly conscious; at -others, nearly reckless; but which hurt him far more than she purposed, -though short of the point at which she aimed, of precipitating a change -of dwelling that would elude its being cast, either by himself or the -world, upon a passion that her understanding blushed to own; even - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 250]</span> - -while she was sacrificing to it all of inborn dignity that she had been -bred to hold most sacred.</p> - -<p>Dr. Johnson, while still uninformed of an entanglement it was -impossible he should conjecture, attributed her varying humours to the -effect of wayward health meeting a sort of sudden wayward power: and -imagined that caprices, which he judged to be partly feminine, and -partly wealthy, would soberize themselves away in being unnoticed. -He adhered, therefore, to what he thought his post, in being the -ostensible guardian protector of the relict and progeny of the late -chief of the house; taking no open or visible notice of the alteration -in the successor—save only at times, and when they were <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête à -tête</i>, to this Memorialist; to whom he frequently murmured portentous -observations on the woeful, nay alarming deterioration in health and -disposition of her whom, so lately, he had signalized as the gay -mistress of Streatham.</p> - -<p>But at length, as she became more and more dissatisfied with her -own situation, and impatient for its relief, she grew less and less -scrupulous with regard to her celebrated guest: she slighted his -counsel; did not heed his remonstrances; avoided his society; was - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 251]</span> - -ready at a moment’s hint to lend him her carriage when he wished to -return to Bolt Court; but awaited a formal request to accord it for -bringing him back.</p> - -<p>The Doctor then began to be stung; his own aspect became altered; and -depression, with indignant uneasiness, sat upon his venerable front.</p> - -<p>It was at this moment that, finding the Memorialist was going one -morning to St. Martin’s-Street, he desired a cast thither in the -carriage, and then to be set down at Bolt Court.</p> - -<p>Aware of his disturbance, and far too well aware how short it was -of what it would become when the cause of all that passed should be -detected, it was in trembling that the Memorialist accompanied him -to the coach, filled with dread of offending him by any reserve, -should he force upon her any inquiry; and yet impressed with the utter -impossibility of betraying a trusted secret.</p> - -<p>His look was stern, though dejected, as he followed her into the -vehicle; but when his eye, which, however short sighted, was quick to -mental perception, saw how ill at ease appeared his companion, all -sternness subsided into an undisguised expression of the strongest -emotion, that seemed to claim her sympathy, though to revolt from - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 252]</span> - -her compassion; while, with a shaking hand, and pointing finger, he -directed her looks to the mansion from which they were driving; and, -when they faced it from the coach window, as they turned into Streatham -Common, tremulously exclaiming: “That house ... is lost to <em>me</em>—for -ever!”</p> - -<p>During a moment he then fixed upon her an interrogative eye, -that impetuously demanded: “Do you not perceive the change I am -experiencing?”</p> - -<p>A sorrowing sigh was her only answer.</p> - -<p>Pride and delicacy then united to make him leave her to her taciturnity.</p> - -<p>He was too deeply, however, disturbed to start or to bear any other -subject; and neither of them uttered a single word till the coach stopt -in St. Martin’s-street, and the house and the carriage door were opened -for their separation! He then suddenly and expressively looked at her, -abruptly grasped her hand, and, with an air of affection, though in a -low, husky voice, murmured rather than said: “Good morning, dear lady!” -but turned his head quickly away, to avoid any species of answer.</p> - -<p>She was deeply touched by so gentle an acquiescence in her declining -the confidential discourse upon which he had indubitably meant to - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 253]</span> - -open, relative to this mysterious alienation. But she had the comfort -to be satisfied, that he saw and believed in her sincere participation -in his feelings; while he allowed for the grateful attachment that -bound her to a friend so loved; who, to her at least, still manifested -a fervour of regard that resisted all change; alike from this new -partiality, and from the undisguised, and even strenuous opposition of -the Memorialist to its indulgence.</p> - -<p>The “Adieu, Streatham!” that had been uttered figuratively by Dr. -Burney, without any knowledge of its nearness to reality, was now fast -approaching to becoming a mere matter of fact; for, to the almost equal -grief, however far from equal loss, of Dr. Johnson and Dr. Burney, -Streatham, a short time afterwards, though not publicly relinquished, -was quitted by Mrs. Thrale and her family.</p> - -<p>Both friends rejoiced, however, that the library and the pictures, -at least, on this first breaking up, fell into the hands of so -able an appreciator of literature and of painting, as the Earl of -Shelburne.<a name="FNanchor_44" id="FNanchor_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 254]</span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Thrale removed first to Brighton, and next repaired to pass a -winter in Argyll Street, previously to fixing her ultimate proceedings.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">GENERAL PAOLI.</h2> - -<p>The last little narration that was written to Mr. Crisp of any party -at Streatham, as it contains a description of the celebrated Corsican -General, Paoli, with whom Dr. Burney had there been invited to dine; -and whom Mr. Crisp, also, had been pressed, though unavailingly, to -meet; will here be copied, in the hope that the reader, like Dr. -Burney, will learn with pleasure General Paoli’s own history of his -opening intercourse with Mr. Boswell.</p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">TO SAMUEL CRISP, ESQ.,</span></p> - -<p class="center"><i>Chesington</i>.</p> - -<p>How sorry am I, my dear Mr. Crisp, that you could not come to Streatham -at the time Mrs. Thrale hoped to see you; for when are we likely to -meet at Streatham again? And you would have been much pleased, I am -sure, with the famous Corsican General, Paoli, who spent the day - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 255]</span> - -there, and was extremely communicative and agreeable.</p> - -<p>He is a very pleasing man; tall and genteel in his person, remarkably -attentive, obliging, and polite; and as soft and mild in his speech, -as if he came from feeding sheep in Corsica, like a shepherd; rather -than as if he had left the warlike field where he had led his armies to -battle.</p> - -<p>I will give you a little specimen of his language and discourse, as -they are now fresh in my ears.</p> - -<p>When Mrs. Thrale named me, he started back, though smilingly, and said: -‘I am very glad enough to see you in the face, Miss Evelina, which I -have wished for long enough. O charming book! I give it you my word I -have read it often enough. It is my favourite studioso for apprehending -the English language; which is difficult often. I pray you, Miss -Evelina, write some more little volumes of the quickest.’</p> - -<p>I disclaimed the name, and was walking away; but he followed me with an -apology. ‘I pray your pardon, Mademoiselle. My ideas got in a blunder -often. It is Miss Borni what name I meant to accentuate, I pray your -pardon, Miss Evelina. I make very much error in my English many times - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 256]</span> - -enough.’</p> - -<p>My father then lead him to speak of Mr. Boswell, by inquiring into the -commencement of their connexion.</p> - -<p>“He came,” answered the General, “to my country sudden, and he fetched -me some letters of recommending him. But I was of the belief he might, -in the verity, be no other person but one imposter. And I supposed, -in my mente, he was in the privacy one espy; for I look away from him -to my other companies, and, in one moment, when I look back to him, I -behold it in his hands his tablet, and one pencil! O, he was at the -work, I give it you my honour, of writing down all what I say to some -persons whatsoever in the room! Indeed I was angry enough. Pretty -much so, I give it you my word. But soon after, I discern he was no -impostor, and besides, no espy; for soon I find it out I was myself -only the monster he came to observe, and to describe with one pencil -in his tablet! O, is a very good man, Mr. Boswell, in the bottom! so -cheerful, so witty, so gentle, so talkable. But, at the first, O, I was -indeed <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">faché</i> of the sufficient. I was in one passion, in my mente, -very well.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 257]</span></p> - -<p>He had brought with him to Streatham a dog, of which he is exceeding -fond; but he apologised for being so accompanied, from the safety which -he owed to that faithful animal, as a guard from robbers. “I walk -out,” he cried, “when I will one night, and I lose myself. The dark it -comes on of a blackish colour. I don’t know where I put my foot! In a -moment comes behind me one hard step. I go on. The hard step he follow. -Sudden I turn round; a little fierce, it may be. I meeted one man: an -ogly one. He had not sleeped in the night! He was so big whatsoever; -with one clob stick, so thick to my arm. He lifted it up. I had no -pistollettos; I call my dog. I open his mouth, for the survey to his -teeth. My friend, I say, look to the muzzle! Give me your clob stick at -the moment, or he shall destroy you when you are ten! The man kept his -clob stick; but he took up his heels, and he ran away from that time to -this moment!”</p> - -<p>After this, talking of the Irish giant who is now shewn in town, he -said, “He is so large, I am as a baby! I look at him, and I feel so -little as a child! Indeed my indignation it rises when I see him hold -up one arm, spread out to the full, to make me walk under it for my -canopy! I am as nothing! and it turns my bile more than whatsoever to - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 258]</span> - -find myself in the power of one man, who fetches from me half a crown -for looking at his seven feet!”</p> - -<p>All this comic English he pronounces in a manner the most comically -pompous. Nevertheless, my father thinks he will soon speak better, -and that he seems less to want language than patience to assort -it; hurrying on impetuously, and any how, rather than stopping for -recollection.</p> - -<p>He diverted us all very much after dinner, by begging leave of -Mrs. Thrale to give “one toast;” and then, with smiling pomposity, -pronouncing “The great Vagabond!” meaning to designate Dr. Johnson as -“The Rambler.”</p> - -<p>This is the last visit remembered, or, at least, narrated, of -Streatham.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 259]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">HISTORY OF MUSIC.</h2> - -<p>Streatham thus gone, though the intercourse with Mrs. Thrale, who now -resided in Argyle-street, London, was as fondly, if not as happily, -sustained as ever, Dr. Burney had again his first amanuensis and -librarian wholly under his roof; and the pleasure of his parental -feelings doubled those of his renown; for the new author was included, -with the most flattering distinction, in almost every invitation that -he received, or acquaintance that he made, where a female presided in -the society.</p> - -<p>Never was practical proof more conspicuous of the power of surmounting -every difficulty that rises against our progress to an appointed end, -when Inclination and Business take each other by the hand in its -pursuit, than was now evinced by the conduct and success of Dr. Burney -in his musical enterprize.</p> - -<p>He vigilantly visited both the Universities, leaving nothing -uninvestigated that assiduity or address could ferret out to his -purpose. The following account of these visits is copied from his own -memorials:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>“I went three several years to the Bodleian and other libraries in - -<span class="pagenum-block">[Pg 260]</span> - -that most admirable seminary of learning and science, the Oxford -University. I had previously spent a week at Cambridge; and, at both -those Universities, I had, in my researches, discovered curious -and rare manuscript tracts on Music of the middle ages, before the -invention of the press, not mentioned in any of the printed or -manuscript catalogues; and which the most learned librarians did not -know were in existence, from the several different Treatises in Latin, -French, and obsolete English, being bound up in odd volumes, and only -the first of them mentioned in the lettering, or title of the volume. -At Christ Church, to which Dr. Aldrich had bequeathed his musical -library, I met with innumerable compositions by the best Masters of -Italy, as well as of our own country, that were then extant; such as -Carissimi, Luigi, Cesti, Stradella, Tye, Tallis, Bird, Morley, and -Purcel. I made a catalogue of this admirable collection, including the -tracts and musical compositions of the learned and ingenious Dean, its -founder; a copy of which I had the honour to present to the college.”</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>The British Museum Library he ransacked, pen in hand, repeatedly: -that of Sir Joseph Bankes was as open to him as his own: Mr. Garrick -conducted him, by appointment, to that of the Earl of Shelburne, -afterwards Marquis of Lansdowne; which was personally shewn to him, -with distinguished consideration, by that literary nobleman. To name -every other to which he had access would be prolixity; but to omit that -of his Majesty, George the Third, would be insensibility. Dr. Burney - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 261]</span> - -was permitted to make a full examination of its noble contents; and -to take thence whatever extracts he thought conducive to his design, -by his Majesty’s own gracious orders, delivered through the then -librarian, Mr. Barnard.</p> - -<p>But for bringing these accumulating materials into play, time still, -with all the vigilance of his grasp upon its fragments, was wanting; -and to counteract the relentless calls of his professional business, -he was forced to superadd an unsparing requisition upon his sleep—the -only creditor that he never paid.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">SAM’S CLUB.</h2> - -<p>Immediately after vacating Streatham, Dr. Burney was called upon, by -his great and good friend of Bolt Court, to become a member of a club -which he was then instituting for the emolument of Samuel, a footman of -the late Mr. Thrale. This man, who was no longer wanted for the broken -establishment of Streatham, had saved sufficient money for setting -up a humble species of hotel, to which this club would be a manifest -advantage. It was called, from the name of the honest domestic whom Dr. -Johnson wished to serve, Sam’s Club. It was held in Essex-street, in - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 262]</span> - -the Strand. Its rules, &c. are printed by Mr. Boswell.</p> - -<p>To enumerate all the coteries to which the Doctor, with his new -associate, now resorted, would be uninteresting, for almost all are -passed away! and nearly all are forgotten; though there was scarcely -a name in their several sets that did not, at that time, carry some -weight of public opinion. Such of them, nevertheless, that have left -lasting memorials of their character, their wit, or their abilities, -may not unacceptably be selected for some passing observations.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">BAS BLEU SOCIETIES.</h2> - -<p>To begin with what still is famous in the annals of conversation, the -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Bas Bleu</i> Societies.</p> - -<p>The first of these was then in the meridian of its lustre, but had -been instituted many years previously at Bath. It owed its name to an -apology made by Mr. Stillingfleet, in declining to accept an invitation -to a literary meeting at Mrs. Vesey’s, from not being, he said, in the -habit of displaying a proper equipment for an evening assembly. “Pho, -pho,” cried she, with her well known, yet always original simplicity, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 263]</span> - -while she looked, inquisitively, at him and his accoutrements; “don’t -mind dress! Come in your blue stockings!” With which words, humourously -repeating them as he entered the apartment of the chosen coterie, Mr. -Stillingfleet claimed permission for appearing, according to order. -And those words, ever after, were fixed, in playful stigma, upon Mrs. -Vesey’s associations.<a name="FNanchor_45" id="FNanchor_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a></p> - -<p>This original coterie was still headed by Mrs. Vesey, though it was -transferred from Bath to London. Dr. Burney and this Memorialist were -now initiated into the midst of it. And however ridicule, in public, -from those who had no taste for this bluism; or envy, in secret, from -those who had no admission to it, might seek to depreciate its merit, -it afforded to all lovers of intellectual entertainment a variety of -amusement, an exemption from form, and a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">carte blanche</i> certainty of -good-humour from the amiable and artless hostess, that rendered it as -agreeable as it was singular: for Mrs. Vesey was as - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 264]</span> - -mirth-provoking from her oddities and mistakes, as Falstaff was -wit-inspiring from his vaunting cowardice and sportive epicurism.</p> - -<p>There was something so like the manoeuvres of a character in a comedy -in the manners and movements of Mrs. Vesey, that the company seemed -rather to feel themselves assembled, at their own cost and pleasure, -in some public apartment, to saunter or to repose; to talk or to hold -their tongues; to gaze around, or to drop asleep, as best might suit -their humours; than drawn together to receive and to bestow, the -civilities of given and accepted invitations.</p> - -<p>Her fears were so great of the horror, as it was styled, of a circle, -from the ceremony and awe which it produced, that she pushed all the -small sofas, as well as chairs, pell-mell about the apartments, so as -not to leave even a zig-zag path of communication free from impediment: -and her greatest delight was to place the seats back to back, so -that those who occupied them could perceive no more of their nearest -neighbour than if the parties had been sent into different rooms: an -arrangement that could only be eluded by such a twisting of the neck as -to threaten the interlocutors with a spasmodic affection.</p> - -<p>But there was never any distress beyond risibility: and the company - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 265]</span> - -that was collected was so generally of a superior cast, that talents -and conversation soon found—as when do they miss it?—their own -level: and all these extraneous whims merely served to give zest and -originality to the assemblage.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Vesey was of a character to which it is hardly possible to find a -parallel, so untrue would it be to brand it with positive folly; yet so -glaringly was it marked by almost incredible simplicity.</p> - -<p>With really lively parts, a fertile imagination, and a pleasant -quickness of remark, she had the unguardedness of childhood, joined to -an Hibernian bewilderment of ideas that cast her incessantly into some -burlesque situation; and incited even the most partial, and even the -most sensitive of her own countrymen, to relate stories, speeches, and -anecdotes of her astonishing self-perplexities, her confusion about -times and circumstances, and her inconceivable jumble of recollections -between what had happened, or what might have happened; and what had -befallen others that she imagined had befallen herself; that made her -name, though it could never be pronounced without personal regard, be -constantly coupled with something grotesque.</p> - -<p>But what most contributed to render the scenes of her social circle - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 266]</span> - -nearly dramatic in comic effect, was her deafness; for with all the -pity due to that socialless infirmity; and all the pity doubly due to -one who still sought conversation as the first of human delights, it -was impossible, with a grave face, to behold her manner of constantly -marring the pleasure of which she was in pursuit.</p> - -<p>She had commonly two or three, or more, eartrumpets hanging to her -wrists, or slung about her neck; or tost upon the chimney-piece or -table; with intention to try them, severally and alternately, upon -different speakers, as occasion might arise; and the instant that any -earnestness of countenance, or animation of gesture, struck her eye, -she darted forward, trumpet in hand, to inquire what was going on; -but almost always arrived at the speaker at the moment that he was -become, in his turn, the hearer; and eagerly held her brazen instrument -to his mouth to catch sounds that were already past and gone. And, -after quietly listening some minutes, she would gently utter her -disappointment, by crying: “Well! I really thought you were talking of -something?”</p> - -<p>And then, though a whole group would hold it fitting to flock around -her, and recount what had been said; if a smile caught her roving -eye from any opposite direction, the fear of losing something more - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 267]</span> - -entertaining, would make her beg not to trouble them, and again rush -on to the gayer talkers. But as a laugh is excited more commonly by -sportive nonsense than by wit, she usually gleaned nothing from her -change of place, and hastened therefore back to ask for the rest of -what she had interrupted. But generally finding that set dispersing, or -dispersed, she would look around her with a forlorn surprise, and cry: -“I can’t conceive why it is that nobody talks tonight? I can’t catch a -word!”</p> - -<p>Or, if some one of peculiar note were engaging attention; if Sir -William Hamilton, for example, were describing Herculaneum or Pompeii; -or Mrs. Carter and Mrs. Hannah More were discussing some new author, -or favourite work; or if the then still beautiful, though old, Duchess -of Leinster, was encountering the beautiful and young Duchess of -Devonshire; or, if Mr. Burke, having stept in, and, marking no one -with whom he wished to exchange ideas, had seized upon the first -book or pamphlet he could catch, to soothe his harassed mind by -reading—which he not seldom did, and most incomparably, a passage or -two aloud; circumstances of such a sort would arouse in her so great -an earnestness for participation, that she would hasten from one spot - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 268]</span> - -to another, in constant hope of better fare; frequently clapping, in -her hurry, the broad part of the brazen ear to her temple: but after -waiting, with anxious impatience, for the development she expected, -but waiting in vain, she would drop her trumpet, and almost dolorously -exclaim: “I hope nobody has had any bad news to night? but as soon as I -come near any body, nobody speaks!”</p> - -<p>Yet, with all these peculiarities, Mrs. Vesey was eminently amiable, -candid, gentle, and even sensible; but she had an ardour to know -whatever was going forward, and to see whoever was named, that kept her -curiosity constantly in a panic; and almost dangerously increased the -singular wanderings of her imagination.</p> - -<p>Here, amongst the few remaining men of letters of the preceding -literary era, Dr. Burney met Horace Walpole, Owen Cambridge, and Soame -Jenyns, who were commonly, then, denominated the old wits; but who -rarely, indeed, were surrounded by any new ones who stood much chance -of vying with them in readiness of repartee, pith of matter, terseness -of expression, or pleasantry in expanding gay ideas.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 269]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MRS. MONTAGU.</h2> - -<p>“Yet, while to Mrs. Vesey, the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Bas Bleu</i> society owed its origin and -its epithet, the meetings that took place at Mrs. Montagu’s were soon -more popularly known by that denomination; for though they could not be -more fashionable, they were far more splendid.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Montagu had built a superb new house, which was magnificently -fitted up, and appeared to be rather appropriate for princes, nobles, -and courtiers, than for poets, philosophers, and blue stocking -votaries. And here, in fact, rank and talents were so frequently -brought together, that what the satirist uttered scoffingly, the author -pronounced proudly, in setting aside the original claimant, to dub Mrs. -Montagu Queen of the Blues.</p> - -<p>This majestic title was hers, in fact, from more flattering rights -than hang upon mere pre-eminence of riches or station. Her Essay on -the Learning and Genius of Shakespeare; and the literary zeal which -made her the voluntary champion of our immortal bard, had so national -a claim to support and to praise, that her book, on its first coming -out, had gained the almost general plaudits that mounted her, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 270]</span> - -thenceforward, to the Parnassian heights of female British literature.</p> - -<p>But, while the same <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">bas bleu</i> appellation was given to these two -houses of rendezvous, neither that, nor even the same associates, -could render them similar. Their grandeur, or their simplicity, their -magnitude, or their diminutiveness, were by no means the principal -cause of this difference: it was far more attributable to the Lady -Presidents than to their abodes: for though they instilled not their -characters into their visitors, their characters bore so large a -share in their visitors’ reception and accommodation, as to influence -materially the turn of the discourse, and the humour of the parties, at -their houses.</p> - -<p>At Mrs. Montagu’s, the semi-circle that faced the fire retained during -the whole evening its unbroken form, with a precision that made it seem -described by a Brobdignagian compass. The lady of the castle commonly -placed herself at the upper end of the room, near the commencement of -the curve, so as to be courteously visible to all her guests; having -the person of the highest rank, or consequence, properly, on one side, -and the person the most eminent for talents, sagaciously, on the other; -or as near to her chair, and her converse, as her favouring eye, and a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 271]</span> - -complacent bow of the head, could invite him to that distinction.<a name="FNanchor_46" id="FNanchor_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a></p> - -<p>Her conversational powers were of a truly superior order; strong, just, -clear, and often eloquent. Her process in argument, notwithstanding an -earnest solicitude for pre-eminence, was uniformly polite and candid. -But her reputation for wit seemed always in her thoughts, marring their -natural flow, and untutored expression. No sudden start of talent urged -forth any precarious opinion; no vivacious new idea varied her logical -course of ratiocination. Her smile, though most generally benignant, -was rarely gay; and her liveliest sallies had a something of anxiety -rather than of hilarity—till their success was ascertained by applause.</p> - -<p>Her form was stately, and her manners were dignified. Her face retained -strong remains of beauty throughout life; and though its native cast -was evidently that of severity, its expression was softened off in -discourse by an almost constant desire to please.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 272]</span></p> - -<p>If beneficence be judged by the happiness which it diffuses, whose -claim, by that proof, shall stand higher than that of Mrs. Montagu, -from the munificence with which she celebrated her annual festival -for those hapless artificers, who perform the most abject offices of -any authorized calling, in being the active guardians of our blazing -hearths?<a name="FNanchor_47" id="FNanchor_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a></p> - -<p>Not to vain glory, then, but to kindness of heart, should be adjudged -the publicity of that superb charity, which made its jetty objects, for -one bright morning, cease to consider themselves as degraded outcasts -from society.</p> - -<p>Not all the lyrics of all the rhymsters, nor all the warblings of all -the spring-feathered choristers, could hail the opening smiles of May, -like the fragrance of that roasted beef, and the pulpy softness of -those puddings of plums, with which Mrs. Montagu yearly renovated those -sooty little agents to the safety of our most blessing luxury.</p> - -<p>Taken for all in all, Mrs. Montagu was rare in her attainments; -splendid in her conduct; open to - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 273]</span> - -the calls of charity; forward to precede those of indigent genius; and -unchangeably just and firm in the application of her interest, her -principles, and her fortune, to the encouragement of loyalty, and the -support of virtue.</p> - -<p>In this house, amongst innumerable high personages and renowned -conversers, Dr. Burney met the famous Hervey, Bishop of Derry, late -Earl of Bristol; who then stood foremost in sustaining the character -for wit and originality that had signalised his race, in the preceding -century, by the current phrase of the day, that the world was peopled -with men, women, and Herveys.</p> - -<p>Here, also, the Honourable Horace Walpole, afterwards Lord Orford, -sometimes put forth his quaint, singular, often original, generally -sarcastic, and always entertaining powers.</p> - -<p>And here the Doctor met the antique General Oglethorpe, who was pointed -out to him by Mr. Walpole for a man nearly in his hundredth year; an -assertion that, though exaggerated, easily gained credit, from his -gaunt figure and appearance. The General was pleasing, well bred, and -gentle.</p> - -<p>Horace Walpole, sportively desirous, as he whispered to Dr. Burney, -that the Doctor’s daughter - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 274]</span> - -should see the humours of a man so near to -counting his age by a century, insisted, one night at this house, upon -forming a little group for that purpose; to which he invited, also, Mr. -and Mrs. Locke: exhibiting thus the two principal points of his own -character, from which he rarely deviated: a thirst of amusement from -what was singular; with a taste yet more forcible for elegance from -what was excellent.</p> - -<p>At the side of General Oglethorpe, Mr. Walpole, though much past -seventy, had almost the look, and had quite the air of enjoyment -of a man who was yet almost young: and so skeleton-like was the -General’s meagre form, that, by the same species of comparison, Mr. -Walpole almost appeared, and, again, almost seemed to think himself, -if not absolutely fat, at least not despoiled of his <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">embonpoint</i>; -though so lank was his thinness, that every other person who stood -in his vicinity, might pass as if accoutred and stuffed for a stage -representation of Falstaff.<a name="FNanchor_48" id="FNanchor_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 275]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MRS. THRALE.</h2> - -<p>But—previously to the late Streatham catastrophe—blither, more bland, -and more gleeful still, was the personal celebrity of Mrs. Thrale, -than that of either Mrs. Montagu or Mrs. Vesey. Mrs. Vesey, indeed, -gentle and diffident, dreamed not of any competition: but Mrs. Montagu -and Mrs. Thrale had long been set up as fair rival candidates for -colloquial eminence; and each of them thought the other alone worthy -to be her peer. Openly, therefore, when they met, they combatted -for precedence of admiration; with placid, though high-strained -intellectual exertion on one side, and an exuberant pleasantry of -classical allusion or quotation on the other, without the smallest -malice in either; for so different were their tastes as well as -attributes, that neither of them envied, while each did justice to the -powers of her opponent.</p> - -<p>The blue parties at Mrs. Thrale’s, though neither marked with as much -splendour as those of Mrs. Montagu, nor with so curious a selection -of distinguished individuals as those of Mrs. Vesey, were yet held -of equal height with either in general estimation, as Dr. Johnson, -“himself a host,” was usually - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 276]</span> - -at Mrs. Thrale’s; or was always, by her -company, expected: and as she herself possessed powers of entertainment -more vivifying in gaiety than any of her competitors.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Various other meetings were formed in imitation of the same plan of -dispensing with cards, music, dice, dancing, or the regales of the -festive board, to concentrate in intellectual entertainment all the -hopes of the guest, and the efforts of the host and hostess. And, with -respect to colloquial elegance, such a plan certainly is of the first -order for bringing into play the highest energies of our nature; and -stimulating their fairest exercise in discussions upon the several -subjects that rise with every rising day; and that take and give a -fresh colour to Thought as well as to Expression, from the mind of -every fresh discriminator.</p> - -<p>And such meetings, when the parties were well assorted, and in -good-humour, formed, at that time, a coalition of talents, and a -brilliancy of exertion, that produced the most informing dissertations, -or the happiest sallies of wit and pleasantry, that could emanate from -social intercourse.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 277]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">HON. MISS MONCTON.<a name="FNanchor_49" id="FNanchor_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a></h2> - -<p>One of the most striking parties of this description, after the three -chiefs, was at the residence of the Hon. Miss Moncton; where there -was a still more resplendent circle of rank, and a more distinguished -assemblage of foreigners, than at any other; with always, in addition, -somebody or something uncommon and unexpected, to cause, or to gratify -curiosity.</p> - -<p>Not merely as fearful of form as Mrs. Vesey was Miss Moncton; she went -farther; she frequently left her general guests wholly to themselves. -There was always, she knew, good fare for intellectual entertainment; -and those who had courage to seek might partake of its advantages; -while those who had not that quality, might amuse themselves as lookers -on. And though some might be disconcerted, no one who had candour -could be offended, when they saw, from the sprightly good-humour of -their hostess, that this reception was instigated by gay, not studied -singularity.</p> - -<p>Miss Moncton usually sat about the middle of the room, lounging on one -chair, while bending over the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 278]</span> - -back of another, in a thin fine muslin dress, even at Christmas; while -all around her were in satins, or tissues; and without advancing to -meet any one, or rising, or placing, or troubling herself to see -whether there were any seats left for them, she would turn round her -head to the announcement of a name, give a nod, a smile, and a short -“How do you do?—” and then, chatting on with her own set, leave them -to seek their fortune.</p> - -<p>To these splendid, and truly uncommon assemblages, Dr. Burney and his -daughter accepted, occasionally, some of the frequent invitations with -which they were honoured.</p> - -<p>And here they had sometimes the happiness to meet, amidst the nobles -and dames of the land, with all the towering height of his almost -universal superiority, Mr. Burke; who, sure, from the connexions of -the lady president, to find many chosen friends with whom he could -coalesce or combat upon literary or general topics, commonly entered -the grand saloon with a spirited yet gentle air, that shewed him full -fraught with the generous purpose to receive as well as to dispense -social pleasure; untinged with one bitter drop of political rancour; -and clarified from all acidity of party sarcasm.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 279]</span></p> - -<p>And here, too, though only latterly, and very rarely, appeared the sole -star that rose still higher in the gaze of the world, Dr. Johnson. Miss -Moncton had met with the Doctor at Brighton, where that animated lady -eagerly sought him as a gem to crown her coteries; persevering in her -attacks for conquest, with an enthusiasm that did honour to her taste; -till the Doctor, surprised and pleased, rewarded her exertions by a -good-humoured compliance with her invitations.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.</h2> - -<p>But of these coteries, none surpassed, if they equalled, in easy -pleasantry, unaffected intelligence, and information free from pedantry -or formality, those of the Knight of Plympton. Sir Joshua Reynolds -was singularly simple, though never inelegant in his language; and -his classical style of painting could not be more pleasing, however -more sublimely it might elevate and surprise, than his manners and -conversation.</p> - -<p>There was little or no play of countenance, beyond cheerfulness or -sadness, in the features of Sir Joshua; but in his eyes there was - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 280]</span> - -a searching look, that seemed, upon his introduction to any person -of whom he had thought before he had seen, to fix, in his painter’s -mind, the attitude, if it may be so called, of face that would -be most striking for a picture. But this was rarely obvious, and -never disconcerting; he was eminently unassuming, unpretending, and -natural.<a name="FNanchor_50" id="FNanchor_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a></p> - -<p>Dr. Burney has left amongst his papers a note of an harangue which he -had heard from Sir Joshua Reynolds, at the house of Dudley Long, when -the Duke of Devonshire, and various other peers, were present, and when -happiness was the topic of discussion. Sir Joshua for some time had -listened in silence to their several opinions; and then impressively -said: “You none of you, my lords, if you will forgive my telling you -so, can speak upon this subject with as much knowledge of it as I can. - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 281]</span> - -Dr. Burney perhaps might; but it is not the man who looks around him -from the top of a high mountain at a beautiful prospect on the first -moment of opening his eyes, who has the true enjoyment of that noble -sight: it is he who ascends the mountain from a miry meadow, or a -ploughed field, or a barren waste; and who works his way up to it -step by step; scratched and harassed by thorns and briars; with here -a hollow, that catches his foot; and there a clump that forces him -all the way back to find out a new path;—it is he who attains to it -through all that toil and danger; and with the strong contrast on his -mind of the miry meadow, or ploughed field, or barren waste, for which -it was exchanged,—it is he, my lords, who enjoys the beauties that -suddenly blaze upon him. They cause an expansion of ideas in harmony -with the expansion of the view. He glories in its glory; and his mind -opens to conscious exaltation; such as the man who was born and bred -upon that commanding height, with all the loveliness of prospect, and -fragrance, and variety, and plenty, and luxury of every sort, around, -above, beneath, can never know; can have no idea of;—at least, not -till he come near some precipice, in a boisterous wind, that hurls him -from - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 282]</span> - -the top to the bottom, and gives him some taste of what he had -possessed, by its loss; and some pleasure in its recovery, by the pain -and difficulty of scrambling back to it.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MRS. REYNOLDS.</h2> - -<p>Mrs. Reynolds also had her coteries, which were occasionally attended -by most of the persons who have been named; equally from consideration -to her brother, and personal respect to herself.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Reynolds wrote an essay on Taste, which she submitted, in the year -1781, to the private criticism of her sincere friend, Dr. Johnson.</p> - -<p>But it should seem that the work, though full of intrinsic merit, was -warpt in its execution by that perplexity of ideas in which perpetual -ponderings, and endless recurrence to first notions, so subversive -of all progression, cloudily involved the thoughts, as well as the -expressions, of this ingenious lady; for the award of Dr. Johnson, -notwithstanding it contained high praise and encouragement for the -revision of the treatise, frankly avows, “that her notions, though -manifesting a depth of penetration, and a nicety of remark, such -as Locke or Pascal - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 283]</span> - -might be proud of, must everywhere be rendered -smoother and plainer; and he doubts whether many of them are very clear -even to her own mind.”</p> - -<p>Probably the task which he thus pointed out to her of development and -explanation, was beyond the boundary of her powers; for though she -lived twenty years after the receipt of this counsel, the work never -was published.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MRS. CHAPONE.</h2> - -<p>Mrs. Chapone, too, had her own coteries, which, though not sought -by the young, and, perhaps, fled from by the gay, were rational, -instructive, and social; and it was not with self-approbation that they -could ever be deserted. But the search of greater gaiety, and higher -fashion, rarely awaits that award.</p> - -<p>The meetings, in truth, at her dwelling, from her palpable and organic -deficiency in health and strength for their sustenance, though they -never lacked of sense or taste, always wanted spirit; a want which -cast over them a damp that made the same interlocutors, who elsewhere -grouped audiences around them from their fame as discoursers, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 284]</span> - -appear to be assembled here merely for the grave purpose of performing a -duty.</p> - -<p>Yet here were to be seen Mrs. Montagu, Mrs. Carter, Hannah More, the -clever family of the Burroughs, the classically lively Sir William -Pepys, and the ingenious and virtuous Mrs. Barbauld.</p> - -<p>But though the dignity of her mind demanded, as it deserved, the -respect of some return to the visits which her love of society induced -her to pay, it was a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête à tête</i> alone that gave pleasure to the -intercourse with Mrs. Chapone: her sound understanding, her sagacious -observations, her turn to humour, and the candour of her affectionate -nature, all then came into play without effort: and her ease of mind, -when freed from the trammels of doing the honours of reception, seemed -to soften off, even to herself, her corporeal infirmities. It was thus -that she struck Dr. Burney with the sense of her worth; and seemed -portraying in herself the original example whence the precepts had -been drawn, for forming the unsophisticated female character that are -displayed in the author’s Letters on the improvement of the mind.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 285]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">SIR WILLIAM WELLER PEPYS.</h2> - -<p>But the meetings of this sort, to which sarcasm, sport, or envy have -given the epithet of blueism, that Dr. Burney most frequently and the -latest attended, were those at the house of Mr., since Sir William -Weller Pepys.</p> - -<p>The passion of Sir William for literature, his admiration of talents, -and his rapturous zeal for genius, made him receive whoever could -gratify any of those propensities, with an enchantment of pleasure -that seemed to carry him into higher regions. The parties at his house -formed into little, separate, and chosen groups, less awful than at -Mrs. Montagu’s, and less awkward than at Mrs. Vesey’s: and he glided -adroitly from one of these groups to another, till, after making -the round of politeness necessary for the master of the house, his -hospitality felt acquitted of its devoirs; and he indulged, without -further restraint, in the ardent delight of fixing his standard for the -evening in the circle the most to his taste: leaving to his serenely -acquiescent wife the more forbearing task of equalizing attention. -To do that, indeed, beyond what was exacted by good breeding for the -high, and by kindness for - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 286]</span> - -the insignificant part of his guests, would -have been a discipline to all his feelings, that would have converted -those parties, that were his pride and his joy, into exercises of the -severest penitence.</p> - -<p>But while an animated reciprocation of ideas in conversation, a lively -memory of early anecdotes, and a boundless readiness at recital of -the whole mass of English poets, formed the gayest enjoyment of his -chosen and happiest hours, the voice of justice must raise him still -higher for solid worth. His urbanity was universal. He never looked so -charmed as when engaged in some good office: and his charities were as -expansive as the bounty of those who possessed more than double his -income. So sincere, indeed, was his benevolence, that it seemed as much -a part of himself as his limbs, and could have been torn from him with -little less difficulty.<a name="FNanchor_51" id="FNanchor_51"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 287]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">SOAME JENYNS.</h2> - -<p>Amongst the <em>Bouquets</em>, as Dr. Burney denominated the fragrant -flatteries courteously lavished, in its day, on the Memoirs of an -Heiress, few were more odorous to him than those offered by the famous -old Wits, Soame Jenyns and Owen Cambridge.</p> - -<p>Soame Jenyns, at the age of seventy-eight, condescended to make -interest with Mrs. Ord to arrange an acquaintance for him, at her house -in Queen Ann-street, with the father and the daughter.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 288]</span></p> - - -<p>Soame Jenyns is so well known as an author, and was in his time so -eminent as a wit; and his praise gave such pleasure to Dr. Burney, that -another genuine letter, written for Mr. Crisp at the moment, with an -account of the meeting, will be here abridged, as characteristically -marking the parental gratification of the Doctor.</p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">TO SAMUEL CRISP, ESQ.</span></p> - -<p class="center"><i>Chesington.</i></p> - -<p>My dear Mr. Crisp will be impatient, I know, for a history of the -long-planned re-encounter with the famed Soame Jenyns.</p> - -<p>My father was quite enchanted at his request; and no wonder! for who -could have expected such civil curiosity from so renowned an old wit?</p> - -<p>We were late; my father could not be early: but I was not a little -disconcerted to find, instead of Mr. Soame Jenyns <em>all alone by -himself</em>, a room full of company; not in groups, nor yet in a circle, -but seated square; <em>i.e.</em> close to the wainscot, leaving a vacancy -in the middle of the apartment sufficient for dancing three or four -cotillons.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Ord almost ran to the door to receive us, crying out, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 289]</span> - -“Why have you been so late, Dr. Burney? We have been waiting for you -this hour. I was afraid there was some mistake. Mr. Soame Jenyns has -been dying with impatience for the arrival of Miss Burney. Some of us -thought she was naughty, and would not come; others thought it was only -coquetry. But, however, my dear Miss Burney, let us repair the lost -time as quickly as we can, and introduce you to one another without -further delay.”</p> - -<p>You may believe how happy I was at this “some thought,” and “others -thought,” which instantly betrayed that every body was apprised they -were to witness this grand encounter: And, to mark it still more -strongly, every one, contrary to all present custom, stood up,—as if -to see the sight!</p> - -<p>I really felt so abashed at meeting so famous an author with such -publicity; and so much ashamed of the almost ridiculously undue -ceremony of the rising, that I knew not what to do, nor how to -<em>comport</em> myself. But they all still kept staringly upright, till Mr. -Jenyns, who was full dressed in a court suit, of apricot-coloured silk, -lined with white satin, made all the slow speed in his power, from the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 290]</span> - -less thus urged?—began an harangue the most elegantly complimentary, -upon the pleasure, and the honour, and the what not? of seeing, my dear -daddy, your very obedient and obsequious humble servant, and spinster,</p> - -<p class="sig-right5">F. B.</p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I made all possible reverences, and endeavoured to get to a seat; but -Mrs. Ord, when I turned from him, took my hand, and led me, in solemn -form, to what seemed to be the group of honour, to present me to Mrs. -Soame Jenyns, who, with all the rest, was still immovably standing! The -reverences were repeated here, and returned; but in silence, however, -on both sides; so they did very well—that is, they were only dull.</p> - -<p>I then hoped to escape to my dear Mrs. Thrale, who most invitingly held -out her hand to me, and said, pointing to a chair by her own, “Must I, -too, make interest to be introduced to Miss Burney?”</p> - -<p>This, however, was not allowed; for my dear Lady Clement Cotterel, Mrs. -Ord, again taking my hand, and parading me to a sofa, said, “Come, Miss -Burney, and let me place you by Mrs. Buller.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 291]</span></p> - -<p>I was glad by this time to be placed any where; for not till I was thus -accommodated, did the company, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">en masse</i>, re-seat themselves!</p> - -<p>Mr. Cambridge, senior, then advanced to speak to me; but before I could -answer, or, rather, hear him, Mrs. Ord again summoned poor Mr. Jenyns, -and made him my right hand neighbour on the sofa, saying, “There, Mr. -Jenyns! and there, Miss Burney! now I have put you fairly together, I -have done with you!”</p> - -<p>This dear, good Mrs. Ord! what a mistaken road was this for bring -us into acquaintance! I verily think Mr. Jenyns was almost out of -countenance himself; for he had probably said all his say; and would -have been as glad of a new subject, and a new companion, as I could -have been myself.</p> - -<p>To my left hand neighbour I had never before been presented. Mrs. -Buller is tall and elegant in her person, genteel and ugly in her face, -and abrupt and singular in her manners. She is, however, very clever, -sprightly, and witty, and much in vogue. She is, also, a Greek scholar, -a celebrated traveller in search of foreign customs and persons, and -every way original, in her knowledge and her enterprising way of life. -And she has had the maternal heroism—which with me is her first - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 292]</span> - -quality—of being the guide of her young son in making the grand tour.</p> - -<p>Mr. Soame Jenyns, thus again called upon, resolved, after a pause, -not to be called upon in vain; and therefore, with the chivalrous -courtesy that he seemed to think the call demanded, began an eulogy -unrivalled, I think, in exuberance and variety of animated phraseology. -All creation in praise seemed to open to his fancy! No human being had -ever begun Cecilia, or Evelina, who had power to lay them down unread: -pathos, humour, interest, moral, contrast of character, of manners, of -language—O! such <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">mille jolis choses</i>!</p> - -<p>I heard, however, but the leading words—which—for I see your arch -smile!—you will say I have not failed to retain!—though every body -else, the whole room being attentively dumb, probably heard how they -were strung together. And indeed, my dear father, who was quite -delighted, says the panegyric was as witty as it was flattering. But -for myself, had I been carried to a theatre, and perched upon a stool, -to hear a public oration upon my simple penmanship, I could hardly have -been more confounded. I bowed my head, after the first three or - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 293]</span> - -four sentences, by way of marking that I thought he had done: but done -he had not the more! I then turned away to the other side, hoping to -relieve him as well as myself; for I am sure he must have been full as -much worried; but I only came upon Mrs. Buller, who took up the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">éloge</i> -just where Mr. Jenyns, for want of breath, let it drop; splendidly -saying, how astonishing it was, that in a nation the most divided of -any in the known world, alike in literature and in politics, any living -pen could be found to bring about a universal harmony of opinion.</p> - -<p>You will only, as usual, laugh, I know, my dear Mr. Crisp, and rather -exult than be sorry for my poor embarrassed <em>phiz</em> during this playful -duet. So also do I, too, now it is over; and feel grateful to the -inflictors: but, for all that, I was tempted to wish either them or -myself in the Elysian fields—for I won’t say at Jericho—during the -infliction. And indeed, as to this present evening, the extraordinary -things that were sported by Mr. Jenyns, and seconded by Mrs. Buller, -would have brought blushes into the practised cheeks of Agujari or of -Garrick. I changed so often from hot to cold, between the shame of -insufficiency, and the consciousness that while they engaged - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 294]</span> - -every ear themselves, they put me forward to engage every eye, that -I felt now in a fever, and now in an ague, from the awkwardness of -appearing thus expressly summoned to</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center smaller">“Sit attentive to my own applause—!”</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>and my dear father himself, with all his gratified approbation, said I -really, at times, looked quite ill. Mrs. Thrale told me, afterwards, -she should have come to <em>naturalize</em> me with a little common chat, -but that I had been so publicly destined for Soame Jenyns before my -arrival, that she did not dare interfere!</p> - -<p>At length, however, finding they seemed but to address a breathing -statue, they entered into a discussion that was a most joyful relief to -me, upon foreign and English customs; and especially upon the rarity, -in England, of good conversation; from the perpetual intervention of -politics, always noisy; or of dissipation, always frivolous.</p> - -<p>Here they were joined by Mr. Cambridge, who, as <em>all the -world</em><a name="FNanchor_52" id="FNanchor_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a> -knows, is an intimate friend of - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 295]</span> - -Soame Jenyns; and who is always truly original and entertaining: but -imagine my surprise—surprise and delight! in a room and a company like -this, where all, except Mr. Cambridge and Mr. Jenyns, were of the beau -monde of the present day, suddenly to hear pronounced the name of my -dear Mr. Crisp! for, in the midst of this discourse upon customs and -conversations in different countries, Mr. Cambridge, who asserted that -every man, possessing steadiness with spirit, might live in this great -nation exactly as he pleased; either with friends or with strangers, -either in public or in solitude, smilingly illustrated his remark, in -calling upon my father to second him, by reciting the example of Mr. -Crisp! I almost jumped with pleasure and astonishment at the sound of -that name, and the praise with which, from the mover and the seconder, -it was instantly accompanied. How eloquent grew my father!—but here, I -know, I must stop.</p> - -<p>When the party broke up, Mr. Jenyns thought it necessary—or, at least, -thought it would so be deemed by Mrs. Ord, to recapitulate, though -with concentration, his panegyric of the highly honoured Cecilia. And -Mrs. Buller renewed, also, her civilities, and hoped “I would not -look strange upon them!”—for - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 296]</span> - -I looked, my dear father told me -afterwards, all the colours of the rainbow; adding, “Why Fanny,</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center smaller">“‘I’d not look at all, if I couldn’t look better!’”<a name="FNanchor_53" id="FNanchor_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a></p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>But how I blush when I think of Mrs. Boscawen, Mrs. and Miss -Thrale, Mrs. Carter, Mrs. Garrick, Miss More, Mrs. Chapone, Miss -Gregory<a name="FNanchor_54" id="FNanchor_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a>—nay, Mrs. Montagu herself—being called upon to a scene -such as this, not as personages of the drama; but as auditresses and -spectatresses! I can only hope they all laugh,—for, if not, I am sure -they must all scoff.</p> - -<p>Dear, good—mistaken Mrs. Ord!—But my father says such panegyric, and -such panegyrists, may well make amends for a little want of <em>tact</em>.</p> - -<p>But I have not told you what was said by Mr. Cambridge, and I dare not! -lest you should think that fervent friend a little non-compos! for -’twas higher and more piquant in eulogy than all the rest put together. -’Twas to my father, however, that he uttered his lively sentiments; for -he studies little me as much as my little books; and he knew how he -should double my gratification, by - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 297]</span> - -wafting his kind praise to me secretly, softly, and unsuspectedly, -through so genial a channel.</p> - -<p>How I wish you could catch a glimpse of my dear father upon these -occasions! and see the conscious smiles, which, however decorously -suppressed by pursing his lips, gleam through every turn, every line, -every bit and morsel of his kind countenance during the processes of -these agreeable flummeries—for such, I know, my dear Mr. Crisp will -call them—and, helas! but too truly! Agreeable, however, they are! -’twere vain to deny that. And here—O how unexpected! I am always -trembling in fear of a reverse—but not from you, my dearest Mr. Crisp, -will it come to your faithful,</p> - -<p class="sig-right5">F. B.</p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Pleasant to Dr. Burney as was this tide of favour, by which he was -exhilarated through this second publication of his daughter, it had not -yet reached the climax to which it soon afterwards arose; which was the -junction of the two first men of the country, if not of the age, in -proclaiming each to the other, at an assembly at Miss Moncton’s, where -they seated themselves by her side, their kind approvance of this work; -and proclaiming it, each animated by the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 298]</span> - -spirit of the other, “in the -noblest terms that our language, in its highest glory, is capable of -emitting.”</p> - -<p>Such were the words of Dr. Johnson himself, in speaking afterwards to -Dr. Burney of Mr. Burke’s share in this flattering dialogue; to which -Dr. Burney ever after looked back as to the height of his daughter’s -literary honours; though he could scarcely then foresee the extent, and -the expansion, of that indulgent partiality with which each of them, -ever after, invariably distinguished her to the last hour of their -lives.</p> - -<p>Thus salubriously for Dr. Burney had been cheered the opening winter -of 1782, by the celebrated old Wits, Owen Cambridge and Soame Jenyns; -through the philanthropy and good-humour which cheered for themselves -and their friends the winter of their own lives: and thus radiant with -a warmth which Sol in his summer’s glory could not deepen, had gone on -the same winter to 1783, through the glowing suffrage of the two first -luminaries that brightened the constellation of genius of the reign of -George the Third,—Dr. Johnson and Edmund Burke——</p> - -<p>But not in fair harmony of progression with this - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 299]</span> - -commencement -proceeded the year 1783! its April had a harshness which its January -had escaped. It brought with it no fragrance of happiness to Dr. -Burney. With a blight opened this fatal spring, and with a blast it -closed!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MRS. THRALE.</h2> - -<p>All being now, though in the dark, and unannounced, arranged for the -determined alliance, Mrs. Thrale abandoned London as she had forsaken -Streatham, and, in the beginning of April, retired with her three -eldest daughters to Bath; there to reside, till she could complete a -plan, then in agitation, for superseding the maternal protection with -all that might yet be attainable of propriety and dignity.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney was deeply hurt by this now palpably threatening event: -the virtues of Mrs. Thrale had borne an equal poize in his admiration -with her talents; both were of an extraordinary order. He had praised, -he had loved, he had sung them. Nor was he by any means so severe a -disciplinarian over the claims of taste, or the elections of the heart, -as - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 300]</span> - -to disallow their unalienable rights of being candidly heard, and -favourably listened to, in the disposal of our persons and our fates; -her choice, therefore, would have roused no severity, though it might -justly have excited surprise, had her birth, fortune, and rank in -life alone been at stake. But Mrs. Thrale had ties that appeared to -him to demand precedence over all feelings, all inclinations—in five -daughters, who were juvenile heiresses.</p> - -<p>To Bath, however, she went; and truly grieved was the prophetic spirit -of Dr. Burney at her departure; which he looked upon as the catastrophe -of Streatham.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MRS. DELANY.</h2> - -<p>From circumstances peculiarly fortunate with regard to the time of -their operation, some solace opened to Dr. Burney for himself, and -still more to his parental kindness for this Memorialist, in this -season of disappointment and deprivation, from a beginning intercourse -which now took place for both, with <em>the fairest model of female -excellence of the days that were passed</em>, Mrs. Delany.<a name="FNanchor_55" id="FNanchor_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 301]</span></p> - -<p>Such were the words by which Mrs. Delany had been pictured to this -Memorialist by Mr. Burke, at Miss Moncton’s assembly; and such was the -impression of her character under which this connexion was begun by Dr. -Burney.</p> - -<p>The proposition for an acquaintance, and the negotiation for its -commencement between the parties, had been committed, by Mrs. Delany -herself, to Mrs. Chapone; whose literary endowments stood not higher, -either in public or in private estimation, than the virtues of her -mind, and the goodness of her heart. Both were evinced by her popular -writings for the female sex, at a time when its education, whether from -Timidity or Indolence, required a spur, far more certainly than its -cynic traducers can prove that now, from Ambition or Temerity, it calls -for a bridle.</p> - -<p>As Dr. Burney could not make an early visit, and Mrs. Delany could -not receive a late one, Mrs. Chapone was commissioned to engage the -daughter to a quiet dinner; and the Doctor to join the party in the -evening.</p> - -<p>This was assented to with the utmost pleasure, both father and daughter -being stimulated in curiosity and expectance by Mr. Crisp, who had - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 302]</span> - -formerly known and admired Mrs. Delany, and had been a favourite with -her bosom friend, the Dowager Duchess of Portland; and with some other -of her elegant associates.</p> - -<p>As this venerable lady still lives in the memoirs and correspondence of -Dean Swift,<a name="FNanchor_56" id="FNanchor_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a> an account of this interview, abridged from a letter -to Mr. Crisp, will not, perhaps, be unwillingly received, as a genuine -picture of an aged lady of rare accomplishments, and high-bred manners, -of olden times; who had strikingly been distinguished by Dean Swift, -and was now energetically esteemed by Mr. Burke.</p> - -<p>Under the wing of the respectable Mrs. Chapone, this Memorialist was -first conveyed to the dwelling of Mrs. Delany in St. James’s Place.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Delany was alone; but the moment her guests were announced, with -an eagerness that seemed forgetful of her years, and that denoted the -most flattering pleasure, she advanced to the door of her apartment to -receive them.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Chapone presented to her by name the Memorialist, whose hand she -took with almost youthful vivacity, saying: “Miss Burney must - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 303]</span> - -pardon me if I give her an old-fashioned reception; for I know nothing -new!” And she kindly saluted her.</p> - -<p>With a grace of manner the most striking, she then placed Mrs. Chapone -on the sofa, and led the Memorialist to a chair next to her own, -saying: “Can you forgive, Miss Burney, the very great liberty I have -taken of asking you to my little dinner? But you could not come in -the morning; and I wished so impatiently to see one from whom I have -received such very extraordinary pleasure, that I could not bear to put -it off to another day: for I have no days, now, to throw away! And if -I waited for the evening, I might, perhaps, have company. And I hear -so ill in mixt society, that I cannot, as I wish to do, attend to more -than one at a time; for age, now, is making me more stupid even than I -am by nature. And how grieved and mortified I should have been to have -known I had Miss Burney in the room, and not to have heard what she -said!”</p> - -<p>Tone, manner, and look, so impressively marked the sincerity of this -humility, as to render it,—her time of life, her high estimation in -the world, and her rare acquirements considered,—as touching as it was -unexpected to her new guest.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 304]</span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Delany still was tall, though some of her height was probably -lost. Not much, however, for she was remarkably upright. There were -little remains of beauty left in feature; but benevolence, softness, -piety, and sense, were all, as conversation brought them into play, -depicted in her face, with a sweetness of look and manner, that, -notwithstanding her years, were nearly fascinating.</p> - -<p>The report generally spread of her being blind, added surprise to -pleasure at such active personal civilities in receiving her visitors. -Blind, however, she palpably was not. She was neither led about the -room, nor afraid of making any false step, or mistake; and the turn -of her head to those whom she meant to address, was constantly right. -The expression, also, of her still pleasing, though dim eyes, told no -sightless tale; but, on the contrary, manifested that she had by no -means lost the view of the countenance any more than of the presence of -her company.</p> - -<p>But the fine perception by which, formerly, she had drawn, painted, cut -out, worked, and read, was obscured; and of all those accomplishments -in which she had excelled, she was utterly deprived.</p> - -<p>Of their former possession, however, there were - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 305]</span> - -ample proofs to -demonstrate their value; her apartments were hung round with pictures -of her own painting, beautifully designed and delightfully coloured; -and ornaments of her own execution of striking elegance, in cuttings -and variegated stained paper, embellished her chimney-piece; partly -copied from antique studies, partly of fanciful invention; but all -equally in the chaste style of true and refined good taste.</p> - -<p>At the request of Mrs. Chapone, she instantly and unaffectedly brought -forth a volume of her newly-invented Mosaic flower-work; an art of her -own creation; consisting of staining paper of all possible colours, and -then cutting it into strips, so finely and delicately, that when pasted -on a dark ground, in accordance to the flower it was to produce, it -had the appearance of a beautiful painting; except that it rose to the -sight with a still richer effect: and this art Mrs. Delany had invented -at seventy-five years of age!<a name="FNanchor_57" id="FNanchor_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a></p> - -<p>It was so long, she said, after its suggestion, before she brought her -work into any system, that in - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 306]</span> - -the first year she finished only two flowers: but in the second she -accomplished sixteen; and in the third, one hundred and sixty. And -after that, many more. They were all from nature, the fresh gathered, -or still growing plant, being placed immediately before her for -imitation. Her collection consisted of whatever was most choice and -rare in flowers, plants, and weeds; or, more properly speaking, field -flowers; for, as Thomson ingeniously says, it is the “dull incurious” -alone who stigmatise these native offsprings of Flora by the degrading -title of weeds.</p> - -<p>Her plan had been to finish one thousand, for a complete herbal; but -its progress had been stopped short, by the feebleness of her sight, -when she was within only twenty of her original scheme.</p> - -<p>She had always marked the spot whence she took, or received, her model, -with the date of the year on the corner of each flower, in different -coloured letters; “but the last year,” she meekly said, “when I found -my eyes becoming weaker and weaker, and threatening to fail me before -my plan could be completed, I cut out my initials, M. D., in white, for -I fancied myself nearly working in my winding sheet!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 307]</span></p> - -<p>There was something in her smile at this melancholy speech that -blended so much cheerfulness with resignation, as to render it, to the -Memorialist, extremely affecting.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Chapone inquired whether her eyes had been injured by any cold?</p> - -<p>Instantly, at the question, recalling her spirits, “No, no!” she -replied; “nothing has attacked them but my reigning malady, old -age!—’Tis, however, only what we are all striving to obtain! And -I, for one, have found it a very comfortable state. Yesterday, -nevertheless, my peculiar infirmity was rather distressing to me. I -received a note from young Mr. Montagu,<a name="FNanchor_58" id="FNanchor_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a> written in the name of -his aunt,<a name="FNanchor_59" id="FNanchor_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a> that required an immediate answer. But how could I give -it to what I could not even read? My good Astley<a name="FNanchor_60" id="FNanchor_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a> was, by great -chance, gone abroad; and my housemaid can neither write nor read; and -my man happened to be in disgrace, so I could not do him such a favour -[smiling] as to be obliged to him! I resolved, therefore, to try, once -more, to read myself; and I hunted out my old long-laid-by magnifier. -But it would not do! it was all in vain!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 308]</span></p> - -<p>I then ferretted out a larger glass; and with that, I had the great -satisfaction to make out the first word,—but before I could get at the -second, even the first became a blank! My eyes, however, have served me -so long and so well, that I should be very ungrateful to quarrel with -them. I then, luckily, recollected that my cook is a scholar! So I sent -for her, and we made out the billet together—which, indeed, deserved a -much better answer than I, or my cook either, scholar as she is, could -bestow. But my dear niece will be with me ere long, and then I shall -not be quite such a bankrupt to my correspondents.”</p> - -<p>Bankrupt, indeed, was she not, to gaiety, to good-humour, or to -polished love of giving pleasure to her social circle, any more than to -keeping pace with her correspondents.</p> - -<p>When Mrs. Chapone mentioned, with much regret, that a previous evening -engagement must force her away at half-past seven o’clock, “Half-past -seven?” Mrs. Delany repeated, with an arch smile; “O fie! fie! Mrs. -Chapone! why Miss Larolles would not for the world go anywhere before -eight or nine!”<a name="FNanchor_61" id="FNanchor_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a></p> - -<p>And when the Memorialist, astonished as well as - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 309]</span> - -diverted at such a sally from Mrs. Delany, yet desirous, from -embarrassment, not to seem to have noticed it, turned to look at some -of the pictures, and stopped at a charming portrait of Madame de -Savigné, to remark its expressive mixture of sweetness, intelligence, -and vivacity, the smile of Mrs. Delany became yet archer, as she -sportively said, “Yes!—she looks very—<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">enjouée</i>, as Captain Aresby -would say.”</p> - -<p>This was not a speech to lessen, or meant to lessen, either surprise or -amusement in the Memorialist, who, nevertheless, quietly continued her -examination of the pictures; till she stopped at a portrait that struck -her to have an air of spirit and genius, that induced her to inquire -whom it represented.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Delany did not mention the name, but only answered, “I don’t know -how it is, Mrs. Chapone, but I can never, of late, look at that picture -without thinking of poor Belfield.”</p> - -<p>This was heard with a real start—though certainly not of pain! But -that Mrs. Delany, at her very advanced time of life, eighty-three, -should thus have personified to herself the characters of a book so -recently published, mingled in its pleasure nearly as much astonishment -as gratification.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 310]</span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Delany—still clear-sighted to countenance, at least—seemed to -read her thoughts, and, kindly taking her hand, smilingly said: “You -must forgive us, Miss Burney! it is not quite a propriety, I own, to -talk of these people before you; but we don’t know how to speak at all, -now, without naming them, they run so in our heads!”</p> - -<p>Early in the evening, they were joined by Mrs. Delany’s beloved and -loving friend, the Duchess Dowager of Portland; a lady who, though not -as exquisitely pleasing, any more than as interesting by age as Mrs. -Delany,—who, born with the century, was now in her 83d year, had yet -a physiognomy that, when lighted up by any discourse in which she took -a part from personal feelings, was singularly expressive of sweetness, -sense, and dignity; three words that exactly formed the description of -her manners; which were not merely free from pride, but free, also, -from its mortifying deputy, affability.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Delany, that pattern of the old school in high politeness, was -now, it is probable, in the sphere whence Mr. Burke had signalized -her by that character; for her reception of the Duchess of Portland, -and her conduct to that noble friend, strikingly displayed the -self-possession that good - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 311]</span> - -taste with good breeding can bestow, even -upon the most timid mind, in doing the honours of home to a superior.</p> - -<p>She welcomed her Grace with as much respectful ceremony as if this had -been a first visit; to manifest that, what in its origin, she had taken -as an honour, she had so much true humility as to hold to be rather -more than less so in its continuance; yet she constantly exerted a -spirit, in pronouncing her opposing or concurring sentiments, in the -conversation that ensued, that shewed as dignified an independence of -character, as it marked a sincerity as well as happiness of friendship, -in the society of her elevated guest.</p> - -<p>The Memorialist was presented to her Grace, who came with the -expectation of meeting her, in the most gentle and flattering terms by -Mrs. Delany; and she was received with kindness rather than goodness. -The watchful regard of the Duchess for Mrs. Delany, soon pointed out -the marked partiality which that revered lady was already conceiving -for her new visitor; and the Duchess, pleased to abet, as salubrious, -every cheering propensity in her beloved friend, immediately disposed -herself to second it with the most obliging alacrity.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 312]</span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Delany, gratified by this apparent approvance, then started the -subject of the recent publication, with a glow of pleasure that, though -she uttered her favouring opinions with the most unaffected, the -chastest simplicity, made the “eloquent blood” rush at every flattering -sentence into her pale, soft, aged cheeks, as if her years had been as -juvenile as her ideas, and her kindness.</p> - -<p>Animated by the animation of her friend, the Duchess gaily increased -it by her own; and the warm-hearted Mrs. Chapone still augmented its -energy, by her benignant delight that she had brought such a scene to -bear for her young companion: while all three sportively united in -talking of the characters in the publication, as if speaking of persons -and incidents of their own peculiar knowledge.</p> - -<p>On the first pause upon a theme which, though unavoidably embarrassing, -could not, in hands of such noble courtesy, that knew how to make -flattery subservient to elegance, and praise to delicacy, be seriously -distressing; the deeply honoured, though confused object of so much -condescension, seized the vacant moment for starting the name of Mr. -Crisp.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 313]</span></p> - -<p>Nothing could better propitiate the introduction which Dr. Burney -desired for himself to the correspondent of Dean Swift, and the quondam -acquaintance of his early monitor, Mr. Crisp, than bringing this latter -upon the scene.</p> - -<p>The Duchess now took the lead in the discourse, and was charmed to hear -tidings of a former friend, who had been missed so long in the world as -to be thought lost. She inquired minutely into his actual way of life, -his health and his welfare; and whether he retained his fondness and -high taste for all the polite arts.</p> - -<p>To the Memorialist this was a topic to give a flow of spirits, that -spontaneously banished the reserve and silence with strangers of -which she stood generally accused: and her history of the patriarchal -attachment of Mr. Crisp to Dr. Burney, and its benevolent extension to -every part of his family, while it revived Mr. Crisp to the memories -and regard of the Duchess and of Mrs. Delany, stimulated their wishes -to know the man—Dr. Burney—who alone, of all the original connexions -of Mr. Crisp, had preserved such power over his affections, as to be a -welcome inmate to his almost hermetically closed retreat.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 314]</span></p> - -<p>And the account of Chesington Hall, its insulated and lonely position, -its dilapidated state, its nearly inaccessible roads, its quaint old -pictures, and straight long garden paths; was as curious and amusing -to Mrs. Chapone, who was spiritedly awake to whatever was romantic or -uncommon, as the description of the chief of the domain was interesting -to those who had known him when he was as eminently a man of the world, -as he was now become, singularly, the recluse of a village.</p> - -<p>Such was the basis of the intercourse that thenceforward took place -between Dr. Burney and the admirable Mrs. Delany; who was not, from her -feminine and elegant character, and her skill in the arts, more to the -taste of Dr. Burney, than he had the honour to be to her’s, from his -varied acquirements, and his unstrained readiness to bring them forth -in social meetings. While his daughter, who thus, by chance, was the -happy instrument of this junction, reaped from it a delight that was -soon exalted to even bosom felicity, from the indulgent partiality with -which that graceful pattern of olden times met, received, and cherished -the reverential attachment which she inspired; and which imperceptibly -graduated into a mutual, a trusting, a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 315]</span> - -sacred friendship; as soothing, -from his share in its formation, to her honoured Mr. Crisp, as it was -delighting to Dr. Burney from its seasonable mitigation of the loss, -the disappointment, the breaking up of Streatham.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MR. CRISP.</h2> - -<p>But though this gently cheering, and highly honourable connexion, -by its kindly operation, offered the first mental solace to that -portentous journey to Bath, which with a blight had opened the spring -of 1783; that blight was still unhealed in the excoriation of its -infliction, when a new incision of anguish, more deeply cutting still, -and more permanently incurable, pierced the heart of Dr. Burney by -tidings from Chesington, that Mr. Crisp was taken dangerously ill.</p> - -<p>The ravages of the gout, which had long laid waste the health, -strength, spirits, and life-enjoying nerves of this admirable man, now -extended their baleful devastations to the seats of existence, the head -and the breast; wavering occasionally in their work, with something of -less relentless rigour, but never abating in menace of fatality.</p> - -<p>Susanna,—now Mrs. Phillips,—was at Chesington - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 316]</span> - -at the time of the -seizure; and to her gentle bosom, and most reluctant pen, fell the -sorrowing task of announcing this quick-approaching calamity to Dr. -Burney, and all his house: and in the same unison that had been their -love, was now their grief. Sorrow, save at the dissolution of conjugal -or filial ties, could go no deeper. The Doctor would have abandoned -every call of business or interest,—for pleasure at such a period, -had no call to make! in order to embrace and to attend upon his long -dearest friend, if his Susanna had not dissuaded him from so mournful -an exertion, by representations of the uncertainty of finding even a -moment in which it might be safe to risk any agitation to the sufferer; -whose pains were so torturing, that he fervently and perpetually prayed -to heaven for the relief of death:—while the prayers for the dying -were read to him daily by his pious sister, Mrs. Gast.</p> - -<p>And only by the most urgent similar remonstrances, could the elder<a name="FNanchor_62" id="FNanchor_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a> -or the younger<a name="FNanchor_63" id="FNanchor_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a> -of the Doctor’s daughters be kept away; so -completely as a fond father was Mr. Crisp loved by all.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 317]</span></p> - -<p>But this Memorialist, to whom, for many preceding years, Mr. Crisp had -rendered Chesington a second, a tender, an always open, always inviting -home, was so wretched while withheld from seeking once more his sight -and his benediction, that Dr. Burney could not long oppose her wishes. -In some measure, indeed, he sent her as his own representative, by -entrusting to her a letter full of tender attachment and poignant -grief from himself; which he told her not to deliver, lest it should -be oppressive or too affecting; but to keep in hand, for reading more -or less of it to him herself, according to the strength, spirits, and -wishes of his dying friend.</p> - -<p>With this fondly-sad commission, she hastened to Chesington; where -she found her Susanna, and all the house, immersed in affliction: and -where, in about a week, she endured the heartfelt sorrow of witnessing -the departure of the first, the most invaluable, the dearest Friend -of her mourning Father; and the inestimable object of her own chosen -confidence, her deepest respect, and, from her earliest youth, almost -filial affection.</p> - -<p>She had the support, however, of the soul-soothing sympathy of -her Susanna; and the tender consolation of having read to him, by -intervals, nearly - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 318]</span> - -the whole of Dr. Barney’s touching Farewell! and of -having seen that her presence had been grateful to him, even in the -midst of his sufferings; and of inhaling the balmy kindness with which -his nearly final powers of utterance had called her “the dearest thing -to him on earth!”</p> - -<p>This wound, in its acuteness to Dr. Burney, was only less lacerating -than that which had bled from the stroke that had torn away from -him the early and adored partner of his heart. But the submissive -resignation and patient philosophy with which he bore it, will best -be exemplified by the following extract from a letter, written, on -this occasion, to his second daughter; whose quick feelings had—as -yet!—only once been strongly called forth; and that nearly in -childhood, on her maternal deprivation; who knew not, therefore, -enough of their force to be guarded against their invasion: and who, -in the depth of her grief, had shut herself up in mournful seclusion; -for,—blind to sickly foresight!—neither the age nor the infirmities -of Mr. Crisp had worked upon her as preparatory to his exit.</p> - -<p>His age, indeed, as it was unaccompanied by the smallest diminution of -his faculties, though he had reached his seventy-sixth year, offered no -mitigation - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 319]</span> - -to grief for his death; though a general one, undoubtedly, -to its shock. What we lament, is what we lose; what we lose, whether -young or old, is what we miss: it may justly, therefore, perhaps, be -affirmed, that youth and beauty, however more elegiacally they may be -sung, are only by the Lover and the Poet mourned over with stronger -regret than age and goodness.</p> - -<p>The animadversions upon the excess of sorrow to which this extract -may give rise, must not induce the Memorialist of Dr. Burney to spare -herself from their infliction, by withholding what she considers it her -bounden duty to produce, a document that strikingly displays his tender -parental kindness, his patient wisdom, and his governed sensibility.</p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<blockquote> -<p class="center smcap">“To Miss Burney.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>“ * * I am much more afflicted than surprised at the violence and -duration of your sorrow for the terrible scenes and events you have -witnessed at Chesington; and not only pity you, but participate in all -your feelings. Not an hour in the day has passed—as you will some -time or other find—since the fatal catastrophe, in which I have not -felt a pang for the irreparable loss I have sustained. However, as -something is due to the <em>living</em>—there is, perhaps, a boundary at -which it is right to <em>endeavour</em> to stop in lamenting the <em>dead</em>. It -is very difficult,—as - -<span class="pagenum-block">[Pg 320]</span> - -I have found!—to exceed that boundary -in our duty or attention, without its being at the expense of others. -I have experienced the loss of one so dear to me as to throw me into -the utmost affliction of despondency which can be suffered without -insanity. But I had claims on my life, my reason, and my activity, -which, joined to higher motives, drew me from the pit of despair, and -forced me, though with great difficulty, to rouse and exert every nerve -and faculty in answering them.</p> - -<p>“It has been very well said of mental wounds, that they must digest, -like those of the body, before they can be healed. The poultice of -necessity can alone, perhaps, in some cases, bring on this digestion; -but we should not impede it by caustics or corrosions. Let the wound be -open a due time—but not kept bare with violence.—</p> - -<p>“To quit all metaphor, we must, alas! try to diminish our sorrow for -one calamity to enable us to support another! A general peace gives but -time to refit for new war; a mental blow, or wound, is no more. So far, -however, am I from blaming your sorrow on the present occasion, that, -in fact, I both love and honour you for it;—and, therefore, will add -no more on that melancholy subject. With respect to the other,—&c. &c.</p> - -<p class="sig-right5">“* * *.”</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>It would be needless, it is hoped, to say that this mild and admirable -exhortation effected fully its benevolent purpose. With grateful -tears, and immediate compliance to his will, she hastened to his arms, -received his tenderest welcome, and, quitting her chamber seclusion, -again joined the family—if not with immediate cheerfulness, at least - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 321]</span> - -with composure: and again, upon his motion, and under his loved wing, -returned to the world; if not with inward gaiety, with outward, yet -true and unaffected gratitude for the kindness with which it received -her back again to its circles:—but Mr. Crisp was not less gone, nor -less internally lamented!</p> - -<p>What the Doctor intimates of the proofs she would one day find of the -continual occupation of his thoughts by his departed friend, alludes to -an elegy to which he was then devoting every instant he could snatch -from his innumerable engagements; and which, as a memorial of his -friendship, was soothing to his affliction. It opens with the following -lines.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 322]</span></p> - -<p class="center smcap">“Elegy on the Death of a Friend.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="smaller"> - <div class="verse indent2">“The guide and tutor of my early youth,</div> - <div class="verse">Whose word was wisdom, and whose wisdom, truth,</div> - <div class="verse">Whose cordial kindness, and whose active zeal</div> - <div class="verse">Full forty years I never ceas’d to feel;</div> - <div class="verse">The Friend to whose abode I eager stole</div> - <div class="verse">To pour each inward secret of my soul;</div> - <div class="verse">The dear companion of my leisure hours,</div> - <div class="verse">Whose cheerful looks, and intellectual powers,</div> - <div class="verse">Drove care, anxiety, and doubt away,</div> - <div class="verse">And all the fiends that on reflection prey,</div> - <div class="verse">Is now no more!—The features of that face</div> - <div class="verse">Where glow’d intelligence and manly grace;</div> - <div class="verse">Those eyes which flash’d with intellectual fire</div> - <div class="verse">Kindled by all that genius could inspire—</div> - <div class="verse">Those, those—and all his pleasing powers are fled</div> - <div class="verse">To the cold, squalid mansions of the dead!</div> - <div class="verse">This highly polished gem, which shone so bright,</div> - <div class="verse">Impervious now, eclips’d in viewless night</div> - <div class="verse">From earthly eye, irradiates no more</div> - <div class="verse">This nether sphere!”—</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - - -<p>What follows, though in the same strain of genuine grief and exalted -friendship, is but an amplification of these lines; and too diffuse -for any eyes but those to which the object of the panegyric had been -familiar; and which, from habitually seeing and studying that honoured -object, coveted, like Dr. Burney himself, to dwell, to linger upon its -excellencies with fond reminiscence.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Gast, the sister of Mr. Crisp, and Mrs. Catherine Cooke, his -residuary legatee, put up a monument to his memory in the little church -of Chesington, for which Dr. Burney wrote the following epitaph.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 323]</span></p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<div class="center"> -<span class="smcap smaller">To the Memory</span><br /> -<span class="smcap small">OF</span><br /> -SAMUEL CRISP, ESQ.,<br /> -<span class="small"><i>Who died April 24, 1783, aged 76</i></span>.<br /> -<span class="smaller">May Heaven—through our merciful <span class="smcap">Redeemer</span>—receive his soul!</span> -</div> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="smaller"> - <div class="verse indent2">Reader! This rude and humble spot contains</div> - <div class="verse">The much lamented, much revered remains</div> - <div class="verse">Of one whose learning, judgment, taste, and sense,</div> - <div class="verse">Good-humour’d wit, and mild benevolence</div> - <div class="verse">Charm’d and enlighten’d all the hamlet round,</div> - <div class="verse">Wherever genius, worth,—or want was found.</div> - <div class="verse indent2">To few it is that bounteous heaven imparts</div> - <div class="verse">Such depth of knowledge, and such taste in arts;</div> - <div class="verse">Such penetration, and enchanting powers</div> - <div class="verse">Of brightening social and convivial hours.</div> - <div class="verse">Had he, through life, been blest, by nature kind,</div> - <div class="verse">With health robust of body as of mind,</div> - <div class="verse">With skill to serve and charm mankind, so great</div> - <div class="verse">In arts, in science, letters, church, or state,</div> - <div class="verse">His fame the nation’s annals had enroll’d,</div> - <div class="verse">And virtues to remotest ages told.</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="sig-right5 smaller"><span class="smcap">C. Burney.</span></p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<p>And the following brief account of this event the Doctor sent, in the -ensuing May, to the newspapers.</p> - -<p>Last week died, at Chesington, in Surrey, whither he had long - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 324]</span> - -retired from the world, Samuel Crisp, Esq., aged 75, whose loss will -be for ever deplored by all those who were admitted into his retreat, -and had the happiness of enjoying his conversation; which was rendered -captivating by all that wit, learning, profound knowledge of mankind, -and a most exquisite taste in the fine arts, as well as in all that -embellishes human life, could furnish.</p> - -<p>And thus, from the portentous disappearance of Mrs. Thrale, with a -blight had opened this fatal spring; and thus, from the irreparable -loss of Mr. Crisp, with a blast it closed!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">HISTORY OF MUSIC.</h2> - -<p>Even to his History of Music the Doctor knew not, now, how to turn his -attention; Chesington had so constantly been the charm, as well as the -retreat for its pursuit, and Chesington and Mr. Crisp had seemed so -indissolubly one, that it was long ere the painful resolution could -be gathered of trying how to support what remained, when they were -sundered.</p> - -<p>Of the two most intimate of his musical friends after Mr. Crisp, Mr. -Twining of Colchester came less frequently than ever to town; and -Mr. Bewley of Massingham was too distant for any regularity of even - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 325]</span> - -annual meetings. And those friends still within his reach, in whom -he took the deepest interest, Dr. Johnson, Mr. Burke, and Sir Joshua -Reynolds, were too little conversant in music to be usefully sought -at this music-devoted period. They had neither taste nor care for -his art, and not the smallest knowledge upon its subject. Yet this, -though for the moment, nearly a misfortune, was not any impediment -to friendship on either side: Dr. Burney had too general a love of -literature, as well as of the arts, to limit his admiration, any more -than his acquirements, to his own particular cast; while the friends -just mentioned regarded his musical science but as a matter apart; and -esteemed and loved him solely for the qualities that he possessed in -common with themselves.</p> - -<p>Compelled was he, nevertheless, to endure the altered Chesington; -where, happily, however, then resided his tender Susanna; whose sight -was always a charm, and whose converse had a balm that enabled him -again to return to his work, though it had lost, for the present, -all voluntary influence over his spirits. But choice was out of the -question; he had a given engagement to fulfil; and there was no place -so sacred from intrusion as Chesington.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 326]</span></p> - -<p>Thither, therefore, he repaired; and there, in laborious study, he -remained, till the season for his professional toils called him again -to St. Martin’s-street.</p> - -<p>The first spur that urged his restoration to the world, and its ways, -was given through the lively and frequent inquiries made after him -and his history by sundry celebrated foreigners, German, Italian, and -French.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">BACH OF BERLIN.</h2> - -<p>Amongst his German correspondents, Dr. Burney ranked first the -super-eminent Emanuel Bach, commonly known by the appellation of Bach -of Berlin; whose erudite depths in the science, and exquisite taste in -the art of music, seemed emulously combatting one with the other for -precedence; so equal was what he owed to inspiration and to study.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney had the great satisfaction, publicly and usefully, to -demonstrate his admiration of this superior musician, by successfully -promoting both the knowledge and the sale of his works.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 327]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">HAYDN.</h2> - -<p>With the equally, and yet more popularly celebrated Haydn, Dr. Burney -was in correspondence many years before that noble and truly CREATIVE -composer visited England; and almost enthusiastic was the admiration -with which the musical historian opened upon the subject, and the -matchless merits, of that sublime genius, in the fourth volume of the -History of Music. “I am now,” he says, “happily arrived at that part of -my narrative where it is necessary to speak of HAYDN, the incomparable -HAYDN; from whose productions I have received more pleasure late in -life, when tired of most other music, than I ever enjoyed in the most -ignorant and rapturous part of my youth, when every thing was new, -and the disposition to be pleased was undiminished by criticism, or -satiety.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">EBELING.</h2> - -<p>The German correspondent to whom Dr. Burney was most indebted for -information, entertainment, and liberal friendship, was Mynhere -Ebeling, a native of Hamborough, who volunteered his services to - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 328]</span> - -the Doctor, by opening a correspondence in English, immediately upon -reading the first, or French and Italian tour, with a zeal full of -sprightliness and good-humour; solidly seconded by well understood -documents in aid of the Musical History.<a name="FNanchor_64" id="FNanchor_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">PADRE MARTINI.</h2> - -<p>Amongst the Italians, the most essential to his business was Padre -Martini; the most essential and the most generous. While the Doctor -was at Bologna, he was allowed free access to the rare library of that -learned Padre, with permission to examine his Istoria della Musica, -before it was published. And this favour was followed by a display -of the whole of the materials which the Padre had collected for his -elaborate undertaking: upon all which he conversed with a frankness -and liberality, that appeared to the Doctor to spring from a nature -so completely void of all earthly drops of envy, jealousy, or love of -pre-eminence, as to endow him with the nobleness of wishing that a -fellow-labourer in the same vineyard in which he was working himself, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 329]</span> - -should share the advantages of his toil, and reap in common its fruits.</p> - -<p>With similar openness the Doctor returned every communication; and -produced his own plan, of which he presented the Padre with a copy, -which that modest man of science most gratefully received; declaring -it to be not only edifying, but, in some points, surprisingly new. -They entered into a correspondence of equal interest to both, which -subsisted, to their mutual pleasure, credit, and advantage, through the -remnant life of the good old Padre; and which not unfrequently owed its -currency to the friendly intervention of the amiable, and, as far as -his leisure and means accorded with his native inclination, literary -Pacchierotti.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">METASTASIO.</h2> - -<p>With Metastasio, who in chaste pathos of sentimental eloquence, and -a purity of expression that seems to emanate from purity of feeling, -stands nearly unequalled, he assiduously maintained the intercourse -which he had happily begun with that laureate-poet at Vienna.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 330]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">M. BERQUIN.</h2> - -<p>Of the French correspondents, M. Berquin, the true though self-named -children’s friend, was foremost in bringing letters of strong -recommendation to the Doctor from Paris.</p> - -<p>M. Berquin warmly professed that the first inquiry he made upon his -entrance into London, was for the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Hôtel du Grand Newton</i>; where -he offered up incense to the owner, and to his second daughter, of -so overpowering a perfume, that it would have derogated completely -from the character of verity and simplicity that makes the charm of -his tales for juvenile pupils, had it not appeared, from passages -published in his works after his return to France, that he had really -wrought himself into feeling the enthusiasm that here had appeared -overstrained, unnatural, and almost, at least to the daughter, -burlesque. In an account of him, written at this time to her sister -Susanna, are these words:</p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<p class="center smcap">“To Mrs. Phillips.</p> - -<p class="pindent1">“We have a new man, now, almost always at the house, who has brought -letters to my father from some of his best French correspondents, M. -Berquin; - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 331]</span> - -author of the far most interesting lessons of moral conduct -for adolescence or for what Mr. Walpole would call the <em>betweenity</em> -time that intervals the boy or girl from the man or woman, that ever -sprang from a vivid imagination, under the strictest guidance of right -and reason. But to all this that is so proper, or rather, so excellent, -M. Berquin joins an exuberance of devotion towards <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">l’Hôtel du Grand -Newton</i>, and its present owner, and, above all, that owner’s second -bairne, that seems with difficulty held back from mounting into an -ecstacy really comic. He brought a set of his charming little volumes -with him, and begged my mother to present them to <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Mademoiselle -Beurnie</i>; with compliments upon the occasion too florid for writing -even, my Susan, to you. And though I was in the room the whole time, -quietly scollopping a muslin border, and making entreating signs to -my mother not to betray me, he never once suspected I might be the -demoiselle myself, because—I am much afraid!—he saw nothing about me -to answer to the splendour of his expectations! However, he has since -made the discovery, and had the gallantry to comport himself as if -he had made it—poor man!—without disappointment. Since then I have -begun some acquaintance with - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 332]</span> - -him; but his rapture every time I speak -is too great to be excited often! therefore, I am chary of my words. -You would laugh irresistibly to see how <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">enchanté</i> he deems it fit to -appear every time I open my mouth! holding up one hand aloft, as if in -sign to all others present to keep the peace! And yet, save for this -complimentary extravagance, his manners and appearance are the most -simple, candid, and unpretending.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Dr. Burney himself was seriously of opinion that all the superfluity -of civility here described, was the mere effervescence of a romantic -imagination; not of artifice, or studied adulation.<a name="FNanchor_65" id="FNanchor_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MM. LES COMTES DE LA ROCHEFAUCAULT.</h2> - -<p>Messieurs les Comtes de la Rochefaucault, sons of the Duc de Liancourt, -when quite youths, were brought, at the desire of their father, to a -morning visit in St. Martin’s-street, with their English tutor, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 333]</span> - -Mr. Symonds, by Arthur Young; to whose superintending care and -friendship they had been committed, for the study of agriculture -according to the English mode.</p> - -<p>The Duke had a passion for farming, for England, for improvement; and -above all, for liberty,—which was then rising in glowing ferment in -his nation; with little consciousness, and no foresight, of the bloody -scenes in which it was to set!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">THE DUC DE LIANCOURT.</h2> - -<p>The Duc de Liancourt himself, not long afterwards, came over to -England, and, through the medium of Mr. Young, addressed letters of the -most flattering politeness to Dr. Burney; soliciting his acquaintance, -and, through his influence, an interview with <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Mademoiselle Berney</i>. -The latter, however, had so invincible a repugnance to being singled -out with such undue distinction by strangers, that she prevailed, -though with much difficulty, upon her father, to consent to her -non-appearance when this visit took place. The Duke was too well -bred not to pardon, though, no doubt, he more than marvelled at this -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">mauvaise honte Anglaise</i>.</p> - -<p>He made his visit, however, very agreeable to the Doctor, who found - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 334]</span> - -him of lofty manners, person, and demeanour; of liberal and enlightened -sentiments and opinions; and ardent to acquire new, but practical -notions of national liberty; with the noble intention of propagating -them amongst his countrymen: an intention which the turbulent humour -of the times warpt and perverted into results the most opposed to his -genuine views and wishes.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">BRISSOT DE WARVILLE.</h2> - -<p>Brissot de Warville had begun an acquaintance with Dr. Burney upon -meeting with him at the apartment of the famous Linguet, during the -residence in England of that eloquent, powerful, unfortunate victim of -parts too strong for his judgment, and of impulses too imperious for -his safety.</p> - -<p>At this time, 1783, Brissot de Warville announced himself as a member -of a French committee employed to select subjects in foreign countries, -for adding to the national stock of worthies of his own soil, who were -destined to immortality, by having their portraits, busts, or statues, -elevated in the Paris Pantheon. And, as such, he addressed a letter to -Dr. Burney. He had been directed, he said, to choose, in England, a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 335]</span> - -female for this high honour; and he wrote to Dr. Burney to say, that -the gentlewoman upon whom it had pleased him to fix—was no other than -a daughter of the Doctor’s!<a name="FNanchor_66" id="FNanchor_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a></p> - -<p>At that astonished daughter’s earnest supplication, the Doctor, with -proper acknowledgments, declined accepting this towering compliment.</p> - -<p>M. Brissot employed his highest pains of flattery to conquer this -repugnance; but head, heart, and taste were in opposition to his -pleadings, and he had no chance of success.</p> - -<p>Speedily after, M. Brissot earnestly besought permission to introduce -to <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">l’Hôtel du Grand Newton</i> his newly-married wife; and a day was -appointed on which he brought thither his blooming young bride, who -had been English Reader, he said, to her Serene Highness Mademoiselle -d’Orleans,<a name="FNanchor_67" id="FNanchor_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a> -under the auspices of the celebrated Comtesse de -Genlis.<a name="FNanchor_68" id="FNanchor_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a></p> - -<p>Madame Brissot was pretty, and gentle, and had a striking air of -youthful innocence. They seemed to live together in tender amity, -perfectly satisfied - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 336]</span> - -in following literary pursuits. But it has since appeared that Brissot -was here upon some deep political projects, of which he afterwards -extended the practice to America. He had by no means, at that time, -assumed the dogmatizing dialect, or betrayed the revolutionary -principles, which, afterwards, contributed to hurl the monarchy, the -religion, and the happiness of France into that murderous abyss of -anarchy into which, ill-foreseen! he was himself amongst the earliest -to be precipitated.</p> - -<p>This single visit began and ended the Brissot commerce with St. -Martin’s-street. M. Brissot had a certain low-bred fullness and -forwardness of look, even in the midst of professions of humility and -respect, that were by no means attractive to Dr. Burney; by whom this -latent demagogue, who made sundry attempts to enter into a bookish -intimacy in St. Martin’s-street, was so completely shirked, that -nothing more was there seen or known of him, till his jacobinical -harangues and proceedings, five years later, were blazoned to the world -by the republican gazettes.</p> - -<p>What became of his pretty wife in aftertimes; whether she were involved -in his destruction, or sunk his name to save her life, has not been - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 337]</span> - -recorded. Dr. Burney heard of her no more; and always regretted that -he had been deluded into shewing even the smallest token of hospitality -to her intriguing husband: yet great was his thankfulness, that the -delusion had not been of such strength, as to induce him to enrol -a representation of his daughter in a selection made by a man of -principles and conduct so opposite to his own; however, individually, -the collection might have been as flattering to his parental pride, -as her undue entrance into such a circle would have been painfully -ostentatious to the insufficient and unambitious object of M. Brissot’s -choice.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">LE DUC DE CHAULNES.</h2> - -<p>Of the Duc de Chaulnes, the following account is copied from Dr. -Burney’s memorandums:—</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>“In 1783, I dined at the Adelphi with Dr. Johnson and the Duc de -Chaulnes. This extraordinary personage, a great traveller, and curious -inquirer into the productions of art and of nature, had recently been -to China; and, amongst many other discoveries that he had made in that -immense and remote region, of which he had brought specimens to Europe, -being a great chemist, he had particularly applied himself to the -disclosure of the means by which the Chinese obtain that extraordinary - -<span class="pagenum-block">[Pg 338]</span> - -brilliancy and permanence in the prismatic colours, which is so much -admired and envied by other nations.</p> - -<p>“I knew nothing of his being in England till, late one night, I heard -a bustle and different voices in the passage, or little hall, in my -house in St. Martin’s-street, commonly, from its former great owner, -called Newton House; when, on inquiry, I was informed that there was a -foreign gentleman, with a guide and an interpreter, who was come to beg -permission to see the observatory of the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">grand</i> Newton.</p> - -<p>“I went out of the parlour to speak to this stranger, and to invite -him in. He accepted the offer with readiness, and I promised to shew -him the observatory the next morning; and we soon became so well -acquainted, that, two or three days afterwards, he honoured me with -the following note in English; which I shall copy literally, for its -foreign originality.</p> - -<p>“‘The Duke of Chaulnes’ best compliments to Doctor Burney: he desires -the favour of his company to dinner with Doctor Johnson on Sunday next, -between about three and four o’clock, which is the hour convenient to -the excellent old Doctor, the best piece of man, indeed, that the Duke -ever saw.’”</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>This dinner took place, but was only productive of disappointment; Dr. -Johnson, unfortunately, was in a state of bodily uneasiness and pain -that unfitted him for exertion; and well as his mind was disposed to -do honour to the civilities of a distinguished foreigner, his physical -force refused consent to his efforts. The Duke, however, was too -enlightened and too rational a man, to permit this failure of his - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 339]</span> - -expectations to interfere with his previously formed belief in the -genius and powers of Dr. Johnson, when they were unshackled by disease.</p> - -<p>Another note in English, which much amused Dr. Burney, was written by -the Duke in answer to an invitation to St. Martin’s-street.</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>“The Duke of Chaulnes’ best compliments to Doctor Burney. He shall -certainly do himself the honour of waiting on him on Thursday evening -at the English hour of tea. He begs him a thousand pardons for the -delay of his answer, but he was himself waiting another answer which he -was depending of.”</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>Dr. Burney received the Duke in his study, which the Duke entered with -reverence, from a knowledge that he was treading boards that had been -trodden by the great Newton. He then developed at full length his -Chinese researches, discoveries, and opinions: after which, and having -examined and discoursed upon the Doctor’s library, he made an earnest -request to be brought to the acquaintance of <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Mademoiselle Beurni</i>.</p> - -<p>The Doctor, who was never averse to what he thought expressive of -approbation, with quite as much pleasure, and almost as much eagerness -as the Duke, ushered his noble guest to the family tea-table; where - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 340]</span> - -an introduction took place, so pompous on the part of the Duke, and so -embarrassed on that of its receiver, that finding, when it was over, -she simply bowed, and turned about to make the tea, without attempting -any conversational reply, he conceived that his eloquent <i>éloge</i> had -not been understood; and, after a little general talk with Mr. Hoole -and his son, who were of the evening party, he approached her again, -with a grave desire to the Doctor of a second presentation.</p> - -<p>This, though unavoidably granted, produced nothing more brilliant to -satisfy his expectations; which then, in all probability, were changed -into pity, if not contempt, at so egregious a mark of that uncouth -malady of which her country stands arraigned, bashful shyness.<a name="FNanchor_69" id="FNanchor_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">BARRY.</h2> - -<p>Amongst the many cotemporary tributes paid to the merits of Dr. Burney, -there was one from a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 341]</span> - -celebrated and estimable artist, that caused no small diversion to -the friends of the Doctor; and, perhaps, to the public at large; from -the Hibernian tale which it seemed instinctively to unfold of the -birth-place of its designer.</p> - -<p>The famous painter, Mr. Barry, after a formal declaration that his -picture of The Triumph of the Thames, which was painted for the Society -of Arts, should be devoted exclusively to immortalizing the eminent -dead, placed, in the watery groupes of the renowned departed, Dr. -Burney, then full of life and vigour.</p> - -<p>This whimsical incident produced from the still playful imagination -of Mr. Owen Cambridge the following <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">jeu d’esprit</i>; to which he was -incited by an accident that had just occurred to the celebrated Gibbon; -who, in stepping too lightly from, or to a boat of Mr. Cambridge’s, -had slipt into the Thames; whence, however, he was intrepidly and -immediately rescued, with no other mischief than a wet jacket, by one -of that fearless, water-proof race, denominated, by Mr. Gibbon, the -amphibious family of the Cambridges.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 342]</span></p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<p class="center smaller">“When Chloe’s picture was to Venus shown,” &c. </p> - -<p class="sig-right5 smcap">Prior.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="smaller"> - <div class="verse-first-line">“When Burney’s picture was to Gibbon shown,</div> - <div class="verse">The pleased historian took it for his own;</div> - <div class="verse">‘For who, with shoulders dry, and powder’d locks,</div> - <div class="verse">E’er bath’d but I?’ He said, and rapt his box.</div> - <div class="verse indent2">“Barry replied, ‘My lasting colours show</div> - <div class="verse">What gifts the painter’s pencil can bestow;</div> - <div class="verse">With nymphs of Thames, those amiable creatures,</div> - <div class="verse">I placed the charming minstrel’s smiling features:</div> - <div class="verse">But let not, then, his <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">bonne fortune</i> concern ye,</div> - <div class="verse">For there are nymphs enough for you—and Burney.’”</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">DR. JOHNSON.</h2> - -<p>But all that Dr. Burney possessed, either of spirited resistance or -acquiescent submission to misfortune, was again to be severely tried -in the summer that followed the spring of this unkindly year; for the -health of his venerated Dr. Johnson received a blow from which it never -wholly recovered; though frequent rays of hope intervened from danger -to danger; and though more than a year and a half were still allowed to -his honoured existence upon earth.</p> - -<p>Mr. Seward first brought to Dr. Burney the alarming tidings, that this -great and good man had been afflicted by a paralytic stroke. The - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 343]</span> - -Doctor hastened to Bolt Court, taking with him this Memorialist, who -had frequently and urgently been desired by Dr. Johnson himself, during -the time that they lived so much together at Streatham, to see him -often if he should be ill. But he was surrounded by medical people, and -could only admit the Doctor. He sent down, nevertheless, the kindest -message of thanks to the truly-sorrowing daughter, for calling upon -him; and a request that, “when he should be better, she would come to -him again and again.”</p> - -<p>From Mrs. Williams, with whom she remained, she then received the -comfort of an assurance that the physicians had pronounced him not to -be in danger; and even that they expected the illness would be speedily -overcome. The stroke had been confined to the tongue.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Williams related a very touching circumstance that had attended -the attack. It had happened about four o’clock in the morning, when, -though she knew not how, he had been sensible to the seizure of a -paralytic affection. He arose, and composed, in his mind, a prayer -in Latin to the Almighty, That however acute might be the pains for - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 344]</span> - -which he must befit himself, it would please him, through the grace and -mediation of our Saviour, to spare his intellects, and to let all his -sufferings fall upon his body.</p> - -<p>When he had internally conceived this petition, he endeavoured to -pronounce it, according to his pious practice, aloud—but his voice was -gone!—He was greatly struck, though humbly and resignedly. It was not, -however, long, before it returned; but at first with very imperfect -articulation.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney, with the zeal of true affection, made time unceasingly -for inquiring visits: and no sooner was the invalid restored to the -power of reinstating himself in his drawing-room, than the Memorialist -received from him a summons, which she obeyed the following morning.</p> - -<p>She was welcomed with the kindest pleasure; though it was with -difficulty that he endeavoured to rise, and to mark, with wide extended -arms, his cordial gladness at her sight; and he was forced to lean back -against the wainscot as impressively he uttered, “Ah!—dearest of all -dear ladies!—”</p> - -<p>He soon, however, recovered more strength, and assumed the force to -conduct her himself, and with no small ceremony, to his best chair.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 345]</span></p> - -<p>“Can you forgive me, Sir,” she cried, when she saw that he had not -breakfasted, “for coming so soon?”</p> - -<p>“I can less forgive your not coming sooner!” he answered, with a smile.</p> - -<p>She asked whether she might make his tea, which she had not done since -they had left poor Streatham; where it had been her constant and -gratifying business to give him that regale, Miss Thrale being yet too -young for the office.</p> - -<p>He readily, and with pleasure consented.</p> - -<p>“But, Sir,” quoth she, “I am in the wrong chair.” For it was on his own -sick large arm chair, which was too heavy for her to move, that he had -formally seated her; and it was away from the table.</p> - -<p>“It is so difficult,” cried he, with quickness, “for any thing to be -wrong that belongs to you, that it can only be I that am in the wrong -chair to keep you from the right one!”</p> - -<p>This playful good-humour was so reviving in shewing his recovery, that -though Dr. Burney could not remain above ten minutes, his daughter, -for whom he sent back his carriage, could with difficulty retire at -the end of two hours. Dr. Johnson endeavoured most earnestly to engage -her to stay and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 346]</span> - -dine with him and Mrs. Williams; but that was not in -her power; though so kindly was his heart opened by her true joy at -his re-establishment, that he parted from her with a reluctance that -was even, and to both, painful. Warm in its affections was the heart -of this great and good man; his temper alone was in fault where it -appeared to be otherwise.</p> - -<p>When his recovery was confirmed, he accepted some few of the many -invitations that were made to him, by various friends, to try at -their dwellings, the air of the country. Dr. Burney mentioned to him, -one evening, that he had heard that the first of these essays was to -be made at the house of Mr. Bowles; and the Memorialist added, that -she was extremely glad of that news, because, though she knew not -Mr. Bowles, she had been informed that he had a true sense of this -distinction, and was delighted by it beyond measure.</p> - -<p>“He is so delighted,” said the Doctor, gravely, and almost with a sigh, -“that it is really—shocking!”</p> - -<p>“And why so, Sir?”</p> - -<p>“Why?” he repeated, “because, necessarily, he must be disappointed! For -if a man be expected - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 347]</span> - -to leap twenty yards, and should really leap ten, -which would be so many more than ever were leapt before, still they -would not be twenty; and consequently, Mr. Bowles, and Mr. every body -else would be disappointed.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MR. BEWLEY.</h2> - -<p>The grievous blight by the loss of Mrs. Thrale; and the irreparable -blast by the death of Mr. Crisp, in the spring of 1783; followed, in -the ensuing summer, by this alarming shake to the constitution and -strength of Dr. Johnson; were now to be succeeded, in this same unhappy -year, by a fearful and calamitous event, that made the falling leaves -of its autumn corrosively sepulchral to Dr. Burney.</p> - -<p>His erudite, witty, scientific, and truly dear friend, Mr. Bewley of -Massingham, though now in the wane of life, had never visited the -metropolis, except to pass through it upon business; his narrow income, -and confined country practice, having hitherto stood in the way of -such an excursion. Yet he had long desired to make the journey, not -only for seeing the capital, its curiosities, its men of letters, and -his own most highly prized friend, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 348]</span> - -Dr. Burney, but, also, for calling -a consultation amongst the wisest of his brethren of the Æsculapian -tribe, upon the subject of his own health, which was now in a state of -alarming deterioration.</p> - -<p>Continual letters, upon the lighter and pleasanter part of this -project, passed between Massingham and St. Martin’s-street, in -preparatory schemes on one side, and hurrying persuasion on the -other, before it could take place; though it was never-ceasingly -the goal at which the hopes and wishes of Mr. Bewley aimed, when -he permitted them to turn their course from business or science: -but now, suddenly, an occult disease, which for many years had been -preying upon the constitution of the too patient philosopher, began -more roughly to ravage his debilitating frame: and the excess of his -pains, with whatever fortitude they were borne, forced him from his -Stoic endurance, by dismembering it, through bodily torture, from the -palliations of intellectual occupation.</p> - -<p>Irresolution, therefore, was over; and he hastily prepared to quit -his resident village, and consult personally with two surgeons and -two physicians of eminence, Messrs. Hunter and Potts, and Doctors -Warren and John Jebb, with whom he had long - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 349]</span> - -been incidentally and -professionally in correspondence.</p> - -<p>There is, probably, no disease, save of that malignantly fatal nature -that joins, at once, the malady with the grave, that may not, for a -while, be parried, or, at least, diverted from its strait-forward -progress, by the indefinable power of those inward impellers of the -human machine, called the animal spirits; for no sooner was the invalid -decided upon this long-delayed journey, than a wish occurred to soften -off its vital solemnity, by rendering it mental and amical, as well -as medicinal: and from this wish emanated a glow of courage, that -enabled him to baffle his infirmities, and to begin his excursion by a -tour to Birmingham; where he had long promised a visit to a renowned -fellow-labourer in the walks of science, Dr. Priestley. And this he -accomplished, though with not more satisfaction than difficulty.</p> - -<p>From the high gratification of this expedition, he proceeded to one -warmer, kindlier, and closer still to his breast, for he came on to -his first favourite upon earth, Dr. Burney; with whom he spent about -a week, under an influence of congenial feelings, and enlivening -pursuits, that charmed away pains that had seemed insupportable, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 350]</span> - -through the magic control of a delighted imagination, and an expanded -heart.</p> - -<p>His eagerness, from the vigour of his fancy, was yet young, -notwithstanding his years, for every thing that was new to him, and, -of its sort, ingenious. Dr. Burney accompanied him in taking a general -view of the most celebrated literary and scientific institutions, -buildings, and public places; and presented him to the Duke de -Chaulnes, with whom a whole morning was spent in viewing specimens -of Chinese arts and discoveries. And they passed several hours in -examining the extensive paintings of Barry, which that extraordinary -artist elucidated to them himself: while every evening was devoted to -studying and hearing favourite old musical composers of Mr. Bewley; -or favourite new ones of Dr. Burney, now first brought forward to his -friend’s enraptured ears.</p> - -<p>But that which most flattered, and exhilarated the Massingham -philosopher, was an interview accorded to him by Dr. Johnson; to whom -he was presented as the humble, but devoted preserver of the bristly -tuft of the Bolt Court Hearth-Broom.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 351]</span></p> - -<p>He then left St. Martin’s-street, to visit Mr. Griffith, Editor of the -Monthly Review, who received him at Turnham Green.</p> - -<p>Here, from the flitting and stimulating, though willing hurries of -pleasure, he meant to dedicate a short space to repose.——But repose, -here, was to be his no more! The visionary illusions of a fevered -imagination, and the eclât of novelty to all his sensations, were -passed away; and sober, severe reality, with all the acute pangs of -latent, but excruciating disease, resumed, unbridled, their sway. He -grew suddenly altered, and radically worse; and abruptly came back, -thus fatally changed, to St. Martin’s-street; where Dr. Burney, who had -returned to his work at Chesington, was recalled by an express to join -him; and where the long procrastinated consultation at length was held.</p> - -<p>But nor Hunter, nor Potts, nor Warren, nor Jebb could cure, could -even alleviate pains, of which they could not discern the source, -nor ascertain the cause. Nevertheless, from commiseration for his -sufferings, respect to his genius, and admiration of his patience, -they all attended him with as much zeal and assiduity as if they had -grasped at every fee which, generously, they declined: though they had - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 352]</span> - -the mortification to observe that they were applied to so tardily, -and that so desperate was the case, that they seemed hut summoned to -acknowledge it to be beyond their reach, and to prognosticate its -quick-approaching fatality. And, a very short time afterwards, Dr. -Burney had the deep disappointment of finding all his joy at this so -long desired meeting, reversed into the heartfelt affliction of seeing -this valued friend expire under his roof!</p> - -<p>Mrs. Bewley, the excellent wife of this man of science, philosophy, and -virtue, was fortunately, however unhappily, the companion of his tour; -and his constant and affectionate nurse to his last moment.</p> - -<p>It was afterwards known, that his pains, and their incurability, were -produced by an occult and dreadful cancer.</p> - -<p>He was buried in St. Martin’s church.</p> - -<p>The following account of him was written for the Norwich newspaper by -Dr. Burney.</p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="sig-right5">“<i>September 15, 1783.</i></p> - -<p>“On Friday last died, at the house of his friend, Dr. Burney, in St. -Martin’s-street, where he had been on a visit, Mr. William Bewley, of -Massingham, in Norfolk; whose death will be sincerely lamented by all -men of science, to whom his great abilities, particularly in anatomy, - -<span class="pagenum-block">[Pg 353]</span> - -electricity, and chemistry, had penetrated through the obscurity of -his abode, and the natural modesty and diffidence of his disposition. -Indeed, the depth and extent of his knowledge on every useful branch of -science and literature, could only be equalled by the goodness of his -heart, simplicity of his character, and innocency of his life; seasoned -with a natural, unsought wit and humour, of a cast the most original, -pleasant, and inoffensive.</p> - -<p>“Hobbes, in the last century, whose chief writings were levelled -against the religion of his country, was called, from the place of his -residence, the Philosopher of Malmsbury; but with how much more truth -and propriety has Mr. Bewley, whose life was spent in the laborious -search of the most hidden and useful discoveries in art and nature, -in exposing sophistry, and displaying talents, been distinguished in -Norfolk by the respectable title of the Philosopher of Massingham.”<a name="FNanchor_70" id="FNanchor_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a></p> -</blockquote> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">HISTORY OF MUSIC.</h2> - -<p>After this harrowing loss, Dr. Burney again returned to melancholy -Chesington; but—still its inmate—to his soothingly reviving Susanna.</p> - -<p>These two admirable and bosom friends, the one of early youth, the -other of early manhood, Mr. Crisp and Mr. Bewley, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 354]</span> - -both thus gone; both, in the same year, departed; -Mr. Twining only now, for the union of musical with mental friendship, -remained: but Mr. Twining, though capable to exhilarate as well -as console almost every evil—except his own absence, was utterly -unattainable, save during the few weeks of his short annual visit to -London; or the few days of the Doctor’s yet shorter visits to the -vicarage of Fordham.</p> - -<p>Alone, therefore, and unassisted, except by the slow mode of -correspondence, Dr. Burney prosecuted his work. This labour, -nevertheless, however fatiguing to his nerves, and harassing to his -health, upon missing the triple participation that had lightened his -toil, gradually became, what literary pursuits will ever become to -minds capable of their development, when not clogged by the heavy -weight of recent grief; first a check to morbid sadness, next a -renovator of wearied faculties, and lastly, through their oblivious -influence over all objects foreign to their purposes, a source of -enjoyment.</p> - -<p>To this occupation he owed the re-invigoration of courage that, -ere long, was followed by a return to the native temperature of -tranquillity, that had early and intuitively taught him not to sully - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 355]</span> - -what yet he possessed of happiness, by inconsolably bemoaning what was -withdrawn! and he resolved, in aid at once of his spirits and of his -work, to cultivate more assiduously than ever his connexions with Dr. -Johnson, Mr. Burke, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and Mrs. Delany.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">DR. JOHNSON.</h2> - -<p>When at the end, therefore, of the ensuing autumn, he re-entered Newton -House, his first voluntary egress thence was to Bolt Court; where -he had the heartfelt satisfaction of finding Dr. Johnson recovered -from his paralytic stroke, and not more than usually afflicted by his -other complaints; for free from complaint Dr. Burney had never had the -happiness to know that long and illustrious sufferer; whose pains and -infirmities, however, seemed rather to strengthen than to deaden his -urbanity towards Dr. Burney and this Memorialist.</p> - -<p>It had happened, through vexatious circumstances, after the return from -Chesington, that Dr. Burney, in his visits to Bolt Court, had not been -able to take thither his daughter; nor yet to spare her his carriage -for a separate inquiry; and incessant bad weather had made walking - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 356]</span> - -impracticable. After a week or two of this omission, Dr. Johnson, in a -letter to Dr. Burney, enclosed the following billet.</p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<p class="center smcap">“To Miss Burney.</p> - -<p class="pindent2">“Madam,</p> - -<p>“You have now been at home this long time, and yet I have neither seen -nor heard from you. Have we quarrelled?</p> - -<p>“I have met with a volume of the Philosophical Transactions, which I -imagine to belong to Dr. Burney. Miss Charlotte<a name="FNanchor_71" id="FNanchor_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a> will please to -examine.</p> - -<p>“Pray send me a direction where Mrs. Chapone lives; and pray, some -time, let me have the honour of telling you how much I am, Madam, your -most humble servant,</p> - -<p class="sig-right5">“SAM. JOHNSON.”</p> - -<p class="sig-left2">“<i>Bolt Court, Nov. 19, 1783.</i>”</p> - -<p>Inexpressibly shocked to have hurt or displeased her honoured friend, -yet conscious from all within of unalterable and affectionate -reverence, she took - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 357]</span> - -courage to answer him without offering any serious defence.</p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<p class="center smcap">“To Dr. Johnson.</p> - -<p class="pindent2">“Dear Sir,</p> - -<p>“May I not say dear?—for quarrelled I am sure we have not. The bad -weather alone has kept me from waiting upon you: but now, that you have -condescended to give me a summons, no ‘Lion shall stand in the way’ of -my making your tea this afternoon—unless I receive a prohibition from -yourself, and then—I must submit! for what, as you said of a certain -great lady,<a name="FNanchor_72" id="FNanchor_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a> -signifies the barking of a lap-dog, if once the lion -puts out his paw?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 358]</span></p> - -<p>“The book was right.</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Chapone lives in Dean-street, Soho.</p> - -<p>“I beg you, Sir, to forgive a delay for which I can ‘tax the elements -only with unkindness,’ and to receive with your usual goodness and -indulgence,</p> - -<p class="center">“Your ever most obliged,</p> -<p class="sig-right30">“And most faithful humble servant,</p> -<p class="sig-right30">“F. BURNEY.”</p> -<p class="sig-left2">“<i>19th Nov. 1783, St. Martin’s-Street.</i>”</p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<p>A latent, but most potent reason, had, in fact, some share in abetting -the elements in the failure of the Memorialist of paying her respects -in Bolt Court at this period; except when attending thither her father. -Dr. Burney feared her seeing Dr. Johnson alone; dreading, for both -their sakes, the subject to which the Doctor might revert, if they -should chance to be <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête à tête</i>. Hitherto, in the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 359]</span> - -many meetings of the two Doctors and herself that had taken place after -the paralytic stroke of Dr. Johnson, as well as during the many that -had more immediately followed the retreat of Mrs. Thrale to Bath, the -name of that lady had never once been mentioned by any of the three.</p> - -<p>Not from difference of opinion was the silence; it was rather from -a painful certainty that their opinions must be in unison, and, -consequently, that in unison must be their regrets. Each of them, -therefore, having so warmly esteemed one whom each of them, now, so -afflictingly blamed, they tacitly concurred that, for the immediate -moment, to cast a veil over her name, actions, and remembrance, seemed -what was most respectful to their past feelings, and to her present -situation.</p> - -<p>But, after the impressive reproach of Dr. Johnson to the Memorialist -relative to her absence; and after a seizure which caused a constant -anxiety for his health, she could no longer consult her discretion -at the expense of her regard; and, upon ceasing to observe her -precautions, she was unavoidably left with him, one morning, by Dr. -Burney, who had indispensable business further on in the city, and was -to call for her on his return.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 360]</span></p> - -<p>Nothing yet had publicly transpired, with certainty or authority, -relative to the projects of Mrs. Thrale, who had now been nearly a -year at Bath; though nothing was left unreported, or unasserted, with -respect to her proceedings. Nevertheless, how far Dr. Johnson was -himself informed, or was ignorant on the subject, neither Dr. Burney -nor his daughter could tell; and each equally feared to learn.</p> - -<p>Scarcely an instant, however, was the latter left alone in Bolt Court, -ere she saw the justice of her long apprehensions; for while she -planned speaking upon some topic that might have a chance to catch the -attention of the Doctor, a sudden change from kind tranquillity to -strong austerity took place in his altered countenance; and, startled -and affrighted, she held her peace.</p> - -<p>A silence almost awful succeeded, though, previously to Dr. Burney’s -absence, the gayest discourse had been reciprocated.</p> - -<p>The Doctor, then, see-sawing violently in his chair, as usual when -he was big with any powerful emotion whether of pleasure or of pain, -seemed deeply moved; but without looking at her, or speaking, he -intently fixed his eyes upon the fire: while his - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 361]</span> - -panic-struck visitor, -filled with dismay at the storm which she saw gathering; over the -character and conduct of one still dear to her very heart, from the -furrowed front, the laborious heaving of the ponderous chest, and the -roll of the large, penetrating, wrathful eye of her honoured, but, -just then, terrific host, sate mute, motionless, and sad; tremblingly -awaiting a mentally demolishing thunderbolt.</p> - -<p>Thus passed a few minutes, in which she scarcely dared breathe; while -the respiration of the Doctor, on the contrary, was of asthmatic force -and loudness; then, suddenly turning to her, with an air of mingled -wrath and woe, he hoarsely ejaculated: “Piozzi!”</p> - -<p>He evidently meant to say more; but the effort with which he -articulated that name robbed him of any voice for amplification, and -his whole frame grew tremulously convulsed.</p> - -<p>His guest, appalled, could not speak; but he soon discerned that it was -grief from coincidence, not distrust from opposition of sentiment, that -caused her taciturnity.</p> - -<p>This perception calmed him, and he then exhibited a face “in sorrow -more than anger.” His see-sawing abated of its velocity, and, again -fixing - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 362]</span> - -his looks upon the fire, he fell into pensive rumination.</p> - -<p>From time to time, nevertheless, he impressively glanced upon her his -full fraught eye, that told, had its expression been developed, whole -volumes of his regret, his disappointment, his astonished indignancy: -but, now and then, it also spoke so clearly and so kindly, that he -found her sight and her stay soothing to his disturbance, that she felt -as if confidentially communing with him, although they exchanged not a -word.</p> - -<p>At length, and with great agitation, he broke forthwith: “She cares -for no one! You, only—You, she loves still!—but no one—and nothing -else!—You she still loves—”</p> - -<p>A half smile now, though of no very gay character, softened a -little the severity of his features, while he tried to resume some -cheerfulness in adding: “As .... she loves her little finger!”</p> - -<p>It was plain by this burlesque, or, perhaps, playfully literal -comparison, that he meant now, and tried, to dissipate the solemnity of -his concern.</p> - -<p>The hint was taken; his guest started another subject; and this he -resumed no more. He saw how distressing was the theme to a hearer whom - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 363]</span> - -he ever wished to please, not distress; and he named Mrs. Thrale no -more! Common topics took place, till they were rejoined by Dr. Burney, -whom then, and indeed always, he likewise spared upon this subject.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Very ill again Dr. Johnson grew on the approach of winter; and with -equal fear and affection, both father and daughter sought him as often -as it was in their power; though by no means as frequently as their -zealous attachment, or as his own kind wishes might have prompted. -But fullness of affairs, and the distance of his dwelling, impeded -such continual intercourse as their mutual regard would otherwise have -instigated.</p> - -<p>This new failure of health was accompanied by a sorrowing depression of -spirits; though unmixt with the smallest deterioration of intellect.</p> - -<p>One evening,—the last but one of the sad year 1783,—when Dr. Burney -and the Memorialist were with him, and some other not remembered -visitors, he took an opportunity during a general discourse in which -he did not join, to turn suddenly to the ever-favoured daughter, and, -fervently grasping her hand, to say: “The blister I have tried for - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 364]</span> - -my breath has betrayed some very bad tokens!—but I will not terrify -myself by talking of them.—Ah!—<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">priez Dieu pour moi!</i>”</p> - -<p>Her promise was as solemn as it was sorrowful; but more humble, if -possible, than either. That such a man should condescend to make her -such a request, amazed, and almost bewildered her: yet, to a mind so -devout as that of Dr. Johnson, prayer, even from the most lowly, never -seemed presumptuous; and even—where he believed in its sincerity, -soothed him—for a passing moment—with an idea that it might be -propitious.</p> - -<p>This was the only instance in which Dr. Johnson ever addressed her in -French. He did not wish so serious an injunction to reach other ears -than her own.</p> - -<p>But those who imagine that the fear of death, which, at this period, -was the prominent feature of the mind of Dr. Johnson; and which excited -not more commiseration than wonder in the observers and commentators -of the day; was the effect of conscious criminality; or produced by a -latent belief that he had sinned more than his fellow sinners, knew -not Dr. Johnson! He thought not ill of himself as compared with his -human brethren: but he weighed, in the rigid scales of his calculating - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 365]</span> - -justice, the great talent which he had received, against the uses of -it which he had made — —</p> - -<p>And found himself wanting!</p> - -<p>Could it be otherwise, to one who had a conscience poignantly alive -to a sense of duty, and religiously submissive to the awards of -retributive responsibility?</p> - -<p>If those, therefore, who ignorantly have marvelled, or who maliciously -would triumph at the terror of death in the pious, would sincerely -and severely bow down to a similar self-examination, the marvel -would subside, and the triumph might perhaps turn to blushes! in -considering—not the trembling inferiority, but the sublime humility of -this ablest and most dauntless of Men, but humblest and most orthodox -of Christians.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.</h2> - -<p>While thus with Dr. Johnson, the most reverenced of Dr. Burney’s -connexions, all intercourse was shaken in gaiety and happiness, with -Sir Joshua Reynolds, save from grief for Dr. Johnson, gaiety and -happiness still seemed almost stationary.</p> - -<p>Sir Joshua Reynolds had a suavity of disposition that set every - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 366]</span> - -body at their ease in his society; though neither that, nor what Dr. -Johnson called his “<em>inoffensiveness</em>,” bore the character of a tame -insipidity that never differed from a neighbour; or that knew not how -to support an opposing opinion with firmness and independence. On the -contrary, Sir Joshua was even peculiar in thinking for himself: and -frequently, after a silent rumination, to which he was unavoidably -led by not following up, from his deafness, the various stages of any -given question, he would surprise the whole company by starting some -new and unexpected idea on the subject in discussion, in a manner so -imaginative and so original, that it either drew the attention of the -interlocutors into a quite different mode of argument to that with -which they had set out; or it incited them to come forth, in battle -array, against the novelty of his assertions. In the first case, he was -frankly gratified, but never moved to triumph; in the second, he met -the opposition with candour; but was never brow-beaten from defending -his cause with courage, even by the most eminent antagonist.</p> - -<p>Both father and daughter shared his favour alike; and both returned it -with an always augmenting attachment.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 367]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MRS. DELANY.</h2> - -<p>The setting, but with glory setting, sun of Mrs. Delany, was -still glowing with all the warmth of generous friendship, all the -capabilities of mental exertion, and all the ingenuous readiness for -enjoyment of innocent pleasure,—or nearly all—that had irradiated its -brilliant rise.</p> - -<p>She was venerated by Dr. Burney, whom most sincerely, in return, she -admired, esteemed, and liked. She has left, indeed, a lasting proof of -her kind disposition to him in her narrative of Anastasia Robinson, -Countess of Peterborough; which, at the request of Dr. Burney, she -dictated, in her eighty-seventh year, to her much-attached and faithful -amanuensis, Anna Astley; and which the Doctor has printed in the fourth -volume of his History.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Delany had known and loved Anastasia Robinson while she was a -public concert and opera singer. The uncommon musical talents of that -songstress were seconded by such faultless and sweet manners, and a -life so irreproachable, that she was received by ladies of the first -rank and character upon terms nearly of equality; though so modest -was her demeanour, that the born distance between them was never by - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 368]</span> - -herself forgotten. She was peculiarly a favourite with the bosom friend -of Mrs. Delany, the Duchess of Portland, whose mother, the Countess of -Oxford, had been the first patroness of Anastasia, and had consented -to be present, as a witness, as well as a support, at the private and -concealed marriage of that syren of her day with the famous and martial -Earl of Peterborough.</p> - -<p>A narrative such as this, and so well authenticated, could not but -cause great satisfaction to Dr. Burney, in holding to view such -splendid success to the power of harmony, when accompanied by virtue.</p> - -<p>This increase of intercourse with Mrs. Delany, was a source of gentle -pleasure in perfect concord with the Doctor’s present turn of mind; -and trebly welcome on account of his daughter, to whose poignant grief -for the loss of Mr. Crisp it was a solace the most seasonable. Her -description of its soothing effect, which is gratefully recorded in her -diary to her sister at Boulogne, may here, perhaps, not unacceptably be -copied for the reader, as a further picture of this venerable widow of -one of the most favourite friends of Dean Swift.</p> - -<p>“<i>July 18, 1783.</i>—I called again, my dear Susan, upon the sweet Mrs. -Delany, whom every time I see I feel myself to love even more than I - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 369]</span> - -admire. And how dear, how consolatory is it to me to be honoured with -so much of her favour, as to find her always eager, upon every meeting, -to fix a time for another and another visit! How truly desirable -are added years, where the spirit of life evaporates not before its -extinction! She is as generously awake to the interests of those she -loves, as if her own life still claimed their responsive sympathies. -There is something in her quite angelic. I feel no cares when with -her. I think myself with the true image and representative of our so -loved maternal Grandmother, in whose presence not only all committal -of evil, even in thought, was impossible, but its sufferance, also, -seemed immaterial, from the higher views that the very air she breathed -imparted. This composure, and these thoughts, are not for lasting -endurance! Yet it is salubrious to feel them even for a few hours. I -wish my Susan knew her. I would not give up my knowledge of her for -the universe. I spend with her all the time I have at my own disposal; -and nothing has so sensibly calmed my mind, since our fatal Chesington -deprivation, as her society. The religious turn which kindness, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 370]</span> - -united to wisdom, in old age, gives, involuntarily, to all commerce -with it, beguiles us out of anxiety and misery a thousand times more -successfully than all the forced exertions of gaiety from dissipation.”</p> - -<p>If such was the benefit reaped by the daughter from this animated and -very uncommon friendship, the great age of one of the parties at its -formation considered, who can wonder at the glad as well as proud -encouragement which it met with from Dr. Burney?</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MR. BURKE.</h2> - -<p>But the cordial the most potent to the feelings and the spirits of -the Doctor, in this hard-trying year, was the exhilarating partiality -displayed towards him by Mr. Burke; and which was doubly soothing by -warmly and constantly including the Memorialist in its urbanity. From -the time of the party at Sir Joshua Reynolds’ upon Richmond Hill, their -intercourse had gone on with increase of regard. They met, and not -unfrequently, at various places; but chiefly at Sir Joshua Reynolds’, -Miss Moncton’s, and Mrs. Vesey’s. Mr. Burke delighted in society as - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 371]</span> - -much as of society he was the supreme delight: and perhaps to this -social disposition he owed that part of his oratorical excellence that -made it so entertainingly varying, and so frequently interspersed with -penetrating reflections on human life.</p> - -<p>But to the political circle to which Mr. Burke and his powers were -principally devoted, Dr. Burney was, accidentally, a stranger. -Accidentally may be said, for it was by no means deliberately, as he -was not of any public station or rank that demanded any restrictions to -his mental connexions. He was excursive, therefore, in his intercourse, -though fixed in his principles.</p> - -<p>But besides the three places above named, Mr. Burke himself, from the -period of the assembly at Miss Moncton’s, had the grace and amiability -to drop in occasionally, uninvited and unexpectedly, to the little -tea-table of St. Martin’s-street; where his bright welcome from the -enchanted Memorialist, for whom he constantly inquired when the Doctor -was abroad, repaid him—in some measure, perhaps—for almost always -missing the chief of whom he came in search.</p> - -<p>The Doctor, also, when he had half an hour to spare, took the new -votary of Mr. Burke to visit him and his pleasing wife, at their - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 372]</span> - -apartments at the Treasury, where now was their official residence. And -here they saw, with wonder and admiration, amidst the whirl of politics -and the perplexities of ministerial arrangements, in which Mr. Burke, -then in the administration, was incessantly involved, how cheerfully, -how agreeably, how vivaciously, he could still be the most winning of -domestic men, the kindest of husbands, the fondest of fathers, and the -most delightful of friends.</p> - -<p>During one of these visits to the Treasury, Mr. Burke presented to Miss -Palmer a beautiful inkstand, with a joined portfolio, upon some new -construction, and finished up with various contrivances, equally useful -and embellishing. Miss Palmer accepted it with great pleasure, but not -without many conscious glances towards the Memorialist, which, at last, -broke out into an exclamation: “I am ashamed to take it, Mr. Burke! how -much more Miss Burney deserves a writing present!”</p> - -<p>“Miss Burney?” repeated he, with energy; “Fine writing tackle for Miss -Burney? No, no; she can bestow value on the most ordinary. A morsel of -white tea-paper, and a little blacking from her friend Mr. Briggs, in -a broken gallipot, would be converted by Miss Burney into more worth - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 373]</span> - -than all the stationery of all the Treasury.”</p> - -<p>This gay and ingenious turn, which made the compliment as gratifying to -one, as the present could be to the other, raised a smile of general -archness at its address in the company; and of comprehensive delight in -Dr. Burney.</p> - -<p>The year 1783 was now on its wane; so was the administration in which -Mr. Burke was a minister; when one day, after a dinner at Sir Joshua -Reynolds’, Mr. Burke drew Dr. Burney aside, and, with great delicacy, -and feeling his way, by the most investigating looks, as he proceeded, -said that the organist’s place at Chelsea College was then vacant: that -it was but twenty pounds a year, but that, to a man of Dr. Burney’s -eminence, if it should be worth acceptance, it might be raised to -fifty. He then lamented that, during the short time in which he had -been Paymaster General, nothing better, and, indeed, nothing else had -occurred more worthy of offering.</p> - -<p>Trifling as this was in a pecuniary light, and certainly far beneath -the age or the rank in his profession of Dr. Burney, to possess any -thing through the influence, or rather the friendship of Mr. Burke, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 374]</span> - -had a charm irresistible. The Doctor wished, also, for some retreat -from, yet near London; and he had reason to hope for apartments, ere -long, in the capacious Chelsea College. He therefore warmly returned -his acknowledgments for the proposal, to which he frankly acceded.</p> - -<p>And two days after, just as the news was published of a total change of -administration, Dr. Burney received from Mr. Burke the following notice -of his vigilant kindness:—</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<div class="smaller"> -<p class="center smcap">“To Dr. Burney.</p> - -<p>“I had yesterday the pleasure of voting you, my dear Sir, a salary of -fifty pounds a year, as organist to Chelsea Hospital. But as every -increase of salary made at our Board is subject to the approbation of -the Lords of the Treasury, what effect the change now made may have I -know not;—but I do not think any Treasury will rescind it.</p> - -<p>“This was <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">pour faire la bonne bouche</i> at parting with office; and -I am only sorry that it did not fall in my way to shew you a more -substantial mark of my high respect for you and Miss Burney.</p> - -<p class="sig-right10">“I have the honour to be, &c.</p> -<p class="sig-right5 smcap">“Edm. Burke.”</p> -<p class="sig-left2">“<i>Horse Guards, Dec. 9, 1783.</i>”</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p>“I really could not do this business at a more early period, else it -would have been done infallibly.”</p> -</div> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 375]</span></p> - -<p>The pleasure of Dr. Burney at this event was sensibly dampt when -he found that <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">la bonne bouche</i> so kindly made for himself, and so -flatteringly uniting his daughter in its intentions, was unallied to -any species of remuneration, or even of consideration, to Mr. Burke -himself, for all his own long willing services, his patriotic exertions -for the general good, and his noble, even where erroneous, efforts to -stimulate public virtue.</p> - -<p>A short time afterwards, Mr. Burke called himself in St. -Martin’s-street, and,—for the Doctor, as usual, was not at home,—Mr. -Burke, as usual, had the condescension to inquire for this Memorialist; -whom he found alone.</p> - -<p>He entered the room with that penetrating look, yet open air, that -marked his demeanour where his object in giving was, also, to receive -pleasure; and in uttering apologies of as much elegance for breaking -into her time, as if he could possibly be ignorant of the honour he did -her; or blind to the delight with which it was felt.</p> - -<p>He was anxious, he said, to make known in person that the business of -the Chelsea Organ was finally settled at the Treasury.</p> - -<p>Difficult would it be, from the charm of his manner as well as of - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 376]</span> - -his words, to decide whether he conveyed this communication with most -friendliness or most politeness: but, having delivered for Dr. Burney -all that officially belonged to the business, he thoughtfully, a -moment, paused; and then impressively said: “This is my last act of -office!”</p> - -<p>He pronounced these words with a look that almost affectionately -displayed his satisfaction that it should so be bestowed; and with such -manly self-command of cheerfulness in the midst of frankly undisguised -regret that all his official functions were over, that his hearer was -sensibly, though silently touched, by such distinguishing partiality. -Her looks, however, she hopes, were not so mute as her voice, for -those of Mr. Burke seemed responsively to accept their gratitude. He -reiterated, then, his kind messages to the Doctor, and took leave.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 377]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">1784.</h2> - -<p>The reviving ray of pleasure that gleamed from the kindness of Mr. -Burke at the close of the fatal year 1783, still spread its genial -warmth over Dr. Burney at the beginning of 1784, by brightening a hope -of recovery for Dr. Johnson; a hope which, though frequently dimmed, -cast forth, from time to time, a transitory lustre nearly to this -year’s conclusion.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">DR. JOHNSON’S CLUB.</h2> - -<p>Dr. Burney now was become a member of the Literary Club; in which he -found an association so select, yet so various, that there were few -things, either of business or pleasure, that he ever permitted to -interfere with his attendance. Where, indeed, could taste point out, -or genius furnish, a society to meet his wishes, if that could fail -which had the decided national superiority of Johnson and Burke at its -head? while Banks, Beauclerk, Boswell, Colman, Courtney, Eliot (Earl,) -Fox, Gibbon, Hamilton (Sir William,) Hinchcliffe, Jones, Macartney -(Earl,) Malone, Percy, Reynolds, Scott (Lord Sewel,) Sheridan, Spencer - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 378]</span> - -(Earl,) Windham, and many others of high and acknowledged abilities, -successively entering, marked this assemblage as the pride—not of this -meeting alone, but of the Classical British Empire of the day.</p> - -<p>It had been the original intention of Dr. Johnson, when this club, -of which the idea was conceived by Sir Joshua Reynolds, was in -contemplation, to elect amongst its members some one of noted -reputation in every art, science, and profession; to the end that solid -information might elucidate every subject that should be started. This -profound suggestion, nevertheless, was either passed over, or overruled.</p> - -<p>It is probable that those, so much the larger portion of mankind, who -love light and desultory discourse, were persuaded they should find -more amusement in wandering about the wilds of fanciful conjecture, -than in submitting to be disciplined by the barriers of systemized -conviction.</p> - -<p>Brightly forward at this club came Mr. Windham, of Felbrig, amongst -those whose penetration had long since preceded the public voice in -ranking Dr. Burney as a distinguished Man of Letters. And from the date -of these meetings, their early esteem was augmented into partial, yet -steady regard.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 379]</span></p> - -<p>Mr. Windham was a true and first rate gentleman; polite, cultivated, -learned, upright, and noble-minded. To an imagination the most ardent -for whatever could issue from native genius in others, he joined a -charm of manner that gave an interest to whatever he uttered himself; -no matter how light, how slight, how unimportant; that invested it -with weight and pleasure to his auditor: while in his smile there -was a gentleness that singularly qualified an almost fiery animation -in his words. To speak, however, of his instantaneous powers of -pleasing,—though it be conferring on him one of the least common of -Nature’s gifts, as well as one of the fairest,—is insufficient to -characterize the peculiar charm of his address; for it was not simply -the power of pleasing that he possessed—it was rather that of winning.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">HANDEL’S COMMEMORATION.</h2> - -<p>In the ensuing spring and summer, a new and brilliant professional -occupation fell, fortunately, to the task of Dr. Burney, drawing -him from his cares, and beguiling him from his sorrows, by notes of -sweetest melody, and combinations of the most intricate, yet sound -harmony; for this year, which completed a century from the birth of - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 380]</span> - -Handel, was allotted for a public Commemoration of that great musician -and his works.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney, justly proud of the honour paid to the chief of that art -of which he was a professor, was soon, and instinctively wound up to -his native spirits, by the exertions which were called forth in aid -of this noble enterprise. He suggested fresh ideas to the Conductors; -he was consulted by all the Directors; and his advice and experience -enlightened every member of the business in whatever walk he moved.</p> - -<p>Not content, however, to be merely a counsellor to a celebration -of such eclât in his own career, he resolved upon becoming the -Historian of the transaction; and upon devoting to it his best labours -gratuitously, by presenting them to the fund for the benefit of decayed -musicians and their families.</p> - -<p>This offer, accordingly, he made to the honourable Directors; by whom -it was accepted with pleasure and gratitude.</p> - -<p>He now delegated all his powers to the furtherance of this grand -scheme; and drew up a narrative of the festival, with so much delight -in recording the disinterestedness of its voluntary performers; its -services to the superannuated or helpless old labourers of his caste; - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 381]</span> - -and the splendid success of the undertaking; that his history of the -performances in Commemoration of Handel, presents a picture so vivid -of that superb entertainment, that those who still live to remember -it, must seem to witness its stupendous effects anew: and those of -later days, who can know of it but by tradition, must bewail their -little chance of ever personally hearing such magnificent harmony; -or beholding a scene so glorious of royal magnificence and national -enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>Dr. Johnson was wont to say, with a candour that, though admirable, was -irresistibly comic, “I always talk my best!” and, with equal singleness -of truth it might be said of Dr. Burney, that, undertake what he would, -he always did his best.</p> - -<p>In writing, therefore, this account, he conceived he should make it -more interesting by preceding it with the Memoirs of Handel. And for -this purpose, he applied to all his German correspondents, to acquire -materials concerning the early life of his hero; and to all to whom -Handel had been known, either personally or traditionally, in England -and Ireland, for anecdotes of his character and conduct in the British -empire. Mrs. Delany here, and by the desire of the King himself, -supplied sundry particulars; her brother, Mr. Granville, having been - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 382]</span> - -one of the patrons of this immortal composer.</p> - -<p>And next, to render the work useful, he inserted a statement of the -cash received in consequence of the five musical performances, with the -disbursement of the sums to their charitable purposes; and an abstract -of the general laws and resolutions of the fund for the support of -decayed musicians and their families.</p> - -<p>And lastly, he embellished it with several plates, representing Handel, -or in honour of Handel; and with two views, from original designs,<a name="FNanchor_73" id="FNanchor_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a> -of the interior of Westminster Abbey during the Commemoration: the -first representing the galleries prepared for the reception of their -Majesties, of the Royal Family, of the Directors, Archbishops, Bishops, -Dean and Chapter of Westminster, heads of the law, &c. &c.</p> - -<p>The second view displaying the orchestra and performers, in the costume -of the day.</p> - -<p>Not small in the scales of justice must be reckoned this gift of the -biographical and professional talents of Dr. Burney to the musical -fund. A man who held his elevation in his class of life wholly from - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 383]</span> - -himself; a father of eight children, who all looked up to him as their -prop; a professor who, at fifty-eight years of age, laboured at his -calling with the indefatigable diligence of youth; and who had no time, -even for his promised History, but what he spared from his repasts or -his repose; to make any offering, gratuitously, of a work which, though -it might have no chance of sale when its eclât of novelty was passed, -must yet, while that short eclât shone forth, have a sale of high -emolument; manifested, perhaps, as generous a spirit of charity, and as -ardent a love of the lyre, as could well, by a person in so private a -line of life, be exhibited.</p> - -<p>Dr. Burney was, of course, so entirely at home on a subject such as -this, that he could only have to wait the arrival of his foreign -materials to go to work; and only begin working to be in sight of his -book’s completion: but the business of the plates could not be executed -quite so rapidly; on the contrary, though the composition was finished -in a few weeks, it was not till the following year that the engravings -were ready for publication.</p> - -<p>This was a laxity of progress that by no means kept pace with the -eagerness of the Directors, or the expectations of the public: and -the former frequently made known their disappointment through the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 384]</span> - -channel of the Earl of Sandwich; who, at the same time, entered into -correspondence with the Doctor, relative to future anniversary concerts -upon a similar plan, though upon a considerably lessened scale to that -which had been adopted for the Commemoration.</p> - -<p>The inconveniences, however, of this new labour, though by no means -trifling, because absorbing all the literary time of the Doctor, -to the great loss and procrastination of his musical history, had -compensations, that would have mitigated much superior evil.</p> - -<p>The King himself deigned to make frequent inquiry into the state of the -business; and when his Majesty knew that the publication was retarded -only by the engravers, he desired to see the loose and unbound sheets -of the work, which he perused with so strong an interest in their -contents, that he drew up two critical notes upon them, with so much -perspicuity and justness, that Dr. Burney, unwilling to lose their -purport, yet not daring to presume to insert them with the King’s name -in any appendix, cancelled the two sheets to which they had reference, -and embodied their meaning in his own text. At this he was certain the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 385]</span> - -King could not be displeased, as it was with his Majesty’s consent that -they had been communicated to the doctor, by Mr. Nicolai, a page of the -Queen’s.</p> - -<p>Now, however, there seems to be no possible objection to giving to the -public these two notes from the original royal text, as the unassuming -tone of their advice cannot but afford a pleasing reminiscence to -those by whom that benevolent monarch was known; while to those who -are too young to recollect him, they may still be a matter of laudable -curiosity. And they will obviate, also, any ignorant imputation of -flattery, in the praise which is inserted in the dedication of the Work -to the King; and which will be subjoined to these original notes.</p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<p class="center"><cite>From the hand-writing of his Majesty George III.</cite></p> - -<p>“It seems but just, as well as natural, in mentioning the 4th Hautbois -Concerto, on the 4th day’s performance of Handel’s Commemoration, to -take notice of the exquisite taste and propriety Mr. Fischer exhibited -in the solo parts; which must convince his hearers that his excellence -does not exist alone in performing his own composition; and that his - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 386]</span> - -tone perfectly filled the stupendous building where this excellent -concerto was performed.”</p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<p class="center"><i>From the same.</i></p> - -<p>“The performance of the Messiah.</p> - -<p>“Dr. Burney seems to forget the great merit of the choral fugue, ‘He -trusteth in God,’ by asserting that the words would admit of no stroke -of passion. Now the real truth is, that the words contain a manifest -presumption and impertinence, which Handel has, in the most masterly -manner, taken advantage of. And he was so conscious of the moral merit -of that movement, that, whenever he was desired to sit down to the -harpsichord, if not instantly inclined to play, he used to take this -subject; which ever set his imagination at work, and made him produce -wonderful capriccios.”</p> - -<div class="topspace2"></div> - -<p class="center"><cite>From Dr. Burney’s Dedication.</cite></p> - -<p>“That pleasure in music should be complete, science and nature -must assist each other. A quick sensibility of melody and harmony -is not often originally bestowed; and those who are born with this -susceptibility of modulated sounds are often ignorant of its - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 387]</span> - -principles, and must, therefore, in a great degree be delighted by -chance. But when your Majesty is present, the artists may congratulate -themselves upon the attention of a judge, in whom all requisites -concur, who hears them not merely with instinctive emotion, but with -rational approbation; and whose praise of Handel is not the effusion of -credulity, but the emanation of science.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>With feelings the most poignant, and a pen the most reluctant, the -Memorialist must now relate an event which gave peculiar and lasting -concern to Dr. Burney; and which, though long foreseen, had lost -nothing, either from expectation or by preparation, of its inherent -unfitness.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MRS. THRALE.</h2> - -<p>About the middle of this year, Mrs. Thrale put an end to the alternate -hopes and fears of her family and friends, and to her own torturing -conflicts, by a change of name that, for the rest of her life, produced -nearly a change of existence.</p> - -<p>Her station in society, her fortune, her distinguished education, -and her conscious sense of its distinction; and yet more, her high - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 388]</span> - -origin<a name="FNanchor_74" id="FNanchor_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a>—a native honour, which had always seemed the glory of her -self-appreciation; all had contributed to lift her so eminently above -the witlessly impetuous tribe, who immolate fame, interest, and duty -to the shrine of passion, that the outcry of surprise and censure -raised throughout the metropolis by these unexpected nuptials, was -almost stunning in its jarring noise of general reprobation; resounding -through madrigals, parodies, declamation, epigrams, and irony.</p> - -<p>And yet more deeply wounding was the concentrated silence of those -faithful friends who, at the period of her bright display of talents, -virtues, and hospitality, had attached themselves to her person with -sincerity and affection.</p> - -<p>Dr. Johnson excepted, none amongst the latter were more painfully -impressed than Dr. Burney; for none with more true grief had foreseen -the mischief in its menace, or dreaded its deteriorating effect on her -maternal devoirs. Nevertheless, conscious that - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 389]</span> - -if he had no weight, he had also no right over her actions, he hardened -not his heart, when called upon by an appeal, from her own hand, to -give her his congratulations; but, the deed once irreversible, civilly -addressed himself to both parties at once, with all of conciliatory -kindness in good wishes and regard, that did least violence to his -sentiments and principles.</p> - -<p>Far harder was the task of his daughter, on receiving from the -new bride a still more ardent appeal, written at the very instant -of quitting the altar: she had been trusted while the conflict -still endured; and her opinions and feelings had unreservedly been -acknowledged in all their grief of opposition: and their avowal had -been borne, nay, almost bowed down to, with a liberality of mind, a -softness of affection, a nearly angelic sweetness of temper, that won -more fondly than ever the heart that they rived with pitying anguish,— -—till the very epoch of the second marriage.</p> - -<p>Yet, strange to tell! all this contest of opinion, and dissonance -of feeling, seemed, at the altar, to be suddenly, but in totality -forgotten! and the bride wrote to demand not alone kind wishes for her -peace and welfare—those she had no possibility of doubting—but joy, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 390]</span> - -wishing joy; but cordial felicitations upon her marriage!</p> - -<p>These, and so abruptly, to have accorded, must, even in their pleader’s -eyes, have had the semblance, and more than the semblance, of the most -glaring hypocrisy.</p> - -<p>A compliance of such inconsistency—such falsehood—the Memorialist -could not bestow; her answer, therefore, written in deep distress, and -with regrets unspeakable, was necessarily disappointing; disappointment -is inevitably chilling; and, after a painful letter or two, involving -mistake and misapprehension, the correspondence—though not on the side -of the Memorialist—abruptly dropt.</p> - -<p>The minuter circumstances of this grievous catastrophe to a connexion -begun with the most brilliant delight, and broken up with the acutest -sorrow, might seem superfluous in the Memoirs of Dr. Burney: yet, -in speaking of him Biographically, in his Fatherly capacity, it is -necessarily alluded to, for the purpose of stating that the conduct -of his daughter, throughout the whole of this afflicting and complex -transaction, from the time he was acquainted with its difficulties, had -his uniform, nay, warmest sanction.</p> - -<p>And not more complete in concurrence upon this - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 391]</span> - -subject were their -opinions than was their unhappiness; and the Doctor always waited, and -his daughter always panted, for any opportunity that might re-open -so dear a friendship, without warring against their principles, or -disturbing their reverence for truth.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">THE LOCKES.</h2> - -<p>Fortunately, and most seasonably, just about the time that these -extraordinary nuptials were in agitating approach, an intercourse the -most benign was opened between the family of Dr. Burney and that of Mr. -Locke, of Norbury Park.</p> - -<p>The value of such an intercourse was warmly appreciated by Dr. Burney, -to whose taste it was sympathy, and to whose feelings it was animation: -while the period at which it took place, that of a blight the most -baneful to himself and his second daughter, gave to it a character of -salubrity as restorative to their nerves as it was soothing to their -hearts.</p> - -<p>What, indeed, of blight, of baleful, could adhere to, could commix -with the Lockes of Norbury Park? All that could be devised, rather -than described, of virtue with hilarity, of imagination with wisdom, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 392]</span> - -appeared there to make their stand. A mansion of classical elegance; -a situation bright, varied, bewitching in picturesque attraction; a -chief in whom every high quality under heaven seemed concentrated; -a partner to that chief uniting the closest mental resemblance -to the embellishment of the most captivating beauty; a progeny -blithe, blooming, and intelligent, encircling them like grouping -angels—exhibited, all together, a picture of happiness so sanctified -by virtue; of talents so ennobled by character; of religion so always -manifested by good works; that Norbury Park presented a scene of -perfection that seemed passing reality! and even while viewed and -enjoyed, to wear the air of a living vision of ideal felicity.</p> - -<p>The first visit that Dr. Burney paid to this incomparable spot was in -company with Sir Joshua Reynolds.</p> - -<p>No place would be more worthy the painter’s eye, and painter’s mind -of the knight of Plympton than this; and he entered into all the -merits of the mansion, its dwellers, and its scenery, with a vivacity -of approvance, as gratifying to his elegant host and hostess, as to -himself were the objects of taste, fancy, and fine workmanship, with -which he was encircled in that school, or assemblage of the fine arts, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 393]</span> - -which seemed in Mr. Locke to exhibit a living Apollo at their head: -while the delicacy, the feeling, the witching softness of his fair -partner, expanded a genial cheerfulness that seemed to bloom around her -wherever she looked or moved.</p> - -<p>The conversation of Mr. Locke was a source inexhaustible of -instruction, conveyed in language at once so sensitive and so pointed; -with a tone, a manner, a look so impressively in harmony with every -word that he uttered; that observations of a depth and a novelty -that seemed to demand the most lengthened discussion, obtained -immediate comprehension, if his hearer examined the penetration of his -countenance while he listened to that of his voice.</p> - -<p>His taste, alike in works of nature and of art, was profound in itself -and illuminating to others: yet, from his habitual silence in mixt -companies, the most strikingly amiable parts of his character could be -developed only on his own domain, amidst his family, his friends, his -neighbours, and the poor: where the refinement of his converse, and the -melting humanity of his disposition, reflected genial lustre on each -other.<a name="FNanchor_75" id="FNanchor_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 394]</span></p> - -<p>Here, too, the knight of Plympton made a leisurely survey of the -extraordinary early sketches of the eldest son of the mansion’s Apollo; -who, for boundless invention, exquisite taste, and masterly sketches -of original execution, was gifted with a genius that mocked all -contemporary rivalry.<a name="FNanchor_76" id="FNanchor_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a></p> - -<p>Dr. Burney himself, at home in all the arts, partook of this -entertainment with his usual animated pleasure in excellence; while in -all that accompanied it of literary or social description, he as often -led as followed these distinguished conversers.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>But the exhilaration of this almost heavenly sojourn—for such, to its -guests, it had appeared—was succeeded by an alarm to the heart of Dr. -Burney the most intense, perhaps, by which it could be attacked; an -alarm deeply affecting his comforts, his wishes, and the happiness of -his whole house, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 395]</span> - -from a menace of consumption to his daughter Susanna, which demanded a -rapid change of air, and forced a hasty and immediate trial of that of -Boulogne sur Mer.</p> - -<p>The motive, however, of the little voyage, with its hope, made Dr. -Burney submit to it with his accustomed rational resignation; though -severe, nearly lacerating, was every separation from that beloved -child; and though suspense and fear hovered over him unremittingly -during the whole of the ensuing winter.</p> - -<p>Doubly, therefore, now, was felt the acquisition of the Lockes, the -charm of whose intercourse was endowed with powers the most balsamic -for alleviating, though it could not heal, the pain of this fearful -wound, through their sympathizing knowledge of the virtues of the -invalid; their appreciation of her sweetness of disposition, their -taste for her society, their enjoyment of her talents, and their -admiration of her conduct and character; of her patience in suffering, -her fortitude in adversity; her mild submission to every inevitable -evil, with her noble struggles against every calamity that firmness, -vigour, or toil, might prevent, or might distance. - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 396]</span> - -They loved her as -she merited to be loved! and almost as she loved them in return; for -their souls were in unison of excellence.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MRS. DELANY.</h2> - -<p>But while the Lockes thus afforded a gentle and genial aid towards -sustaining the illness and absence of Mrs. Phillips, it was not by -superseding, but by blending in sweet harmony with the support afforded -by Mrs. Delany: and if the narration given of that lady has, in any -degree, drawn the reader to join in the admiration with which she -inspired Dr. Burney, he will not be sorry to see a further account of -her, taken again from the Diary addressed to Mrs. Phillips.</p> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<p class="center smcap">“To Mrs. Phillips.</p> - -<p>“I have just passed a delicious day, my Susanna, with Mrs. Delany; -the most pleasing I have spent with her yet. She entrusted to me her -collection of letters from Dean Swift and Dr. Young; and told me all -the anecdotes that occurred to her of both, and of her acquaintance -with them. How grievous that her sight continues enfeebling! all her - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 397]</span> - -other senses, and all her faculties are perfect—though she thinks -otherwise. ‘My friends,’ she said, ‘will last me, I believe, as long as -I last, because they are very good; but the pleasure of our friendship -is now all to be received by me! for I have lost the power of returning -any!’</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>“If she spoke on any other subject such untruths, I should not revere -her, as I now do, to my heart’s core. She had been in great affliction -at the death of Lady Mansfield; for whom the Duchess Dowager of -Portland had grieved, she said, yet more deeply: and they had shut -themselves up together from all other company. ‘But to-day,’ she added, -with a most soft smile, ‘her Grace could not come; and I felt I quite -required a cordial,—so I sent to beg for Miss Burney.’</p> - -<p>“‘I have been told,’ she afterwards said, ‘that when I grew older, I -should feel less; but I do not find it so! I am sooner, I think, hurt -and affected than ever. I suppose it is with very old age as with -extreme youth, the effect of weakness; neither of those stages of life -have firmness for bearing misfortune with equanimity.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 398]</span></p> - -<p>“She keeps her good looks, however, unimpaired, except in becoming -thinner; and, when not under the pressure of recent grief, she is as -lively, gay, pleasant, and good-humouredly arch and playful, as she -could have been at eighteen.</p> - -<p>“‘I see, indeed,’ she said, ‘worse and worse, but I am thankful that, -at my age, eighty-four, I can see at all. My chief loss is from not -more quickly discerning the changes of countenance in my friends. -However, to distinguish even the light is a great blessing!’</p> - -<p>“She had no company whatever, but her beautiful great niece.<a name="FNanchor_77" id="FNanchor_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a> The -Duchess was confined to her home by a bad cold.</p> - -<p>“She was so good as to shew me a most gracious letter from her Majesty, -which she had just received, and which finished thus condescendingly:</p> - -<p class="center">“Believe me, my dear Mrs. Delany,</p> -<p class="sig-right30">“Your affectionate Queen,</p> -<p class="sig-right5">“CHARLOTTE.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 399]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MR. SMELT.</h2> - -<p>Fortunately, also, now, Dr. Burney increased the intimacy of his -acquaintance with Mr. Smelt, formerly sub-governor to the Prince of -Wales;<a name="FNanchor_78" id="FNanchor_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a> -a man who, for displaying human excellence in the three -essential points of Understanding, Character, and Conduct, stood upon -the same line of acknowledged perfection with Mr. Locke of Norbury -Park. And had that virtuous and anxious parent of his people, George -III., known them both at the critical instant when he was seeking a -model of a true fine gentleman, for the official situation of preceptor -to the heir of his sovereignty; he might have had to cope with the most -surprising of difficulties, that of seeing before his choice two men, -in neither of whom he could espy a blemish that could cast a preference -upon the other.</p> - -<p>The worth of both these gentlemen was known upon proof: their talents, -accomplishments, and taste in the arts and in literature, were -singularly similar. Each was soft and winning of speech, but - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 400]</span> - -firm and intrepid of conduct; and their manners, their refined high -breeding, were unrivalled, save each by the other. And while the same, -also, was their reputation for integrity and honour, as for learning -and philosophy, the first personal delight of both was in the promotion -and exercise of those gentle charities of human life, which teach us to -solace and to aid our fellow-creatures.</p> - - -<p class="center">END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="center smaller">BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, BOUVERIE STREET.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> -<div class="footnotes"> -<blockquote> -<p class="footnote"><span class="smcap"><b>Footnotes</b>.</span></p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> -By the second marriage.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> -Now the Honourable Mrs. Robinson.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3" id="Footnote_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> -The Doctor’s eldest daughter.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4" id="Footnote_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> -This early celebrated performer, now in the decline of -life, after losing her health, and nearly out-living her friends, -is reduced, not by faults but misfortunes, to a state of pecuniary -difficulties, through which she must long since have sunk, but for -the generous succour of some personages as high in benevolence as in -rank.<a name="FNanchor_5" id="FNanchor_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> -Should this appeal awaken some new commiserators of talents -and integrity, bowed down by years and distress, they will find, in a -small apartment, No. 58, in Great Portland-street, a feeble, but most -interesting person, who is truly deserving of every kind impulse she -may excite.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_5" id="Footnote_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> -She is assisted, occasionally, by many noble ladies; but -the Earl of Mount Edgcumbe is her most active patron.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_6" id="Footnote_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> -Pacchiorotti had not yet visited England.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_7" id="Footnote_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> -Afterwards Lord Cardigan.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_8" id="Footnote_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> -Afterwards Lord Malmsbury.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_9" id="Footnote_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> -Afterwards Bishop of Durham.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_10" id="Footnote_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> -Now Viscountess Keith.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_11" id="Footnote_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> -See Correspondence.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_12" id="Footnote_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> -This has reference wholly to Bolt Court, where he -constantly retained his home: at Streatham, continually as he there -resided, it was always as a guest.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_13" id="Footnote_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> -Afterwards Mrs. Phillips.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_14" id="Footnote_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> -The present Mrs. Broome.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_15" id="Footnote_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> -Mrs. Burney, of Bath.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_16" id="Footnote_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> -Now Viscountess Keith.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_17" id="Footnote_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> -Afterwards Author of Biographiana.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_18" id="Footnote_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> -His fifth daughter, Sarah Harriet, was then a child.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_19" id="Footnote_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> -His nephew and heir, he sent over to London to be -educated.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_20" id="Footnote_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> -See Correspondence.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_21" id="Footnote_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> -This was written in the year 1828.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_22" id="Footnote_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> -The first volume of this work was nearly printed, when -the Editor had the grief of hearing that Sir Walter Scott was no -more. In the general sorrow that his loss has spread throughout the -British Empire, she presumes not to speak of her own: but she cannot -persuade herself to annul the little tribute, by which she had meant to -demonstrate to him her sense of the vivacity with which he had sought -out her dwelling; invited her to the hospitality of his daughters at -Abbotsford; and courteously, nay, eagerly, offered to do the honours of -Scotland to her himself, from that celebrated abode. -</p> - -<p> -In a subsequent visit with which he honoured and delighted her in -the following year, she produced to him the scraps of documents and -fragments which she had collected from ancient diaries and letters, in -consequence of his inquiries. Pleased he looked; but told her that what -already she had related, already—to use his own word—he had “noted;” -adding, “And most particularly, I have not forgotten your mulberry -tree!” -</p> - -<p> -This little history, however, was so appropriately his own, and was -written so expressly with a view to its dedication, that still, with -veneration—though with sadness instead of gladness—she leaves the -brief exordium of her intended homage in its original state.—And -the less reluctantly, as the companion of his kindness and his -interrogatories will still—she hopes—accept, and not unwillingly, his -own share in the small offering. -</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_23" id="Footnote_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> -Edward Burney, Esq., of Clipstone-street.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_24" id="Footnote_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> -See Correspondence.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_25" id="Footnote_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> -Sir Walter Scott was then a child.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_26" id="Footnote_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> -Now Viscountess Keith.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_27" id="Footnote_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> -The Editor, at the date of this letter, knew not that the -club to which Dr. Johnson alluded, was that which was denominated his -own,—or The Literary Club.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_28" id="Footnote_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> -Afterwards Lord Ashburton.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_29" id="Footnote_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> -Afterwards Sir William Weller Pepys.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_30" id="Footnote_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> -Afterwards Lord Sheffield.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_31" id="Footnote_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> -Now Mrs. Alison, of Edinburgh.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_32" id="Footnote_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> -Translator of Tacitus.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_33" id="Footnote_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> -Dr. Johnson told this to the Editor.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_34" id="Footnote_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> -Dr. Fordyce’s Sermons to Young Women.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_35" id="Footnote_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> -This was so strongly observed by Mrs. Maling, mother to -the Dowager Countess of Mulgrave, that she has often exclaimed to this -Memorialist, “Why did not Sir Joshua Reynolds paint Dr. Johnson when he -was speaking to Dr. Burney or to you?”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_36" id="Footnote_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> -Dr. Lawrence, Sir Richard Jebb, Dr. Warren, Sir Lucas -Pepys.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_37" id="Footnote_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> -By the Countess of Tankerville.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_38" id="Footnote_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> -Afterwards George the Fourth.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_39" id="Footnote_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> -Cecilia.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_40" id="Footnote_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> -Miss Susanna Burney, afterwards Mrs. Phillips.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_41" id="Footnote_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> -Miss Palmer.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_42" id="Footnote_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> -Now Marquis of Stafford.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_43" id="Footnote_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> -Now Viscountess Keith.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_44" id="Footnote_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> -Afterward Marquis of Lansdowne, who first rented Mrs. -Thrale’s house at Streatham.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_45" id="Footnote_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> -Sir William Weller Pepys, when he was eighty-four years -of age, told this Memorialist that he was the only male member then -remaining of the original set; and that Mrs. Hannah More was the only -remaining female.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_46" id="Footnote_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> -This only treats of the Blue Meetings; not of the general -assemblies of Montagu House, which were conducted like all others in -the circles of high life.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_47" id="Footnote_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> -Every May-day, Mrs. Montagu gave an annual breakfast in -the front of her new mansion, of roast beef and plum pudding, to all -the chimney sweepers of the Metropolis.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_48" id="Footnote_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> -It was here, at Mrs. Montagu’s, that Doctor Burney had -the happiness to see open to this Memorialist an acquaintance with Mr. -and Mrs. Locke, which led, almost magically, to an intercourse that -formed,—and still forms, one of the first felicities of her life.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_49" id="Footnote_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> -Now Countess of Cork.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_50" id="Footnote_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> -The present Memorialist surprised him, one day, so -palpably employed in such an investigation, that, seeing her startled, -he looked almost ashamed; but, frankly laughing at the silent -detection, he cried: “When do you come to sit to me? I am quite ready!” -making a motion with his hand as if advancing it with a pencil to a -canvass: “All prepared!” intimating that he had settled in his thoughts -the disposition of her portrait.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_51" id="Footnote_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> - -The means for charitable contributions upon so liberal -a scale as those of Sir W. W. Pepys, may, perhaps, be deduced, by -analogy, from his wise and rare spirit of calculation: how to live -with the Greater and the Richer, and yet escape either the risk of -ruin, or the charge of meanness. “When I think it right,” said he, in -a visit which he made to this Memorialist, after walking, and alone, -at eighty-five, from Gloucester-place to Bolton-street, about three -weeks before his death, “When I think it right, whether for the good -of my excellent children, or for my own pleasure,—or for my little -personal dignity, to invite some wealthy Noble to dine with me, I make -it a point not to starve my family, or my poor pensioners, for a year -afterwards, by emulating his lordship’s, or his grace’s, table-fare. -I give, therefore, but a few dishes, and two small courses; all my -care is, that every thing shall be well served, and the best of its -kind. And when we sit down, I frankly tell them my plan; upon which -my guests, more flattered by that implied acknowledgment of their -superior rank and rent-roll, than they could possibly be by any attempt -at emulation; and happy to find that they shall make no breach in my -domestic economy and comfort, immediately fall to, with an appetite -that would surprise you! and that gives me the greatest gratification. -I do not suppose that they anywhere make a more hearty meal.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_52" id="Footnote_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> -Mr. Cambridge was a potent contributor to the periodical -paper called The World; for which Mr. Jenyns, also, occasionally wrote.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_53" id="Footnote_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> -Swift’s Long-Eared Letter.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_54" id="Footnote_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> -Now Mrs. Alison, of Edinburgh.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_55" id="Footnote_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> -Daughter of John Granville, Esq., and niece of Pope’s -Granville, the then Lord Lansdowne, “of every Muse the Friend.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_56" id="Footnote_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> -See Sir Walter Scott’s Life of Swift.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_57" id="Footnote_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> -This invaluable <em>unique</em> work has lately been purchased -by —— Hall, Esq.; a son-in-law of Mrs. Delany’s favourite niece, Mrs. -Waddington.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_58" id="Footnote_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> -Since Lord Rokeby.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_59" id="Footnote_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> -Mrs. Montagu.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_60" id="Footnote_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> -Now Mrs. Agnew, the amanuensis and attendant of Mrs. -Delany.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_61" id="Footnote_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> -Miss Larolles, now, would say eleven or twelve.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_62" id="Footnote_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> -Mrs. Burney, of Bath.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_63" id="Footnote_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> -Charlotte, now Mrs. Broome; the young<em>est</em> daughter, -Sarah Harriet, was still a child.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_64" id="Footnote_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> -See Correspondence.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_65" id="Footnote_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> -M. Berquin, some years later, was nominated preceptor -to the unfortunate Louis XVII., but was soon dismissed by the inhuman -monsters who possessed themselves of the person of that crownless -orphan King.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_66" id="Footnote_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> -See Correspondence.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_67" id="Footnote_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> -Now Madame Adelaide, sister to Louis Philippe.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_68" id="Footnote_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> -Madame de Genlis, in her Memoirs, mentions this -appointment in terms of less dignity.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_69" id="Footnote_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_69"><span class="label">[69]</span></a> -This <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">maladie du pays</i> has pursued and annoyed her -through life; except when incidentally surprised away by peculiar -persons, or circumstances.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_70" id="Footnote_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_70"><span class="label">[70]</span></a> -“Mr. Bewley, for more than twenty years, supplied the -editor of the Monthly Review with an examination of innumerable works -in science, and articles of foreign literature, written with a force, -spirit, candour, and, when the subject afforded opportunity, humour, -not often found in critical discussions.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_71" id="Footnote_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_71"><span class="label">[71]</span></a> -Now Mrs. Broome.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_72" id="Footnote_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_72"><span class="label">[72]</span></a> -This bore reference to an expression of Dr. Johnson’s, -upon hearing that Mrs. Montagu resented his Life of Lord Lyttleton. -</p> -<p> -The Diary Letter to Susannah, whence these two billets are copied, -finishes with this paragraph. -</p> -<p> -“Our dear father, as eager as myself that our most reverenced Dr. -Johnson should not be hurt or offended, spared me the coach, and to -Bolt Court I went in the evening: and with outspread arms of parental -greeting to mark my welcome, was I received. Nobody was there but our -brother Charles and Mr. Sastres: and Dr. Johnson, repeatedly thanking -me for coming, was, if possible, more instructive, entertaining, and -exquisitely fertile than ever; and so full of amenity, and talked so -affectionately of our father, that neither Charles nor I could tell -how to come away. While he, in return, soothed by exercising his noble -faculties with natural, unexcited good-humour and pleasantry, would -have kept us, I believe, to this moment— -</p> -<p> -“You have no objection, I think, my Susan, to a small touch of -hyperbole?—— -</p> -<p> -if the coachman and the horses had been as well entertained as -ourselves.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_73" id="Footnote_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_73"><span class="label">[73]</span></a> -By Edward Burney, Esq., of Clipstone-street.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_74" id="Footnote_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_74"><span class="label">[74]</span></a> -Hester Lynch Salusbury, Mrs. Thrale, was lineally -descended from Adam of Saltsburg, who came over to England with the -Conqueror.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_75" id="Footnote_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_75"><span class="label">[75]</span></a> -The late Sir Thomas Lawrence, in speaking of Norbury Park -to this editor, while he was painting his matchless picture of Mrs. -Locke, senior, in 1826, said “I have seen much of the world since I -was first admitted to Norbury Park,—but I have never seen another Mr. -Locke!”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_76" id="Footnote_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_76"><span class="label">[76]</span></a> -This, also, was the opinion of Sir Thomas Lawrence.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_77" id="Footnote_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_77"><span class="label">[77]</span></a> -Miss Port, now Mrs. Waddington of Llanover House.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_78" id="Footnote_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_78"><span class="label">[78]</span></a> -Afterwards George IV.</p></div> - -</blockquote> -</div> - -<div class="topspace1"></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="transnote"> -<p><span class="smcap">Transcriber’s Notes.</span><br /></p> -<p>1. Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected.</p> -<p>2. Typographical errors were silently corrected.</p> -<p>3. Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only -when a predominant form was found in this book.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="full" /> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Memoirs of Doctor Burney, (Vol. 2 of 3) -by Fanny Burney - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIRS OF DOCTOR BURNEY *** - -***** This file should be named 61926-h.htm or 61926-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/9/2/61926/ - -Produced by MWS, Brian Wilsden and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://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. 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