Part 11
_Wednesday_.--We could not prevail with Dr. Johnson to stay till Mrs. Montagu arrived, though, by appointment, she came very early. She and Miss Gregory came by one o'clock.
There was no party to meet her. She is middle-sized, very thin, and looks infirm; she has a sensible and penetrating countenance, and the air and manner of a woman accustomed to being distinguished, and of great parts. Dr. Johnson, who agrees in this, told us that a Mrs. Hervey, of his acquaintance, says she can remember Mrs. Montagu trying for this same air and manner. Mr. Crisp has said the same: however, nobody can now impartially see her, and not confess that she has extremely well succeeded.
My expectations, which were compounded of the praise of Mrs. Thrale, and the abuse of Mr. Crisp, were most exactly, answered, for I thought her in a medium way.
Miss Gregory is a fine young woman, and seems gentle and well-bred.
A bustle with the dog Presto--Mrs. Thrale's favourite--at the entrance of these ladies into the library, prevented any formal reception; but as soon as Mrs. Montagu heard my name, she inquired very civilly after my father, and made many speeches concerning a volume of “Linguet,”[70] which she has lost; but she hopes soon to be able to replace it. I am sure he is very high in her favour, because she did me the honour of addressing herself to me three or four times.
But my ease and tranquillity were soon disturbed: for she had not been in the room more than ten minutes, ere, turning to Mrs. Thrale, she said,
“Oh, ma'am--but your 'Evelina'--I have not yet got it. I sent for it, but the bookseller had it not. However, I will certainly have it.”
“Ay, I hope so,” answered Mrs. Thrale, “and I hope you will like it too; for 'tis a book to be liked.”
I began now a vehement nose-blowing, for the benefit of handkerchiefing my face.
“I hope though,” said Mrs. Montagu, drily, “it is not in verse? I can read anything in prose, but I have a great dread of a long story in verse.”
“No, ma'am, no; 'tis all in prose, I assure you. 'Tis a novel; and an exceeding--but it does nothing good to be praised too much, so I will say nothing more about it: only this, that Mr. Burke sat up all night to read it.”
“Indeed? Well, I propose myself great pleasure from it and I am gratified by hearing it is written by a woman.”
“And Sir Joshua Reynolds,” continued Mrs. Thrale, “has been offering fifty pounds to know the author.”
“Well, I will have it to read on my journey; I am going to Berkshire, and it shall be my travelling book.”
“No, ma'am if you please you shall have it now. Queeny, do look it for Mrs. Montagu, and let it be put in her carriage, and go to town with her.”
Miss Thrale rose to look for it, and involuntarily I rose too, intending to walk off, for my situation was inexpressibly awkward; but then I recollected that if I went away, it might seem like giving Mrs. Thrale leave and opportunity to tell my tale, and therefore I stopped at a distant window, where I busied myself in contemplating the poultry.
“And Dr. Johnson, ma'am,” added my kind puffer, “says Fielding never wrote so well--never wrote equal to this book; he says it is a better picture of life and manners than is to be found anywhere in Fielding.”
“Indeed?” cried Mrs. Montagu, surprised; “that I did not expect, for I have been informed it is the work of a young lady and therefore, though I expected a very pretty book, I supposed it to be a work of mere imagination, and the name I thought attractive; but life and manners I never dreamt of finding.”
“Well, ma'am, what I tell you is literally true; and for my part, I am never better pleased than when good girls write clever books--and that this is clever--But all this time we are killing Miss Burney, who wrote the book herself.”
What a clap of thunder was this!--the last thing in the world I should have expected before my face? I know not what bewitched Mrs. Thrale, but this was carrying the jest further than ever. All retenu being now at an end, I fairly and abruptly took to my heels, and ran out of the room with the utmost trepidation, amidst astonished exclamations from Mrs. Montagu and Miss Gregory.
I was horribly disconcerted, but I am now so irrecoverably in for it, that I begin to leave off reproaches and expostulations; indeed, they have very little availed me while they might have been of service, but now they would pass for mere parade and affectation; and therefore since they can do no good, I gulp them down. I find them, indeed, somewhat hard of digestion, but they must make their own way as well as they can.
I determined not to make my appearance again till dinner was upon table; yet I could neither read nor write, nor indeed do any thing but consider the new situation in life into which I am thus hurried--I had almost said forced--and if I had, methinks it would be no untruth.
Miss Thrale came laughing up after me, and tried to persuade me to return. She was mightily diverted all the morning, and came to me with repeated messages of summons to attend the company, but I could not brave it again into the roon, and therefore entreated her to say I was finishing a letter. Yet I was sorry to lose so much of Mrs. Montagu.
When dinner was upon table, I followed the procession, in a tragedy step, as Mr. Thrale will have it, into the dining parlour. Dr. Johnson was returned.
The conversation was not brilliant, nor do I remember much of it; but Mrs. Montagu behaved to me just as I could have wished, since she spoke to me very little, but spoke that little with the utmost politeness. But Miss Gregory, though herself a modest girl, quite stared me out of countenance, and never took her eyes off my face.
When Mrs. Montagu's new house was talked of, Dr. Johnson, in a jocose manner, desired to know if he should be invited to see it.
“Ay, sure,” cried Mrs. Montagu, looking well pleased; “or I shan't like it: but I invite you all to a house warming; I shall hope for the honour of seeing all this company at my new house next Easter day: I fix the day now that it may be remembered.”
Everybody bowed and accepted the invite but me, and I thought fitting not to hear it; for I have no notion of snapping at invites from the eminent. But Dr. Johnson, who sat next to me, was determined I should be of the party, for he suddenly clapped his hand on my shoulder, and called out aloud,
“Little Burney, you and I will go together?”
“Yes, surely,” cried Mrs. Montagu, “I shall hope for the pleasure of seeing 'Evelina.'”
“'Evelina'” repeated he; “has Mrs. Montagu then found out 'Evelina?'”
“Yes,” cried she, “and I am proud of it: I am proud that a work so commended should be a woman's.”
How my face burnt!
“Has Mrs. Montagu,” asked Dr. Johnson, “read 'Evelina?'”
“No, sir, not yet; but I shall immediately, for I feel the greatest eagerness to read it.”
“I am very sorry, madam,” replied he, “that you have not already, read it, because you cannot speak of it with a full conviction of its merit: which, I believe, when you have read it, you will have great pleasure in acknowledging.”
Some other things were said, but I remember them not, for I could hardly keep my place: but my sweet, naughty Mrs. Thrale looked delighted for me....
When they were gone, how did Dr. Johnson astonish me by asking if I had observed what an ugly cap Miss Gregory had on? Then taking both my hands, and looking at me with an expression of much kindness, he said,
“Well, Miss Burney, Mrs. Montagu now will read 'Evelina'”....
Mrs. Thrale then told me such civil things. Mrs. Montagu, it seems, during my retreat, inquired very particularly what kind of book it was?
“And I told her,” continued Mrs. Thrale, “that it was a picture of life, manners, and characters. 'But won't she go on,' says she; 'surely she won't stop here?'
“'Why,' said I, 'I want her to go on in a new path--I want her to write a comedy.'
“'But,' said Mrs. Montagu, 'one thing must be considered; Fielding, who was so admirable in novel writing, never succeeded when he wrote for the stage.'”
“Very well said,” cried Dr. Johnson “that was an answer which showed she considered her subject.”
Mrs. Thrale continued:
“'Well, but a propos,' said Mrs. Montagu, 'if Miss Burney does write a play, I beg I may know of it; or, if she thinks proper, see it; and all my influence is at her service. We shall all be glad to assist in spreading the fame of Miss Burney.'”
I tremble for what all this will end in. I verily think I had best stop where I am, and never again attempt writing: for after so much honour, so much success--how shall I bear a downfall?
DR. JOHNSON'S COMPLIMENTS AND GROSS SPEECHES.
_Monday, Sept. 21_.--I have had a thousand delightful conversations with Dr. Johnson, who, whether he loves me or not, I am sure seems to have some opinion of my discretion, for he speaks of all this house to me with unbounded confidence, neither diminishing faults, nor exaggerating praise.
Whenever he is below stairs he keeps me a prisoner, for he does not like I should quit the room a moment; if I rise he constantly calls out, “Don't you go, little Burney!”
Last night, when we were talking of compliments and of gross speeches, Mrs. Thrale most justly said, that nobody could make either like Dr. Johnson. “Your compliments, sir, are made seldom, but when they are made they have an elegance unequalled; but then when you are angry! who dares make speeches so bitter and so cruel?”
Dr. J.-Madam, I am always sorry when I make bitter speeches, and I never do it, but when I am insufferably vexed.
Mrs. T-Yes, Sir; but you suffer things to vex you, that nobody else would vex at. I am sure I have had my share of scoldings from _you_!
Dr. J-It is true, you have; but you have borne it like an angel, and you have been the better for it.
Mrs. T.-That I believe, sir: for I have received more instruction from you than from any man, or any book: and the vanity that you should think me worth instructing, always overcame the vanity[71] of being found fault with. And so you had the scolding, and I the improvement.
F.B.-And I am sure both make for the honour of both!
Dr J.-I think so too. But Mrs. Thrale is a sweet creature, and never angry; she has a temper the most delightful of any woman I ever knew.
Mrs. T.-This I can tell you, sir, and without any flattery--I not only bear your reproofs when present, but in almost everything I do in your absence, I ask myself whether you would like it, and what you would say to it. Yet I believe there is nobody you dispute with oftener than me.
F.B.-But you two are so well established with one another, that you can bear a rebuff that would kill a stranger.
Dr. J.-Yes; but we disputed the same before we were so well established with one another.
Mrs. T.-Oh, sometimes I think I shall die no other death than hearing the bitter things he says to others. What he says to myself I can bear, because I know how sincerely he is my friend, and that he means to mend me; but to others it is cruel.
Dr. J.-Why, madam, you often provoke me to say severe things, by unreasonable commendation. If you would not call for my praise, I would not give you my censure; but it constantly moves my indignation to be applied to, to speak well of a thing which I think contemptible.
F.B.-Well, this I know, whoever I may hear complain of Dr. Johnson's severity, I shall always vouch for his kindness, as far as regards myself, and his indulgence.
Mrs. T.-Ay, but I hope he will trim you yet, too!
Dr. J.-I hope not: I should be very sorry to say anything that should vex my dear little Burney.
F.B.-If you did, sir, it would vex me more than you can imagine. I should sink in a minute.
Mrs. T.-I remember, sir, when we were travelling in Wales, how you called me to account for my civility to the people. 'Madam,' you said, 'let me have no more of this idle commendation of nothing. Why is it, that whatever you see, and whoever you see, you are to be so indiscriminately lavish of praise?' 'Why! I'll tell you, sir,' said I, 'when I am with you and Mr. Thrale, and Queeny, I am obliged to be civil for four!'
There was a cutter for you! But this I must say, for the honour of both--Mrs. Thrale speaks to Dr. Johnson with as much sincerity, (though with greater softness,) as he does to her.
SUGGESTED HUSBANDS FOR FANNY BURNEY.
_Sept. 26_--The present chief sport with Mrs. Thrale is disposing of me in the holy state of matrimony, and she offers me whoever comes to the house. This was begun by Mrs. Montagu, who, it seems, proposed a match for me in my absence, with Sir Joshua Reynolds!--no less a man, I assure you!
When I was dressing for dinner, Mrs. Thrale told me that Mr. Crutchley was expected.
“Who's he?” quoth I.
“A young man of very large fortune, who was a ward of Mr. Thrale. Queeny, what do you say of him for Miss Burney?”
“Him?” cried she; “no, indeed; what has Miss Burney done to have him?”
“Nay, believe me, a man of his fortune may offer himself anywhere. However, I won't recommend him.”
“Why then, ma'am,” cried I, with dignity, “I reject him!”
This Mr. Crutchley stayed till after breakfast the next morning. I can't tell you anything, of him, because I neither like nor dislike him. Mr. Crutchley was scarce gone, ere Mr. Smith arrived. Mr. Smith is a second cousin to Mr. Thrale, and a modest pretty sort of young man. He stayed till Friday morning. When he was gone.
“What say you to him, Miss Burney?” cried Mrs. Thrale; “I'm sure I offer you variety.”
“Why I like him better than Mr. Crutchley, but I don't think I shall pine for either of them.”
“Dr. Johnson,” said Mrs. Thrale, “don't you think Jerry Crutchley very much improved?”
Dr. J.-Yes, madam, I think he is.
Mrs. T.-Shall he have Miss Burney?
Dr. J.-Why, I think not; at least I must know more about him; I Must inquire into his connections, his recreations, his employments, and his character, from his intimates, before I trust Miss Burney with him. And he must come down very handsomely with a settlement. I will not have him left to his generosity; for as he will marry her for her wit, and she him for his fortune, he ought to bid well, and let him come down with what he will, his price will never be equal to her worth.
Mrs. T.-She says she likes Mr. Smith better.
Dr. J.-Yes, but I won't have her like Mr. Smith without money, better than Mr. Crutchley with it. Besides, if she has Crutchley, he will use her well, to vindicate his choice. The world, madam, has a reasonable claim upon all mankind to account for their conduct; therefore, if with his great wealth, he marries a woman who has but little, he will be more attentive to display her merit, than if she was equally rich,--in order to show that the woman he has chosen deserves from the world all the respect and admiration it can bestow, or that else she would not have been his choice.
Mrs. T.-I believe young Smith is the better man.
F.B.-Well, I won't be rash in thinking of either; I will take some time for consideration before I fix.
Dr. J.-Why, I don't hold it to be delicate to offer marriage to ladies, even in jest, nor do I approve such sort of jocularity; yet for once I must break through the rules of decorum, and Propose a match myself for Miss Burney. I therefore nominate Sir J---- L----.[72]
Mrs. T.-I'll give you my word, sir, you are not the first to say that, for my master the other morning, when we were alone, said 'What would I give that Sir J---- L---- was married to Miss Burney; it might restore him to our family.' So spoke his Uncle and guardian.
F.B.-He, he! Ha, ha! He, he! Ha, ha!
Dr. J.-That was elegantly said of my master, and nobly said, and not in the vulgar way we have been saying it. And madam, where will you find another man in trade who will make such a speech--who will be capable of making such a speech? Well, I am glad my master takes so to Miss Burney; I would have everybody take to Miss Burney, so as they allow me to take to her most! Yet I don't know whether Sir J---- L---- should have her, neither; I should be afraid for her; I don't think I would hand her to him.
F.B.-Why, now, what a fine match is here broken off!
Some time after, when we were in the library, he asked me very gravely if I loved reading?
“Yes,” quoth I.
“Why do you doubt it, sir?” cried Mrs. Thrale.
“Because,” answered he, “I never see her with a book in her hand. I have taken notice that she never has been reading whenever I have come into the room.”
“Sir,” quoth I, courageously, “I'm always afraid of being caught reading, lest I should pass for being studious or affected, and therefore instead of making a display of books, I always try to hide them, as is the case at this very time, for I have now your 'Life of Waller' under my gloves behind me. However, since I am piqued to it, I'll boldly produce my voucher.”
And so saying, I put the book on the table, and opened it with a flourishing air. And then the laugh was on my side, for he could not help making a droll face; and if he had known Kitty Cooke, I would have called out, “There I had you, my lad!”
A STREATHAM DINNER PARTY.
Monday was the day for our great party; and the Doctor came home, at Mrs. Thrale's request, to meet them. The party consisted of Mr. C--, who was formerly a timber-merchant, but having amassed a fortune of one million of pounds, he has left off business. He is a good-natured busy sort of man.
Mrs. C--, his lady, a sort of Mrs. Nobody.
Mr. N--, another rich business leaver-off.
Mrs. N--, his lady; a pretty sort of woman, who was formerly a pupil of Dr. Hawkesworth. I had a great deal of talk with her about him, and about my favourite miss Kinnaird, whom she knew very well.
Mr. George and Mr. Thomas N--, her sons-in-law.
Mr. R---, of whom I know nothing but that he married into Mr. Thrale's family.
Lady Ladd; I ought to have begun with her. I beg her ladyship a thousand pardons--though if she knew my offence, I am sure I should not obtain one. She is own sister to Mr. Thrale. She is a tall and stout woman, has an air of mingled dignity and haughtiness, both of which wear off in conversation. She dresses very youthful and gaily, and attends to her person with no little complacency. She appears to me uncultivated in knowledge, though an adept in the manners of the world, and all that. She chooses to be much more lively than her brother; but liveliness sits as awkwardly upon her as her pink ribbons. In talking her over with Mrs. Thrale who has a very proper regard for her, but who, I am sure, cannot be blind to her faults, she gave me another proof to those I have already of the uncontrolled freedom of speech which Dr. Johnson exercised to everybody, and which everybody receives quietly from him. Lady Ladd has been very handsome, but is now, I think, quite ugly--at least she has the sort of face I like not. She was a little while ago dressed in so showy a manner as to attract the doctor's notice, and when he had looked at her some time, he broke out aloud into this quotation:
“With patches, paint, and jewels on, Sure Phillis is not twenty-one But if at night you Phillis see, The dame at least is forty-three!”
I don't recollect the verses exactly, but such was their purport.
“However,” said Mrs. Thrale, “Lady Ladd took it very good-naturedly, and only said, 'I know enough of that forty-three--I don't desire to hear any more of it.'”
Miss Moss, a pretty girl, who played and sung, to the great fatigue of Mrs. Thrale; Mr. Rose Fuller, Mr. Embry, Mr. Seward, Dr. Johnson, the three Thrales, and myself, close the party.
In the evening the company divided pretty much into parties, and almost everybody walked upon the gravel-walk before the windows. I was going to have joined some of them, when Dr. Johnson stopped me, and asked how I did.
“I was afraid, sir,” cried I “you did not intend to know me again, for you have not spoken to me before since your return from town.”
“_My_ dear,” cried he, taking both my hands, “I was not of _you_, I am so near sighted, and I apprehended making some Mistake.” Then drawing me very unexpectedly towards him, he actually kissed me!
To be sure, I was a little surprised, having no idea of such facetiousness from him, However, I was glad nobody was in the room but Mrs. Thrale, who stood close to us, and Mr. Embry, who was lounging on a sofa at the furthest end of the room. Mrs. Thrale laughed heartily, and said she hoped I was contented with his amends for not knowing me sooner.
A little after she said she would go and walk with the rest, if she did not fear for my reputation in being “left with the doctor.”
“However, as Mr. Embry is yonder, I think he'll take some care of you,” she added.
“Ay, madam,” said the doctor, “we shall do very well; but I assure you I sha'n't part with Miss Burney!”
And he held me by both hands; and when Mrs. Thrale went, he drew me a chair himself facing the window, close to his own; and thus tete-a-tete we continued almost all the evening. I say tete-a-tete, because Mr, Embry kept at an humble distance, and offered us no interruption And though Mr. Seward soon after came in, he also seated himself at a distant corner, not presuming, he said, to break in upon us! Everybody, he added, gave way to the doctor.
Our conversation chiefly was upon the Hebrides, for he always talks to me of Scotland, out of sport; and he wished I had been of that tour--quite gravely, I assure you!