[Illustration] AUTOBIOGRAPHY LETTERS AND LITERARY REMAINS OF MRS. PIOZZI (THRALE) EDITED WITH NOTES AND AN INTRODUCTORY ACCOUNT OF HER LIFE AND WRITINGS BYA. HAYWARD, ESQ. Q. C. * * * * * Welcome, Associate Forms, where'er we turnFill, Streatham's Hebe, the Johnsonian urn--St. Stephen's * * * * * In Two VolumesVOL. I. SECOND EDITION LONDONLONGMAN, GREEN, LONGMAN, AND ROBERTS1861 * * * * * PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. * * * * * THE first edition of a work of this kind is almost necessarilyimperfect; since the editor is commonly dependent for a great deal ofthe required information upon sources the very existence of which isunknown to him till reminiscences are revived, and communicationsinvited, by the announcement or publication of the book. Somevaluable contributions reached me too late to be properly placed oreffectively worked up; some, too late to be included at all. Thearrangement in this edition will therefore, I trust, be found lessfaulty than in the first, whilst the additions are large andvaluable. They principally consist of fresh extracts from Mrs. Piozzi's private diary ("Thraliana"), amounting to more than fiftypages; of additional marginal notes on books, and of copious extractsfrom letters hitherto unpublished. Amongst the effects of her friend Conway, the actor, after hisuntimely death by drowning in North America, were a copy of Mrs. Piozzi's "Travel Book" and a copy of Johnson's "Lives of the Poets, "each enriched by marginal notes in her handwriting. Such of those inthe "Travel Book" as were thought worth printing appeared in "TheAtlantic Monthly" for June last, from which I have taken the libertyof copying the best. The "Lives of the Poets" is now the property ofMr. William Alexander Smith, of New York, who was so kind as to opena communication with me on the subject, and to have the whole of themarginal notes transcribed for my use at his expense. Animated by the same liberal wish to promote a literary undertaking, Mr. J. E. Gray, son of the Rev. Dr. Robert Gray, late Bishop ofBristol, has placed at my disposal a series of letters from Mrs. Piozzi to his father, extending over nearly twenty-five years (from1797 to the year of her death) and exceeding a hundred in number. These have been of the greatest service in enabling me to completeand verify the summary of that period of her life. So much light is thrown by the new matter, especially by the extractsfrom "Thraliana, " on the alleged rupture between Johnson and Mrs. Piozzi, that I have re-cast or re-written the part of theIntroduction relating to it, thinking that no pains should be sparedto get at the merits of a controversy which now involves, not onlythe moral and social qualities of the great lexicographer, but thedegree of confidence to be placed in the most brilliant and popularof modern critics, biographers and historians. It is no impeachmentof his integrity, no detraction from the durable elements of hisfame, to offer proof that his splendid imagination ran away with him, or that reliance on his wonderful memory made him careless ofverifying his original impressions before recording them in the mostgorgeous and memorable language. No one likes to have foolish or erroneous notions imputed to him, andI have pointed out some of the misapprehensions into which an ablewriter in the "Edinburgh Review" (No. 231) has been hurried by hiseagerness to vindicate Lord Macaulay. Moreover, this struck me to beas good a form as any for re-examining the subject in all itsbearings; and now that it has become common to reprint articles in acollected shape, the comments of a first-rate review can no longer beregarded as transitory. I gladly seize the present opportunity to offer my bestacknowledgments for kind and valuable aid in various shapes, to theMarquis of Lansdowne, His Excellency M. Sylvain Van de Weyer (theBelgian Minister), the Viscountess Combermere, Mr. And the Hon. Mrs. Monckton Milnes, the Hon. Mrs. Rowley, Miss Angharad Lloyd, and theRev. W. H. Owen, Vicar of St. Asaph and Dymerchion. 8, St. James's Street: Oct. 18th, 1861. * * * * * CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME Origin and Materials of the WorkObject of the IntroductionOrigin, Education, and Character of ThraleIntroduction of Johnson to the ThralesJohnson's Habits at the PeriodHis HouseholdHis Social PositionSociety at StreathamBlue Stocking PartiesJohnson's Fondness for Female SocietyNature of his Intimacy with Mrs. ThraleHis Verses to herHer AgeHer Personal Appearance and HandwritingPortraits of herBoswell at StreathamHer Behaviour to JohnsonHer AcquirementsJohnson's Estimate of herPopular Estimate of herManners of her TimeMadame D'Arblay at StreathamHer Account of Conversations thereJohnson's PolitenessMrs. Thrale's Domestic TrialsElectioneering with JohnsonThrale's Embarrassments, and Johnson's AdviceJohnson on Housekeeping and DressHis Opinions on MarriageJohnson in the CountryJohnson fond of riding in a Carriage, but a bad TravellerHis Want of Taste for Music or PaintingTour in WalesTour in FranceBarettiCampbell's DiaryMrs. Thrale's Account of her Quarrel with BarettiHis AccountAlleged Slight to JohnsonMiss StreatfieldThrale's InfidelityMadame D'Arblay as an InmateDr. BurneyMrs. Thrale canvassing SouthwarkAttack by Rioters on the BrewhouseThrale's Illness and Winter in Grosvenor SquareProposed TourThrale's DeathHis WillJohnson as ExecutorHer Management of the BreweryItalian TranslationA strange IncidentMrs. Montagu--Mr. CrutchleySale of the BreweryMrs. Thrale's Introduction to PiozziScene with him at Dr. Burney'sHer early Impressions of himMelancholy ReflectionsJohnson's Regard for ThraleMrs. Thrale's and Johnson's Feelings towards each otherJohnson at Streatham after Thrale's DeathPiozzi--Verses to himJohnson's HealthSelf-CommuningsTown GossipVerses on PacchierottiFears for JohnsonReports of her marrying againReasons for quitting StreathamResolution to quit approved by JohnsonComplaints of Johnson's IndifferencePiozzi--to marry or not to marryWas Johnson driven out of StreathamHis Farewell to StreathamHis last Year thereJohnson and Mrs. Thrale at BrightonConflicting FeelingsGives up PiozziMeditated Journey to ItalyParting with PiozziUnkindness of DaughtersPosition as regards JohnsonObjections to him as an InmateParting with PiozziVerses to him on his DepartureHer undiminished Regard for Johnson proved bytheir CorrespondenceCharacter of DaughtersMadame D'Arblay, Scene with JohnsonLord Brougham's CommentaryCorrespondence with JohnsonRecall of PiozziTrip to LondonVerses to Piozzi on his ReturnJourney with DaughtersFeelings on Piozzi's Return, and MarriageObjections to her Second Marriage discussedCorrespondence with Madame D'Arblay on the MarriageObjections of Daughters--Lady KeithCorrespondence with Johnson as to the MarriageBaretti's Story of her alleged DeceitHer uniform Kindness to JohnsonJohnson's Feelings and ConductMiss Wynn's Commonplace BookJohnson's unfounded Objections to the Marriage and erroneous Impressions of PiozziMiss Seward's Account of his LovesMisrepresentation and erroneous Theory of a CriticLast Days and Death of JohnsonLord Macaulay's Summary of Mrs. Piozzi's Treatment of JohnsonLife in ItalyProjected Work on JohnsonThe Florence MiscellanyCorrespondence with Cadell and Publication of the "Anecdotes"Her alleged Inaccuracy, with InstancesH. WalpolePeter PindarH. Walpole againHannah MoreMarginal Notes on the "Anecdotes"Extracts from Dr. Lort's LettersHer Thoughts on her Return from ItalyHer ReceptionMiss Seward's Impressions of her and PiozziPublication of the "Letters"Opinions on them--Madame D'Arblay, Queen Charlotte, Hannah More, and Miss SewardBaretti's libellous AttacksHer Character of him on his Death"The Sentimental Mother""Johnson's Ghost"The Travel BookOffer to CadellPublication of the Book and Criticisms--Walpole and Miss SewardMrs. Piozzi's Theory of StyleAttacked by Walpole and GiffordThe PrefaceExtractsAnecdote of GoldsmithPublication of her "Synonyms"--Gifford's AttackExtractRemarks on the Appearance of Boswell's Life of Johnson"Retrospection"Moore's Anecdotes of her and PiozziLord Lansdowne's Visit and ImpressionsAdoption and Education of Piozzi's Nephew, afterwards Sir John SalusburyLife in WalesCharacter and Habits of PiozziBrynbellaIllness and Death of PiozziMiss Thrale's MarriageThe Conway EpisodeAnecdotesCelebration of her Eightieth BirthdayHer Death and WillMadame D'Arblay's Parallel between Mrs. Piozzi and Madame de StaëlCharacter of Mrs. Piozzi, Moral and Intellectual * * * * * AUTOBIOGRAPHY &c. OF MRS. PIOZZI VOL. I * * * * * INTRODUCTION: LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI. Dr. Johnson was hailed the colossus of Literature by a generation whomeasured him against men of no common mould--against Hume, Robertson, Gibbon, Warburton, the Wartons, Fielding, Richardson, Smollett, Gray, Goldsmith, and Burke. Any one of these may have surpassed the greatlexicographer in some branch of learning or domain of genius; but asa man of letters, in the highest sense of the term, he toweredpre-eminent, and his superiority to each of them (except Burke) ingeneral acquirements, intellectual power, and force of expression, was hardly contested by his contemporaries. To be associated with hisname has become a title of distinction in itself; and some members ofhis circle enjoy, and have fairly earned, a peculiar advantage inthis respect. In their capacity of satellites revolving round the sunof their idolatry, they attracted and reflected his light and heat. As humble companions of their _Magnolia grandiflora_, they did morethan live with it[1]; they gathered and preserved the choicest of itsflowers. Thanks to them, his reputation is kept alive more by whathas been saved of his conversation than by his books; and hiscolloquial exploits necessarily revive the memory of the friends (orvictims) who elicited and recorded them. [Footnote 1: "Je ne suis pas la rose, mais j'ai vécu prèsd'elle. "--_Constant_. ] If the two most conspicuous among these have hitherto gainednotoriety rather than what is commonly understood by fame, adiscriminating posterity is already beginning to make reparation forthe wrong. Boswell's "Letters to Temple, " edited by Mr. Francis, with"Boswelliana, " printed for the Philobiblion Society by Mr. Milnes, led, in 1857, to a revisal of the harsh sentence passed on one whomthe most formidable of his censors, Lord Macaulay, has declared to benot less decidedly the first of biographers, than Homer is the firstof heroic poets, Shakspeare the first of dramatists, or Demosthenesthe first of orators. The result was favourable to Boswell, althoughthe vulnerable points of his character were still more glaringlydisplayed. The appeal about to be hazarded on behalf of Mrs. Piozzi, will involve little or no risk of this kind. Her ill-wishers made themost of the event which so injuriously affected her reputation at thetime of its occurrence; and the marked tendency of every additionaldisclosure of the circumstances has been to elevate her. No candidperson will read her Autobiography, or her Letters, without arrivingat the conclusion that her long life was morally, if notconventionally, irreproachable; and that her talents were sufficientto confer on her writings a value and attraction of their own, apartfrom what they possess as illustrations of a period or a school. Whenthe papers which form the basis of this work were laid before LordMacaulay, he gave it as his opinion that they afforded materials fora "most interesting and durably popular volume. "[1] [Footnote 1: His letter, dated August 22, 1859, was addressed to Mr. T. Longman. The editorship of the papers was not proposed to me tillafter his death, and I had never any personal communication with himon the subject; although in the Edinburgh Review for July 1857, Iventured, with the same freedom which I have used in vindicating Mrs. Piozzi, to dispute the paradoxical judgment he had passed on Boswell. The materials which reached me after I had undertaken the work, andof which he was not aware, would nearly fill a volume. ] They comprise:-- 1. Autobiographical Memoirs. 2. Letters, mostly addressed to the late Sir James Fellowes. 3. Fugitive pieces of her composition, most of which have neverappeared in print. 4. Manuscript notes by her on Wraxall's Memoirs, and on her ownpublished works, namely: "Anecdotes of the late Samuel Johnson, LL. D. , during the last twenty years of his life, " one volume, 1786:"Letters to and from the late Samuel Johnson, LL. D. , &c. , " in twovolumes, 1788: "Observations and Reflections made in the course of ajourney through France, Italy, and Germany, " in two volumes, 1789:"Retrospection; or, Review of the most striking and important Events, Characters, Situations, and their Consequences which the lastEighteen Hundred Years have presented to the View of Mankind, " in twovolumes, quarto, 1801. The "Autobiographical Memoirs, " and the annotated books, were givenby her to the late Sir James Fellowes, of Adbury House, Hants, M. D. , F. R. S. , to whom the letters were addressed. He and the late Sir JohnPiozzi Salusbury were her executors, and the present publicationtakes place in pursuance of an agreement with their personalrepresentatives, the Rev. G. A. Salusbury, Rector of Westbury, Salop, and Captain J. Butler Fellowes. Large and valuable additions to the original stock of materials havereached me since the announcement of the work. The Rev. Dr. Wellesley, Principal of New Inn Hall, has kindly placedat my disposal his copy of Boswell's "Life of Johnson" (edition of1816), plentifully sprinkled with marginal notes by Mrs. Piozzi. The Rev. Samuel Lysons, of Hempsted Court, Gloucester, has liberallyallowed me the free use of his valuable collection of books andmanuscripts, including numerous letters from Mrs. Piozzi to hisfather and uncle, the Rev. Daniel Lysons and Mr. Samuel Lysons. From 1776 to 1809 Mrs. Piozzi kept a copious diary and note-book, called "Thraliana. " Johnson thus alludes to it in a letter ofSeptember 6th, 1777: "As you have little to do, I suppose you arepretty diligent at the 'Thraliana;' and a very curious collectionposterity will find it. Do not remit the practice of writing downoccurrences as they arise, of whatever kind, and be very punctual inannexing the dates. Chronology, you know, is the eye of history. Donot omit painful casualties or unpleasing passages; they make thevariegation of existence; and there are many passages of which I willnot promise, with Æneas, _et hæc olim meminisse juvabit_. ""Thraliana, " which at one time she thought of burning, is now in thepossession of Mr. Salusbury, who deems it of too private and delicatea character to be submitted to strangers, but has kindly supplied mewith some curious passages and much valuable information extractedfrom it. I shall have many minor obligations to acknowledge as I proceed. Unless Mrs. Piozzi's character and social position are freshlyremembered, her reminiscences and literary remains will lose much oftheir interest and utility. It has therefore been thought advisableto recapitulate, by way of introduction, what has been ascertainedfrom other sources concerning her; especially during her intimacywith Johnson, which lasted nearly twenty years, and exercised amarked influence on his tone of mind. "This year (1765), " says Boswell, "was distinguished by his (Johnson)being introduced into the family of Mr. Thrale, one of the mosteminent brewers in England, and member of Parliament for the boroughof Southwark. .. . Johnson used to give this account of the rise of Mr. Thrale's father: 'He worked at six shillings a week for twenty yearsin the great brewery, which afterwards was his own. The proprietor ofit had an only daughter, who was married to a nobleman. It was notfit that a peer should continue the business. On the old man's death, therefore, the brewery was to be sold. To find a purchaser for solarge a property was a difficult matter; and after some time, it wassuggested that it would be advisable to treat with Thrale, asensible, active, honest man, who had been employed in the house, andto transfer the whole to him for thirty thousand pounds, securitybeing taken upon the property. This was accordingly settled. Ineleven years Thrale paid the purchase money. He acquired a largefortune, and lived to be a member of Parliament for Southwark. Butwhat was most remarkable was the liberality with which he used hisriches. He gave his son and daughters the best education. The esteemwhich his good conduct procured him from the nobleman who had marriedhis master's daughter made him be treated with much attention; andhis son, both at school and at the University of Oxford, associatedwith young men of the first rank. His allowance from his father, after he left college, was splendid; not less than a thousand a year. This, in a man who had risen as old Thrale did, was a veryextraordinary instance of generosity. He used to say, 'If this youngdog does not find so much after I am gone as he expects, let himremember that he has had a great deal in my own time. '" What is here stated regarding Thrale's origin, on the allegedauthority of Johnson, is incorrect. The elder Thrale was the nephewof Halsey, the proprietor of the brewery whose daughter was marriedto a nobleman (Lord Cobham), and he naturally nourished hopes ofbeing his uncle's successor. In the Abbey Church of St. Albans, thereis a monument to some members of the Thrale family who died between1676 and 1704, adorned with a shield of arms and a crest on a ducalcoronet. Mrs. Thrale's marginal note on Boswell's account of herhusband's family is curious and characteristic: "Edmund Halsey was son to a miller at St. Albans, with whom hequarrelled, like Ralph in the 'Maid of the Mill, ' and ran away toLondon with a very few shillings in his pocket. [1] He was eminentlyhandsome, and old Child of the Anchor Brewhouse, Southwark, took himin as what we call a broomstick clerk, to sweep the yard, &c. EdmundHalsey behaved so well he was soon preferred to be a house-clerk, andthen, having free access to his master's table, married his onlydaughter, and succeeded to the business upon Child's demise. Beingnow rich and prosperous, he turned his eyes homewards, where helearned that sister Sukey had married a hardworking man at Offley inHertfordshire, and had many children. He sent for one of them toLondon (my Mr. Thrale's father); said he would make a man of him, anddid so: but made him work very hard, and treated him very roughly, Halsey being more proud than tender, and his only child, a daughter, married to Lord Cobham. "Old Thrale, however, as these fine writers call him, --then a youngfellow, and, like his uncle, eminent for personal beauty, --madehimself so useful to Mr. Halsey that the weight of the business fellentirely on him; and while Edmund was canvassing the borough andvisiting the viscountess, Ralph Thrale was getting money both forhimself and his principal: who, envious of his success with a wenchthey both liked but who preferred the young man to the old one, died, leaving him never a guinea, and he bought the brewhouse of Lord andLady Cobham, making an excellent bargain, with the money he hadsaved. " [Footnote 1: In "Thraliana" she says: "strolled to London with only4_s. _ 6_d. _ in his pocket. "] When, in the next page but one, Boswell describes Thrale aspresenting the character of a plain independent English squire, shewrites: "No, no! Mr. Thrale's manners presented the character of agay man of the town: like Millamant, in Congreve's comedy, heabhorred the country and everything in it. " In "Thraliana" after a corresponding statement, she adds: "He (theelder Thrale) educated his son and three daughters quite in a highstyle. His son he wisely connected with the Cobhams and theirrelations, Grenvilles, Lyttletons, and Pitts, to whom he lent money, and they lent assistance of every other kind, so that my Mr. Thralewas bred up at Stowe, and Stoke and Oxford, and every genteel place;had been abroad with Lord Westcote, whose expenses old Thralecheerfully paid, I suppose, who was thus a kind of tutor to the youngman, who had not failed to profit by these advantages, and who was, when he came down to Offley to see his father's birthplace, a veryhandsome and well accomplished gentleman. " After expatiating on the advantages of birth, and the presumption ofnew men in attempting to found a new system of gentility, Boswellproceeds: "Mr. Thrale had married Miss Hester Lynch Salusbury, ofgood Welsh extraction, a lady of lively talents, improved byeducation. That Johnson's introduction into Mr. Thrale's family, which contributed so much to the happiness of his life, was owing toher desire for his conversation, is a very probable and the generalsupposition; but it is not the truth. Mr. Murphy, who was intimatewith Mr. Thrale, having spoken very highly of Dr. Johnson, he wasrequested to make them acquainted. This being mentioned to Johnson, he accepted of an invitation to dinner at Thrale's, and was so muchpleased with his reception both by Mr. And Mrs. Thrale, and they somuch pleased with him, that his invitations to their house were moreand more frequent, till at last he became one of the family, and anapartment was appropriated to him, both in their house at Southwarkand in their villa at Streatham. " Long before this was written, Boswell had quarrelled with Mrs. Thrale(as it is most convenient to call her till her second marriage), andhe takes every opportunity of depreciating her. He might at least, however, have stated that, instead of sanctioning the "generalsupposition" as to the introduction, she herself supplied the accountof it which he adopts. In her "Anecdotes" she says: "The first time I ever saw this extraordinary man was in the year1764, when Mr. Murphy, who had long been the friend and confidentialintimate of Mr. Thrale, persuaded him to wish for Johnson'sconversation, extolling it in terms which that of no other personcould have deserved, till we were only in doubt how to obtain hiscompany, and find an excuse for the invitation. The celebrity of Mr. Woodhouse, a shoemaker, whose verses were at that time the subject ofcommon discourse, soon afforded a pretence[1], and Mr. Murphy broughtJohnson to meet him, giving me general caution not to be surprised athis figure, dress, or behaviour[1]. .. . Mr. Johnson liked his newacquaintance so much, however, that from that time he dined with usevery Thursday through the winter, and in the autumn of the next yearhe followed us to Brighthelmstone, whence we were gone before hisarrival; so he was disappointed and enraged, and wrote us a letterexpressive of anger, which we were very desirous to pacify, and toobtain his company again if possible. Mr. Murphy brought him back tous again very kindly, and from that time his visits grew morefrequent, till in the year 1766 his health, which he had alwayscomplained of, grew so exceedingly bad, that he could not stir out ofhis room in the court he inhabited for many weeks together, I thinkmonths. " [Footnote 1: "He (Johnson) spoke with much contempt of the noticetaken of Woodhouse, the poetical shoemaker. He said that it was allvanity and childishness, and that such objects were to those whopatronised them, mere mirrors of their own superiority. They hadbetter, said he, furnish the man with good implements for his trade, than raise subscriptions for his poems. He may make an excellentshoemaker, but can never make a good poet. A schoolboy's exercise maybe a pretty thing for a schoolboy, but it is no treat to aman. "--_Maxwell's Collectanea_. ] The "Anecdotes" were written in Italy, where she had no means ofreference. The account given in "Thraliana" has a greater air offreshness, and proves Boswell right as to the year. "It was on the second Thursday of the month of January, 1765, that Ifirst saw Mr. Johnson in a room. Murphy, whose intimacy with Mr. Thrale had been of many years' standing, was one day dining with usat our house in Southwark, and was zealous that we should beacquainted with Johnson, of whose moral and literary character hespoke in the most exalted terms; and so whetted our desire of seeinghim soon that we were only disputing _how_ he should be invited, _when_ he should be invited, and what should be the pretence. At lastit was resolved that one Woodhouse, a shoemaker, who had written someverses, and been asked to some tables, should likewise be asked toours, and made a temptation to Mr. Johnson to meet him: accordinglyhe came, and Mr. Murphy at four o'clock brought Mr. Johnson todinner. We liked each other so well that the next Thursday wasappointed for the same company to meet, exclusive of the shoemaker, and since then Johnson has remained till this day our constantacquaintance, visitor, companion, and friend. " In the "Anecdotes" she goes on to say that when she and her husbandcalled on Johnson one morning in Johnson's Court, Fleet Street, hegave way to such an uncontrolled burst of despair regarding the worldto come, that Mr. Thrale tried to stop his mouth by placing one handbefore it, and desired her to prevail on him to quit his closehabitation for a period and come with them to Streatham. He complied, and took up his abode with them from before Midsummer till afterMichaelmas in that year. During the next sixteen years a room in eachof their houses was set apart for him. The principal difficulty at first was to induce him to live peaceablywith her mother, who took a strong dislike to him, and constantly ledthe conversation to topics which he detested, such as foreign newsand politics. He revenged himself by writing to the newspapersaccounts of events which never happened, for the sole purpose ofmystifying her; and probably not a few of his mischievous fictionshave passed current for history. They made up their differencesbefore her death, and a Latin epitaph of the most eulogistic orderfrom his pen is inscribed upon her tomb. It had been well for Mrs. Thrale and her guests if there had existedno more serious objection to Johnson as an inmate. At thecommencement of the acquaintance, he was fifty-six; an age whenhabits are ordinarily fixed: and many of his were of a kind which itrequired no common temper and tact to tolerate or control. They hadbeen formed at a period when he was frequently subjected to the worstextremities of humiliating poverty and want. He describes Savage, without money to pay for a night's lodging in a cellar, walking aboutthe streets till he was weary, and sleeping in summer upon a bulk orin winter amongst the ashes of a glass-house. He was Savage'sassociate on several occasions of the sort. He told Sir JoshuaReynolds that, one night in particular, when Savage and he walkedround St. James's Square for want of a lodging, they were not at alldepressed; but in high spirits, and brimful of patriotism, traversedthe square for several hours, inveighed against the minister, and"resolved they would stand by their country. " Whilst at college hethrew away the shoes left at his door to replace the worn-out pair inwhich he appeared daily. His clothes were in so tattered a statewhilst he was writing for the "Gentleman's Magazine" that, instead oftaking his seat at Cave's table, he sate behind a screen and had hisvictuals sent to him. Talking of the symptoms of Christopher Smart's madness, he said, "Another charge was that he did not love clean linen; and I have nopassion for it. " His deficiency in this respect seems to have made a lastingimpression on his hostess. Referring to a couplet in "The Vanity ofHuman Wishes":-- "Through all his veins the fever of renown _Spreads_ from the strong contagion of the gown, " "he had desired me (says Boswell) to change _spreads_ into _burns. _ Ithought this alteration not only cured the fault, but was morepoetical, as it might carry an allusion to the shirt by whichHercules was inflamed. " She has written in the margin: "Every feverburns I believe; but Bozzy could think only on Nessus' dirty shirt, or Dr. Johnson's. " In another marginal note she disclaims thatattention to the Doctor's costume for which Boswell gives her credit, when, after relating how he had been called into a shop by Johnson toassist in the choice of a pair of silver buckles, he adds: "Probablythis alteration in dress had been suggested by Mrs. Thrale, byassociating with whom his external appearance was much improved. " Shewrites: "it was suggested by Mr. Thrale, not by his wife. " In general his wigs were very shabby, and their foreparts were burnedaway by the near approach of the candle, which his short-sightednessrendered necessary in reading. At Streatham, Mr. Thrale's valet hadalways a better wig ready, with which he met Johnson at the parlourdoor when dinner was announced, and as he went up stairs to bed, thesame man followed him with another. One of his applications to Cave for a trifling advance of money issigned _Impransus_ (Dinnerless); and he told Boswell that he couldfast two days without inconvenience, and had never been hungry butonce. What he meant by hungry is not easy to explain, for his everyday manner of eating was that of a half-famished man. When at table, he was totally absorbed in the business of the moment; his looks wereriveted to his plate, till he had satisfied his appetite; which wasindulged with such in-* tenseness, that the veins of his foreheadswelled, and generally a strong perspiration was visible. Until heleft off drinking fermented liquors altogether, he acted on the maxim"claret for boys, port for men, brandy for heroes. " He preferred thestrongest because he said it did its work (_i. E. _ intoxicate) thesoonest. He used to pour capillaire into his port wine, and meltedbutter into his chocolate. His favourite dishes are accuratelyenumerated by Peter Pindar: MADAME PIOZZI _(loquitur). _ "Dear Doctor Johnson loved a leg of pork, And hearty on it would his grinders work: He lik'd to eat it so much over done, That _one_ might shake the flesh from off the bone. A veal pye too, with sugar crammed and plums, Was wondrous grateful to the Doctor's gums. Though us'd from morn to night on fruit to stuff, He vow'd his belly never had enough. " Mr. Thackeray relates in his "Irish Sketches" that on his asking forcurrant jelly for his venison at a public dinner, the waiter replied, "It's all gone, your honour, but there's some capital lobster sauceleft. " This would have suited Johnson equally well, or better: he wasso fond of lobster sauce that he would call for the sauce-boat andpour the whole of its remaining contents over his plum pudding. Aclergyman who once travelled with him relates, "The coach halted asusual for dinner, which seemed to be a deeply interesting business toJohnson, who vehemently attacked a dish of stewed carp, using hisfingers only in feeding himself. " At the dinner when he passed hiscelebrated sentence on the leg of mutton--"That it was as bad as badcould be: ill-fed, ill-killed, ill-kept, and ill-dressed"--theladies, his fellow-passengers, observed his loss or equanimity withwonder. Two of Mrs. Thrale's marginal notes on Boswell refer to herillustrious friend's mode of eating. On his reported remark, that "adog will take a small bit of meat as readily as a large, when bothare before him, " she adds, "which Johnson would never have done. "When Boswell, describing the dinner with Wilkes at Davies', says, "Noman eat more heartily than Johnson, or loved better what was nice anddelicate, " she strikes in with--"What was gustful rather: what wasstrong that he could taste it, what was tender that he could chewit. " When Boswell describes him as occupied for a considerable time inreading the "Memoirs of Fontenelle, " leaning and swinging upon thelow gate into the court (at Streatham) without his hat, her note is:"I wonder how he liked the story of the asparagus, "--an obvious hintat his selfish habits of indulgence at table. With all this he affected great nicety of palate, and did not likebeing asked to a plain dinner. "It was a good dinner enough, " hewould remark, "but it was not a dinner to ask a man to. " He was sodispleased with the performances of a nobleman's French cook, that heexclaimed with vehemence, "I'd throw such a rascal into the river;"and in reference to one of his Edinburgh hosts he said, "As forMaclaurin's imitation of a made dish, it was a wretched attempt. " His voice was loud, and his gesticulations, voluntary or involuntary, singularly uncouth. He had superstitious fancies about crossingthresholds or squares in the carpet with the right or left legforemost, and when he did not appear at dinner might be found vainlyendeavouring to pass a particular spot in the anteroom. He loved latehours, or more properly (say Mrs. Thrale) hated early ones. Nothingwas more terrifying to him than the idea of going to bed, which henever would call going to rest, or suffer another to call it so. "Ilie down that my acquaintance may sleep; but I lie down to endureoppressive misery, and soon rise again to pass the night in anxietyand pain. " When people could be induced to sit up with him, they wereoften amply compensated by his rich flow of mind; but the resultingsacrifice of health and comfort in an establishment where thissitting up became habitual, was inevitably great. [1] Instead of beinggrateful, he always maintained that no one forbore his owngratification for the purpose of pleasing another, and "if one didsit up, it was probably to amuse oneself. " Boswell excuses his wifefor not coinciding in his enthusiasm, by admitting that hisillustrious friend's irregular hours and uncouth habits, such asturning the candles with their ends downwards when they did not burnbright enough, and letting the wax drop upon the carpet, could notbut be displeasing to a lady. He was generally last at breakfast, butone morning happened to be first and waited some time alone; whenafterwards twitted by Mrs. Thrale with irregularity, he replied, "Madam, I do not like to come down to vacuity. " [Footnote 1: Dr. Burney states that in 1765 "he very frequently metJohnson at Streatham, where they had many long conversations, aftersitting up as long as the fire and candles lasted, and much longerthan the patience of the servants subsisted. "] He was subject to dreadful fits of depression, caused or accompaniedby compunction for venial or fancied sins, by the fear of death ormadness--(the only things he did fear), and by ingrained ineradicabledisease. When Boswell speaks of his "striving against evil, " "Ay, "she writes in the margin, "and against the King's evil. " If his early familiarity with all the miseries of destitution, aggravated by disease, had increased his natural roughness andirritability, on the other hand it had helped largely to bring outhis sterling virtues, --his discriminating charity, his genuinebenevolence, his well-timed generosity, his large-hearted sympathywith real suffering. But he required it to be material and positive, and scoffed at mere mental or sentimental woes. "The sight of peoplewho want food and raiment is so common in great cities, that a surlyfellow like me has no compassion to spare for wounds given only tovanity or softness. " He said it was enough to make a plain man sickto hear pity lavished on a family reduced by losses to exchange afine house for a snug cottage; and when condolence was demanded for alady of rank in mourning for a baby, he contrasted her with awasherwoman with half-a-dozen children dependent on her daily labourfor their daily bread. [1] [Footnote 1: "It's weel wi' you gentles that can sit in the house wi'handkerchers at your een when ye lose a friend; but the like o' usmaun to our wark again, if our hearts were beating as hard as anyhammer. "--_The Antiquary_. For this very reason the "gentles"commonly suffer most. ] Lord Macaulay thus portrays the objects of Johnson's hospitality assoon as he had got a house to cover them. "It was the home of themost extraordinary assemblage of inmates that ever was broughttogether. At the head of the establishment he had placed an old ladynamed Williams, whose chief recommendations were her blindness andher poverty. But in spite of her murmurs and reproaches, he gave anasylum to another lady who was as poor as herself, Mrs. Desmoulins, whose family he had known many years before in Staffordshire. Roomwas found for the daughter of Mrs. Desmoulins, and for anotherdestitute damsel, who was generally addressed as Mrs. Carmichael, butwhom her generous host called Polly. An old quack doctor calledLevet, who bled and dosed coalheavers and hackney coachmen, andreceived for fees crusts of bread, bits of bacon, glasses of gin, andsometimes a little copper, completed this menagerie. "[1] [Footnote 1: Miscellaneous Writings, vol. I. P. 293. ] Mrs. Williams was the daughter of a physician, and of a good Welshfamily, who did not leave her dependent on Johnson. She is termed byMadame D'Arblay a very pretty poet, and was treated with uniformrespect by him. [1] All the authorities for the account of Levet werecollected by Hawkins[2]: from these it appears that his patients were"chiefly of the lowest class of tradesmen, " and that, although hetook all that was offered him by way of fee, including meat anddrink, he demanded nothing from the poor, nor was known in anyinstance to have enforced the payment of even what was justly hisdue. Hawkins adds that he (Levet) had acted for many years in thecapacity of surgeon and apothecary to Johnson under the direction ofDr. Lawrence. [Footnote 1: Miss Cornelia Knight, in her "Autobiography, " warmlyvindicates her respectability, and refers to a memoir, by LadyKnight, in the "European Magazine" for Oct. 1799. ] [Footnote 2: Life of Johnson, p. 396-400. ] "When fainting Nature called for aid, And hovering death prepared the blow, His vigorous remedy display'd The power of Art without the show; No summons mocked by chill delay, _No petty gains disdained by pride, _ The modest wants of every day The toil of every day supplied. " Johnson's verses, compared with Lord Macaulay's prose, strikinglyshew how the same subject can be degraded or elevated by the mode oftreatment; and how easily the historian or biographer, who expandshis authorities by picturesque details, may brighten or darkencharacters at will. To complete the picture of Johnson's interior, it should be addedthat the inmates of his house were quarrelling from, morning to nightwith one another, with his negro servant, or with himself. In one ofhis letters to Mrs. Thrale, he says, "Williams hates everybody: Levethates Desmoulins, and does not love Williams: Desmoulins hates themboth: Poll (Miss Carmichael) loves none of them. " In a conversationat Streatham, reported by Madame D'Arblay, the _menagerie_ was thushumorously described:-- "_Mrs. Thrale_. --Mr. Levet, I suppose, Sir, has the office of keepingthe hospital in health? for he is an apothecary. "_Dr. J_. --Levet, Madam, is a brutal fellow, but I have a good regardfor him; for his brutality is in his manners, not his mind. "_Mr. Thrale_. --But how do you get your dinners drest? "_Dr. J_. --Why De Mullin has the chief management of the kitchen; butour roasting is not magnificent, for we have no jack. "_Mr. T_. --No jack? Why how do they manage without? "_Dr. J_. --Small joints, I believe, they manage with a string, andlarger are done at the tavern. I have some thoughts (with a profoundgravity) of buying a jack, because I think a jack is some credit to ahouse. "_Mr. T_. --Well, but you will have a spit, too? "_Dr. J_. --No, Sir, no; that would be superfluous; for we shall neveruse it; and if a jack is seen, a spit will be presumed! "_Mrs. T_. --But pray, Sir, who is the Poll you talk of? She that youused to abet in her quarrels with Mrs. Williams, and call out, ' Ather again, Poll! Never flinch, Poll!' "_Dr. J_. --Why I took to Poll very well at first, but she won't doupon a nearer examination. "_Mrs. T_. --How came she among you, Sir? "_Dr. J_. --Why I don't rightly remember, but we could spare her verywell from us. Poll is a stupid slut; I had some hopes of her atfirst; but when I talked to her tightly and closely, I could makenothing of her; she was wiggle waggle, and I could never persuade herto be categorical. " The effect of an unbroken residence with such inmates, on a man ofirritable temper subject to morbid melancholy, may be guessed; andthe merit of the Thrales in rescuing him from it, and in soothingdown his asperities, can hardly be over-estimated. Lord Macaulaysays, they were flattered by finding that a man so widely celebratedpreferred their house to every other in London; and suggests thateven the peculiarities which seem to unfit him for civilised society, including his gesticulations, his rollings, his puffings, hismutterings, and the ravenous eagerness with which he devoured hisfood, increased the interest which his new associates took in him. His hostess does not appear to have viewed them in that light, andshe was able to command the best company of the intellectual orderwithout the aid of a "lion, " or a bear. If his conversation attractedmany, it drove away many, and silenced more. He accounted for thelittle attention paid him by the great, by saying that "great lordsand great ladies do not like to have their mouths stopped, " as ifthis was peculiar to them as a class. "My leddie, " remarks Cuddie in"Old Mortality, " "canna weel bide to be contradicted, as I kenneabody likes, if they could help themselves. " Johnson was in the zenith of his fame when literature, politics, andfashion began to blend together again by hardly perceptible shades, like the colours in shot-silk, as they had partially done in theAugustan age of Queen Anne. One marked sign was the formation of theLiterary Club (The Club, as it still claims to be called), whichbrought together Fox, Burke, Gibbon, Johnson, Goldsmith, Garrick, Reynolds, and Beauclerc, besides blackballing a bishop (the Bishop ofChester), and a lord-chancellor (Camden). [1] Yet it is curious toobserve within how narrow a circle of good houses the Doctor'sengagements were restricted. Reynolds, Paoli, Beauclerc, AllanRamsay, Hoole, Dilly, Strahan, Lord Lucan, Langton, Garrick, and theClub formed his main reliance as regards dinners; and we find Boswellrecording with manifest symptoms of exultation in 1781: "I dined withhim at a bishop's where were Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Berenger, andsome more company. He had dined the day before at another bishop's. "His reverence for the episcopal bench well merited some return ontheir part. Mr. Seward saw him presented to the Archbishop of York, and described his bow to an Archbishop as such a studied elaborationof homage, such an extension of limb, such a flexion of body, as haveseldom or ever been equalled. The lay nobility were not equallygrateful, although his deference for the peerage was extreme. Exceptin Scotland or on his travels, he is seldom found dining with anobleman. [Footnote 1: Canning was blackballed the first time he was proposed. He was elected in 1798, Mr. Windham being his proposer, and Dr. Burney his seconder. ] It is therefore hardly an exaggeration to say that he owed moresocial enjoyment to the Thrales than to all the rest of hisacquaintance put together. Holland House alone, and in its best days, would convey to persons living in our time an adequate conception ofthe Streatham circle, when it comprised Burke, Reynolds, Garrick, Goldsmith, Boswell, Murphy, Dr. Burney and his daughter, Mrs. Montagu, Mrs. Boscawen, Mrs. Crewe, Lord Loughborough, Dunning(afterwards Lord Ashburton), Lord Mulgrave, Lord Westcote, Sir Lucasand Mr. (afterwards Sir William) Pepys, Major Holroyd afterwards LordSheffield, the Bishop of London and Mrs. Porteous, the Bishop ofPeterborough and Mrs. Hinchcliffe, Miss Gregory, Miss Streatfield, &c. As at Holland House, the chief scene of warm colloquial contestor quiet interchange of mind was the library, a large and handsomeroom, which the pencil of Reynolds gradually enriched with portraitsof all the principal persons who had conversed or studied in it. Tosupply any deficiencies on the shelves, a hundred pounds, MadameD'Arblay states, was placed at Johnson's disposal to expend in books;and we may take it for granted that any new publication suggested byhim was ordered at once. But a bookish couple, surrounded by aliterary set, were surely not exclusively dependent on him for thisdescription of help, nor laid under any extraordinary obligation byreason of it. Whilst the "Lives of the Poets" was in progress, Dr. Johnson "would frequently produce one of the proof sheets toembellish the breakfast table, which was always in the library, andwas certainly the most sprightly and agreeable meeting of the day. ". .. "These proof sheets Mrs. Thrale was permitted to read aloud, andthe discussions to which they led were in the highest degreeentertaining. "[1] [Footnote 1: "Memoirs of Dr. Burney, " &c. , by his daughter, MadameD'Arblay. In three volumes, 1832. Vol. Ii. P. 173-178. ] It was mainly owing to his domestication with the Thrales that hebegan to frequent drawing-rooms at an age when the arm-chair at homeor at the club has an irresistible charm for most men of sedentarypursuits. It must be admitted that the evening parties in which hewas seen, afforded a chance of something better than the "unideadchatter of girls, " with an undue fondness for which he reproachedLangton; for the _Blue Stocking_ clubs had just come intofashion, --so called from a casual allusion to the blue stockings ofan _habitué_, Mr. Stillingfleet. [1] Their founders were Mrs. Veseyand Mrs. Montagu; but according to Madame D'Arblay, "more bland andmore gleeful than that of either of them, was the personal celebrityof Mrs. Thrale. Mrs. Vesey, indeed, gentle and diffident, dreamed notof any competition, but Mrs. Montagu and Mrs. Thrale had long beenset up as rival candidates for colloquial eminence, and each of themthought the other alone worthy to be her peer. Openly therefore whenthey met, they combated for precedence of admiration, with placidthough high-strained intellectual exertion on the one side, and anexuberant pleasantry or classical allusion or quotation on the other;without the smallest malice in either. " [Footnote 1: The first of these was then (about 1768) in the meridianof its lustre, but had been instituted many years previously at Bath, It owed its name to an apology made by Mr. Stillingfleet in decliningto accept an invitation to a literary meeting at Mrs. Vesey's, fromnot being, he said, in the habit of displaying a proper equipment foran evening assembly. "Pho, pho, " said she, "don't mind dress. Come inyour blue stockings. " With which words, humorously repeating them ashe entered the apartment of the chosen coterie, Mr. Stillingfleetclaimed permission for entering according to order. And these words, ever after, were fixed, in playful stigma, upon Mrs. Vesey'sassociations. _(Madame D'Arblay. )_ Boswell also traces the term toStillingfleet's blue stockings; and Hannah More's "Bas-Bleu" gave ita permanent place in literature. ] A different account of the origin of Bluestocking parties was givenby Lady Crewe to a lady who has allowed me to copy her note of theconversation, made at the time (1816): "Lady Crewe told me that her mother (Mrs. Greville), the Duchess ofPortland, and Mrs. Montagu were the first who began the conversationparties in imitation of the noted ones, _temp. _ Madame de Sevigne', at Rue St. Honore. Madame de Polignac, one of the first guests, camein blue silk stockings, then the newest fashion in Paris. Mrs. Greville and all the lady members of Mrs. Montagu's _club_, adoptedthe _mode_. A foreign gentleman, after spending an evening at Mrs. Montagu's _soirée_, wrote to tell a friend of the charmingintellectual party, who had one rule; 'they wear blue stockings as adistinction. '" Wraxall, who makes the same comparison, remarks: "Mrs. Thrale alwaysappeared to me to possess at least as much information, a mind ascultivated, and more brilliancy of intellect than Mrs. Montagu, butshe did not descend among men from such an eminence, and she talkedmuch more, as well as more unguardedly, on every subject. She was theprovider and conductress of Johnson, who lived almost constantlyunder her roof, or more properly under that of Mr. Thrale, both inTown and at Streatham. He did not, however, spare her more than otherwomen in his attacks if she courted and provoked his animadversions. " Although he seldom appeared to greater advantage than when under thecombined spell of feminine influence and rank, his demeanour variedwith his mood. On Miss Monkton's (afterwards Countess of Cork)insisting, one evening, that Sterne's writings were very pathetic, Johnson bluntly denied it. "I am sure, " she rejoined, "they haveaffected me. " "Why, " said Johnson, smiling and rolling himself about, "that is because, dearest, you're a dunce. " When she some timeafterwards mentioned this to him, he said, with equal truth andpoliteness, "Madam, if I had thought so, I certainly should not havesaid it. " He did not come off so well on another occasion, when the presence ofwomen he respected might be expected to operate as a cheek. Talking, at Mrs. Garrick's, of a very respectable author, he told us, saysBoswell, "a curious circumstance in his life, which was that he hadmarried a printer's devil. _Reynolds_. 'A printer's devil, Sir! why, I thought a printer's devil was a creature with a black face and inrags. ' _Johnson_. 'Yes, Sir. But I suppose he had her face washed, and put clean clothes on her. ' Then, looking very serious, and veryearnest. 'And she did not disgrace him;--the woman had a bottom ofgood sense. ' The word _bottom_ thus introduced was so ludicrous whencontrasted with his gravity, that most of us could not forbeartittering and laughing; though I recollect that the Bishop ofKillaloe kept his countenance with perfect steadiness, while MissHannah More slily hid her face behind a lady's back who sat on thesame settee with her. His pride could not bear that any expression ofhis should excite ridicule, when he did not intend it: he thereforeresolved to assume and exercise despotic power, glanced sternlyaround, and called out in a strong tone, 'Where's the merriment?'Then collecting himself, and looking awful, to make us feel how hecould impose restraint, and as it were searching his mind for a stillmore ludicrous word, he slowly pronounced, 'I say the _woman_ was_fundamentally_ sensible;' as if he had said, Hear this now, andlaugh if you dare. We all sat composed as at a funeral. " This resembles the influence exercised by the "great commoner" overthe House of Commons. An instance being mentioned of his throwing anadversary into irretrievable confusion by an arrogant expression ofcontempt, the late Mr. Charles Butler asked the relator, aneye-witness, whether the House did not laugh at the ridiculous figureof the poor member. "No, Sir, " was the reply, "we were too much awedto laugh. " It was a marked feature in Johnson's character that he was fond offemale society; so fond, indeed, that on coming to London he wasobliged to be on his guard against the temptations to which itexposed him. He left off attending the Green Room, telling Grarrick, "I'll come no more behind your scenes, Davy; for the silk stockingsand white bosoms of your actresses excite my amorous propensities. " The proneness of his imagination to wander in this forbidden field isunwittingly betrayed by his remarking at Sky, in support of thedoctrine that animal substances are less cleanly than vegetable: "Ihave _often_ thought that, if I kept a seraglio, the ladies shouldall wear linen gowns, or cotton, I mean stuffs made of vegetablesubstances. I would have no silks: you cannot tell when it is clean:it will be very nasty before it is perceived to be so; linen detectsits own dirtiness. " His virtue thawed instead of becoming more rigidin the North. "This evening, " records Boswell of their visit to anHebridean chief, "one of our married ladies, a lively pretty littlewoman, good-humouredly sat down upon Dr. Johnson's knee, and beingencouraged by some of the company, put her hands round his neck andkissed him. 'Do it again, ' said he, 'and let us see who will tirefirst. ' He kept her on his knee some time whilst he and she dranktea. " The Rev. Dr. Maxwell relates in his "Collectanea, " that "Two youngwomen from Staffordshire visited him when I was present, to consulthim on the subject of Methodism, to which they were inclined. 'Come, 'said he, 'you pretty fools, dine with Maxwell and me at the Mitre, and we will talk over that subject:' which they did, and after dinnerhe took one of them upon his knee, and fondled her for half an hourtogether. " [1] [Footnote 1: "Amongst his singularities, his love of conversing withthe prostitutes he met in the streets, was not the least. He has beenknown to carry some of these unfortunate creatures into a tavern, forthe sake of striving to awaken in them a proper sense of theircondition. I remember, he said, once asking one of them for whatpurpose she supposed her Maker had bestowed on her so much beauty. Her answer was, 'To please the gentlemen, to be sure; for what otherpurpose could it be given me?" _(Johnsoniana. )_ He once carried one, fainting from exhaustion, home on his back. ] Women almost always like men who like women; or as the phenomenon isexplained by Pope-- "Lust, through some certain strainers well refined, Is gentle love, and charms all womankind. " Johnson, despite of his unwieldy figure, scarred features and uncouthgestures, was a favourite with the fair, and talked of affairs of theheart as things of which he was entitled to speak from personalexperience as confidently as of any other moral or social topics. Hetold Mrs. Thrale, without the smallest consciousness of presumptionor what Mr. Square would term the unfitness of things, of his andLord Lyttleton's having contended for Miss Boothby's preference withan emulation that occasioned hearty disgust and ended in lastinganimosity. "You may see, " he added, when the Lives of the Poets wereprinted, "that dear Boothby is at my heart still. She would delightin that fellow Lyttleton's company though, all that I could do, and Icannot forgive even his memory the preference given by a mind likehers. " [1] [Footnote 1: In point of personal advantages the man of rank andfashion and the scholar were nearly on a par. "But who is this astride the pony, So long, so lean, so lank, so bony? Dat be de great orator, Littletony. "] Mr. Croker surmises that "Molly Aston, " not "dear Boothby, " must havebeen the object of this rivalry[1]; and the surmise is strengthenedby Johnson's calling Molly the loveliest creature he ever saw; adding(to Mrs. Thrale), "My wife was a little jealous, and happening oneday when walking in the country to meet a fortune-hunting gipsy, Mrs. Johnson made the wench look at my hand, but soon repented of hercuriosity, 'for, ' says the gipsy, 'your heart is divided between aBetty and a Molly: Betty loves you best, but you take most delight inMolly's company. ' When I turned about to laugh, I saw my wife wascrying. Pretty charmer, she had no reason. " This pretty charmer wasin her forty-eighth year when he married her, he being thentwenty-seven. He told Beauclerc that it was a love match on bothsides; and Garrick used to draw ludicrous pictures of their mutualfondness, which he heightened by representing her as short, fat, tawdrily dressed, and highly rouged. [Footnote 1: See "Croker's Boswell, " p. 672, and Malone's note in theprior edition. ] On the question whether "Molly Aston" or "dear Boothby" was the causeof his dislike of Lyttleton, one of Mrs. Piozzi's marginal notes isdecisive. "Mrs. Thrale (says Boswell) suggests that he was offendedby Molly Aston's preference of his lordship to him. " She retorts: "Inever said so. I believe Lord Lyttleton and Molly Aston were notacquainted. No, no: it was Miss Boothby whose preference he professedto have been jealous of, and so I said in the 'Anecdotes. '" One of Rochefoucauld's maxims is: "Young women who do not wish toappear _coquette_, and men of advanced years who do not wish toappear ridiculous, should never speak of love as of a thing in whichthey might take part. " Mrs. Thrale relates an amusing instance ofJohnson's adroitness in escaping from the dilemma: "As we had beensaying one day that no subject failed of receiving dignity from themanner in which Mr. Johnson treated it, a lady at my house said, shewould make him talk about love; and took her measures accordingly, deriding the novels of the day because they treated about love. 'Itis not, ' replied our philosopher, 'because they treat, as you callit, about love, but because they treat of nothing, that they aredespicable: we must not ridicule a passion which he who never felt, never was happy, and he who laughs at, never deserves to feel--apassion which has caused the change of empires, and the loss ofworlds--a passion which has inspired heroism and subdued avarice. ' Hethought he had already said too much. 'A passion, in short, ' addedhe, with an altered tone, 'that consumes me away for my pretty Fannyhere, and she 'is very cruel, ' speaking of another lady (Miss Burney)in the room. " As the high-flown language which he occasionally employed inaddressing or discussing women, has originated a theory that thebasis or essence of his character was romance, it may be as well tocontrast what he said in soberer moods on love. He remarked to Dr. Maxwell, that "its violence and ill-effects were much exaggerated;for who knows any real sufferings on that head, more than from theexorbitancy of any other passion?" On Boswell asking him whether hedid not suppose that there are fifty women in the world with any ofwhom a man may be as happy as with any one woman in particular, hereplied, "Ay, Sir, fifty thousand. I believe marriages would ingeneral be as happy, and often more so, if they were all made by thelord-chancellor upon a due consideration of the characters andcircumstances without the parties having any choice in the matter. "On another occasion he observed that sensible men rarely married forlove. These peculiarities throw light on more questions than one relatingto Johnson's prolonged intimacy and alleged quarrel with Mrs. Thrale. His gallantry, and the flattering air of deferential tenderness whichhe threw into his commerce with his female favourites, may have hadlittle less to do with his domestication at Streatham than hiscelebrity, his learning, or his wit. The most submissive wife willmanage to dislodge an inmate who is displeasing to her, "Aye, amarriage, man, " said Bucklaw to his led captain, "but whereforedroops thy mighty spirit? The board will have a corner, and thecorner will have a trencher, and the trencher will have a glassbeside it; and the board end shall be filled, and the trencher andthe glass shall be replenished for thee, if all the petticoats inLothian had sworn the contrary. " "So says many an honest fellow, "said Craigenfelt, "and some of my special friends; but curse me if Iknow the reason, the women could never bear me, and always contrivedto trundle me out before the honey-moon was over. "[1] [Footnote 1: Bride of Lammermoor. ] It was all very well for Johnson to tell Boswell, "I know no man whois more master of his wife and family than Thrale. If he holds up afinger, he is obeyed. " The sage never acted on the theory, andinstead of treating the wife as a cipher, lost no opportunity ofpaying court to her, though in a manner quite compatible with his ownlofty spirit of independence and self-respect. Thus, attention havingbeen called to some Italian verses by Baretti, he converted them intoan elegant compliment to her by an improvised paraphrase: "Viva! viva la padrona! Tutta bella, e tutta buona, La padrona e un angiolella Tutta buona e tutta bella; Tutta bella e tutta buona; Viva! viva la padrona!" "Long may live my lovely Hetty! Always young and always pretty; Always pretty, always young, Live my lovely Hetty long! Always young and always pretty; Long may live my lovely Hetty!" Her marginal note in the copy of the "Anecdotes" presented by her toSir James Fellowes in 1816 is:--"I heard these verses sung at Mr. Thomas's by three voices not three weeks ago. " It was in the eighth year of their acquaintance that Johnson solacedhis fatigue in the Hebrides by writing a Latin ode to her. "Aboutfourteen years since, " wrote Sir Walter Scott, in 1829, "I landed inSky with a party of friends, and had the curiosity to ask what wasthe first idea on every one's mind at landing. All answeredseparately that it was this ode. " Thinking Miss Cornelia Knight'sversion too diffuse, I asked Mr. Milnes for a translation orparaphrase, and he kindly complied by producing these spiritedstanzas: "Where constant mist enshrouds the rocks, Shattered in earth's primeval shocks, And niggard Nature ever mocks The labourer's toil, I roam through clans of savage men, Untamed by arts, untaught by pen; Or cower within some squalid den O'er reeking soil. Through paths that halt from stone to stone, Amid the din of tongues unknown, One image haunts my soul alone, Thine, gentle Thrale! Soothes she, I ask, her spouse's care? Does mother-love its charge prepare? Stores she her mind with knowledge rare, Or lively tale? Forget me not! thy faith I claim, Holding a faith that cannot die, That fills with thy benignant name These shores of Sky. " "On another occasion, " says Mrs. Thrale, in the "Anecdotes, " "I canboast verses from Dr. Johnson. As I went into his room the morning ofmy birthday once and said to him, 'Nobody sends me any verses now, because I am five-and-thirty years old; and Stella was fed with themtill forty-six, I remember. ' My being just recovered from illness andconfinement will account for the manner in which he burst outsuddenly, for so he did without the least previous hesitationwhatsoever, and without having entertained the smallest intentiontowards it half a minute before: "Oft in danger, yet alive, We are come to thirty-five; Long may better years arrive, Better years than thirty-five. Could philosophers contrive Life to stop at thirty-five, Time his hours should never drive O'er the bounds of thirty-five. High to soar, and deep to dive, Nature gives at thirty-five. Ladies, stock and tend your hive, Trifle not at thirty-five; For howe'er we boast and strive, Life declines from thirty-five; He that ever hopes to thrive Must begin by thirty-five; And all who wisely wish to wive Must look on Thrale at thirty-five. " "'And now, ' said he, as I was writing them down, 'you may see what itis to come for poetry to a dictionary-maker; you may observe that therhymes run in alphabetical order exactly. ' And so they do. " Byron's estimate of life at the same age, is somewhat different: "Too old for youth--too young, at thirty-five To herd with boys, or hoard with good threescore, I wonder people should he left alive. But since they are, that epoch is a bore. " Lady Aldborough, whose best witticisms unluckily lie under the samemerited ban as Rochester's best verses, resolved not to passtwenty-five, and had her passport made out accordingly till her deathat eighty-five. She used to boast that, whenever a foreign officialobjected, she never failed to silence him by the remark, that he wasthe first gentleman of his country who ever told a lady she was olderthan she said she was. Actuated probably by a similar feeling, and inthe hope of securing to herself the benefit of the doubt, Mrs. Thraleomitted in the "Anecdotes" the year when these verses were addressedto her, and a sharp controversy has been raised as to the respectiveages of herself and Dr. Johnson at the time. It is thus summed up byone of the combatants: "In one place Mr. Croker says that at the commencement of theintimacy between Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale, in 1765, the lady wastwenty-five years old. In other places he says that Mrs. Thrale'sthirty-fifth year coincided with Johnson's seventieth. Johnson wasborn in 1709. If, therefore, Mrs. Thrale's thirty-fifth yearcoincided with Johnson's seventieth, she could have been onlytwenty-one years old in 1765. This is not all. Mr. Croker, in anotherplace, assigns the year 1777 as the date of the complimentary lineswhich Johnson made on Mrs. Thrale's thirty-fifth birthday. If thisdate be correct Mrs. Thrale must have been born in 1742, and couldhave been only twenty-three when her acquaintance commenced. Mr. Croker, therefore, gives us three different statements as to her age. Two of the three must be incorrect. We will not decide betweenthem. "[1] [Footnote 1: Macaulay's Essays. ] Mr. Salusbury, referring to a china bowl in his possession, says:"The slip of paper now in it is in my father's handwriting, andcopied, I have heard him say, from the original slip, which was wornout by age and fingering. The exact words are, 'In this bason wasbaptised Hester Lynch Salusbury, 16th Jan. 1740-41 old style, atBodville in Carnarvonshire. '" The incident of the verses is thus narrated in "Thraliana": "And thisyear, 1777[1], when I told him that it was my birthday, and that Iwas then thirty-five years old, he repeated me these verses, which Iwrote down from his mouth as he made them. " If she was born in1740-41, she must have been thirty-six in 1777; and there is noperfectly satisfactory settlement of the controversy, which many willthink derives its sole importance from the two chiefcontroversialists. [Footnote 1: In one of her Memorandum books, 1776. ] The highest authorities differ equally about her looks. "My readers, "says Boswell, "will naturally wish for some representation of thefigures of this couple. Mr. Thrale was tall, well-proportioned, andstately. As for _Madam_, or _My Mistress_, by which epithets Johnsonused to mention Mrs. Thrale, she was short, plump, and brisk. " "Heshould have added, " observes Mr. Croker, "that she was very pretty. "This was not her own opinion, nor that of her cotemporaries, althoughher face was attractive from animation and expression, and herpersonal appearance pleasing on the whole. Sometimes, when visitingthe author of "Piozziana, "[1] she used to look at her little self, asshe called it, and spoke drolly of what she once was, as if speakingof some one else; and one day, turning to him, she exclaimed: "No, Inever was handsome: I had always too many strong points in my facefor beauty. " On his expressing a doubt of this, and hinting that Dr. Johnson was certainly an admirer of her personal charms, she repliedthat his devotion was at least as warm towards the table and thetable-cloth at Streatham. [Footnote 1: "Piozziana; or Recollections of the late Mrs. Piozzi, with Remarks. By a Friend. " (The Rev. E. Mangin. ) Moxon, 1833. Thesereminiscences, unluckily limited to the last eight or ten years ofher life at Bath, contain much curious information, and leave ahighly favourable impression of Mrs. Piozzi. ] One day when he was ill, exceedingly low-spirited, and persuaded thatdeath was not far distant, she appeared before him in a dark-colouredgown, which his bad sight, and worse apprehensions, made him mistakefor an iron-grey. "'Why do you delight, ' said he, 'thus to thickenthe gloom of misery that surrounds me? is not here sufficientaccumulation of horror without anticipated mourning?'--'This is notmourning, Sir!' said I, drawing the curtain, that the light mightfall upon the silk, and show it was a purple mixed withgreen. --'Well, well!' replied he, changing his voice; 'you littlecreatures should never wear those sort of clothes, however; they areunsuitable in every way. What! have not all insects gay colours?'" According to the author of "Piozziana, " who became acquainted withher late in life, "She was short, and though well-proportioned, broad, and deep-chested. Her hands were muscular and almost coarse, but her writing was, even in her eightieth year, exquisitelybeautiful; and one day, while conversing with her on the subject ofeducation, she observed that 'all Misses now-a-days, wrote so likeeach other, that it was provoking;' adding, 'I love to seeindividuality of character, and abhor sameness, especially in what isfeeble and flimsy. ' Then, spreading her hand, she said, 'I believe Iowe what you are pleased to call my good writing, to the shape ofthis hand, for my uncle, Sir Robert Cotton, thought it was too manlyto be employed in writing like a boarding-school girl; and so I cameby my vigorous, black manuscript. '" It was fortunate that the hand-writing compensated for the hands; andas she attached great importance to blood and race, that she did notlive to read Byron's "thoroughbred and tapering fingers, " or to beshocked by his theory that "the hand is almost the only sign of bloodwhich aristocracy can generate. " Her Bath friend appeals to aminiature (engraved for this work) by Roche, of Bath, taken when shewas in her seventy-seventh year. Like Cromwell, who told the painterthat if he softened a harsh line or so much as omitted a wart, heshould never be paid a sixpence, --she desired the artist to paint herface deeply rouged, which it always was[1], and to introduce atrivial deformity of the jaw, produced by a horse treading on her asshe lay on the ground after a fall. In this respect she provedsuperior to Johnson; who, with all his love of truth, could not bearto be painted with his defects. He was displeased at being drawnholding a pen close to his eye; and on its being suggested thatReynolds had painted himself holding his ear in his hand to catch thesound, he replied: "He may paint himself as deaf as he pleases, but Iwill not be Blinking Sam. " [Footnote 1: "One day I called early at her house, and as I enteredher drawing-room, she passed me, saying, 'Dear Sir, I will be withyou in a few minutes; but, while I think of it, I must go to mydressing-closet and paint my face, which I forgot to do thismorning. ' Accordingly she soon returned, wearing the requisitequantity of bloom; which, it must be noticed, was not in the leastlike that of youth and beauty. I then said that I was surprised sheshould so far sacrifice to fashion, as to take that trouble. Heranswer was that, as I might conclude, her practice of painting didnot proceed from any silly compliance with Bath fashion, or anyfashion; still less, if possible, from the desire of appearingyounger than she was, but from this circumstance, that in early lifeshe had worn rouge, as other young persons did in her day, as a partof dress; and after continuing the habit for some years, discoveredthat it had introduced a dull yellow colour into her complexion, quite unlike that of her natural skin, and that she wished to concealthe deformity. "--_Piozziana_. ] Reynolds' portrait of Mrs. Thrale conveys a highly agreeableimpression of her; and so does Hogarth's, when she sat to him for theprincipal figure in "The Lady's Last Stake. " She was then onlyfourteen; and he probably idealised his model; but that he alsoproduced a striking likeness, is obvious on comparing his picturewith the professed portraits. The history of this picture (which hasbeen engraved, at Lord Macaulay's suggestion, for this work) will befound in the Autobiography and the Letters. Boswell's account of his first visit to Streatham gives a tolerablyfair notion of the footing on which Johnson stood there, and themanner in which the interchange of mind was carried on between himand the hostess. This visit took place in October, 1769, four yearsafter Johnson's introduction to her; and Boswell's absence fromLondon, in which he had no fixed residence during Johnson's life, will hardly account for the neglect of his illustrious friend in notprocuring him a privilege which he must have highly coveted and woulddoubtless have turned to good account. "On the 6th of October I complied with this obliging invitation; andfound, at an elegant villa, six miles from town, every circumstancethat can make society pleasing. Johnson, though quite at home, wasyet looked up to with an awe, tempered by affection, and seemed to beequally the care of his host and hostess. I rejoiced at seeing him sohappy. " "Mrs. Thrale disputed with him on the merit of Prior. He attacked himpowerfully; said he wrote of love like a man who had never felt it;his love verses were college verses: and he repeated the song, 'Alexis shunn'd his fellow swains, ' &c. In so ludicrous a manner, asto make us all wonder how any one could have been pleased with suchfantastical stuff. Mrs. Thrale stood to her guns with great courage, in defence of amorous ditties, which Johnson despised, till he atlast silenced her by saving, 'My dear lady, talk no more of this. Nonsense can be defended but by nonsense. ' "Mrs. Thrale then praised Garrick's talents for light gay poetry;and, as a specimen, repeated his song in 'Florizel and Perdita, ' anddwelt with peculiar pleasure on this line:-- "'I'd smile with the simple, and feed with the poor. ' "_Johnson. _--'Nay, my dear lady, this will never do. Poor David!Smile with the simple!--what folly is that? And who would feed withthe poor that can help it? No, no; let me smile with the wise, andfeed with the rich. '" Boswell adds, that he repeated this sally toGlarrick, and wondered to find his sensibility as a writer not alittle irritated by it; on which Mrs. Thrale remarks, "How odd to goand tell the man!" The independent tone she took when she deemed the Doctorunreasonable, is also proved by Boswell in his report of what tookplace at Streatham in reference to Lord Marchmont's offer to supplyinformation for the Life of Pope: "Elated with the success of my spontaneous exertion to procurematerial and respectable aid to Johnson for his very favourite work, 'the Lives of the Poets, ' I hastened down to Mr. Thrale's, atStreatham, where he now was, that I might insure his being at homenext day; and after dinner, when I thought he would receive the goodnews in the best humour, I announced it eagerly: 'I have been at workfor you to-day, Sir. I have been with Lord Marchmont. He bade me tellyou he has a great respect for you, and will call on you to-morrow atone o'clock, and communicate all he knows about Pope. ' _Johnson. _ 'Ishall not be in town to-morrow. I don't care to know about Pope. '_Mrs. Thrale_ (surprised, as I was, and a little angry). 'I suppose, Sir, Mr. Boswell thought that as you are to write Pope's Life, youwould wish to know about him. ' _Johnson. _ 'Wish! why yes. If itrained knowledge, I'd hold out my hand; but I would not give myselfthe trouble to go in quest of it. ' There was no arguing with him atthe moment. Sometime afterwards he said, 'Lord Marchmont will callupon me, and then I shall call on Lord Marchmont. ' Mrs. Thrale wasuneasy at this unaccountable caprice: and told me, that if I did nottake care to bring about a meeting between Lord Marchmont and him, itwould never take place, which would be a great pity. " The ensuing conversation is a good sample of the freedom and varietyof "talk" in which Johnson luxuriated, and shows how important a partMrs. Thrale played in it: "Mrs. Thrale told us, that a curious clergyman of our acquaintance(Dr. Lort is named in the margin) had discovered a licentious stanza, which Pope had originally in his 'Universal Prayer, ' before thestanza, -- "'What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns us not to do, ' &c. It was this:-- "'Can sins of moment claim the rod Of everlasting fires? And that offend great Nature's God Which Nature's self inspires. " and that Dr. Johnson observed, it had been borrowed from _Guarini_. There are, indeed, in _Pastor Fido_, many such flimsy superficialreasonings as that in the last two lines of this stanza. "_Boswell_. 'In that stanza of Pope's, "_rod of fires_" is certainlya bad metaphor. ' _Mrs. Thrale_. 'And "sins of _moment_" is a faultyexpression; for its true import is _momentous_, which cannot beintended. ' _Johnson_. 'It must have been written "of _moments_. " Of_moment_, is _momentous_; of _moments, momentary_. I warrant you, however, Pope wrote this stanza, and some friend struck it out. ' "Talking of divorces, I asked if Othello's doctrine was notplausible:-- "'He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen, Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all. ' Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale joined against this. _Johnson_. 'Ask anyman if he'd wish not to know of such an injury. ' _Boswell_. 'Wouldyou tell your friend to make him unhappy?' _Johnson_. 'Perhaps, Sir, I should not: but that would be from prudence on my own account. Aman would tell his father. ' _Boswell_. 'Yes; because he would nothave spurious children to get any share of the family inheritance. '_Mrs. Thrale_. 'Or he would tell his brother. ' _Boswell_. 'Certainlyhis _elder_ brother. .. . Would you tell Mr. ----?' (naming a gentlemanwho assuredly was not in the least danger of so miserable a disgrace, though married to a fine woman). _Johnson_. 'No, Sir: because itwould do no good; he is so sluggish, he'd never go to Parliament andget through a divorce. '" _Marginal Note_: "Langton. " There is every reason to believe that her behaviour to Johnson wasuniformly marked by good-breeding and delicacy. She treated him witha degree of consideration and respect which he did not always receivefrom other friends and admirers. A foolish rumour having got into thenewspapers that he had been learning to dance of Vestris, it wasagreed that Lord Charlemont should ask him if it was true, and hislordship with (it is shrewdly observed) the characteristic spirit ofa general of Irish volunteers, actually put the question, whichprovoked a passing feeling of irritation. Opposite Boswell's accountof this incident she has written, "Was he not right in hating to beso treated? and would he not have been right to have loved me betterthan any of them, because I never did make a Lyon of him?" One great charm of her companionship to cultivated men was herfamiliarity with the learned languages, as well as with French, Italian, and Spanish. The author of "Piozziana" says: "She not onlyread and wrote Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, but had for sixty yearsconstantly and ardently studied the Scriptures and the works ofcommentators in the original languages. " She did not know Greek, andhe probably over-estimated her other acquirements, which Boswellcertainly underestimates when he speaks slightingly of them on thestrength of Johnson's having said: "It is a great mistake to supposethat she is above him (Thrale) in literary attainments. She is moreflippant, but he has ten times her learning: he is a regular scholar;but her learning is that of a school-boy in one of the lower forms. "If this were so, it is strange that Thrale should cut so poor afigure, should seem little better than a nonentity, whilst everyimaginable topic was under animated discussion at his table; forBoswell was more ready to report the husband's sayings than thewife's. In a marginal note on one of the printed letters she says:"Mr. Thrale was a very merry talking man in 1760; but the distress of1772, which affected his health, his hopes, and his whole soul, affected his temper too. Perkins called it being planet struck, and Iam not sure he was ever completely the same man again. " The notes ofhis conversation during the antecedent period are equally meagre. [1]He is described by Madame D'Arblay as taking a singular amusement inhearing, instigating, and provoking a war of words, alternatingtriumph and overthrow, between clever and ambitious colloquialcombatants. [Footnote 1: "Pray, Doctor, said a gentleman to Johnson, is Mr. Thrale a man of conversation, or is he only wise and silent?' 'Why, Sir, his conversation does not show the _minute_ hand; but hegenerally strikes the hour very correctly. '"--_Johnsoniana_. ] No one would have expected to find her as much at home in Greek andLatin authors as a man of fair ability who had received and profitedby an University education, but she could appreciate a classicalallusion or quotation, and translate off-hand a Latin epigram. "Mary Aston, " said Johnson, "was a beauty and a scholar, and a witand a whig; and she talked all in praise of liberty; and so I madethis epigram upon her. She was the loveliest creature I ever saw! "'Liber ut esse velim, suasisti, pulchra Maria, Ut maneam liber, pulchra Maria, vale!' "Will it do this way in English, Sir? (said Mrs. Thrale)-- "'Persuasions to freedom fall oddly from you, If freedom we seek, fair Maria, adieu. " Mr. Croker's version is:-- "'You wish me, fair Maria, to be free, Then, fair Maria, I must fly from thee. ' Boswell also has tried his hand at it; and a correspondent of the"Gentleman's Magazine" suggests that Johnson had in his mind anepigram on a young lady who appeared at a masquerade in Paris, habited as a Jesuit, during the height of the contention between theJansenists and Molinists concerning free will:-- "On s'étonne ici que Calviniste Eût pris l'habit de Moliniste, Puisque que cette jeune beauté Ôte à chacun sa liberté, N'est ce pas une Janséniste. "[1] [Footnote 1: "Menagiana, " vol. Iii. P. 376. Edition of 1716. Equallyhappy were Lord Chesterfield's lines to a young lady who appeared ata Dublin ball, with an orange breastknot:-- Mrs. Thrale took the lead even when her husband might be expected tostrike in, as when Johnson was declaiming paradoxically againstaction in oratory: "Action can have no effect on reasonable minds. Itmay augment noise, but it never can enforce argument. " _Mrs. Thrale_. "What then, Sir, becomes of Demosthenes' saying, Action, action, action?" _Johnson_. "Demosthenes, Madam, spoke to an assembly ofbrutes, to a barbarous people. " "The polished Athenians!" is hermarginal protest, and a conclusive one. In English literature she was rarely at fault. In "Pretty Tory, where's the jest To wear that riband on thy breast, When that same breast betraying shows The whiteness of the rebel rose?" White was adopted by the malcontent Irish as the French emblem. Johnson's epigram may have been suggested by Propertius: "Nullus liber erit si quis amare volet. "] reference to the flattery lavished on Garrick by Lord Mansfield andLord Chatham, Johnson had said, "When he whom everybody elseflatters, flatters me, then I am truly happy. " _Mrs. Thrale_. "Thesentiment is in Congreve, I think. " _Johnson_. "Yes, Madam, in 'TheWay of the World. ' "'If there's delight in love, 'tis when I see The heart that others bleed for, bleed for me. '" When Johnson is reported saying, "Those who have a style ofdistinguished excellence can always be distinguished, " she objects:"It seems not. The lines always quoted as Dryden's, beginning, 'To die is landing on some silent shore, ' are Garth's after all. " Johnson would have been still less pleased ather discovery that a line in his epitaph on Phillips, "Till angels wake thee with a note like thine, " was imitated from Pope's "And saints embrace thee with a love like mine. " In one of her letters to him (June, 1782) she writes: "Meantime letus be as _merry_ as reading Burton upon _Melancholy_ will make us. You bid me study that book in your absence, and now, what have Ifound? Why, I have found, or fancied, that he has been cruellyplundered: that Milton's first idea of 'L'Allegro' and 'Il Penseroso'were suggested by the verses at the beginning; that Savage's speechof Suicide in the 'Wanderer' grew up out of a passage you probablyremember towards the 216th page; that Swift's tale of the woman thatholds water in her mouth, to regain her husband's love by silence, had its source in the same farrago; and that there is an oddsimilitude between my Lord's trick upon Sly the Tinker, inShakspeare's 'Taming of the Shrew, ' and some stuff I have beenreading in Burton. " It would be easy to heap proof upon proof of the value and variety ofMrs. Thrale's contributions to the colloquial treasures accumulatedby Boswell and other members of the set; and Johnson's deliberatetestimony to her good qualities of head and heart will far more thancounterbalance any passing expressions of disapproval or reproof withher mistimed vivacity, or alleged disregard of scrupulous accuracy innarrative, may have called forth. No two people ever lived muchtogether for a series of years without many fretful, complaining, dissatisfied, uncongenial moments, --without letting drop captious orunkind expressions, utterly at variance with their habitual feelingsand their matured judgments of each other. The hasty word, thepassing sarcasm, the sly hit at an acknowledged foible, should countfor nothing in the estimate, when contrasted with earnest anddeliberate assurances, proceeding from one who was commonly too proudto flatter, and in no mood for idle compliment when he wrote. "Never (he writes in 1773) imagine that your letters are long; theyare always too short for my curiosity. I do not know that I was evercontent with a single perusal. .. . My nights are grown again veryuneasy and troublesome. I know not that the country will mend them;but I hope your company will mend my days. Though I cannot now expectmuch attention, and would not wish for more than can be spared fromthe poor dear lady (her mother), yet I shall see you and hear youevery now and then; and to see and hear you, is always to hear wit, and to see virtue. " He would not suffer her to be lightly spoken of in his presence, norpermit his name to be coupled jocularly with hers. "I yesterday toldhim, " says Boswell, when they were traversing the Highlands, "I wasthinking of writing a poetical letter to him, on his return fromScotland, in the style of Swift's humorous epistle in the characterof Mary Gulliver to her husband, Captain Lemuel Gulliver, on hisreturn to England from the country of the Houyhnhnms:-- "'At early morn I to the market haste, Studious in ev'ry thing to please thy taste. A curious _fowl_ and _sparagrass_ I chose; (For I remember you were fond of those:) Three shillings cost the first, the last seven groats; Sullen you turn from both, and call for OATS. ' He laughed, and asked in whose name I would write it. I said in Mrs. Thrale's. He was angry. 'Sir, if you have any sense of decency ordelicacy, you won't do that. ' _Boswell_. 'Then let it be in Cole's, the landlord of the Mitre tavern, where we have so often sattogether. ' _Johnson_. 'Ay, that may do. '" Again, at Inverary, when Johnson called for a gill of whiskey that hemight know what makes a Scotchman happy, and Boswell proposed Mrs. Thrale as their toast, he would not have _her_ drunk in whiskey. Peter Pindar has maliciously added to this reproof:-- "We supped most royally, were vastly frisky, When Johnson ordered up a gill of whiskey. Taking the glass, says I, 'Here's Mistress Thrale, ' 'Drink her in _whiskey_ not, ' said he, 'but _ale_. '" So far from making light of her scholarship, he frequently acceptedher as a partner in translations from the Latin. The translationsfrom Boethius, printed in the second volume of the Letters, are theirjoint composition. After recapitulating Johnson's other contributions to literature in1766, Boswell says, "'The Fountains, ' a beautiful little fairy talein prose, written with exquisite simplicity, is one of Johnson'sproductions; and I cannot withhold from Mrs. Thrale the praise ofbeing the author of that admirable poem 'The Three Warnings. '"_Marginal note_: "How sorry he is!" Both the tale and the poem werewritten for a collection of "Miscellanies, " published by Mrs. Williams in that year. The character of Floretta in "The Fountains"was intended for Mrs. Thrale, and she thus gracefully alludes to itin a letter to Johnson in Feb. 1782: "The newspapers would spoil my few comforts that are left if theycould; but you tell me that's only because I have the reputation, whether true or false, of being a _wit_ forsooth; and you remember_poor Floretta_, who was teased into wishing away her spirit, herbeauty, her fortune, and at last even her life, never could bear thebitter water which was to have washed away her wit; which sheresolved to keep with all its consequences. " Her fugitive pieces, mostly in verse, thrown off from time to time atall periods of her life, are numerous; and the best of them that havebeen recovered will be included in these volumes. In a letter to theauthor of "Piozziana, " she says:--"When Wilkes and Liberty were attheir highest tide, I was bringing or losing children every year; andmy studies were confined to my nursery; so, it came into my head oneday to send an infant alphabet to the 'St. James Chronicle':-- "'A was an Alderman, factious and proud; B was a Bellas that blustered aloud, &c. ' "In a week's time Dr. Johnson asked me if I knew who wrote it? 'Why, who did write it, Sir?' said I. 'Steevens, ' was the reply. Some timeafter that, years for aught I know, he mentioned to me Steevens'sveracity! 'No, no;' answered H. L. P. , anything but that;' and told mystory; showing him by incontestable proofs that it was mine. Johnsondid not utter a word, and we never talked about it any more. I durstnot introduce the subject; but it served to hinder S. From visitingat the house: I suppose Johnson kept him away. " It does not appear that Steevens claimed the Alphabet; which may havesuggested the celebrated squib that appeared in the "New Whig Guide, "and was popularly attributed to Mr. Croker. It was headed "ThePolitical Alphabet; or, the Young Member's A B C, " and begins: "A was an Althorpe, as dull as a hog: B was black Brougham, a surly cur dog: C was a Cochrane, all stripped of his lace. " What widely different associations are now awakened by these names!The sting is in the tail: "W was a Warre, 'twixt a wasp and a worm, But X Y and Z are not found in this form, Unless Moore, Martin, and Creevey be said (As the last of mankind) to be X Y and Z. " Amongst Miss Reynolds' "Recollections" will be found:--"On thepraises of Mrs. Thrale, he (Johnson) used to dwell with a peculiardelight, a paternal fondness, expressive of conscious exultation inbeing so intimately acquainted with her. One day, in speaking of herto Mr. Harris, author of 'Hermes, ' and expatiating on her variousperfections, --the solidity of her virtues, the brilliancy of her wit, and the strength of her understanding, &c. --he quoted some lines (astanza, I believe, but from what author I know not[1]), with which heconcluded his most eloquent eulogium, and of these I retained but thetwo last lines:-- 'Virtues--of such a generous kind, Pure in the last recesses of the mind. '" [Footnote 1: Dryden's Translation of Persius. ] The place assigned to Mrs. Thrale by the popular voice amongst themost cultivated and accomplished women of the day, is fixed by someverses printed in the "Morning Herald" of March 12th, 1782, whichattracted much attention. They were commonly attributed to Mr. (afterwards Sir W. W. ) Pepys, and Madame d'Arblay, who alludes to themcomplacently, thought them his; but he subsequently repudiated theauthorship, and the editor of her Memoirs believes that they werewritten by Dr. Burney. They were provoked by the proneness of theHerald to indulge in complimentary allusions to ladies of the demirepgenus: "Herald, wherefore thus proclaim Nought of women but the _shame_? Quit, oh, quit, at least awhile, Perdita's too luscious smile; Wanton Worsley, stilted Daly, Heroines of each blackguard alley; Better sure record in story Such as shine their sex's glory! Herald! haste, with me proclaim Those of literary fame. Hannah More's pathetic pen, Painting high th' impassion'd scene; Carter's piety and learning, Little Burney's quick discerning; Cowley's neatly pointed wit, Healing those her satires hit; Smiling Streatfield's iv'ry neck, Nose, and notions--_à la Grecque!_ Let Chapone retain a place, And the mother of her Grace[1], Each art of conversation knowing, High-bred, elegant Boscawen; Thrale, in whose expressive eyes Sits a soul above disguise, Skill'd with-wit and sense t'impart Feelings of a generous heart. Lucan, Leveson, Greville, Crewe; Fertile-minded Montagu, Who makes each rising art her care, 'And brings her knowledge from afar!' Whilst her tuneful tongue defends Authors dead, and absent friends; Bright in genius, pure in fame:-- Herald, haste, and these proclaim!" [Footnote 1: Mrs. Boscawen was the mother of the Duchess of Beaufortand Mrs. Leveson Gower: "All Leveson's sweetness, and all Beaufort's grace. "] These lines merit attention for the sake of the comparison theyinvite. An outcry has recently been raised against the laxity ofmodern fashion, in permitting venal beauty to receive open homage inour parks and theatres, and to be made the subject of prurient gossipby maids and matrons who should ignore its existence. But we need notlook far beneath the surface of social history to discover that theirregularity in question is only a partial revival of the practice ofour grandfathers and grandmothers, much as a crinoline may beregarded as a modified reproduction of the hoop. Junius thusdenounces the Duke of Grafton's indecorous devotion to Nancy Parsons:"It is not the private indulgence, but the public insult, of which Icomplain. The name of Miss Parsons would hardly have been known, ifthe First Lord of the Treasury had not led her in triumph through theOpera House, even in the presence of the Queen. " Lord March(afterwards Duke of Queensberry) was a lord of the bedchamber in thedecorous court of George the Third, when he wrote thus to Selwyn: "Iwas prevented from writing to you last Friday, by being at Newmarketwith my little girl (Signora Zamperini, a noted dancer and singer). Ihad the whole family and Cocchi. The beauty went with me in mychaise, and the rest in the old landau. " We have had Boswell's impression of his first visit to Streatham; andMadame D'Arblay's account of hers confirms the notion that MyMistress, not My Master, was the presiding genius of the place. "_London, August_ (1778). --I have now to write an account of the mostconsequential day I have spent since my birth: namely, my Streathamvisit. "Our journey to Streatham was the least pleasant part of the day, forthe roads were dreadfully dusty, and I was really in the fidgets fromthinking what my reception might be, and from fearing they wouldexpect a less awkward and backward kind of person than I was surethey would find. "Mr. Thrale's house is white, and very pleasantly situated, in a finepaddock. Mrs. Thrale was strolling about, and came to us as we gotout of the chaise. "She then received me, taking both my hands, and with mixedpoliteness and cordiality welcomed me to Streatham. She led me intothe house, and addressed herself almost wholly for a few minutes tomy father, as if to give me an assurance she did not mean to regardme as a show, or to distress or frighten me by drawing me out. Afterwards she took me up stairs, and showed me the house, and saidshe had very much wished to see me at Streatham, and should alwaysthink herself much obliged to Dr. Burney for his goodness in bringingme, which she looked upon as a very great favour. "But though we were some time together, and though she was so verycivil, she did not _hint_ at my book, and I love her much more thanever for her delicacy in avoiding a subject which she could not butsee would have greatly embarrassed me. "When we returned to the music-room, we found Miss Thrale was with myfather. Miss Thrale is a very fine girl, about fourteen years of age, but cold and reserved, though full of knowledge and intelligence. "Soon after, Mrs. Thrale took me to the library; she talked a littlewhile upon common topics, and then, at last, she mentioned 'Evelina. ' "I now prevailed upon Mrs. Thrale to let me amuse myself, and shewent to dress. I then prowled about to choose some book, and I saw, upon the reading-table, 'Evelina. ' I had just fixed upon a newtranslation of Cicero's 'Lælius, ' when the library door was opened, and Mr. Seward entered. I instantly put away my book, because Idreaded being thought studious and affected. He offered his serviceto find anything for me, and then, in the same breath, ran on tospeak of the book with which I had myself 'favoured the world!' "The exact words he began with I cannot recollect, for I was actuallyconfounded by the attack; and his abrupt manner of letting me know hewas _au fait_ equally astonished and provoked me. How different fromthe delicacy of Mr. And Mrs. Thrale!" A high French authority has laid down that good breeding consists inrendering to all what is socially their due. This definition isimperfect. Good breeding is best displayed by putting people at theirease; and Mrs. Thrale's manner of putting the young authoress at herease was the perfection of delicacy and tact. If Johnson's entrance on the stage had been premeditated, it couldhardly have been more dramatically ordered. "When we were summoned to dinner, Mrs. Thrale made my father and mesit on each side of her. I said that I hoped I did not take Dr. Johnson's place;--for he had not yet appeared. "'No, ' answered Mrs. Thrale, 'he will sit by you, which I am surewill give him great pleasure. ' "Soon after we were seated, this great man entered. I have so true aveneration for him, that the very sight of him inspires me withdelight and reverence, notwithstanding the cruel infirmities to whichhe is subject; for he has almost perpetual convulsive movements, either of his hands, lips, feet, or knees, and sometimes of alltogether. "Mrs. Thrale introduced me to him, and he took his place. We had anoble dinner, and a most elegant dessert. Dr. Johnson, in the middleof dinner, asked Mrs. Thrale what was in some little pies that werenear him. "'Mutton, ' answered she, 'so I don't ask you to eat any, because Iknow you despise it. ' "'No, Madam, no, ' cried he: 'I despise nothing that is good of itssort; but I am too proud now to eat of it. Sitting by Miss Burneymakes me very proud to-day!' "'Miss Burney, ' said Mrs. Thrale, laughing, 'you must take great careof your heart if Dr. Johnson attacks it; for I assure you he is notoften successless. ' "'What's that you say, Madam?' cried he; 'are you making mischiefbetween the young lady and me already?' "A little while after he drank Miss Thrale's health and mine, andthen added: "'Tis a terrible thing that we cannot wish young ladies well, withoutwishing them to become old women. '" Madame D'Arblay's memoirs are sadly defaced by egotism, and gratifiedvanity may have had a good deal to do with her unqualified admirationof Mrs. Thrale; for "Evelina" (recently published) was the unceasingtopic of exaggerated eulogy during the entire visit. Still so acutean observer could not be essentially wrong in an account of herreception, which is in the highest degree favourable to her newlyacquired friend. Of her second visit she says: "Our journey was charming. The kind Mrs. Thrale would give courage tothe most timid. She did not ask me questions, or catechise me uponwhat I knew, or use any means to draw me out, but made it herbusiness to draw herself out--that is, to start subjects, to supportthem herself, and take all the weight of the conversation, as if itbehoved her to find me entertainment. But I am so much in love withher, that I shall be obliged to run away from the subject, or shallwrite of nothing else. "When we arrived here, Mrs. Thrale showed me my room, which is anexceeding pleasant one, and then conducted me to the library, thereto divert myself while she dressed. "Miss Thrale soon joined me: and I begin to like her. Mr. Thrale wasneither well nor in spirits all day. Indeed, he seems not to be ahappy man, though he has every means of happiness in his power. But Ithink I have rarely seen a very rich man with a light heart and lightspirits. " The concluding remark, coming from such a source, may supply animproving subject of meditation or inquiry; if found true, it mayhelp to suppress envy and promote contentment. Thrale's state ofhealth, however, accounts for his depression independently of hiswealth, which rested on too precarious a foundation to allow ofunbroken confidence and gaiety. "At tea (continues the diarist) we all met again, and Dr. Johnson wasgaily sociable. He gave a very droll account of the children of Mr. Langton-- "'Who, ' he said, 'might be very good children if they were let alone;but the father is never easy when he is not making them do somethingwhich they cannot do; they must repeat a fable, or a speech, or theHebrew alphabet; and they might as well count twenty, for what theyknow of the matter: however, the father says half, for he promptsevery other word. But he could not have chosen a man who would havebeen less entertained by such means. ' "'I believe not!' cried Mrs. Thrale: 'nothing is more ridiculous thanparents cramming their children's nonsense down other people'sthroats. I keep mine as much out of the way as I can. ' "'Yours, Madam, ' answered he, 'are in nobody's way; no children canbe better managed or less troublesome; but your fault is, a too greatperverseness in not allowing anybody to give them anything. Whyshould they not have a cherry, or a gooseberry, as well as biggerchildren?' "Indeed, the freedom with which Dr. Johnson condemns whatever hedisapproves, is astonishing; and the strength of words he uses would, to most people, be intolerable; but Mrs. Thrale seems to have asweetness of disposition that equals all her other excellences, andfar from making a point of vindicating herself, she generallyreceives his admonitions with the most respectful silence. " But it must not be supposed that this was done without an effort. When Boswell speaks of Johnson's "accelerating her pulsation, " sheadds, "he checked it often enough, to be sure. " Another of the conversations which occurred during this visit ischaracteristic of all parties: "We had been talking of colours, and of the fantastic names given tothem, and why the palest lilac should be called a _soupir étouffé_. "'Why, Madam, ' said he, with wonderful readiness, 'it is called astifled sigh because it is checked in its progress, and only half acolour. ' "I could not help expressing my amazement at his universal readinessupon all subjects, and Mrs. Thrale said to him, "'Sir, Miss Burney wonders at your patience with such stuff; but Itell her you are used to me, for I believe I torment you with morefoolish questions than anybody else dares do. ' "'No, Madam, ' said he, 'you don't torment me;--you teaze me, indeed, sometimes. ' "'Ay, so I do, Dr. Johnson, and I wonder you bear with my nonsense. ' "'No, Madam, you never talk nonsense; you have as much sense, andmore wit, than any woman I know!' "'Oh, ' cried Mrs. Thrale, blushing, 'it is my turn to go under thetable this morning, Miss Burney!' "'And yet, ' continued the Doctor, with the most comical look, 'I haveknown all the wits, from Mrs. Montagu down to Bet Flint!' "'Bet Flint, ' cried Mrs. Thrale; 'pray who is she?' "'Oh, a fine character, Madam! She was habitually a slut and adrunkard, and occasionally a thief and a harlot. ' "'And, for heaven's sake, how came you to know her?' "'Why, Madam, she figured in the literary world, too! Bet Flint wroteher own life, and called herself Cassandra, and it was in verse. SoBet brought me her verses to correct; but I gave her a half-a-crown, and she liked it as well. ' "'And pray what became of her, Sir?' "'Why, Madam, she stole a quilt from the man of the house, and he hadher taken up: but Bet Flint had a spirit not to be subdued; so whenshe found herself obliged to go to jail, she ordered a sedan chair, and bid her footboy walk before her. However, the boy provedrefractory, for he was ashamed, though his mistress was not. ' "'And did she ever get out of jail again, Sir?' "'Yes, Madam; when she came to her trial, the judge acquitted her. "So now, " she said to me, "the quilt is my own, and now I'll make apetticoat of it. "[1] Oh, I loved Bet Flint!' "Bless me, Sir!' cried Mrs. Thrale, 'how can all these vagabondscontrive to get at _you_, of all people?' "'Oh the dear creatures!' cried he, laughing heartily, 'I can't butbe glad to see them!'" [Footnote 1: This story is told by Boswell, roy. 8vo, edit. P. 688. ] Madame D'Arblay's notes (in her Diary) of the conversation and modeof life at Streatham are full and spirited, and exhibit Johnson inmoods and situations in which he was seldom seen by Boswell. Theadroitness with which he divided his attentions amongst the ladies, blending approval with instruction, and softening contradiction orreproof by gallantry, gives plausibility to his otherwise paradoxicalclaim to be considered a polite man. [1] He obviously knew how to setabout it, and (theoretically at least) was no mean proficient in thatart of pleasing which attracts "Rather by deference than compliment, And wins e'en by a delicate dissent. " [Footnote 1: "When the company were retired, we happened to betalking of Dr. Barnard, the provost of Eton, who died about thattime; and after a long and just eulogium on his wit, his learning, and goodness of heart--'He was the only man, too, ' says Mr. Johnson, quite seriously, 'that did justice to my good breeding; and you mayobserve that I am well-bred to a degree of needless scrupulosity. Noman, ' continued he, not observing the amazement of his hearers, 'noman is so cautious not to interrupt another; no man thinks it sonecessary to appear attentive when others are speaking; no man sosteadily refuses preference to himself, or so willingly bestows it onanother, as I do; nobody holds so strongly as I do the necessity ofceremony, and the ill effects which follow the breach of it: yetpeople think me rude; but Barnard did me justice. '"--_Anecdotes_. "Ithink myself a very polite man, "--_Boswell_. 1778. ] Sir Henry Bulwer (in his "France") says that Louis the Fourteenth wasentitled to be called a man of genius, if only from the delicatebeauty of his compliments. Mrs. Thrale awards the palm of excellencein the same path to 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?""I am sure, " she adds, after a semblance of defence on his part, "Ihave had my share of scolding from you. " _Johnson_. "It is true, youhave, but you have borne it like an angel, and you have been thebetter for it. " As the discussion proceeds, he accuses her of oftenprovoking him to say severe things by unreasonable commendation; acommon mode of acquiring a character for amiability at the expense ofone's intimates, who are made to appear uncharitable by being thusconstantly placed on the depreciating side. Some years prior to this period (1778) Mrs. Thrale's mind andcharacter had undergone a succession of the most trying ordeals, andwas tempered and improved, without being hardened, by them. Inallusion to what she suffered in child-bearing, she said later inlife that she had nine times undergone the sentence of aconvict, --confinement with hard labour. Child after child died at theage when the bereavement is most affecting to a mother. Her husband'shealth kept her in a constant state of apprehension for his life, andhis affairs became embarrassed to the very verge of bankruptcy. Solong as they remained prosperous, he insisted on her not meddlingwith them in any way, and even required her to keep to herdrawing-room and leave the conduct of their domestic establishment tothe butler and housekeeper. But when (from circumstances detailed inthe "Autobiography") his fortune was seriously endangered, he wiselyand gladly availed himself of her prudence and energy, and was savedby so doing. I have now before me a collection of autograph lettersfrom her to Mr. Perkins, then manager and afterwards one of theproprietors of the brewery, from which it appears that she paid themost minute attention to the business, besides undertaking thesuperintendence of her own hereditary estate in Wales. On September28, 1773, she writes to Mr. Perkins, who was on a commercialjourney:-- "Mr. Thrale is still upon his little tour; I opened a letter from youat the counting-house this morning, and am sorry to find you have somuch trouble with Grant and his affairs. How glad I shall be to hearthat matter is settled at all to your satisfaction. His letter andremittance came while I was there to-day. .. . Careless, of the 'BluePosts, ' has turned refractory, and applied to Hoare's people, whohave sent him in their beer. I called on him to-day, however, and bydint of an unwearied solicitation, (for I kept him at the coach sidea full half-hour) I got his order for six butts more as the finaltrial. " Examples of fine ladies pressing tradesmen for their votes withcompromising importunity are far from rare, but it would be difficultto find a parallel for Johnson's Hetty doing duty as a commercialtraveller. She was simultaneously obliged to anticipate theelectioneering exploits of the Duchess of Devonshire and Mrs. Crewe;and in after life, having occasion to pass through Southwark, sheexpresses her astonishment at no longer recognising a place, everyhole and corner of which she had three times visited as a canvasser. After the death of Mr. Thrale, a friend of Mr. H. Thornton canvassedthe borough on behalf of that gentleman. He waited on Mrs. Thrale, who promised her support. She concluded her obliging expressions bysaying:--"I wish your friend success, and I think he will have it: hemay probably come in for two parliaments, but if he tries for athird, were he an angel from heaven, the people of Southwark wouldcry, 'Not _this_ man, but Barabbas. '"[1] [Footnote 1: Miss Laetitia Matilda Hawkins vouches for thisstory. --"Memoir, &c. " vol. I. P. 66, note, where she adds:--"I haveheard it said, that into whatever company she (Mrs. T. ) fell, shecould be the most agreeable person in it. "] On one of her canvassing expeditions, Johnson accompanied her, and arough fellow, a hatter by trade, seeing the moralist's hat in a stateof decay, seized it suddenly with one hand, and clapping him on theback with the other, cried out, "Ah, Master Johnson, this is no timeto be thinking about hats. " "No, no, Sir, " replied the Doctor, "hatsare of no use now, as you say, except to throw up in the air andhuzzah with;" accompanying his words with the true election halloo. Thrale had serious thoughts of repaying Johnson's electioneering aidin kind, by bringing him into Parliament. Sir John Hawkins says thatThrale had two meetings with the minister (Lord North), who at firstseemed inclined to find Johnson a seat, but eventuallydiscountenanced the project. Lord Stowell told Mr. Croker that LordNorth did not feel quite sure that Johnson's support might notsometimes prove rather an incumbrance than a help. "His lordshipperhaps thought, and not unreasonably, that, like the elephant in thebattle, he was quite as likely to trample down his friends as hisfoes. " Flood doubted whether Johnson, being long used to sententiousbrevity and the short flights of conversation, would have succeededin the expanded kind of argument required in public speaking. Burke'sopinion was, that if he had come early into Parliament, he would havebeen the greatest speaker ever known in it. Upon being told this byReynolds, he exclaimed, "I should like to try my hand now. " OnBoswell's adding that he wished he _had_, Mrs. Thrale writes:"Boswell had leisure for curiosity: Ministers had not. Boswell wouldhave been equally amused by his failure as by his success; but toLord North there would have been no joke at all in the experimentending untowardly. " He was equally ready with advice and encouragement during thedifficulties connected with the brewery. He was not of opinion withAristotle and Parson Adams, that trade is below a philosopher[1]; andhe eagerly buried himself in computing the cost of the malt and thepossible profits on the ale. In October 1772, he writes fromLichfield: [Footnote 1: "Trade, answered Adams, is below a philosopher, asAristotle proves in his first chapter of 'Politics, ' and unnatural, as it is managed now. "--_Joseph Andrews_. ] "Do not suffer little things to disturb you. The brew-house must bethe scene of action, and the subject of speculation. The firstconsequence of our late trouble ought to be, an endeavour to brew ata cheaper rate; an endeavour not violent and transient, but steadyand continual, prosecuted with total contempt of censure or wonder, and animated by resolution not to stop while more can be done. Unlessthis can be done, nothing can help us; and if this be done, we shallnot want help. Surely there is something to be saved; there is to besaved whatever is the difference between vigilance and neglect, between parsimony and profusion. The price of malt has risen again. It is now two pounds eight shillings the quarter. Ale is sold in thepublic-houses at sixpence a quart, a price which I never heard ofbefore. " In November of the same year, from Ashbourne: "DEAR MADAM, --So many days and never a letter!--_Fugere fides, pietasque pudorque_. This is Turkish usage. And I have been hopingand hoping. But you are so glad to have me out of your mind. [1] "I think you were quite right in your advice about the thousandpounds, for the payment could not have been delayed long; and a shortdelay would have lessened credit, without advancing interest. But ingreat matters you are hardly ever mistaken. " [Footnote 1: This tone of playful reproach, when adopted by Johnsonat a later period, has been cited as a proof of actualill-treatment. ] In May 17, 1773: "Why should Mr. T---- suppose, that what I took the liberty ofsuggesting was concerted with you? He does not know how much Irevolve his affairs, and how honestly I desire his prosperity. I hopehe has let the hint take some hold of his mind. " In the copy of the printed letters presented by Mrs. Thrale to SirJames Fellowes, the blank is filled up with the name of Thrale, andthe passage is thus annotated in her handwriting: "Concerning his (Thrale's) connection with quack chemists, quacks ofall sorts; jumping up in the night to go to Marlbro' Street fromSouthwark, after some advertising mountebank, at hazard of his life, "In "Thraliana": "18_th July_, 1778. --Mr. Thrale overbrewed himself last winter andmade an artificial scarcity of money in the family which hasextremely lowered his spirits. Mr. Johnson endeavoured last night, and so did I, to make him promise that he would never more brew alarger quantity of beer in one winter than 80, 000 barrels[1], but myMaster, mad with the noble ambition of emulating Whitbread andCalvert, two fellows that he despises, --could scarcely be prevailedon to promise even _this_, that he will not brew more than four scorethousand barrels a year for five years to come. He did promise thatmuch, however; and so Johnson bade me write it down in the'Thraliana';--and so the wings of Speculation are clipped alittle--very fain would I have pinioned her, but I had not strengthto perform the operation. " [Footnote 1: "If he got but 2_s. _ 6_d. _ by each barrel, 80, 000 halfcrowns are £10, 000; and what more would mortal man desire than anincome of ten thousand a year--five to spend, and five to lay up?"] That Johnson's advice was neither thrown away nor undervalued, may beinferred from an incident related by Boswell. Mr. Perkins had hung upin the counting-house a fine proof of the mezzotinto of Dr. Johnsonby Doughty; and when Mrs. Thrale asked him, somewhat flippantly, "Whydo you put him up in the counting-house?" Mr. Perkins answered, "Because, Madam, I wish to have one wise man there. " "Sir, " saidJohnson, "I thank you. It is a very handsome compliment, and Ibelieve you speak sincerely. " He was in the habit of paying the most minute attention to everybranch of domestic economy, and his suggestions are invariably markedby shrewdness and good sense. Thus when Mrs. Thrale was givingevening parties, he told her that though few people might be hungryafter a late dinner, she should always have a good supply of cakesand sweetmeats on a side table, and that some cold meat and a bottleof wine would often be found acceptable. Notwithstanding theimperfection of his eyesight, and his own slovenliness, he was acritical observer of dress and demeanour, and found fault withoutceremony or compunction when any of his canons of taste or proprietywere infringed. Several amusing examples are enumerated by Mrs. Thrale: "I commended a young lady for her beauty and pretty behaviour oneday, however, to whom I thought no objections could have been made. 'I saw her, ' said Dr. Johnson, 'take a pair of scissors in her lefthand though; and for all her father is now become a nobleman, and asyou say excessively rich, I should, were I a youth of quality tenyears hence, hesitate between a girl so neglected, and a _negro_. ' "It was indeed astonishing how he _could_ remark such minuteness witha sight so miserably imperfect; but no accidental position of ariband escaped him, so nice was his observation, and so rigorous hisdemands of propriety. When I went with him to Litchfield, and camedownstairs to breakfast at the inn, my dress did not please him, andhe made me alter it entirely before he would stir a step with usabout the town, saying most satirical things concerning theappearance I made in a riding-habit; and adding, ''Tis very strangethat such eyes as yours cannot discern propriety of dress: if I had asight only half as good, I think I should see to the centre. ' "Another lady, whose accomplishments he never denied, came to ourhouse one day covered with diamonds, feathers, &c. , and he did notseem inclined to chat with her as usual. I asked him why? when thecompany was gone. 'Why, her head looked so like that of a woman whoshows puppets, ' said he, 'and her voice so confirmed the fancy, thatI could not bear her to-day; when she wears a large cap, I can talkto her. ' "When the ladies wore lace trimmings to their clothes, he expressedhis contempt of the reigning fashion in these terms: 'A Brusselstrimming is like bread-sauce, ' said he, 'it takes away the glow ofcolour from the gown, and gives you nothing instead of it; but saucewas invented to heighten the flavour of our food, and trimming is anornament to the manteau, or it is nothing. Learn, ' said he, 'thatthere is propriety or impropriety in every thing how slight soever, and get at the general principles of dress and of behaviour; if youthen transgress them, you will at least know that they are notobserved. '" Madame D'Arblay confirms this account. He had just been finding faultwith a bandeau worn by Lady Lade, a very large woman, standing sixfeet high without her shoes: "_Dr. J. _--The truth is, women, take them in general, have no idea ofgrace. Fashion is all they think of. I don't mean Mrs. Thrale andMiss Burney, when I talk of women!--they are goddesses!--andtherefore I except them. "_Mrs. Thrale. _--Lady Lade never wore the bandeau, and said she neverwould, because it is unbecoming. "_Dr. J. (laughing. )_--Did not she? then is Lady Lade a charmingwoman, and I have yet hopes of entering into engagements with her! "_Mrs. T. _--Well, as to that I can't say; but to be sure, the onlysimilitude I have yet discovered in you, is in size: there you agreemighty well. "_Dr. J. _--Why, if anybody could have worn the bandeau, it must havebeen Lady Lade; for there is enough of her to carry it off; but youare too little for anything ridiculous; that which seems nothing upona Patagonian, will become very conspicuous upon a Lilliputian, and ofyou there is so little in all, that one single absurdity wouldswallow up half of you. " Matrimony was one of his favourite subjects, and he was fond oflaying down and refining on the duties of the married state, with theamount of happiness and comfort to be found in it. But once when hewas musing over the fire in the drawing-room at Streatham, a younggentleman called to him suddenly, "Mr. Johnson, would you advise meto marry?" "I would advise no man to marry, Sir, " replied the Doctorin a very angry tone, "who is not likely to propagate understanding;"and so left the room. "Our companion, " adds Mrs. Thrale, in the"Anecdotes, " "looked confounded, and I believe had scarce recoveredthe consciousness of his own existence, when Johnson came back, and, drawing his chair among us, with altered looks and a softened voice, joined in the general chat, insensibly led the conversation to thesubject of marriage, where he laid himself out in a dissertation souseful, so elegant, so founded on the true knowledge of human life, and so adorned with beauty of sentiment, that no one ever recollectedthe offence, except to rejoice in its consequences. " The young gentleman was Mr. Thrale's nephew, Sir John Lade; who wasproposed, half in earnest, whilst still a minor, by the Doctor as afitting mate for the author of "Evelina. " He married a woman of thetown, became a celebrated member of the Four-in-Hand Club, andcontrived to waste the whole of a fine fortune before he died. In "Thraliana" she says:--"Lady Lade consulted him about her son, SirJohn. 'Endeavour, Madam, ' said he, 'to procure him knowledge; forreally ignorance to a rich man is like fat to a sick sheep, it onlyserves to call the rooks about him. ' On the same occasion it was thathe observed how a mind unfurnished with subjects and materials forthinking can keep up no dignity at all in solitude. 'It is, ' says he, 'in the state of a mill without grist. '" The attractions of Streatham must have been very strong, to induceJohnson to pass so much of his time away from "the busy hum of men"in Fleet Street, and "the full tide of human existence" at CharingCross. He often found fault with Mrs. Thrale for living so much inthe country, "feeding the chickens till she starved herunderstanding. " Walking in a wood when it rained, she tells us, "wasthe only rural image he pleased his fancy with; for he would say, after one has gathered the apples in an orchard, one wishes them wellbaked, and removed to a London eating-house for enjoyment. " This isalmost as bad as the foreigner, who complained that there was no ripefruit in England but the roasted apples. Amongst other modes ofpassing time in the country, Johnson once or twice tried hunting and, mounted on an old horse of Mr. Thrale's, acquitted himself to thesurprise of the "field, " one of whom delighted him by exclaiming, "Why Johnson rides as well, for ought I see, as the most illiteratefellow in England. " But a trial or two satisfied him-- "He thought at heart like courtly Chesterfield, Who after a long chase o'er hills, dales, fields, And what not, though he rode beyond all price, Ask'd next day, 'If men ever hunted twice?'" It is very strange, and very melancholy, was his reflection, that thepaucity of human pleasures should persuade us ever to call huntingone of them. The mode of locomotion in which he delighted was thevehicular. As he was driving rapidly in a postchaise with Boswell, heexclaimed, "Life has not many things better than this. " On their wayfrom Dr. Taylor's to Derby in 1777, he said, "If I had no duties, andno reference to futurity, I would spend my life in driving briskly ina postchaise with a pretty woman, but she should be one who couldunderstand me, and would add something to the conversation. " Mr. Croker attributes his enjoyment to the novelty of the pleasure;his poverty having in early life prevented him from travelling post. But a better reason is given by Mrs. Thrale: "I asked him why he doated on a coach so? and received for answer, that in the first place, the company were shut in with him _there_;and could not escape, as out of a room; in the next place, he heardall that was said in a carriage, where it was my turn to be deaf; andvery impatient was he at my occasional difficulty of hearing. On thisaccount he wished to travel all over the world: for the very act ofgoing forward was delightful to him, and he gave himself no concernabout accidents, which he said never happened; nor did therunning-away of the horses at the edge of a precipice between Vernonand St. Denys in France convince him to the contrary: 'for nothingcame of it, ' he said, 'except that Mr. Thrale leaped out of thecarriage into a chalk-pit, and then came up again, looking as_white_!' When the truth was, all their lives were saved by thegreatest providence ever exerted in favour of three human creatures:and the part Mr. Thrale took from desperation was the likeliest thingin the world to produce broken limbs and death. " The drawbacks on his gratification and on that of his fellowtravellers were his physical defects, and his utter insensibility tothe beauty of nature, as well as to the fine arts, in so far as theywere addressed to the senses of sight and hearing. "He delighted, "says Mrs. Thrale, "no more in music than painting; he was almost asdeaf as he was blind; travelling with Dr. Johnson was, for thesereasons, tiresome enough. Mr. Thrale loved prospects, and wasmortified that his friend could not enjoy the sight of thosedifferent dispositions of wood and water, hill and valley, thattravelling through England and France affords a man. But when hewished to point them out to his companion: 'Never heed suchnonsense, ' would be the reply: 'a blade of grass is always a blade ofgrass, whether in one country or another: let us, if we _do_ talk, talk about something; men and women are my subjects of inquiry; letus see how these differ from those we have left behind. " It is no small deduction from our admiration of Johnson, and notrifling enhancement of his friends' kindness in tolerating hiseccentricities, that he seldom made allowance for his own palpableand undeniable deficiencies. As well might a blind man deny theexistence of colours, as a purblind man assert that there was nocharm in a prospect, or in a Claude or Titian, because he could seenone. Once, by way of pleasing Reynolds, he pretended to lament thatthe great painter's genius was not exerted on stuff more durable thancanvas, and suggested copper. Sir Joshua urged the difficulty ofprocuring plates large enough for historical subjects. "What foppishobstacles are these!" exclaimed Johnson. "Here is Thrale has athousand ton of copper: you may paint it all round if you will, Isuppose; it will serve him to brew in afterwards. Will it not, Sir?"(to Thrale, who sate by. ) He always "civilised" to Dr. Burney, who has supplied the followinganecdote: "After having talked slightingly of music, he was observed to listenvery attentively while Miss Thrale played on the harpsichord; andwith eagerness he called to her, 'Why don't you dash away likeBurney?' Dr. Burney upon this said to him, 'I believe, Sir, we shallmake a musician of you at last. ' Johnson with candid complacencyreplied, 'Sir, I shall be glad to have a new sense given to me. '" In 1774, the Thrales made a tour in Wales, mainly for the purpose ofrevisiting her birthplace and estates. They were accompanied byJohnson, who kept a diary of the expedition, beginning July 5th andending September 24th. It was preserved by his negro servant, andBoswell had no suspicion of its existence, for he says, "I do notfind that he kept any journal or notes of what he saw there. " Thediary was first published by Mr. Duppa in 1816; and some manuscriptnotes by Mrs. Thrale which reached that gentleman too late forinsertion, have been added in Mr. Murray's recent edition of theLife. The first entry is: "_Tuesday, July 5_. --We left Streatham 11 A. M. Price of four horsestwo shillings a mile. Barnet 1. 40 P. M. On the road I read 'Tully'sEpistles. ' At night at Dunstable. " At Chester, he records:--"Wewalked round the walls, which are complete, and contain one mile, three quarters, and one hundred and one yards. " Mrs. Thrale's commentis, "Of those ill-fated walls Dr. Johnson might have learned theextent from any one. He has since put me fairly out of countenance bysaying, 'I have known _my mistress_ fifteen years, and never saw herfairly out of humour but on Chester wall. ' It was because he wouldkeep Miss Thrale beyond her hour of going to bed to walk on the wall, where from the want of light, I apprehended some accident to her, perhaps to him. " He thus describes Mrs. Thrale's family mansion: "_Saturday, July 30. _--We went to Bâch y Graig, where we found an oldhouse, built 1567, in an uncommon and incommodious form--My mistresschatted about tiring, but I prevailed on her to go to the top--Thefloors have been stolen: the windows are stopped--The house was lessthan I seemed to expect--The River Clwyd is a brook with a bridge ofone arch, about one third of a mile--The woods have many trees, generally young; but some which seem to decay--They have beenlopped--The house never had a garden--The addition of another storywould make an useful house, but it cannot be great. " On the 4th August, they visited Rhuddlan Castle and Bodryddan[1], ofwhich he says:-- [Footnote 1: Now the property of Mr. Shipley Conway, thegreat-grandson of Johnson's acquaintance, the Bishop of St. Asaph, and representative, through females, of Sir John Conway or Conwy, towhom Rhuddlan Castle, with its domain, was granted by Edward theFirst. ] "Stapylton's house is pretty: there are pleasing shades about it, with a constant spring that supplies a cold bath. We then went out tosee a cascade. I trudged unwillingly, and was not sorry to find itdry. The water was, however, turned on, and produced a very strikingcataract. "[1] [Footnote 1: Bowles, the poet, on the unexpected arrival of a partyto see his grounds, was overheard giving a hurried order to set thefountain playing and carry the hermit his beard. ] Mrs. Piozzi remarks on this passage: "He teased Mrs. Cotton about herdry cascade till she was ready to cry. " Mrs. Cotton, _née_ Stapylton, married the eldest son of Sir LynchCotton, and was the mother of Field-Marshal Viscount Combermere. Shesaid that Johnson, despite of his rudeness, was at times delightful, having a manner peculiar to himself in relating anecdotes that couldnot fail to attract both old and young. Her impression was that Mrs. Thrale was very vexatious in wishing to engross all his attention, which annoyed him much. This, I fancy, is no uncommon impression, when we ourselves are anxious to attract notice. The range of hills bordering the valley or delta of the Clwyd, isvery fine. On their being pointed out to him by his host, heexclaimed: "Hills, do you call them?--mere mole-hills to the Alps orto those in Scotland. " On being told that Sir Richard Clough hadformed a plan for making the river navigable to Rhyddlan, he brokeout into a loud fit of laughter, and shouted--"why, Sir, I couldclear any part of it by a leap. " He probably had seen neither thehills nor the river, which might easily be made navigable. On two occasions, Johnson incidentally imputes a want of liberalityto Mrs. Thrale, which the general tenor of her conduct belies: "_August 2. _--We went to Dymerchion Church, where the old clerkacknowledged his mistress. It is the parish church of Bâch y Graig; amean fabric; Mr. Salusbury (Mrs. Thrale's father) was buried init. .. . The old clerk had great appearance of joy, and foolishly saidthat he was now willing to die. He had only a crown given him by mymistress. " "_August 4. _--Mrs. Thrale lost her purse. She expressed so muchuneasiness that I concluded the sum to be very great; but when Iheard of only seven guineas, I was glad to find she had so muchsensibility of money. " Johnson might have remarked, that the annoyance we experience from aloss is seldom entirely regulated by the pecuniary value of the thinglost. On the way to Holywell he sets down: "Talk with mistress aboutflattery;" on which she notes: "He said I flattered the people towhose houses we went: I was saucy and said I was obliged to be civilfor two, meaning himself and me. [1] He replied nobody would thank mefor compliments they did not understand. At Gwanynog (Mr. Middleton's), however, _he_ was flattered, and was happy of course. " [Footnote 1: Madame D'Arblay reports Mrs. Thrale saying to Johnson atStreatham, in September, 1778: "I remember, Sir, when we weretravelling in Wales, how you called me to account for my civility tothe people; 'Madam, ' you said, 'let me have no more of this idlecommendation of nothing. Why is it, that whatever you see, andwhoever 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!'"] The other entries referring to the Thrales are: "_August_ 22. --We went to visit Bodville, the place where Mrs. Thralewas born, and the churches called Tydweilliog and Llangwinodyl, whichshe holds by impropriation. " "_August_ 24. --We went to see Bodville. Mrs. Thrale remembered therooms, and wandered over them, with recollections of her childhood. This species of pleasure is always melancholy. .. . Mr. Thrale purposesto beautify the churches, and, if he prospers, will probably restorethe tithes. Mrs. Thrale visited a house where she had been used todrink milk, which was left, with an estate of 200_l. _ a year, by oneLloyd, to a married woman who lived with him. " "_August_ 26. --_Note_. Queeny's goats, 149, I think. " Without Mr. Duppa's aid this last entry would be a puzzle forcommentators. His note is: "Mr. Thrale was near-sighted, and could not see the goats browsing onSnowdon, and he promised his daughter, who was a child of ten yearsold, a penny for every goat she would show him, and Dr. Johnson keptthe account; so that it appears her father was in debt to her onehundred and forty-nine pence. _Queeny_ was an epithet, which had itsorigin in the nursery, by which (in allusion to _Queen_ Esther) MissThrale (whose name was Esther) was always distinguished by Johnson. "She was named, after her mother, Hester, not Esther. On September 13, Johnson sets down: "We came, to Lord Sandys', atOmbersley, where we were treated with great civility. " It was here, as he told Mrs. Thrale, that for the only time in his life he had asmuch wall fruit as he liked; yet she says that he was in the habit ofeating six or seven peaches before breakfast during the fruit seasonat Streatham. Swift was also fond of fruit: "observing (says Scott)that a gentleman in whose garden he walked with some friends, seemedto have no intention to request them to eat any, the Dean remarkedthat it was a saying of his dear grandmother: "'Always pull a peach When it is within your reach;' and helping himself accordingly, his example was followed by thewhole company. " Thomson, the author of the "Castle of Indolence, " wasonce seen lounging round Lord Burlington's garden, with his hands inhis waistcoat pockets, biting off the sunny sides of the peaches. Johnson's dislike to the Lyttletons was not abated by his visit toHagley, of which he says, "We made haste away from a place where allwere offended. " Mrs. Thrale's explanation is: "Mrs. Lyttelton, _ci-devant_ Caroline Bristow, forced me to play at whist against myliking, and her husband took away Johnson's candle that he wanted toread by at the other end of the room. Those, I trust, were theoffences. " He was not in much better humour at Combermere Abbey, the seat of herrelative, Sir Lynch Cotton, which is beautifully situated on one ofthe finest lakes in England. He commends the place grudgingly, passesa harsh judgment on Lady Cotton, and is traditionally recorded tohave made answer to the baronet who inquired what he thought of aneighbouring peer (Lord Kilmorey): "A dull, commonplace sort of man, just like you and your brother. " In a letter to Levet, dated Lleweny, in Denbighshire, August 16, 1774, printed by Boswell, is this sentence: "Wales, so far as I haveyet seen of it, is a very beautiful and rich country, all enclosedand planted. " Her marginal note is: "Yet to please Mr. Thrale, hefeigned abhorrence of it. " I am indebted to an intelligent and accurate in-formant for a curiousincident of the Welsh tour: "Dr. Johnson was taken by Mr. And Mrs. Thrale to dine at Maesnynan, with my relation, Mr. Lloyd, who, with his pretty young daughter(motherless), received them at the door. All came out of the carriageexcept the great lexicographer, who was crouching in what my unclejokingly called the Poets' Corner, deeply interested evidently withthe book he was reading. A wink from Mrs. Thrale, and a touch of herhand, silenced the host. She bade the coachman not move, and desiredthe people in the house to let Mr. Johnson read on till dinner was onthe table, when she would go and whistle him to it. She always had awhistle hung at her girdle, and this she used, when in Wales, tosummon him and her daughters[1], when in or out of doors. Mr. Lloydand all the visitors went to see the effect of the whistle, and foundhim reading intently with one foot on the step of the carriage, wherehe had been (a looker-on said) five minutes. " [Footnote 1: "He cast off his friends as a huntsman his pack, For he knew when he pleas'd he could whistle them back. "] "This scene is well told by Miss Burney, in her 'Camilla'[1] _exrelatione_ Mrs. Williams (Lady Cotton's sister, who was present) andBeata Lloyd, whose brother, Colonel Thomas Lloyd, of the Guards, wasthe Brummell of his day, celebrated for his manly beauty andaccomplishments. I heard Lord Crewe say that Colonel Lloyd's horse, and his graceful manner of mounting him, used to attract members ofboth Houses (he among them) to _turn out_ to see him mount guard; andthe Princesses were forbidden, when driving out, to go so often thatway and at that time. " [Footnote 1: Book viii. Chap, iv. , Dr. Orkborne is described standingon the staircase of an inn absorbed in the composition of a paragraphwhilst the party are at dinner. ] Their impressions of one another as travelling companions weresufficiently favourable to induce the party (with the addition ofBaretti) to make a short tour in France in the autumn of the yearfollowing, 1775, during part of which Johnson kept a diary in thesame laconic and elliptical style. The only allusion to either of hisfriends is: "We went to Sansterre, a brewer. He brews with about as much malt asMr. Thrale, and sells his beer at the same price, though he pays noduty for malt, and little more than half as much for beer. Beer issold retail at sixpence a bottle. " In a letter to Levet, dated Paris, Oct. 22, 1775, he says: "We went to see the king and queen at dinner, and the queen was soimpressed by Miss, that she sent one of the gentlemen to inquire whoshe was. I find all true that you have ever told me at Paris. Mr. Thrale is very liberal, and keeps us two coaches, and a very finetable; but I think our cookery very bad. Mrs. Thrale got into aconvent of English nuns, and I talked with her through the grate, andI am very kindly used by the English Benedictine friars. " A striking instance of Johnson's occasional impracticability occurredduring this journey: "When we were at Rouen together, " says Mrs. Thrale, "he took a greatfancy to the Abbe Kofiette, with whom he conversed about thedestruction of the order of Jesuits, and condemned it loudly, as ablow to the general power of the church, and likely to be followedwith many and dangerous innovations, which might at length becomefatal to religion itself, and shake even the foundation ofChristianity. The gentleman seemed to wonder and delight in hisconversation: the talk was all in Latin, which both spoke fluently, and Mr. Johnson pronounced a long eulogium upon Milton with so muchardour, eloquence, and ingenuity, that the abbé rose from his seatand embraced him. My husband seeing them apparently so charmed withthe company of each other, politely invited the abbé to England, intending to oblige his friend; who, instead of thanking, reprimandedhim severely before the man, for such a sudden burst of tendernesstowards a person he could know nothing at all of; and thus put asudden finish to all his own and Mr. Thrale's entertainment from thecompany of the Abbé Roffette. " In a letter dated May 9, 1780, also, Mrs. Thrale alludes to more thanone disagreement in France: "When did I ever plague you about contour, and grace, and expression?I have dreaded them all three since that hapless day at Compiegne, when you teased me so, and Mr. Thrale made what I hoped would haveproved a lasting peace; but French ground is unfavourable to fidelityperhaps, and so now you begin again: after having taken five years'breath, you might have done more than this. Say another word, and Iwill bring up afresh the history of your exploits at St. Denys andhow cross you were for nothing--but some how or other, our travelsnever make any part either of our conversation or correspondence. " Joseph Baretti, who now formed one of the family, is so mixed up withtheir history that some account of him becomes indispensable. He wasa Piedmontese, whose position in his native country was not of a kindto tempt him to remain in it, when Lord Charlemont, to whom he hadbeen useful in Italy, proposed his coming to England. His own storywas that he had lost at play the little property he had inheritedfrom his father, an architect. The education given him by his parentswas limited to Latin; he taught himself English, French, Spanish, andPortuguese. His talents, acquirements, and strength of mind must havebeen considerable, for they soon earned him the esteem and friendshipof the most eminent members of the Johnsonian circle, in despite ofhis arrogance. He came to England in 1753; is kindly mentioned in oneof Johnson's letters in 1754; and when he was in Italy in 1761, hisillustrious friend's letters to him are marked by a tone ofaffectionate interest. Ceremony and tenderness are oddly blended inthe conclusion of one of them: "May you, my Baretti, be very happy at Milan, or some other placenearer to, Sir, your most affectionate humble servant, SAMUELJOHNSON. " Johnson remarked of Baretti in 1768: "I know no man who carries hishead higher in conversation than Baretti. There are strong powers inhis mind. He has not indeed many hooks, but with what hooks he has, he grapples very forcibly. " Cornelia Knight was "disgusted by hissatirical madness of manner, " although admitting him to be a man ofgreat learning and information. Madame D'Arblay was more struck byhis rudeness and violence than by his intellectual vigour. "Thraliana" confirms Johnson's estimate of Baretti's capacity: "Will. Burke was tart upon Mr. Baretti for being too dogmatical inhis talk about politics. 'You have, ' says he, 'no business to beinvestigating the characters of Lord Falkland or Mr. Hampden. Youcannot judge of their merits, they are no countrymen of yours. ''True, ' replied Baretti, 'and you should learn by the same rule tospeak very cautiously about Brutus and Mark Antony; they are mycountrymen, and I must have their characters tenderly treated byforeigners. ' "Baretti could not endure to be called, or scarcely thought, aforeigner, and indeed it did not often occur to his company that hewas one; for his accent was wonderfully proper, and his languagealways copious, always nervous, always full of various allusions, flowing too with a rapidity worthy of admiration, and far beyond thepower of nineteen in twenty natives. He had also a knowledge of thesolemn language and the gay, could be sublime with Johnson, orblackguard with the groom; could dispute, could rally, could quibble, in our language. Baretti has, besides, some skill in music, with abass voice, very agreeable, besides a falsetto which he can manage soas to mimic any singer he hears. I would also trust his knowledge ofpainting a long way. These accomplishments, with his extensive powerover every modern language, make him a most pleasing companion whilehe is in good humour; and his lofty consciousness of his ownsuperiority, which made him tenacious of every position, and drew himinto a thousand distresses, did not, I must own, ever disgust me, till he began to exercise it against myself, and resolve to reign inour house by fairly defying the mistress of it. Pride, however, though shocking enough, is never despicable, but vanity, which hepossessed too, in an eminent degree, will sometimes make a man nearsixty ridiculous. "France displayed all Mr. Baretti's useful powers--he bustled for us, he catered for us, he took care of the child, he secured an apartmentfor the maid, he provided for our safety, our amusement, our repose;without him the pleasure of that journey would never have balancedthe pain. And great was his disgust, to be sure, when he caught us, as he often did, ridiculing French manners, French sentiments, &c. Ithink he half cryed to Mrs. Payne, the landlady at Dover, on ourreturn, because we laughed at French cookery, and Frenchaccommodations. Oh, how he would court the maids at the inns abroad, abuse the men perhaps! and that with a facility not to be exceeded, as they all confessed, by any of the natives. But so he could inSpain, I find, and so 'tis plain he could here. I will give oneinstance of his skill in our low street language. Walking in a fieldnear Chelsea, he met a fellow, who, suspecting him from dress andmanner to be a foreigner, said sneeringly, 'Come, Sir, will you showme the way to France?' 'No, Sir, ' says Baretti, instantly, 'but Iwill show you the way to Tyburn. ' Such, however, was his ignorance ina certain line, that he once asked Johnson for information who it wascomposed the Pater Noster, and I heard him tell Evans[1] the story ofDives and Lazarus as the subject of a poem he once had composed inthe Milanese dialect, expecting great credit for his powers ofinvention. Evans owned to me that he thought the man drunk, whereaspoor Baretti was, both in eating and drinking, a model of temperance. Had he guessed Evans's thoughts, the parson's gown would scarcelyhave saved him a knouting from the ferocious Italian. " [Footnote 1: Evans was a clergyman and rector of Southwark. ] On Oct. 20, 1769, Baretti was tried at the Old Bailey on a charge ofmurder, for killing with a pocket knife one of three men who, with awoman of the town, hustled him in the Haymarket. [1] He was acquitted, and the event is principally memorable for the appearance of Johnson, Burke, Grarrick, and Beauclerc as witnesses to character. Thesubstance of Johnson's evidence is thus given in the "Gentleman'sMagazine": [Footnote 1: In his defence, he said:--"I hope it will be seen thatmy knife was neither a weapon of offence or defence. I wear it tocarve fruit and sweetmeats, and not to kill my fellow creatures. Itis a general custom in France not to put knives on the table, so thateven ladies wear them in their pockets for general use. "] "_Dr. J_. --I believe I began to be acquainted with Mr. Baretti aboutthe year 1753 or 1754. I have been intimate with him. He is a man ofliterature, a very studious man, a man of great diligence. He getshis living by study. I have no reason to think he was ever disorderedwith liquor in his life. A man that I never knew to be otherwise thanpeaceable, and a man that I take to be rather timorous. --_Q_. Was headdicted to pick up women in the streets?--_Dr. J. I_ never knew thathe was. --_Q_. How is he as to eyesight?--_Dr. J. _ He does not see menow, nor do I see him. I do not believe he could be capable ofassaulting any body in the street, without great provocation. " It would seem that Johnson's sensibility, such as it was, was notvery severely taxed. "_Boswell_. --But suppose now, Sir, that one of your intimate friendswere apprehended for an offence for which he might be hanged? "_Johnson_. ---I should do what I could to bail him; but if he wereonce fairly hanged, I should not suffer. "_Boswell_. --Would you eat your dinner that day, Sir? "_Johnson_. --Yes, Sir, and eat it as if he were eating it with me. Why, there's Baretti, who is to be tried for his life to-morrow. Friends have risen up for him on every side, yet if he should behanged, none of them will eat a slice of plum-pudding the less. Sir, that sympathetic feeling goes a very little way in depressing themind. " Steevens relates that one evening previous to the trial aconsultation of Baretti's friends was held at the house of Mr. Cox, the solicitor. Johnson and Burke were present, and differed as tosome point of the defence. On Steevens observing to Johnson that thequestion had been agitated with rather too much warmth, "It may beso, " replied the sage, "for Burke and I should have been of oneopinion if we had had no audience. " This is coming very near to-- "Would rather that the man should die Than his prediction prove a lie. " Two anecdotes of Baretti during his imprisonment are preserved in"Thraliana": "When Johnson and Burke went to see Baretti in Newgate, they hadsmall comfort to give him, and bid him not hope too strongly. 'Whywhat can _he_ fear, ' says Baretti, placing himself between 'em, 'thatholds two such hands as I do?' "An Italian came one day to Baretti, when he was in Newgate formurder, to desire a letter of recommendation for the teaching of hisscholars, when he (Baretti) should be hanged. 'You rascal, ' repliesBaretti, in a rage, 'if I were not _in my own apartment_, I wouldkick you down stairs directly, '" The year after his acquittal Baretti published "Travels throughSpain, Portugal, and France;" thus mentioned by Johnson in a Letterto Mrs, Thrale, dated Lichfield, July 20, 1770: "That Baretti's book would please you all, I made no doubt. I knownot whether the world has ever seen such travels before. Those whoselot it is to ramble can seldom write, and those who know how to writecan seldom ramble. " The rate of pay showed that the world was awareof the value of the acquisition. He gained _500l. _ by this book. His"Frusta Letteraria, " published some time before in Italy, had alsoattracted much attention, and, according to Johnson, he was the firstwho ever received money for copyright in Italy, In a biographical notice of Baretti which appeared in the"Gentleman's Magazine" for May, 1789, written by Dr. Vincent, Dean ofWestminster, it is stated that it was not distress which compelledhim to accept Mr. Thrale's hospitality, but that he was overpersuadedby Johnson, contrary to his own inclination, to undertake theinstruction of the Misses Thrale in Italian. "He was either nine oreleven years almost entirely in that family, " says the Dean, "thoughhe still rented a lodging in town, during which period he expendedhis own _500l. _, and received nothing in return for his instruction, but the participation of a good table, and _150l. _ by way ofpresents. Instead of his letters to Mrs. Piozzi in the 'EuropeanMagazine, ' had he told this plain unvarnished tale, he would haveconvicted that lady of avarice and ingratitude, without incurring thedanger of a reply, or exposing his memory to be insulted by heradvocates. " He was less than three years in the family. As he had a pension of_80l. _ a year, besides the interest of his _500l. _, he did not wantmoney. If he had been allowed to want it, the charge of avarice wouldlie at Mr. , not Mrs. , Thrale's door; and his memory was exposed to noinsult beyond the stigma which (as we shall presently see) hisconduct and language necessarily fixed upon it. All his literaryfriends did not entertain the same high opinion of him. Anunpublished letter from Dr. Warton to his brother contains thefollowing passage: "He (Huggins, the translator of Ariosto) abuses Baretti infernally, and says that he one day lent Baretti a gold watch, and could neverget it afterwards; that after many excuses Baretti, skulked, and thengot Johnson to write to Mr. Huggins a suppliant letter; that thisletter stopped Huggins awhile, while Baretti got a protection fromthe Sardinian ambassador; and that, at last, with great difficulty, the watch was got from a pawnbroker to whom Baretti had sold it. " This extract is copied from a valuable contribution to the literaryannals of the eighteenth century, for which we are indebted to thecolonial press. [1] It is the diary of an Irish clergyman, containingstrong internal evidence of authenticity, although nothing more isknown of it than that the manuscript was discovered behind an oldpress in one of the offices of the Supreme Court of New South Wales. That such a person saw a good deal of Johnson in 1775, is proved byBoswell, whose accuracy is frequently confirmed in return. In onemarginal note Mrs. Thrale says: "He was a fine showy talking man. Johnson liked him of all things in a year or two. " In another: "Dr. Campbell was a very tall handsome man, and, speaking of some other_High_-bernian, used this expression: 'Indeed now, and upon my honour, Sir, I am but a Twitter to him. '"[2] [Footnote 1: Diary of a Visit to England in 1775. By an Irishman (theRev. Doctor Thomas Campbell, author of "A Philosophical Survey of theSouth of Ireland. ") And other Papers by the same hand. With Notes bySamuel Raymond, M. A. , Prothonotary of the Supreme Court of New SouthWales. Sydney. Waugh and Cox. 1854. ] [Footnote 2: He is similarly described in the "Letters, " vol. I. P. 329. ] Several of his entries throw light on the Thrale establishment: "_14th. _--This day I called at Mr. Thrale's, where I was receivedwith all respect by Mr. And Mrs. Thrale. She is a very learned lady, and joins to the charms of her own sex, the manly understanding ofours. The immensity of the brewery astonished me. " "_16th. _--Dined with Mr. Thrale along with Dr. Johnson, and Baretti. Baretti is a plain sensible man, who seems to know the world well. Hetalked to me of the invitation given him by the College of Dublin, but said it (100_l. _ a year and rooms) was not worth his acceptance;and if it had been, he said, in point of profit, still he would nothave accepted it, for that now he could not live out of London. Hehad returned a few years ago to his own country, but he could notenjoy it; and he was obliged to return to London, to those connexionshe had been making for near thirty years past. He told me he hadseveral families with whom, both in town and country, he could go atany time and spend a month: he is at this time on these terms at Mr. Thrale's, and he knows how to keep his ground. Talking as we were attea of the magnitude of the beer vessels, he said there was one thingin Mr. Thrale's house still more extraordinary;--meaning his wife. She gulped the pill very prettily, --so much for Baretti! "Johnson, you are the very man Lord Chesterfield describes: aHottentot indeed, and though your abilities are respectable, younever can be respected yourself! He has the aspect of an idiot, without the faintest ray of sense gleaming from any one feature--withthe most awkward garb, and unpowdered grey wig, on one side only ofhis head--he is for ever dancing the devil's jig, and sometimes hemakes the most driveling effort to whistle some thought in his absentparoxysms. " "_25th. _--Dined at Mr. Thrale's where there were ten or moregentlemen, and but one lady besides Mrs. Thrale. The dinner wasexcellent: first course, soups at head and foot, removed by fish anda saddle of mutton; second course, a fowl they call galena at head, and a capon larger than some of our Irish turkeys, at foot; thirdcourse, four different sorts of ices, pine-apple, grape, raspberry, and a fourth; in each remove there were I think fourteen dishes. Thetwo first courses were served in massy plate. I sat beside Baretti, which was to me the richest part of the entertainment. He and Mr. AndMrs. Thrale joined in expressing to me Dr. Johnson's concern that hecould not give me the meeting that day, but desired that I should goand see him. " "_April 1st. _--Dined at Mr. Thrale's, whom in proof of the magnitudeof London, I cannot help remarking, no coachman, and this is thethird I have called, could find without inquiry. But of this by theway. There was Murphy, Boswell, and Baretti: the two last, as Ilearned just before I entered, are mortal foes, so much so thatMurphy and Mrs. Thrale agreed that Boswell expressed a desire thatBaretti should be hanged upon that unfortunate affair of his killing, &c. Upon this hint, I went, and without any sagacity, it was easilydiscernible, for upon Baretti's entering Boswell did not rise, andupon Baretti's descry of Boswell he grinned a perturbed glance. Politeness however smooths the most hostile brows, and theirs weresmoothed. Johnson was the subject, both before and after dinner, forit was the boast of all but myself, that under that roof were theDoctor's fast friends. His _bon-mots_ were retailed in such plenty, that they, like a surfeit, could not lie upon my memory. " "N. B. The 'Tour to the Western Isles' was written an twenty days, andthe 'Patriot' in three; 'Taxation no Tyranny, ' within a week: and notone of them would have yet seen the light, had it not been for Mrs. Thrale and Baretti, who stirred him up by laying wagers. " "_April 8th. _--Dined with Thrale, where Dr. Johnson was, and Boswell(and Baretti as usual). The Doctor was not in as good spirits as hewas at Dilly's. He had supped the night before with Lady ----, MissJeffries, one of the maids of honour, Sir Joshua Reynolds, &c. , atMrs. Abington's. He said Sir C. Thompson, and some others who werethere, spoke like people who had seen good company, and so did Mrs. Abington herself, who could not have seen good company. " Boswell's note, alluding to the same topic, is: "On Saturday, April 8, I dined with him at Mr. Thrale's, where we metthe Irish Dr. Campbell. Johnson had supped the night before at Mrs. Abington's with some fashionable people whom he named; and he seemedmuch pleased with having made one in so elegant a circle. Nor did heomit to pique his _mistress_ a little with jealousy of herhousewifery; for he said, with a smile, 'Mrs. Abington's jelly, mydear lady, was better than yours. '" The next year is chiefly memorable for the separation from Baretti, thus mentioned in "Thraliana": "Baretti had a comical aversion to Mrs. Macaulay, and his aversionsare numerous and strong. If I had not once written his character inverse, [1] I would now write it in prose, for few people know himbetter: he was--_Dieu me pardonne_, as the French say--my inmate forvery near three years; and though I really liked the man once for histalents, and at last was weary of him for the use he made of them, Inever altered my sentiments concerning him; for his character iseasily seen, and his soul above disguise, haughty and insolent, andbreathing defiance against all mankind; while his powers of mindexceed most people's, and his powers of purse are so slight that theyleave him dependent on all. Baretti is for ever in the state of astream dammed up: if he could once get loose, he would bear down allbefore him. "Every soul that visited at our house while he was master of it, wentaway abhorring it; and Mrs. Montagu, grieved to see my meekness soimposed upon, had thoughts of writing me on the subject an anonymousletter, advising me to break with him. Seward, who tried at last toreconcile us, confessed his wonder that we had lived together solong. Johnson used to oppose and battle him, but never with his ownconsent: the moment he was cool, he would always condemn himself forexerting his superiority over a man who was his friend, a foreigner, and poor: yet I have been told by Mrs. Montagu that he attributed hisloss of our family to Johnson: ungrateful and ridiculous! if it hadnot been for his mediation, I would not so long have borne tramplingon, as I did for the last two years of our acquaintance. "Not a servant, not a child, did he leave me any authority over; if Iwould attempt to correct or dismiss them, there was instant appeal toMr. Baretti, who was sure always to be against me in every dispute. With Mr. Thrale I was ever cautious of contending, conscious that amisunderstanding there could never answer, as I have no friend orrelation in the world to protect me from the rough treatment of ahusband, should he chuse to exert his prerogatives; but when I sawBaretti openly urging Mr. Thrale to cut down some little fruit treesmy mother had planted and I had begged might stand, I confess I didtake an aversion to the creature, and secretly resolved his stayshould not be prolonged by my intreaties whenever his greatness choseto take huff and be gone. As to my eldest daughter, his behaviour wasmost ungenerous; he was perpetually spurring her to independence, telling her she had more sense and would have a better fortune thanher mother, whose admonitions she ought therefore to despise; thatshe ought to write and receive her own letters _now_, and not submitto an authority I could not keep up if she once had the spirit tochallenge it; that, if I died in a lying-in which happened while helived here, he hoped Mr. Thrale would marry Miss Whitbred, who wouldbe a pretty companion for Hester, and not tyrannical and overbearinglike me. Was I not fortunate to see myself once quit of a man likethis? who thought his dignity was concerned to set me at defiance, and who was incessantly telling lies to my prejudice in the ears ofmy husband and children? When he walked out of the house on the 6thday of July, 1776, I wrote down what follows in my table book. "_6 July, 1776. _--This day is made remarkable by the departure of Mr. Baretti, who has, since October, 1773, been our almost constantinmate, companion, and, I vainly hoped, our friend. On the 11th ofNovember, 1773, Mr. Thrale let him have _50l. _ and at our return fromFrance _50l. _ more, besides his clothes and pocket money: in returnto all this, he instructed our eldest daughter--or thought hedid--and puffed her about the town for a wit, a genius, a linguist, &c. At the beginning of the year 1776, we purposed visiting Italyunder his conduct, but were prevented by an unforeseen and heavycalamity: that Baretti, however, might not be disappointed of moneyas well as of pleasure, Mr. Thrale presented him with 100 guineas, which at first calmed his wrath a little, but did not, perhaps, makeamends for his vexation; this I am the more willing to believe, asDr. Johnson not being angry too, seemed to grieve him no little, after all our preparations made. "Now Johnson's virtue was engaged; and he, I doubt not, made it apoint of conscience not to increase the distresses of a familyalready oppressed with affliction. Baretti, however, from this timegrew sullen and captious; he went on as usual notwithstanding, makingStreatham his home, carrying on business there, when he thought hehad any to do, and teaching his pupil at by-times when he chose so toemploy himself; for he always took his choice of hours, and wouldoften spitefully fix on such as were particularly disagreeable to me, whom he has now not liked a long while, if ever he did. He professed, however, a violent attachment to our eldest daughter; said if _she_had died instead of her poor brother, he should have destroyedhimself, with many as wild expressions of fondness. Within these fewdays, when my back was turned, he would often be telling her that hewould go away and stay a month, with other threats of the samenature; and she, not being of a caressing or obliging disposition, never, I suppose, soothed his anger or requested his stay. "Of all this, however, I can know nothing but from _her_, who is veryreserved, and whose kindness I cannot so confide in as to be sure shewould tell me all that passed between them; and her attachment isprobably greater to him than me, whom he has always endeavoured tolessen as much as possible, both in her eyes and--what was worse--herfather's, by telling him how my parts had been over-praised byJohnson, and over-rated by the world; that my daughter's skill inlanguages, even at the age of fourteen, would vastly exceed mine, andsuch other idle stuff; which Mr. Thrale had very little care about, but which Hetty doubtless thought of great importance. Be this as itmay, no angry words ever passed between him and me, except perhapsnow and then a little spar or so when company was by, in the way ofraillery merely. "Yesterday, when Sir Joshua and Fitzmaurice dined here, I addressedmyself to him with great particularity of attention, begging hiscompany for Saturday, as I expected ladies, and said he must come andflirt with them, &c. My daughter in the meantime kept on telling methat Mr. Baretti was grown very old and very cross, would not look ather exercises, but said he would leave this house soon, for it was nobetter than Pandæmonium. Accordingly, the next day he packed up hiscloke-bag, which he had not done for three years, and sent it totown; and while we were wondering what he would say about it atbreakfast, he was walking to London himself, without taking leave ofany one person, except it may be the girl, who owns they had muchtalk, in the course of which he expressed great aversion to me andeven to her, who, he said, he once thought well of. "Now whether she had ever told the man things that I might have saidof him in his absence, by way of provoking him to go, and so ridherself of his tuition; whether he was puffed up with the last 100guineas and longed to be spending it _all' Italiano;_ whether hethought Mr. Thrale would call him back, and he should be betterestablished here than ever; or whether he really was idiot enough tobe angry at my threatening to whip Susan and Sophy for going out ofbounds, although _he_ had given them leave, for Hetty said that wasthe first offence he took huff at, I never now shall know, for henever expressed himself as an offended man to me, except one day whenhe was not shaved at the proper hour forsooth, and then I would notquarrel with him, because nobody was by, and I knew him be so vile alyar that I durst not trust his tongue with a dispute. He is gone, however, loaded with little presents from me, and with a large sharetoo of my good opinion, though I most sincerely rejoice in hisdeparture, and hope we shall never meet more but by chance. "Since our quarrel I had occasion to talk of him with Tom Davies, whospoke with horror of his ferocious temper; 'and yet, ' says I, 'thereis great sensibility about Baretti: I have seen tears often stand inhis eyes. ' 'Indeed, ' replies Davies, 'I should like to have seen thatsight vastly, when--even butchers weep. '" [Footnote 1: In "The Streatham Portraits. " (See Vol. II. )] His intractable character appears from his own account of therupture: "When Madam took it into her head to give herself airs, and treat mewith some coldness and superciliousness, I did not hesitate to setdown at breakfast my dish of tea not half drank, go for my hat andstick that lay in the corner of the room, turn my back to the house_insalutato hospite_, and walk away to London without uttering asyllable, fully resolved never to see her again, as was the caseduring no less than four years; nor had she and I ever met again asfriends if she and her husband had not chanced upon me after thatlapse of time at the house of a gentleman near Beckenham, and coaxedme into a reconciliation, which, as almost all reconciliations prove, was not very sincere on her side or mine; so that there was a totalend of it on Mr. Thrale's demise, which happened about three yearsafter. "[1] [Footnote 1: The European Magazine, 1788. ] The monotony of a constant residence at Streatham was varied by tripsto Bath or Brighton; and it was so much a matter of course forJohnson to make one of the party, that when (1776), not expecting himso soon back from a journey with Boswell, the Thrale family andBaretti started for Bath without him, Boswell is disposed to treattheir departure without the lexicographer as a slight: "This was not showing the attention which might have been expected tothe 'guide, philosopher, and friend;' the _Imlac_ who had hastenedfrom the country to console a distressed mother, who he understoodwas very anxious for his return. They had, I found, without ceremony, proceeded on their journey. I was glad to understand from him that itwas still resolved that his tour to Italy with Mr. And Mrs. Thraleshould take place, of which he had entertained some doubt, on accountof the loss which they had suffered; and his doubts afterwardsappeared to be well founded. He observed, indeed, very justly, that'their loss was an additional reason for their going abroad; and ifit had not been fixed that he should have been one of the party, hewould force them out; but he would not advise them unless his advicewas asked, lest they might suspect that he recommended what he wishedon his own account. ' I was not pleased that his intimacy with Mr. Thrale's family, though it no doubt contributed much to his comfortand enjoyment, was not without some degree of restraint[1]: not, ashas been grossly suggested[2], that it was required of him as a taskto talk for the entertainment of them and their company; but that hewas not quite at his ease: which, however, might partly be owing tohis own honest pride--that dignity of mind which is always jealous ofappearing too compliant. " [Footnote 1: (_Marginal note_). "What restraint can he mean? Johnsonkept every one else under restraint. "] [Footnote 2: (_Marginal note. _) "I do not believe it ever wassuggested. "] In his first letter of condolence on Mr. Thrale's death, Johnsonspeaks of her having enjoyed happiness in marriage, "to a degree ofwhich, without personal knowledge, I should have thought thedescription fabulous. " The "Autobiography" and "Thraliana" tell awidely different tale. The mortification of not finding herselfappreciated by her husband was poignantly increased, during the lastyears of his life, by finding another offensively preferred to her. He was so fascinated by one of her fair friends, as to lose sightaltogether of what was due to appearances or to the feelings of hiswife. A full account of the lady in question is given in the "Thraliana": "_Miss Streatfield_. --I have since heard that Dr. Collier picked up amore useful friend, a Mrs. Streatfield, a widow, high in fortune andrather eminent both for the beauties of person and mind; herchildren, I find, he has been educating; and her eldest daughter isjust now coming out into the world with a great character forelegance and literature. --_20 November, 1776. _" "_19 May, 1778. _--The person who wrote the title of this book at thetop of the page, on the other side--left hand--in the black letter, was the identical Miss Sophia Streatfield, mentioned in 'Thraliana, 'as pupil to poor dear Doctor Collier, after he and I had parted. Bythe chance meeting of some of the currents which keep this ocean ofhuman life from stagnating, this lady and myself were driven togethernine months ago at Brighthelmstone: we soon grew intimate from havingoften heard of each other, and I have now the honour and happiness ofcalling her my friend. Her face is eminently pretty; her carriageelegant; her heart affectionate, and her mind cultivated. There isabove all this an attractive sweetness in her manner, which claimsand promises to repay one's confidence, and which drew from me thesecret of my keeping a 'Thraliana, ' &c. &c. &c. " "_Jan. 1779. _--Mr. Thrale is fallen in love, really and seriously, with Sophy Streatfield; but there is no wonder in that; she is verypretty, very gentle, soft, and insinuating; hangs about him, dancesround him, cries when she parts from him, squeezes his hand slyly, and with her sweet eyes full of tears looks so fondly in hisface[1]--and all for love of me as she pretends; that I can hardly, sometimes, help laughing in her face. A man must not be a _man_ butan _it_, to resist such artillery. Marriott said very well, "'Man flatt'ring man, not always can prevail, But woman flatt'ring man, can never fail. ' "Murphy did not use, I think, to have a good opinion of me, but heseems to have changed his mind this Christmas, and to believe betterof me. I am glad on't to be sure: the suffrage of such a man is wellworth having: he sees Thrale's love of the fair S. S. I suppose:approves my silent and patient endurance of what I could not preventby more rough and sincere behaviour. " [Footnote 1: "And Merlin look'd and half believed her true, So tender was her voice, so fair her face, So sweetly gleam'd her eyes behind her tears, Like sunlight on the plain, behind a shower. " _Idylls of The King. --Vivien. _] "20 _January_, 1780. --Sophy Streatfield is come to town: she is inthe 'Morning Post' too, I see (to be in the 'Morning Post' is no goodthing). She has won Wedderburne's heart from his wife, I believe, andfew married women will bear _that_ patiently if I do; they will someof them wound her reputation, so that I question whether it canrecover. Lady Erskine made many odd inquiries about her to meyesterday, and winked and looked wise at her sister. The dear S. S. Must be a little on her guard; nothing is so spiteful as a womanrobbed of a heart she thinks she has a claim upon. She will not lose_that_ with temper, which she has taken perhaps no pains at all topreserve: and I do not observe with any pleasure, I fear, that myhusband prefers Miss Streatfield to me, though I must acknowledge heryounger, handsomer, and a better scholar. Of her chastity, however, Inever had a doubt: she was bred by Dr. Collier in the strictestprinciples of piety and virtue; she not only knows she will be alwayschaste, but she knows why she will be so. [1] Mr. Thrale is now bydint of disease quite out of the question, so I am a disinterestedspectator; but her coquetry is very dangerous indeed, and I wish shewere married that there might be an end on't. Mr. Thrale loves her, however, sick or well, better by a thousand degrees than he does meor any one else, and even now desires nothing on earth half so muchas the sight of his Sophia. "'E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries! E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires!' "The Saturday before Mr. Thrale was taken ill, Saturday, 19thFebruary--he was struck Monday, 21st February--we had a large partyto tea, cards, and supper; Miss Streatfield was one, and as Mr. Thrale sate by her, he pressed her hand to his heart (as she told meherself), and said 'Sophy, we shall not enjoy this long, and to-nightI will not be cheated of my only comfort. ' Poor soul! how shockinglytender! On the first Fryday that he spoke after his stupor, she cameto see him, and as she sate by the bedside pitying him, 'Oh, ' sayshe, 'who would not suffer even all that I have endured to be pitiedby you!' This I heard myself. " [Footnote 1: "Besides, her inborn virtue fortify, They are most firmly good, who best know why. "] "Here is Sophy Streatfield again, handsomer than ever, and flushedwith new conquests; the Bishop of Chester feels her power, I am sure;she showed me a letter from him that was as tender and had all thetokens upon it as strong as ever I remember to have seen 'em; Irepeated to her out of Pope's Homer--'Very well, Sophy, ' says I: "'Range undisturb'd among the hostile crew, But touch not Hinchliffe[1], Hinchliffe is my due. ' Miss Streatfield (says my master) could have quoted these lines inthe Greek; his saying so piqued me, and piqued me because it wastrue. I wish I understood Greek! Mr. Thrale's preference of her to menever vexed me so much as my consciousness--or fear at least--that hehas reason for his preference. She has ten times my beauty, and fivetimes my scholarship: wit and knowledge has she none. " [Footnote 1: For Hector. Hinchliffe was Bishop of Peterborough. ] "_May_, 1781. --Sophy Streatfield is an incomprehensible girl; herehas she been telling me such tender passages of what passed betweenher and Mr. Thrale, that she half frights me somehow, at the sametime declaring her attachment to Vyse yet her willingness to marryLord Loughborough. Good God! what an uncommon girl! and handsomealmost to perfection, I think: delicate in her manners, soft in hervoice, and strict in her principles: I never saw such a character, she is wholly out of my reach; and I can only say that the man whoruns mad for Sophy Streatfield has no reason to be ashamed of hispassion; few people, however, seem disposed to take her forlife--everybody's admiration, as Mrs. Byron says, and nobody'schoice. "_Streatham, January 1st_, 1782. --Sophy Streatfield has begun the newyear nicely with a new conquest. Poor dear Doctor Burney! _he_ is nowthe reigning favourite, and she spares neither pains nor caresses toturn that good man's head, much to the vexation of his family;particularly my Fanny, who is naturally provoked to see sport made ofher father in his last stage of life by a young coquet, whose soleemployment in this world seems to have been winning men's hearts onpurpose to fling them away. How she contrives to keep bishops, andbrewers, and doctors, and directors of the East India Company, all inchains so, and almost all at the same time, would amaze a wiserperson than me; I can only say let us mark the end! Hester willperhaps see her out and pronounce, like Solon, on her wisdom andconduct. " As this lady has excited great interest, and was much with theThrales, I will add what I have been able to ascertain concerningher. She is frequently mentioned in Madame D'Arblay's Diary: "_Streatham, Sept_. 1778. --To be sure she (Mrs. Thrale) saw it wasnot totally disagreeable to me; though I was really astounded whenshe hinted at my becoming a rival to Miss Streatfield in the Doctor'sgood graces. "'I had a long letter, ' she said, 'from Sophy Streatfield t'otherday, and she sent Dr. Johnson her elegant edition of the 'Classics;'but when he had read the letter, he said 'she is a sweet creature, and I love her much; but my little Burney writes a better letter. 'Now, ' continued she, 'that is just what I wished him to say of youboth. '" "_Streatham, Sept_. 1779. --Mr. Seward, you know, told me that she hadtears at command, and I begin to think so too, for when Mrs. Thrale, who had previously told me I should see her cry, began coaxing her tostay, and saying, 'If you go, I shall know you don't love me so wellas Lady Gresham, '--she did cry, not loud indeed, nor much, but thetears came into her eyes, and rolled down her fine cheeks. "'Come hither, Miss Burney, ' cried Mrs. Thrale; 'come and see MissStreatfield cry!' "I thought it a mere _badinage_. I went to them, but when I saw realtears, I was shocked, and saying, 'No, I won't look at her, ' ran awayfrightened, lest she should think I laughed at her, which Mrs. Thraledid so openly, that, as I told her, had she served me so, I shouldhave been affronted with her ever after. "Miss Streatfield, however, whether from a sweetness not to beruffled, or from not perceiving there was any room for takingoffence, gently wiped her eyes, and was perfectly composed!" "_Streatham, June_, 1779. --Seward, said Mrs. Thrale, had affrontedJohnson, and then Johnson affronted Seward, and then the S. S. Cried. "_Sir Philip_ (_Clerke_). --Well, I have heard so much of these tears, that I would give the universe to have a sight of them. "_Mrs. Thrale_. --Well, she shall cry again, if you like it. "_S. S. _. --No, pray, Mrs. Thrale. "_Sir Philip_. --Oh, pray do! pray let me see a little of it. "_Mrs. Thrale_. --Yes, do cry a little Sophy [in a wheedling voice], pray do! Consider, now, you are going to-day, and it's very hard ifyou won't cry a little: indeed, S. S. , you ought to cry. "Now for the wonder of wonders. When Mrs. Thrale, in a coaxing voice, suited to a nurse soothing a baby, had run on for some time, --whileall the rest of us, in laughter, joined in the request, --two crystaltears came into the soft eyes of the S. S. , and rolled gently down hercheeks! Such a sight I never saw before, nor could I have believed. She offered not to conceal or dissipate them: on the contrary, shereally contrived to have them seen by everybody. She looked, indeed, uncommonly handsome; for her pretty face was not, like Chloe's, blubbered; it was smooth and elegant, and neither her features norcomplexion were at all ruffled; nay, indeed, she was smiling all thetime. "'Look, look!' cried Mrs. Thrale; 'see if the tears are not comealready. ' "Loud and rude bursts of laughter broke from us all at once. How, indeed, could they be restrained?" "_Streatham, Sunday, June_ 13, 1779. --After church we all strolledround the grounds, and the topic of our discourse was MissStreatfield. Mrs. Thrale asserted that she had a power of captivationthat was irresistible; that her beauty, joined to her softness, hercaressing manners, her tearful eyes, and alluring looks, wouldinsinuate her into the heart of any man she thought worth attacking. "Sir Philip declared himself of a totally different opinion, andquoted Dr. Johnson against her, who had told him that, taking awayher Greek, she was as ignorant as a butterfly. "Mr. Seward declared her Greek was all against her with him, forthat, instead of reading Pope, Swift, or the Spectator--books fromwhich she might derive useful knowledge and improvement--it had ledher to devote all her reading time to the first eight books of Homer. "'But, ' said Mrs. Thrale, 'her Greek, you must own, has made all hercelebrity;--you would have heard no more of her than of any otherpretty girl, but for that. ' "'What I object to, ' said Sir Philip, 'is her avowed preference forthis parson. Surely it is very indelicate in any lady to let all theworld know with whom she is in love!" "'The parson, ' said the severe Mr. Seward, 'I suppose, spokefirst, --or she would as soon have been in love with you, or with me!' "You will easily believe I gave him no pleasant look. " The parson was the Rev. Dr. Vyse, Rector of Lambeth. He had made animprudent marriage early in life, and was separated from his wife, ofwhom he hoped to get rid either by divorce or by her death, as shewas reported to be in bad health. Under these circumstances, he hadentered into a conditional engagement with the fair S. S. ; buteventually threw her over, either in despair at his wife's longevityor from caprice. On the mention of his name by Boswell, Mrs. Piozziwrites opposite: "whose connection with Sophia Streatfield wasafterwards so much talked about, and I suppose never understood:certainly not at all by H. L. P. " To return to the D'Arblay Diary: "_Streatham, June_ 14, 1781. --We had my dear father and SophyStreatfield, who, as usual, was beautiful, caressing, amiable, sweet, and--fatiguing. " "_Streatham, Aug_. 1781. --Some time after Sophy Streatfield wastalked of, --Oh, with how much impertinence! as if she was at theservice of any man who would make proposals to her! Yet Mr. Sewardspoke of her with praise and tenderness all the time, as if, thoughfirmly of this opinion, he was warmly her admirer. From such admirersand such admiration Heaven guard me! Mr. Crutchley said but little;but that little was bitter enough. "'However, ' said Mr. Seward, 'after all that can be said, there isnobody whose manners are more engaging, nobody more amiable than thelittle Sophy; and she is certainly very pretty; I must own I havealways been afraid to trust myself with her. ' "Here Mr. Crutchley looked very sneeringly. "'Nay, 'squire, ' cried Mr. Seward, 'she is very dangerous, I can tellyou; and if she had you at a fair trial, she would make an impressionthat would soften-even your hard heart. ' "'No need of any further trial, ' said he, laughing, 'for she has donethat already; and so soft was the impression that it absolutely alldissolved!--melted quite away, and not a trace of it left!' "Mr. Seward then proposed that she should marry Sir John Miller, whohas just lost his wife; and very gravely said, he had a great mind toset out for Tunbridge, and carry her with him to Bath, and so makethe match without delay! "'But surely, ' said Mrs. Thrale, 'if you fail, you will thinkyourself bound in honour to marry her yourself?' "'Why, that's the thing, ' said he; 'no, I can't take the little Sophymyself; I should have too many rivals; rivals; no, that won't do. ' "How abominably conceited and _sure_ these pretty gentlemen are!However, Mr. Crutchley here made a speech that half won my heart. "'I wish, ' said he, 'Miss Streatfield was here at this moment to cuffyou, Seward!' "'Cuff me, ' cried he. 'What, the little Sophy!--and why?' "'For disposing of her so freely. I think a man deserves to be cuffedfor saying _any_ lady will marry him. ' "I seconded this speech with much approbation. " "_London, Jan. _ 1783. --Before they went came Miss Streatfield, looking pale, but very elegant and pretty. She was in high spirits, and I hope has some reason. She made, at least, speeches thatprovoked such surmises. When the Jacksons went, -- "'That, ' said I, 'is the celebrated Jackson of Exeter; I dare say youwould like him if you knew him. ' "'I dare say I should, ' cried she, simpering; 'for he has the tworequisites for me, --he is tall and thin. ' "To be sure, this did not at all call for raillery! Dr. Vyse hasalways been distinguished by these two epithets. I said, however, nothing, as my mother was present; but she would not let my lookspass unnoticed. "'Oh!' cried she, 'how wicked you look!--No need of seeing Mrs. Siddons for expression!--However, you know how much that is mytaste, --tall and thin!--but you don't know how _apropos_ it is justnow!'" Nine years after the last entry, we find: "_May_ 25, 1792. --We now met Mrs. Porteous; and who should be withher but the poor pretty S. S. , whom so long I had not seen, and whohas now lately been finally given up by her long-sought and veryinjurious lover, Dr. Vyse? "She is sadly faded, and looked disturbed and unhappy but stillbeautiful, though no longer blooming; and still affectionate, thoughabsent and evidently absorbed. We had a little chat together aboutthe Thrales. In mentioning our former intimacy with them, 'Ah, those, ' she cried, 'were happy times!' and her eyes glistened. Poorthing! hers has been a lamentable story!--Imprudence and vanity haverarely been mixed with so much sweetness, and good-humour, andcandour, and followed with more reproach and ill success. We agreedto renew acquaintance next winter; at present she will be little morein town. " In a letter to Madame D'Arblay, Oct. 20, 1820, Mrs. Piozzi says:"Fell, the bookseller in Bond Street, told me a fortnight or threeweeks ago, that Miss Streatfield lives where she did in hisneighbourhood, Clifford Street, S. S. Still. " On the 18th January, 1821: "'The once charming S. S. Had inquired for me of Nornaville andFell, the Old Bond Street book-sellers, so I thought she meditatedwriting, but was deceived. " The story she told the author of "Piozziana, " in proof of Johnson'swant of firmness, clearly refers to this lady: "I had remarked to her that Johnson's readiness to condemn any moraldeviation in others was, in a man so entirely before the public as hewas, nearly a proof of his own spotless purity of conduct. She said, 'Yes, Johnson was, on the whole, a rigid moralist; but he could beductile, I may say, servile; and I will give you an instance. We hada large dinner-party at our house; Johnson sat on one side of me, andBurke on the other; and in the company there was a young female (Mrs. Piozzi named her), to whom I, in my peevishness, thought Mr. Thralesuperfluously attentive, to the neglect of me and others; especiallyof myself, then near my confinement, and dismally low-spirited;notwithstanding which, Mr. T. Very unceremoniously begged of me tochange place with Sophy ----, who was threatened with a sore throat, and might be injured by sitting near the door. I had scarcelyswallowed a spoonful of soup when this occurred, and was so oversetby the coarseness of the proposal, that I burst into tears, saidsomething petulant--that perhaps ere long, the lady might be at thehead of Mr. T. 's table, without displacing the mistress of the house, &c. , and so left the apartment. I retired to the drawing-room, andfor an hour or two contended with my vexation, as I best could, whenJohnson and Burke came up. On seeing them, I resolved to give a_jobation_ to both, but fixed on Johnson for my charge, and asked himif he had noticed what passed, what I had suffered, and whetherallowing for the state of my nerves, I was much to blame? Heanswered, "Why, possibly not; your feelings were outraged. " I said, "Yes, greatly so; and I cannot help remarking with what blandness andcomposure you _witnessed_ the outrage. Had this transaction been toldof others, your anger would have known no bounds; but, towards a manwho gives good dinners &c. , you were meekness itself!" Johnsoncoloured, and Burke, I thought, looked foolish; but I had not a wordof answer from either. '" The only excuse for Mr. Thrale is to be found in his mental andbodily condition at the time, which made it impossible for Johnson orBurke to interfere without a downright quarrel with him, nor withoutmaking matters worse. This, however, is not the only instance inwhich Johnson witnessed Thrale's laxity of morals without reprovingit. Opposite the passage in which Boswell reports Johnson aspalliating infidelity in a husband by the remark, that the manimposes no bastards on his wife, she writes: "Sometimes he does. Johnson knew a man who did, and the lady took very tender care ofthem. " Madame D'Arblay was not uniformly such a source of comfort to her asthat lady supposed. The entries in "Thraliana" relating to her showthis: "_August, _ 1779. --Fanny Burney has been a long time from me; I wasglad to see her again; yet she makes me miserable too in manyrespects, so restlessly and apparently anxious, lest I should givemyself airs of patronage or load her with the shackles of dependance. I live with her always in a degree of pain that precludesfriendship--dare not ask her to buy me a ribbon--dare not desire herto touch the bell, lest she should think herself injured--lest sheshould forsooth appear in the character of Miss Neville, and I inthat of the widow Bromley. See Murphy's 'Know Your Own Mind. '" "Fanny Burney has kept her room here in my house seven days, with afever or something that she called a fever; I gave her every medicineand every slop with my own hand; took away her dirty cups, spoons, &c. ; moved her tables: in short, was doctor, and nurse and maid--forI did not like the servants should have additional trouble lest theyshould hate her for it. And now, --with the true gratitude of a wit, she tells me that the world thinks the better of me for my civilitiesto her. It does? does it?" "Miss Burney was much admired at Bath (1780); the puppy-men said, 'She had such a drooping air and such a timid intelligence;' or, 'atimid air, ' I think it was, ' and a drooping intelligence;' never surewas such a collection of pedantry and affectation as rilled Bath whenwe were on that spot. How everything else and everybody set off mygallant bishop. 'Quantum lenta solent inter viburna Cupressi. ' Of allthe people I ever heard read verse in my whole life, the best, themost perfect reader, is the Bishop of Peterboro' (Hinchcliffe. )"[1] [Footnote 1: In a marginal note on Boswell, she says: "The people (in1783) did read shamefully. Yet Mr. Lee, the poet, many years beforeJohnson was born, read so gracefully, the players would not accepthis tragedies till they had heard them from other lips: his own (theysaid) sweetened all which proceeded from them. " Speaker Onslowequally was celebrated for his manner of reading. ] "_July 1st_, 1780. --Mrs. Byron, who really loves me, was disgusted atMiss Burney's carriage to me, who have been such a friend andbenefactress to her: not an article of dress, not a ticket for publicplaces, not a thing in the world that she could not command from me:yet always insolent, always pining for home, always preferring themode of life in St. Martin's Street to all I could do for her. She isa saucy-spirited little puss to be sure, but I love her dearly forall that; and I fancy she has a real regard for me, if she did notthink it beneath the dignity of a wit, or of what she valuesmore--the dignity of Dr. Burnett's daughter--to indulge it. Suchdignity! the Lady Louisa of Leicester Square![1] In good time!" [Footnote 1: Alluding to a character in "Evelina. "] "1781. --What a blockhead Dr. Burney is to be always sending for hisdaughter home so! what a monkey! is she not better and happier withme than she can be anywhere else? Johnson is enraged at the sillinessof their family conduct, and Mrs. Byron disgusted; I confess myselfprovoked excessively, but I love the girl so dearly--and the Doctor, too, for that matter, only that he has such odd notions ofsuperiority in his own house, and will have his children under hisfeet forsooth, rather than let 'em live in peace, plenty, and comfortanywhere from home. If I did not provide Fanny with everywearable--every wishable, indeed, --it would not vex me to be servedso; but to see the impossibility of compensating for the pleasures ofSt. Martin's Street, makes one at once merry and mortified. "Dr. Burney did not like his daughter should learn Latin even ofJohnson, who offered to teach her for friendship, because then shewould have been as wise as himself forsooth, and Latin was toomasculine for Misses. A narrow-souled goose-cap the man must be atlast, agreeable and amiable all the while too, beyond almost anyother human creature. Well, mortal man is but a paltry animal! thebest of us have such drawbacks both upon virtue, wisdom, andknowledge. " In what his daughter calls a doggrel list of his friends and hisfeats, Dr. Burney has thus mentioned the Thrales: "1776. --This year's acquaintance began with the Thrales, Where I met with great talents 'mongst females and males, But the best thing it gave me 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. " Highly to her credit, Mrs. Thrale did not omit any part of her ownduties to her husband because he forgot his. In March, 1780, shewrites to Johnson: "I am willing to show myself in Southwark, or in any place, for mymaster's pleasure or advantage; but have no present conviction thatto be re-elected would be advantageous, so shattered a state as hisnerves are in just now. --Do not you, however, fancy for a moment, that I shrink from fatigue--or desire to escape from doing myduty;--spiting one's antagonist is a reason that never ought tooperate, and never does operate with me: I care nothing about a rivalcandidate's innuendos, I care only about my husband's health andfame; and if we find that he earnestly wishes to be once more memberfor the Borough--he _shall_ be member, if anything done or sufferedby me will help make him so. " In the May following she writes: "Meanwhile, Heaven send thisSouthwark election safe, for a disappointment would half kill myhusband, and there is no comfort in tiring every friend to death insuch a manner and losing the town at last. " This was an agitating month. In "Thraliana ": "_20th May_, 1780. --I got back to Bath again and staid there till theriots[1] drove us all away the first week in June: we made a dawdlingjourney, cross country, to Brighthelmstone, where all was likely tobe at peace: the letters we found there, however, shewed us how nearwe were to ruin here in the Borough: where nothing but theastonishing presence of mind shewed by Perkins in amusing the mobwith meat and drink and huzzas, till Sir Philip Jennings Clerke couldget the troops and pack up the counting-house bills, bonds, &c. Andcarry them, which he did, to Chelsea College for safety, --could havesaved us from actual undoing. The villains _had_ broke in, and ourbrewhouse would have blazed in ten minutes, when a property of£150, 000 would have been utterly lost, and its once flourishingpossessors quite undone. "Let me stop here to give God thanks for so very undeserved, soapparent, an interposition of Providence in our favour. "I left Mr. Thrale at Brighthelmstone and came to town again to seewhat was left to be done: we have now got arms and mean to defendourselves by force if further violence is intended. Sir Philip comesevery day at some hour or another--good creature, how kind he is! andhow much I ought to love him! God knows I am not in this case wantingto my duty. I have presented Perkins, with my Master's permission, with two hundred guineas, and a silver urn for his lady, with his owncypher on it and this motto--Mollis responsio, Iram avertit. " [Footnote 1: The Lord George Gordon Riots. ] In the spring of 1781, "I found, " says Boswell, "on visiting Mr. Thrale that he was now very ill, and had removed, I suppose by thesolicitation of Mrs. Thrale, to a house in Grosvenor Square. " She haswritten opposite: "Spiteful again! He went by direction of hisphysicians where they could easiest attend to him. " The removal to Grosvenor Square is thus mentioned in "Thraliana": "_Monday, January 29th_, 1781. --So now we are to spend this winter inGrosvenor Square; my master has taken a ready-furnished lodging-housethere, and we go in to-morrow. He frighted me cruelly a while ago; hewould have Lady Shelburne's house, one of the finest in London; hewould buy, he would build, he would give twenty to thirty guineas aweek for a house. Oh Lord, thought I, the people will sure enoughthrow stones at me now when they see a dying man go to such madexpenses, and all, as they will naturally think, to please a wifewild with the love of expense. This was the very thing I endeavouredto avoid by canvassing the borough for him, in hopes of being throughthat means tyed to the brewhouse where I always hated to live tillnow, that I conclude his constitution lost, and that the world willsay _I_ tempt him in his weak state of body and mind to take a finehouse for me at the flashy end of the town. " "He however, dearcreature, is as absolute, ay, and ten times more so, than ever, sincehe suspects his head to be suspected, and to Grosvenor Square we aregoing, and I cannot be sorry, for it will doubtless be comfortableenough to see one's friends commodiously, and I have long wished toquit _Harrow Corner_, to be sure; how could one help it? though I did "'Call round my casks each object of desire' all last winter: but it was a heavy drag too, and what signifiesresolving _never_ to be pleased? I will make myself comfortable in mynew habitation, and be thankful to God and my husband. " On February 7, 1781, she writes to Madame D'Arblay: "Yesterday I had a conversazione. Mrs. Montagu was brilliant indiamonds, solid in judgment, critical in talk. Sophy smiled, Piozzisung, Pepys panted with admiration, Johnson was good humoured, LordJohn Clinton attentive, Dr. Bowdler lame, and my master not asleep. Mrs. Ord looked elegant, Lady Rothes dainty, Mrs. Davenant dapper, and Sir Philip's curls were all blown about by the wind. Mrs. Byronrejoices that her Admiral and I agree so well; the way to his heartis connoisseurship it seems, and for a background and contorno, whocomes up to Mrs. Thrale, you know. " In "Thraliana": "_Sunday, March 18th_, 1781. --Well! Now I have experienced thedelights of a London winter, spent in the bosom of flattery, gayety, and Grosvenor Square; 'tis a poor thing, however, and leaves a voidin the mind, but I have had my compting-house duties to attend, mysick master to watch, my little children to look after, and how muchgood have I done in any way? Not a scrap as I can see; the pecuniaryaffairs have gone on perversely: how should they chuse [an omissionhere] when the sole proprietor is incapable of giving orders, yet notso far incapable as to be set aside! Distress, fraud, folly, meet meat every turn, and I am not able to fight against them all, thoughendued with an iron constitution, which shakes not by sleeplessnights or days severely fretted. "Mr. Thrale talks now of going to Spa and Italy again; how shall wedrag him thither? A man who cannot keep awake four hours at a stroke&c. Well! this will indeed be a tryal of one's patience; and who mustgo with us on this expedition? Mr. Johnson!--he will indeed be theonly happy person of the party; he values nothing _under_ heaven buthis own mind, which is a spark _from_ heaven, and that will beinvigorated by the addition of new ideas. If Mr. Thrale dies on theroad, Johnson will console himself by learning how it is to travelwith a corpse: and, after all, such reasoning is the truephilosophy--one's heart is a mere incumbrance--would I could leavemine behind. The children shall go to their sisters at Kensington, Mrs. Cumyns may take care of them all. God grant us a happy meetingsome _where_ and some _time_! "Baretti should attend, I think; there is no man who has so much ofevery language, and can manage so well with Johnson, is so tidy onthe road, so active top to obtain good accommodations. He is the manin the world, I think, whom I most abhor, and who _hates_ and_professes_ to _hate me_ the most; but what does that signifie? Hewill be careful of Mr. Thrale and Hester whom he _does_ love--and hewon't strangle _me_, I suppose. Somebody we _must_ have. Croza wouldcourt our daughter, and Piozzi could not talk to Johnson, nor, Isuppose, do one any good but sing to one, --and how should we _singsongs in a strange land_? Baretti must be the man, and I will beg itof him as a favour. Oh, the triumph he will have! and the lyes hewill tell!" Thrale's death is thus described in "Thraliana": "On the Sunday, the 1st of April, I went to hear the Bishop ofPeterborough preach at May Fair Chapel, and though the sermon hadnothing in it particularly pathetic, I could not keep my tears withinmy eyes. I spent the evening, however, at Lady Rothes', and wascheerful. Found Sir John Lade, Johnson, and Boswell, with Mr. Thrale, at my return to the Square. On Monday morning Mr. Evans came tobreakfast; Sir Philip and Dr. Johnson to dinner--so did Baretti. Mr. Thrale eat voraciously--so voraciously that, encouraged by Jebb andPepys, who had charged me to do so, I checked him rather severely, and Mr. Johnson added these remarkable words: "Sir, after thedenunciation of your physicians this morning, such eating is littlebetter than suicide. " He did not, however, desist, and Sir Philipsaid, he eat apparently in defiance of control, and that it wasbetter for us to say nothing to him. Johnson observed that he thoughtso too; and that he spoke more from a sense of duty than a hope ofsuccess. Baretti and these two spent the evening with me, and I wasenumerating the people who were to meet the Indian ambassadors on theWednesday. I had been to Negri's and bespoke an elegantentertainment. "On the next day, Tuesday the 3rd, Mrs. Hinchliffe called on me inthe morning to go see Webber's drawings of the South Sea rareties. Wemet the Smelts, the Ords, and numberless _blues_ there, and displayedour pedantry at our pleasure. Going and coming, however, I quiteteazed Mrs. Hinchliffe with my low-spirited terrors about Mr. Thrale, who had not all this while one symptom worse than he had had formonths; though the physicians this Tuesday morning agreed that acontinuation of such dinners as he had lately made would soondispatch a life so precarious and uncertain. When I came home todress, Piozzi, who was in the next room teaching Hester to sing, began lamenting that he was engaged to Mrs. Locke on the followingevening, when I had such a world of company to meet these fineOrientals; he had, however, engaged Roncaglia and Sacchini to beginwith, and would make a point of coming himself at nine o'clock ifpossible. I gave him the money I had collected for hisbenefit--35_l_. I remember it was--a banker's note--and burst out o'crying, and said, I was sure I should not go to it. The man wasshocked, and wondered what I meant. Nay, says I, 'tis mere lowness ofspirits, for Mr. Thrale is very well now, and is gone out in hiscarriage to spit cards, as I call'd it--sputar le carte. Just thencame a letter from Dr. Pepys, insisting to speak with me in theafternoon, and though there was nothing very particular in the letterconsidering our intimacy, I burst out o' crying again, and threwmyself into an agony, saying, I was sure Mr. Thrale would dye. "Miss Owen came to dinner, and Mr. Thrale came home so well! and insuch spirits! he had invited more people to my concert, orconversazione, or musical party, of the next day, and was delightedto think what a show we should make. He eat, however, more thanenormously. Six things the day before, and eight on this day, withstrong beer in such quantities! the very servants were frighted, andwhen Pepys came in the evening he said this could not last--eitherthere must be _legal_[1] restraint or certain death. Dear Mrs. Byronspent the evening with me, and Mr. Crutchley came from Sunning-hillto be ready for the morrow's flash. Johnson was at the Bishop ofChester's. I went down in the course of the afternoon to see after mymaster as usual, and found him not asleep, but sitting with his legsup--_because_, as he express'd it. I kissed him, and said how good hewas to be so careful of himself. He enquired who was above, but hadno disposition to come up stairs. Miss Owen and Mrs. Byron now tooktheir leave. The Dr. Had been gone about twenty minutes when Hesterwent down to see her papa, and found him on the floor. What's themeaning of this? says she, in an agony. I chuse it, replies Mr. Thrale firmly; I lie so o' purpose. She ran, however, to call hisvalet, who was gone out--happy to leave him so particularly _well_, as he thought. When my servant went instead, Mr. Thrale bid himbegone, in a firm tone, and added that he was very well and chose tolie so. By this time, however, Mr. Crutchley was run down at Hetty'sintreaty, and had sent to fetch Pepys back. He was got but into UpperBrook Street, and found his friend in a most violent fit of theapoplexy, from which he only recovered to relapse into another, everyone growing weaker as his strength grew less, till six o'clock onWednesday morning, 4th April, 1781, when he died. Sir Richard Jebb, who was fetched at the beginning of the distress, seeing deathcertain, quitted the house without even prescribing. Pepys did allthat could be done, and Johnson, who was sent for at eleven o'clock, never left him, for while breath remained he still hoped. I venturedin once, and saw them cutting his clothes off to bleed him, but I sawno more. " [Footnote 1: (_Note_ by Mrs. T. ). "I rejected all propositions of thesort, and said, as he had got the money, he had the best right tothrow it away. .. . I should always prefer my husband, to my children:let him do his _own_ way. "] We learn from Madame D'Arblay's Journal, that, towards the end ofMarch, 1781, Mr. Thrale had resolved on going abroad with his wife, and that Johnson was to accompany them, but a subsequent entry statesthat the doctors condemned the plan; and "therefore, " she adds, "itis settled that a great meeting of his friends is to take placebefore he actually prepares for the journey, and they are to encirclehim in a body, and endeavour, by representations and entreaties, 'toprevail with him to give it up; and I have little doubt myself but, amongst us, we shall be able to succeed. " This is one of the oddestschemes ever projected by a set of learned and accomplished gentlemenand ladies for the benefit of a hypochondriac patient. Its executionwas prevented by his death. A hurried note from Mrs. Thraleannouncing the event, beginning, "Write to me, pray for me, " isendorsed by Madame D'Arblay: "Written a few hours after the death ofMr. Thrale, which happened by a sudden stroke of apoplexy, on themorning of a day on which half the fashion of London had been invitedto an intended assembly at his house in Grosvenor Square. " Theseinvitations had been sent out by his own express desire: so littlewas he aware of his danger. Letters and messages of condolence poured in from all sides. Johnson(in a letter dated April 5th) said all that could be said in the wayof counsel or consolation: "I do not exhort you to reason yourself into tranquillity. We mustfirst pray, and then labour; first implore the blessing of God, andthose means which He puts into our hands. Cultivated ground, has fewweeds; a mind occupied by lawful business, has little room foruseless regret. "We read the will to-day; but I will not fill my first letter withany other account than that, with all my zeal for your advantage, Iam satisfied; and that the other executors, more used to considerproperty than I, commended it for wisdom and equity. Yet, why shouldI not tell you that you have five hundred pounds for your immediateexpenses, and two thousand pounds a-year, with both the houses andall the goods? "Let us pray for one another, that the time, whether long or short, that shall yet be granted us, may be well spent; and that when thislife, which at the longest is very short, shall come to an end, abetter may begin which shall never end. " On April 9th he writes: "DEAREST MADAM, --That you are gradually recovering your tranquillity, is the effect to be humbly expected from trust in God. Do notrepresent life as darker than it is. Your loss has been very great, but you retain more than almost any other can hope to possess. Youare high in the opinion of mankind; you have children from whom muchpleasure may be expected; and that you will find many friends, youhave no reason to doubt. Of my friendship, be it worth more or less, I hope you think yourself certain, without much art or care. It willnot be easy for me to repay the benefits that I have received; but Ihope to be always ready at your call. Our sorrow has differenteffects; you are withdrawn into solitude, and I am driven intocompany. _I_ am afraid of thinking what I have lost. I never had sucha friend before. Let me have your prayers and those of my dearQueeny. "The prudence and resolution of your design to return so soon to yourbusiness and your duty deserves great praise; I shall communicate iton Wednesday to the other executors. Be pleased to let me knowwhether you would have me come to Streatham to receive you, or stayhere till the next day. " Johnson was one of the executors and took pride in discharging hisshare of the trust. Mrs. Thrale's account of the pleasure he took insigning the documents and cheques, is incidentally confirmed byBoswell: "I could not but be somewhat diverted by hearing Johnson talk in apompous manner of his new office, and particularly of the concerns ofthe brewery, which it was at last resolved should be sold. Lord Lucantells a very good story, which, if not precisely exact, is certainlycharacteristical; that when the sale of Thrale's brewery was goingforward, Johnson appeared bustling about, with an ink-horn and pen inhis button-hole, like an excise-man; and on being asked what hereally considered to be the value of the property which was to bedisposed of, answered, 'We are not here to sell a parcel of boilersand vats, but the potentiality of growing rich beyond the dreams ofavarice. '" The executors had legacies of 200_l. _ each; Johnson, to the surpriseof his friends, being placed on no better footing than the rest. Hehimself was certainly disappointed. Mrs. Thrale says that hiscomplacency towards Thrale was not wholly devoid of interestedmotives; and she adds that his manner towards Reynolds and Dr. Taylorwas also softened by the vague expectation of being named in theirwills. One of her marginal notes is: "Johnson mentioned to Reynoldsthat he had been told by Taylor he was to be his heir. His fondnessfor Reynolds, ay, and for Thrale, had a dash of interest to keep itwarm. " Again, on his saying to Reynolds, "I did not mean to offendyou, "--"He never would offend Reynolds: he had his reason. " Many and heavy as were the reproaches subsequently heaped upon thewidow, no one has accused her of having been found wanting in energy, propriety, or self-respect at this period. She took the necessarysteps for promoting her own interests and those of her children withprudence and promptitude. Madame D'Arblay, who was carrying on aflirtation with one of the executors (Mr. Crutchley), and hadpersonal motives for watching their proceedings, writes, April29th:-- "Miss Thrale is steady and constant, and very sincerely grieved forher father. "The four executors, Mr. Cator, Mr. Crutchley, Mr. Henry Smith, andDr. Johnson, have all behaved generously and honourably, and seemdetermined to give Mrs. Thrale all the comfort and assistance intheir power. She is to carry on the business jointly with them. Poorsoul! it is a dreadful toil and worry to her. " In "Thraliana": "_Streatham, 1st May_, 1781. --I have now appointed three days a weekto attend at the counting-house. If an angel from heaven had told metwenty years ago that the man I knew by the name of _DictionaryJohnson_ should one day become partner with me in a great trade, andthat we should jointly or separately sign notes, drafts, &c. , forthree or four thousand pounds of a morning, how unlikely it wouldhave seemed ever to happen! Unlikely is no word tho', --it would haveseemed _incredible_, neither of us then being worth a groat, Godknows, and both as immeasurably removed from commerce as birth, literature, and inclination could get us. Johnson, however, whodesires above all other good the accumulation of new ideas, is buttoo happy with his present employment; and the influence I have overhim, added to his own solid judgment and a regard for truth, will atlast find it in a small degree difficult to win him from the dirtydelight of seeing his name in a new character flaming away at thebottom of bonds and leases. " * * * * * "Apropos to writing verses in a language one don't understand, thereis always the allowance given, and that allowance (like our excisedrawbacks) commonly larger than it ought to be. The followingtranslation of the verses written with a knife, has been for thisreason uncommonly commended, though they have no merit except beingdone quick. Piozzi asked me on Sunday morning if ever I had seenthem, and could explain them to _him_, for that he heard they werewritten by his friend Mr. Locke. The book in which they werereposited was not ferreted out, however, till Monday night, and onTuesday morning I sent him verses and translation: we used to thinkthe original was Garrick's, I remember. " Translation of the verses written with a knife. "Taglia Amore un coltello, Cara, l'hai sentita dire; Per l'Amore alla Moda, Esso poco può soffrire. Cuori che non mai fur giunti Pronti stanno a separar, Cari nodi come i nostri Non son facili tagliar. Questo dico, che se spezza Tua tenera bellezza, Molto ancor ci resterà; Della mia buona fede Il Coltello non s'avvede, Nè di tua gran bontà. Che tagliare speranze Ben tutto si puo, Per piaceri goduti Oh, questo poi no? Dolci segni! Cari pegni! Di felècità passata, Non temer la coltellata, Resterete--Io loro: Se del caro ben gradita, Trovo questa donatura, Via pur la tagliatura Sol d'Amore sta ferita. " "The power of emptying one's head of a great thing and filling itwith little ones to amuse care, is no small power, and I am proud ofbeing able to write Italian verses while I am bargaining 150, 000_l_. , and settling an event of the highest consequence to my own and mychildren's welfare. David Barclay, the rich Quaker, will treat forour brewhouse, and the negotiation is already begun. My heartpalpitates with hope and fear--my head is bursting with anxiety andcalculation; yet I can listen to a singer and translate verses abouta knife. " "Mrs. Montagu has been here; she says I ought to have a statueerected to me for my diligent attendance on my compting-house duties. The _wits_ and the _blues_ (as it is the fashion to call them) willbe happy enough, no doubt, to have me safe at the brewery--_out oftheir way_. " "A very strange thing happened in the year 1776, and I never wrote itdown, --I must write it down now. A woman came to London from adistant county to prosecute some business, and fell into distress;she was sullen and silent, and the people with whom her affairsconnected her advised her to apply for assistance to some friend. What friends can I have in London? says the woman, nobody here knowsanything of me. One can't tell _that_, was the reply. Where have youlived? I have wandered much, says she, but I am originally fromLitchfield. Who did you know in Litchfield in your youth? Oh, nobodyof any note, I'll warrant: I knew one _David Garrick_, indeed, but Ionce heard that he turned strolling player, and is probably dead longago; I also knew an obscure man, _Samuel Johnson_, very good he wastoo; but who can know anything of poor Johnson? I was likewiseacquainted with _Robert James_, a quack doctor. _He_ is, I suppose, no very reputable connection if I could find him. Thus did this womanname and discriminate the three best known characters inLondon--perhaps in Europe. " "'Such, ' says Mrs. Montagu, 'is the dignity of Mrs. Thrale's virtue, and such her superiority in all situations of life, that nothing nowis wanting but an earthquake to show how she will behave on _that_occasion. ' Oh, brave Mrs. Montagu! She is a monkey, though, toquarrel with Johnson so about Lyttleton's life: if he was a greatcharacter, nothing said of him in that book can hurt him; if he wasnot a great character, they are bustling about nothing. " "Mr. Crutchley lives now a great deal with me; the business ofexecutor to Mr. Thrale's will makes much of his attendance necessary, and it begins to have its full effect in seducing and attaching himto the house, --Miss Burney's being always about me is probablyanother reason for his close attendance, and I believe it is so. Whatbetter could befall Miss Burney, or indeed what better could befall_him_, than to obtain a woman of honour, and character, andreputation for superior understanding? I would be glad, however, thathe fell honestly in love with her, and was not trick'd or trapp'dinto marriage, poor fellow; he is no match for the arts of anovel-writer. A mighty particular character Mr. Crutchley is:strangely mixed up of meanness and magnificence; liberal and splendidin large sums and on serious occasions, narrow and confined in thecommon occurrences of life; warm and generous in some of his motives, frigid and suspicious, however, for eighteen hours at least out ofthe twenty-four; likely to be duped, though always expecting fraud, and easily disappointed in realities, though seldom flattered byfancy. He is supposed by those that knew his mother and herconnections to be Mr. Thrale's natural son, and in many things heresembles him, but not in person: as he is both ugly and awkward. Mr. Thrale certainly believed he was his son, and once told me as muchwhen Sophy Streatfield's affair was in question but nobody couldpersuade him to court the S. S. Oh! well does the Custom-house officerGreen say, -- "'Coquets! leave off affected arts, Gay fowlers at a flock of hearts; Woodcocks, to shun your snares have skill, You show so plain you strive to kill. '" "_3rd June_, 1781. --Well! here have I, with the grace of God and theassistance of good friends, completed--I really think veryhappily--the greatest event of my life. I have sold my brewhouse toBarclay, the rich Quaker, for 135, 000_l_. , to be in four years' timepaid. I have by this bargain purchased peace and a stable fortune, restoration to my original rank in life, and a situation undisturbedby commercial jargon, unpolluted by commercial frauds, undisgraced bycommercial connections. They who succeed me in the house havepurchased the power of being rich beyond the wish of rapacity[1], andI have procured the improbability of being made poor by flights ofthe fairy, speculation. 'Tis thus that a woman and men of feminineminds always--I speak popularly--decide upon life, and chuse certainmediocrity before probable superiority; while, as Eton Graham sayssublimely, -- "'Nobler souls, Fir'd with the tedious and disrelish'd good, Seek their employment in acknowledg'd ill, Danger, and toil, and pain. ' "On this principle partly, and partly on worse, was dear Mr. Johnsonsomething unwilling--but not much at last--to give up a trade bywhich in some years 15, 000_l. _ or 16, 000_l. _ had undoubtedly beengot, but by which, in some years, its possessor had suffered agoniesof terror and tottered twice upon the verge of bankruptcy. Well! ifthy own conscience acquit, who shall condemn thee? Not, I hope, thefuture husbands of our daughters, though I should think it likelyenough; however, as Johnson says very judiciously, they must eitherthink right or wrong: if they think right, let us now think withthem; if wrong, let us never care what they think. So adieu tobrewhouse, and borough wintering; adieu to trade, and tradesmen'sfrigid approbation; may virtue and wisdom sanctify our contract, andmake buyer and seller happy in the bargain!" [Footnote 1: There is a curious similarity here to Johnson's phrase, "the potentiality of becoming rich beyond the dreams of avarice. "] After mentioning some friends who disapproved of the sale, she adds:"Mrs. Montagu has sent me her approbation in a letter exceedinglyaffectionate and polite. 'Tis over now, tho', and I'll clear my headof it and all that belongs to it; I will go to church, give Godthanks, receive the sacrament and forget the frauds, follies, andinconveniences of a commercial life this day. " Madame D'Arblay was at Streatham on the day of the sale, and gives adramatic colour to the ensuing scene: "_Streatham, Thursday_. --This was the great and most important day toall this house, upon which the sale of the brewery was to be decided. Mrs. Thrale went early to town, to meet all the executors, and Mr. Barclay, the Quaker, who was the _bidder_. She was in great agitationof mind, and told me, if all went well she would wave a whitepocket-handkerchief out of the coach window. "Four o'clock came and dinner was ready, and no Mrs. Thrale. Fiveo'clock followed, and no Mrs. Thrale. Queeny and I went out upon thelawn, where we sauntered, in eager expectation, till near six, andthen the coach appeared in sight, and a white pocket-handkerchief waswaved from it. I ran to the door of it to meet her, and she jumpedout of it, and gave me a thousand embraces while I gave mycongratulations. We went instantly to her dressing-room, where shetold me, in brief, how the matter had been transacted, and then wewent down to dinner. Dr. Johnson and Mr. Crutchley had accompaniedher home. " The event is thus announced to Langton by Johnson, in a letterprinted by Boswell, dated June 16, 1781: "You will perhaps be glad tohear that Mrs. Thrale is disencumbered of her brewhouse, and that itseemed to the purchaser so far from an evil that he was content togive for it 135, 000_l_. Is the nation ruined. " _Marginal note_: "Isuppose he was neither glad nor sorry. " Thrale died on the 4th April, 1781, and Mrs. Thrale left Streatham onthe 7th October, 1782. The intervening eighteen months have been madethe subject of an almost unprecedented amount of misrepresentation. Hawkins, Boswell, Madame D'Arblay, and Lord Macaulay have vied witheach other in founding uncharitable imputations on her conduct atthis period of her widowhood; and it has consequently becomenecessary to recapitulate the authentic evidence relating to it. AsPiozzi's name will occur occasionally, he must now be brought uponthe scene. He is first mentioned in "Thraliana" thus: "_Brighton, July_, 1780. --I have picked up Piozzi here, the greatItalian singer. He is amazingly like my father. He shall teachHester. " A detailed account of the commencement of the acquaintance is givenin one of the autobiographical fragments. She says he was recommendedto her by letter by Madame D'Arblay as "a man likely to lighten theburthen of life to her, " and that both she and Mr. Thrale took to himat once. Madame D'Arblay is silent as to the introduction orrecommendation; but gives an amusing account of one of their firstmeetings: "A few months after the Streathamite morning visit to St. Martin'sStreet, an evening party was arranged by Dr. Burney, for bringingthither again Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale, at the desire of Mr. AndMrs. Greville and Mrs. Crewe; who wished, under the quiet roof of Dr. Burney, to make acquaintance with these celebrated personages. " Theconversation flagged, and recourse was had to music-- "Piozzi, a first-rate singer, whose voice was deliciously sweet, andwhose expression was perfect, sung in his very best manner, from hisdesire to do honour to _il Capo di Casa_; but _il Capo di Casa_ andhis family alone did justice to his strains: neither the Grevillesnor 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 advancedin any method or pleasure for carrying on the evening, as upon itsfirst entrance into the room. .. . "Dr. Burney now began to feel considerably embarrassed; though stillhe cherished hopes of ultimate relief from some auspiciouscircumstance that, sooner or later, would operate, he hoped, in hisfavour, through the magnetism of congenial talents. "Vainly, however, he sought to elicit some observations that mightlead to disserting discourse; all his attempts received only quiet, acquiescent replies, 'signifying nothing. ' Every one was awaitingsome spontaneous opening from Dr. Johnson. "Mrs. Thrale, of the whole coterie, was alone at her ease. She fearednot Dr. Johnson; for fear made no part of her composition; and withMrs. Greville, as a fair rival genius, she would have been glad, fromcuriosity, to have had the honour of a little tilt, in fullcarelessness of its event; for though triumphant when victorious, shehad spirits so volatile, and such utter exemption from envy orspleen, 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 tobe passive. "When, however, she observed the sardonic disposition of Mr. Grevilleto stare around him at the whole company in curious silence, she felta defiance against his aristocracy beat in every pulse; for, howevergrandly he might look back to the long ancestry of the Brookes andthe Grevilles, she had a glowing consciousness that her own blood, rapid and fluent, flowed in her veins from Adam of Saltsberg; and, atlength, provoked by the dullness of a taciturnity that, in the midstof such renowned interlocutors, produced as narcotic a torpor ascould have been caused by a dearth the most barren of humanfaculties; she grew tired of the music, and yet more tired ofremaining, what as little suited her inclinations as her abilities, amere cipher in the company; and, holding such a position, and all itsconcomitants, to be ridiculous, her spirits rose rebelliously aboveher control; and, in a fit of utter recklessness of what might bethought of her by her fine new acquaintance, she suddenly, butsoftly, arose, and stealing on tip-toe behind Signor Piozzi, who wasaccompanying himself on the piano-forte to an animated _arriaparlante_, with his back to the company, and his face to the wall;she ludicrously began imitating him by squaring her elbows, elevatingthem with ecstatic shrugs of the shoulders, and casting up her eyes, while languishingly reclining her head; as if she were not lessenthusiastically, though somewhat more suddenly, struck with thetransports of harmony than himself. "This grotesque ebullition of ungovernable gaiety was not perceivedby Dr. Johnson, who faced the fire, with his back to the performerand the instrument. But the amusement which such an unlooked forexhibition caused to the party, was momentary; for Dr. Burney, shocked lest the poor Signor should observe, and be hurt by thismimicry, glided gently round to Mrs. Thrale, and, with somethingbetween pleasantness and severity, whispered to her, 'Because, Madam, you have no ear yourself for music, will you destroy the attention ofall 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 senseof its justice the most amiable: she nodded her approbation of theadmonition; and, returning to her chair, quietly sat down, as sheafterwards said, like a pretty little miss, for the remainder of oneof the most humdrum evenings that she had ever passed. "Strange, indeed, strange and most strange, the event considered, wasthis opening intercourse between Mrs. Thrale and Signor Piozzi. Little could she imagine that the person she was thus called awayfrom holding up to ridicule, would become, but a few yearsafterwards, the idol of her fancy and the lord of her destiny! Andlittle did the company present imagine, that this burlesque scene wasbut the first of a drama the most extraordinary of real life, ofwhich these two persons were to be the hero and heroine: though, whenthe catastrophe was known, this incident, witnessed by so many, wasrecollected and repeated from coterie to coterie throughout London, with comments and sarcasms of endless variety. "[1] [Footnote 1: Memoirs of Dr. Burney, &c. , vol. Ii, pp. 105--111. ] Madame D'Arblay mentioned the same circumstance in conversation tothe Rev. W. Harness: yet it seems strange in connection with an entryin "Thraliana" from which it would appear that her friend was farfrom wanting in susceptibility to sweet sounds: "13 _August_, 1780. --Piozzi is become a prodigious favourite with me, he is so intelligent a creature, so discerning, one can't helpwishing for his good opinion; his singing surpasses everybody's fortaste, tenderness, and true elegance; his hand on the forte piano toois so soft, so sweet, so delicate, every tone goes to the heart, Ithink, and fills the mind with emotions one would not be without, though inconvenient enough sometimes. He wants nothing from us: hecomes for his health he says: I see nothing ail the man but pride. The newspapers yesterday told what all the musical folks gained, andset Piozzi down 1200_l_. O' year. " On the 24th August, 1780, Madame D'Arblay writes: "I have not seenPiozzi: he left me your letter, which indeed is a charming one, though its contents puzzled me much whether to make me sad or merry. "Mrs. Thrale was still at Brighton; so that the scene at Dr. Burney'smust have occurred subsequently; when she had already begun to findPiozzi what the Neapolitan ladies understand by _simpatico_. MadameD'Arblay's "Memoirs, " as I shall have occasion to point out, are byno means so trustworthy a register of dates, facts, or impressions asher "Diary. " Whilst Thrale lived, Mrs. Thrale's regard for Piozzi was certainlynot of a nature to cause scandal or provoke censure, and as itripened into love, it may be traced, step by step, from the frankestand fullest of all possible unveilings of the heart. Rare indeed arethe instances in which such revelations as we find in "Thraliana"could be risked by either man or woman, without giving scope tomalevolence; and they should not only be judged as a whole and by thecontext, but the most favourable construction should be put uponthem. When, in this sort of self-communing, every passing emotion, every transitory inclination, is set down, it would be unfair andeven foolish to infer that the emotion at once became a passion, orthat the inclination was criminally indulged. The next notice of Piozzi occurs in Madame D'Arblay's "Diary" forJuly 10th, 1781: "You will believe I was not a little surprised to see Sacchini. He isgoing to the Continent with Piozzi, and Mrs. Thrale invited them bothto spend the last day at Streatham, and from hence proceed toMargate. .. . The first song he sang, beginning 'En quel amabil volto, 'you may perhaps know, but I did not; it is a charming mezza bravura. He and Piozzi then sung together the duet of the 'Amore Soldato;' andnothing could be much more delightful; Piozzi taking pains to singhis very best, and Sacchini, with his soft but delicious whisper, almost thrilling me by his exquisite and pathetic expression. Theythen went through that opera, great part of 'Creso, ' some of'Erifile, ' and much of 'Rinaldo. '" Piozzi's attentions had attracted Johnson's notice without troublinghis peace. On November 24th, 1781, he wrote from Ashbourne: "Piozzi, I find, is coming in spite of Miss Harriet's prediction, or secondsight, and when _he_ comes and _I_ come, you will have two about youthat love you; and I question if either of us heartily care how fewmore you have. But how many soever they may be, I hope you keep yourkindness for me, and I have a great mind to have Queeny's kindnesstoo. " Again, December 3rd, 1781: "You have got Piozzi again, notwithstanding pretty Harriet's dire denunciations. The Italiantranslation which he has brought, you will find no great accession toyour library, for the writer seems to understand very little English. When we meet we can compare some passages. Pray contrive a multitudeof good things for us to do when we meet. Something that may _holdall together_; though if any thing makes _me_ love you more, it isgoing from you. " We learn from "Thraliana, " that the entanglement with Piozzi was notthe only one of which Streatham was contemporaneously the scene: "_August, _ 1781. --I begin to wish in good earnest that Miss Burneyshould make impression on Mr. Crutchley. I think she honestly lovesthe man, who in his turn appears to be in love with some oneelse--Hester, I fear, Oh! that would indeed be unlucky! People havesaid so a long while, but I never thought it till now; young men andwomen will always be serving one so, to be sure, if they live at alltogether, but I depended on Burney keeping him steady to herself. Queeny behaves like an angel about it. Mr. Johnson says the name ofCrutchley comes from _croix lea_, the cross meadow; _lea_ is ameadow, I know, and _crutch_, a crutch stick, is so called fromhaving the handle go _crosswise_. " "_September, _ 1781. --My five fair daughters too! I have so good apretence to wish for long life to see them settled. Like the oldfellow in 'Lucian, ' one is never at a loss for an excuse. They arefive lovely creatures to be sure, but they love not me. Is it myfault or theirs?" "_12th October_, 1781. --Yesterday was my wedding-day; it was amelancholy thing to me to pass it without the husband of my youth. "'Long tedious years may neither moan, Sad, deserted, and alone; May neither long condemned to stay Wait the second bridal day!!!'[1] "Let me thank God for my children, however, my fortune, and myfriends, and be contented if I cannot be happy. " [Footnote 1: _Note by Mrs. T. _: "Samuel Wesley's verses, making partof an epithalamium. "] "_15th October_, 1781. --My maid Margaret Rice dreamed last night thatmy eldest daughter was going to be married to Mr. Crutchley, but thatMr. Thrale _himself_ prevented her. An odd thing to me, who think Mr. Crutchley is his son. " Although the next day but one after Thrale's death Johnson carriedBoswell to dine at the Queen's Arms' Club, his grief was deep anddurable. Indeed, it is expressed so often and so earnestly as torebut the presumption that "my mistress" was the sole or chief tiewhich bound him to Streatham. Amongst his Prayers and Meditations isthe following: "_Good Friday, April 13th_, 1781. --On Wednesday, 11th, was buried mydear friend Thrale, who died on Wednesday, 4th; and with him wereburied many of my hopes and pleasures. About five, I think, onWednesday morning, he expired. I felt almost the last flutter of hispulse, and looked for the last time upon the face that for fifteenyears had never been turned upon me but with respect or benignity. Farewell. May God, that delighteth in mercy, have had mercy on thee!I had constantly prayed for him some time before his death. Thedecease of him, from whose friendship I had obtained manyopportunities of amusement, and to whom I turned my thoughts as to arefuge from misfortunes, has left me heavy. But my business is withmyself. " On the same paper is a note: "My first knowledge of Thrale was in1765. I enjoyed his favours for almost a fourth part of my life. " On the 20th March, 1782, he wrote thus to Langton: "Of my life, from the time we parted, the history is mournful. Thespring of last year deprived me of Thrale, a man whose eye forfifteen years had scarcely been turned upon me but with respect ortenderness; for such another friend, the general course of humanthings will not suffer man to hope. I passed the summer at Streatham, but there was no Thrale; and having idled away the summer with aweakly body and neglected mind, I made a journey to Staffordshire onthe edge of winter. The season was dreary, I was sickly, and foundthe friends sickly whom I went to see. " There is ample evidence that he neither felt nor suspected anydiminution of kindness or regard, and continued, till their finaldeparture from Streatham, to treat it as his home. In November she writes, "Do not forget Streatham and its inhabitants, who are all much yours;" and he replies: "Birmingham, Dec. 8th, 1781. "DEAR MADAM, --I am come to this place on my way to London and toStreatham. I hope to be in London on Tuesday or Wednesday, andStreatham on Thursday, by your kind conveyance. I shall have nothingto relate either wonderful or delightful. But remember that you sentme away, and turned me out into the world, and you must take thechance of finding me better or worse. This you may know at present, that my affection for you is not diminished, and my expectation fromyou is increased. Do not neglect me, nor relinquish me. Nobody willever love you better or honour you more. " "Feb. 16th, 1782. "DEAREST LADY, --I am better, but not yet well; but hope springseternal. As soon as I can think myself not troublesome, you may besure of seeing me, _for such a place to visit nobody ever had_. Dearest Madam, do not think me worse than I am; be sure, at least, that whatever happens to me, I am with all the regard that admirationof excellence and gratitude for kindness can excite, Madam, your" &c. In "Thraliana": "_23rd February, 1782 (Harley Street)_. --The truth is, Mr. Johnsonhas some occult disorder that I cannot understand; Jebb and Bromfieldfancy it is water between the heart and pericardium--I do not thinkit is _that_, but I do not know what it is. He apprehends no dangerhimself, and he knows more of the matter than any of them all. " On February 27th, 1782, he writes to Malone: "I have for many weeksbeen so much out of order, that I have gone out only in a coach toMrs. Thrale's, where I can use all the freedom that sicknessrequires. " On March 20th, 1782, to Mrs. Grastrell and Mrs. Aston: "When Dr. Falconer saw me, I was at home only by accident, for I lived muchwith Mrs. Thrale, and had all the care from her that she could takeor could be taken. " April 26th, 1782, to Mrs. Thrale: "MADAM, --I have been very much out of order since you sent me away;but why should I tell you, who do not care, nor desire to know? Idined with Mr. Paradise on Monday, with the Bishop of St. Asaphyesterday, with the Bishop of Chester I dine to-day, and with theAcademy on Saturday, with Mr. Hoole on Monday, and with Mrs. Garrickon Thursday, the 2nd of May, and then--what care you? _What then_? "The news run, that we have taken seventeen French transports; thatLangton's lady is lying down with her eighth child, all alive; andMrs. Carter's Miss Sharpe is going to marry a schoolmaster sixty-twoyears old. "Do not let Mr. Piozzi nor any body else put me quite out of yourhead, and do not think that any body will love you like your" &c. "April 30th, 1782. "Mrs. Sheridan refused to sing, at the Duchess of Devonshire'srequest, a song to the Prince of Wales. They pay for the Theatreneither principal nor interest; and poor Garrick's funeral expensesare yet unpaid, though the undertaker is broken. Could you have abetter purveyor for a little scandal? But I wish I was at Streatham. I beg Miss to come early, and I may perhaps reward you with moremischief. " She went to Streatham on the 18th April, 1782, and Johnson evidentlywith her. In "Thraliana" she writes: "_Saturday, 9th May, 1782. _--To-day I bring home to Streatham my poorDr. Johnson: he went to town a week ago by the way of amusinghimself, and got so very ill that I thought I should never get himhome alive, "--by _home_ meaning Streatham. Johnson to Mrs. Thrale: "June 4th, 1782. "This day I dined upon skate, pudding, goose, and your asparagus, andcould have eaten more, but was prudent. Pray for me, dear Madam; Ihope the tide has turned. The change that I feel is more than I dursthave hoped, or than I thought possible; but there has not yet passeda whole day, and I may rejoice perhaps too soon. Come and see me, andwhen you think best, upon due consideration, take me away. " From her to him: "Streatham, June 14th, 1782. "DEAR SIR, --I am glad you confess yourself peevish, for confessionmust precede amendment. Do not study to be more unhappy than you are, and if you can eat and sleep well, do not be frighted, for there canbe no real danger. Are you acquainted with Dr. Lee, the master ofBaliol College? And are you not delighted with his gaiety of mannersand youthful vivacity now that he is eighty-six years old? I neverheard a more perfect or excellent pun than his, when some one toldhim how, in a late dispute among the Privy Counsellors, the LordChancellor (Thurlow) struck the table with such violence that hesplit it. 'No, no, ' replied the Master, drily, 'I can hardly persuademyself that he _split the table_, though I believe he _divided theBoard_. ' Will you send me anything better from Oxford than this? forthere must be no more fastidiousness now; no more refusing to laughat a good quibble, when you so loudly profess the want of amusementand the necessity of diversion. " From him to her: "Oxford, June 17th, 1782. "Oxford has done, I think, what for the present it can do, and I amgoing slyly to take a place in the coach for Wednesday, and you or mysweet Queeny will fetch me on Thursday, and see what you can make ofme. " Hannah More met him during this visit to Oxford, and writes, June13th, 1782: "Who do you think is my principal cicerone at Oxford?only Dr. Johnson! and we do so gallant it about. " Madame D'Arblay, then at Streatham, writes, June 26th, 1782: "Dr. Johnson, who had been in town some days, returned, and Mr. Crutchleycame also, as well as my father. " After describing some livelyconversation, she adds: "I have _very often_, though I mention themnot, long and melancholy discourses with Dr. Johnson, about our deardeceased master, whom, indeed, he regrets unceasingly; but I love notto dwell on subjects of sorrow when I can drive them away, especiallyto you (her sister), upon this account as you were so much a strangerto that excellent friend, whom you only lamented for the sake ofthose who survived him. " He had only returned that very day, and shehad been absent from Streatham, as she states elsewhere, till "theCecilian business was arranged, " _i. E. _ till the end of May. On the 24th August, 1782 (this date is material) Johnson writes toBoswell: "DEAR SIR, --Being uncertain whether I should have any call thisautumn into the country, I did not immediately answer your kindletter. I have no call; but if you desire to meet me at Ashbourne, Ibelieve I can come thither; if you had rather come to London, I canstay at Streatham: take your choice. " This was two days after Mrs. Thrale, with his full concurrence, hadmade up her mind to let Streatham. He treats it, notwithstanding, asat his disposal for a residence so long as she remains in it. The books and printed letters from which most of these extracts aretaken, have been all along accessible to her assailants. Those from"Thraliana, " which come next, are new: "_25th November_, 1781. --I have got my Piozzi[1] home at last; helooks thin and battered, but always kindly upon me, I think. Hebrought me an Italian sonnet written in his praise by Marco Capello, which I instantly translated of course; but he, prudent creature, insisted on my burning it, as he said it would inevitably get aboutthe town how _he_ was praised, and how Mrs. Thrale translated andechoed the praises, so that, says he, I shall be torn in pieces, andyou will have some _infamità_ said of you that will make you hate thesight of me. He was so earnest with me that I could not resist, soburnt my sonnet, which was actually very pretty; and now I repent Idid not first write it into the Thraliana. Over leaf, however, shallgo the translation, which happens to be done very closely, and thelast stanza is particularly exact. I must put it down while Iremember it: 1. "'Favoured of Britain's pensive sons, Though still thy name be found, Though royal Thames where'er he runs Returns the flattering sound, 2. Though absent thou, on every joy Her gloom privation flings, And Pleasure, pining for employ, Now droops her nerveless wings, 3. Yet since kind Fates thy voice restore To charm our land again[2], -- Return not to their rocky shore, Nor tempt the angry main. 4. Nor is their praise of so much worth, Nor is it justly given, That angels sing to them on earth Who slight the road to heaven. ' "He tells me--Piozzi does--that his own country manners greatlydisgusted him, after having been used to ours; but Milan is acomfortable place, I find. If he does not fix himself for life here, he will settle to lay his bones at Milan. The Marquis D'Araciel, hisfriend and patron, who resides there, divides and disputes his heartwith me: I shall be loth to resign it. " [Footnote 1: This mode of expression did not imply then what it mightnow. See _ante_, p. 92, where Johnson writes to "my Baretti. "] [Footnote 2: "Capello is a Venetian poet. "] "_17th December, 1781. _--Dear Mr. Johnson is at last returned; he hasbeen a vast while away to see his country folks at Litchfield. Myfear is lest he should grow paralytick, --there are really somesymptoms already discoverable, I think, about the mouth particularly. He will drive the gout away so when it comes, and it must go_somewhere_. Queeny works hard with him at the classicks; I hope shewill be _out_ of leading-strings at least before he gets _into_ them, as poor women say of their children. " "_1st January, 1782. _--Let me not, while censuring the behaviour ofothers, however, give cause of censure by my own. I am beginning anew year in a new character. May it be worn decently yet lightly! Iwish not to be rigid and fright my daughters by too much severity. Iwill not be wild and give them reason to lament the levity of mylife. Resolutions, however, are vain. To pray for God's grace is thesole way to obtain it--'Strengthen Thou, O Lord, my virtue and myunderstanding, preserve me from temptation, and acquaint me withmyself; fill my heart with thy love, restrain it by thy fear, andkeep my soul's desires fixed wholly on that place where only truejoys are to be found, through Jesus Christ our Lord, --Amen. '" _January_, 1782. --(After stating her fear of illness and other ills. )"_If_ nothing of all these misfortunes, however, befall one; _if_ formy sins God should take from me my monitor, my friend, my inmate, mydear Doctor Johnson; _if_ neither I should marry, nor the brewhousepeople break; _if_ the ruin of the nation should not change thesituation of affairs so that one could not receive regularremittances from England: and _if_ Piozzi should not pick him up awife and fix his abode in this country, --_if_, therefore, and _if_and _if_ and _if_ again all should conspire to keep my presentresolution warm, I certainly would, at the close of the four yearsfrom the sale of the Southwark estate, set out for Italy, with my twoor three eldest girls, and see what the world could show me. " In a marginal note, she adds: "Travelling with Mr. Johnson _I_ cannot bear, and leaving him behind_he_ could not bear, so his life or death must determine theexecution or laying aside my schemes. I wish it were within reason to_hope_ he could live four years. " "_Streatham, 4th January_, 1782. --I have taken a house in HarleyStreet for these three months next ensuing, and hope to have somesociety, --not company tho': crowds are out of the question, butpeople will not come hither on short days, and 'tis too dull to liveall alone so. The world will watch me at first, and think I come o'husband-hunting for myself or my fair daughters, but when I havebehaved prettily for a while, they will change their mind. " "_Harley Street, 14th January_, 1782. --The first seduction comes fromPepys. I had a letter to-day desiring me to dine in Wimpole Street, to meet Mrs. Montagu and a whole _army of blues_, to whom I trust myrefusal will afford very pretty speculation . .. And they may settlemy character and future conduct at their leisure. Pepys is aworthless fellow at last; he and his brother run about the town, spying and enquiring what Mrs. Thrale is to do this winter, whatfriends she is to see, what men are in her confidence, how soon shewill be _married_, &c. ; the brother Dr. --the Medico, as we callhim--lays wagers about me, I find; God forgive me, but they'll makeme hate them both, and they are no better than two fools for theirpains, for I was willing to have taken them to my heart. " "They say Pacchierotti, the famous soprano singer, is ill, and _theysay_ Lady Mary Duncan, his frightful old protectress, has made him soby her _caresses dénaturées_. A little envy of the new woman, Allegrante, has probably not much mended his health, forPacchierotti, dear creature, is envious enough. I was, however, turning over Horace yesterday, to look for the expression _tenuifronte_[1], in vindication of my assertion to Johnson that lowforeheads were classical, when the 8th Ode of the First Book ofHorace struck me so, I could not help imitating it while the scandalwas warm in my mind: 1. "'He's sick indeed! and very sick, For if it is not all a trick You'd better look about ye. Dear Lady Mary, prythee tell Why thus by loving him too well You kill your Pacchierotti? 2. Nor sun nor dust can he abide, Nor careless in a snaffle ride, The steed we saw him mount ill. _You_ stript him of his manly force, When tumbling headlong from his horse He pressed the plains of Fonthill. [2] 3. Why the full opera should he shun? Where crowds of critics smiling run, To applaud their Allegrante. Why is it worse than viper's sting, To see them clap, or hear her sing? Surely he's envious, ain't he? 4. Forbear his house, nor haunt his bed With that strange wig and fearful head, Then, though he now so ill is, We o'er his voice again may doze, When, cover'd warm with women's clothes, He acts a young Achilles. '" [Footnote 1: Insignem tenui fronte Lycorida Cyri torret amor-- But _tenuis_ is _small_ or _narrow_ rather than _low_. One ofFielding's beauties, Sophia Western, has a low forehead: another, Fanny, a high one. ] [Footnote 2: _Note by Mrs. T. :_ "Fonthill, the seat of youngBeckford. They set him o' horseback, and he tumbled off. "] "_1st February, 1782. _--Here is Mr. Johnson ill, very ill indeed, and--I do not see what ails him; 'tis repelled gout, I fear, fallenon the lungs and breath of course. What shall we do for him? If Ilose _him_, I am more than undone; friend, father, guardian, confident!--God give me health and patience. What shall I do?" "_Harley Street, 13th April, 1782. _--When I took off my mourning, thewatchers watched me very exactly, 'but they whose hands weremightiest have found nothing:' so I shall leave the town, I hope, ina good disposition towards me, though I am sullen enough with thetown for fancying me such an amorous idiot that I am dying to enjoyevery filthy fellow. God knows how distant such dispositions are fromthe heart and constitution of H. L. T. Lord Loughboro', Sir RichardJebb, Mr. Piozzi, Mr. Selwyn, Dr. Johnson, every man that comes tothe house, is put in the papers for me to marry. In good time, Iwrote to-day to beg the 'Morning Herald' would say no more about me, good or bad. " "_Streatham, 17th April, 1782. _--I am returned to Streatham, prettywell in health and very sound in heart, notwithstanding the watchersand the wager-layers, who think more of the charms of their sex byhalf than I who know them better. Love and friendship are distinctthings, and I would go through fire to serve many a man whom nothingless than fire would force me to go to bed to. Somebody mentioned mygoing to be married t'other day, and Johnson was joking about it. Isuppose, Sir, said I, they think they are doing me honour with theseimaginary matches, when, perhaps the man does not exist who would dome honour by marrying me! This, indeed, was said in the wild andinsolent spirit of Baretti, yet 'tis nearer the truth than one wouldthink for. A woman of passable person, ancient family, respectablecharacter, uncommon talents, and three thousand a year, has a rightto think herself any man's equal, and has nothing to seek but returnof affection from whatever partner she pitches on. To marry for lovewould therefore be rational in me, who want no advancement of birthor fortune, and _till I am in love_, I will not marry, nor perhapsthen. " "_22nd August, 1782. _--An event of no small consequence to our littlefamily must here be recorded in the 'Thraliana. ' After having longintended to go to Italy for pleasure, we are now settling to gothither for convenience. The establishment of expense here atStreatham is more than my income will answer; my lawsuit with LadySalusbury turns out worse in the event and infinitely more costlythan I could have dreamed on; 8000_l. _ is supposed necessary to thepayment of it, and how am I to raise 8000_l_. ? My trees will (afterall my expectations from them) fetch but 4000_l_. , the money lentPerkins on his bond 1600_l_. , the Hertfordshire copyholds may perhapsbe worth 1000_l_. , and where is the rest to spring from? I must goabroad and save money. To show Italy to my girls, and be showed it byPiozzi, has long been my dearest wish, but to leave Mr. Johnsonshocked me, and to take him appeared impossible. His recovery, however, from an illness we all thought dangerous, gave me courage tospeak to him on the subject, and this day (after having been letblood) I mustered up resolution to tell him the necessity of changinga way of life I had long been displeased with. I added that I hadmentioned the matter to my eldest daughter, whose prudence and solidjudgment, unbiassed by passion, is unequalled, as far as myexperience has reached; that she approved the scheme, and meant topartake it, though of an age when she might be supposed to formconnections here in England--attachments of the tenderest nature;that she declared herself free and resolved to follow my fortunes, though perfectly aware temptations might arise to prevent me fromever returning--a circumstance she even mentioned herself. "Mr. Johnson thought well of the project, and wished me to put itearly in execution: seemed less concerned at parting with me than Iwished him: thought his pupil Miss Thrale quite right in forbearingto marry young, and seemed to entertain no doubt of living to see usreturn rich and happy in two or three years' time. He told Hester inmy absence that he would not go with me if I asked him. See theimportance of a person to himself. I fancied Mr. Johnson could nothave existed without me, forsooth, as we have now lived together forabove eighteen years. I have so fondled him in sickness and inhealth. Not a bit of it. He feels nothing in parting with me, nothingin the least; but thinks it a prudent scheme, and goes to his booksas usual. This is philosophy and truth; he always said he hated a_feeler_. .. . "The persecution I endure from men too who want to marry me--in goodtime--is another reason for my desiring to be gone. I wish to marrynone of them, and Sir Philip's teazing me completed my mortification;to see that one can rely on _nobody!_ The expences of this house, however, which are quite past my power to check, is the true andrational cause of our departure. In Italy we shall live with twicethe respect and at half the expence we do here; the language isfamiliar to me and I love the Italians; I take with me all I love inthe world except my two baby daughters, who will be left safe atschool; and since Mr. Johnson cares nothing for the loss of mypersonal friendship and company, there is no danger of any body elsebreaking their hearts. My sweet Burney and Mrs. Byron will perhapsthink they are sorry, but my consciousness that no one _can_ have thecause of concern that Johnson has, and my conviction that he has _noconcern at all_, shall cure me of lamenting friends left behind. " In the margin of this entry she has written, "I begin to see (noweverything shows it) that Johnson's connection with me is merely aninterested one; he _loved_ Mr. Thrale, I believe, but only wished tofind in me a careful nurse and humble friend for his sick and hislounging hours; yet I really thought he could not have _existed_without _my conversation_ forsooth! He cares more for my roast beefand plum pudden, which he now devours too dirtily for endurance; andsince he is glad to get rid of me, I'm sure I have good cause todesire the getting rid of him. " No great stress should be laid on this ebullition of mortifiedself-love; but it occurs oddly enough at the very time when, according to Lord Macaulay, she was labouring to produce the veryfeeling that irritated her. "_August 28th_, 1782. --He (Piozzi) thinks still more than he says, that I shall give him up; and if Queeney made herself more amiable tome, and took the proper methods--I suppose I should. " "_20 September_ 1782, _Streatham_. --And now I am going to leaveStreatham (I have let the house and grounds to Lord Shelburne, theexpence of it eat me up) for three years, where I lived--neverhappily indeed, but always easily: the more so perhaps from the totalabsence of love and ambition-- "'Else these two passions by the way Might chance to show us scurvy play. '" Ten days later (October 1st) she thus argues out the question ofmarriage: "Now! that dear little discerning creature, Fanny Burney, says I'm inlove with Piozzi: very likely; he is so amiable, so honourable, somuch above his situation by his abilities, that if "'Fate had not fast bound her With Styx nine times round her, Sure musick and love were victorious. ' But if he is ever so worthy, ever so lovely, he is _below me_forsooth! In what is he below me? In virtue? I would I were abovehim. In understanding? I would mine were from this instant under theguardianship of his. In birth? To be sure he is below me in birth, and so is almost every man I know or have a chance to know. But he isbelow me in fortune: is mine sufficient for us both?--more than amplyso. Does he deserve it by his conduct, in which he has always unitedwarm notions of honour with cool attention to oeconomy, the spirit ofa gentleman with the talents of a professor? How shall any mandeserve fortune, if he does not? But I am the guardian of fivedaughters by Mr. Thrale, and must not disgrace _their_ name andfamily. Was then the man my mother chose for me of higher extractionthan him I have chosen for myself? No, --but his fortune washigher. .. . I wanted fortune then, perhaps: do I want it now?--Not atall; but I am not to think about myself; I married the first time toplease my mother, I must marry the second time to please my daughter. I have always sacrificed my own choice to that of others, so I mustsacrifice it again: but why? Oh, because I am a woman of superiorunderstanding, and must not for the world degrade myself from mysituation in life. But if I _have_ superior understanding, let me atleast make use of it for once, and rise to the rank of a human beingconscious of its own power to discern good from ill. The person whohas uniformly acted by the will of others has hardly that dignity toboast. "But once again: I am guardian to five girls; agreed: will thisconnection prejudice their bodies, souls, or purse? My marriage mayassist _my_ health, but I suppose it will not injure _theirs_. Willhis company or companions corrupt their morals? God forbid; if I didnot believe him one of the best of our fellow beings, I would rejecthim instantly. Can it injure their fortunes? Could he impoverish (ifhe would) five women, to whom their father left _20, 000l. _ each, independent almost of possibilities?--To what then am I guardian? totheir pride and prejudice? and is anything else affected by thealliance? Now for more solid objections. Is not the man of whom Idesire protection, a foreigner? unskilled in the laws and language ofour country? Certainly. Is he not, as the French say, _Arbitre de monsort?_ and from the hour he possesses my person and fortune, have Iany power of decision how or where I may continue or end my life? Isnot the man, upon the continuance of whose affection my wholehappiness depends, _younger_ than myself[1], and is it wise to placeone's happiness on the continuance of _any_ man's affection? Would itnot be painful to owe his appearance of regard more to his honourthan his love? and is not my person, already faded, likelier to fadesooner, than his? On the other hand, is his life a good one? andwould it not be lunacy even to risque the wretchedness of losing allsituation in the world for the sake of living with a man one loves, and then to lose both companion and consolation? When I lost Mr. Thrale, every one was officious to comfort and to soothe me; butwhich of my children or quondam friends would look with kindness uponPiozzi's widow? If I bring children by him, must they not beCatholics, and must not I live among people the _ritual_ part ofwhose religion I disapprove? "These are _my_ objections, these _my_ fears: not those of beingcensured by the world, as it is called, a composition of vice andfolly, though 'tis surely no good joke to be talked of "'By each affected she that tells my story, And blesses her good stars that _she_ was prudent. ' "These objections would increase in strength, too, if my presentstate was a happy one, but it really is not. I live a quiet life, butnot a pleasant one. My children govern without loving me; my servantsdevour and despise me; my friends caress and censure me; my moneywastes in expences I do not enjoy, and my time in trifles I do notapprove. Every one is made insolent, and no one comfortable; myreputation unprotected, my heart unsatisfied, my health unsettled. Iwill, however, resolve on nothing. I will take a voyage to theContinent in spring, enlarge my knowledge and repose my purse. Changeof place may turn the course of these ideas, and external objectssupply the room of internal felicity. If he follow me, I may rejector receive at pleasure the addresses of a man who follows on _noexplicit promise_, nor much probability of success, for I wouldreally wish to marry no more without the consent of my children (suchI mean as are qualified to give their opinions); and how should _MissThrales_ approve of my marrying _Mr. Piozzi_? Here then I rest, andwill torment my mind no longer, but commit myself, as he advises, tothe hand of Providence, and all will end _all' ottima perfezzione_. "Written at Streatham, 1st October, 1782. " [Footnote 1: _Note by Mrs. Piozzi_: "He was half a year _older_ whenour registers were both examined. "] "_October, 1782. _--There is no mercy for me in this island. I am moreand more disposed to try the continent. One day the paper rings withmy marriage to Johnson, one day to Crutchley, one day to Seward. Igive no reason for such impertinence, but cannot deliver myself fromit. Whitbred, the rich brewer, is in love with me too; oh, I wouldrather, as Ann Page says, be set breast deep in the earth[1] andbowled to death with turnips. "Mr. Crutchley bid me make a curtsey to my daughters for keeping meout of a goal (_sic_), and the newspapers insolent as he! How shall Iget through? How shall I get through? I have not deserved it of anyof them, as God knows. "Philip Thicknesse put it about Bath that I was a poor girl, a mantuamaker, when Mr. Thrale married me. It is an odd thing, but MissThrales like, I see, to have it believed. " [Footnote 1: Anne Page says, "quick in the earth. "] The general result down to this point is that, whatever thedisturbance in Mrs. Thrale's heart and mind, Johnson had no ground ofcomplaint, nor ever thought he had, which is the essential point incontroversy. In other words, he was not driven, hinted, or manoeuvredout of Streatham. Yet almost all his worshippers have insisted thathe was. Hawkins, after mentioning the kind offices undertaken byJohnson (which constantly took him to Streatham) says:--"Neverthelessit was observed by myself, and other of Johnson's friends, that soonafter the decease of Mr. Thrale, his visits to Streatham became lessand less frequent, and that he studiously avoided the mention of theplace or the family. " This statement is preposterous, and is only tobe partially accounted for by the fact that Hawkins, as his daughterinforms us, had no personal acquaintance with Mrs. Thrale orStreatham. Boswell, who was in Scotland when Johnson and Mrs. Thraleleft Streatham together, gratuitously infers that he left it alone, angry and mortified, in consequence of her altered manner: "The death of Mr. Thrale had made a very material alteration withrespect to Johnson's reception in that family. The manly authority ofthe husband no longer curbed the lively exuberance of the lady; andas her vanity had been fully gratified, by having the Colossus ofLiterature attached to her for many years, she gradually became lessassiduous to please him. Whether her attachment to him was alreadydivided by another object, I am unable to ascertain; but it is plainthat Johnson's penetration was alive to her neglect or forcedattention; for on the 6th of October this year we find him making a'parting use of the library' at Streatham, and pronouncing a prayerwhich he composed on leaving Mr. Thrale's family. "'Almighty God, Father of all mercy, help me by Thy grace, that Imay, with humble and sincere thankfulness, remember the comforts andconveniences which I have enjoyed at this place; and that I mayresign them with holy submission, equally trusting in Thy protectionwhen Thou givest, and when Thou takest away. Have mercy upon me, OLord! have mercy upon me! To Thy fatherly protection, O Lord, Icommend this family. Bless, guide, and defend them, that they may sopass through this world, as finally to enjoy in Thy presenceeverlasting happiness, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen. ' "One cannot read this prayer without some emotions not veryfavourable to the lady whose conduct occasioned it. "The next day, he made the following memorandum: "'_October 7. _--I was called early. I packed up my bundles, and usedthe foregoing prayer, with my morning devotions somewhat, I think, enlarged. Being earlier than the family, I read St. Paul's farewellin the Acts, and then read fortuitously in the Gospels, --which was myparting use of the library. '" Mr. Croker, whose protest against the groundless insinuations ofBoswell should have put subsequent writers on their guard, states ina note:--"He seems to have taken leave of the kitchen as well as thechurch at Streatham in Latin. " The note of his last dinner there, done into English, would run thus: "Oct. 6th, Sunday, 1782. "I dined at Streatham on boiled leg of lamb, with spinach, thestuffing of flour and raisins, round of beef, and turkey poult; andafter the meat service, figs, grapes, not yet ripe in consequence ofthe bad season, with peaches, also hard. I took my place at table inno joyful mood, and partook of the food moderately, lest I shouldfinish by intemperance. If I rightly remember, the banquet at thefuneral of Hadon came into my mind. [1] When shall I revisitStreatham?" [Footnote 1: "Si recte memini in mentem venerunt epulæ in exequiisHadoni celebratæ. " I cannot explain this allusion. ] The exclamation "When shall I revisit Streatham?" loses much of itspathos when connected with these culinary details. Madame D'Arblay's description of the last year at Streatham is tooimportant to be much abridged: "Dr. Burney, _when the Cecilian business was arranged_[1], againconveyed the Memorialist to Streatham. No further reluctance on hispart, nor exhortations on that of Mr. Crisp, sought to withdraw herfrom that spot, where, while it was in its glory, they had sorecently, and with pride, seen her distinguished. And truly eager washer own haste, when mistress of her time, to try once more to soothethose sorrows and chagrins in which she had most largelyparticipated, by answering to the call, which had never ceasedtenderly to pursue her, of return. "With alacrity, therefore, though not with gaiety, they re-enteredthe Streatham gates--but they soon perceived that they found not whatthey had left! "Changed, indeed, was Streatham! Gone its chief, and changed hisrelict! unaccountably, incomprehensibly, indefinably changed! She wasabsent and agitated; not two minutes could she remain in a place; shescarcely seemed to know whom she saw; her speech was so hurried itwas hardly intelligible; her eyes were assiduously averted from thosewho sought them; and her smiles were faint and forced. " [Footnote 1: This may mean when the arrangements were made for thepublication, or when the book was published. It was published aboutthe beginning of June, 1782. ] "The mystery, however, soon ceased; the solicitations of the mostaffectionate sympathy could not long be urged in vain;--the mysterypassed away--not so the misery! That, when revealed, was but to bothparties doubled, from the different feelings set in movement by itsdisclosure. "The astonishing history of the enigmatical attachment which impelledMrs. 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 thefact too deeply interested him, and was too intimately felt in hissocial habits, to be passed over in silence in any memoirs of hislife. "But while ignorant yet of its cause, more and more struck he becameat every meeting, by a species of general alienation which pervadedall around at Streatham. His visits, which, heretofore, had seemedgalas to Mrs. Thrale, were now begun and ended almost without notice:and all others, --Dr. Johnson not excepted, --were cast into the samegulph of general neglect, or forgetfulness;--all, --save singly thisMemorialist!--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 manymonths; during which_, with the acquiescent consent of the Doctor, his daughter, wholly devoted to her unhappy friend, _remaineduninterruptedly 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, inthe ignorance of her pity, she had herself unwittingly sought, evento him she was as immutably silent, on this subject, as to allothers--save, singly, to the eldest daughter of the house: whoseconduct, through scenes of dreadful difficulty, notwithstanding herextreme youth, was even exemplary; and to whom the self-beguiled, yetgenerous mother, gave full and free permission to confide everythought and feeling to the Memorialist. " * * * * * "Various incidental circumstances began, at length, to open thereluctant eyes of Dr. Burney to an impelled, though cloudedforesight, of the portentous event which might latently be the causeof the alteration of all around at Streatham. He then naturallywished for some explanation with his daughter, though he neverforced, or even claimed her confidence; well knowing, thatvoluntarily 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 thepaddock, turned back his head towards the house, and, in a tone themost impressive, sighed out: 'Adieu, Streatham!--Adieu!'" * * * * * "_A few weeks earlier_, the Memorialist had passed a nearly similarscene with Dr. Johnson. Not, however, she believes, from the sameformidable species of surmise; but from the wounds inflicted upon hisinjured sensibility, through the palpably altered looks, tone, anddeportment, of the bewildered lady of the mansion; who, cruelly awarewhat would be his wrath, and how overwhelming his reproaches againsther projected union, wished to break up their residing under the sameroof before it should be proclaimed. "This gave to her whole behaviour towards Dr. Johnson, a sort ofrestless petulancy, of which she was sometimes hardly conscious, atothers, nearly reckless; but which hurt him far more than shepurposed, _though short of the point at which she aimed_, ofprecipitating a change of dwelling that would elude its being cast, either by himself or the world, upon a passion that her understandingblushed to own, even while she was sacrificing to it all of inborndignity that she had been bred to hold most sacred. "Dr. Johnson, while still uninformed of an entanglement it wasimpossible he should conjecture, attributed her varying humours tothe 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 soberise themselves away in beingunnoticed. " "But at length, as she became more and more dissatisfied with her ownsituation, and impatient for its relief, she grew less and lessscrupulous with regard to her celebrated guest: she slighted hiscounsel; did not heed his remonstrances; avoided his society; wasready at a moment's hint to lend him her carriage when he wished toreturn to Bolt Court; but awaited a formal request to accord it forbringing him back. "The Doctor then began to be stung; his own aspect became altered;and depression, with indignant uneasiness, sat upon his venerablefront. "It was at this moment that, finding the Memorialist was going onemorning to St. Martin's Street, he desired a cast thither in thecarriage, and then to be set down at Bolt Court. "Aware of his disturbance, and far too well aware how short it was ofwhat it would become when the cause of all that passed should bedetected, it was in trembling that the Memorialist accompanied him tothe coach, filled with dread of offending him by any reserve, shouldhe force upon her any inquiry; and yet impressed with the utterimpossibility of betraying a trusted secret. "His look was stern, though dejected, as he followed her into thevehicle; but when his eye, which, however short-sighted, was quick tomental perception, saw how ill at ease appeared his companion, allsternness subsided into an undisguised expression of the strongestemotion, that seemed to claim her sympathy, though to revolt from hercompassion; while, with a shaking hand, and pointing finger, hedirected her looks to the mansion from which they were driving; and, when they faced it from the coach window, as they turned intoStreatham Common, tremulously exclaiming: 'That house . .. Is lost to_me_--for ever!' "During a moment he then fixed upon her an interrogative eye, thatimpetuously demanded: 'Do you not perceive the change I amexperiencing?' "A sorrowing sigh was her only answer. "Pride and delicacy then united to make him leave her to hertaciturnity. "He was too deeply, however, disturbed to start or to bear any othersubject; and neither of them uttered a single word till the coachstopt in St. Martin's Street, and the house and the carriage doorwere opened for their separation! He then suddenly and expressivelylooked at her, abruptly grasped her hand, and, with an air ofaffection, though in a low, husky voice, murmured rather than said:'Good morning, dear lady!' but turned his head quickly away, to avoidany species of answer. " "She was deeply touched by so gentle an acquiescence in her decliningthe confidential discourse upon which he had indubitably meant toopen, relative to this mysterious alienation. But she had the comfortto be satisfied, that he saw and believed in her sincereparticipation in his feelings; while he allowed for the gratefulattachment that bound her to a friend so loved; who, to her at least, still manifested a fervour of regard that resisted all change; alikefrom this new partiality, and from the undisguised, and evenstrenuous opposition of the Memorialist to its indulgence. " The Memoirs of Dr. Burney, by his daughter, published in 1832, together with her Diary and Letters, supplied the materials of LordMacaulay's celebrated article on Madame D'Arblay in the "EdinburghReview" for January, 1843, since reprinted amongst his Essays. Hedescribes the Memoirs as a book "which it is impossible to readwithout a sensation made up of mirth, shame, and loathing, " andadds:--"The two works are lying side by side before us; and we neverturn from the Memoirs to the Diary without a sense of relief. Thedifference is as great as the difference between the atmosphere of aperfumer's shop, scented with lavender water and jasmine soap, andthe air of a heath on a fine morning in May. "[1] [Footnote 1: Critical and Historical Essays (one volume edition), 1851, p. 652. The Memoirs were composed between 1828 and 1832, morethan forty years after the occurrence of the scenes I have quotedfrom them. ] The passages I have quoted amply establish the justice of thiscomparison, for they are utterly irreconcileable with the unvarnishedstatements of the Diary; from which we learn that "Cecilia" waspublished about the beginning of June, when Johnson was absent fromStreatham; that the Diarist had left Streatham prior to August 12th, and did not return to it again that year. How could she have passedmany months there after she was entrusted with the great secret, which (as stated in "Thraliana") she only guessed in September orOctober? How again could Johnson have attributed Mrs. Thrale's conduct tocaprices "partly wealthy, " when he knew that one main source of hertroubles was pecuniary; or how can his alleged sense of ill-treatmentbe reconciled with his own letters? That he groaned over the terribledisturbance of his habits involved in the abandonment of Streatham, is likely enough; but as the only words he uttered were, "That houseis lost to _me_ for ever, " and "Good morning, dear lady, " theaccompanying look is about as safe a foundation for a theory ofconduct or feeling as Lord Burleigh's famous nod in "The Critic. " Thephilosopher was at this very time an inmate of Streatham, andprobably returned that same evening to register a sample of itshospitality. At all events, we know that, spite of hints andwarnings, sighs and groans, he stuck to Streatham to the last; andfinally left it with Mrs. Thrale, as a member of her family, toreside in her house at Brighton, as her guest, for six weeks. [1] Totalk of conscious ill-treatment or wounded dignity, in the teeth offacts like these, is laughable. [Footnote 1: The Edinburgh reviewer says, "Johnson went in Oct. 1782from Streatham to Brighton, where he lived a kind of boarding-houselife;" and adds, "he was not asked out into company with hisfellow-lodgers. " The Thrales had a handsome furnished house atBrighton, which is mentioned both in the Correspondence andAutobiography. It is amusing enough to watch these attempts to shade away theruinous effect of the Brighton trip on Lord Macaulay's Streathampathos. ] Madame D'Arblay joined the party as Mrs. Thrale's guest on the 26thOctober, and on the 28th she writes: "At dinner, we had Dr. Delap and Mr. Selwyn, who accompanied us inthe evening to a ball; as did also Dr. Johnson, to the universalamazement of all who saw him there:--but he said he had found it sodull being quite alone the preceding evening, that he determined upongoing with us: 'for, ' he said, 'it cannot be worse than being alone. 'Strange that he should think so! I am sure I am not of his mind. " On the 29th, she records that Johnson behaved very rudely to Mr. Pepys, and fairly drove him from the house. The entry for November10th is remarkable:--"We spent this evening at Lady De Ferrars, whereDr. Johnson accompanied us, for the first time he has been invited ofour parties since my arrival. " On the 20th November, she tells usthat Mrs. And the three Miss Thrales and herself got up early tobathe. "We then returned home, and dressed by candle-light, and, _assoon as we could get Dr. Johnson ready_, we set out upon our journeyin a coach and a chaise, and arrived in Argyll Street at dinner time. Mrs. Thrale has there fixed her tent for this short winter, whichwill end with the beginning of April, when her foreign journey takesplace. " One incident of this Brighton trip is mentioned in the "Anecdotes": "We had got a little French print among us at Brighthelmstone, inNovember 1782, of some people skaiting, with these lines writtenunder: 'Sur un mince chrystal l'hyver conduit leurs pas, Le precipice est sous la glace; Telle est de nos plaisirs la légère surface, Glissez, mortels; n'appuyez pas. ' "And I begged translations from every body: Dr. Johnson gave me this: 'O'er ice the rapid skater flies, With sport above and death below; Where mischief lurks in gay disguise, Thus lightly touch and quickly go. ' "He was, however, most exceedingly enraged when he knew that in thecourse of the season I had asked half a dozen acquaintance to do thesame thing; and said, it was a piece of treachery, and done to makeevery body else look little when compared to my favourite friends the_Pepyses_, whose translations were unquestionably the best. "[1] [Footnote 1: By Sir Lucas: "O'er the ice, as o'er pleasure, you lightly should glide, Both have gulphs which their flattering surfaces hide. " By Sir William: "Swift o'er the level how the skaiters slide, And skim the glitt'ring surface as they go: Thus o'er life's specious pleasures lightly glide, But pause not, press not on the gulph below. "] Madame D'Arblay's Diary describes the outward and visible state ofthings at Brighton. "Thraliana" lays bare the internal history, thestruggles of the understanding and the heart: "At Brighthelmstone, whither I went when I left Streatham, 7thOctober 1782, I heard this comical epigram about the IrishVolunteers: "'There's not one of us all, my brave boys, but would rather Do ought than offend great King George our good father; But our country, you know, my dear lads, is our _mother_, And that is a much surer side than the other. '" "I had looked ill, or perhaps appeared to feel so much, that myeldest daughter would, out of tenderness perhaps, force me to anexplanation. I could, however, have evaded it if I would; but myheart was bursting, and partly from instinctive desire of unloadingit--partly, I hope, from principle, too--I called her into my roomand fairly told her the truth; told her the strength of my passionfor Piozzi, the impracticability of my living without him, theopinion I had of his merit, and the resolution I had taken to marryhim. Of all this she could not have been ignorant before. I confessedmy attachment to him and her together with many tears and agonies oneday at Streatham; told them both that I wished I had two hearts fortheir sakes, but having only one I would break it between them, andgive them each _ciascheduno la metà!_ After that conversation sheconsented to go abroad with me, and even appointed the place (Lyons), to which Piozzi meant to follow us. He and she talked long togetheron the subject; yet her never mentioning it again made me fear shewas not fully apprized of my intent, and though her concurrence mighthave been more easily obtained when left only to my influence in adistant country, where she would have had no friend to support herdifferent opinion--yet I scorned to take such mean advantage, andtold her my story _now_, with the winter before her in which to takeher measures--her guardians at hand--all displeased at the journey:and to console her private distress I called into the room to her myown bosom friend, my beloved Fanny Burney, whose interest as well asjudgment goes all against my marriage; whose skill in life andmanners is superior to that of any man or woman in this age ornation; whose knowledge of the world, ingenuity of expedient, delicacy of conduct, and zeal in the cause, will make her acounsellor invaluable, and leave me destitute of every comfort, ofevery hope, of every expectation. "Such are the hands to which I have cruelly committed thy cause--myhonourable, ardent, artless Piozzi!! Yet I should not deserve theunion I desire with the most disinterested of all human hearts, had Ibehaved with less generosity, or endeavoured to gain by cunning whatis withheld by prejudice. Had I set my heart upon a scoundrel, Imight have done virtuously to break it and get loose; but the man Ilove, I love for his honesty, for his tenderness of heart, hisdignity of mind, his piety to God, his duty to his mother, and hisdelicacy to me. In being united to this man only can I be happy inthis world, and short will be my stay in it, if it is not passed withhim. " "_Brighthelmstone, 16th November 1782_. --For him I have beencontented to reverse the laws of nature, and request of my child thatconcurrence which, at my age and a widow, I am not required either bydivine or human institutions to ask even of a parent. The life I gaveher she may now more than repay, only by agreeing to what she willwith difficulty prevent; and which, if she does prevent, will giveher lasting remorse; for those who stab _me_ shall hear me groan:whereas if she will--but how can she?--gracefully or evencompassionately consent; if she will go abroad with me upon thechance of his death or mine preventing our union, and live with metill she is of age-- . .. Perhaps there is no heart so callous byavarice, no soul so poisoned by prejudice, no head so feather'd byfoppery, that will forbear to excuse her when she returns to the richand the gay--for having saved the life of a mother thro' compliance, extorted by anguish, contrary to the received opinions of the world. " "_Brighthelmstone, 19th November, 1782_. --What is above written, though intended only to unload my heart by writing it, I shewed in atransport of passion to Queeney and to Burney. Sweet Fanny Burneycried herself half blind over it; said there was no resisting suchpathetic eloquence, and that, if she was the daughter instead of thefriend, she should be tempted to attend me to the altar; but that, while she possessed her reason, nothing should seduce her to approvewhat reason itself would condemn: that children, religion, situation, country, and character--besides the diminution of fortune by thecertain loss of 800_l. _ a year, were too much to sacrifice for any_one man_. If, however, I were resolved to make the sacrifice, _a labonne heure!_ it was an astonishing proof of an attachment verydifficult for mortal man to repay. " "I will talk no more about it. " What comes next was written in London: "_Nov. 27, 1782_. --I have given my Piozzi some hopes--dear, generous, prudent, noble-minded creature; he will hardly permit himself tobelieve it ever can be--_come quei promessi miracoli_, says he, _chenon vengono mai_. For rectitude of mind and native dignity of soul Inever saw his fellow. " "_Dec. 1, 1782_. --The guardians have met upon the scheme of puttingour girls in Chancery. I was frighted at the project, not doubtingbut the Lord Chancellor would stop us from leaving England, as hewould certainly see no joke in three young heiresses, his wards, quitting the kingdom to frisk away with their mother into Italy:besides that I believe Mr. Crutchley proposed it merely for astumbling-block to my journey, as he cannot bear to have Hester outof his sight. "Nobody much applauded my resolution in going, but Johnson and Catorsaid they would not concur in stopping me by violence, and Crutchleywas forced to content himself with intending to put the ladies underlegal protection as soon as we should be across the sea. This measureI much applaud, for if I die or marry in Italy their fortunes will besafer in Chancery than any how else. Cator[1] said _I_ had a right tosay that going to Italy would benefit the children as much as _they_had to say it would _not_; but I replied that as I really did notmean anything but my own private gratification by the voyage, nothingshould make me say I meant _their_ good by it; and that it would belike saying I eat roast beef to mend my daughters' complexions. Theresult of all is that we certainly _do go_. I will pick up whatknowledge and pleasure I can here this winter to divert myself, andperhaps my _compagno fidele_ in distant climes and future times, withthe recollection of England and its inhabitants, all which I shall behappy and content to leave _for him_. " [Footnote 1: _Note by Mrs. T. :_ "Cator said likewise that theattorney's bill ought to be paid by the ladies as a bill of Mr. Thrale's, but I replied that perhaps I might marry and give my estateaway, and if so it would be unjust that they should pay the billwhich related to that estate only. Besides, if I should leave it toHester, says I, . .. Why should Susan and Sophy and Cecilia andHarriet pay the lawyer's bill for their sister's land? He agreed tothis plea, and I will live on bread and water, but I will pay Norrismyself. 'Tis but being a better huswife in pins. "] Madame D'Arblay writes, Friday, December 27th, 1782: "I dined with Mrs. Thrale and Dr. Johnson, who was very comic andgood-humoured. .. . Mrs. Thrale, who was to have gone with me to Mrs. Orde's, gave up her visit in order to stay with Dr. Johnson. MissThrale, therefore, and I went together. " I return to "Thraliana": "_January_, 1783. --A fit of jealousy seized me the other day: someviper had stung me up to a notion that my Piozzi was fond of a MissChanon. I call'd him gently to account, and after contenting myselfwith slight excuses, told him that, whenever we married, I should, however, desire to see as little as possible of the lady _cheznous_. " There is a large gap in "Thraliana" just in the most interesting partof the story of her parting with Piozzi in 1783, and his recall. "_January 29, 1783_. --Adieu to all that's dear, to all that's lovely;I am parted from my life, my soul, my Piozzi. If I can get health andstrength to write my story here, 'tis all I wish for now--oh misery![Here are four pages missing. ] The cold dislike of my eldest daughterI thought might wear away by familiarity with his merit, and that wemight live tolerably together, or, at least, part friends--but no;her aversion increased daily, and she communicated it to the others;they treated _me_ insolently, and _him_ very strangely--running awaywhenever he came as if they saw a serpent--and plotting with theirgoverness--a cunning Italian--how to invent lyes to make me hate him, and twenty such narrow tricks. By these means the notion of mypartiality took air, and whether Miss Thrale sent him word slily ornot I cannot tell, but on the 25th January, 1783, Mr. Crutchley camehither to conjure me not to go to Italy; he had heard such things, hesaid, and by _means_ next to _miraculous_. The next day, Sunday, 26th, Fanny Burney came, said I must marry him instantly or give himup; that my reputation would be lost else. "I actually groaned with anguish, threw myself on the bed in an agonywhich my fair daughter beheld with frigid indifference. She hadindeed never by one tender word endeavoured to dissuade me from thematch, but said, coldly, that if I _would_ abandon my children I_must_; that their father had not deserved such treatment from me;that I should be punished by Piozzi's neglect, for that she knew hehated me; and that I turned out my offspring to chance for his sake, like puppies in a pond to swim or drown according as Providencepleased; that for her part she must look herself out a place like theother servants, for my face would she never see more. ' 'Nor write tome?' said I. 'I shall not, madam, ' replied she with a cold sneer, 'easily find out your address; for you are going you know notwhither, I believe. ' "Susan and Sophy said nothing at all, but they taught the two youngones to cry 'Where are you going, mama? will you leave us and die asour poor papa did?' There was no standing _that_. , so I wrote mylover word that my mind was all distraction, and bid him come to methe next morning, 27th January--my birthday--and spent the Sundaynight in torture not to be described. My falsehood to my Piozzi, mystrong affection for him, the incapacity I felt in myself to resignthe man I so adored, the hopes I had so cherished, inclined mestrongly to set them all at defiance, and go with him to church tosanctify the promises I had so often made him; while the idea ofabandoning the children of my first husband, who left me so noblyprovided for, and who depended on my attachment to his offspring, awakened the voice of conscience, and threw me on my knees to prayfor _His_ direction who was hereafter to judge my conduct. His graceilluminated me, His power strengthened me, and I flew to mydaughter's bed in the morning and told her my resolution to resign myown, my dear, my favourite purpose, and to prefer my children'sinterest to my love. She questioned my ability to make the sacrifice;said one word from him would undo all my--[Here two pages aremissing]. "I told Dr. Johnson and Mr. Crutchley three days ago that I haddetermined--seeing them so averse to it--that I would not go abroad, but that, if I did not leave England, I _would_ leave London, where Ihad not been treated to my mind, and where I had flung away muchunnecessary money with little satisfaction; that I was greatly indebt, and somewhat like distress'd: that borrowing was always bad, but of one's children worst: that Mr. Crutchley's objection to theirlending me their money when I had a mortgage to offer as security, was unkind and harsh: that I would go live in a little way at Bathtill I had paid all my debts and cleared my income: that I would nomore be tyrannized over by people who hated or people who plunderedme, in short that I would retire and save my money and lead thisuncomfortable life no longer. They made little or no reply, and I amresolved to do as I declared. I will draw in my expenses, lay byevery shilling I can to pay off debts and mortgages, and perhaps--whoknows? I may in six or seven years be freed from all incumbrances, and carry a clear income of 2500_l. _ a year and an estate of 500_l. _in land to the man of my heart. May I but live to discharge myobligations to those who _hate me_; it will be paradise to dischargethem to him who _loves me_. " "_April, 1783_. --I will go to Bath: nor health, nor strength, nor mychildren's affections, have I. My daughter does not, I suppose, muchdelight in this scheme [viz, retrenchment of expenses and removal toBath], but why should I lead a life of delighting her, who would notlose a shilling of interest or an ounce of pleasure to save my lifefrom perishing? When I was near losing my existence from thecontentions of my mind, and was seized with a temporary delirium inArgyll Street, she and her two eldest sisters laughed at my distress, and observed to dear Fanny Burney, that it was _monstrous droll_. _She_ could hardly suppress her indignation. "Piozzi was ill. .. . A sore throat, Pepys said it was, with fourulcers in it: the people about me said it had been lanced, and Imentioned it slightly before the girls. ' Has he cut his own throat?'says Miss Thrale in her quiet manner. This was less inexcusablebecause she hated him, and the other was her sister; though, had sheexerted the good sense I thought her possessed of, she would not havetreated him so: had she adored, and fondled, and respected him as hedeserved from her hands, and from the heroic conduct he shewed inJanuary when he gave into her hands, that dismal day, all my letterscontaining promises of marriage, protestations of love, &c. , whoknows but she might have kept us separated? But never did she oncecaress or thank me, never treat him with common civility, except onthe very day which gave her hopes of our final parting. Worth whileto be sure it was, to break one's heart for her! The other two are, however, neither wiser nor kinder; all swear by her I believe, andfollow her footsteps exactly. Mr. Thrale had not much heart, but hisfair daughters have none at all. "[1] [Footnote 1: This is the very accusation they brought against her. ] Johnson was not called in to counsel on these matters of the heart, but he was not cast off or neglected. Madame D'Arblay lands him inArgyll Street on the 20th November, 1782. We hear of him at Mrs. Thrale's house or in her company repeatedly from Madame D'Arblay andDr. Lort. "Johnson, " writes Dr. Lort, January 28th, 1783, "is muchbetter. I saw him the other evening at Madame Thrale's in very goodspirits. " Boswell says: "On Friday, March 21, (1783) having arrived in London the nightbefore, I was glad to find him at Mrs. Thrale's house, in ArgyleStreet, appearances of friendship between them being still kept up. Iwas shown into his room; and after the first salutation he said, 'Iam glad you are come; I am very ill'. .. . "He sent a message to acquaint Mrs. Thrale that I was arrived. I hadnot seen her since her husband's death. She soon appeared, andfavoured me with an invitation to stay to dinner, which I accepted. There was no other company but herself and three of her daughters, Dr. Johnson, and I. She too said she was very glad I was come; forshe was going to Bath, and should have been sorry to leave Dr. Johnson before I came. This seemed to be attentive and kind; and I, _who had not been informed of any change, imagined all to be as wellas formerly_. He was little inclined to talk at dinner, and went tosleep after it; but when he joined us in the drawing-room he seemedrevived, and was again himself. " This is quite decisive so far as Boswell is concerned, and disposesat once of all his preceding insinuations to her disadvantage. He hadnot seen her before since Thrale's death; and now, finding themtogether and jealously scrutinising their tone and manner towardseach, he imagined all to be as well as formerly. [1] That they were onthe point of living apart, and of keeping up their habitualinterchange of mind exclusively by letters, is no proof that eitherwas capriciously or irrecoverably estranged. [Footnote 1: "Now on March 21, 1783, fifteen months before themarriage in question, Boswell speaks of the severance of the oldfriendship as effected: 'appearances of friendship, ' he says, 'werestill maintained between them. ' Boswell was at feud with the ladywhen he wrote, as we all know. But his evidence is surely sufficientas to the fact of the rupture, though not as to its causes. "--_(Edin. Rev. _ p. 510. ) Boswell's concluding evidence, that to the best of hisknowledge and observation, there was no change or rupture, issuppressed!] The pleasures of intimacy in friendship depend far more on externalcircumstances than people of a sentimental turn of mind are willingto concede; and when constant companionship ceases to suit theconvenience of both parties, the chances are that it will be droppedon the first favourable opportunity. Admiration, esteem, or affectionmay continue to be felt for one whom, from altered habits or newties, we can no longer receive as an inmate or an established memberof the family. Johnson was now in his seventy-fourth year, haunted bythe fear of death, and fond of dwelling nauseously on his ailmentsand proposed remedies. From what passed at Brighton, it would seemthat there were moods in which he was positively unbearable, andcould not be received in a house without driving every one else outof it. In a roomy mansion like Streatham he might be endured, becausehe could be kept out of the way; but in an ordinary town-house orsmall establishment, such a guest would resemble an elephant in aprivate menagerie. There is also a very great difference, when arrangements are to bemade for the domestication of a male visitor, between a family with amale head, and one consisting exclusively of females. Let any widowwith daughters make the case her own, and imagine herselfdomesticated in Argyll or Harley Street with the lexicographer. Themanly authority of Thrale was required to keep Johnson in order quiteas much as to steady the imputed flightiness of the lady; and hisidolaters must really remember that she was a sentient being, withfeelings and affections which she was fully entitled to consult inarranging her scheme of life. When Lord Macaulay and his schooltacitly assume that these are to weigh as dust in the balance againstthe claims of learning, they argue like sundry upholders of thetemporal sovereignty of the Pope, who contend that his subjectsshould complacently endure any amount of oppression rather thanendanger (what they deem) the vital interests of the Church. When itis maintained that the discomfort was amply repaid by the glory heconferred, we are reminded of what the Strasbourg goose undergoes forfame: "Crammed with food, deprived of drink, and fixed near a greatfire, before which it is nailed with its feet upon a plank, thisgoose passes, it must be owned, an uncomfortable life. The tormentwould indeed be intolerable, if the idea of the lot which awaits himdid not serve as a consolation. But when he reflects that his liver, bigger than himself, loaded with truffles, and clothed in ascientific _patè_, will, through the instrumentality of M. Corcellet, diffuse all over Europe the glory of his name, he resigns himself tohis destiny, and suffers not a tear to flow. "[1] [Footnote 1: Almanach des Gourmands. ] Her case for a separation _de corps_ is thus stated in the "Anecdotes": "All these exactnesses in a man who was nothing less than exacthimself, made him extremely impracticable as an inmate, though mostinstructive as a companion, and useful as a friend. Mr. Thrale toocould sometimes overrule his rigidity, by saying coldly, 'There, there, now we have had enough for one lecture, Dr. Johnson, we willnot be upon education any more till after dinner, if you please, '--orsome such speech; but when there was nobody to restrain his dislikes, it was extremely difficult to find any body with whom he couldconverse, without living always on the verge of a quarrel, or ofsomething too like a quarrel to be pleasing. I came into the room, for example, one evening, where he and a gentleman, whose abilitieswe all respected exceedingly, were sitting; a lady who had walked intwo minutes before me had blown 'em both into a flame, by whisperingsomething to Mr. S----d, which he endeavoured to explain away, so asnot to affront the Doctor, whose suspicions were all alive. 'And havea care, Sir, ' said he, just as I came in; 'the old lion will not bearto be tickled. '[1] The other was pale with rage, the lady wept at theconfusion she had caused, and I could only say with Lady Macbeth, 'So! you've displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting With most admir'd disorder. ' "Such accidents, however, occurred too often, and I was forced totake advantage of my lost lawsuit, and plead inability of purse toremain longer in London or its vicinage. I had been crossed in myintentions of going abroad, and found it convenient, for every reasonof health, peace, and pecuniary circumstances, to retire to Bath, where I knew Mr. Johnson would not follow me, and where I could forthat reason command some little portion of time for my own use; athing impossible while I remained at Streatham or at London, as myhours, carriage, and servants, had long been at his command, whowould not rise in the morning till twelve o'clock perhaps, and obligeme to make breakfast for him till the bell rung for dinner, thoughmuch displeased if the toilet was neglected, and though much of thetime we passed together was spent in blaming or deriding, veryjustly, my neglect of economy, and waste of that money which mightmake many families happy. The original reason of our connexion, his_particularly disordered health and spirits_[2], had been long at anend, and he had no other ailments than old age and general infirmity, which every professor of medicine was ardently zealous and generallyattentive to palliate, and to contribute all in their power for theprolongation of a life so valuable. "Veneration for his virtue, reverence for his talents, delight in hisconversation, and habitual endurance of a yoke my husband first putupon me, and of which he contentedly bore his share for sixteen orseventeen years, made me go on so long with Mr. Johnson; but theperpetual confinement I will own to have been terrifying in the firstyears of our friendship, and irksome in the last, nor could I pretendto support it without help, when my coadjutor was no more. To theassistance we gave him, the shelter our house afforded to his uneasyfancies, and to the pains we took to soothe or repress them, theworld perhaps is indebted for the three political pamphlets, the newedition and correction of his Dictionary, and for the Poets' Lives, which he would scarce have lived, I think, and kept his facultiesentire, to have written, had not incessant care been exerted at thetime of his first coming to be our constant guest in the country; andseveral times after that, when he found himself particularlyoppressed with diseases incident to the most vivid and ferventimaginations. I shall for ever consider it as the greatest honourwhich could be conferred on any one, to have been the confidentialfriend of Dr. Johnson's health; and to have in some measure, with Mr. Thrale's assistance, saved from distress at least, if not from worse, a mind great beyond the comprehension of common mortals and goodbeyond all hope of imitation from perishable beings. " [Footnote 1: This must be the quarrel between Johnson and Seward atwhich Miss Streatfield cried. _(Antè, _ p. 116. )] [Footnote 2: These words are underlined in the manuscript. ] This was written in Italy in 1785, when, painfully alive to theinsults heaped upon her on Johnson's account, she may be excused fordwelling on what she had endured for his sake. But if, as may beinferred from her statement, some of the cordiality shewn him duringthe palmy days of their intimacy was forced, this rather enhancesthan lessens the merit of her services, which thus become elevatedinto sacrifices. The question is not how she uniformly felt, but howshe uniformly behaved to him; and the fact of her being obliged toretire to Bath to get out of his way proves that there had been norupture, no coolness, no serious offence given or taken on eitherside, up to April, 1783; just one year-and-a-half after the allegedexpulsion from Streatham. There were ample avowable reasons for her retirement, and nosuspicion could have crossed Johnson's mind that he was anincumbrance, or he would not have been found at her house by Boswell, as he was found on the 21st March, 1783, when she said "she was goingto Bath, and should have been sorry to leave Dr. Johnson before Icame. " Considering the heart-rending struggle in which she wasengaged at this time, with the aggravated infliction of anunsympathising and dogmatic friend, the wonder is how she retainedher outward placidity at all. "_Sunday Morning, 6th April_, 1783. --I have been very busy preparingto go to Bath and save my money; the Welch settlement has beenexamined and rewritten by Cator's desire in such a manner that a willcan revoke it or charge the estate, or anything. I signed mysettlement yesterday, and, before I slept, wrote my will, chargingthe estate with pretty near _3000l_. But what signifies it? Mydaughters deserve no thanks from my tenderness and they want nopecuniary help from my purse--let me provide in some measure, for mydear, my absent Piozzi. --God give me strength to part with himcourageously. --I expect him every instant to breakfast with me forthe _last time_. --Gracious Heavens, what words are these! Oh no, formercy may we but meet again! and without diminished kindness. Oh mylove, my love! "We did meet and part courageously. I persuaded him to bring his oldfriend Mecci, who goes abroad with him and has long been hisconfidant, to keep the meeting from being too tender, the separationfrom being too poignant--his presence was a restraint on our conduct, and a witness of our vows, which we renewed with fervour, and willkeep sacred in absence, adversity, and age. When all was over I flewto my dearest, loveliest friend, my Fanny Burney, and poured all mysorrows into her tender bosom. " "_Bath, April 14th, 1783. _--Here I am, settled in my plan of economy, with three daughters, three maids and a man, " &c. Piozzi left England the night of the 8th May, 1783. "Come, friendly muse! some rhimes discover With which to meet my dear at Dover, Fondly to bless my wandering lover And make him dote on dirty Dover. Call each fair wind to waft him over, Nor let him linger long at Dover, But there from past fatigues recover, And write his love some lines from Dover. Too well he knows his skill to move her, To meet him two years hence at Dover, When happy with her handsome rover She'll bless the day she din'd at Dover. " "_Russell Street, Bath, Thursday, 8th May_, 1783. --I sent him theseverses to divert him on his passage. Dear angel! _this day_ he leavesa nation to which he was sent for my felicity perhaps, I hope for hisown. May I live but to make him happy, and hear him say 'tis _me_that make him so!"-- In a note on the passage in which he states that Johnson studiouslyavoided all mention of Streatham or the family after Thrale's death, Hawkins says:--"It seems that between him and the widow there was aformal taking of leave, for I find in his Diary the following note:'1783, April 5th, I took leave of Mrs. Thrale. I was much moved. Ihad some expostulations with her. She said she was likewise affected. I commended the Thrales with great good will to God; may my petitionshave been heard. '" This being the day before her parting interviewwith Piozzi, no doubt she was much affected: and as the newspapershad already taken up the topic of her engagement, the expostulationsprobably referred to it. Preceding commentators were not bound to know what is now learnedfrom "Thraliana"; but they were bound to know what might always havebeen learned from Johnson's printed letters; and the tone of thesefrom the separation in April, 1783, to the marriage in July, 1784, isidentically the same as at any period of the intimacy which can bespecified. There are the same warm expressions of regard, the samegratitude for acknowledged kindness, the same alternations of hopeand disappointment, the same medical details, and the same reproachesfor silence or fancied coldness, in which he habitually indulgedtowards all his female correspondents. Shew me a complaint orreproach, and I will instantly match it with one from a period whenthe intimacy was confessedly and notoriously at its height. If heroccasional explosions of irritability are to be counted, whatinference is to be drawn from Johnson's depreciatory remarks on her, and indeed on everybody, so carefully treasured up by Hawkins andBoswell? On June 13th, 1783, he writes to her: "Your last letter was very pleasing; it expressed kindness to me, andsome degree of placid acquiescence in your present mode of life, _which is, I think, the best which is at present within your reach_. "My powers and attention have for a long time been almost whollyemployed upon my health, I hope not wholly without success, butsolitude is very tedious. " She replies: "Bath, June 15th, 1783. "I believe it is too true, my dear Sir, that you think on littleexcept yourself and your own health, but then they are subjects onwhich every one else would think too--and that is a greatconsolation. "I am willing enough to employ all my thoughts upon _myself_, butthere is nobody here who wishes to think with or about me, so I amvery sick and a little sullen, and disposed now and then to say, likeking David, 'My lovers and my friends have been put away from me, andmy acquaintance hid out of my sight. ' If the last letter I wroteshowed some degree of placid acquiescence in a situation, which, however displeasing, is the best I can get at just now, I pray God tokeep me in that disposition, and to lay no more calamity upon mewhich may again tempt me to murmur and complain. _In the meantimeassure yourself of my undiminished kindness and veneration: they havebeen long out of accident's power either to lessen or increase. "_. .. . "That _you_ should be solitary is a sad thing, and a strange one too, when every body is willing to drop in, and for a quarter of an hourat least, save you from a _tête-à-tête_ with yourself. I never couldcatch a moment when you were alone whilst we were in London, and MissThrale says the same thing. " A few days afterwards, June 19th, he writes: "I am sitting down in no cheerful solitude to write a narrative whichwould once have affected you with tenderness and sorrow, but whichyou will perhaps pass over now with the careless glance of frigidindifference. For this diminution of regard, however, I know notwhether I ought to blame you, who may have reasons which I cannotknow, and I do not blame myself, who have for a great part of humanlife done you what good I could, and have never done you evil. " Two days before, he had suffered a paralytic stroke, and lost thepower of speech for a period. After minutely detailing his ailmentsand their treatment by his medical advisers, he proceeds: "How this will be received by you I know not. I hope you willsympathise with me; but perhaps "My mistress gracious, mild, and good, Cries! Is he dumb? 'Tis time he should. "But can this be possible? I hope it cannot. I hope that what, when Icould speak, I spoke of you, and to you, will be in a sober andserious hour remembered by you; and surely it cannot be rememberedbut with some degree of kindness. I have loved you with virtuousaffection; I have honoured you with sincere esteem. Let not all ourendearments be forgotten, but let me have in this great distress yourpity and your prayers. _You see, I yet turn to you with my complaintsas a settled and unalienable friend_; do not, do not drive me fromyou, for I have not deserved either neglect or hatred. "O God! give me comfort and confidence in Thee; forgive my sins; andif it be thy good pleasure, relieve my diseases for Jesus Christ'ssake. Amen. _"I am almost ashamed of this querulous letter, but now it iswritten, let it go. "_ The Edinburgh reviewer quotes the first paragraph of this letter toprove Johnson's consciousness of change on her side, and omits allmention of the passages in which he turns to her as "a settled andunalienable friend, " and apologises for his querulousness! Some time before (November 1782), she had written to him: "My health is growing very bad, to be sure. I will starve still morerigidly for a while, and watch myself carefully; but more than sixmonths will I not bestow upon that subject; you shall not have in mea valetudinary correspondent, _who is always writing such letters, that to read the labels tied on bottles by an apothecary's boy wouldbe more eligible and amusing_; nor will I live, like Flavia in 'Law'sSerious Call, ' who spends half her time and money on herself, withsleeping draughts, and waking draughts, and cordials and broths. Mydesire is always to determine against my own gratification, so far asshall be possible for my body to co-operate with my mind, and youwill not suspect me of wearing blisters, and living wholly uponvegetables for sport. If that will do, the disorder may be removed;but if health is gone, and gone for ever, we will act as ZacharyPearce the famous bishop of Rochester did, when he lost the wife heloved so--call for one glass to the health of her who is departed, never more to return--and so go quietly back to the usual duties oflife, and forbear to mention her again from that time till the lastday of it. " Instead of acting on the same principle, he perseveres in addressinghis "ideal Urania" as if she had been a consulting physician: "London, June 20th, 1783. "DEAREST MADAM, --I think to send you for some time a regular diary. You will forgive the gross images which disease must necessarilypresent. Dr. Lawrence said that medical treatises should be always inLatin. The two vesicatories did not perform well, " &c. &c. "June 23, 1783. "_Your offer, dear Madam, of coming to me, is charmingly kind_; but Iwill lay it up for future use, and then let it not be considered asobsolete; _a time of dereliction may come, when I may have hardly anyother friend_, but in the present exigency I cannot name one who hasbeen deficient in civility or attention. What man can do for man hasbeen done for me. Write to me very often. " That the offer was serious and heartfelt, is clear from "Thraliana": "_Bath, June 24th_, 1783. --A stroke of the palsy has robbed Johnsonof his speech, I hear. Dreadful event! and I at a distance. Poorfellow! A letter from himself, _in his usual style_, convinces methat none of his faculties have failed, and his physicians say thatall present danger is over. " He writes: "June 24th, 1783. "Both Queeny's letter and yours gave me, to-day, great pleasure. Think as well and as kindly of me as you can, but do not flatter me. Cool reciprocations of esteem are the great comforts of life;hyberbolical praise only corrupts the tongue of the one, and the earof the other. " "June 28th, 1783. "Your letter is just such as I desire, and as from you I hope alwaysto deserve. " Her own state of mind at this time may be collected from "Thraliana": "_June, _1783. --Most sincerely do I regret the sacrifice I have madeof health, happiness, and the society of a worthy and amiablecompanion, to the pride and prejudice of three insensible girls, whowould see nature perish without concern . .. Were their gratificationthe cause. "The two youngest have, for ought I see, hearts as impenetrable astheir sister. They will all starve a favourite animal--all see withunconcern the afflictions of a friend; and when the anguish Isuffered on their account last winter, in Argyll Street, nearly tookaway my life and reason, the younger ridiculed as a jest thoseagonies which the eldest despised as a philosopher. When all is said, they are exceeding valuable girls--beautiful in person, cultivated inunderstanding, and well-principled in religion: high in theirnotions, lofty in their carriage, and of intents equal to theirexpectations; wishing to raise their own family by connections withsome more noble . .. And superior to any feeling of tenderness whichmight clog the wheels of ambition. What, however, is my state? who amcondemned to live with girls of this disposition? to teach withoutauthority; to be heard without esteem; to be considered by them astheir superior in fortune, while I live by the money borrowed fromthem; and in good sense, when they have seen me submit my judgment totheirs at the hazard of my life and wits. Oh, 'tis a pleasantsituation! and whoever would wish, as the Greek lady phrased it, toteize himself and repent of his sins, let him borrow his children'smoney, be in love against their interest and prejudice, forbear tomarry by their advice, and then shut himself up and live withthem. "[1] [Footnote 1: After Buckingham had been some time married to Fairfax'sdaughter, he said it was like marrying the devil's daughter andkeeping house with your father-in-law. ] Is it possible to misconstrue such a letter as the following fromJohnson to her, now that the querulous and desponding tone of thewriter is familiar to us? "London, Nov. 13th, 1783. "DEAR MADAM, --Since you have written to me with the attention andtenderness of ancient time, your letters give me a great part of thepleasure which a life of solitude admits. You will never bestow anyshare of your good-will on one who deserves better. Those that haveloved longest, love best. A sudden blaze of kindness may by a singleblast of coldness be extinguished, but that fondness which length oftime has connected with many circumstances and occasions, though itmay for a while be suppressed by disgust or resentment, with orwithout a cause, is hourly revived by accidental recollection. [1] Tothose that have lived long together, every thing heard and everything seen recals some pleasure communicated, or some benefitconferred, some petty quarrel, or some slight endearment. Esteem ofgreat powers, or amiable qualities newly discovered, may embroider aday or a week, but a friendship of twenty years is interwoven withthe texture of life. A friend may be often found and lost, but an_old friend_ never can be found, and Nature has provided that hecannot easily be lost. " [Footnote 1: "Yet, oh yet thyself deceive not: Love may sink by slow decay, But by sudden wrench believe not Hearts can thus be torn away. "--BYRON. ] The date of the following scene, as described by Madame D'Arblay inthe "Memoirs, " is towards the end of November, 1783: "Nothing had yet publicly transpired, with certainty or authority, relative to the projects of Mrs. Thrale, who had now been nearly ayear at Bath[1]; though nothing was left unreported, or unasserted, with respect to her proceedings. Nevertheless, how far Dr. Johnsonwas 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 BoltCourt, ere she saw the justice of her long apprehensions; for whileshe planned speaking upon some topic that might have a chance tocatch the attention of the Doctor, a sudden change from kindtranquillity to strong austerity took place in his alteredcountenance; and, startled and affrighted, she held her peace. .. . "Thus passed a few minutes, in which she scarcely dared breathe;while the respiration of the Doctor, on the contrary, was ofasthmatic force and loudness; then, suddenly turning to her, with anair of mingled wrath and woe, he hoarsely ejaculated: 'Piozzi!' "He evidently meant to say more; but the effort with which hearticulated that name robbed him of any voice for amplification, andhis whole frame grew tremulously convulsed. "His guest, appalled, could not speak; but he soon discerned that itwas grief from coincidence, not distrust from opposition ofsentiment, that caused her taciturnity. This perception calmed him, and he then exhibited a face 'in sorrow more than anger. ' Hissee-sawing abated of its velocity, and, again fixing his looks uponthe fire, he fell into pensive rumination. "At length, and with great agitation, he broke forth with: 'She caresfor no one! You, only--You, she loves still!--but no one--and nothingelse!--You she still loves----' "A half smile now, though of no very gay character, softened a littlethe severity of his features, while he tried to resume somecheerfulness in adding: 'As . .. She loves her little finger!' "It was plain by this burlesque, or, perhaps, playfully literalcomparison, that he meant now, and tried, to dissipate the solemnityof his concern. "The hint was taken; his guest started another subject; and this heresumed no more. He saw how distressing was the theme to a hearerwhom he ever wished to please, not distress; and he named Mrs. Thraleno more! Common topics took place, till they were rejoined by Dr. Burney, whom then, and indeed always, he likewise spared upon thissubject. " [Footnote 1: About six months. ] After quoting this description at length, Lord Brougham remarks: "Now Johnson was, perhaps unknown to himself, in love with Mrs. Thrale, but for Miss Burney's thoughtless folly there can be noexcuse. And her father, a person of the very same rank and professionwith Mr. Piozzi, appears to have adopted the same senseless cant, asif it were less lawful to marry an Italian musician than an English. To be sure, Miss Burney says, that Mrs. Thrale was lineally descendedfrom Adam de Saltsburg, who came over with the Conqueror. Butassuredly that worthy, unable to write his name, would have held Dr. Johnson himself in as much contempt as his fortunate rival, and wouldhave regarded his alliance as equally disreputable with theItalian's, could his consent have been asked. "[1] [Footnote 1: Lives of Men of Letters, &c, vol. Ii. ] If the scene took place at all, it must have taken place within a fewdays after the profession of satisfied and unaltered friendshipcontained in Johnson's letter of November 13th. His next letter is toMiss Thrale: "Nov. 18th, 1783. "Dear Miss, --Here is a whole week, and nothing heard from your house. Baretti said what a wicked house it would be, and a wicked house itis. Of you, however, I have no complaint to make, for I owe you aletter. Still I live here by my own self, and have had of late verybad nights; but then I have had a pig to dinner, which Mr. Perkinsgave me. Thus life is chequered. " On February 24th, 1784, Dr. Lort writes to Bishop Percy: "Poor Dr. Johnson has had a very bad winter, attended by Heberden andBrocklesby, who neither of them expected he would have survived thefrost: that being gone, he still remains, and I hope will nowcontinue, at least till the next severe one. It has indeed carriedoff a great many old people. " Johnson to Mrs. Thrale: "March 10th, 1784. "Your kind expressions gave me great pleasure; do not reject me fromyour thoughts. Shall we ever exchange confidence by the firesideagain?" He was so absorbed with his own complaints as to make no allowancefor hers. Yet her health was in a very precarious state, and in theautumn of the same year, his complaints of silence and neglect weresuspended by the intelligence that her daughter Sophia was lying atdeath's door. On March 27th, 1784, she writes: "You tell one of my daughters that you know not with distinctness thecause of my complaints. I believe she who lives with me knows them nobetter; one very dreadful one is however removed by dear Sophia'srecovery. It is kind in you to quarrel no more about expressionswhich were not meant to offend; but unjust to suppose, I have notlately thought myself dying. Let us, however, take the Prince ofAbyssinia's advice, _and not add to the other evils of life thebitterness of controversy. _ If courage is a noble and generousquality, let us exert it _to_ the last, and _at_ the last: if faithis a Christian virtue, let us willingly receive and accept thatsupport it will most surely bestow--and do permit me to repeat thosewords with which I know not why you were displeased: _Let us leavebehind us the best example that we can_. "All this is not written by a person in high health and happiness, but by a fellow-sufferer, who has more to endure than she can tell, or you can guess; and now let us talk of the Severn salmons, whichwill be coming in soon; I shall send you one of the finest, and shallbe glad to hear that your appetite is good. " Johnson to Mrs. Thrale: "April 21st, 1784. "The Hooles, Miss Burney, and Mrs. Hull (Wesley's sister), feastedyesterday with me very cheerfully on your noble salmon. Mr. Allencould not come, and I sent him a piece, and a great tail is stillleft. " "April 26th, 1784. "Mrs. Davenant called to pay me a guinea, but I gave two for you. Whatever reasons you have for frugality, it is not worth while tosave a guinea a year by withdrawing it from a public charity. " "Whilst I am writing, the post has brought me your kind letter. Donot think with dejection of your own condition: a little patiencewill probably give you health: it will certainly give you riches, andall the accommodations that riches can procure. " Up to this time she had put an almost killing restraint on herinclinations, and had acted according to Johnson's advice ineverything but the final abandonment of Piozzi; yet Boswell reportshim as saying, May 16th: "Sir, she has done everything wrong sinceThrale's bridle was off her neck. " The next extracts are from "Thraliana": "_Bath, Nov. 30th, 1783. _--Sophia will live and do well; I have savedmy daughter, perhaps obtained a friend. They are weary of seeing mesuffer so, and the eldest beg'd me yesterday not to sacrifice my lifeto her convenience. She now saw my love of Piozzi was incurable, shesaid. Absence had no effect on it, and my health was going so fastshe found that I should soon be useless either to her or him. It wasthe hand of God and irresistible, she added, and begged me not toendure any longer such unnecessary misery. "So now we may be happy if we will, and now I trust _some_ [_(sic)query "no?_"] other cross accident will start up to torment us; Iwrote my lover word that he might come and fetch me, but the Alps arecovered with snow, and if his prudence is not greater than hisaffection--my life will yet be lost, for it depends on his safety. Should he come at my call, and meet with any misfortune on the road. .. Death, with accumulated agonies, would end me. May Heaven avertsuch insupportable distress!" "_Dec. _ 1783. --My dearest Piozzi's Miss Chanon is in distress. I willsend her 10_l_. Perhaps he loved her; perhaps she loved _him_;perhaps both; yet I have and will have confidence in his honour. Iwill not suffer love or jealousy to narrow a heart devoted to _him_. He would assist her if he were in England, and _she_ shall not sufferfor his absence, tho' I _do_. She and her father have reported manythings to my prejudice; she will be ashamed of herself when she seesme forgive and assist her. O Lord, give me grace so to return goodfor evil as to obtain thy gracious favour who died to procure thesalvation of thy professed enemies. 'Tis a good Xmas work!" "_Bath, Jan. 27th_, 1784. --On this day twelvemonths . .. Ohdreadfullest of all days to me I did I send for my Piozzi and tellhim we must part. The sight of my countenance terrified Dr. Pepys, towhom I went into the parlour for a moment, and the sight of theagonies I endured in the week following would have affected anythingbut interest, avarice, and pride personified, . .. With such, however, I had to deal, so my sorrows were unregarded. Seeing them continuefor a whole year, indeed, has mollified my strong-hearted companions, and they _now_ relent in earnest and wish me happy: I would nowtherefore be _loath to dye_, yet how shall I recruit my constitutionso as to live? The pardon certainly did arrive the very instant ofexecution--for I was ill beyond all power of description, when myeldest daughter, bursting into tears, bid me call home the man of myheart, and not expire by slow torture in the presence of my children, who had my life in their power. 'You are dying _now_, ' said she. 'Iknow it, ' replied I, 'and I should die in peace had I but seen him_once again_. ' 'Oh send for him, ' said she, 'send for him quickly!''He is at Milan, child, ' replied I, 'a thousand miles off!' 'Well, well, ' returns she, 'hurry him back, or I myself will send him anexpress. ' At these words I revived, and have been mending ever since. This was the first time that any of us had named the name of Piozzito each other since we had put our feet into the coach to come toBath. I had always thought it a point of civility and prudence neverto mention what could give nothing but offence, and cause nothing butdisgust, while they desired nothing less than a revival of olduneasiness; so we were all silent on the subject, and Miss Thralethought him dead. " According to the Autobiography, the daughters did not conclusivelyrelent till the end of April or the beginning of May, when a missivewas dispatched for Piozzi, and Mrs. Thrale went to London to make therequisite preparations. _Mrs. Thrale to Miss F. Burney_. "Mortimer Street, Cavendish Square, "Tuesday Night, May, 1784. "I am come, dearest Burney. It is neither dream nor fiction; though Ilove you dearly, or I would not have come. Absence and distance donothing towards wearing out real affection; so you shall always findit in your true and tender H. L. T. "I am somewhat shaken bodily, but 'tis the mental shocks that havemade me unable to bear the corporeal ones. 'Tis past ten o'clock, however, and I must lay myself down with the sweet expectation ofseeing my charming friend in the morning to breakfast. I love Dr. Burney too well to fear him, and he loves me too well to say a wordwhich should make me love him less. " _Journal (Madame D'Arblay's) Resumed_. "May 17. --Let me now, my Susy, acquaint you a little more connectedlythan I have done of late how I have gone on. The rest of that week Idevoted almost wholly to sweet Mrs. Thrale, whose society was trulythe most delightful of cordials to me, however, at times mixed withbitters the least palatable. "One day I dined with Mrs. Grarrick to meet Dr. Johnson, Mrs. Carter, Miss Hamilton, and Dr. And Miss Cadogan; and one evening I went toMrs. Vesey, to meet almost everybody, --the Bishop of St. Asaph, andall the Shipleys, Bishop Chester and Mrs. Porteous, Mrs. And MissOrd, Sir Joshua Reynolds and Miss Palmer, Mrs. Buller, all theBurrows, Mr. Walpole, Mrs. Boscawen, Mrs. Grarrick, and Miss More, and some others. But all the rest of my time I gave wholly to dearMrs. Thrale, who lodged in Mortimer Street, and who saw nobody else. Were I not sensible of her goodness, and full of incurable affectionfor her, should I not be a monster? * * * * * "I parted most reluctantly with my dear Mrs. Thrale, whom, when orhow, I shall see again, Heaven only knows! but in sorrow weparted--on _my_ side in real affliction. " The excursion is thus mentioned in "Thraliana": "_28th May_, 1784. --Here is the most sudden and beautiful spring ever seen after adismal winter: so may God grant me a renovation of comfort after mymany and sharp afflictions. I have been to London for a week to visitFanny Burney, and to talk over my intended (and I hope approaching)nuptials, with Mr. Borghi: a man, as far as I can judge in so shortan acquaintance with him, of good sense and real honour:--who lovesmy Piozzi, _likes_ my conversation, and wishes to serve us sincerely. He has recommended Duane to take my power of attorney, and Cator'sloss will be the less felt. Duane's name is as high as the Monument, and his being known familiarly to Borghi will perhaps quicken hisattention to our concerns. "Dear Burney, who loves me _kindly_ but the world _reverentially_, was, I believe, equally pained as delighted with my visit: ashamed tobe seen in my company, much of her fondness for me must of course bediminished; yet she had not chatted freely so long with anybody butMrs. Philips, that my coming was a comfort to her. We have told allto her father, and he behaved with the utmost propriety. "Nobody likes my settling at Milan except myself and Piozzi; but Ithink 'tis nobody's affair but our own: it seems to me quiteirrational to expose ourselves to unnecessary insults, and by goingstraight to Italy all will be avoided. " The crisis is told in "Thraliana": "_10th June_, 1784. --I sent these lines to meet Piozzi on his return. They are better than those he liked so last year at Dover: "Over mountains, rivers, vallies, See my love returns to Calais, After all their taunts and malice, Ent'ring safe the gates of Calais, While delay'd by winds he dallies, Fretting to be kept at Calais, Muse, prepare some sprightly sallies To divert my dear at Calais, Say how every rogue who rallies Envies him who waits at Calais For her that would disdain a Palace Compar'd to Piozzi, Love, and Calais. " "_24th June_, 1784. --He is set out sure enough, here are letters fromTurin to say so. .. . Now the Misses _must_ move; they are very loathto stir: from affection perhaps, or perhaps from art--'tis difficultto know. --Oh 'tis, yes, it is from tenderness, they want me to gowith them to see Wilton, Stonehenge, &c. --I _will_ go with them to besure. " "_27th June, Sunday_. --We went to Wilton, and also to Fonthill; theymake an admirable and curious contrast between ancient magnificenceand modern glare: Gothic and Grecian again, however. A man of tastewould rather possess Lord Pembroke's seat, or indeed a single room init; but one feels one should live happier at Beckford's. --Mydaughters parted with me at last prettily enough _considering_ (asthe phrase is). We shall perhaps be still better friends apart thantogether. Promises of correspondence and kindness were very sweetlyreciprocated, and the eldest wished for Piozzi's safe return veryobligingly. "I fancy two days more will absolutely bring him to Bath. The presentmoments are critical and dreadful, and would shake stronger nervesthan mine! Oh Lord, strengthen me to do Thy will I pray. " "_28th June_. --I am not _yet sure of_ seeing him again--not _sure_ helives, not _sure_ he loves me _yet_. .. . Should anything happen now!!Oh, I will not trust myself with such a fancy: it will either kill meor drive me distracted. " "_Bath, 2nd July_, 1784. --The happiest day of my whole life, Ithink--Yes, quite the happiest: my Piozzi came home yesterday anddined with me; but my spirits were too much agitated, my heart wastoo much dilated. I was too _painfully_ happy _then_; my sensationsare more quiet to-day, and my felicity less tumultuous. " Written in the margin of the last entry--"We shall go to London aboutthe affairs, and there be married in the Romish Church. " "_25th July_, 1784. --I am returned from church the happy wife of mylovely faithful Piozzi . .. Subject of my prayers, object of mywishes, my sighs, my reverence, my esteem. --His nerves have beenhorribly shaken, yet he lives, he loves me, and will be mine forever. He has sworn, in the face of God and the whole ChristianChurch; Catholics, Protestants, all are witnesses. " In one of her memorandum books she has set down: "We were married according to the Romish Church in one of ourexcursions to London, by Mr. Smith, Padre Smit as they called him, chaplain to the Spanish Ambassador. .. . Mr. Morgan tacked us togetherat St. James's, Bath, 25th July, 1784, and on the first day I thinkof September, certainly the first week, we took leave of England. " When her first engagement with Piozzi became known, the newspaperstook up the subject, and rang the changes on the amorous dispositionof the widow, and the adroit cupidity of the fortune-hunter. On theannouncement of the marriage, they recommenced the attack, and peopleof our day can hardly form a notion of the storm of obloquy thatbroke upon her, except from its traces, which have never been erased. To this hour, we may see them in the confirmed prejudices of writerslike Mr. Croker and Lord Macaulay, who, agreeing in little else, agree in denouncing "this miserable _més_alliance" with one whofigures in their pages sometimes as a music-master, sometimes as afiddler, never by any accident in his real character of aprofessional singer and musician of established reputation, pleasingmanners, ample means, and unimpeachable integrity. The repugnance ofthe daughters to the match was reasonable and intelligible, but toappreciate the tone taken by her friends, we must bear in mind thesocial position of Italian singers and musical performers at theperiod. "Amusing vagabonds" are the epithets by which Lord Byrondesignates Catalani and Naldi, in 1809[1]; and such is the light inwhich they were undoubtedly regarded in 1784. Mario would have beentreated with the same indiscriminating illiberality as Piozzi. [Footnote 1: "Well may the nobles of our present race Watch each distortion of a Naldi's face; Well may they smile on Italy's buffoons, And worship Catalani's pantaloons. " "Naldi and Catalani require little notice; for the visage of the oneand the salary of the other will enable us long to recollect theseamusing vagabonds. "--_English Bards and Scotch Reviewers_. Artists ingeneral, and men of letters by profession, did not rank much higherin the fine world. (See Miss Berry's "England and France, " vol. Ii. P. 42. ) A German author, non-noble, had a _liaison_ with a Prussianwoman of rank. On her husband's death he proposed marriage, and wasindignantly refused. The lady was conscious of no degradation frombeing his mistress, but would have forfeited both caste andself-respect by becoming his wife. ] Did those who took the lead in censuring or repudiating Mrs. Piozzi, ever attempt to enter into her feelings, or weigh her conduct withreference to its tendency to promote her own happiness? Could theyhave done so, had they tried? Rarely can any one so identify himselfor herself with another as to be sure of the soundness of the counselor the justice of the reproof. She was neither impoverishing herchildren (who had all independent fortunes) nor abandoning them. Shewas setting public opinion at defiance, which is commonly a foolishthing to do; but what is public opinion to a woman whose heart isbreaking, and who finds, after a desperate effort, that she isunequal to the sacrifice demanded of her? She accepted Piozzideliberately, with full knowledge of his character; and she neverrepented of her choice. The Lady Cathcart, whose romantic story is mentioned in "CastleRackrent, " was wont to say:--"I have been married three times; thefirst for money, the second for rank, the third for love; and thethird was worst of all. " Mrs. Piozzi's experience would have led toan opposite conclusion. Her love match was a singularly happy one;and the consciousness that she had transgressed conventionalobservances or prejudices, not moral rules, enabled her to outliveand bear down calumny. [1] [Footnote 1: The _pros_ and _cons_ of the main question at issue arewell stated in _Corinne_: "Ah, pour heureux, ' interrompit le Comted'Erfeuil, 'je n'en crois rien: on n'est heureux que par ce qui estconvenable. La société a, quoi qu'on fasse, beaucoup d'empire sur lebonheur; et ce qu'elle n'approuve pas, il ne faut jamais le faire. ''On vivrait done toujours pour ce que la société dira de nous, 'reprit Oswald; 'et ce qu'on pense et, ce qu'on sent ne serviraitjamais de guide. ' 'C'est très bien dit, ' reprit le comte, 'très-philosophiquement pensé; mais avec ces maximes là, l'on seperd; et quand l'amour est passé, le blâme de l'opinion reste. Moiqui vous paraîs léger, je ne ferai jamais rien qui puisse m'attirerla désapprobation du monde. On peut se permettre de petites libertés, d'aimables plaisanteries, qui annoncent de l'indépendance dans lamanière d'agir; car, quand cela touche au sérieux. '--'Mais lesérieux, repondit Lord Nelvil, 'c'est l'amour et lebonheur. '"--_Corinne_, liv. Ix. Ch. 1. ] In reference to these passages, the Edinburgh reviewer remarks: "Nothing can be more reasonable; and we should certainly live in amore peaceful (if not more entertaining) world, if nobody in itreproved another until he had so far identified himself with theculprit as to be sure of the justice of the reproof; perhaps, also, if a fiddler were rated higher in society than a duke withoutaccomplishments, and a carpenter far higher than either. But neitherreasoning nor gallantry will alter the case, nor prevail over theworld's prejudice against unequal marriages, any more than itsprejudices in favour of birth and fashion. It has never been quiteestablished to the satisfaction of the philosophic mind, why the ruleof society should be that 'as the husband, so the wife is, ' and why alady who contracts a marriage below her station is looked on with farseverer eyes than a gentleman _qui s'encanaille_ to the same degree. But these things are so, --as the next dame of rank and fortune, andwidow of an M. P. , who, rashly relying on Mr. Hayward's assertion thatthe world has grown wiser, espouses a foreign 'professional, ' willassuredly find to her cost, although she may escape the ungenerouspublic attacks which poor Mrs. Piozzi earned by her connexion withliterary men. " In 1784 they hanged for crimes which we should think adequatelypunished by a short imprisonment; as they hooted and libelled fortransgressions or errors which, whatever their treatment by a portionof our society, would certainly not provoke the thunders of ourpress. I think (though I made no assertion of the kind) that theworld has grown wiser; and the reviewer admits as much when he saysthat his supposititious widow "may escape the ungenerous publicattacks which poor Mrs. Piozzi earned by her connexion with literarymen. " But where do I recommend unequal marriages, or dispute theclaims of birth and fashion, or maintain that a fiddler should berated higher than a duke without accomplishments, and a carpenter_far_ higher than either? All this is utterly beside the purpose; andsurely there is nothing reprehensible in the suggestion that, beforeharshly reproving another, we should do our best to test the justiceof the reproof by trying to make the case our own. Goethe proposed toextend the self-same rule to criticism. One of his favourite canonswas that a critic should always endeavour to place himselftemporarily in the author's point of view. If the reviewer had doneso, he might have avoided several material misapprehensions andmisstatements, which it is difficult to reconcile with the friendlytone of the article or the known ability of the writer. Envy at Piozzi's good fortune sharpened the animosity of assailantslike Baretti, and the loss of a pleasant house may have had a gooddeal to do with the sorrowing indignation of her set. Her meditatedsocial extinction amongst them might have been commemorated in thewords of the French epitaph: "Ci git une de qui la vertu Etait moins que la table encensée; On ne plaint point la femme abattue, Mais bien la table renversée. " Which may be freely rendered: "Here lies one who adulation By dinners more than virtues earn'd; Whose friends mourned not her reputation-- But her table--overturned. " Madame D'Arblay has recorded what took place between Mrs. Piozzi andherself on the occasion: _Miss F. Burney to Mrs. Piozzi_. "Norbury Park, Aug. 10, 1784. "When my wondering eyes first looked over the letter I received lastnight, my mind instantly dictated a high-spirited vindication of theconsistency, integrity, and faithfulness of the friendship thusabruptly reproached and cast away. But a sleepless night gave meleisure to recollect that you were ever as generous as precipitate, and that your own heart would do justice to mine, in the coolerjudgment of future reflection. Committing myself, therefore, to thatperiod, I determined simply to assure you, that if my last letterhurt either you or Mr. Piozzi, I am no less sorry than surprised; andthat if it offended you, I sincerely beg your pardon. "Not to that time, however, can I wait to acknowledge the pain anaccusation so unexpected has caused me, nor the heartfeltsatisfaction with which I shall receive, when you are able to writeit, a softer renewal of regard. "May Heaven direct and bless you! "F. B. "N. B. This is the sketch of the answer which F. B. Most painfullywrote to the unmerited reproach of not sending _cordialcongratulations_ upon a marriage which she had uniformly, openly, andwith deep and avowed affliction, thought wrong. " _Mrs. Piozzi to Miss Burney_. "'Wellbeck Street, No. 33, Cavendish Square. "'Friday, Aug. 13, 1784. "'Give yourself no serious concern, sweetest Burney, All is well, andI am too happy myself to make a friend otherwise; quiet your kindheart immediately, and love my husband if you love his and your "'H. L. PIOZZI. ' "N. B. To this kind note, F. B. Wrote the warmest and most affectionateand heartfelt reply; but never received another word! And here andthus stopped a correspondence of six years of almost unequalledpartiality, and fondness on her side; and affection, gratitude, admiration, and sincerity on that of F. B. , who could only conjecturethe cessation to be caused by the resentment of Piozzi, when informedof her constant opposition to the union. " If F. B. Thought it wrong, she knew it to be inevitable, and in theconviction that it was so, she and her father had connived at thesecret preparations for it in the preceding May. A very distinguished friend, whose masterly works are the result of aconsummate study of the passions, after dwelling on the"impertinence" of the hostility her marriage provoked, writes: "Shewas evidently a very vain woman, but her vanity was sensitive, andvery much allied to that exactingness of heart which gives charm andcharacter to woman. I suspect it was this sensitiveness which madeher misunderstood by her children. " The justness of this theory ofher conduct is demonstrated by the self-communings in "Thraliana;"and she misunderstood them as much as they misunderstood her. By herown showing she had little reason to complain of what they _did_ inthe matter of the marriage; it was what they said, or rather did notsay, that irritated her. She yearned for sympathy, which was sternly, chillingly, almost insultingly withheld. In 1800, she wrote thus to Dr. Gray: "What a good example have youset them (his children)! going to visit dear mama at Twickenham--longmay they keep their parents, pretty creatures! and long may they havesense to know and feel that no love is like parental affection, --theonly good perhaps which cannot be flung away. "[1] [Footnote 1: "We may have many friends in life, but we can only haveone mother: a discovery, says Gray, which I never made till it wastoo late. "--ROGERS. ] Madame D'Arblay states that her father was not disinclined to admitMrs. Piozzi's right to consult her own notions of happiness in thechoice of a second husband, had not the paramount duty of watchingover her unmarried daughters interfered. But they might haveaccompanied her to Italy as was once contemplated; and had they doneso, they would have seen everything and everybody in it under themost favourable auspices. The course chosen for them by the eldestwas the most perilous of the two submitted for their choice. Thelady, Miss Nicholson, whom their mother had so carefully selected astheir companion, soon left them; or according to another version wassummarily dismissed by Miss Thrale (afterwards Viscountess Keith), who fortunately was endowed with high principle, firmness, andenergy. She could not take up her abode with either of her guardians, one a bachelor under forty, the other the prototype of Briggs, theold miser in "Cæcilia. " She could not accept Johnson's hospitality inBolt Court, still tenanted by the survivors of his menagerie; where, a few months later, she sate by his death-bed and received hisblessing. She therefore called to her aid an old nurse-maid, namedTib, who had been much trusted by her father, and with this homelybut respectable duenna, she shut herself up in the house at Brighton, limited her expenses to her allowance of 200_l. _ a-year, andresolutely set about the course of study which seemed best adapted toabsorb attention and prevent her thoughts from wandering. Hebrew, Mathematics, Fortification, and Perspective have been named to me byone of trusted friends as specimens of her acquirements and herpursuits. "There's a Divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we may. " In that solitary abode at Brighton, and in the companionship of Tib, may have been laid the foundation of a character than which few, through the changeful scenes of a long and prosperous life, haveexercised more beneficial influence or inspired more genuine esteem. On coming of age, and being put into possession of her fortune, shehired a house in London, and took her two eldest sisters to live withher. They had been at school whilst she was living at Brighton. Thefourth and youngest, afterwards Mrs. Mostyn, had accompanied themother. On the return of Mr. And Mrs. Piozzi, Miss Thrale made apoint of paying them every becoming attention, and Piozzi wasfrequently dining with her. Latterly, she used to speak of him as avery worthy sort of man, who was not to blame for marrying a rich anddistinguished woman who took a fancy to him. The other sisters seemto have adopted the same tone; and so far as I can learn, no one ofthem is open to the imputation of filial unkindness, or has sufferedfrom maternal neglect in a manner to bear out Dr. Burney'sforebodings by the result. Occasional expressions of querulousnessare matters of course in family differences, and are seldom totallysuppressed by the utmost exertion of good feeling and good sense. Johnson's idolised wife was, at the lowest estimate, twenty-one yearsolder than himself when he married her; and her sons were sodisgusted by the connection, that they dropped the acquaintance. Yetit never crossed his mind that "Hetty" had as much right to pleaseherself as "Tetty. " Of the six letters that passed between him andMrs. Piozzi on the subject of the marriage, only two (Nos. 1 and 5)have hitherto been made public; and the incompleteness of thecorrespondence has caused the most embarrassing confusion in theminds of biographers and editors, too prone to act on the maxim that, wherever female reputation is concerned, we should hope for the bestand believe the worst. Hawkins, apparently ignorant that she hadwritten to Johnson, to announce her intention, says, "He was madeuneasy by a report" which induced him to write a strong letter ofremonstrance, of which what he calls an _adumbration_ was publishedin the "Gentleman's Magazine" for December 1784. Mr. Croker, avoidinga similar error, says:--"In the lady's own (part) publication of thecorrespondence, this letter (No. 1) is given as from Mrs. Piozzi, andis signed with the initial of her name: Dr. Johnson's answer is alsoaddressed to Mrs. Piozzi, and both the letters allude to the matteras _done_; yet it appears by the periodical publications of the day, that the marriage did not take place until the 25th July. The editorknew not how to account for this but by supposing that Mrs. Piozzi, to avoid Johnson's importunity, had stated that as done which wasonly _settled to be done_. " The matter of fact is made plain by the circular (No. 2) which statesthat "Piozzi is coming back from Italy. " He arrived on July 1st, after a fourteen months' absence, which proved both his loyalty andthe sincerity of the struggle in her own heart and mind. Her letter(No. 1) as printed, is not signed with the initial of her name; andboth Dr. Johnson's autograph letters are addressed to _Mrs. Thrale_. But she has occasioned the mistake into which so many have fallen, byher mode of heading these when she printed the two-volume edition of"Letters" in 1788. By the kindness of Mr. Salusbury I am now enabledto print the whole correspondence, with the exception of her lastletter, which she describes. No. 1. _Mrs. Piozzi to Dr. Johnson_. "Bath, June 30. "My Dear Sir, --The enclosed is a circular letter which I have sent toall the guardians, but our friendship demands somewhat more; itrequires that I should beg your pardon for concealing from you aconnexion which you must have heard of by many, but I suppose neverbelieved. Indeed, my dear Sir, it was concealed only to save us bothneedless pain; I could not have borne to reject that counsel it wouldhave killed me to take, and I only tell it you now because all isirrevocably settled and out of your power to prevent. I will say, however, that the dread of your disapprobation has given me someanxious moments, and though perhaps I am become by many privationsthe most independent woman in the world, I feel as if acting withouta parent's consent till you write kindly to "Your faithful servant. " No. 2. _Circular_. "Sir, --As one of the executors of Mr. Thrale's will and guardian tohis daughters, I think it my duty to acquaint you that the threeeldest left Bath last Friday (25th) for their own house atBrighthelmstone in company with an amiable friend, Miss Nicholson, who has sometimes resided with us here, and in whose society theymay, I think, find some advantages and certainly no disgrace. Iwaited on them to Salisbury, Wilton, &c. , and offered to attend themto the seaside myself, but they preferred this lady's company tomine, having heard that Mr. Piozzi is coming back from Italy, andjudging perhaps by our past friendship and continued correspondencethat his return would be succeeded by our marriage. "I have the honour to be, Sir, your obedient servant. "Bath, June 30, 1784. " No. 3. [1] [Footnote 1: What Johnson termed an "adumbration" of this letterappeared in the "Gentleman's Magazine" for Dec. 1784: "MADAM, --If you are already ignominiously married, you are lostbeyond all redemption;--if you are not, permit me one hour'sconversation, to convince you that such a marriage must not takeplace. If, after a whole hour's reasoning, you should not beconvinced, you will still be at liberty to act as you think proper. Ihave been extremely ill, and am still ill; but if you grant me theaudience I ask, I will instantly take a post-chaise and attend you atBath. Pray do not refuse this favour to a man who hath so many yearsloved and honoured you. "] "MADAM, --If I interpret your letter right, you are ignominiouslymarried: if it is yet undone, let us _once_ more _talk_ together. Ifyou have abandoned your children and your religion, God forgive yourwickedness; if you have forfeited your fame and your country, mayyour folly do no further mischief. If the last act is yet to do, Iwho have loved you, esteemed you, reverenced you, and _servedyou_[1], I who long thought you the first of womankind, entreat that, before your fate is irrevocable, I may once more see you. I was, Ionce was, Madam, most truly yours, "SAM. JOHNSON. "July 2, 1784. "I will come down, if you permit it. " [Footnote 1: The four words which I have printed in italics areindistinctly written, and cannot be satisfactorily made out. ] No. 4. "July 4, 1784. "SIR, --I have this morning received from you so rough a letter inreply to one which was both tenderly and respectfully written, that Iam forced to desire the conclusion of a correspondence which I canbear to continue no longer. The birth of my second husband is notmeaner than that of my first; his sentiments are not meaner; hisprofession is not meaner, and his superiority in what he professesacknowledged by all mankind. It is want of fortune, then, that isignominious; the character of the man I have chosen has no otherclaim to such an epithet. The religion to which he has been always azealous adherent will, I hope, teach him to forgive insults he hasnot deserved; mine will, I hope, enable me to bear them at once withdignity and patience. To hear that I have forfeited my fame is indeedthe greatest insult I ever yet received. My fame is as unsullied assnow, or I should think it unworthy of him who must henceforthprotect it. "I write by the coach the more speedily and effectually to preventyour coming hither. Perhaps by my fame (and I hope it is so) you meanonly that celebrity which is a consideration of a much lower kind. Icare for that only as it may give pleasure to my husband and hisfriends. "Farewell, dear Sir, and accept my best wishes. You have alwayscommanded my esteem, and long enjoyed the fruits of a friendship_never infringed by one harsh expression on my part during twentyyears of familiar talk. Never did I oppose your will, or control yourwish; nor can your unmerited severity itself lessen my regard_; buttill you have changed your opinion of Mr. Piozzi, let us converse nomore. God bless you. " No. 5. _To Mrs. Piozzi_. "London, July 8, 1784. "DEAR MADAM, --What you have done, however I may lament it, I have nopretence to resent, as it has not been injurious to me: I thereforebreathe out one sigh more of tenderness, perhaps useless, but atleast sincere. "I wish that God may grant you every blessing, that you may be happyin this world for its short continuance, and eternally happy in abetter state; and whatever I can contribute to your happiness I amvery ready to repay, for that kindness which soothed twenty years ofa life radically wretched. "Do not think slightly of the advice which I now presume to offer. Prevail upon Mr. Piozzi to settle in England: you may live here withmore dignity than in Italy, and with more security; your rank will behigher, and your fortune more under your own eye. I desire not todetail all my reasons, but every argument of prudence and interest isfor England, and only some phantoms of imagination seduce you toItaly. "I am afraid, however, that my counsel is vain, yet I have eased myheart by giving it. "When Queen Mary took the resolution of sheltering herself inEngland, the Archbishop of St. Andrew's, attempting to dissuade her, attended on her journey; and when they came to the irremeablestream[1] that separated the two kingdoms, walked by her side intothe water, in the middle of which he seized her bridle, and withearnestness proportioned to her danger and his own affection pressedher to return. The Queen went forward. --If the parallel reaches thusfar, may it go no farther. --The tears stand in my eyes. "I am going into Derbyshire, and hope to be followed by your goodwishes, for I am, with great affection, "Your, &c. "Any letters that come for me hither will be sent me. " [Footnote 1: Queen Mary left the Scottish for the English coast, onthe Firth of Solway, in a fishing-boat. The incident to which Johnsonalludes is introduced in "The Abbot;" where the scene is laid on thesea-shore. The unusual though expressive term "irremeable, " isdefined in his dictionary, "admitting no return. " His authority isDryden's Virgil: "The keeper dream'd, the chief without delay Pass'd on, and took th' irremeable way. " The word is a Latin one anglicised: "Evaditque celer ripam irremeabilis undæ. "] In a memorandum on this letter, she says:--"I wrote him (No. 6) avery kind and affectionate farewell. " Before calling attention to the results of this correspondence, Imust notice a charge built upon it by the reviewer, with therespectable aid of the foul-mouthed and malignant Baretti: "This letter is now printed for the first time by Mr. Hayward. But hehas omitted to notice the light which is thrown on it by Baretti'saccount of the marriage. That account is given in the 'EuropeanMagazine' for 1788. It is very circumstantial, and too long totranscribe, but the upshot is this: He says that, in order to meether returning lover, she left Bath with her daughters as for ajourney to Brighton; quitted them on some pretence at Salisbury, andposted off to town, _deceiving Dr. Johnson, who continued to directto her at Bath as usual_. [1] 'In London she kept herself concealedfor some days in my parish, and not very far distant from my ownhabitation, . .. In Suffolk Street, Middlesex Hospital. ' 'In a _fewweeks_, ' he adds, 'she was in a condition personally to resort to Mr. Greenland (her lawyer) to settle preliminaries, then returned to Bathwith Piozzi, and there was married. ' Now Baretti was a libeller, _andnot to be believed except upon compulsion_; but if he does speak thetruth, then the date, 'Bath, June 30, ' of her circular letter, is amystification; so is the passage in her letter to Johnson of July_4_, about 'sending it by the coach to prevent his coming. ' Of courseshe was mortally afraid of the Doctor's coming, for if he had come hewould have found her flown. According to this supposition, she didnot return to Bath at all, but remained perdue in London, with herlover, during the whole 'Correspondence. ' Is it the true one? "We cannot but suspect that it is, and that the solution of the wholeof this little domestic mystery is to be found in a passage in the'Autobiographical Memoir, ' vol. I. P. 277. There were _two_marriages:-- "'Miss Nicholson went with us to Stonehenge, Wilton, &c. , _whence Ireturned to Bath_ to wait for Piozzi. He was here on the eleventh dayafter he got Dobson's letter. In twenty-six more we were married _inLondon_ by the Spanish ambassador's chaplain, and returned hither tobe married by Mr. Morgan, of Bath, at St. James's Church, July 25, 1784. ' "Now in order to make this account tally with Baretti's we must allowfor a slight exertion of that talent for 'white lies' on the lady'spart, of which her friends, Johnson included, used half playfully andhalf in earnest to accuse her. And we are afraid Baretti's story doesappear, on the face of it, the more probable of the two. It does seemmore likely, since they were to be married in London (of whichBaretti knew nothing), that she met Piozzi secretly in London on hisarrival, than that she performed the awkward evolutions of returningfrom Salisbury to Bath to wait for him there, then going to London incompany with him to be married, and then back to Bath to be marriedover again. But if this be so, then the London marriage most likelytook place almost immediately on the meeting of the enamoured couple, and while the 'Correspondence' was going on. In which case the wordsin the 'Memoir' 'in twenty-six days, ' &c. , were apparently intended, by a little bit of feminine adroitness, to appear to apply to thisfirst marriage, --of the suddenness of which she may have beenashamed, --while they really apply to the conclusion of the wholeaffair by the _second_. Will any one have the Croker-like curiosityto inquire whether any record remains of the dates of marriagescelebrated by the Spanish ambassador's chaplain?"[2] [Footnote 1: These words, italicised by the reviewer, contain thepith of the charge, which has no reference to her visit to London sixweeks before. ] [Footnote 2: Edinb. Review, No. 230, p. 522. ] Why Croker-like curiosity? Was there anything censurable in thecuriosity which led an editor to ascertain whether a novel like"Evelina" was written by a girl of eighteen or a woman of twenty-six?But Lord Macaulay sneered at the inquiry[1], and his worshippers mustgo on sneering like their model--_vitiis imitabile_. The certificateof the London marriage (now before me) shews that it was solemnisedon the 23rd July, by a clergyman named Richard Smith, in the presenceof three attesting witnesses. This, and the entries in "Thraliana, "prove Baretti's whole story to be false. "Now Baretti was a libeller, and not to be believed except upon compulsion;" meaning, I suppose, without confirmatory evidence strong enough to dispense with histestimony altogether. He was notorious for his _black_ lies. Yet heis believed eagerly, willingly, upon no compulsion, and without anyconfirmatory evidence at all. [Footnote 1: The following passage is reprinted in the correctededition of Lord Macaulay's Essays:--"There was no want of low mindsand bad hearts in the generation which witnessed her (Miss Burney's)first appearance. There was the envious Kenrick and the savageWolcot; the asp George Steevens and the polecat John Williams. It didnot, however, occur to them to search the parish register of Lynn, inorder that they might be able to twit a lady with having concealedher age. That truly chivalrous exploit was reserved for a bad writerof our own time, whose spite she had provoked by not furnishing himwith materials for a worthless edition of Boswell's Life of Johnson, some sheets of which our readers have doubtless seen round parcels ofbetter books. " There is reason to believe that the entry Mr. Crokercopied was that of the baptism of an elder sister of the same namewho died before the birth of the famous Fanny. ] The internal evidence of the improbability of the story hasdisappeared in the reviewer's paraphrase. Baretti says that atSalisbury "she suddenly declared that a letter she found of greatimportance demanded her immediate presence _in London_. .. . ButJohnson did not know the least tittle of this transaction, and hecontinued to direct his letters to Bath as usual, expressing, nodoubt, an immense wonder _at her pertinacious silence_. " So she toldher daughters that she was going to London, whilst she deceivedJohnson, who was sure to learn the truth from them; and he waswondering at her pertinacious silence at the very time when he wasreceiving letters from her, dated Bath! Why, having formallyannounced her determination to marry Piozzi, she should not give himthe meeting in London if she chose, fairly passes my comprehension. Whilst the reviewer thinks he is strengthening one point, he ispalpably weakening another. She would not have been "mortally afraidof the Doctor's coming, " if she had already thrown him off andfinally broken with him? That she was afraid, and had reason to beso, is quite consistent with my theory, quite inconsistent with LordMacaulay's and the critic's. Johnson's letter (No. 3) is that of acoarse man who had always been permitted to lecture and dictate withimpunity. Her letter (No. 4) is that of a sensitive woman, who, forthe first time, resents with firmness and retorts with dignity. Thesentences I have printed in italics speak volumes. "Never did Ioppose your will, or control your wish, nor can your unmitigatedseverity itself lessen my regard. " There is a shade of submissivenessin her reply, yet, on receiving it, he felt as a falcon might feel ifa partridge were to shew fight. Nothing short of habitual deferenceon her part, and unrepressed indulgence of temper on _his_, canaccount for or excuse his not writing before this unexpected check ashe wrote after it. If he had not been systematically humoured andflattered, he would have seen at a glance that he had "no pretence toresent, " and have been ready at once to make the best return in hispower for "that kindness which soothed twenty years of a liferadically wretched. " She wrote him a kind and affectionate farewell;and there (so far as we know) ended their correspondence. But in"Thraliana" she sets down: "_Milan, 27th Nov_. 1784. --I have got Dr. Johnson's picture here, andexpect Miss Thrale's with impatience. I do love them dearly, as illas they have used me, and always shall. Poor Johnson did not _mean_to use me ill. He only grew upon indulgence till patience couldendure no further. " In a letter to Mr. S. Lysons from Milan, dated December 7th, 1784, which proves that she was not frivolously employed, she says: "My next letter shall talk of the libraries and botanical gardens, and twenty other clever things here. I wish you a comfortableChristmas, and a happy beginning of the year 1785. Do not neglect Dr. Johnson: you will never see any other mortal so wise or so good. Ikeep his picture in my chamber, and his works on my chimney. " "Forgiveness to the injured doth belong, But they ne'er pardon who have done the wrong. " What he said of her can only be learned from her bitter enemies orhollow friends, who have preserved nothing kindly or creditable. Hawkins states that a letter from Johnson to himself contained thesewords:--"Poor Thrale! I thought that either her virtue or her vice(meaning her love of her children or her pride) would have saved herfrom such a marriage. She is now become a subject for her enemies toexult over, and for her friends, if she has any left, to forget orpity. " Madame D'Arblay gives two accounts of the last interview she ever hadwith Johnson, --on the 25th November, 1784. In the "Diary" she setsdown: "I had seen Miss T. The day before. " "'So, ' said he, 'did I. ' "I then said, 'Do you ever, Sir, hear, from her mother?' "'No, ' cried he, 'nor write to her. I drive her quite from my mind. If I meet with one of her letters, I burn it instantly. [1] I haveburnt all I can find. I never speak of her, and I desire never tohear of her name. I drive her, as I said, wholly from my mind. '" [Footnote 1: If this was true, it is strange that he did not destroythe letter (No. 4) which gave him so sudden and mortifying a check. Miss Hawkins says in her Memoirs: "It was I who discovered theletter. I carried it to my father; he enclosed and sent it to her, _there never having been any intercourse between them_. " Anythingfrom Hawkins about Streatham and its inmates must therefore have beeninvention or hearsay. ] In the "Memoirs, " describing the same interview, she says:--"Wetalked then of poor Mrs. Thrale, but only for a moment, for I saw himgreatly incensed, and with such severity of displeasure, that Ihastened to start another subject, and he solemnly enjoined me tomention that no more. " This was only eighteen days before he died, and he might be excusedfor being angry at the introduction of any agitating topic. It wouldstain his memory, not hers, to prove that, belying his recentprofessions of tenderness and gratitude, he directly or indirectlyencouraged her assailants. "I was tempted to observe, " says the author of "Piozziana, " "that Ithought, as I still do, that Johnson's anger on the event of hersecond marriage was excited by some feeling of disappointment; andthat I suspected he had formed some hope of attaching her to himself. It would be disingenuous on my part to attempt to repeat her answer. I forget it; but the impression on my mind is that she did notcontradict me. " Sir James Fellowes' marginal note on this passage is:"This was an absurd notion, and I can undertake to say it was thelast idea that ever entered her head; for when I once alluded to thesubject, she ridiculed the idea: she told me she always felt forJohnson the same respect and veneration as for a Pascal. "[1] [Footnote 1: When Sheridan was accused of making love to Mrs. Siddons, he said he should as soon think of making love to theArchbishop of Canterbury. ] On the margin of the passage in which Boswell says, "Johnson wishingto unite himself with this rich widow was much talked of, but Ibelieve without foundation, "--she has written, "I believe so too!!"The report sufficed to bring into play the light artillery of thewits, one of whose best hits was an "Ode to Mrs. Thrale, by SamuelJohnson, LL. D. , on their approaching Nuptials, " beginning: "If e'er my fingers touched the lyre, In satire fierce, in pleasure gay, Shall not my Thralia's smiles inspire, Shall Sam refuse the sportive lay? "My dearest lady, view your slave, Rehold him as your very _Scrub_: Ready to write as author grave, Or govern well the brewing tub. "To rich felicity thus raised, My bosom glows with amorous fire; Porter no longer shall be praised, 'Tis I Myself am _Thrale's Entire_. " She has written opposite these lines, "Whose fun was this? It isbetter than the other. " The other was: "Cervisial coctor's viduate dame, Opinst thou this gigantick frame, Procumbing at thy shrine, Shall catinated by thy charms, A captive in thy ambient arms Perennially be thine. " She writes opposite: "Whose silly fun was this? Soame Jenyn's?" The following paragraph is copied from the note-book of the late MissWilliams Wynn[1], who had recently been reading a large collection ofMrs. Piozzi's letters addressed to a Welsh neighbour: [Footnote 1: Daughter of Sir Watkyn Wynn (the fourth baronet) andgranddaughter of George Grenville, the Minister. She wasdistinguished by her literary taste and acquirements, as well ashighly esteemed for the uprightness of her character, the excellenceof her understanding, and the kindness of her heart. Her journals andnote-books, carefully kept during a long life passed in the bestsociety, are full of interesting anecdotes and curious extracts fromrare books and manuscripts. They are now in the possession of herniece, the Honourable Mrs. Rowley. ] "_London, March_, 1825. --I have had an opportunity of talking to oldSir William Pepys on the subject of his old friend, Mrs. Piozzi, andfrom his conversation am more than ever impressed with the idea thatshe was one of the most inconsistent characters that ever existed. Sir William says he never met with any human being who possessed thetalent of conversation in such a degree. I naturally felt anxious toknow whether Piozzi could in any degree add to this pleasure, andfound, as I expected, that he could not even understand her. "Her infatuation for him seems perfectly unaccountable. Johnson inhis rough (I may here call it brutal) manner said to her, 'Why Ma'am, he is not only a stupid, ugly dog, but he is an old dog too. ' SirWilliam says he really believes that she combated her inclination forhim as long as possible; so long, that her senses would have failedher if she had attempted to resist any longer. She was perfectlyaware of her degradation. One day, speaking to Sir William of somepersons whom he had been in the habit of meeting continually atStreatham during the lifetime of Mr. Thrale, she said, not one ofthem has taken the smallest notice of me ever since: they dropped mebefore I had done anything wrong. Piozzi was literally at her elbowwhen she said this. " The reviewer quotes the remark, "She was perfectly aware of herdegradation, " as resting on the personal responsibility of Miss Wynn, "who knew her in later life in Wales. " The context shews that MissWynn (who did not know her) was simply repeating the impressions ofSir William Pepys, one of the bitterest opponents of the marriage, towhom she certainly never said anything derogatory to her secondhusband. The uniform tenor of her letters and her conduct shew thatshe never regarded her second marriage as discreditable, and alwaystook a high and independent, instead of a subdued or deprecating, tone with her alienated friends. A bare statement of the treatmentshe received from them is surely no proof of conscious degradation. In a letter to a Welsh neighbour, near the end of her life, some timein 1818, she says: "Mrs. Mostyn (her youngest daughter) has written again on the roadback to Italy, where she likes the Piozzis above all people, shesays, _if they were not so proud of their family_. Would not thatmake one laugh two hours before one's own death? But I remember whenLady Egremont raised the whole nation's ill will here, while theSaxons were wondering how Count Bruhle could think of marrying a ladyborn Miss Carpenter. The Lombards doubted in the meantime of my beinga gentlewoman by birth, because my first husband was a brewer. Apretty world, is it not? A Ship of Fooles, according to the old poem;and they will upset the vessel by and by. " This is not the language of one who wished to apologise for amisalliance. As to Piozzi's assumed want of youth and good looks, Johnson'sknowledge of womankind, to say nothing of his self-love, should haveprevented him from urging this as an insuperable objection. He mighthave recollected the Roman matron in Juvenal, who considers the worldwell lost for an old and disfigured prize-fighter; or he might havequoted Spenser's description of one-- "Who rough and rude and filthy did appear, Unseemly man to please fair lady's eye, Yet he of ladies oft was loved dear, When fairer faces were bid standen by: Oh! who can tell the bent of woman's phantasy?" Madame Campan, speaking of Caroline of Naples, the sister of MarieAntoinette, says, she had great reason to complain of the insolenceof a Spaniard named Las Casas, whom the king, her father-in-law, hadsent to persuade her to remove M. Acton[1] from the conduct ofaffairs and from about her person. She had told him, to convince himof the nature of her sentiments, that she would have Acton paintedand sculptured by the most celebrated artists of Italy, and send hisbust and his portrait to the King of Spain, to prove to him that thedesire of fixing a man of superior capacity could alone have inducedher to confer the favour he enjoyed. Las Casas had dared to reply, that she would be taking useless trouble; that a man's ugliness didnot always prevent him from pleasing, and that the King of Spain hadtoo much experience to be ignorant that the caprices of a woman wereinexplicable. Johnson may surely be allowed credit for as muchknowledge of the sex as the King of Spain. [Footnote 1: M. Acton, as Madame Campan calls him, was a member ofthe ancient English family of that name. He succeeded to thebaronetcy in 1791, and was the grandfather of Sir John E. E. DalbergActon, Bart. , M. P. , &c. ] Others were simultaneously accusing her of marrying a young man toindulge a sensual inclination. The truth is, Piozzi was a few monthsolder than herself, and was neither ugly nor disagreeable. MadameD'Arblay has been already quoted as to his personal appearance, andMiss Seward (October, 1787) writes: "I am become acquainted with Mr. And Mrs. Piozzi. Her conversation isthat bright wine of the intellects which has no lees. Dr. Johnsontold me truth when he said she had more colloquial wit than most ofour literary women; it is indeed a fountain of perpetual flow. But hedid not tell me truth when he asserted that Piozzi was an ugly dog, without particular skill in his profession. Mr. Piozzi is a handsomeman, in middle life, with gentle, pleasing, unaffected manners, andwith very eminent skill in his profession. Though he has not apowerful or fine-toned voice, he sings with transcending grace andexpression. I am charmed with his perfect expression on hisinstrument. Surely the finest sensibilities must vibrate through hisframe, since they breathe so sweetly through his song. " The concluding sentence contains what Partridge would call a _nonsequitur_, for the finest musical sensibility may coexist with themost commonplace qualities. But the lady's evidence is clear on theessential point; and another passage from her letters may assist usin determining the precise nature of Johnson's feelings towards Mrs. Piozzi, and the extent to which his later language and conductregarding her were influenced by pique: "Love is the great softener of savage dispositions. Johnson hadalways a metaphysic passion for one princess or another: first, therustic Lucy Porter, before he married her nauseous mother; next thehandsome, but haughty, Molly Aston; next the sublimated, methodisticHill Boothby, who read her bible in Hebrew; and lastly, the morecharming Mrs. Thrale, with the beauty of the first, the learning ofthe second, and with more worth than a bushel of such sinners andsuch saints. It is ridiculously diverting to see the old elephantforsaking his nature before these princesses: "'To make them mirth, use all his might, and writhe, His mighty form disporting. ' "_This last and long-enduring passion for Mrs. Thrale was, however, composed perhaps of cupboard love, Platonic love, and vanity tickledand gratified, from morn to night, by incessant homage_. The twofirst ingredients are certainly oddly heterogeneous; but Johnson, inreligion and politics, in love and in hatred, was composed of suchopposite and contradictory materials, as never before met in thehuman mind. This is the reason why folk are never weary of talking, reading, and writing about a man-- "'So various that he seem'd to be, Not one, but all mankind's epitome. '" After quoting the sentence printed in italics, the reviewer says: "Onthis hint Mr. Hayward enlarges, nothing loth. " I quoted the entireletter without a word of comment, and what is given as my "enlarging"is an _olla podrida_ of sentences torn from the context in threedifferent and unconnected passages of this Introduction. The only oneof them which has any bearing on the point shews, though garbled, that, in attributing motives, I distinguished between Johnson and hisset. Having thus laid the ground for fixing on me opinions I had nowhereprofessed, the reviewer asks, "Had Mr. Hayward, when he passed suchslighting judgment on the motives of the venerable sage who awes usstill, no fear before his eyes of the anathema aimed by Carlyle atCroker for similar disparagement? 'As neediness, and greediness, andvain glory are the chief qualities of most men, so no man, not even aJohnson, acts, or can think of acting, on any other principle. Whatever, therefore, cannot be referred to the two former categories, Need and Greed, is without scruple ranged under the latter. '"[1] [Footnote 1: Edinb, Review, No. 230, p. 511. ] This style of criticism is as loose as it is unjust; for one mainingredient in Miss Seward's mixture is Platonic love, which cannot bereferred to either of the three categories. Her error lay in notadding a fourth ingredient, --the admiration which Johnson undoubtedlyfelt for the admitted good qualities of Mrs. Thrale. But the lady wasnearer the truth than the reviewer, when he proceeds in this strain: "We take an entirely different view at once of the character and thefeelings of Johnson. Rude, uncouth, arrogant as he was--spoilt as hewas, which is far worse, by flattery and toadying and the sillyhomage of inferior worshippers--selfish as he was in his eagernessfor small enjoyments and disregard of small attentions--that whichlay at the very bottom of his character, that which constitutes thegreat source of his power in life, and connects him after death withthe hearts of all of us, is his spirit of imaginative romance. He wasromantic in almost all things--in politics, in religion, in hismusings on the supernatural world, in friendship for men, and in lovefor women. " * * * * * "Such was his fancied 'padrona, ' his 'mistress, ' his 'Thraliadulcis, ' a compound of the bright lady of fashion and the idealUrania who rapt his soul into spheres of perfection. " Imaginative romance in politics, in religion, and in musings on thesupernatural world, is here only another term for prejudice, intolerance, bigotry, and credulity--for rabid Toryism, High Churchdoctrines verging on Romanism, and a confirmed belief in ghosts. Imaginative romance in love and friendship is an elevating, softening, and refining influence, which, especially when it formsthe basis of character, cannot co-exist with habitual rudeness, uncouthness, arrogance, love of toadying, selfishness, and disregardof what Johnson himself called the minor morals. Equallyheterogeneous is the "compound of the bright lady of fashion and theideal Urania. " A goddess in crinoline would be a semi-mundanecreature at best; and the image unluckily suggests that Johnson wasunphilosophically, not to say vulgarly, fond of rank, fashion, andtheir appendages. His imagination, far from being of the richest or highest kind, wasinsufficient for the attainment of dramatic excellence, wasinsufficient even for the nobler parts of criticism. Nor had he muchto boast of in the way of delicacy of perception or sensibility. Hisstrength lay in his understanding; his most powerful weapon wasargument: his grandest quality was his good sense. Thurlow, speaking of the choice of a successor to Lord Mansfield, said, "I hesitated long between the intemperance of Kenyon, and thecorruption of Buller; not but what there was a d----d deal ofcorruption in Kenyon's intemperance, and a d----d deal ofintemperance in Buller's corruption. " Just so, we may hesitate longbetween the romance and the worldliness of Johnson, not but whatthere was a d----d deal of romance in his worldliness, and a d----ddeal of worldliness in his romance. The late Lord Alvanley, whose heart was as inflammable as his wit wasbright, used to tell how a successful rival in the favour of amarried dame offered to retire from the field for _5001_. , saying, "Iam a younger son: her husband does not give dinners, and they have nocountry house: no _liaison_ suits me that does not comprise both. " Atthe risk of provoking Mr. Carlyle's anathema, I now avow my beliefthat Johnson was, nay, boasted of being, open to similar influences;and as for his "ideal Uranias, " no man past seventy idealises womenwith whom he has been corresponding for years about his or their"natural history, " to whom he sends recipes for "lubricity of thebowels, " with an assurance that it has had the best effect upon hisown. [1] [Footnote 1: Letters, vol. Ii. P. 397. The letter containing therecipe actually begins "My dear Angel. " Had Johnson forgotten Swift'slines on Celia? or the repudiation of the divine nature by Ermodotus, which occurs twice in Plutarch? The late Lord Melbourne complainedthat two ladies of quality, sisters, told him too much of their"natural history. "] Rough language, too, although not incompatible with affectionateesteem, can hardly be reconciled with imaginative romance-- "Perhaps it was right to dissemble your love, But why did you kick me down stairs?" "His ugly old wife, " says the reviewer, "was an angel. " Yes, an angelso far as exalted language could make her one; and he had alwayshalf-a-dozen angels or goddesses on his list. "_Je change d'objet, mais la passion reste_. " For this very reason, I repeat, hisaffection for Mrs. Piozzi was not a deep, devoted, or absorbingfeeling at any time; and the gloom which settled upon the evening ofhis days was owing to his infirmities and his dread of death, not tothe loosening of cherished ties, nor to the compelled solitude of aconfined dwelling in Bolt Court. The plain matter of fact is that, during the last two years of his life, he was seldom a month togetherat his own house, unless when the state of his health prevented himfrom enjoying the hospitality of his friends. When the fatal marriagewas announced, he was planning what Boswell calls a jaunt into thecountry; and in a letter dated Lichfield, Oct. 4, 1784, he says: "Ipassed the first part of the summer at Oxford (with Dr. Adams);afterwards I went to Lichfield, then to Ashbourne (Dr. Taylor's), anda week ago I returned to Lichfield. " In the journal which he kept for Dr. Brocklesby, he writes, Oct. 20:"The town is my element; there are my friends, there are my books towhich I have not yet bid farewell, and there are my amusements. SirJoshua told me long ago that my vocation was to public life; and Ihope still to keep my station, till God shall bid me _Go in peace_. "Boswell reports him saying about this time, "Sir, I look upon everyday to be lost when I do not make a new acquaintance. " After another visit to Dr. Adams, at Pembroke College, he returned onthe 16th Nov. To London, where he died on the 13th Dec. 1784. Theproximate cause of his death was dropsy; and there is not thesmallest sign of its having been accelerated or embittered byunkindness or neglect. Whoever has accompanied me thus far will be fully qualified to forman independent opinion of Lord Macaulay's dashing summary of Mrs. Piozzi's imputed ill-treatment of Johnson: "Johnson was now in his seventy-second year. The infirmities of agewere coming fast upon him. That inevitable event of which he neverthought without horror was brought near to him; and his whole lifewas darkened by the shadow of death. He had often to pay the cruelprice of longevity. Every year he lost what could never be replaced. The strange dependants to whom he had given shelter, and to whom, inspite of their faults, he was strongly attached by habit, dropped offone by one; and, in the silence of his home, he regretted even thenoise of their scolding matches. The kind and generous Thrale was nomore; and it would have been well if his wife had been laid besidehim. But she survived to be the laughing-stock of those who hadenvied her, and to draw from the eyes of the old man who had lovedher beyond any thing in the world, tears far more bitter than hewould have shed over her grave. "With some estimable, and many agreeable qualities, she was not madeto be independent. The control of a mind more steadfast than her ownwas necessary to her respectability. While she was restrained by herhusband, a man of sense and firmness, indulgent to her taste intrifles, but always the undisputed master of his house, her worstoffences had been impertinent jokes, white lies, and short fits ofpettishness ending in sunny good humour. But he was gone; and she wasleft an opulent widow of forty, with strong sensibility, volatilefancy, and slender judgment. She soon fell in love with amusic-master from Brescia, in whom nobody but herself could discoveranything to admire. Her pride, and perhaps some better feelings, struggled hard against this degrading passion. But the struggleirritated her nerves, soured her temper, and at length endangered herhealth. Conscious that her choice was one which Johnson could notapprove, she became desirous to escape from his inspection. Hermanner towards him changed. She was sometimes cold and sometimespetulant. She did not conceal her joy when he left Streatham: shenever pressed him to return; and, if he came unbidden, she receivedhim in a manner which convinced him that he was no longer a welcomeguest. He took the very intelligible hints which she gave. He read, for the last time, a chapter of the Greek Testament in the librarywhich had been formed by himself. In a solemn and tender prayer hecommended the house and its inmates to the Divine protection, and, with emotions which choked his voice and convulsed his powerfulframe, left for ever that beloved home for the gloomy and desolatehouse behind Fleet Street, where the few and evil days which stillremained to him were to run out. "Here, in June 1783, he had a paralytic stroke, from which, however, he recovered, and which does not appear to have at all impaired hisintellectual faculties. But other maladies came thick upon him. Hisasthma tormented him day and night. Dropsical symptoms made theirappearance. While sinking under a complication of diseases, he heardthat the woman whose friendship had been the chief happiness ofsixteen years of his life, had married an Italian fiddler; that allLondon was crying shame upon her; and that the newspapers andmagazines were filled with allusions to the Ephesian matron and thetwo pictures in Hamlet. He vehemently said that he would try toforget her existence. He never uttered her name. Every memorial ofher which met his eye he flung into the fire. She meanwhile fled fromthe laughter and hisses of her countrymen and countrywomen to a landwhere she was unknown, hastened across Mount Cenis, and learned, while passing a merry Christmas of concerts and lemonade-parties atMilan, that the great man with whose name hers is inseparablyassociated, had ceased to exist. "[1] [Footnote 1: "Encyclopædia Britannica, " last edition. The Essay onJohnson is reprinted in the first volume of Lord Macaulay's"Miscellaneous Writings. "] "Splendid recklessness, " is the happy expression used by the"Saturday Review" in characterising this account of the allegedrupture with its consequences; and no reader will fail to admire therhetorical skill with which the expulsion from Streatham with itslibrary formed by himself, the chapter in the Greek testament, thegloomy and desolate home, the music-master in whom nobody but herselfcould see anything to admire, the few and evil days, the emotionsthat convulsed the frame, the painful and melancholy death, and themerry Christmas of concerts and lemonade parties, have been groupedtogether with the view of giving picturesqueness, impressive unity, and damnatory vigour to the sketch. "Action, action, action, " saysthe orator; "effect, effect, effect, " says the historian. GiveArchimedes a place to stand on, and he would move the world. GiveFouché a line of a man's handwriting, and he would engage to ruinhim. Give Lord Macaulay the semblance of an authority, an insulatedfact or phrase, a scrap of a journal, or the tag end of a song, andon it, by the abused prerogative of genius, he would construct atheory of national or personal character, which should confer undyingglory or inflict indelible disgrace. Johnson was never driven or expelled from Mrs. Piozzi's house orfamily: if very intelligible hints were given, they certainly werenot taken; the library was not formed by him; the Testament may ormay not have been Greek; his powerful frame shook with no convulsionsbut what may have been occasioned by the unripe grapes and hardpeaches; he did not leave Streatham for his gloomy and desolate housebehind Fleet Street; the few and evil days (two years, nine weeks)did not run out in that house; the music-master was generally admiredand esteemed; and the merry Christmas of concerts andlemonade-parties is simply another sample of the brillianthistorian's mode of turning the abstract into the concrete in such amanner as to degrade or elevate at will. An Italian concert is not amerry meeting; and a lemonade-party, I presume, is a party where(instead of _eau-sucrée_ as at Paris) the refreshment handed about islemonade: not an enlivening drink at Christmas. In a word, all thesegraphic details are mere creations of the brain, and the generalimpression intended to be conveyed by them is false, substantiallyfalse; for Mrs. Piozzi never behaved otherwise than kindly andconsiderately to Johnson at any time. Her life in Italy has been sketched in her best manner by her ownlively pen in the "Autobiography" and what she calls the "TravelBook, " to be presently mentioned. Scattered notices of herproceedings occur in her letters to Mr. Lysons, and in the printedcorrespondence of her cotemporaries. On the 19th October, 1784, she writes to Mr. Lysons from Turin: "We are going to Alexandria, Genoa, and Pavia, and then to Milan forthe winter, as Mr. Piozzi finds friends everywhere to delay us, and Ihate hurry and fatigue; it takes away all one's attention. Lyons wasa delightful place to me, and we were so feasted there by myhusband's old acquaintances. The Duke and Duchess of Cumberland toopaid us a thousand caressing civilities where we met with them, andwe had no means of musical parties neither. The Prince of Sisternacame yesterday to visit Mr. Piozzi, and present me with the key ofhis box at the opera for the time we stay at Turin. Here's honour andglory for you! When Miss Thrale hears of it, she will write perhaps;the other two are very kind and affectionate. " In "Thraliana": "_3rd November_, 1784. --Yesterday I received a letter from Mr. Baretti, full of the most flagrant and bitter insults concerning mylate marriage with Mr. Piozzi, against whom, however, he can bring noheavier charge than that he disputed on the road with an innkeeperconcerning the bill in his last journey to Italy; while he accuses meof murder and fornication in the grossest terms, such as I believehave scarcely ever been used even to his old companions in Newgate, whence he was released to scourge the families which cherished, andbite the hands that have since relieved him. Could I recollect anyprovocation I ever gave the man, I should be less amazed, but heheard, perhaps, that Johnson had written me a rough letter, andthought he would write me a brutal one: like the Jewish king, who, trying to imitate Solomon without his understanding, said, 'My fatherwhipped you with whips, but I will whip you with scorpions. '" "Milan, Dec. 7. "I correspond constantly and copiously with such of my daughters asare willing to answer my letters, and I have at last received onecold scrap from the eldest, which I instantly and tenderly repliedto. Mrs. Lewis too, and Miss Nicholson, have had accounts of myhealth, for I found _them_ disinterested and attached to me: thosewho led the stream, or watched which way it ran, that they mightfollow it, were not, I suppose, desirous of my correspondence, andtill they are so, shall not be troubled with it. " Miss Nicholson was the lady left with the daughters, and Mrs. Piozzicould have heard no harm of her from them or others when she wrotethus. The same inference must be drawn from the allusions to thislady at subsequent periods. After stating that she "dined at theminister's o' Tuesday, and he called all the wise men about me withgreat politeness indeed"--"Once more, " she continues, "keep me out ofthe newspapers if you possibly can: they have given me many amiserable hour, and my enemies many a merry one: but I have notdeserved public persecution, and am very happy to live in a placewhere one is free from unmerited insolence, such as London aboundswith. "'Illic credulitas, illic temerarius error. ' God bless you, and may you conquer the many-headed monster which Icould never charm to silence. " In "Thraliana, " she says: "_January_, 1785. --I see the English newspapers are full of grossinsolence to me: all burst out, as I guessed it would, upon the deathof Dr. Johnson. But Mr. Boswell (who I plainly see is the author)should let the _dead_ escape from his malice at least. I feel moreshocked at the insults offered to Mr. Thrale's memory than at thosecast on Mr. Piozzi's person. My present husband, thank God! is welland happy, and able to defend himself: but dear Mr. Thrale, that hadfostered these cursed wits so long! to be stung by their malice evenin the grave, is too cruel:-- "'Nor church, nor churchyards, from such fops are free. '"[1]--POPE. [Footnote 1: Probably misquoted for-- "No place is sacred, not the church is free. " _Prologue to the Satires_. ] The license of our press is a frequent topic of complaint. But hereis a woman who had never placed herself before the public in any wayso as to give them a right to discuss her conduct or affairs, noteven as an author, made the butt of every description of offensivepersonality for months, with the tacit encouragement of the firstmoralist of the age. January 20th, 1785, she writes from Milan:--"The Minister, CountWilsick, has shown us many distinctions, and we are visited by thefirst families in Milan. The Venetian Resident will, however, be soonsent to the court of London, and give a faithful account, as I amsure, to all their _obliging_ inquiries. " In "Thraliana": "_25th Jan_. , 1785. --I have recovered myself sufficiently to thinkwhat will be the consequence to me of Johnson's death, but must waitthe event, as all thoughts on the future in this world are vain. Sixpeople have already undertaken to write his life, I hear, of whichSir John Hawkins, Mr. Boswell, Tom Davies, and Dr. Kippis are four. Piozzi says he would have me add to the number, and so I would, butthat I think my anecdotes too few, and am afraid of saucy answers ifI send to England for others. The saucy answers _I_ should disregard, but my heart is made vulnerable by my late marriage, and I am certainthat, to spite me, they would insult my husband. "Poor Johnson! I see they will leave _nothing untold_ that I labouredso long to keep secret; and I was so very delicate _in trying toconceal his [fancied][1] insanity_ that I retained no proofs of it, or hardly any, nor even mentioned it in these books, lest by my dyingfirst _they_ might be printed and the secret (for such I thought it)discovered. I used to tell him in jest that his biographers would beat a loss concerning some orange-peel he used to keep in his pocket, and many a joke we had about the lives that would be published. Rescue me out of their hands, my dear, and do it yourself, said he;Taylor, Adams, and Hector will furnish you with juvenile anecdotes, and Baretti will give you all the rest that you have not already, forI think Baretti is a lyar only when he speaks of himself. Oh, said I, Baretti told me yesterday that you got by heart six pages ofMachiavel's History once, and repeated them thirty years afterwardsword for word. Why this is a _gross_ lye, said Johnson, I never readthe book at all. Baretti too told me of you (said I) that you oncekept sixteen cats in your chamber, and yet they scratched your legsto such a degree, you were forced to use mercurial plaisters for sometime after. Why this (replied Johnson) is an unprovoked lye indeed; Ithought the fellow would not have broken through divine and humanlaws thus to make puss his heroine, but I see I was mistaken. " [Footnote 1: Sic in the MS. See _antè_, p. 202. ] On February 3rd, 1785, Horace Walpole writes from London to SirHorace Mann at Florence:--"I have lately been lent a volume of poemscomposed and printed at Florence, in which another of our exheroines, Mrs. Piozzi, has a considerable share; her associates three of theEnglish bards who assisted in the little garland which Ramsay thepainter sent me. The present is a plump octavo; and if you have notsent me a copy by our nephew, I should be glad if you could get onefor me: not for the merit of the verses, which are moderate enoughand faint imitations of our good poets; but for a short and sensibleand genteel preface by La Piozzi, from whom I have just seen a veryclever letter to Mrs. Montagu, to disavow a jackanapes who has latelymade a noise here, one Boswell, by Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson. In a dayor two we expect another collection by the same Signora. " Her associates were Greathead, Merry, and Parsons. The volume inquestion was "The Florence Miscellany. " "A copy, " says Mr. Lowndes, "having fallen into the hands of W. Grifford, gave rise to hisadmirable satire of the 'Baviad and Moeviad. '" In his Journal of the Tour to the Hebrides, Boswell makes Johnson sayof Mrs. Montagu's "Essay on Shakespeare": "Reynolds is fond of herbook, and I wonder at it; for neither I, nor Beauclerc, nor Mrs. Thrale could get through it. " This is what Mrs. Piozzi wrote todisavow, so far as she was personally concerned. In a subsequentletter from Vienna, she says: "Mrs. Montagu has written to me verysweetly. " The other collection expected from her was her "Anecdotesof the late Samuel Johnson, during the last Twenty Years of his Life. Printed for T. Cadell in the Strand, 1786. " She opened the matter to Mr. Cadell in the following terms: "Florence, 7th June, 1785. "_Sir_. , --As you were at once the bookseller and friend of Dr. Johnson, who always spoke of your character in the kindest terms, Icould wish you likewise to be the publisher of some Anecdotesconcerning the last twenty years of his life, collected by me duringthe many days I had opportunity to spend in his instructive company, and digested into method since I heard of his death. As I have alarge collection of his letters in England, besides some verses, known only to myself, I wish to delay printing till we can make twoor three little volumes, not unacceptable, perhaps, to the public;but I desire my intention to be notified, for divers reasons, and, ifyou approve of the scheme, should wish it to be immediatelyadvertized. My return cannot be in less than twelve months, and wemay be detained still longer, as our intention is to complete thetour of Italy; but the book is in forwardness, and it has been seenby many English and Italian friends. " On July 27th, 1785, she writes from Florence: "We celebrated our wedding anniversary two days ago with amagnificent dinner and concert, at which the Prince Corsini and hisbrother the Cardinal did us the honour of assisting, and wished usjoy in the tenderest and politest terms. Lord and Lady Cowper, LordPembroke, and _all_ the English indeed, doat on my husband, and showus every possible attention. " On the 18th July, 1785, she writes again to Mr. Cadell:--"I amfavoured with your answer and pleased with the advertisement, but itwill be impossible to print the verses till my return to England, asthey are all locked up with other papers in the Bank, nor should Ichoose to put the key (which is now at Milan) in any one's handexcept my own. " She therefore proposes that the "Anecdotes" shall be printed first, and published separately. On the 20th October, 1785, she writes fromSienna: "I finished my 'Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson' at Florence, and takingthem with me to Leghorn, got a clear transcript made there, such as Ihope will do for you to print from; though there may be some errors, perhaps many, which have escaped me, as I am wholly unused to thebusiness of sending manuscripts to the press, and must rely on you toget everything done properly when, it comes into your hands. " Such was the surviving ascendency of Johnson, or such the placabilityof her disposition, that, but for Piozzi's remonstrances, she wouldhave softened down her "Anecdotes" to an extent which would havedestroyed much of their sterling value. Mr. Lysons made the final bargain with Cadell, and had full power toact for her. She writes thus to Cadell: "Rome, 28th March, 1786. "SIR, --I hasten to tell you that I am perfectly pleased and contentedwith the alterations made by my worthy and amiable friends in the'Anecdotes of Johnson's Life. ' Whatever is done by Sir Lucas Pepys iscertainly well done, and I am happy in the thoughts of his havinginterested himself about it. Mr. Lysons was very judicious and verykind in going to the Bishop of Peterboro', and him and Dr. Lort foradvice. There is no better to be had in the world, I believe; and itis my desire that they should be always consulted about any futuretransactions of the same sort relating to, Sir, your most obedientservant, "H. L. PIOZZI. "[1] [Footnote 1: The letters to Mr. Cadell were published in the"Gentleman's Magazine" for March and April, 1852. ] The early portions of "Thraliana" were evidently amongst the paperslocked up in the Bank, and she consequently wrote most of theAnecdotes from memory, which may account for some minordiscrepancies, like that relating to the year in which she made theacquaintance with Johnson. The book attracted great attention; and whilst some affected todiscover in it the latent signs of wounded vanity and pique, othersvehemently impugned its accuracy. Foremost amongst her assailantsstood Boswell, who had an obvious motive for depreciating her, and heattempts to destroy her authority, first, by quoting Johnson'ssupposed imputations on her veracity; and secondly, by individualinstances of her alleged departure from truth. Thus, Johnson is reported to have said:--"It is amazing, Sir, whatdeviations there are from precise truth, in the account which isgiven of almost everything. I told Mrs. Thrale, You have so littleanxiety about truth that you never tax your memory with the exactthing. " Her proneness to exaggerated praise especially excited hisindignation, and he endeavours to make her responsible for hisrudeness on the strength of it. "Mrs. Thrale gave high praise to Mr. Dudley Long (now North). _Johnson_. 'Nay, my dear lady, don't talk so. Mr. Long's character isvery _short_. It is nothing. He fills a chair. He is a man of genteelappearance, and that is all. I know nobody who blasts by praise asyou do: for whenever there is exaggerated praise, every body is setagainst a character. They are provoked to attack it. Now there isPepys; you praised that man with such disproportion, that I wasincited to lessen him, perhaps more than he deserves. _His blood isupon your head_. By the same principle, your malice defeats itself;for your censure is too violent. And yet (looking to her with aleering smile) she is the first woman in the world, could she butrestrain that wicked tongue of hers;--she would be the only woman, could she but command that little whirligig. '" Opposite the words I have printed in italics she has written: "Anexpression he would not have used; no, not for worlds. " In Boswell's note of a visit to Streatham in 1778, we find:-- "Next morning, while we were at breakfast, Johnson gave a veryearnest recommendation of what he himself practised with the utmostconscientiousness: I mean a strict attention to truth even in themost minute particulars. 'Accustom your children, ' said he, 'constantly to this: if a thing happened at one window, and they, when relating it, say that it happened at another, do not let itpass, but instantly check them: you do not know where deviation fromtruth will end. ' _Boswell_. 'It may come to the door: and when oncean account is at all varied in one circumstance, it may by degrees bevaried so as to be totally different from what really happened. ' Ourlively hostess, whose fancy was impatient of the rein, fidgeted atthis, and ventured to say 'Nay, this is too much. If Dr. Johnsonshould forbid me to drink tea, I would comply, as I should feel therestraint only twice a day: but little variations in narrative musthappen a thousand times a day, if one is not perpetually watching. '_Johnson_. 'Well, Madam, and you _ought_ to be perpetually watching. It is more from carelessness about truth, than from intentionallying, that there is so much falsehood in the world. '" Now for the illustrative incident, which occurred during the samevisit:-- "I had before dinner repeated a ridiculous story told me by an oldman, who had been a passenger with me in the stage-coach to-day. Mrs. Thrale, having taken occasion to allude to it in talking to me, called it, 'The story told you by the old _woman_. ' 'Now, Madam, 'said I, 'give me leave to catch you in the fact: it was not an old_woman_, but an old _man_, whom I mentioned as having told me this. 'I presumed to take an opportunity, in the presence of Johnson, ofshowing this lively lady how ready she was, unintentionally, todeviate from exact authenticity of narration. " In the margin: "Mrs. Thrale knew there was no such thing as an OldMan: when a man gets superannuated, they call him an Old Woman. " The remarks on the value of truth attributed to Johnson are just andsound in the main, but when they are pointed against character, theymust be weighed in reference to the very high standard he habituallyinsisted upon. He would not allow his servant to say he was not athome when he was. "A servant's strict regard for truth, " hecontinued, "must be weakened by such a practice. A philosopher mayknow that it is merely a form of denial; but few servants are suchnice distinguishers. If I accustom a servant to tell a lie for me, have I not reason to apprehend that he will tell many lies forhimself?" One of his townspeople, Mr. Wickens, of Lichfield, was walking withhim in a small meandering shrubbery formed so as to hide thetermination, and observed that it might be taken for an extensivelabyrinth, but that it would prove a deception, though it was, indeed, not an unpardonable one. "Sir, " exclaimed Johnson, "don'ttell me of deception; a lie, Sir, is a lie, whether it be a lie tothe eye or a lie to the ear. " Whilst he was in one of theseparadoxical humours, there was no pleasing him; and he has been knownto insult persons of respectability for repeating current accounts ofevents, sounding new and strange, which turned out to be literallytrue; such as the red-hot shot at Gibraltar, or the effects of theearthquake at Lisbon. Yet he could be lax when it suited him, asspeaking of epitaphs: "The writer of an epitaph should not beconsidered as saying nothing but what is strictly true. Allowancemust be made for some degree of exaggerated praise. In lapidaryinscriptions a man is not upon oath. " Is he upon oath in narrating ananecdote? or could he do more than swear to the best of hisrecollection and belief, if he was. Boswell's notes of conversationsare wonderful results of a peculiar faculty, or combination offaculties, but the utmost they can be supposed to convey is thesubstance of what took place, in an exceedingly condensed shape, lighted up at intervals by the _ipsissima verba_, of the speaker. "Whilst he went on talking triumphantly, " says Boswell, "I was fixedin admiration, and said to Mrs. Thrale, 'O for short-hand to takethis down!' 'You'll carry it all in your head, ' said she; 'a longhead is as good as short-hand. '" On his boasting of the efficiency ofhis own system of short-hand to Johnson, he was put to the test andfailed. Mrs. Piozzi at once admits and accounts for the inferiority of herown collection of anecdotes, when she denounces "a trick which I haveseen played on common occasions, of sitting steadily down at theother end of the room, to write at the moment what should be said incompany, either _by_ Dr. Johnson or _to_ him, I never practisedmyself, nor approved of in another. There is something so ill-bred, and so inclining to treachery in this conduct, that were it commonlyadopted, all confidence would soon be exiled from society, and aconversation assembly room would become tremendous as a court ofjustice. " This is a hit at Boswell, who (as regards Johnson himself)had full licence to take notes the best way he could. MadameD'Arblay's are much fuller, and bear a suspicious resemblance to thedialogues in her novels. In a reply to Boswell, dated December 14th, 1793, Miss Sewardpointedly remarks: "Dr. Johnson's frequently-expressed contempt for Mrs. Thrale onaccount of that want of veracity which he imputes to her, at least asMr. Boswell has recorded, either convicts him of narrating whatJohnson never said, or Johnson himself of that insincerity of whichthere are too many instances, amidst all the recorded proofs of hisunprovoked personal rudeness, to those with whom he conversed; for, this repeated contempt was coeval with his published letters, whichexpress such high and perfect esteem for that lady, which declarethat 'to hear her, was to hear Wisdom, that to see her, was to seeVirtue. '" Lord Macaulay and his advocate in the "Edinburgh Review, " who speakof Mrs. Piozzi's "white lies, " have not convicted her of one; and Mr. Croker bears strong testimony to her accuracy. Mrs. Piozzi prefaces some instances of Johnson's rudeness andharshness by the remark, that "he did not hate the persons he treatedwith roughness, or despise them whom he drove from him by apparentscorn. He really loved and respected many whom he would not suffer tolove him. " Boswell echoes the remark, multiplies the instances, andthen accuses her of misrepresenting their friend. After mentioning adiscourteous reply to Robertson the historian, which was subsequentlyconfirmed by Boswell, she proceeds to show that Johnson was nogentler to herself or those for whom he had the greatest regard. "When I one day lamented the loss of a first cousin, killed inAmerica, 'Prithee, my dear (said he), have done with canting: howwould the world be worse for it, I may ask, if all your relationswere at once spitted like larks and roasted for Presto'ssupper?'--Presto was the dog that lay under the table. " To thisBoswell opposes the version given by Baretti: "Mrs. Thrale, while supping very heartily upon larks, laid down herknife and fork, and abruptly exclaimed, 'O, my dear Johnson! do youknow what has happened? The last letters from abroad have brought usan account that our poor cousin's head was taken off by acannon-ball. ' Johnson, who was shocked both at the fact and her lightunfeeling manner of mentioning it, replied, 'Madam, it would give_you_ very little concern if all your relations were spitted likethose larks, and dressed for Presto's supper. " This version, assuming its truth, aggravates the personal rudeness ofthe speech. But her marginal notes on the passage are: "Boswellappealing to Baretti for a testimony of the truth is comical enough!I never addressed him (Johnson) so familiarly in my life. I never dideat any supper, and there were no larks to eat. " "Upon mentioning this story to my friend Mr. Wilkes, " adds Boswell, "he pleasantly matched it with the following sentimental anecdote. Hewas invited by a young man of fashion at Paris to sup with him and alady who had been for some time his mistress, but with whom he wasgoing to part. He said to Mr. Wilkes that he really felt very muchfor her, she was in such distress, and that he meant to make her apresent of 200 louis d'ors. Mr. Wilkes observed the behaviour ofMademoiselle, who sighed indeed very piteously, and assumed everypathetic air of grief, but ate no less than three French pigeons, which are as large as English partridges, besides other things. Mr. Wilkes whispered the gentleman, 'We often say in England, "Excessivesorrow is exceeding dry, " but I never heard "Excessive sorrow isexceeding hungry. " Perhaps one hundred will do. The gentleman tookthe hint. " Mrs. Piozzi's marginal ebullition is: "Very like my heartysupper of larks, who never eat supper at all, nor was ever a hot dishseen on the table after dinner at Streatham Park. " Two instances of inaccuracy, announced as particularly worthy ofnotice, are supplied by "an eminent critic, " understood to be Malone, who begins by stating, "I have often been in his (Johnson's) company, and never _once_ heard him say a severe thing to any one; and manyothers can attest the same. " Malone had lived very little withJohnson, and to appreciate his evidence, we should know what he andBoswell would agree to call a severe thing. Once, on Johnson'sobserving that they had "good talk" on the "preceding evening, " "Yes, Sir, " replied Boswell, "you tossed and gored several persons. " Dotossing and goring come within the definition of severity? In anotherplace he says, "I have seen even Mrs. Thrale stunned;" and MissReynolds relates that "One day at her own table he spoke so veryroughly to her, that every one present was surprised that she couldbear it so placidly; and on the ladies withdrawing, I expressed greatastonishment that Dr. Johnson should speak so harshly to her, but tothis she said no more than 'Oh, dear, good man. '" One of the two instances of Mrs. Piozzi's inaccuracy is asfollows:--"He once bade a very celebrated lady (Hannah More) whopraised him with too much zeal perhaps, or perhaps too strong anemphasis (which always offended him) consider what her flattery wasworth before she choaked _him_ with it. " Now, exclaims Mr. Malone, let the genuine anecdote be contrasted withthis: "The person thus represented as being harshly treated, though a verycelebrated lady, was _then_ just come to London from an obscuresituation in the country. At Sir Joshua Reynolds's one evening, shemet Dr. Johnson. She very soon began to pay her court to him in themost fulsome strain. 'Spare me, I beseech you, dear Madam, ' was hisreply. She still _laid it on_. 'Pray, Madam, let us have no more ofthis, ' he rejoined. Not paying any attention to these warnings, shecontinued still her eulogy. At length, provoked by this indelicateand _vain_ obtrusion of compliments, he exclaimed, 'Dearest lady, consider with yourself what your flattery is worth, before you bestowit so freely. ' "How different does this story appear, when accompanied with allthose circumstances which really belong to it, but which Mrs. Thraleeither did not know, or has suppressed!" How do we know that these circumstances really belong to it? whatessential difference do they make? and how do they prove Mrs. Thrale's inaccuracy, who expressly states the nature of the probable, though certainly most inadequate, provocation. The other instance is a story which she tells on Mr. Thrale'sauthority, of an argument between Johnson and a gentleman, which themaster of the house, a nobleman, tried to cut short by saying loudenough for the doctor to hear, "Our friend has no meaning in allthis, except just to relate at the Club to-morrow how he teasedJohnson at dinner to-day; this is all to do himself honour. " "No, upon my word, " replied the other, "I see no honour in it, whateveryou may do. " "Well, Sir, " returned Mr. Johnson sternly, "if you donot see the honour, I am sure I feel the disgrace. " Malone, on theauthority of a nameless friend, asserts that it was not at the houseof a nobleman, that the gentleman's remark was uttered in a low tone, and that Johnson made no retort at all. As Mrs. Piozzi could hardlyhave invented the story, the sole question is, whether Mr. Thrale orMalone's friend was right. She has written in the margin: "It was thehouse of Thomas Fitzmaurice, son to Lord Shelburne, and Pottinger thehero. "[1] "Mrs. Piozzi, " says Boswell, "has given a similar misrepresentationof Johnson's treatment of Garrick in this particular (as to theClub), as if he had used these contemptuous expressions: 'If Garrickdoes apply, I'll blackball him. Surely one ought to sit in a societylike ours-- "'Unelbow'd by a gamester, pimp, or player. '" The lady retorts, "He did say so, and Mr. Thrale stood astonished. "Johnson was constantly depreciating the profession of the stage. [2] [Footnote 1: "Being in company with Count Z----, at Lord ----'stable, the Count thinking the Doctor too dogmatical, observed, he didnot at all think himself honoured by the conversation. ' And what isto become of me, my lord, who feel myself actuallydisgraced?"--_Johnsoniana_, p. 143, first edition. ] [Footnote 2: "_Boswell_. There, Sir, you are always heretical, younever will allow merit to a player. _Johnson_. Merit, Sir, whatmerit? Do you respect a rope-dancer or aballad-singer?"--_Boswell's Life of Johnson_, p. 556. ] Whilst finding fault with Mrs. Piozzi for inaccuracy in anotherplace, Boswell supplies an additional example of Johnson's habitualdisregard of the ordinary rules of good breeding in society:-- "A learned gentleman [Dr. Vansittart], who, in the course ofconversation, wished to inform us of this simple fact, that thecouncil upon the circuit of Shrewsbury were much bitten by fleas, took, I suppose, seven or eight minutes in relating itcircumstantially. He in a plenitude of phrase told us, that largebales of woollen cloth were lodged in the town-hall; that by reasonof this, fleas nestled there in prodigious numbers; that the lodgingsof the council were near the town-hall; and that those little animalsmoved from place to place with wonderful agility. Johnson sat ingreat impatience till the gentleman had finished his tediousnarrative, and then burst out (playfully however), 'It is a pity, Sir, that you have not seen a lion; for a flea has taken you such atime, that a lion must have served you a twelve-month. '" He complains in a note that Mrs. Piozzi, to whom he told theanecdote, has related it "as if the gentleman had given the naturalhistory of the mouse. " But, in a letter to Johnson she tells _him_ "Ihave seen the man that saw the mouse, " and he replies "Poor V----, heis a good man, &c. ;" so that her version of the story is the bestauthenticated. Opposite Boswell's aggressive paragraph she haswritten: "I saw old Mitchell of Brighthelmstone affront him (Johnson)terribly once about fleas. Johnson, being tired of the subject, expressed his impatience of it with coarseness. 'Why, Sir, ' said theold man, 'why should not Flea bite o'me be treated as Phlebotomy? Itempties the capillary vessels. '" Boswell's Life of Johnson was not published till 1791; but thecontroversy kindled by the Tour to the Hebrides and the Anecdotes, raged fiercely enough to fix general attention and afford ample scopefor ridicule: "The Bozzi &c. Subjects, " writes Hannah More in April1786, "are not exhausted, though everybody seems heartily sick ofthem. Everybody, however, conspires not to let them drop. _That_, theCagliostro, and the Cardinal's necklace, spoil all conversation, anddestroyed a very good evening at Mr. Pepys' last night. " In one ofWalpole's letters about the same time we find: "All conversation turns on a trio of culprits--Hastings, Fitzgerald, and the Cardinal de Rohan. .. . So much for tragedy. Our comicperformers are Boswell and Dame Piozzi. The cock biographer has fixeda direct lie on the hen, by an advertisement in which he affirms thathe communicated his manuscript to Madame Thrale, and that she made noobjection to what he says of her low opinion of Mrs. Montagu's book. It is very possible that it might not be her real opinion, but wasuttered in compliment to Johnson, or for fear he should spit in herface if she disagreed with him; but how will she get over her notobjecting to the passage remaining? She must have known, by knowingBoswell, and by having a similar intention herself, that his'Anecdotes' would certainly be published: in short, the ridiculouswoman will be strangely disappointed. As she must have heard that_the whole first impression of her book was sold the first day_, nodoubt she expected on her landing, to be received like the governorof Gibraltar, and to find the road strewed with branches of palm. She, and Boswell, and their Hero, are the joke of the public. A Dr. Walcot, _soi-disant_ Peter Pindar, has published a burlesque eclogue, in which Boswell and the Signora are the interlocutors, and all theabsurdest passages in the works of both are ridiculed. Theprint-shops teem with satiric prints in them: one in which Boswell, as a monkey, is riding on Johnson, the bear, has this wittyinscription, 'My Friend _delineavit_. ' But enough of thesemountebanks. " What Walpole calls the absurdest passages are precisely those whichpossess most interest for posterity; namely, the minute personaldetails, which bring Johnson home to the mind's eye. Peter Pindar, however, was simply labouring in his vocation when he made the bestof them, as in the following lines. His satire is in the form of aTown Eclogue, in which Bozzy and Madame Piozzi contend in anecdotes, with Hawkins for umpire: BOZZY. "One Thursday morn did Doctor Johnson wake, And call out 'Lanky, Lanky, ' by mistake-- But recollecting--'Bozzy, Bozzy, ' cry'd-- For in _contractions_ Johnson took a pride!" MADAME PIOZZI. "I ask'd him if he knock'd Tom Osborn down; As such a tale was current through the town, -- Says I, 'Do tell me, Doctor, what befell. '-- 'Why, dearest lady, there is nought to _tell_; 'I ponder'd on the _proper'st_ mode to _treat_ him-- 'The dog was impudent, and so I beat him! 'Tom, like a fool, proclaim'd his fancied wrongs; '_Others_, that I belabour'd, held their tongues. '" "Did any one, that he was _happy_, cry-- Johnson would tell him plumply, 'twas a lie. A Lady told him she was really so; On which he sternly answer'd, 'Madam, no! 'Sickly you are, and ugly--foolish, poor; 'And therefore can't he happy, I am sure. ''Twould make a fellow hang himself, whose ear 'Were, from such creatures, forc'd such stuff to hear. '" BOZZY. "Lo, when we landed on the Isle of Mull, The megrims got into the Doctor's skull: With such bad humours he began to fill, I thought he would not go to Icolmkill: But lo! those megrims (wonderful to utter!) Were banish'd all by tea and bread and butter!" At last they get angry, and tell each other a fewhome truths:-- BOZZY. "How could your folly tell, so void of truth, That miserable story of the youth, Who, in your book, of Doctor Johnson begs Most seriously to know if cats laid eggs!" MADAME PIOZZI. "_Who_ told of Mistress Montagu the lie-- So palpable a falsehood?--Bozzy, fie!" BOZZY. "_Who_, madd'ning with an anecdotic itch, Declar'd that Johnson call'd his mother _b-tch?_" MADAME PIOZZI. "_Who_, from M'Donald's rage to save his snout, Cut twenty lines of defamation out?" BOZZY. "_Who_ would have said a word about Sam's wig, Or told the story of the peas and pig? Who would have told a tale so very flat, Of Frank the Black, and Hodge the mangy cat?" MADAME PIOZZI. "Good me! you're grown at once confounded _tender_; Of Doctor Johnson's fame a _fierce_ defender: I'm sure you've mention'd many a pretty story Not much redounding to the Doctor's glory. _Now_ for a _saint_ upon us you would palm him-- First _murder_ the poor man, and then _embalm him!_" BOZZY. "Well, Ma'am! since all that Johnson said or wrote, You hold so sacred, how have you forgot To grant the wonder-hunting world a reading Of Sam's Epistle, just before your _wedding_: Beginning thus, (in strains not form'd to flatter) 'Madam, '_If that most ignominious matter 'Be not concluded_'--[1] Farther shall I say? No--we shall have it from _yourself_ some day, To justify your passion for the _Youth_, With all the charms of eloquence and truth. " MADAME PIOZZI. "What was my marriage, Sir, to _you_ or _him?_ _He_ tell me what to do!--a pretty whim! _He_, to _propriety_, (the beast) _resort!_ As well might _elephants preside_ at _court_. Lord! let the world to _damn_ my match _agree;_ Good God! James Boswell, what's _that world_ to _me?_ The folks who paid respects to Mistress Thrale, Fed on her pork, poor souls! and swill'd her ale, May _sicken_ at Piozzi, nine in ten-- Turn up the nose of scorn--good God! what then? For _me_, the Dev'l may fetch their souls so _great_; _They_ keep their homes, and _I_, thank God, my meat. When they, poor owls! shall beat their cage, a jail, I, unconfin'd, shall spread my peacock tail; Free as the birds of air, enjoy my ease, Choose my own food, and see what climes I please. _I_ suffer only--if I'm in the wrong: So, now, you prating puppy, hold your tongue. " [Footnote 1: This evidently referred to the "adumbration" ofJohnson's letter (No. 4), _antè_, p. 239. ] Walpole's opinion of the book itself had been expressed in apreceding letter, dated March 28th, 1786: "Two days ago appeared Madame Piozzi's Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson. I amlamentably disappointed--in her, I mean: not in him. I had conceiveda favourable opinion of her capacity. But this new book is wretched;a high-varnished preface to a heap of rubbish in a very vulgar style, and too void of method even for such a farrago. . . The Signora talksof her doctor's _expanded_ mind and has contributed her mite to showthat never mind was narrower. In fact, the poor woman is to bepitied: he was mad, and his disciples did not find it out[1], buthave unveiled all his defects; nay, have exhibited all hisbrutalities as wit, and his worst conundrums as humour. Judge! ThePiozzi relates that a young man asking him where Palmyra was, hereplied: 'In Ireland: it was a bog planted with palm trees. '" [Footnote 1: See _antè_, p. 202 and 270. ] Walpole's statement, that the whole first impression was sold thefirst day, is confirmed by one of her letters, and may be placedalongside of a statement of Johnson's reported in the book. Clarissabeing mentioned as a perfect character, "on the contrary (said he)you may observe that there is always something which she prefers totruth. Fielding's Amelia was the most pleasing heroine of all theromances; but that vile broken nose never cured, ruined the sale ofperhaps the only book, which, being printed off betimes one morning, a new edition was called for before night. " When the king sent for a copy of the "Anecdotes" on the evening ofthe publication, there was none to be had. In April, 1786, Hannah More writes: "Mrs. Piozzi's book is much in fashion. It is indeed entertaining, but there are two or three passages exceedingly unkind to Garrickwhich filled me with indignation. If Johnson had been envious enoughto utter them, she might have been prudent enough to suppress them. " In a preceding letter she had said: "Boswell tells me he is printing anecdotes of Dr. Johnson, not his_life_, but, as he has the vanity to call it, his _pyramid_, Ibesought his tenderness for our virtuous and most revered departedfriend, and begged he would mitigate some of his asperities. He saidroughly, he would not cut off his claws, nor make a tiger a cat toplease anybody. " The retort will serve for both Mrs. Piozzi andhimself. Mrs. Piozzi writes from Venice, May 20th, 1786: "Cadell says he neveryet published a work the sale of which was so rapid, and thatrapidity of so long continuance. I suppose the fifth edition willmeet me at my return. " "Milan, July 6th, 1786. "If Cadell would send me some copies, I should be very much obligedto him. _'Tis like living without a looking-glass never to see one'sown book so_. " The copy of the "Anecdotes" in my possession has two inscriptions onthe blank leaves before the title-page. The one is in Mrs. Piozzi'shandwriting: "This little dirty book is kindly accepted by Sir JamesFellowes from his obliged friend, H. L. Piozzi, 14th February, 1816;"the other: "This copy of the 'Anecdotes' was found at Bath, coveredwith dirt, the book having been long out of print[1], and after beingbound was presented to me by my excellent friend, H. L. P. (signed)J. F. " [Footnote 1: The "Anecdotes" were reprinted by Messrs. Longman in1856, and form part of their "Traveller's Library. "] It is enriched by marginal notes in her handwriting, which enable usto fill up a few puzzling blanks, besides supplying some informationrespecting men and books, which will be prized by all lovers ofliterature. One of the anecdotes runs thus: "I asked him once concerning theconversation powers of a gentleman with whom I was myselfunacquainted. 'He talked to me at the Club one day (replies ourDoctor) concerning Catiline's conspiracy; so I withdrew my attention, and thought about Tom Thumb. '" In the margin is written "Charles James Fox. " Mr. Croker came to theconclusion that the gentleman was Mr. Vesey. Boswell says that Foxnever talked with any freedom in the presence of Johnson, whoaccounted for his reserve by suggesting that a man who is used to theapplause of the House of Commons, has no wish for that of a privatecompany. But the real cause was his sensitiveness to rudeness, hisown temper being singularly sweet. By an odd coincidence he occupiedthe presidential chair at the Club on the evening when Johnsonemphatically declared patriotism the last refuge of a scoundrel. Again: "On an occasion of less consequence, when he turned his backon Lord Bolingbroke in the rooms of Brighthelmstone, he made thisexcuse: 'I am not obliged, Sir, ' said he to Mr. Thrale, who stoodfretting, 'to find reasons for respecting the rank of him who willnot condescend to declare it by his dress or some other visible mark:what are stars and other signs of superiority made for?' The nextevening, however, he made us comical amends, by sitting by the samenobleman, and haranguing very loudly about the nature, and use, andabuse, of divorces. Many people gathered round them to hear what wassaid, and when my husband called him away, and told him to whom hehad been talking, received an answer which I will not write down. " The marginal note is: "He said: 'Why, Sir, I did not know the man. Ifhe will put on no other mark of distinction, let us make him wear hishorns. '" Lord Bolingbroke had divorced his wife, afterwards LadyDiana Beauclerc, for infidelity. A marginal note naming the lady of quality (Lady Catherine Wynne)mentioned in the following anecdote, verifies Mr. Croker'sconjectural statement concerning her: "For a lady of quality, since dead, who received us at her husband'sseat in Wales, with less attention than he had long been accustomedto, he had a rougher denunciation: 'That woman, ' cries Johnson, 'islike sour small beer, the beverage of her table, and produce of thewretched country she lives in: like that, she could never have been agood thing, and even that bad thing is spoiled. ' It was in the samevein of asperity, and I believe with something like the sameprovocation, that he observed of a Scotch lady, 'that she resembled adead nettle; were she alive, ' said he, 'she would sting. '" From similar notes we learn that the "somebody" who declared Johnson"a tremendous converser" was George Grarrick; and that it was Dr. Delap, of Sussex, to whom, when lamenting the tender state of his_inside_, he cried out: "Dear Doctor, do not be like the spider, man, and spin conversation thus incessantly out of thy own bowels. " On the margin of the page in which Hawkins Browne is commended as themost delightful of conversers, she has written: "Who wrote the'Imitation of all the Poets' in his own ludicrous verses, praisingthe pipe of tobacco. Of Hawkins Browne, the pretty Mrs. Cholmondeleysaid she was soon tired; because the first hour he was so dull, therewas no bearing him; the second he was so witty, there was no bearinghim; the third he was so drunk, there was no bearing him. " [1] [Footnote 1: Query, whether this is the gentleman immortalised byPeter Plymley: "In the third year of his present Majesty (GeorgeIII. ) and in the thirtieth of his own age, Mr. Isaac Hawkins Brown, then upon his travels, danced one evening at the court of Naples. Hisdress was a volcano silk, with lava buttons. Whether (as theNeapolitan wits said) he had studied dancing under Saint Vitus, orwhether David, dancing in a linen vest, was his model, is not known;but Mr. Brown danced with such inconceivable alacrity and vigour, that he threw the Queen of Naples into convulsions of laughter, whichterminated in a miscarriage, and changed the dynasty of theNeapolitan throne. "] In the "Anecdotes" she relates that one day in Wales she meant toplease Johnson with a dish of young peas. "Are they not charming?"said I, while he was eating them. "Perhaps, " said he, "they would beso--to a pig;" meaning (according to the marginal note), because theywere too little boiled. Pennant, the historian, used to tell this ashaving happened at Mrs. Cotton's, who, according to him, called out, "Then do help yourself, Mr. Johnson. " But the well-known highbreeding of the lady justifies a belief that this is one of the manyrepartees which, if conceived, were never uttered at the time. [1] [Footnote 1: I have heard on good authority that Pennant afterwardsowned it as his own invention. ] When a Lincolnshire lady, shewing Johnson a grotto, asked him: "Wouldit not be a pretty cool habitation in summer?" he replied: "I thinkit would, Madam, _for a toad_. " Talking of Gray's Odes, he said, "They are forced plants, raised in a hotbed; and they are poorplants: they are but cucumbers after all. " A gentleman present, whohad been running down ode-writing in general, as a bad species ofpoetry, unluckily said, "Had they been literally cucumbers, they hadbeen better things than odes. " "Yes, Sir, " said Johnson, "_for ahog_. " To return to the Anecdotes: "Of the various states and conditions of humanity, he despised nonemore, I think, than the man who marries for maintenance: and of afriend who made his alliance on no higher principles, he said once, 'Now has that fellow, ' it was a nobleman of whom we were speaking, 'at length obtained a certainty of three meals a day, and for thatcertainty, like his brother dog in the fable, he will get his neckgalled for life with a collar. '" The nobleman was Lord Sandys. "He recommended, on something like the same principle, that when oneperson meant to serve another, he should not go about it slily, or, as we say, underhand, out of a false idea of delicacy, to surpriseone's friend with an unexpected favour; 'which, ten to one, ' says he, 'fails to oblige your acquaintance, who had some reasons against sucha mode of obligation, which you might have known but for thatsuperfluous cunning which you think an elegance. Oh! never be seducedby such silly pretences, ' continued he; 'if a wench wants a goodgown, do not give her a fine smelling-bottle, because that is moredelicate: as I once knew a lady lend the key of her library to a poorscribbling dependant, as if she took the woman for an ostrich thatcould digest iron. '" This lady was Mrs. Montagu. "I mentioned two friends who were particularly fond of looking atthemselves in a glass--'They do not surprise me at all by so doing, 'said Johnson: 'they see reflected in that glass, men who have risenfrom almost the lowest situations in life; one to enormous riches, the other to everything this world can give--rank, fame, and fortune. They see, likewise, men who have merited their advancement by theexertion and improvement of those talents which God had given them;and I see not why they should avoid the mirror. '" The one, shewrites, was Mr. Cator, the other, Wedderburne. Another great lawyerand very ugly man, Dunning, Lord Ashburton, was remarkable for thesame peculiarity, and had his walls covered with looking-glasses. Hispersonal vanity was excessive; and his boast that a celebratedcourtesan had died with one of his letters in her hand, provoked oneof Wilkes's happiest repartees. Opposite a passage descriptive of Johnson's conversation she haswritten: "We used to say to one another familiarly at Streatham Park, 'Come, let us go into the library, and make Johnson speak Ramblers. '" Dr. Lort writes to Bishop Percy: "December 16th, 1786. "I had a letter lately from Mrs. Piozzi, dated Vienna, November 4, inwhich she says that, after visiting Prague and Dresden, she shallreturn home by Brussels, whither I have written to her; and I imagineshe will be in London early in the new year. Miss Thrale is at herown house at Brighthelmstone, accompanied by a very respectablecompanion, an officer's widow, recommended to her as such. [1] Thereis a new life of Johnson published by a Dr. Towers, a Dissentingminister and Dr. Kippis's associate in the Biographia Britannica, forwhich work I take it for granted this life is to be hashed up againwhen the letter 'J' takes its turn. There is nothing new in it; andthe author gives Johnson and his biographers all fair play, exceptwhen he treats of his political opinions and pamphlets. I was glad tohear that Johnson confessed to Dr. Fordyce, a little before hisdeath, that he had offended both God and man by his pride ofunderstanding. [2] Sir John Hawkins' Life of him is also finished, andwill be published with the works in February next. From all these Isuppose Boswell will borrow largely to make up his quarto life;--andso our modern authors proceed, preying on one another, andcomplaining sorely of each other. " [Footnote 1: The Hon. Mrs. Murray, afterwards Mrs. Aust!] [Footnote 2: He used very different language to Langton. ] "March 8th, 1787. "I had a letter lately from Mrs. Piozzi from Brussels, intimatingthat she should soon be in England, and I expect every day to hear ofher arrival. I do not believe that she purchased a marquisate abroad;but it is said, with some probability, that she will here get theKing's license, or an act of Parliament, to change her name toSalusbury, her maiden name. Sir John Hawkins, I am told, bears hardupon her in his 'Life of Johnson. '" "March 21st, 1787. "Mr. And Mrs. Piozzi are arrived at an hotel in Pall Mall, and areabout to take a house in Hanover Square; they were with me lastSaturday evening, when I asked some of her friends to meet her; shelooks very well, and seems in good spirits; told me she had been thatmorning at the bank to get 'Johnson's Correspondence' amongst otherpapers, which she means forthwith to commit to the press. There is abookseller has printed two supplementary volumes to Hawkins' eleven, consisting almost wholly of the 'Lilliputian Speeches. ' Hawkins hasprinted a Review of the 'Sublime and Beautiful' as Johnson's, whichMurphy says was his. " "March 13th, 1787. "Mrs. Piozzi and her _caro sposo_ seem very happy here at a goodhouse in Hanover Square, where I am invited to a rout next week, thefirst I believe she has attempted, and then will be seen who of herold acquaintance continue such. She is now printing Johnson's Lettersin 2 vols. Octavo, with some of her own; but if they are not readybefore the recess they will not be published till next winter. PoorSir John Hawkins, I am told, is pulled all to pieces in the Review. "Sir John was treated according to his deserts, and did not escapewhipping. One of the severest castigations was inflicted by Porson. Before mentioning her next publication, I will show from "Thraliana"her state of mind when about to start for England, and herimpressions of things and people on her return: "1786. --It has always been my maxim never to influence theinclination of another: Mr. Thrale, in consequence, lived with meseventeen and a half years, during which time I tried but twice topersuade him to _do_ anything, and but once, and that in vain, to letanything alone. Even my daughters, as soon as they could reason, werealways allowed, and even encouraged, by me to reason their own way, and not suffer their respect or affection for me to mislead theirjudgment. Let us keep the mind clear if we can from prejudices, ortruth will never be found at all. [1] The worst part of thisdisinterested scheme is, that other people are not of my mind, and ifI resolve not to use my lawful influence to make my children love me, the lookers-on will soon use their unlawful influence to make themhate me: if I scrupulously avoid persuading my husband to become aLutheran or be of the English church, the Romanists will be diligentto teach him all the narrowness and bitterness of their own unfeelingsect, and soon persuade him that it is not delicacy but weaknessmakes me desist from the combat. Well! let me do right, and leave theconsequences in His hand who alone sees every action's motive and thetrue cause of every effect: let me endeavour to please God, and tohave only my own faults and follies, not those of another, to answerfor. " [Footnote 1: "Clear your mind of _cant_. "--JOHNSON. ] "1787, _May_ 1_st_. --It was not wrong to come home after all, butvery right. The Italians would have said we were afraid to faceEngland, and the English would have said we were confined abroad inprisons or convents or some stuff. I find Mr. Smith (one of ourdaughter's guardians) told that poor baby Cecilia a fine staring talehow my husband locked me up at Milan and fed me on bread and water, to make the child hate Mr. Piozzi. Good God! What infamousproceeding was this! My husband never saw the fellow, so could nothave provoked him. " "_May_ 19_th_. --We bad a fine assembly last night indeed: in my bestdays I never had finer: there were near a hundred people in the roomswhich were besides much admired. " "1788, _January_ 1_st_. --How little I thought this day four yearsthat I should celebrate this 1st of January, 1788, here at Bath, surrounded with friends and admirers? The public partial to _me_, andalmost every individual whose kindness is worth wishing for, sincerely attached to my husband. " "Mrs. Byron is converted by Piozzi's assiduity, she really likes himnow: and sweet Mrs. Lambert told everybody at Bath she was in lovewith him. " "I have passed a delightful winter in spite of them, caressed by myfriends, adored by my husband, amused with every entertainment thatis going forward: what need I think about three sullen Misses? . .. And yet!"---- "_August_ 1_st_--Baretti has been grossly abusive in the 'EuropeanMagazine' to me: _that_ hurts me but little; what shocks me is thatthose treacherous Burneys should abet and puff him. He is a mostungrateful because unprincipled wretch; but I _am_ sorry thatanything belonging to Dr. Burney should be so monstrously wicked. " "1789, _January_ 17_th_. --Mrs. Siddons dined in a coterie of myunprovoked enemies yesterday at Porteous's. She mentioned ourconcerts, and the Erskines lamented their absence from one we gavetwo days ago, at which Mrs. Garrick was present and gave a goodreport to the _Blues_. Charming Blues! blue with venom I think; Isuppose they begin to be ashamed of their paltry behaviour. Mrs. Grarrick, more prudent than any of them, left a loophole forreturning friendship to fasten through, and it _shall_ fasten: thatwoman has lived a _very wise life_, regular and steady in herconduct, attentive to every word she speaks and every step shetreads, decorous in her manners and graceful in her person. My fancyforms the Queen just like Mrs. Grarrick: they are countrywomen andhave, as the phrase is, had a hard card to play; yet never lurched bytricksters nor subdued by superior powers, they will rise from thetable unhurt either by others or themselves . .. Having played a_saving game. I_ have run risques to be sure, that I have; yet-- "'When after some distinguished leap She drops her pole and seems to slip, Straight gath'ring all her active strength, She rises higher half her length;' and better than _now_ I have never stood with the world in general, Ibelieve. May the books just sent to press confirm the partiality ofthe Public!" "1789, _January_. --I have a great deal more prudence than peoplesuspect me for: they think I act by chance while I am doing nothingin the world unintentionally, and have never, I dare say, in theselast fifteen years uttered a word to husband, or child, or servant, or friend, without being very careful what it should be. Often have Ispoken what I have repented after, but that was want of _judgment_, not of _meaning_. What I said I meant to say at the time, and thoughtit best to say, . .. I do not err from haste or a spirit of rattling, as people think I do: when I err, 'tis because I make a falseconclusion, not because I make no conclusion at all; when I rattle, Irattle on purpose. " "1789, _May_ 1_st_. --Mrs. Montagu wants to make up with me again. Idare say she does; but I will not be taken and left even at thepleasure of those who are much nearer and dearer to me than Mrs. Montagu. We want no flash, no flattery. I never had more of either inmy life, nor ever lived half so happily: Mrs. Montagu wrote creepingletters when she wanted my help, or foolishly _thought_ she did, andthen turned her back upon me and set her adherents to do the same. Idespise such conduct, and Mr. Pepys, Mrs. Ord, &c. Now sneak aboutand look ashamed of themselves--well they may!" "1790, _March_ 18_th_. --I met Miss Burney at an assembly lastnight--'tis six years since I had seen her: she appeared most fondlyrejoyced, in good time! and Mrs. Locke, at whose house we stumbled oneach other, pretended that she had such a regard for me, &c. Ianswered with ease and coldness, but in exceeding good humour: and wetalked of the King and Queen, his Majesty's illness and recovery . .. And all ended, as it should do, with perfect indifference. " "I saw _Master Pepys_[1] too and Mrs. Ord; and only see how foolishand how mortified the people do but look. " [Footnote 1: This is Sir W. Pepys mentioned _antè_, p. 252. ] "Barclay and Perkins live very genteelly. I dined with them at ourbrewhouse one day last week. I felt so oddly in the old house where Ihad lived so long. " "The Pepyses find out that they have used me very ill. .. . I hope theyfind out too that I do not care, Seward too sues for reconcilementunderhand . .. So they do all; and I sincerely forgive them--but, likethe linnet in 'Metastasio'-- "'Cauto divien per prova Nè più tradir si fà. ' "'When lim'd, the poor bird thus with eagerness strains, Nor regrets his torn wing while his freedom he gains: The loss of his plumage small time will restore, And once tried the false twig--it shall cheat him no more. '" "1790, _July_ 28_th_. --We have kept our seventh wedding day andcelebrated our return to _this house_[1] with prodigious splendourand gaiety. Seventy people to dinner. .. . Never was a pleasanter dayseen, and at night the trees and front of the house were illuminatedwith coloured lamps that called forth our neighbours from all theadjacent villages to admire and enjoy the diversion. Many friendsswear that not less than a thousand men, women, and children mighthave been counted in the house and grounds, where, though all wereadmitted, nothing was stolen, lost, or broken, or even damaged--acircumstance almost incredible; and which gave Mr. Piozzi a highopinion of English gratitude and respectful attachment. " [Footnote 1: Streatham. ] "1790, _December 1st_. --Dr. Parr and I are in correspondence, and hisletters are very flattering: I am proud of his notice to be sure, andhe seems pleased with my acknowledgments of esteem: he is aprodigious scholar . .. But in the meantime I have lost Dr. Lort. "[1] [Footnote 1: He died November 5th, 1790. ] In the Conway Notes, she thus sums up her life from March 1787 to1791: "On first reaching London, we drove to the Royal Hotel in Pall Mall, and, arriving early, I proposed going to the Play. There was a smallfront box, in those days, which held only two; it made the division, or connexion, with the side boxes, and, being unoccupied, we sat init, and saw Mrs. Siddons act Imogen, I well remember, and Mrs. Jordan, Priscilla Tomboy. Mr. Piozzi was amused, and the next day wasspent in looking at houses, counting the cards left by oldacquaintances, &c. The lady-daughters came, behaved with coldcivility, and asked what I thought of _their_ decision concerningCecilia, then at school. No reply was made, or a gentle one; but shewas the first cause of contention among us. The lawyers gave her intomy care, and we took her home to our new habitation in HanoverSquare, which we opened with music, cards, &c. , on, I think, the 22ndMarch. Miss Thrales refused their company; so we managed as well aswe could. Our affairs were in good order, and money ready forspending. The World, as it is called, appeared good-humoured, and wewere soon followed, respected, and admired. The summer months sent usabout visiting and pleasuring, . .. And after another gay Londonseason, Streatham Park, unoccupied by tenants, called us as if_really home_. Mr. Piozzi, with more generosity than prudence, spenttwo thousand pounds on repairing and furnishing it in 1790;--and wehad danced all night, I recollect, when the news came of LouisSeize's escape from, and recapture by, his rebel subjects. '" The following are some of the names most frequently mentioned in herDiary as visiting or corresponding with her after her return fromItaly: Lord Fife, Dr. Moore, the Kembles, Dr. Currie, Mrs. Lewis(widow of the Dean of Ossory), Dr. Lort, Sir Lucas Pepys, Mr. Selwin, Sammy Lysons (_sic_), Sir Philip Clerke, Hon. Mrs. Byron, Mrs. Siddons, Arthur Murphy, Mr. And Mrs. Whalley, the Greatheads, Mr. Parsons, Miss Seward, Miss Lee, Dr. Barnard (Bishop of Killaloe, better known as Dean of Derry), Hinchcliffe (Bishop of Peterborough), Mrs. Lambert, the Staffords, Lord Huntingdon, Lady Betty Cobb and herdaughter Mrs. Gould, Lord Dudley, Lord Cowper, Lord Pembroke, MarquisAraciel, Count Marteningo, Count Meltze, Mrs. Drummond Smith, Mr. Chappelow, Mrs. Hobart, Miss Nicholson, Mrs. Locke, Lord Deerhurst. Resentment for her imputed unkindness to Johnson might have beenexpected to last longest at his birthplace. But Miss Seward writesfrom Lichfield, October 6th, 1787: "Mrs. Piozzi completely answers your description: her conversation isindeed that bright wine of the intellects which has no lees. .. . Ishall always feel indebted to him (Mr. Perkins) for eight or ninehours of Mr. And Mrs. Piozzi's society. They passed one evening here, and I the next with them at their inn. " Again to Miss Helen Williams, Lichfield, December, 25th, 1787: "Yes, it is very true, on the evening he (Colonel Barry) mentioned toyou, when Mrs. Piozzi honoured this roof, his conversation greatlycontributed to its Attic spirit. Till that day I had never conversedwith her. There has been no exaggeration, there could be none, in thedescription given you of Mrs. Piozzi's talents for conversation; atleast in the powers of classic allusion and brilliant wit. " Mrs. Piozzi's next publication was "Letters To and From the lateSamuel Johnson, LL. D. , &c. " In the Preface she speaks of the"Anecdotes" having been received with a degree of approbation shehardly dared to hope, and exclaims, "May these Letters in somemeasure pay my debt of gratitude! they will not surely be the_first_, the _only_ thing written by Johnson, with which our nationhas not been pleased. " . .. "The good taste by which our countrymenare distinguished, will lead them to prefer the native thoughts andunstudied phrases scattered over these pages to the more labouredelegance of his other works; as bees have been observed to rejectroses, and fix upon the wild fragrance of a neighbouring heath. " Whenever Johnson took pen in hand, the chances were, that what heproduced would belong to the composite order; the unstudied phraseswere reserved for his "talk;" and he wished his Letters to bepreserved. [1] The main value of these consists in the additionalillustrations they afford of his conduct in private life, and of hisopinions on the management of domestic affairs. The lack of literaryand public interest is admitted and excused: [Footnote 1: "Do you keep my letters? I am not of your opinion that Ishall not like to read them hereafter. "--_Letters_, vol. I. P. 295. ] "None but domestic and familiar events can be expected from a privatecorrespondence; no reflexions but such as they excite can be foundthere; yet whoever turns away disgusted by the insipidity with whichthis, and I suppose every correspondence must naturally and almostnecessarily begin--will here be likely to lose some genuine pleasure, and some useful knowledge of what our heroic Milton was himselfcontented to respect, as "'That which before thee lies in daily life. ' "And should I be charged with obtruding trifles on the public, Imight reply, that the meanest animals preserved in amber become ofvalue to those who form collections of natural history; that the fishfound in Monte Bolca serve as proofs of sacred writ; and that thecart-wheel stuck in the rock of Tivoli, is now found useful incomputing the rotation of the earth. " In "Thraliana" she thus refers to the reception of the book: "The Letters are out. They were published on Saturday, 8th of March. Cadell printed 2, 000 copies, and says 1, 100 are already sold. Myletter to Jack Rice on his marriage (Vol. I. P. 96), seems theuniversal favourite. The book is well spoken of on the whole; yetCadell murmurs. I cannot make out why. " This entry is not dated; the next is dated March 27th, 1788. "This collection, " says Boswell, "as a proof of the high estimationset on any thing that came from his pen, was sold by that lady forthe sum of 500_l_. " She has written on the margin: "How spiteful. " Boswell states that "Horace Walpole thought Johnson a more amiablecharacter after reading his Letters to Mrs. Thrale, but never was oneof the true admirers of that great man. " Madame D'Arblay came to anopposite conclusion; in her Diary, January 9th, 1788, she writes: "To-day Mrs. Schwellenberg did me a real favour, and with real goodnature, for she sent me the letters of my poor lost friends, Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale, which she knew me to be almost pining toprocure. The book belongs to the Bishop of Carlisle, who lent it toMr. Turbulent, from whom it was again lent to the Queen, and sopassed on to Mrs. S. It is still unpublished. With what a sadnesshave I been reading! What scenes has it revived! What regretsrenewed! These letters have not been more improperly published in thewhole than they are injudiciously displayed in their several parts. She has given all, every word, and thinks that perhaps a justice toDr. Johnson, which, in fact, is the greatest injury to his memory. "The few she has selected of her own do her, indeed, much credit; shehas discarded all that were trivial and merely local, and given onlysuch as contain something instructive, amusing, or ingenious. " She admits only four of Johnson's letters to be worthy of his exaltedpowers: one upon Death, in considering its approach, as we aresurrounded, or not, by mourners; another upon the sudden death ofMrs. Thrale's only son. Her chief motive for "almost pining" for thebook, steeped as she was in egotism, may be guessed: "Our name once occurred; how I started at its sight! 'Tis to mentionthe party that planned the first visit to our house. " She says she had so many attacks upon "her (Mrs. Piozzi's) subject, "that at last she fairly begged quarter. Yet nothing she could saycould put a stop to, "How can you defend her in this? how can youjustify her in that? &c. &c. " "Alas! that I cannot defend her isprecisely the reason I can so ill bear to speak of her. Howdifferently and how sweetly has the Queen conducted herself upon thisoccasion. Eager to see the Letters, she began reading them with theutmost avidity. A natural curiosity arose to be informed of severalnames and several particulars, which she knew I could satisfy; yetwhen she perceived how tender a string she touched, she soonsuppressed her inquiries, or only made them with so much gentlenesstowards the parties mentioned, that I could not be distressed in myanswers; and even in a short time I found her questions made in sofavourable a disposition, that I began secretly to rejoice in them, as the means by which I reaped opportunity of clearing several pointsthat had been darkened by calumny, and of softening others that hadbeen viewed wholly through false lights. To lessen disapprobation ofa person, and so precious to me in the opinion of another, sorespectable both in rank and virtue, was to me a most soothing task, &c. " This is precisely what many will take the liberty to doubt; or whydid she shrink from it, or why did she not afford to others theexplanations which proved so successful with the Queen? The day following (Jan. 10th), her feelings were so worked upon bythe harsh aspersions on her friend, that she was forced, she tellsus, abruptly to quit the room; leaving not her own (like Sir PeterTeazle) but her friend's character behind her: "I returned when I could, and the subject was over. When all weregone, Mrs. Schwellenberg said, 'I have told it Mr. Fisher, that hedrove you out from the room, and he says he won't do it no more. ' "She told me next, that in the second volume I also, was mentioned. Where she may have heard this I cannot gather, but it has given me asickness at heart, inexpressible. It is not that I expect severity;for at the time of that correspondence, at all times indeed previousto the marriage with Piozzi, if Mrs. Thrale loved not F. B. , whereshall we find faith in words, or give credit to actions. But herpresent resentment, however unjustly incurred, of my constantdisapprobation of her conduct, may prompt some note, or other mark, to point out her change of sentiment. But let me try to avoid suchpainful expectations; at least not to dwell upon them. O, little doesshe know how tenderly at this moment I could run into her arms, sooften opened to receive me with a cordiality I believed inalienable. And it was sincere then, I am satisfied; pride, resentment ofdisapprobation, and consciousness if unjustifiable proceedings--thesehave now changed her; but if we met, and she saw and believed myfaithful regard, how would she again feel all her own return! Well, what a dream I am making!" The ingrained worldliness of the diarist is ill-concealed by the maskof sensibility. The correspondence that passed between the ladiesduring their temporary rupture (_antè_, p. 230) shews that there wasnothing to prevent her from flying into her friend's arms, could shehave made up her mind to be seen on open terms of affectionateintimacy with one who was repudiated by the Court. In a subsequentconversation with which the Queen honoured her on the subject, shedid her best to impress her Majesty with the belief that Mrs. Piozzi's conduct had rendered it impossible for her former friends toallude to her without regret, and she ended by thanking her royalmistress for her forbearance. "Indeed, " cried she, with eyes strongly expressive of the complacencywith which she heard me, "I have always spoken as little as possibleupon this affair. I remember but twice that I have named it: once Isaid to the Bishop of Carlisle that I thought most of these lettershad better have been spared the printing; and once to Mr. Langton, atthe drawing-room I said, 'Your friend Dr. Johnson, Sir, has had manyfriends busy to publish his books, and his memoirs, and hismeditations, and his thoughts; but I think he wanted one friendmore. ' 'What for, Ma'am?' cried he. 'A friend to suppress them, ' Ianswered. And, indeed, this is all I ever said about the business. " Hannah More's opinion of the Letters is thus expressed in herMemoirs: "They are such as ought to have been written but ought not to havebeen printed: a few of them are very good: sometimes he is moral, andsometimes he is kind. The imprudence of editors and executors is anadditional reason why men of parts should be afraid to die. [1] Burkesaid to me the other day, in allusion to the innumerable lives, anecdotes, remains, &c. Of this great man, 'How many maggots havecrawled out of that great body!'" [Footnote 1: In reference to the late Lord Campbell's "Lives of theLord Chancellors, " it was remarked, that, as regards persons who hadattained the dignity, the threatened continuation of the work hadadded a new pang to death. I am assured by the Ex-Chancellor to whomI attributed this joke, that it was made by Sir Charles Wetherell ata dinner at Lincoln's-Inn. ] Miss Seward writes to Mrs. Knowles, April, 1788: "And now what say you to the last publication of your sister wit, Mrs. Piozzi? It is well that she has had the good nature to extractalmost all the corrosive particles from the old growler's letters. Bymeans of her benevolent chemistry, these effusions of that expansivebut gloomy spirit taste more oily and sweet than one could haveimagined possible. " The letters contained two or three passages relating to Baretti, which exasperated him to the highest pitch. One was in a letter fromJohnson, dated July 15th, 1775: "The doctor says, that if Mr. Thrale comes so near as Derby withoutseeing us, it will be a sorry trick. I wish, for my part, that he mayreturn soon, and rescue the fair captives from the tyranny of B----i. Poor B----i! do not quarrel with him; to neglect him a little will besufficient. He means only to be frank, and manly, and independent, and perhaps, as you say, a little wise. To be frank, he thinks is tobe cynical, and to be independent, is to be rude. Forgive him, dearest lady, the rather, because of his misbehaviour, I am afraid helearned part of me. I hope to set him hereafter a better example. " The most galling was in a letter of hers to Dr. Johnson: "How does Dr. Taylor do? He was very kind I remember when mythunder-storm came first on, so was Count Manucci, so was Mrs. Montagu, so was everybody. The world is not guilty of much generalharshness, nor inclined I believe to increase pain which they do notperceive to be deserved. --Baretti alone tried to irritate a wound sovery deeply inflicted, and he will find few to approve his cruelty. Your friendship is our best cordial; continue it to us, dear Sir, andwrite very soon. " In the margin of the printed copy is written, "Cruel, cruel Baretti. "He had twitted her, whilst mourning over a dead child, with havingkilled it by administering a quack medicine instead of attending tothe physician's prescriptions; a charge which he acknowledged andrepeated in print. He published three successive papers in "TheEuropean Magazine" for 1788, assailing her with the coarsestribaldry. "I have just read for the first time, " writes Miss Sewardin June, 1788, "the base, ungentleman-like, unmanly abuse of Mrs. Piozzi by that Italian assassin, Baretti. The whole literary worldshould unite in publicly reprobating such venomed and foul-mouthedrailing. " He died soon afterwards, May 5th, 1789, and the notice ofhim in the "Gentleman's Magazine" begins: "Mrs. Piozzi has reason torejoice in the death of Mr. Baretti, for he had a very long memoryand malice to relate all he knew. " And a good deal that he did notknow, into the bargain; as when he prints a pretended conversationbetween Mr. And Mrs. Thrale about Piozzi, which he afterwards admitsto be a gratuitous invention and rhetorical figure of his own, forconveying what is a foolish falsehood on the face of it. Baretti's death is thus noticed in "Thraliana, " 8th May, 1789: "Baretti is dead. Poor Baretti! I am sincerely sorry for him, and asZanga says, 'If I lament thee, sure thy worth was great. ' He was amanly character, at worst, and died, as he lived, less like aChristian than a philosopher, refusing all spiritual or corporealassistance, both which he considered useless to him, and perhaps theywere so. He paid his debts, called in some single acquaintance, toldhim he was dying, and drove away that _Panada_ conversation whichfriends think proper to administer at sick-bedsides with becomingsteadiness, bid him write his brothers word that he was dead, andgently desired a woman who waited to leave him quite alone. Nointerested attendants watching for ill-deserved legacies, no harpyrelatives clung round the couch of Baretti. He died! "'And art thou dead? so is my enmity: I war not with the dead. ' "Baretti's papers--manuscripts I mean--have been all burnt by hisexecutors without examination, they tell me. So great was hischaracter as a mischief-maker, that Vincent and Fendall saw no nearerway to safety than that hasty and compendious one. Many people think'tis a good thing for me, but as I never trusted the man, I seelittle harm he could have done me. " In the fury of his onslaught Baretti forgot that he was strengtheningher case against Johnson, of whom he says: "His austere reprimand, and unrestrained upbraidings, when face to face with her, alwaysdelighted Mr. Thrale and were approved even by her children. 'Harry, 'said his father to her son, 'are you listening to what the doctor andmamma are talking about?' 'Yes, papa. ' And quoth Mr. Thrale, 'Whatare they saying?' 'They are disputing, and mamma has just such achance with Dr. Johnson as Presto (a little dog) would have were heto fight Dash (a big one). '" He adds that she left the room in a huffto the amusement of the party. If scenes like this were frequent, nowonder the "yoke" became unendurable. Baretti was obliged to admit that, when Johnson died, they were noton speaking terms. His explanation is that Johnson irritated him byan allusion to his being beaten by Omai, the Sandwich Islander, atchess. Mrs. Piozzi's marginal note on Omai is: "When Omai played atchess and at backgammon with Baretti, everybody admired at thesavage's good breeding and at the European's impatient spirit. " Amongst her papers was the following sketch of his character, writtenfor "The World" newspaper. "_Mr. Conductor_. --Let not the death of Baretti pass unnoticed by'The World, ' seeing that Baretti was a wit if not a scholar: and hadfor five-and-thirty years at least lived in a foreign country, whoselanguage he so made himself completely master of, that he couldsatirise its inhabitants in their own tongue, better than they knewhow to defend themselves; and often pleased, without ever praisingman or woman in book or conversation. Long supported by the privatebounty of friends, he rather delighted to insult than flatter; he atlength obtained competence from a public he esteemed not: and died, refusing that assistance he considered as useless--leaving no debts(but those of gratitude) undischarged; and expressing neither regretof the past, nor fear of the future, I believe. Strong in hisprejudices, haughty and independent in his spirit, cruel in hisanger, --even when unprovoked; vindictive to excess, if he throughmisconception supposed himself even slightly injured, pertinacious inhis attacks, invincible in his aversions: the description of Menelausin 'Homer's Iliad, ' as rendered by Pope, exactly suits the characterof Baretti: "'So burns the vengeful Hornet, soul all o'er, Repuls'd in vain, and thirsty still for gore; Bold son of air and heat on angry wings, Untamed, untired, he turns, attacks, and stings. '" In reference to this article, she remarks in "Thraliana": "There seems to be a language now appropriated to the newspapers, anda very wretched and unmeaning language it is. Yet a certain set ofexpressions are so necessary to please the diurnal readers, that whenJohnson and I drew up an advertisement for charity once, I rememberthe people altered our expressions and substituted their own, withgood effect too. The other day I sent a Character of Baretti to 'TheWorld, ' and read it two mornings after more altered than improved inmy mind: but no matter: they will talk of _wielding_ a language, andof _barbarous_ infamy, --sad stuff, to be sure, but such is the tasteof the times. They altered even my quotation from Pope; but that wastoo impudent. " The comparison of Baretti to the hornet was truer than sheanticipated: _animamque in vulnere ponit_. Internal evidence leadsalmost irresistibly to the conclusion that he was the author orprompter of "The _Sentimental_ Mother: a Comedy in Five Acts. TheLegacy of an Old Friend, and his 'Last Moral Lesson' to Mrs. HesterLynch Thrale, now Mrs. Hester Lynch Piozzi. London: Printed for JamesRidgeway, York Street, St. James's Square, 1789. Price threeshillings. " The principal _dramatis personæ_ are Mr. Timothy Tunskull(Thrale), Lady Fantasma Tunskull, two Misses Tunskull, and SignorSqualici. Lady Fantasma is vain, affected, silly, and amorous to excess. Notsatisfied with Squalici as her established gallant, she makescompromising advances to her daughter's lover on his way to a_tête-à-téte_ with the young lady, who takes her wonted place on hisknee with his arm round her waist. Squalici is also a domestic spy, and in league with the mother to cheat the daughters of theirpatrimony. Mr. Tunskull is a respectable and complacent nonentity. The dialogue is seasoned with the same malicious insinuations whichmark Baretti's letters in the "European Magazine;" without the savingclause with which shame or fear induced him to qualify them, namely, that no breach of chastity was suspected or believed. It is difficultto imagine who else would have thought of reverting to Thrale'sestablishment eight years after it had been broken up by death; andin one of his papers in the "European Magazine, " he holds out athreat that she might find herself the subject of a play: "Who knowsbut some one of our modern dramatic geniusses may hereafter entertainthe public with a laughable comedy in five long acts, entitled, withsingular propriety, 'the _Scientific_ Mother'?" Mrs. Piozzi had some-how contracted a belief, to which she alludesmore than once with unfeigned alarm, that Mr. Samuel Lysons hadformed a collection of all the libels and caricatures of which shewas the subject on the occasion of her marriage. His collections havebeen carefully examined, and the sole semblance of warrant for herfears is an album or scrap-book containing numerous extracts from thereviews and newspapers, relating to her books. The only caricaturepreserved in it is the celebrated one by Sayers entitled "Johnson'sGhost. " The ghost, a flattering likeness of the doctor, addresses apretty woman seated at a writing table: "When Streatham spread its pleasant board, I opened learning's valued hoard, And as I feasted, prosed. Good things I said, good things I eat, I gave you knowledge for your meat, And thought th' account was closed. "If obligations still I owed, You sold each item to the crowd, I suffered by the tale. For God's sake, Madam, let me rest, No longer vex your _quondam_ guest, I'll pay you for your ale. " When a prize was offered for the best address on the rebuilding ofDrury Lane, Sheridan proposed an additional reward for one without aphoenix. Equally acceptable for its rarity would be a squib on Mrs. Piozzi without a reference to the brewery. Her manuscript notes on the two volumes of Letters are numerous andimportant, comprising some curious fragments of autobiography, written on separate sheets of paper and pasted into the volumesopposite to the passages which they expand or explain. They wouldcreate an inconvenient break in the narrative if introduced here, andthey are reserved for a separate section. Her next literary labour is thus mentioned in "Thraliana": "While Piozzi was gone to London I worked at my Travel Book, andwrote it in two months complete--but 'tis all to correct and copyover again. While my husband was away I wrote him these lines: hestaid just a fortnight: "I think I've worked exceeding hard To finish five score pages. I write you this upon a card, In hopes you'll pay my wages. The servants all get drunk or mad, This heat their blood enrages, But your return will make me glad, -- That hope one pain assuages. "To shew more kindness, we defy All nations and all ages, And quite prefer your company To all the seven sages. Then hasten home, oh, haste away! And lengthen not your stages; We then will sing, and dance and play, And quit awhile our cages. " She had now taken rank as a popular writer, and thought herselfentitled to use corresponding language to her publisher: "MR. CADELL, --Sir, this is a letter of business. I have finished thebook of observations and reflections made in the course of my journeythro' France, Italy, and Germany, and if you have a mind to purchasethe MS. I make you the first offer of it. Here, if complaints had anyconnection with business, I would invent a thousand, and they shouldbe very kind ones too; but it is better to tell you the size andprice of the book. My calculations bring it to a thousand pages ofletter-press like Dr. Moore's; or you might print it in three smallvolumes, to go with the 'Anecdotes. ' Be that as it will, the price, at a word (as the advertisers say of their horse), is 500 guineas andtwelve copies to give away, though I will not, like them, warrant itfree from blemishes. No creature has looked over the papers but LordHuntingdon, and he likes them exceedingly. Direct your answer here, if you write immediately; if not, send the letter under cover to Mrs. Lewis, London Street, Reading, Berks; and believe me, dear Sir, yourfaithful humble servant, "H. L. PIOZZI. "Bennet Street, Bath, Friday, Nov. 14th, 1788. " Whether these terms were accepted, does not appear; but in Dec. 1789she published (Cadell and Strahan) "Observations and Reflections madein the course of a Journey through France, Italy, and Germany, " intwo volumes octavo of about 400 pages each. As happened to almosteverything she did or wrote, this book, which she calls the"Travel-book, " was by turns assailed with inveterate hostility andpraised with animated zeal. It would seem that sustained calumny hadseasoned her against the malevolence of criticism. On the passage inJohnson's letter to T. Warton, "I am little afraid for myself, " hercomment is: "That is just what I feel when insulted, not aboutliterary though, but social quarrels. The others are not worth athought. " In "Thraliana, " Dec. 30th, 1789, she writes: "I think myObservations and Reflexions in Italy, &c. , have been, upon the whole, exceedingly well liked, and much read. " Walpole writes to Mrs. Carter, June 13th, 1789: "I do not mean to misemploy much of your time, which I know is alwayspassed in good works, and usefully. You have, therefore, probably notlooked into Piozzi's Travels. I, who have been almost six weeks lyingon a couch, have gone through them. It was said that Addison mighthave written his without going out of England. By the excessivevulgarisms so plentiful in these volumes, one might suppose thewriter had never stirred out of the parish of St. Giles. Her Latin, French, and Italian, too, are so miserably spelt, that she had betterhave studied her own language before she floundered into othertongues. Her friends plead that she piques herself on writing as shetalks: methinks, then, she should talk as she would write. There aremany indiscretions too in her work of which she will perhaps be toldthough Baretti is dead. " Miss Seward, much to her credit, repeated to Mrs. Piozzi both thepraise and the blame she had expressed to others. On December 21st, 1789, she writes: "Suffer me now to speak to you of your highly ingenious, instructive, and entertaining publication; yet shall it be with the sincerity offriendship, rather than with the flourish of compliment. No work ofthe sort I ever read possesses, in an equal degree, the power ofplacing the reader in the scenes and amongst the people it describes. Wit, knowledge, and imagination illuminate its pages--but theinfinite inequality of the style!--Permit me to acknowledge to youwhat I have acknowledged to others, that it excites my exhaustlesswonder, that Mrs. Piozzi, the child of genius, the pupil of Johnson, should pollute, with the vulgarisms of unpolished conversation, heranimated pages!--that, while she frequently displays her power ofcommanding the most chaste and beautiful style imaginable, she shouldgenerally use those inelegant, those strange _dids_, and _does_, and_thoughs_, and _toos_, which produce jerking angles, and stop-shortabruptness, fatal at once to the grace and ease of thesentence;--which are, in language, what the rusty black silkhandkerchief and the brass ring are upon the beautiful form of theItalian countess she mentions, arrayed in embroidery, and blazing injewels. " Mrs. Piozzi's theory was that books should he written in the samecolloquial and idiomatic language which is employed by cultivatedpersons in conversation, "Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar;"and vulgar she certainly was not, although she sometimes indulged herfondness for familiarity too far. The period was unluckily chosen forcarrying such a theory into practice; for Johnson's authority haddiscountenanced idiomatic writing, whilst many phrases and forms ofspeech, which would not be endured now, were tolerated in politesociety. The laws of spelling, too, were unfixed or vague, and those ofpronunciation, which more or less affect spelling, still more so. "When, " said Johnson, "I published the plan of my dictionary, LordChesterfield told me that the word _great_ should be pronounced so asto rhyme to _state_; and Sir William Yonge sent me word that itshould be pronounced so as to rhyme to _seat_, and that none but anIrishman would pronounce it _grait_. Now here were two men of thehighest rank, one the best speaker in the House of Lords, the otherthe best speaker in the House of Commons, differing entirely. " Mrs. Piozzi has written on the margin:--"Sir William was in the right. "Two well-known couplets of Pope imply similar changes:-- "Dreading e'en fools, by flatterers besieged, And so obliging that he ne'er obliged. " * * * * * "Here thou, great Anna, whom three realms obey, Dost sometimes counsel take, and sometimes tea. " Within living memory, elderly people of quality, both in writing andconversation, stuck to Lunnun, Brummagem, and Cheyny (China). CharlesFox would not give up "Bour_dux_. " Johnson pronounced "heard"_heerd_. In 1800 "flirtation" was deemed a vulgar word. [1] Lord Byronwrote _redde_ (for _read_, in the past tense), and Lord Dudleydeclined being helped to apple _tart_. When, therefore, we find Mrs. Piozzi using words or idioms rejected by modern taste orfastidiousness, we must not be too ready to accuse her of ignoranceor vulgarity. I have commonly retained her original syntax, and herspelling, which frequently varies within a page. [Footnote 1: "Those abstractions of different pairs from the rest ofthe society, which I must call 'flirtation, ' spite of the vulgarityof the term. "--_Journal kept during a Visit to Germany_ in 1799 and1800. Edited by the Dean of Westminster (not published), p. 38. ] Two days afterwards, Walpole returns to the charge in a letter toMiss Berry, which is alone sufficient to prove the worthlessness ofhis literary judgments:-- "Read 'Sindbad the Sailor's Voyages, ' and you will be sick ofÆneas's. What woful invention were the nasty poultry that dunged onhis dinner, and ships on fire turned into Nereids! A barnmetamorphosed into a cascade in a pantomime is full as sublime aneffort of genius. .. . I do not think the Sultaness's narratives verynatural or very probable, but there is a wildness in them thatcaptivates. However, if you could wade through two octavos of DamePiozzi's _though's_ and _so's_ and _I trows_, and cannot listen toseven volumes of Scheherezade's narratives, I will sue for a divorcein foro Parnassi, and Boccalini shall be my proctor. " A single couplet of Gifford's was more damaging than all Walpole'spetulance: "See Thrale's grey widow with a satchel roam, And bring in pomp laborious nothings home. "[1] [Footnote 1: "She, one evening, asked me abruptly if I did notremember the scurrilous lines in which she had been depicted byGifford in his 'Baviad and Moeviad. ' And, not waiting for my answer, for I was indeed too much embarrassed to give one quickly, sherecited the verses in question, and added, 'how do you think"Thrale's grey widow" revenged herself? I contrived to get myselfinvited to meet him at supper at a friend's house, (I think she saidin Pall Mall), soon after the publication of his poem, sate oppositeto him, saw that he was "perplexed in the extreme;" and smiling, proposed a glass of wine as a libation to our future good fellowship. Gifford was sufficiently a man of the world to understand me, andnothing could be more courteous and entertaining than he was while weremained together. '"--_Piozziana_. ] This condemnatory verse is every way unjust. The nothings, orsomethings, which form the staple of the book, are not laboured; andthey are presented without the semblance of pomp or pretension. ThePreface commences thus: "I was made to observe at Rome some vestiges of an ancient customvery proper in those days. It was the parading of the street by a setof people called Preciæ, who went some minutes before the FlamenDialis, to bid the inhabitants leave work or play, and attend whollyto the procession; but if ill-omens prevented the pageants frompassing, or if the occasion of the show was scarce deemed worthy itscelebration, these Precise stood a chance of being ill-treated by thespectators. A prefatory introduction to a work like this can hopelittle better usage from the public than they had. It proclaims theapproach of what has often passed by before; adorned most certainlywith greater splendour, perhaps conducted with greater regularity andskill. Yet will I not despair of giving at least a momentaryamusement to my countrymen in general; while their entertainmentshall serve as a vehicle for conveying expressions of particularkindness to those foreign individuals, whose tenderness softened thesorrows of absence, and who eagerly endeavoured by unmeritedattentions to supply the loss of their company, on whom nature andhabit had given me stronger claims. " The Preface concludes with the happy remark that--"the labours of thepress resemble those of the toilette: both should be attended to andfinished with care; but once completed, should take up no more of ourattention, unless we are disposed at evening to destroy all effect ofour morning's study. " It would be difficult to name a book of travels in which anecdotes, observations, and reflections are more agreeably mingled, or one fromwhich a clearer bird's-eye view of the external state of countriesvisited in rapid succession may be caught. I can only spare room fora few short extracts: "The contradictions one meets with every moment at Paris likewisestrike even a cursory observer, --a countess in a morning, her hairdressed, with diamonds too perhaps, a dirty black handkerchief abouther neck, and a flat silver ring on her finger, like our ale-wives; a_femme publique_, dressed avowedly for the purposes of alluring themen, with a not very small crucifix hanging at her bosom;--and theVirgin Mary's sign at an ale-house door, with these words, "'Je suis la mère de mon Dieu, Et la gardienne de ce lieu. '" "I have stolen a day to visit my old acquaintance the English AustinNuns at the Foffèe, and found the whole community alive and cheerful;they are many of them agreeable women, and having seen Dr. Johnsonwith me when I was last abroad, inquired much for him: Mrs, Fermor, the Prioress, niece to Belinda in the Rape of the Lock, takingoccasion to tell me, comically enough, 'that she believed there wasbut little comfort to be found in a house that harboured _poets_; forthat she remembered Mr. Pope's praise made her aunt very troublesomeand conceited, while his numberless caprices would have employed tenservants to wait on him; and he gave one, ' (said she) 'no amends byhis talk neither, for he only sate dozing all day, when the sweetwine was out, and made his verses chiefly in the night; during whichseason he kept himself awake by drinking coffee, which it was one ofthe maids' business to make for him, and they took it by turns. '" At Milan she institutes a delicate inquiry: "The women are notbehind-hand in openness of confidence and comical sincerity. We haveall heard much of Italian cicisbeism; I had a mind to know howmatters really stood; and took the nearest way to information byasking a mighty beautiful and apparently artless young creature, _notnoble_, how that affair was managed, for there is no harm done _I amsure_, said I: 'Why no, ' replied she, 'no great _harm_ to be sure:except wearisome attentions from a man one cares little about; for myown part, ' continued she, 'I detest the custom, as I happen to lovemy husband excessively, and desire nobody's company in the world buthis. We are not _people of fashion_ though you know, nor at all rich;so how should we set fashions for our betters? They would only say, see how jealous he is! if _Mr. Such-a-one_ sat much with me at home, or went with me to the Corso; and I _must_ go with some gentleman youknow: and the men are such ungenerous creatures, and have such wayswith them: I want money often, and this _cavaliere servente_ pays thebills, and so the connection draws closer--_that's all_. ' And yourhusband! said I--'Oh, why he likes to see me well dressed; he is verygood-natured, and very charming; I love him to my heart. ' And yourconfessor! cried I. --'Oh! why he is _used to it_'--in the Milanesedialect--_è assuefaà. "_ "An English lady asked of an Italian What were the actual and official duties Of the strange thing, some women set a value on, Which hovers oft about some married beauties, Called 'cavalier servente, ' a Pygmalion Whose statues warm, I fear! too true 't is Beneath his art. The dame, press'd to disclose them, Said, Lady, I beseech you to _suppose them_. "[1] [Footnote 1: "Don Juan, " Canto ix. See also "Beppo, " verses 36, 37: "But Heaven preserve Old England from such courses! Or what becomes of damage and divorces?"] At Venice, the tone was somewhat different from what would beemployed now by the finest lady on the Grand Canal: "This firmly-fixed idea of subordination (which I once heard aVenetian say, he believed must exist in heaven from one angel toanother), accounts immediately for a little conversation which I amnow going to relate. "Here were two men taken up last week, one for murdering hisfellow-servant in cold blood, while the undefended creature had thelemonade tray in his hand going in to serve company; the other forbreaking the new lamps lately set up with intention to light thistown in the manner of the streets at Paris. 'I hope, ' said I, 'thatthey will hang the murderer. ' 'I rather hope, ' replied a verysensible lady who sate near me, 'that they will hang the person whobroke the lamps: for, ' added she, 'the first committed his crime onlyout of revenge, poor fellow!! because the other had got his mistressfrom him by treachery; but this creature has had the impudence tobreak our fine new lamps, all for the sake of spiting _theArch-duke!!_' The Arch-duke meantime hangs nobody at all; but setshis prisoners to work upon the roads, public buildings, &c. , wherethey labour in their chains; and where, strange to tell! they ofteninsult passengers who refuse them alms when asked as they go by; and, stranger still, they are not punished for it when they do. " . .. The lover sacrificing his reputation, his liberty, or his life, tosave the fair fame of his mistress, is not an unusual event infiction, whatever it may be in real life. Balzac, Charles de Bernard, and M. De Jarnac have each made a self-sacrifice of this kind thebasis of a romance. But neither of them has hit upon a better plotthan might be formed out of the following Venetian story: "Some years ago then, perhaps a hundred, one of the many spies whoply this town by night, ran to the state inquisitor, with informationthat such a nobleman (naming him) had connections with the Frenchambassador, and went privately to his house every night at a certainhour. The _messergrando_, as they call him, could not believe, norwould proceed, without better and stronger proof, against a man forwhom he had an intimate personal friendship, and on whose virtue hecounted with very particular reliance. Another spy was therefore set, and brought back the same intelligence, adding the description of hisdisguise: on which the worthy magistrate put on his mask and bauta, and went out himself; when his eyes confirming the report of hisinformants, and the reflection on his duty stifling all remorse, hesent publicly for _Foscarini_ in the morning, whom the populaceattended all weeping to his door. "Nothing but resolute denial of the crime alleged could however beforced from the firm-minded citizen, who, sensible of the discovery, prepared for that punishment he knew to be inevitable, and submittedto the fate his friend was obliged to inflict: no less than a dungeonfor life, that dungeon so horrible that I have heard Mr. Howard wasnot permitted to see it. "The people lamented, but their lamentations were vain. Themagistrate who condemned him never recovered the shock: but Foscariniwas heard of no more, till an old lady died forty years after inParis, whose last confession declared she was visited with amorousintentions by a nobleman of Venice whose name she never knew, whileshe resided there as companion to the ambassadress. So was Foscarinilost! so died he a martyr to love, and tenderness for femalereputation!" The Mendicanti was a Venetian institution which deserves to becommemorated for its singularity: "Apropos to singing;--we were this evening carried to a well-knownconservatory called the Mendicanti, who performed an oratorio in thechurch with great, and I dare say deserved applause. It was difficultfor me to persuade myself that all the performers were women, till, watching carefully, our eyes convinced us, as they were but slightlygrated. The sight of girls, however, handling the double bass, andblowing into the bassoon, did not much please _me_; and thedeep-toned voice of her who sung the part of Saul seemed an oddunnatural thing enough. "Well! these pretty sirens were delighted to seize upon us, andpressed our visit to their parlour with a sweetness that I know notwho would have resisted. We had no such intent; and amply did theirperformance repay my curiosity for visiting Venetian beauties, sojustly celebrated for their seducing manners and soft address. Theyaccompanied their voices with the forte-piano, and sung a thousandbuffo songs, with all that gay voluptuousness for which their countryis renowned. "The school, however, is running to ruin apace; and perhaps theconduct of the married women here may contribute to make such_conservatorios_ useless and neglected. When the Duchess of Montespanasked the famous Louison D'Arquien, by way of insult, as she pressedtoo near her, '_Comment alloit le metier_?' '_Depuis que les damess'en mèlent_, ' (replied the courtesan with no improper spirit, ) '_ilne vaut plus rien_. '" Describing Florence, she says:-- "Sir Horace Mann is sick and old; but there are conversations at hishouse of a Saturday evening, and sometimes a dinner, to which we havebeen almost always asked. " So much for Walpole's assertion that "she had broken with his Horace, because he could not invite her husband with the Italian nobility. "She held her own, if she did not take the lead, in whatever societyshe happened to be thrown, and no one could have objected to Piozziwithout breaking with her. In point of fact, no one did object tohim. One of her notes on Naples is: "Well, well! if the Neapolitans do bury Christians like dogs, theymake some singular compensations we will confess, by nursing dogslike Christians. A very veracious man informed me yester morning, that his poor wife was half broken-hearted at hearing such aCountess's dog was run over; 'for, ' said he, 'having suckled thepretty creature herself, she loved it like one of her children. ' Ibid him repeat the circumstance, that no mistake might be made: hedid so; but seeing me look shocked, or ashamed, or something he didnot like, --'Why, Madam, ' said the fellow, 'it is a common thingenough for ordinary men's wives to suckle the lap-dogs of ladies ofquality:' adding, that they were paid for their milk, and he saw noharm in gratifying one's _superiors_. As I was disposed to seenothing _but_ harm in disputing with such a competitor, ourconference finished soon; but the fact is certain. " On the margin she has written: "Mrs. Greathead could scarcely be made to credit so hideous a fact, till I showed her the portrait (at a broker's shop) of a woman_suckling a cat_. " Cornelia Knight says: "Mr. And Mrs. Piozzi passed the winter atNaples and gave little concerts. He played with great taste on thepianoforte, and used to carry about a miniature one in his carriage. " Whilst discussing the propriety of complying with the customs of thecountry, she relates: "Poor Dr. Goldsmith said once--'I would advise every young fellowsetting out in life _to love gravy_:'--and added, that he hadformerly seen a glutton's eldest nephew disinherited, because hisuncle never could persuade him to say he liked gravy. " Mr. Forster thinks that the concluding anecdote conveys a falseimpression of one "Who wrote like an angel, but talked like poor Poll. " "Mrs. Piozzi, in her travels, quite solemnly sets forth that poor Dr. Goldsmith said once, 'I would advise every young fellow setting forthin life to love gravy, ' alleging for it the serious reason that 'hehad formerly seen a glutton's eldest nephew disinherited because hisuncle never could persuade him to say he liked gravy. ' Imagine thedullness that would convert a jocose saying of this kind into anunconscious utterance of grave absurdity. "[1] In his index may beread: "Mrs. Piozzi's absurd instance of Goldsmith's absurdity. " Mrs. Piozzi does not quote the saying as an instance of absurdity; nor setit forth solemnly. She repeats it, as an illustration of herargument, in the same semi-serious spirit in which it was originallyhazarded. Sydney Smith took a different view of this grave gravyquestion. On a young lady's declining gravy, he exclaimed: "I havebeen looking all my life for a person who, on principle, rejectedgravy: let us vow eternal friendship. " [Footnote 1: Life of Goldsmith, vol. Ii. P. 205. Mr. Forster allowsher the credit of discovering the lurking irony in Goldsmith's verseson Cumberland, vol. Ii. P. 203. ] The "British Synonymy" appeared in 1794. It was thus assailed byGifford: "Though 'no one better knows his own house' than I the vanity of thiswoman; yet the idea of her undertaking such a work had never enteredmy head; and I was thunderstruck when I first saw it announced. Toexecute it with any tolerable degree of success, required a rarecombination of talents, among the least of which may be numberedneatness of style, acuteness of perception, and a more than commonaccuracy of discrimination; and Mrs. Piozzi brought to the task, ajargon long since become proverbial for its vulgarity, an utterincapability of defining a single term in the language, and just asmuch Latin from a child's Syntax, as sufficed to expose the ignoranceshe so anxiously labours to conceal. 'If such a one be fit to writeon Synonimes, speak. ' Pignotti himself laughs in his sleeve; and hiscountrymen, long since undeceived, prize the lady's talents at theirtrue worth, "Et centum Tales[1] curto centusse licentur. " [Footnote 1: Quere Thrales?--_Printer's Devil_. "] Other critics have been more lenient or more just. Enoughphilosophical knowledge and acuteness were discovered in the work tooriginate a rumour that she had retained some of the greatlexicographer's manuscripts, or derived a posthumous advantage, insome shape, from her former intimacy with him. In "Thraliana, "Denbigh, 2nd January, 1795, she writes: "My 'Synonimes' have been reviewed at last. The critics are all civilfor aught I see, and nearly just, except when they say that Johnsonleft some fragments of a work upon Synonymy: of which God knows Inever heard till now one syllable; never had he and I, in all thetime we lived together, any conversation upon the subject. " Even Walpole admits that it has some marked and peculiar merits, although its value consists rather in the illustrative matter, thanin the definitions and etymologies. Thus, in distinguishing between_lavish_, _profuse_ and _prodigal_, she relates: "Two gentlemen were walking leisurely up the Hay-Market some time inthe year 1749, lamenting the fate of the famous Cuzzona, an actresswho some time before had been in high vogue, but was then as theyheard in a very pitiable situation. 'Let us go and visit her, ' saidone of them, 'she lives but over the way. ' The other consented; andcalling at the door, they were shown up stairs, but found the fadedbeauty dull and spiritless, unable or unwilling to converse on anysubject. 'How's this?' cried one of her consolers, 'are you ill? oris it but low spirits chains your tongue so?'--'Neither, ' repliedshe: ''tis hunger I suppose. I ate nothing yesterday, and now 'tispast six o'clock, and not one penny have I in the world to buy me anyfood. '--'Come with us instantly to a tavern; we will treat you withthe best roast fowls and Port wine that London can produce. '--'But Iwill have neither my dinner nor my place of eating it prescribed to_me_, ' answered Cuzzona, in a sharper tone, 'else I need never havewanted. ' 'Forgive me, ' cries the friend; 'do your own way; but eat inthe name of God, and restore fainting nature. '--She thanked him then;and, calling to her a friendly wretch who inhabited the same theatreof misery, gave _him_ the guinea the visitor accompanied his lastwords with; 'and run with this money, ' said she, 'to such awine-merchant, ' (naming him); 'he is the only one keeps good Tokay byhim. 'Tis a guinea a bottle, mind you, ' to the boy; 'and bid thegentleman you buy it of give you a loaf into the bargain, --he won'trefuse. ' In half an hour or less the lad returned with the Tokay. 'But where, ' cries Cuzzona, 'is the loaf I spoke for?' 'The merchantwould give me no loaf, ' replies her messenger; 'he drove me from thedoor, and asked if I took him for a baker. ' 'Blockhead!' exclaimsshe; 'why I must have bread to my wine, you know, and I have not apenny to purchase any. Go beg me a loaf directly. ' The fellow returnsonce more with one in his hand and a halfpenny, telling 'em thegentleman threw him three, and laughed at his impudence. She gave herMercury the money, broke the bread into a wash-hand basin which stoodnear, poured the Tokay over it, and devoured the whole witheagerness. This was indeed a heroine in PROFUSION. Some activewell-wishers procured her a benefit after this; she gained about350_l_. , 'tis said, and laid out two hundred of the money instantlyin a _shell-cap_. They wore such things then. " When Savage got a guinea, he commonly spent it in a tavern at asitting; and referring to the memorable morning when the "Vicar ofWakefield" was produced, Johnson says: "I sent him (Goldsmith) aguinea, and promised to come to him directly. I accordingly went assoon as I was dressed, and found that his landlady had arrested himfor his rent. I perceived that he had already changed my guinea, andhad got a bottle of Madeira and a glass before him. " Mrs. Piozzicontinues: "But Doctor Johnson had always some story at hand to checkextravagant and wanton wastefulness. His improviso verses made on ayoung heir's coming of age are highly capable of restraining suchfolly, if it is to be restrained: they never yet were printed, Ibelieve. "'Long expected one-and-twenty, Lingering year, at length is flown; Pride and pleasure, pomp and plenty, Great Sir John, are now your own. Loosen'd from the minor's tether, Free to mortgage or to sell, Wild as wind, and light as feather, Bid the sons of thrift farewell. Call the Betseys, Kates, and Jennies, All the names that banish care; LAVISH of your grandsire's guineas, Show the spirit of an heir. All that prey on vice or folly Joy to see their quarry fly; There the gamester light and jolly, There the lender grave and sly. Wealth, my lad, was made to wander, Let it wander as it will; Call the jockey, call the pander, Bid them come and take their fill. When the bonny blade carouses, Pockets full, and spirits high-- What are acres? what are houses? Only dirt or wet or dry. Should the guardian friend or mother Tell the woes of wilful waste; Scorn their counsel, scorn their pother-- You can hang or drown at last. '" These verses were addressed to Thrale's nephew, Sir John Lade, inAugust, 1780. They bear a strong resemblance to some of Burns' in his"Beggar's Sonata, " written in 1785:-- "What is title, what is treasure, What is reputation's care; If we lead a life of pleasure, Can it matter how or where?" Boswell's "Life of Johnson" was published in May, 1791. It is thusmentioned in "Thraliana":-- "_May_, 1791. --Mr. Boswell's book is coming out, and the wits expectme to tremble: what will the fellow say? . .. That has not been saidalready. " No date, but previous to 25th May, 1791. --"I have been now laughingand crying by turns, for two days, over Boswell's book. That poor manshould have a _Bon Bouillon_ and be put to bed . .. He is quitelight-headed, yet madmen, drunkards, and fools tell truth, they say. .. And if Johnson was to me the back friend he has represented . .. Let it cure me of ever making friendship more with any human being. " "_25th May_, 1791. --The death of my son, so suddenly, so horriblyproduced before my eyes now suffering from the tears then shed . .. Soshockingly brought forward in Boswell's two guinea book, made me veryill this week, very ill indeed[1]; it would make the modern friendsall buy the work I fancy, did they but know how sick the _ancient_friends had it in their power to make me, but I had more wit thantell any of 'em. And what is the folly among all these fellows ofwishing we may know one another in the next world. .. . Comical enough!when we have only to expect deserved reproaches for breach ofconfidence and cruel usage. Sure, sure I hope, rancour and resentmentwill at least be put off in the last moments: . .. Sure, surely, weshall meet no more, except on the great day when each is to answer toother and before other. .. . After _that_ I hope to keep better companythan any of them. " [Footnote 1: The death of her son is not unkindly mentioned byBoswell. See p. 491, roy. Oct. Edit. But the imputations on herveracity rest exclusively on his prejudiced testimony. ] In 1801, Mrs. Piozzi published "Retrospection; or a Review of theMost Striking and Important Events, Characters, Situations, and theirConsequences, which the Last Eighteen Hundred Years have presented tothe View of Mankind. " It is in two volumes quarto, containing rathermore than 1000 pages. A fitting motto for it would have been _Deomnibus rebus et quibusdam aliis. _ The subject, or range of subjects, was beyond her grasp; and the best that can be said of the book isthat a good general impression of the stream of history, lighted upwith some striking traits of manners and character, may be obtainedfrom it. It would have required the united powers and acquirements ofRaleigh, Burke, Gibbon, and Voltaire to fill so vast a canvass withappropriate groups and figures; and she is more open to blame for theambitious conception of the work than for her comparative failure inthe execution. In 1799 she writes to Dr. Gray: "The truth is, myplans stretch too far for these times, or for my own age; but thewish, though scarce hope, of my heart, is to finish the work I amengaged in, get you to look it over for me, and print in March 1801. "She published it in January 1801, but it was not looked over by herlearned correspondent. Some slight misgiving is betrayed in thePreface: "If I should have made improper choice of facts, and if I should befound at length most to resemble Maister Fabyan of old, who writingthe life of Henry V. Lays heaviest stress on a new weathercock set-upon St. Paul's steeple during that eventful reign, my book must sharethe fate of his, and be like that forgotten: reminding before itsdeath perhaps a friend or two of a poor man (Macbean) living in latertimes, that Doctor Johnson used to tell us of; who being advised totake subscriptions for a new Geographical Dictionary, hastened toBolt Court and begged advice. There having listened carefully forhalf-an-hour, 'Ah, but dear Sir, ' exclaimed the admiring parasite, 'if I am to make all this eloquent ado about Athens and Rome, whereshall we find place, do you think, for Richmond, or Aix LaChapelle?'" Writing from Bath, December 15th, 1802, she says: "The 'Gentleman's Magazine' for July 1801 contained my answer to suchcritics as confined themselves to faults I could have helpedcommitting--had they been faults. Those who merely told disagreeabletruths concerning my person, or dress, or age, or such stuff, expected, of course, no reply. There are innumerable press errors inthe book, from my being obliged to print on new year's day--during aninsurrection of the printers. These the 'Critical Review' laid holdof with an acuteness sharpened by malignity. " Moore, who was staying at Bowood, sets down in his diary for April, 1823: "Lord L. In the evening, quoted a ridiculous passage from thePreface to Mrs. Piozzi's 'Retrospections, ' in which, anticipating theultimate perfection of the human race, she says she does not despairof the time arriving when 'Vice will take refuge in the arms ofimpossibility. ' Mentioned also an ode of hers to Posterity, beginning, 'Posterity, gregarious dame, ' the only meaning of whichmust be, a lady _chez qui_ numbers assemble--a lady at _home_. "[1] [Footnote 1: Memoirs, &c. , vol. Iv. P. 38. ] There is no such passage in the Preface to "Retrospection, " and theode is her "Ode to Society, " who is not improperly addressed as"gregarious. " "I repeated, " adds Moore, "what Jekyll told the other day ofBearcroft saying to Mrs. Piozzi, when Thrale, after she hadrepeatedly called him Mr. Beercraft: 'Beercraft is not my name, Madam; it may be your trade, but it is not my name. '" It may alwaysbe questioned whether this offensive description of repartee wasreally uttered at the time. But Bearcroft was capable of it. He beganhis cross-examination of Mr. Vansittart by--"With your leave, Sir, Iwill call you Mr. Van for shortness. " "As you please, Sir, and I willcall you Mr. Bear. " Towards the end of 1795, Mrs. Piozzi left Streatham for her seat inNorth Wales, where (1800 or 1801) she was visited by a youngnobleman, now an eminent statesman, distinguished by his love ofliterature and the fine arts, who has been good enough to recall andwrite down his impressions of her for me: "I did certainly know Madame Piozzi, but had no habits ofacquaintance with her, and she never lived in London to my knowledge. When in my youth I made a tour in Wales--times when all inns werebad, and all houses hospitable--I put up for a day at her house, Ithink in Denbighshire, the proper name of which was Bryn, and towhich, on the occasion of her marriage I was told, she had recentlyadded the name of Bella. I remember her taking me into her bed-roomto show me the floor covered with folios, quartos, and octavos, forconsultation, and indicating the labour she had gone through incompiling an immense volume she was then publishing, called'Retrospection. ' She was certainly what was called, and is stillcalled, blue, and that of a deep tint, but good humoured and lively, though affected; her husband, a quiet civil man, with his head fullof nothing but music. "I afterwards called on her at Bath, where she chiefly resided. Iremember it was at the time Madame de Staël's 'Delphine, ' and'Corinne, ' came out[1], and that we agreed in preferring 'Delphine, 'which nobody reads now, to 'Corinne, ' which most people read then, and a few do still. She rather avoided talking of Johnson. These aretrifles, not worth recording, but I have put them down that you mightnot think me neglectful of your wishes; but now _j'ai vuidé monsac_. " [Footnote 1: "Delphine" appeared in 1804; "Corinne, " in 1806. ] Her mode of passing her time when she had ceased writing books, withthe topics which interested her, will be best learned from herletters. Her vivacity never left her, and the elasticity of herspirits bore up against every kind of depression. A lady who met heron her way to Wynnstay in January, 1803, describes her as "skippingabout like a kid, quite a figure of fun, in a tiger skin shawl, linedwith scarlet, and _only_ five colours upon her head-dress--on the topof a flaxen wig a bandeau of blue velvet, a bit of tiger ribbon, awhite beaver hat and plume of black feathers--as gay as a lark. " In a letter, dated Jan. 1799, to a Welsh neighbour, Mrs. Piozzi says: "Mr. Piozzi has lost considerably in purse, by the cruel inroads ofthe French in Italy, and of all his family driven from their quiethomes, has at length with difficulty saved one little boy who is nowjust turned of five years old. We have got him here (Bath) since Iwrote last, and his uncle will take him to school next week; for asour John has nothing but his talents and education to depend upon, hemust be a scholar, and we will try hard to make him a very good one. "My poor little boy from Lombardy said as I walked him across ourmarket, 'These are sheeps' heads, are they not, aunt? I saw a basketof men's heads at Brescia. ' "As he was by a lucky chance baptized, in compliment to me, JohnSalusbury, five years ago, when happier days smiled on his family, hewill be known in England by no other, and it will be forgotten he isa foreigner. A lucky circumstance for one who is intended to work hisway among our islanders by talent, diligence, and education. " She thus mentions this event in "Thraliana, " January 17th, 1798: "Italy is ruined and England threatened. I have sent for one littleboy from among my husband's nephews. He was christened JohnSalusbury: he shall be naturalised, and then we will see whether hewill be more grateful and natural and comfortable than Miss Thraleshave been to the mother they have at length driven to desperation. " She could hardly have denied her husband the satisfaction of rescuinga single member of his family from the wreck; and they were bound toprovide handsomely for the child of their adoption. Whether shecarried the sentiment too far in giving him the entire estate (not alarge one) is a very different question; on which she entersfearlessly in one of the fragments of the Autobiography. In amarginal note on one of the printed letters in which Johnson writes:"Mrs. Davenant says you regain your health, "--she remarks: "Mrs. Davenant neither knew nor cared, as she wanted her brother HarryCotton to marry Lady Keith, and I offered my estate with her. MissThrale said she wished to have nothing to do either with my family ormy fortune. They were all cruel and all insulting. " Her fits ofirritation and despondency never lasted long. Her mode of bringing up her adopted nephew was more in accordancewith her ultimate liberality, than with her early intentions orprofessions of teaching him to "work his way among our islanders. "Instead of suffering him to travel to and from the University bycoach, she insisted on his travelling post; and she is said to haveremarked to the mother of a Welsh baronet, who was similarly anxiousfor the comfort and dignity of her heir, "Other people's children arebaked in coarse common pie dishes, ours in patty-pans. " She was misreported, or afterwards improved upon the thought; for, inJune 1810, she writes to Dr. Gray: "He is a boy of excellentprinciple. Education at a private school has an effect like bakingloaves in a tin. The bread is more insipid, but it comes out _clean_;and Mr. Gray laughed, when at breakfast this morning, our undercrustssuggested the comparison. " In the Conway Notes, she says: "Had we vexations enough? We had certainly many pleasures. The housein Wales was beautiful, and the Boy was beautiful too. Mr. Piozzisaid I had spoiled my own children and was spoiling his. My replywas, that I loved spoiling people, and hated any one I could notspoil. Am I not now trying to spoil dear Mr. Conway?" When she talks of spoiling, she must not be understood literally. In1817 she writes from Bath to Dr. Gray: "Sir John and Lady Salusbury staid with me six or seven weeks, andmade themselves most beloved among us. They are very good youngcreatures. .. . My children read your _Key_ to each other on Sundaynoons: the _Connection_ on Sunday nights. You remember me hoping andproposing to make dear Salusbury a gentleman, a Christian, and ascholar; and when one has succeeded in the first two wishes, there isno need to fret if the third does fail a _little_. Such is mysituation concerning my _adopted_, as you are accustomed to callhim. " Before she died she had the satisfaction of seeing him sheriff of hiscounty; and on carrying up an address, he was knighted and became SirJohn Salusbury Piozzi Salusbury. Miss Williams Wynn has preserved asomewhat apocryphal anecdote of his disinterestedness: "When I read her (Mrs. P. 's) lamentations over her poverty, I couldnot help believing that Sir J. Salusbury had proved ungrateful to hisbenefactress. For the honour of human nature I rejoice to find thisis not the case. When he made known to his aunt his wish to marry, she promised to make over to him the property of Brynbella. Evenbefore the marriage was concluded she had distressed herself by herlavish expenditure at Streatham. I saw by the letters that Gillow'sbill amounted to near 2, 400_l_. , and Mr. (the late Sir John) Williamstells me she had continually very large parties from London. Sir JohnSalusbury then came to her, offered to relinquish all her promisedgifts and the dearest wish of his heart, saying he should be mostgrateful to her if she would only give him a commission in the army, and let him seek his fortune. At the same time he added that he madethis offer because all was still in his power, but that from themoment he married, she must be aware that it would be no longer so, that he should not feel himself justified in bringing a wife intodistress of circumstances, nor in entailing poverty on childrenunborn. [1] She refused; he married; and she went on in her course ofextravagance. She had left herself a life income only, and large asit was, no tradesman would wait a reasonable time for payment; shewas nearly eighty; and they knew that at her death nothing would beleft to pay her debts, and so they seized the goods. " [Footnote 1: If the estate was settled in the usual manner, he wouldhave only a life estate; and I believe it was so settled. ] When Fielding, the novelist, rather boastingly avowed that he neverknew, and believed he never should know, the difference between ashilling and sixpence, he was told: "Yes, the time will come when youwill know it--when you have only eighteen pence left. " If the authorof "Tom Jones" could not be taught the value of money, we must not betoo hard on Mrs. Piozzi for not learning it, after lesson upon lessonin the hard school of "impecuniosity. " Whilst Piozzi lived, heraffairs were faithfully and carefully administered. Although theybuilt Brynbella, spent a good deal of money on Streatham, and livedhandsomely, they never wanted money. He had a moderate fortune, theproduce of his professional labours, and left it, neither impairednor materially increased, to his family. With peculiar referenceprobably to her habits of profuse expenditure, he used to say that"white monies were good for ladies, yellow for gentlemen. " He tookthe guineas under his especial charge, leaving only the silver toher. This was a matter of notoriety in the neighbourhood, and thetenants, to please her or humour the joke, sometimes brought bags ofshillings and sixpences in part payment of their rents. In the Conway Notes she says: "Our head-quarters were in Wales, where dear Piozzi repaired mychurch, built a new vault for my old ancestors, chose the place in itwhere he and I are to repose together. .. . He lived some twenty-fiveyears with me, however, but so punished with gout that we found Baththe best wintering-place for many, many seasons. --Mrs. Siddons' lastappearance there he witnessed, when she played Calista to Dimond'sLothario, in which he looked _so_ like Garrick, it shocked us _allthree_, I believe; for Garrick adored Mr. Piozzi, and Siddons hatedthe little great man to her heart. Poor Dimond! he was a well-bred, pleasing, worthy creature, and did the honours of his own house andtable with peculiar grace indeed. No likeness in private life ormanner, --none at all; no wit, no fun, no frolic humour had Mr. Dimond:--no grace, no dignity, no real unaffected elegance of mien orbehaviour had his predecessor, David, --whose partiality to myfastidious husband was for that reason never returned. Merriment, difficult for _him_ to comprehend, made no amends for the want ofthat which no one understood better, --so he hated all the wits butMurphy. " There is hardly a family of note or standing within visiting distanceof their place, that has not some tradition or reminiscence to relateconcerning them; and all agree in describing him as a worthy goodsort of man, obliging, inoffensive, kind to the poor, principallyremarkable for his devotion to music, and utterly unable to his dyingday to familiarise himself with the English language or manners. Itis told of him that being required to pay a turnpike toll near thehouse of a country neighbour whom he was on his way to visit, he tookit for granted that the toll went into his neighbour's pocket, andproposed setting up a gate near Brynbella with the view of levyingtoll in his turn. In September, 1800, she wrote from Brynbella to Dr. Gray: "Dear Mr. Piozzi, who takes men out of misery so far as his powerextends in this neighbourhood, feels flattered and encouraged by yourvery kind approbation. He has been getting rugs for the cottagers'beds to keep them warm this winter, while we are away, and they alltake me into their sleeping rooms when I visit them _now_, to showhow comfortably they live. As for the old hut you so justly abhorred, and so kindly noticed--it is knocked down and its coarse name too, Potlicko: we call it Cottage-o'-the-Park. Some recurrence to theoriginal derivation in soup season will not, however, be much amiss Isuppose. " "Amongst the company, " says Moore, "was Mrs. John Kemble. Shementioned an anecdote of Piozzi, who upon calling upon some old ladyof quality, was told by the servant, she was 'indifferent. ' 'Is sheindeed?' answered Piozzi, huffishly, 'then pray tell her I can be asindifferent as she;' and walked away. "[1] [Footnote 1: Moore's Memoirs, vol. Iv. P. 329. ] Till he was disabled by the gout, his principal occupation was hisviolin, and it was her delight to listen to him. She more than onceobserved to the vicar, "Such music is quite heavenly. " "I am indespair, " cried out the village fiddler, "I may now stick my fiddlein my thatched roof, for a greater performer is come to reside in theparish. " The existing superstition of the country is that his spirit, playing on his favourite instrument, still haunts one wing ofBrynbella. If he designed the building, his architectural taste doesnot merit the praises she lavishes on it. The exterior is notprepossessing; but there is a look of comfort about the house; theinterior is well arranged: the situation, which commands a fine andextensive view of the upper part of the valley of the Clywd, isadmirably chosen; the garden and grounds are well laid out; and thewalks through the woods on either side, especially one called theLovers' Walk, are remarkably picturesque. Altogether, Brynbella maybe fairly held to merit the appellation of a "pretty villa. " The nameimplies a compliment to Piozzi's country as well as to his taste; forshe meant it to typify the union between Wales and Italy in his andher own proper persons. She says in the Conway Notes: "Mr. Piozzi built the house for me, he said; my own old chateau, Bachygraig by name, tho' very curious, was wholly uninhabitable; andwe called the Italian villa he set up as mine in the Vale of Cluid, Brynbella, or the beautiful brow, making the name half Welsh and halfItalian, as _we_ were. " Dr. Burney, in a letter to his daughter, thus described the positionand feelings of the couple towards each other in 1808: "During my invalidity at Bath I had an unexpected visit from yourStreatham friend, of whom I had lost sight for more than ten years. She still looks very well, but is graver, and candour itself; thoughshe still says good things, and writes admirable notes and letters, Iam told, to my granddaughters C. And M. , of whom she is very fond. Weshook hands very cordially, and avoided any allusion to our longseparation and its cause. The _caro sposo_ still lives, but is suchan object from the gout, that the account of his sufferings made mepity him sincerely; he wished, she told me, 'to see his old andworthy friend, ' and _un beau matin_ I could not refuse compliancewith his wish. She nurses him with great affection and tenderness, never goes out or has company when he is in pain. " In the Conway Notes she says: "Piozzi's fine hand upon the organ and pianoforte deserted him. Gout, such as I never knew, fastened on his fingers, distorting them intoevery dreadful shape. .. . A little girl, shown to him as a musicalwonder of five years old, said, 'Pray, Sir, why are your fingerswrapped up in black silk so?' 'My dear, ' replied he, 'they are inmourning for my voice. ' 'Oh, me!' cries the child, '_is she dead?_'He sung an easy song, and the baby exclaimed, 'Ah, Sir! you are verynaughty--you tell fibs!' Poor dears! and both gone now!" "When life was gradually, but perceptibly, closing round him at Bath, in 1808, I asked him if he would wish to converse with a Romishpriest, --we had full opportunity there. 'By no means, ' said he. 'CallMr. Leman of the Crescent. ' We did so, --poor Bessy ran and fetchedhim. Mr. Piozzi received the blessed Sacrament at his hands; butrecovered sufficiently to go home and die in his own house. " He died of gout at Brynbella in March 1809, and was buried in a vaultconstructed by her desire in Dymerchion Church. There is a portraitof him (period and painter unknown) still preserved amongst thefamily portraits at Brynbella. It is that of a good-looking man ofabout forty, in a straight-cut brown coat with metal buttons, lacefrill and ruffles, and some leaves of music in his hand. There arealso two likenesses of Mrs. Piozzi: one a three-quarter length(kit-kat), taken apparently when she was about forty; the other aminiature of her at an advanced age. Both confirm her description ofherself as too strong-featured to be pretty. The hands in thethree-quarter length are gloved. Brynbella continued her headquarters till 1814, when she gave it upto Sir John Salusbury. From that period she resided principally atBath and Clifton, occasionally visiting Streatham or making summertrips to the seaside. That she and her eldest daughter should ever be again (if they everwere) on a perfect footing of confidence and affection, was a moralimpossibility. Estrangements are commonly durable in proportion tothe closeness of the tie that has been severed; and it is no morethan natural that each party, yearning for a reconciliation and notknowing that the wish is reciprocated, should persevere in castingthe blame of the prolonged coldness on the other. Occasional sarcasmsno more prove disregard or indifference, than Swift's "only a woman'shair" implies contempt for the sex. Miss Thrale's marriage with Lord Keith in 1808 is thus mentioned in"Thraliana": "The 'Thraliana' is coming to an end; so are the Thrales. The eldestis married now. Admiral Lord Keith the man; a _good_ man for ought Ihear: a _rich_ man for ought I am told: a _brave_ man we have alwaysheard: and a _wise_ man I trow by his choice. The name no new one, and excellent for a charade, _e. G_. "A Faery my first, who to fame makes pretence; My second a Rock, dear Britannia's defence; In my third when combined will too quickly be shown The Faery and Rock in our brave Elphin-stone. " Her way of life after Piozzi's death may be collected from theLetters, with the exception of one strange episode towards the end. When nearly eighty, she took a fancy for an actor named Conway, whocame out on the London boards in 1813, and had the honour of actingRomeo and Jaffier to the Juliet and Belvidera of Miss O'Neill (LadyBecher). He also acted with her in Dean Milman's fine play, "Fazio. "But it was his ill fate to reverse Churchill's famous lines: "Before such merits all objections fly, Pritchard's genteel, and Garrick's six feet high. " Conway was six feet high, and a very handsome man to boot; but hisadvantages were purely physical; not a spark of genius animated hisfine features and commanding figure, and he was battling for amoderate share of provincial celebrity, when Mrs. Piozzi fell in withhim at Bath. It has been rumoured in Flintshire that she wished tomarry him, and offered Sir John Salusbury a large sum in ready money(which she never possessed) to give up Brynbella (which he could notgive up), that she might settle it on the new object of heraffections. But none of the letters or documents that have fallen inmy way afford even plausibility to the rumour, and some of thetestamentary papers in which his name occurs, go far towardsdiscrediting the belief that her attachment ever went beyondadmiration and friendship expressed in exaggerated terms. [1] [Footnote 1: Since the appearance of the first edition of this work, it has been stated on the authority of a distinguished man of lettersthat Conway shewed the late Charles Mathews a letter from Mrs. Piozzi, offering marriage. --_New Monthly Magazine_ (edited by Mr. Harrison Ainsworth) for April, 1861. ] Conway threw himself overboard and was drowned in a voyage from NewYork to Charleston in 1828. His effects were sold at New York, andamongst them a copy of the folio edition of Young's "Night Thoughts, "in which he had made a note of its having been presented to him byhis "dearly attached friend, the celebrated Mrs. Piozzi. " In thepreface to "Love Letters of Mrs. Piozzi, Written when she was Eighty, to William Augustus Conway, " published in London in 1842, it isstated that the originals, seven in number, were purchased by anAmerican "lady, " who permitted a "gentleman" to take copies and usethem as he might think fit. What this "gentleman" thought fit, was topublish them with a catchpenny title and an alleged extract by way ofmotto to sanction it. The genuineness of the letters is doubtful, andthe interpolation of three or four sentences would alter their entiretenor. But taken as they stand, their language is not warmer than anold woman of vivid fancy and sensibility might have deemed warrantedby her age. "Tell Mr. Johnson I love him exceedingly, " is the missiongiven by the old Countess of Eglinton to Boswell in 1778. _L'age n'apoint de sexe_; and no one thought the worse of Madame Du Deffand forthe impassioned tone in which she addressed Horace Walpole, whosedread of ridicule induced him to make a most ungrateful return to herfondness. [1] Years before the formation of this acquaintance, Mrs. Piozzi had acquired the difficult art of growing old; _je saisvieillir_: she dwells frequently but naturally on her age: shecontemplates the approach of death with firmness and withoutself-deception: and her elasticity of spirit never for a momentsuggests the image of an antiquated coquette. Of the seven letters inquestion, the one cited as most compromising is the sixth, in whichConway is exhorted to bear patiently a rebuff he had just receivedfrom some younger beauty: [Footnote 1: "The old woman's fancy for Mr. Conway represents arelation of warm friendship that is of every-day occurrence betweenyouth and age that is not crabbed. "--_The Examiner_, Feb. 16, 1861. ] "'Tis not a year and a quarter since, dear Conway, accepting of myportrait sent to Birmingham, said to the bringer, 'Oh if _your lady_but retains her friendship: oh if I can but keep _her_ patronage, Icare not for the rest. ' And now, when that friendship follows youthrough sickness and through sorrow; now that her patronage is dailyrising in importance: upon a lock of hair given or refused by unepetite Traitresse, hangs all the happiness of my once high-spiritedand high-blooded friend. Let it not be so. EXALT THY LOVE: DEJECTEDHEART--and rise superior to such narrow minds. Do not however fancyshe will ever be punished in the way you mention: no, no; she'llwither on the thorny stem dropping the faded and ungatheredleaves:--a China rose, of no good scent or flavour--false in apparentsweetness, deceitful when depended on--unlike the flower produced incolder climates, which is sought for in old age, preserved _evenafter death_, a lasting and an elegant perfume, --a medicine, too, forthose whose shattered nerves require _astringent remedies_. "And now, dear Sir, let me request of you--to love yourself--and toreflect on the necessity of not dwelling on any _particular subject_too long, or too intensely. It is really very dangerous to the healthof body and soul. Besides that our time here is but short; a merepreface to the great book of eternity: and 'tis scarce worthy of areasonable being not to keep the end of human existence so far inview that we may tend to it--either directly or obliquely in everystep. This is preaching--but remember how the sermon is written atthree, four, and five o'clock by an octogenary pen--a heart (as Mrs. Lee says) twenty-six years old: and as H. L. P. Feels it to be, --ALLYOUR OWN. Suffer your dear noble self to be in some measure benefitedby the talents which are left _me_; your health to be restored bysoothing consolations while _I remain here_, and am able to bestowthem. All is not lost yet. You _have_ a friend, and that friend isPIOZZI. " Conway's "high blood" was as great a recommendation to Mrs. Piozzi ashis good looks, and he vindicated his claim to noble descent by hisconduct, which was disinterested and gentlemanlike throughout. Moore sets down in his Diary, April 28, 1819: "Breakfasted with theFitzgeralds. Took me to call on Mrs. Piozzi; a wonderful old lady;faces of other times seemed to crowd over her as she sat, --theJohnsons, Reynoldses, &c. &c. : though turned eighty, she has all thequickness and intelligence of a gay young woman. " Nichol, the bookseller, had said that "Johnson was the link thatconnected Shakespeare with the rest of mankind. " On hearing this, Mrs. Piozzi at eighty exclaimed, "Oh, the dear fellow, I must givehim a kiss for that idea. " When Nichol told the story, he added, "Inever got it, and she went out of the world a kiss in my debt. " One of the most characteristic feats or freaks of this extraordinarywoman was the celebration of her eightieth birthday by a concert, ball, and supper, to between six and seven hundred people, at theKingston Rooms, Bath, on the 27th January, 1820. At the conclusion ofthe supper, her health was proposed by Admiral Sir James Sausmarez, and drunk with three times three. The dancing began at two, when sheled off with her adopted son, Sir John Salusbury, dancing (accordingto the author of "Piozziana, " an eye-witness) "with astonishingelasticity, and with all the true air of dignity which might havebeen expected of one of the best bred females in society. " When fearswere expressed that she had done too much, she replied:--"No: thissort of thing is greatly in the mind; and I am almost tempted to saythe same of growing old at all, especially as it regards those of theusual concomitants of age, viz. , laziness, defective sight, andill-temper. " "So far from feeling fatigued or exhausted on the following day byher exertions, " remarks Sir James Fellowes in a note on this event, "she amused us by her sallies of wit, and her jokes on 'Tully'sOffices, ' of which her guests had so eagerly availed themselves. ". Tully was the cook and confectioner, the Bath Gunter, who providedthe supper. Mrs. Piozzi died in May, 1821. Her death is circumstantiallycommunicated in a letter from Mrs. Pennington, the lady mentioned inMiss Seward's correspondence as the beautiful and agreeable SophiaWeston:-- "Hot Wells, May 5th, 1821. "Dear Miss Willoughby, --It is my painful task to communicate to you, who have so lately been the kind associate of dearest Mrs. Piozzi, the irreparable loss we have all sustained in that incomparable womanand beloved friend. "She closed her various life about nine o'clock on Wednesday, afteran illness of ten days, with as little suffering as could be imaginedunder these awful circumstances. Her bed-side was surrounded by herweeping daughters: Lady Keith and Mrs. Hoare arrived in time to befully recognised[1]; Miss Thrale, who was absent from town, only justbefore she expired, but with the satisfaction of seeing her breatheher last in peace. "Nothing could behave with more tenderness and propriety than theseladies, whose conduct, I am convinced, has been much misrepresentedand calumniated by those who have only attended to _one_ side of thehistory: but may all that is past be now buried in oblivion!Retrospection seldom improves our view of any subject. Sir JohnSalusbury was too distant, the close of her illness being so rapid, for us to entertain any expectation of his arriving in time to seethe dear deceased. He only reached Clifton late _last_ night. I havenot yet seen him; my whole time has been devoted to the afflictedladies. " [Footnote 1: On hearing of their arrival she is reported to havesaid, "Now, I shall die in state. "] Mrs. Pennington told a friend that Mrs. Piozzi's last words were: "Idie in the trust and the fear of God. " When she was attended by SirGeorge Gibbes, being unable to articulate, she traced a coffin in theair with her hands and lay calm. Her will, dated the 29th March, 1816, makes Sir John Salusbury Piozzi Salusbury heir to all her realand personal property with the exception of some small bequests, SirJames Fellowes and Sir John Salusbury being appointed executors. A Memorandum signed by Sir James Fellowes runs thus:--"After I hadread the Will, Lady Keith and her two sisters present, said they hadlong been prepared for the contents and for such a disposition of theproperty, and they acknowledged the validity of the Will. " * * * * * In any endeavour to solve the difficult problem of Mrs. Piozzi'sconduct and character, it should be kept in view that the highesttestimony to her worth has been volunteered by those with whom shepassed the last years of her life in the closest intimacy. She hadbecome completely reconciled to Madame D'Arblay, with whom she wasactively corresponding when she died, and her mixed qualities of headand heart are thus summed up in that lady's Diary, May, 1821: "I have lost now, just lost, my once most dear, intimate, and admiredfriend, Mrs. Thrale Piozzi, who preserved her fine faculties, herimagination, her intelligence, her powers of allusion and citation, her extraordinary memory, and her almost unexampled vivacity, to thelast of her existence. She was in her eighty-second year, and yetowed not her death to age nor to natural decay, but to the effects ofa fall in a journey from Penzance to Clifton. On her eightiethbirthday she gave a great ball, concert, and supper, in the publicrooms at Bath, to upwards of two hundred persons, and the ball sheopened herself. She was, in truth, a most wonderful character fortalents and eccentricity, for wit, genius, generosity, spirit, andpowers of entertainment. "She had a great deal both of good and not good, in common withMadame de Staël Holstein. They had the same sort of highly superiorintellect, the same depth of learning, the same general acquaintancewith science, the same ardent love of literature, the same thirst foruniversal knowledge, and the same buoyant animal spirits, such asneither sickness, sorrow, nor even terror, could subdue. Theirconversation was equally luminous, from the sources of their ownfertile minds, and from their splendid acquisitions from the worksand acquirements of others. Both were zealous to serve, liberal tobestow, and graceful to oblige; and both were truly high-minded inprizing and praising whatever was admirable that came in their way. Neither of them was delicate nor polished, though each was flatteringand caressing; but both had a fund inexhaustible of good humour, andof sportive gaiety, that made their intercourse with those theywished to please attractive, instructive, and delightful; and thoughnot either of them had the smallest real malevolence in theircompositions, neither of them could ever withstand the pleasure ofuttering a repartee, let it wound whom it might, even though eachwould serve the very person they goaded with all the means in theirpower. Both were kind, charitable, and munificent, and thereforebeloved; both were sarcastic, careless, and daring, and thereforefeared. The morality of Madame de Staël was by far the most faulty, but so was the society to which she belonged; so were the generalmanners of those by whom she was encircled. " There is one real point of similarity between Madame de Staël andMrs. Piozzi, which has been omitted in the parallel. Both weretreated much in the same manner by the amiable, sensitive, andunsophisticated Fanny Burney. In Feb. 1793, she wrote to her father, then at Paris, to announce her intimacy with a small "colony" ofdistinguished emigrants settled at Richmond, the cynosure of whichwas the far-famed daughter of Necker. He writes to caution her on thestrength of a suspicious _liaison_ with M. De Narbonne. She repliesby declaring her belief that the charge is a gross calumny. "Indeed, I think you could not spend a day with them and not see that theircommerce is that of pure, but exalted and most elegant, friendship. Iwould, nevertheless, give the world to avoid being a guest undertheir roof, now that I have heard even the shadow of such a rumour. " If Mr. Croker was right, she was then in her forty-second year; atall events, no tender, timid, delicate maiden, ready to start at ahint or semblance of impropriety; and she waved her scruples withouthesitation when they stood in the way of her intercourse with M. D'Arblay, whom she married in July 1793, he being then employed intranscribing Madame de Staël's Essay on the Influence of thePassions. As to the parallel, with all due deference to Madame D'Arblay'sproved sagacity aided by her personal knowledge of her two giftedfriends, it may be suggested that they present fewer points ofresemblance than any two women of at all corresponding celebrity. [1]The superiority in the highest qualities of mind will be awardedwithout hesitation to the French woman, although M. Thiers terms herwritings the perfection of mediocrity. She grappled successfully withsome of the weightiest and subtlest questions of social and politicalscience; in criticism she displayed powers which Schlegel might haveenvied while he aided their fullest development in her "Germany"; andher "Corinne" ranks amongst the best of those works of fiction whichexcel in description, reflection, and sentiment, rather than inpathos, fancy, stirring incident, or artfully contrived plot. But hertone of mind was so essentially and notoriously masculine, that whenshe asked Talleyrand whether he had read her "Delphine, " he answered, "Non, Madame, mais on m'a dit que-nous y sommes tous les deuxdéguisés en femmes. "[2] This was a material drawback on heragreeability: in a moment of excited consciousness, she exclaimed, that she would give all her fame for the power of fascinating; andthere was no lack of bitterness in her celebrated repartee to the manwho, seated between her and Madame Recamier, boasted of being betweenWit and Beauty, "Oui, et sans posséder ni l'un ni l'autre. "[3] Theview from Richmond Park she called "calme et animée, ce qu'on doitêtre, et que je ne suis pas. " [Footnote 1: Lady Morgan and Madame de Genlis have been suggested aseach presenting a better subject for a parallel. ] [Footnote 2: "To understand the point of this answer, " says Mr. Mackintosh, "it must be known that an old countess is introduced inthe novel full of cunning, finessing, and trick, who was intended torepresent Talleyrand, and Delphine was intended for herself. "--_Lifeof Sir James Mackintosh_, vol. Ii. P. 453. ] [Footnote 3: This _mot_ is given to Talleyrand in Lady Holland's Lifeof Sydney Smith. But it may be traced to one mentioned by Hannah Morein 1787, as then current in Paris. One of the _notables_ fresh fromhis province was teased by two _petits maîtres_ to tell them who hewas. "Eh bien donc, le voici: je suis ni sot ni fat, mais je suisentre les deux. "--_Memoirs of Hannah More_, vol. Ii. P. 57. ] In London she was soon voted a bore by the wits and people offashion. She thought of convincing whilst they thought of dining. Sheridan and Brummell delighted in mystifying her. Byron complainedthat she was always talking of himself or herself[1], and concludeshis account of a dinner-party by the remark:--"But we got up too soonafter the women; and Mrs. Corinne always lingers so long afterdinner, that we wish her--in the drawing-room. " In another place hesays: "I saw Curran presented to Madame de Staël at Mackintosh's; itwas the grand confluence between the Rhone and the Saône, and theywere both so d--d ugly that I could not help wondering how the bestintellects of France and England could have taken up respectivelysuch residences. " He afterwards qualifies this opinion: "Her figurewas not bad; her legs tolerable; her arms good: altogether I canconceive her having been a desirable woman, allowing a littleimagination for her soul, and so forth. She would have made a greatman. " [Footnote 1: Johnson told Boswell: "You have only two topics, yourself and myself, and I am heartily sick of both. "] This is just what Mrs. Piozzi never would have made. Her mind, despite her masculine acquirements, was thoroughly feminine: she hadmore tact than genius, more sensibility and quickness of perceptionthan depth, comprehensiveness, or continuity of thought. But her verydiscursiveness prevented her from becoming wearisome: her variedknowledge supplied an inexhaustible store of topics andillustrations; her lively fancy placed them in attractive lights; andher mind has been well likened to a kaleidoscope which, whenever itsglittering and heterogeneous contents are moved or shaken, surprisesby some new combination of colour or of form. She professed to writeas she talked; but her conversation was doubtless better than herbooks: her main advantages being a well-stored memory, fertility ofimages, aptness of allusion, and _apropos_. Her colloquial excellence and her agreeability are established by theunanimous testimony of her cotemporaries. Her fame in this respectrests on the same basis as that of all great wits, all great actors, and many great orators. To question it for want of more tangible anddurable proofs, would be as unreasonable as to question SydneySmith's humour, Hook's powers of improvisation, Garrick's Richard, orSheridan's Begum speech. But _ex pede Herculem_. Marked indicationsof her quality will be found in her letters and her books. "Both, "remarks an acute and by no means partial critic[1], "are full ofhappy touches, and here and there will be found in them those deepand piercing thoughts which come intuitively to people of genius. " [Footnote 1: The Athenæum. Jan. 26th, 1861. ] Surely these are happy touches: "I hate a general topic as a pretty woman hates a general mourningwhen black does not become her complexion. " "Life is a schoolroom, not a playground. " In allusion to the rage for scientific experiment in 1811: "Never waspoor Nature so put to the rack, and never, of course, was she made totell so many lies. " "Science (i. E. Learning), which acted as a sceptre in the hand ofJohnson, and was used as a club by Dr. Parr, became a lady's fan, when played with by George Henry Glasse. " "Hope is drawn with an anchor always, and Common Sense is neverstrong enough to draw it up. " "The poppy which Nature sows among the corn, to shew us that sleep isas necessary as bread. " [1] [Footnote 1: Or to shew us that the harvest diminishes with sloth, and that what we gain in sleep we lose in bread. But _qui dort, dine_. ] "The best writers are not the best friends; and the last character ismore to be valued than the first by cotemporaries: after fifty years, indeed, the others carry away all the applause. " This is the reason why posterity always takes part with the famousauthor or man of genius against those who witnessed his meanness orsuffered from his selfishness; why fresh apologists will constantlybe found for Bacon's want of principle and Johnson's want of manners. In the course of his famous definition or description of wit, Barrowsays: "Sometimes it lieth in pat allusion to a known story, or inseasonable application of a trivial saying: sometimes it playeth inwords and phrases, taking advantage from the ambiguity of their senseor the affinity of their sound. " If this be so, she possessed it inabundance. In a letter, dated Bath, 26th April, 1818, --about the timewhen Talleyrand said of Lady F. S. 's robe: "_Elle commence trop tardet finit trop tôt_, "--she writes: "A genteel young clergyman, in our Upper Crescent, told his mammaabout ten days ago, that he had lost his heart to pretty MissPrideaux, and that he must absolutely marry her or die. _La chèremère_ of course replied gravely: 'My dear, you have not beenacquainted with the lady above a fortnight: let me recommend you tosee more of her. ' 'More of her!' exclaimed the lad, 'why I have seendown to the fifth rib on each side already. ' This story will serve toconvince Captain T. Fellowes and yourself, that as you have alwaysacknowledged the British Belles to _exceed_ those of every othernation, you may now say with truth, that they _outstrip_ them. " On the 1st July, 1818: "The heat has certainly exhausted my faculties, and I have but justlife enough left to laugh at the fourteen tailors who, united under aflag with '_Liberty and Independence_' on it, went to vote for someof these gay fellows, I forget which, but the motto is ill chosen, said I, they should have written up, '_Measures not Men_'" Her verses are advantageously distinguished amongst those of herblue-stocking contemporaries by happy turns of thought andexpression, natural playfulness, and an abundant flow of idiomaticlanguage. But her facility was a fatal gift, as it has proved to mostfemale aspirants to poetic fame, who rarely stoop to the labour ofthe file. Although the first rule laid down by Goldsmith'sconnoisseur[1] is far from universally applicable to productions ofthe pencil or the pen, all fruitful writers would do well to act uponit, and what Mrs. Piozzi could do when she took pains is decisivelyproved by her "Streatham Portraits. " [Footnote 1: "Upon my asking him how he had acquired the art of aconoscente so very suddenly, he assured me that nothing was moreeasy. The whole secret consisted in an adherence to two rules: theone always to observe that the picture might have been better if thepainter had taken more pains; and the other to praise the works ofPietro Perugino. "--_The Vicar of Wakefield_, ch. Xx. ] She was wanting in refinement, which very few of the eighteenthcentury wits and authors possessed according to more modern notions;and she abounded in vanity, which, if not necessarily a baneful orunamiable quality, is a fruitful source of folly and peculiarlycalculated to provoke censure or ridicule. In her, fortunately, itseffects were a good deal modified by the frankness of its avowal anddisplay, by her habits of self-examination, by her impulsivegenerosity of character, and by her readiness to admit the claims andconsult the feelings of others. To seek out and appreciate merit asshe appreciated it, is a high merit in itself. Her piety was genuine; and old-fashioned politicians, whose watchwordis Church and King, will be delighted with her politics. Literarymen, considering how many curious inquiries depend upon her accuracy, will be more anxious about her truthfulness, and I have had ampleopportunities of testing it; having not only been led to compare hernarratives with those of others, but to collate her own statements ofthe same transactions or circumstances at distant intervals or todifferent persons. It is difficult to keep up a large correspondencewithout frequent repetition. Sir Walter Scott used to write preciselythe same things to three or four fine-lady friends, and Mrs. Piozzicould no more be expected to find a fresh budget of news or gossipfor each epistle than the author of "Waverley. " Thus, in 1815, shewrites to a Welsh baronet from Bath: "We have had a fine Dr. Holland here. [1] He has seen and writtenabout the Ionian Islands; and means now to practise as a physician, exchanging the Cyclades, say we wits and wags, for the Sick Ladies. We made quite a lion of the man. I was invited to every house hevisited at for the last three days; so I got the _Queue du lion_despairing of _le Coeur_. " [Footnote 1: Sir Henry Holland, Bart. , who, with many other titles todistinction, is one of the most active and enterprising of moderntravellers. ] Two other letters written about the same time contain the same pieceof intelligence and the same joke. She was very fond of writingmarginal notes; and after annotating one copy of a book, would takeup another and do the same. I have never detected a substantialvariation in her narratives, even in those which were more or lessdictated by pique; and as she generally drew upon the "Thraliana" forher materials, this, having been carefully and calmly compiled, affords an additional guarantee for her accuracy. Her taste for reading never left her or abated to the last. Inreference to a remark (in Boswell) on the irksomeness of books topeople of advanced age, she writes: "Not to me at eighty years old:being grieved that year (1819) particularly, I was forced upon studyto relieve my mind, and it had the due effect. I wrote this note in1820. " She sometimes gives anecdotes of authors. Thus, in the letter justquoted, she says: "Lord Byron protests his wife was a fortune withoutmoney, a belle without beauty, and a blue-stocking without either witor learning. " But her literary information grew scanty as she grewold: "The literary world (she writes in 1821) is to me terraincognita, far more deserving of the name, now Parry and Ross arereturned, than any part of the polar regions:" and her opinions ofthe rising authors are principally valuable as indications of theobstacles which budding reputations must overcome. "Pindar's fineremark respecting the different effects of music on differentcharacters, holds equally true of genius: so many as are notdelighted by it are disturbed, perplexed, irritated. The beholdereither recognises it as a projected form of his own being, that movesbefore him with a glory round its head, or recoils from it as aspectre. "[1] The octogenarian critic of the Johnsonian school recoilsfrom "Frankenstein" as from an incarnation of the Evil Spirit: shedoes not know what to make of the "Tales of my Landlord"; and sheinquires of an Irish acquaintance whether she retained recollectionenough of her own country to be entertained with "that strangecaricature, Castle Rack Rent. " Contemporary judgments such as these(not more extravagant than Horace Walpole's) are to the historian ofliterature what fossil remains are to the geologist. [Footnote 1: Coleridge, "Aids to Reflection. "] Although perhaps no biographical sketch was ever executed, as alabour of love, without an occasional attack of what Lord Macaulaycalls the _Lues Boswelliana_ or fever of admiration, I hope it isunnecessary for me to say that I am not setting up Mrs. Piozzi as amodel letter-writer, or an eminent author, or a pattern of thedomestic virtues, or a fitting object of hero or heroine worship inany capacity. All I venture to maintain is, that her life andcharacter, if only for the sake of the "associate forms, " deserve tobe vindicated against unjust reproach, and that she has written manythings which are worth snatching from oblivion or preserving fromdecay. END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. LONDON PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO. NEW-STREET SQUARE