I had no other adventure in London, but a most delightful incident has happened since I came hither. We had just done tea on Friday, and Mrs.

Hamilton, Kitty, Jem, and Mr. Crisp, were sitting down to cards, when we were surprised by an express from London, and it brought a "Whereas we think fit" from the Admiralty, to appoint Captain Burney to the command of the "Latona," during the absence of the Honourable Captain Conway.

This is one of the best frigates in the navy, of thirty-eight guns, and immediately, I believe, ready for service. Jem was almost frantic with ecstacy of joy: he sang, laughed, drank to his own success, and danced about the room with Miss Kitty till He put her quite out of breath. His hope is to get out immediately, and have a brush with some of the Dons, Monsieurs, or Mynheers, while he is in possession of a ship of sufficient force to attack any frigate he may meet.

(Mrs. Thrale wrote to f.a.n.n.y from Streatham, Dec. 22:--)

I have picked up something to please you; Dr. Johnson p.r.o.nounced an actual eulogium upon Captain Burney, to his yesterday's listeners--how amiable he was, and how gentle in his manner, etc., tho' he had lived so many years with sailors and savages.

THE DEATH OF MR. THRALE.

f.a.n.n.y BURNEY to MRS. THRALE[135]

Wednesday Evening, April 4, 1781

You bid me write to you, and so I will; you bid me pray for you, and so, indeed, I do, for the restoration of your sweet peace of mind. I pray for your resignation to this hard blow, for the continued union and exertion of your virtues with your talents, and for the happiest reward their exertion can meet with, in the grat.i.tude and prosperity of your children. These are my prayers for my beloved Mrs. Thrale; but these are not my only ones; no, the unfailing warmth of her kindness for myself I have rarely, for a long time past, slept without first pet.i.tioning.

I ran away without seeing you again when I found you repented that sweet compliance with my request which I had won from you. For the world would I not have pursued you, had I first seen your prohibition, nor could I endure to owe that consent to teasing which I only solicited from tenderness. Still, however, I think you had better have suffered me to follow you; I might have been of some use; I hardly could have been in your way. But I grieve now to have forced you to an interview which I would have spared myself as well as you, had I foreseen how little it would have answered my purpose.

Yet though I cannot help feeling disappointed, I am not surprised; for in any case at all similar, I am sure I should have the same eagerness for solitude.

I tell you nothing of how sincerely I sympathise in your affliction; yet I believe that Mr. Crutchley and Dr. Johnson alone do so more earnestly; and I have some melancholy comfort in flattering myself that, allowing for the difference of our characters, that true regard which I felt was as truly returned. Nothing but kindness did I ever meet with; he ever loved to have me, not merely with his family, but with himself; and gratefully shall I ever remember a thousand kind expressions of esteem and good opinion, which are now crowding upon my memory.

SECT. 4 (1781-2.)

MISS BURNEY EXTENDS THE CIRCLE OF HER ACQUAINTANCE.

[During the years 1781 and 1782 f.a.n.n.y was engaged upon her second novel, "Cecilia," which was published in July, 1782.

It is not necessary here to discuss the merits of a work with which everyone ought to be acquainted. We may safely leave the task of criticising "Cecilia" to an unimpeachable authority, Edmund Burke, whose magnificent, but just eulogy of the book will be found on page 232 Of the present volume.

In the following section of "The Diary" f.a.n.n.y records one of the most memorable events of her life,--her introduction to Burke, in June, 1782, at Sir Joshua Reynolds's house on Richmond Hill. Her letter to Mr. Crisp, printed in the "Memoirs of Dr. Burney," gives a more detailed account than that in the "Diary," of the conversation which pa.s.sed on this occasion. Other men of genius were present, among them Gibbon the historian, whom she then met for the first time; but f.a.n.n.y had eyes and ears for none but Burke. Nor was she singular in yielding thus completely to the fascination of the great Irishman's manner and conversation. Wherever he appeared, in what society soever he mingled, Burke was still the man of distinction. As Johnson said, you could not stand under a shed with Burke for a few minutes, during a shower of rain, without feeling that you were in the company of an extraordinary man.

Mr. Thrale's death produced no immediate change in the situation of affairs at Streatham. Dr. Johnson's visits were as frequent and as protracted as before; f.a.n.n.y continued to be numbered among the dearest friends of the widow. Not yet had arisen that infatuation which eventually alienated from Mrs. Thrale the sympathy of her former friends, and subjected her, justly or unjustly, to such severe and general condemnation. But to this topic we shall revert at a later period.

The great brewer had left his wife and family in affluent circ.u.mstances. The executors to his Will were Dr. Johnson, Mr. Henry Smith, Mr. Cator and Mr. Crutchley, together with Mrs. Thrale. Of the last-named gentleman we shall hear a good deal in the following pages. He and Mr. Cator were both chosen members of parliament In the same year--1784: Mr. Cator for Ipswich, Mr. Crutchley for Horsham. Early in the summer following Thrale's decease the brewery was sold for the handsome sum of 135,000 pounds, to David Barclay, the Quaker, who took Thrale's old manager, Perkins into Partnership. Thus was founded the famous house Of Barclay and Perkins.-ED-]

YOUNG MR. CRUTCHLEY RUFFLES MISS BURNEY.

Streatham, May.

Miss Owen and I arrived here without incident, which, in a journey of six or seven miles, was really marvellous. Mrs. Thrale came from the Borough with two of the executors, Dr. Johnson and Mr Crutchley soon after us. She had been sadly worried, and in the evening frightened us all by again fainting away. Dear creature! she is all agitation of mind and of body: but she is now wonderfully recovered though in continual fevers about her affairs, which are mighty difficult and complicate indeed. Yet the behaviour of all the executors is exactly to her wish.

Mr. Crutchley, in particular, was he a darling son or only brother could not possibly be more truly devoted to her. Indeed., I am very happy in the revolution in my own mind in favour of this young man, whom formerly I so little liked; for I now see so much of him, business and inclination uniting to bring him hither continually, that if he were disagreeable to me, I should spend my time in a most comfortless manner.

On the contrary, I both respect and esteem him very highly; for his whole conduct manifests so much goodness of heart and excellence of principle, that he is Un homme comme ill y en a peu; and that first appearance of coldness, pride, reserve, and sneering, all wears off upon further acquaintance, and leaves behind nothing but good-humour and good-will. And this you must allow to be very candid, when I tell you that, but yesterday, he affronted me so much by a piece Of impertinence that I had a very serious quarrel with im.

Sunday morning n.o.body went to church but Mr. Crutchley, Miss Thrale, and myself; and some time after, when I was sauntering upon the lawn before the house, Mr. Crutchley joined me. We were returning together into the house, when, Mrs. Thrale, popping her head out of her dressing-room window, called out,

"How nicely these men domesticate among us, Miss Burney! Why, they take to us as natural as life!"

"Well, well," cried Mr. Crutchley, "I have sent for my horse, and I shall release you early to-morrow morning, I think yonder comes Sir Philip."[136]

"Oh! you'll have enough to do with him," cried she, laughing; "he is well prepared to plague you, I a.s.sure you."

"Is he?--and what about?"

"Why, about Miss Burney. He asked me the other day what was my present establishment. 'Mr. Crutchley and Miss Burney,' I answered. 'How well those two names go together,' cried he; 'I think they can't do better than make a match of it: I will consent, I am sure,' he added; and to-day, I dare say, you will hear enough of it."

I leave you to judge if I was pleased at this stuff thus communicated; but Mrs. Thrale, with all her excellence, can give up no occasion of making sport, however unseasonable, or even painful.

"I am very much obliged to him, indeed," cried I, dryly; and Mr.

Crutchley called out, "Thank him!--thank him!" in a voice of pride and of pique that spoke him mortally angry.

I instantly came into the house, leaving him to talk it out with Mrs.

Thrale, to whom I heard him add, "So this is Sir Philip's kindness!" and her answer, "I wish you no worse luck!"

Now, what think you of this? was it not highly insolent?--and from a man who has behaved to me hitherto with the utmost deference, good-nature, and civility, and given me a thousand reasons, by every possible opportunity, to think myself very high indeed in his good opinion and good graces? But these rich men think themselves the constant prey of all portionless girls, and are always upon their guard, and suspicious of some design to take them in. This sort of disposition I had very early observed in Mr. Crutchley, and therefore I had been more distant and cold with him than with anybody I ever met with; but latterly his character had risen so much in my mind, and his behaviour was so much improved, that I had let things take their own course, and no more shunned than I sought him; for I evidently saw his doubts concerning me and my plots were all at an end, and his civility and attentions were daily increasing, so that I had become very comfortable with him, and well pleased with his society.

I need not, I think, add that I determined to see as little of this most fearful and haughty gentleman in future as was in my power, since no good qualities can compensate for such arrogance of suspicion; and, therefore, as I had reason enough to suppose he would, in haste, resume his own reserve, I resolved, without much effort, to be beforehand with him in resuming mine.

MISS BURNEY SULKS ON.

At dinner we had a large and most disagreeable party of Irish ladies, whom Mrs. Thrale was necessitated to invite from motives of business and various connections.

I was obliged to be seated between Miss O'Riley and Mr. Crutchley, to whom you may believe I was not very courteous, especially as I had some apprehension of Sir Philip. Mr. Crutchley, however, to my great surprise, was quite as civil as ever, and endeavoured to be as chatty; but there I begged to be excused, only answering upon the reply, and that very dryly, for I was indeed horribly provoked with him.

I was much diverted during dinner by this Miss O'Riley, who took it in her humour to attack Mr. Crutchley repeatedly, though so discouraging a beau never did I see! Her forwardness, and his excessive and inordinate coldness, made a contrast that, added to her brogue, which was broad, kept me in a grin irrepressible.

In the afternoon we had also Mr. Wallace, the attorney general, a most squat and squab looking man. In the evening, when the Irish ladies, the Perkinses, Lambarts, and Sir Philip, had gone, Mrs. Thrale walked out with Mr. Wallace, whom she had some business to talk over with; and then, when only Miss Owen, Miss T., and I remained, Mr. Crutchley, after repeatedly addressing me, and gaining pretty dry answers, called out suddenly,

"Why, Miss Burney! why, what's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"Why, are you stricken, or smitten, or ill?"

"None of the three."