The Diary and Collected Letters of Madame D'Arblay, Frances Burney. Frances Burney
139 The Rev. George Owen Cambridge, second son of Richard Owen Cambridge, whose works he edited, and whose memoir he wrote. He died at Twickenham in 1841.
140 John Hoole, the translator of Tasso.
141 Frances Reynolds, the miniature painter—Sir Joshua’s sister
142 Soame Jenyns was one of the most celebrated of the “old wits.” He was born in 1704; was for twenty-five years member of Parliament for Cambridgeshire; died in 1787. His principal works were “A Free Enquiry into the Origin of Evil,” and “A View of the Internal Evidence of the Christian Religion.” Boswell writes of him: “Jenyns was possessed of lively talents, and a style eminently pure and ‘easy’, and could very happily play with a light subject, either in prose or verse; but when he speculated on that most difficult and excruciating question, ‘The Origin of Evil,’ he ventured far beyond his depth, and, accordingly, was exposed by Johnson (in the ‘Literary Magazine’), both with acute argument and brilliant wit.”
143 “Memoirs of Dr. Burney,” vol. iii. p. 169.
144 Hester Mulso was born in 1727; she married, in 1760, an attorney named Chapone, who died within a year of the marriage. Among the many young ladies who surrounded and corresponded with Samuel Richardson, Hester was a first favourite. The great novelist’s letters to his “dear Miss Mulso” are very pleasant to read. Mrs. Chapone enjoyed considerable esteem as an authoress. Her “Letters on the Improvement of the Mind,” dedicated to Mrs. Montagu, went through several editions. We should like to praise them, but the truth must be owned—they are decidedly commonplace and “goody-goody.” Still, they are written in a spirit of tender earnestness, which raises our esteem for the writer, though it fails to reconcile us to the book. Mrs. Chapone died on Christmas-day, 1801.
145 Truly said, “my dear Miss Mulso,” but if they cannot feel the wonderful charm and reality of “Clarissa” in the very first volume, they may as well leave it alone.
146 In a corner of the nave of the quaint little church at Chesington is a large white marble tablet, marking the spot where Mr. Crisp lies buried. The following lines from the pen of Fanny’s father inscribed on it do not, it must be confessed, exhibit the doctor’s poetical talents by any means in a favourable light.
“In memory of SAMUEL CRISP, Esq., who died April 24, 1783, aged 76.
Reader, this cold and humble spot contains
The much lamented, much rever’d remains
Of one whose wisdom, learning, taste, and sense,
Good-humour’d wit and wide benevolence
Cheer’d and enlightened all this hamlet round,
Wherever genius, worth, or want was found.
To few it is that bounteous heav’n imparts
Such depth of knowledge, and such taste in arts
Such penetration, and enchanting pow’rs
Of brit’ning social and convivial hours.
Had he, through life, been blest by nature kind
With health robust of body as of mind,
With skill to serve and charm mankind, so great
In arts, in science, letters, church, or state,
His name the nation’s annals had enroll’d
And virtues to remotest ages told.”
“C. BURNEY.”
(Mr. Gibbon, “in stepping too lightly from, or to a boat of Mr. Cambridge’s, had slipt into the Thames; whence, however, he was intrepidly and immediately rescued, with no other mischief than a wet jacket, by one of that fearless, water-proof race, denominated, by Mr. Gibbon, the amphibious family of the Cambridges.” (“Memoir of Dr. Burney,” vol. ii. P. 341.)
147 The “Essex Head” club, just founded by Dr. Johnson. The meetings were held thrice a week at the Essex Head, a tavern in Essex-street, Strand, kept by Samuel Greaves, an old servant of Mr. Thrale’s. Among the rule’s of the club, which were drawn up by Dr. Johnson, we find the following: “Every member present at the club shall spend at least sixpence; and every member who stays away shall forfeit threepence.” He ought to have added, “to be spent by the company in punch.” (See Goldsmith’s delightful essay on the London clubs.)
148 The Lockes, of Norbury Park, Surrey, were friends of Fanny’s sister, Mrs. Phillips, and, subsequently, among the most constant and attached friends of Fanny herself.
149 It must be borne in mind that the “Diary” is addressed to Fanny’s sister Susan (Mrs. Phillips),
150 Mrs. Locke.
151 Mrs. Phillips had lately gone to live at Boulogne for the benefit of her health.
152 Mrs. Phillips returned in less than a twelvemonth from Boulogne, much recovered in health, and settled with her husband and family in a house at Mickleham, at the foot of Norbury Park.
153 Fanny had called upon Dr. Johnson the same day, but he was too ill to see her.
154 Sunday, December 12.
155 Frank Barber, Dr. Johnson’s negro servant.—
156 Mary Bruce Strange, daughter of Sir Robert Strange, the celebrated engraver. She died, as Fanny tells us, on the same day with Dr. Johnson, December 13, 1784, aged thirty-five. The Stranges were old and very intimate friends of the Burneys
157 Her brother
(1785–6.)
MISS BURNEY IS FAVOURABLY NOTICED BY THE KING AND QUEEN
(The pleasantest portion of the following section of the Diary is that which relates to the growing intimacy between Fanny and Mrs. Delany. It was a friendship, however, which proved dear to Fanny in every sense of the word. On the one hand the mutual affection which subsisted between her and a lady in every way so worthy of her regard, was a source of continual gratification to both; on the other hand it was the immediate cause of an event which may be, without exaggeration, described as the greatest misfortune of Fanny’s life—her ill-starred appointment at Court. We fully share Macaulay’s indignation at this absurd and singularly unsuitable appointment. Its consequences to Fanny were almost disastrous; yet the reader will reap the reward of her suffering in perusing the brilliant pages in which her humour and penetration have invested with an interest not its own the frivolous tattle of her commonplace companions. Her account of the royal family is on the whole favourable. The princesses appear to have been really amiable and, so far as etiquette would permit, sensible young women. Of the king and queen we know few things which are more to their credit than that they should have been able to inspire Fanny with a regard so obviously sincere. But even Fanny, with all her loyal partiality, could make no more of them than a well-meaning couple, whose conversation never rose above the commonplace. After all, we can hardly help feeling that the whole of this Court Diary, entertaining as it is, would be well exchanged for the description, in Fanny’s animated style, of a few more dinner-parties at Sir Joshua’s, a few more conversations with Edmund Burke.
The burst of exultation with which Fanny’s friends greeted the unhappy appointment says little for their common sense. Even Burke, who at least ought to have known better, fell in with the general infatuation, although he, if no one else felt that the honour was not all on Fanny’s side. He called in St. Martin’s-street, and finding Dr. Burney and his daughter from home, left a card on which he had written these words:—“Mr. Burke, to congratulate upon the honour done by the Queen to Miss Burney,—and to