Thraliana extracts

Extracts from Thraliana (1776-1809)

ed. Katharine C. Balderston

“She was in truth, a most wonderful character for talents and eccentricity, for wit, genius, generosity, spirit and powers of entertainment.”

Madame d’Arblay.

“Dr Johnson’s Mrs Thrale. Witty, Vivacious and Charming, in an Age of Genius she held ever a foremost Place.”

Plaque in Tremeirchion church, where she is buried.

For further information see the biography of Mrs Piozzi by Martin J. Franklin in the online Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, and the Thrale.com website.

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Vol 1 p. 1] It is many Years since Doctor Samuel Johnson advised me to get a little Book, and write in it all the little anecdotes which might come to my Knowledge, all the Observations I might make or hear; all the verses never likely to be published, and in fine ev’ry thing which struck me at the Time. Mr Thrale has now treated me with a Repository, - and provided it with the pompous Title of Thraliana; I must endeavour to fill it with Nonsense new and old. 15: September 1776.

Mr Damor* a fine Gentleman about this Town, shot himself a few Weeks ago; he had bought a pair of new pistols at noon, dined with a friend at five, and appeared chearful; it is not said where he loitered till eleven, but at that hour or near it he went to a Tavern in Fleet Street, & calling for four Wenches & a Fiddle, sate down to see them dance for some Time; He then dismissed them, but ordered the Fidler to return in five & twenty Minutes, which he accordingly did, & found Mr Damor shot through the head - the Body sitting upright, & the brains blown to the Door. - Can one help thinking of the Verses in Buckingham’s Rehearsal?

Let us to serious Counsel now advance,

‘Tis very fit - but first let’s have a Dance.

This Man belonged to the Scavoirvivre Club indeed - he certainly did not understand the Scavoirmourir.

* According to Horace Walpole he killed himself on August 15th at the Bedford Arms, Covent Garden, because of debts, amounting to £70 000, which he and his brothers had incurred, and which his father, Lord Milton, refused to pay.

p. 27 28 May 1777] Mr Murphy asked me one Day this Winter how all my curious Fowls did; - he knows I am Poultry mad - This uncommon Frost says I has affected their Sight strangely, and some of them are gone quite blind. Why replies he so much Snow is bad for the Eyes - my own Sight has suffered much in the manner of your Fowls. - And yet says Baretti you are no Chicken Mr Murphy.

p.52] Mr Thrale’s Person is Manly, his Countenance agreeable, his Eyes steady and of the deepest Blue: his Look neither soft nor severe, neither sprightly nor gloomy, but thoughtful and Intelligent: his Address is neither caressive nor repulsive, but unaffectedly civil and decorous; and his Manner more completely free from every kind of trick or Particularity than I ever saw any person’s - he is a Man wholly as I think out of the Power of Mimickry. He loves Money & is diligent to obtain it; but he loves Liberality too, & is willing enough both to give generously & spend fashionably. His Passions either are not strong, or else he keeps them under such Command that they seldom disturb his Tranquillity or his Friends, & it must I think be something more than common which can affect him strongly either with Hope, Fear Anger Love or Joy. His regard for his Father’s Memory is remarkably great, and he has been a most exemplary Brother; though when the house of his favourite Sister was on Fire, & we were alarmed with the Account of it in the Night, I well remember that he never rose, but bidding the Servant who called us, go to her Assistance; quietly turned about & slept to his usual hour. I must give another Trait of his Tranquillity on a different Occasion; he had built great Casks holding 1000 Hogsheads each, & was much pleased with their Profit & Appearance - one Dty however he came down to Streatham as usual to dinner & after hearing & talking of a hundred trifles - but I forgot says he to tell you how one of my great Casks is burs & all the Beer run out.

Mr Thrale’s Sobriety, & the Decency of his Conversation being wholly free from all Oaths Ribaldry and Profaneness make him a Man exceedingly comfortable to live with, while the easiness of his Temper and slowness to take Offence add greatly to his Value as a domestic Man; Yet I think his Servants do not much love him, and I am not sure that his Children feel much Affection for him: low People almost all indeed agree to abhorr him, as he has none of that officious & cordial Manner which is universally required by them - nor any Skill to dissemble his dislike of their Coarseness - with Regard to his Wife, tho’ little tender of her Person, he is very partial to her Understanding, - but he is obliging to nobody; & confers a Favour less pleasingly than many a Man refuses to confer one. This appears to me to be as just a Character as can be given of the Man with whom I have now lived thirteen years, and tho’ his is extremely reserved and uncommunicative, yet one must know something of him after so long Acquaintance. Johnson has a very great Degree of Kindness & Esteem for him, & says if he would talk more, his Manner would be very completely that of a perfect Gentleman.

p. 71] I had a black and white speckled Hen once changed entirely white at the moulting Season; She seemed very ill and drooping before the Change, and after her Plumage was milk white, & She was recovered her Illness, She used to hide herself among the Bushes as if ashamed of the alteration, which had indeed a very particular Effect. This Accident, joyn’d to some Observation inclines me to think whiteness rather an Imperfection wherever it is found… and indeed - to look no further, our own Hair grows white as we all know merely from Age, Grief, Sickness, Fright or some evil Accident befalling us: it is further observable that in the Torrid Zone there are few if any white Animals, in the Temperate Zone whiteness seems to be always an Effect of Decay - and in the Frigid Zone the Foxes, the Bears, the Deer - every thing is white: go still further - Human Creatures - which are black under the Line, get fairer in more temperate Latitudes, and the Scotch Highlanders we all know to be eminently white of Complexion - Horse as well as Men and Dogs grow grey with Age, but if they are naturally white or Cream Colour - does anybody think well of them? did ever white Horse win a Plate? or ever white Cock gain a Battle? - Newmarket is conscious of the contrary. in Vegetable Substances - has a white Rose the same Degree of fragrance as a Red? and in Minerals is not Silver less precious than Gold? To return to Animals are not People with white Hair and Eye brows reckoned foolish, and in effect did one ever hear of a great Man who was eminently white? are not Children fairest while they are Infants? - and does not the Complexion gain Colour as the Body & Mind gains Strength? - so much for my hypothesis concerning Whiteness, which Linnaeus carries still farther when holds the original Human Pair to have Been Black, and the Europeans to be only an accidental Variety

p 81 June 1777 I was from home one Day when Dr Goldsmith called - he sate a while in the Room he was shewed to, but soon crossed the Stairs head to my Apartment - not a Bed Chamber - where my Things were set for dressing: there did he examine every Box upon the Toylet, every Paper upon the Card Rack, every thing in short with an Impudence truly Irish.

p. 98 June 1777] It was a good April Joke enough this Year to put it in all the News papers - that if People would turn to the 5th Verse of the 4th Chapter in Habbakuk they would find out the true Cause of our War with America: the Wag who amused himself with this Contrivance walked about that morning from Coffee house to Coffee house seeing the Folks borrowing the Bible from each other with a ridiculous earnestness of Attention diverting enough.

p. 148 … I believe Taste is rather uniform thing, nor can even national Prejudices stifle a good one. Neither Pope nor Shenstone, neither Lyttelton nor Brown can go further in point of Taste for Gardening than did Bacon in those Days of Darkness, or than does J; J; Rousseau in a Nation so dead to every thing tasteful as the French is.

p. 169 Of Lady Catherine Wynne he [Johnson] said that She was like sower Small beer; She could not says he have been a good Thing; & even that bad thing was spoil’d.

[In her Tour of Wales [1774] (with Dr Johnson) Mrs Thrale had this to say about Glynllifon, the country estate of Sir Thomas Wynn and his lady: “The house… is stately and the master has much elegance and some knowledge, both of books and life, has travelled and has read; he has not, however shewed much skill in the choice of his Wife, who is an empty woman of quality, insolent, ignorant, and ill bred, without either beauty or fortune to atone for her faults. She set a vile dinner before us, and on such linen as shocked one; no plate, no china to be seen, nothing but what was as despicable as herself.”]

p. 183 The Piety of Doctor Johnson was exemplary & edifying; yet he had none of that Turn to religious Mortifications which the Roman Catholick votaries to Virtue are apt enough to practise. When we were abroad together I used to talk with him of the hardships suffered in Places of Seclusion: remember says he that Convents are idle Places of Course & where nothing can be done, something must be suffered, or the insipidity of Monastic Life would produce Madness: Mustard has a bad Taste, but you cannot eat Brawn without it. - Of the Claires, Carthusians &c. he used to say that they should write upon their Gates what Dante writes upon the Gates of Hell:

Lasciate ogni Speranza - voi ch’entrate.

Religion adds Johnson, is the highest Exercise of Reason; let us not begin it by turning all reason out of Doors. - I would tell him too sometimes that his Morality was easily satisfied, & when I have lamented to him the wickedness of the World - he has often answer’d - prythee my Dearest let us have done with Canting, there is very little of gross Iniquity to be seen; & still less of extraordinary Virtue.

p.184 In Consequence of these Principles [i.e. tenderness for poverty] he has now in his house whole Nests of People who would if he did not support them be starving I suppose: -

A Blind woman & her Maid, a Blackamoor and his Wife, a Scotch Wench * who has her Case as a Pauper depending in some of the Law Courts; a Woman whose Father once lived at Lichfield & whose Son is a strolling Player, - and a superannuated Surgeon to have Care of the whole Ship’s Company. Such is the present State of Johnson’s Family resident in Bolt Court - an Alley in Fleet Street, which he gravely asserts to be the best Situation in London; and thither when he is at home he keeps a sort of odd Levee for distress’d Authors, breaking Booksellers, & in short every body that has even the lowest Pretensions to Literature in Distress.

*Poll Carmichael of whom Johnson said: “Poll is a stupid slut; I had some hopes of her at first; but when I talked to her tightly and closely, I could make nothing of her; she was wiggle-waggle, and I could never persuade her to be categorical.”

p. 186] … no Flattery was so welcome to him, as that which told him he had the Mind or Manners of a Gentleman, which he always said was the most complete & the most difficult to obtain: one said an Officer had commonly the Manner of a Gentleman; on the contrary says Johnson he is generally branded very deeply with the mark of his Profession, now ‘tis the Essence of A Gentleman’s Character to have no professional mark whatever

p. 198] Mr Johnson was indeed very unjustly supposed to be a Lover of Singularity - a man particular in his notions, and difficult in his Morality - whereas no Man had ever so settled a reverence for the World, & its Opinions; nor was less captivated by new Modes of Behaviour or Innovations in the Conduct of Life: - Cards, Dress, Dancing all found their Advocates in Johnson, who inculcated upon Principle the Cultivation of Arts which others reject as Luxuries, or consider as Superfluities - Somebody would say - Such a Lady never touches a Card - how then does She get rid of her Time says Johnson, does She drink Drams? Such a Person never suffers Gentlemen to buzz in his Daughter’s Ears; who is to buzz in her Ears then? - the Footman! Such a one dresses particularly plain always - He thinks himself then of more importance than he is; if he forbears to carry the Badge of his Rank upon his Back - the World has no Business to be teized to find Reasons for Respecting a Man who will not declare his Situation by his Dress, and he must be content with the little Attention that will necessarily be paid him for his neglect.

p. 203] Johnson has been often in the Course of these wretched Gleanings compared to Rousseau; he resembled him however in two Things more important than any I have mentioned yet - his Fear of Death, & his high Notions of the hard Task of Christianity - He never thinks that he has done or can do enough, - and dreads the Time when he shall be beaten with many Stripes - Le vrai Chretien says Jean Jacques - in the same Spirit - trouve tous Jours son Tache audessus de soi

p. 224] Seward said he would not be married because he was not in Love - never wait for that said I; no do not Sir cries Johnson, too much Love does as much mischief among married People as too little; - Marriage is more a League at last of Friendship than of Love.

p. 228] Doctor Trapp wrote the following Epigram on the King’s sending a Library of Books to Cambridge, & a Regiment of Horse to Oxford.

Our Royal Master saw with heedful Eyes

The wants of his two Universities;

To Oxford sent he Troops, as knowing why

That learned Body wanted Loyalty:

But Books to Cambridge gave, as well discerning

That that right loyal Body - wanted learning.

Mr Johnson was repeating the above Verses to Sir William Browne the Physician with a triumphant Air one day as they both dined with Dr Lawrence in Essex Street: when Sir William who was a Whig, a Wit, & as the Phrase is - a great Character said they might we well answered thus;

Our King to Oxford sent his Troop of Horse,

For Tories own no Argument but Force;

With equal Care to Cambridge Books he sent,

For Whigs allow no Force - but Argument.

How infinitely superior is the last! And Improviso - too! -

p. 242 21 March 1778] …it was but last Week I read a new York Advertisement of Perfumery for the Ladies, Anodyne Necklaces for Teething Children, & some new fashioned Sweet meats, fit says the Confectioner for a very elegant Table. Now does not all this prove to a Demonstration that Publick Occurrences affect not private Felicity? The Ladies would not be perfuming their Persons, nor the Confectioner puffing his Wares, if there was any real Consternation or distress. - History is at best a magnifying Glass; but if we wear Spectacles of such Property every day, we shall forget the face of Nature as it is; and expect to find every Flea as large as a Lobster.

p. 248] I myself like Smollet’s novels better than Fielding’s; the perpetual Parody teizes one; - there is more Rapidity & Spirit in the Scotsman: though both of them knew the husk of Life perfectly well - & for the Kernel - you must go to either Richardson or Rousseau.

p. 258] … it appears to me that as in the natural World the nicest Proportion has been strictly kept between the Centripetal & the Centrifugal Force, so as to preserve us on the one hand from being fasten’d to the Ground, & on the other - from being scattered into empty Space; so has our Attachment to this Life & our Aspiration to a better been in the Moral Dispensation most accurately balanced. - Were our Love of heaven for example much more intense, & our desires much more strongly directed thither; the duties of our Station would be left undone, & all reciprocation of Kindness or Attention utterly neglected: If on the other Side our present Enjoyments were found sufficient to produce that Felicity of wch our Nature is confessed to be capable; Heaven itself would soon appear superfluous, and all our Affections be of course concentrated to the dark Spot of Earth which we inhabit. But it is not so. - let the Voluptuary strain his Senses to the utmost - he never finds the Result at all to equal his Expectation; &

let the Enthusiast burst his Brain with Raptures of Coelestial Pleasure, he still feels the Necessities of Nature drag him back to Mortality, and acknowledges it when he loses either his Fortune, health, or Friends.

p. 316 Apr. - May 1778] And now a sharp Contest for Southwark, and a Borough Winter, which of all other Things I most abhor; was like to be the End of my fatigues. To Streatham however we first return’d, kissed our Kids; left them all as we left them before, only adding hester to the Stock - and hurried to Town to quiet the Minds of our Constitutents who were run mad with Republican Frenzy, and had made choice of a half American Representative. [William Lee of the Virginia Lees]

p. 321 May 1778] With regard to my Children they are all under eight Years old, except the eldest Girl; who would doubtless consider her Mother’s Death as a Riddance from Company she cannot like, but is obliged to keep some hours every day. She does not even pretend to love me, and for my Part I respect her sincerity: - nobody ever did love their Mother as I did, unless perhaps My Father & my Uncle; but in our Affection there was little Virtue! my mother was an Angel upon Earth, and is now an angel in Heaven! -

…..The Person of her who writes these Memoirs is so little that the Description of it ought by no means to be large: The Height four feet eleven only… Strength & not Delicacy was the original Characteristick of the Figure. By keeping genteel Company however, and looking much at Paintings, learning to Dance almost incessantly, and chusing Foreign Models, not English Misses as patterns of Imitation; some Grace has been acquired …The Character of her Mind… is almost wholly Italian, or rather Welch perhaps; - for her Temper is warm even to irascibility….. By Nature a rancorous and revengeful Enemy, but having conquered that Quality thro’ God’s Grace; She is now apt really & bona fide to forget when & how She was offended….

p. 356 10 January 1779] Mr Thrale is fallen in Love really & seriously with Sophy Streatfield - but there is no wonder in that: She is very pretty, very gentle, soft & insinuating; hangs about him, dances round him, cries when She parts from him, squeezes his Hand slyly, & with her sweet Eyes full of Tears looks so fondly in his Face - & 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 but an It to resist such Artillery -

P364] Mr Scrase told me once that when a Man came to die, he commonly preferred his Relations to any one else, in the Distribution of his Money I mean:- Not says Scrase because he thinks them better People, but because having been disgusted by almost everybody, he returns to them who disgusted him the longest while ago. Mr Scrase is an Attorney retired from business; he is a Man of more acute parts, and keen penetration than I think I ever yet saw; quite unadorned however with Literature and unembellished with Elegance: but it may be well said of him that

He strikes each point with native Force of Mind,

While puzzled learning labours far behind.

For Judgement unclouded with prejudice, Sense unentangled with Error; and Steady Friendship unbiassed by Interest - give me Charles Scrase of Brightelmstone.

p. 363 Jan. 1779] Fanny Burney has gained such Credit by her Evelina that Mr Sheridan invites her to write for the Stage, and her Scoundrel Bookseller having advertised the Sylph [attrib. To Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire] along with it lately, and endeavouring to make the World believe it hers; Mrs Leveson runs about the Town saying how clever Miss Burney must be! & what Knowledge of Mankind She must have! Knowledge of Mankind! In good Time; the Sylph is an obscene novel, and more Knowledge of Mankind is indeed wanting to’t than any professed Virgin should have.

P 367 Feb 1779] Mr Thrale is making me a Cold Bath; I am very fond of Bathing, and think it an extremely beneficial Thing to general health… tis such a Friend to Beauty & to Love! Smoothing the Skin, illuminating the Complexion, exciting Ideas of such perfect Cleanliness, bracing up everything that frequent Pregnancy relaxes - I only wonder the Women use it so little, & that the Men can be pleased with those who never use it at all.

p. 369 10 Feb 1779] In the Spirit of fighting Battles they know will be lost, seem to be all the proceedings of the King & his Tory Ministers against the Minority and Wig Opposition, for these last seven or ten Years: I wish they may not by their unskillfulness kindle a Civil War nearer than that they have blown up in America - Ireland is hourly expected to revolt.

p. 386]… says Johnson a Woman has such power between the Ages of twenty five and forty five, that She may tye a Man to a post and whip him if She will. I thought they must begin earlier & leave off sooner, but he says that ‘tis not Girls but Women who inspire the violent & lasting passions - Cleopatra was Forty three Years old when Anthony lost the World for her.

Mrs Cholmondeley’s Powr is still felt & acknowledged now at fifty Years old - but then She is a singular instance.

p. 394 July 1779] This Summer is still hotter and drier than the last; I never knew any thing so surprizing as the Weather has been these last two Years. We are now as much oppressed with heat I am told as are the people at Naples - Sure our Climate has undergone some odd Change & from some invisible and inexplicable Cause.

p. 423] Says Sir Thomas Robinson to Dr James; I sometimes see double Sir, what would you advise me to do at such Times?

Count your Money - replied the Physician.

p. 425] When I read the Character of Cambray [ Francis Fenelon] in this Collection [Spence’s Anecdotes] I could not keep from falling on my Knees to give God Thanks for having created such a Man: It is a common Trick with me to kiss a Book that particularly pleases me - Oh this Dear Bishop of Cambray! how willingly could I kiss his Robe!

p. 429 1780] Macaroni is the Cant Phrase here in England this very Winter 1780. Every thing finical & paltry is called Macaroni now among us - ‘tis the Phrase of the Day.

p. 439] How capricious a Thing is Voice! The Folks who sing best, often have an unpleasing Utterance in Conversation; & those who know nothing of Musick charm one with their Tones; of all the voices that I have ever heard, none are so round, so full, so sweet, so manly, as the Voice of the Bishop of Peterborough.

Footnote: Johnson says tis the Voice of a Carpenter in a Work Shop. Mrs Thrale.

p. 440] How all the World is rushing on to its own Ruin! Nations & Individuals, & all! The English Constitution is I think at last fairly finished, & my Lady Britannia has cut her own Throat: - the Cause of this rash Action (according to the News paper phrase) is not yet know - but the Coroner’s Inquest brought in their Verdict Lunacy.

Mr Thrale is eating himself into an Apoplexy, spite of Friends, Physicians, & common Sense… …My Spirits are really affected by the Sight of horrors thus accumulate on horrors, & the Country hastening so to Bankruptcy & Demolition… that form of Government which Montesquieu celebrates, & Falkland bled for, demands a Tear or two: Poor Thing! I am sincerely sorry for thy Death. Liberty & Virtue are at last ill exchanged for Commerce & extent of Dominion.

p. 456 17 Sept. 1780] The loss of America is not felt yet, Mr Jenkinson says, like enough replied I - the blow given by a Stone falling in a Lake is not perceived at the Shores till some time after its first Concussion.

We talked of the Constitution - tis dead said I - or sleeps rather, & for my own Part, I wish it a good Night: - but in that sleep of Death what dreams may come!

p. 457 re words found in the Journal or Analect Book of the lately deceased chaplain of Admiral Keppel’s Ship] … to the following Purport - That Admiral Keppel said on the 25th or 26th of July 1778 when the French Fleet was in Sight - I think we are stronger than they, rather stronger; I think we could beat them, I’m sure we could: but it would [be] rivetting this Damned Ministry in their Places for ever!!

Suivez, as Rousseau says, la Chaine de tout cela.

p. 475 10 Jan 1781] Tis now Time to turn over a new Leaf for the great Orator Mr Edmund Burke - who - after I had ran from Gentleman’s house to Gentleman’s house all over Wales in the Year 1774 - was the first Man I had ever seen drunk, or heard talk Obscaenely - when I lived with him & his Lady at Beaconsfield among Dirt Cobwebs, Pictures and Statues that would not have disgraced the City of Paris itself: where Misery & Magnificence reign in all their Splendour, & in perfect Amity.* That Mrs Burke drinks as well as her Husband, & that their Black a moor carried Tea about with a cut finger wrapt in Rags, must help to apologise for the Severity with which I have treated so very distinguished a Character.

See Burke’s bright Intelligence beam from his Face,

To his Language give Splendor - his Action give Grace;

Let us list to the Learning that Tongue can display,

Let is steal all Reflexion, all Reason away;

Lest home to his House we the Patriot pursue,

Where Scenes of another Sort rise to our View;

Where Meanness usurps sage Oeconomy’s Look,

And Humour cracks Jokes out of Ribaldry’s Book;

Till no longer in Silence, Confession can lurk,

That from Chaos and Cobwebs could spring even Burke.

‘Twas by Accident thus deep conceal’d in the Ground,

And unnotic’d by all the proud Metal was found;

Which exalted by Place, and by Polish refin’d,

Can comfort, corrupt, and confound all Mankind.

* Irish Roman Catholics are always like the Foreigners somehow: dirty & dressy, with their Clothes hanging as if upon a Peg.

p. 477 Bother’d a common Street Phrase - originally Irish: it means I believe merely the being teized with unmeaning Gabble: the derivation is apparently from Both-ear’d, to be plagued by Nonsense driven at once into BothEars.

p. 487 Apr. 1781] Mr Thrale talks now of going to Spa & Italy again: how shall we drag him thither? A Man who cannot keep awake four Hours at a Stroke, who can scarce retain the Faeces &c. Well! This will indeed be a Tryal of one’s Patience; & who must go with us on this Expedition? Mr Johnson! He will indeed be the only happy Person of the party: he values nothing under heaven but his own Mind, which is a Spark from Heaven; & that will be invigorated by the addition of new Ideas - if Mr Thrale dies on the Road, Johnson will console himself by learning how it is to travel with a Corpse - & after all, such Reasoning is the true Philosophy - one’s heart is a mere Incumbrance - Would I could leave mine behind…

If I dye abroad I shall leave all my Papers in Charge with Fanny Burney; I have at length conquered all her Scruples, & won her Confidence & her Heart: ‘tis the most valuable Conquest I ever did make, and dearly, very dearly, do I love my little Tayo, so the People at Otaheite call a Bosom Friend.

No Danger of all these Distresses it seems. Mr Thrale died on the 4th of April 1781.

p. 492 Streatham 1: May 1781] I have now appointed three Days a Week to attend at the Counting house, & wish I could defecate my Mind of Borough Dirt, when I pass the Laystalls at the Stones End; but it will not be yet, it will not be -

The vile Ideas where I fly pursue:

Rise in the Grove, even in the Thicket rise,

Stain all my Soul, and grovel in my Eyes.

If an Angel from Heaven had told me 20 Years ago, that the Man I knew by the Name of Dictionary Johnson should one Day become partner with me in a great Trade, & that we should jointly or separately sign Notes Draughts &c for 3 or 4 Thousand Pounds of a Morning, how unlikely it would have seemed ever to happen! - unlikely is no Word tho’ - it would have seemed incredible: neither of us then being worth a Groat God knows, & both as immeasurably removed from Commerce, as Birth Literature & Inclination could set us. Johnson however; who desires above all other Good the Accumulation of new Ideas, is but too happy with his present employment; & the Influence I have over him added to his own solid Judgment and Regard for Truth, will at last find it in a small degree difficult to win him from the dirty Delight of seeing his Name in a new Character flaming away at the bottom of Bonds & Leases.

My eldest Daughter one Day at Brightelmstone challenged me to make French Verses impromptu - I had been making English ones to divert her: - She was low-spirited, and had the Worms beside: it was in the Library where the Loungers sit; I went to the Table & wrote down this Nonsense directly.

Ah que ce Jour traine en longueur!

Faisons des Vers pour nous delasser:

Mademoiselle reprit - A la bonne heure!

Pour Vers je pourroit bien m’en passer.

Miss Owen & Miss Burney asked me if I had never been in Love; with myself said I, & most passionately. When any Man likes me I never am surprized, for I think how should he help it? When any Man does not like me, I think him a Blockhead, & there’s an End of the matter.

Sophy Streatfield is an incomprehensible Girl; here has She been, telling me such tender passages of what pass’d between her & Mr Thrale - that She half frights me somehow; at the same Time declaring her Attachment to Vyse - yet her willingness to marry Ld Loughboro.

Good God! What an uncommon girl! & handsome almost to Perfection I think, delicate in her Manners, soft in her Voice, & strict in her Principles: I never saw such a Character, She is wholly out of my Reach: & I can only say that the Man who runs mad for Sophy Streatfield has no Reason to be ashamed of his Passion: few People however seem disposed to take her for Life. Every body’s Admiration as Mrs Byron says and nobody’s Choice.

p. 502 July 1781] What a Blockhead Dr Burney is, to be always sending for his Daughter home so! What a Monkey! Is not She better and happier with me than She can be any where else? Johnson is enraged at the silliness of their Family Conduct, and Mrs Byron disgusted: I confess myself provoked excessively but I love the Girl so dearly - & the Dr too for that matter, only that he has such odd Notions of superiority in his own house, & will have his Children under his Feet forsooth rather than let ‘em live in Peace, Plenty & Comfort any where from home…

Dr Burney did not like his Daughter should learn Latin even of Johnson who offered to teach her for Friendship, because then She would have been as wise as himself forsooth, & Latin was too Masculine for Misses - a narrow Souled Goose-Cap the man must be at last; agreeable and amiable all the while too beyond allmost any other human Creature. Well! Mortal Man is but a paltry Animal! The best of us have such Drawbacks both upon Virtue Wisdom & Knowledge.

Dr Burney values himself on having refused his eldest Daughter’s Company to Mr Lyttelton 20 Years ago, and what did the Wench do better? Marry an Ideot did She not? get Brats & starve as Otway says - Silly, Silly, Silly.

p. 517 30 Oct. 1781] The unnatural Vice among the Men (now so modish) appears to me to owe its vehemence to the same Cause; [i.e. concealed thoughts leading to wickedness or madness] they cannot talk of this internal Torment, so after having glutted their vile Imaginations for some Time; the Senses take Alarm, & burst out with uncontrolable Frenzy: as in Bickerstaff, Onslow, & Lady Fanny Burgoyne’s Footman, who attacked a grave Man of 50 years old in a gross Manner even before his Lady’s Face at the very Chariot door. The Scotch seem strangely addicted to this Enormity, & ‘tis a cold Country too: - I can think of no Reason but one - their wearing Fillibegs.

p. 524 Jan. 1782] Hester is… deficient enough in the petite morale: not caressing, not even attentively polite; never appearing pleased either with herself or Companions, She will not I fancy be a sought-for Character. I shall not live though to see whether She is such or no - My Life is every instant in Danger from the Apoplexy which has destroyed my whole Family, & now holds his Club over my Head. May it but strike the blow strong enough to procure my instant Dismission, not leave me stunned & stupefied: a Model of Misery & a Load upon my Successors! Disorders run in Blood I am convinced of it; My Grandfather, my Father - his three Brothers - my Son, all died in less than four Hours from their Seizure; and now my poor Self apparently of an Apoplectick Habit quite apparently; full, red, and Sanguineous. Very odd! Ay & very shocking! My Face is all over Pimples like a Drunkard, - twere better have a Hump-back.

p. 541 Aug. 1782, in footnote] I begin to see (now every thing shews it) that Johnson’s Connection with me is merely an interested one - he loved Mr Thrale I believe, but only wish’d to find in me a careful Nurse & humble Friend for his sick and his lounging hours: yet I really thought he could not have existed without my Conversation forsooth. He cares more for my roast Beef & plumb Pudden which he now devours too dirtily for endurance: and since he is glad to get rid of me, I’m sure I have good Cause to desire the getting Rid of him.

p. 550] Brightelmstone 19: Nov 1782] What is above written, [agonising about marrying Gabriel Piozzi in the teeth of Queeney’s opposition] tho’ intended only to unload my heart by writing it, I shew’d in a Transport of Passion to Queeney & to Burney - sweet Fanny Burney cried herself half blind over it: said there was no resisting such pathetic Eloquence, & that if She was the Daughter instead of the Friend, She should be even tempted to attend me to the Altar. But that while She possessed her Reason, nothing should seduce her to approve what Reason itself would condemn: that Children, Religion, Situation, Country & Character - besides the Diminution of Fortune by the certain Loss of 800£ a Year were too much to Sacrifice to any One Man; if however I were resolved to make the Sacrifice A la bonne Heure! It was an astonishing Proof of an Attachment, very difficult for Mortal Man to repay.

I will talk no more of it.

p. 553] What, (says Sir Philip Jennings Clerke to an old Soldier in Chelsey College,) did you think of the Battle of St Lucie? [1778] I think please your Honour, returns the pensioner that it was as pretty a Battle as ever you laid your Eyes on; - did General Meadows behave handsomely to you? Says Sir Philip again - Lord Sir replies the Soldier Genl Meadows is so worthy a Gentleman we would all have gone to Hell with him with Pleasure.

Fine brutal Courage!

p. 570 Aug. 1783] The two youngest [sisters] have for ought I see Hearts as impenetrable as their Sister, they will all starve a favourite Animal, all see with Unconcern the Afflictions of a Friend: and when the Anguish I suffered on their Account last Winter in Argylle Street nearly took away my Life and Reason, the younger ridiculed as a Jest, those Agonies which the eldest despised as a Philosopher. When all is said, they are exceeding valuable Girls: - beautiful in Person, cultivated in Understanding and well principled in Religion: high in their Notions, lofty in their Carriage, and of Intents equal to their Expectations: wishing to raise their own Family by Connections with some more noble - and Superior to every Feeling of Tenderness which might clog the Wheels of Ambition. What however is my State? Who am condemned to live with Girls of this disposition - to teach without Authority, to be heard without Esteem; to be considered by them as their Inferior in Fortune, while I live by the Money borrowed from them; and in good Sense when they have seen me submit my Judgment to their, tho’ at the hazard of my Life & Wits.

Oh ‘tis a pleasant Situation! & whoever would wish as the Greek Lady phrased to teize himself & repent of his Sins: - let him borrow his Children’s money, be in Love against their Interest & Prejudice, forbear to marry by their Advice; - and then shut himself up and live with them.

p. 572 Aug. 1783] …surrounded by his Enemies [Piozzi, “my sposo separato”] and my Tormentors, I live a Life of Vigilance & Constraint, ill suiting a liberal & expanded Mind; which conscious of no Ill ought to fear no Inspection.

The hardness of my Companion’s Hearts however increases my Willingness to leave them: when we were at Portland, (the three Girls, Harry Cotton & myself;) we climbed a Precipice the which with much ado they conquered; but My strength failed me within about Six yards of the Top; when seeing them safe, I intreated their Assistance, and threw them by my Request into a most vehement & unmanageable Fit of Laughter: Harry Cotton however tried to compose his Countenance, & turning to the Ladies I hear him say, As to helping her that’s all Stuff you know. - Mrs Thrale (to me) won’t you come up? I bore wholly on my Elbow and Thumb, but was incapable of stirring as any Change of Position must have inevitably produc’d a Fall from the Heighth, which I could never have recovered: - I beseeched Sophy at last to call a Fellow who kept Sheep upon the Hill and he came just in Time to save me, while the Misses & the Macaroni Gentleman laughed delighted at my Distress - protested they could not help it &c. and when I gave the Clown five shillings for his Assistance said Six Pence was enough - perhaps it might said I; but I am not used to have my Life rated at so low a Price, & that was all the Reproach I gave them for a Behaviour too savage to be repeated.

But Oh that I had Wings like a Dove (thought I,) and then would I flee away & be at rest!

Vol 2 p. 615 Nov. 1784] … I took Voltaire’s Works out of her Closet [ the daughter of the Consul at Genoa] and charged her never more to look in such Books as She confessed had often poysoned her Peace, & put her on a Train of Thinking which as I told her could end only in Offence to God, and Sorrow to herself - but how does one’s Abhorrence encrease of these Traitors to Human Kind! Who rob Youth of its Innocence; and Age of its only Consolation: who spurn at offered Salvation themselves, and turn others from the Gate that leads to Eternal Life. - I hear the Plague is got into Europe, and am little astonished at it; in the latter Days come Scoffers Wars & Pestilence.

p. 618 Tis astonishing how like these Lombards are to our Welch People! The low ones in particular: I saw a Signor Curato the other day at the Country Seat of an agreeable Family near Milan - I could not keep from looking at the Man, & expecting him to speak Welch: his long straight Hair, ruddy colour, & coarse Manners all contributed to make one stare at the striking Resemblance; but ‘tis amazing that the slyness of Shopkeepers, & the quiet tho’ cutting Replies of the ordinary People, should be so very similar in Nations who never proposed each other as Patterns of Imitation…

p. 629 Jan 1785] I see the English Newspapers are full of gross Insolence to me; all burst out - as I guess’d it would - upon the Death of Dr Johnson. But Mr Boswell, (who I plainly see is the Authour) should let the Dead escape from his Malice at least. I feel more shocked at the Insults offered to Mr Thrale’s Memory, than at those cast on Mr Piozzi’s Person. My present Husband thank God is well, & happy; & able to defend himself: but dear Mr Thrale, that had fostered these cursed Wits so long! - to be stung by their Malice even in the Grave is too Cruel.

[The passage which gave Mrs Piozzi offence (a commentary on Thomas Tyers’s assertion that “Mrs Thrale knew how to spread a table with utmost plenty and elegance”) read as follows: “All who are acquainted with this Lady’s domestick History must know that, in the present Instance, Mr Tyers’s Praise of her is unluckily bestowed. Her Husband superintended every Dinner set before his Guests. After his Death she confessed her total Ignorance in culinary Arrangements. Poor Thrale studied an Art of which he loved the Produce, and to which he expired a Martyr. Johnson, repeatedly, and with all the Warmth of earnest Friendship, assured him he was nimis edax rerum, and that such unlimited Indulgence of his Palate would precipitate his End. Little did he think his Intemperance would have proved an Introduction to his Wife’s Disgrace, by eventually raising an obscure and penniless Fiddler into sudden Wealth and awkward Notoriety.” In fact this passage is not by Boswell, as Mrs P. initially thought, but by George Steevens - with whom Mrs P had fallen out in 1777 after he had boasted to Johnson of having written “A Political Alphabet” - a poem actually written by Mrs P!]

Vol 2 p 631 Milan. 10: Feb: 1785] I have seen a Play, & Opera acted by Fryars; - the Monks of St Victor… The Jokes were course, & trivial, & little capable of diverting any body but Babies, or Men who by a sort of intellectual Castration contrive to perpetuate Childhood in order to preserve Innocence.

…….. The Brothers… resembled Welch Farmers exactly - with straight Hair, grave Deportment, & Countenances full of intelligent Slyness & arch Penetration - The County People hereabouts all seem to have been transplanted from Merioneth, or Caernarvonshire; they like my Person, & fancy me some thing approaching to pretty - I dare say it is because I have the Welch Physiognomy so strongly marked in my Face & Features.

p. 637 March 1785] & Shall I not be revenged on such a Nation as this? As says the Prophet of the Lord. But indeed Vengeance is coming on them with hasty Strides; I hope I shall have Time to view the Monuments of ancient & Modern Art before they are all destroyed by the Judgments of an incensed Creator, & then retire with my virtuous Husband untainted by their Crimes, to Some Corner of the Earth: - any corner, where Christianity is tolerate in a purified State; and Moral Virtue is not become ridiculous. I have always been partial to Peter as elder brother, tho’ I acknowledge him neither for Padre nor Monsignore: but I shall now be a follower of dear Martin as much from preference as from being born and educated where his Heaven-dictated Reformation is the established Church.

p. 639] The Works of Man may be great & lovely: Apollo de Belvedere however, or Venus de Medici soon fade from one’s Remembrance, & leave the Cascade of Terni, and Gloom of Pozzuoli indelibly impressed. Of all I have seen - Venice most pleased, & Naples most astonished me: Rome is dazzling without Sublimity in its Materiale, and Splendid without being Majestic in its Religious Functions. Gold & Glare, pomp & Pageantry soon sicken the Observers of Life & Manners, who seek for Images that will not tarnish, and Truths which will never decay. Such Happiness had I once in the Company of dear Doctor Johnson, whose Knowledge of the World I now find to have been nearly intuitive, excepting only that he never could perswade himself to think Mankind as wicked as I have since found them to be.

p. 654 3 July 1786 At Naples the people seem all merry and fat, dirty rude, and savage like their Prince; [Ferdinand IV] who rides, & rows, and catches Fish and sells it, and eats Macaroni with his Fingers - resolves to be happy himself & make no Man miserable: when the Emperor & the Grand Duke talked to him of their future Projects, he replied that they might do their way - but he would do his: that he had not now an Enemy in the World, public or private: & that for the sake of establishing new Doctrines which he did not understand, he would not make himself any - so invited them to come the next Day, & see him play a Game at Tennis. -

I love the King of Naples!-

p. 682 21: May 1787] London is larger & more lovely than ever, the increasing Population, Riches, & Splendour are scarce credible; and its Superiority to all other Capital Cities very striking.

p. 740 1 Apr. 1789] Nature does get strangely out of Fashion sure enough: One hears of Things now, fit for the Pens of Petronius only, or Juvenal to record and satyrize: The Queen of France is at the Head of a Set of Monsters call’d by each other Sapphists, who boast her Example; and deserve to be thrown with the He demons that haunt each other likewise, into Mount Vesuvius.

That Vice increases hourly in Extent - while expected Parricides fright us no longer, & we talk familiarly among ourselves how King George’s Extinction would certainly have followed the appointment of his own two Sons to the Government of our Nation, and to the Head of our Army.

p. 750] Mr Piozzi likes Wales better than Mr Thrale did. - It is a heavenly Country: I think the Cumberland Lakes, & Westmoreland Mountains, far below our sweet Vale of Llywydd [Clwyd] for Beauties of Scenery; nor do I recollect ought upon the Continent superior to the variety exhibited in the Views from Garthvino; or the great Burst from the rough Top of Bryn Dmyerchion. [the site chosen later for their residence, Brynbella]

p. 770 17: June 1790 Streatham] The Monster is caught. Who can She mean by the Monster? Cries whoever reads this Farrago. Why all this Spring a Man has gone about London Streets in dark Evenings stabbing pretty Girls if he could catch one walking alone; to which Enormity was added by the Perpetrator some Expressions of a peculiar Cast; cruel, indecent, & undeserved…. Many Women were cut in the Streets; some of whom being ugly, were ashamed to tell on’t, & others were wounded in odd Places, & said nothing for fear of Ridicule, the Poyson of which is certainly far worse than his Dagger who par Eminence was called the Monster, and is now taken & proved to be Member of some unnatural Society, who hold Females in Abhorrence. There is a strange Propensity now in England for these unspeakable Sins. Mrs Damor a lady much suspected for liking her own Sex in a criminal Way… [Anne Damer, the sculptress]

Vol 2 p 788 Dec 1790 No Bishop, no King: the old Calvinistical Cry, in England, now roars loudly in France; but I somehow fancy ‘tis but a temporary Judgement on a Court so impious as theirs has been. The little Dauphin will enjoy perhaps greater Power than his Ancestors themselves, for Anarchy has a natural Tendency to finish in Despotism; and France after She has been bent backward so long, will feel her Elastic Force & restore herself speedily.

789 Our Anglican Church stands like the Rock among the Rapids of Niagara - like that tis a Concretion formed by the falling Earth - & like that it will stand - please God! - in spite of the roar all round it.

Colonel Barry is a very showy talking Man: full of general Knowledge; & an acute, as well as vigorous Reasoner - Irish headed however, & Irish-voiced; & tho’ a Literary Person by Profession, having published many small Performances, none of them disgraceful to a Gentleman or a Scholar [ inc. The Advantages which America derives from her.. Dependence on Britain, NY 1775] - says - I would not be surprized: in Conversation, - for I should not be surprized. How odd! & I could have went instead of I could have gone all’Irlandese.

692 Hanover Square 11: Octr 1787] Why do the People say I never loved my first Husband? ‘tis a very unjust Conjecture. * This day on which 24 years ago I was married to him never returns without bringing with it many a tender Remembrance: though ‘twas on that Evening when we retired together that I was first alone with Mr Thrale for five Minutes in my whole Life. Ours was a Match of mere Prudence; and common good Liking, without the smallest Pretensions to Passion on either Side: I knew no more of him than of any other Gentleman who came to the House, nor did he ever profess other Attachment to me, than such as Esteem of my Character, & Convenience from my Fortune, produced. I really had never past five whole Minutes Tete a Tete with him in my Life till the Evening of our Wedding Day, - & he himself has said so a Thousand Times. Yet God who gave us to each other , knows I did love him dearly; & what honour I can ever do to his Memory shall be done, for he was very generous to me.

*Queeney believed it. Writing to Fanny Burney (then Mme d’Arblay) in 1813, she said: ‘We have often agreed that her [Cecilia] & I have been the great sufferers from having been so much more exposed to injuries from a quarter where it was least to be expected in the common course of Nature. She is convinced it was from original and persevering dislike and real hatred of us all, from her hatred of our father, and certainly her general conduct to the whole family strongly savours of that nature.’ Lansdowne, Johnson and Queeney, pxxv.

704 7th Jan, 1788] Hoare’s Son has written a Tragedy - a Whorson Tragedy said Sophia Lee when She heard on’t.

I diverted my Friend Mrs Lewis while at Reading with reviewing my own Book, and imitating the Style of those I expect to abuse it: Here is the Performance, and I question whether my Enemies will do better.

Monthly Review for April or May 1788

Letters to & from Dr Johnson published by H: L: Piozzi

The Care and Attention with which we have review’d this Work, was rather excited by our long Expectation of it, than repaid by the Instruction or Amusement it affords; let it not however be consign’d to Oblivion without a few Remarks on its Excellencies & Defects, which to say Truth are neither of them numerous, & we should do the Publick double Injury in covering much paper with Criticisme upon what the Rambler himself would call Pages of Inanity. For who can it benefit, or who can it please? To hear in one Letter that Poor Mrs Salusbury has had a bad night, and that little Sophy’s Head ach’d all Yesterday? If our fair Editress publish’d this Correspondence to shew with how much Insipidity people famed for the Wit & their learning might maintain a twenty Years Intercourse by Letter and Conversation: She has succeeded admirably - but we have some little Amends made us by the six more animated Letters at the End directed to Miss Boothby whose Epitaph written by her Nephew Brooke Boothby Esqr is elegant enough. [Sir Brooke Boothby had earnestly requested Mrs Piozzi not to publish Johnson’s letter to his aunt - “I shall be greatly grieved to see the ridiculous Vanities and fulsome Weakness’s, which he always betray’d in his conversation and Address with his amiable female friends, exposed…“] The World will however be probably but little interested concerning the slippery Bowels of an old pious Lady long since dead - perhaps the strong or weakly constitutions of the living Miss Thrales may be of more Importance to some Men, but our Reviewers are unluckily not among the Number. We shall conclude by confessing that the Correspondence bears every mark of being genuine, that Mrs Piozzi appears very confident of Success, & careless of what may be said concerning her Publication; that there are some brilliant Passages, and some solid Reflections scattered up & down the book but that upon the whole we find eight or ten Shillings very ill bestowed upon a few loosely-printed Pages stamped with Johnson’s Name, which after all can no more render them current than the Druid on the Paris mine Peny; it may like that Peny be laid up as curious by some Collectors, but must never hope to circulate as either useful or common.

714 4 April 1788] Ladies now wear the Figure of a Negro in Wedgwoods Ware round their Necks, the Inscription these Words

Am I not a Man & a Brother?

So the great Heiresses in the next Generation will perhaps be usefully perswaded by their Patriotic Mothers to find the African Blackamoors equally fit for a Man & a Husband.

757 17 Feb. 1790] I was saying this was the Time for the Women to shine, tis likewise the Shining-Season for Children: Little Bridgetower [George Augustus Polgreen Bridgetower, a musical prodigy, who made his London debut on Feb 19, 1790] - a Boy not quite ten Years old plays on the Violin like a 1st rate performer - and as the best proof of his Merit, - is paid like one. Bridgetower is a Mulatto, Son to a Polish Dutchess we are told - and to an African Negro, the handsomest of his Kind & Colour ever seen. The Father is with him, wears an Eastern Habit, and has an Address so peculiarly, so singularly fine, no Words will easily describe it. Lofty Politeness, & vivacious Hilarity, were never so combined in any human Creature that I have hitherto met with. Splendid Acquirements too, with an astonishing Skill in Languages, & such Power of Conversation as can scarce be destroyed by his own Rage of displaying it, adorn the Manners of the Father; who were he less wonderful would please better. As it is, half his Companions are provoked by this manifest & self-conscious Superiority - the other half admire in Silence, and hardly dare express their Delight for fear of being censured by the wise ones who cry out Impostor unjustly enough - for the man is all he pretends to be, a Black o’Moor of infinite Talents: did they apprehend his being rapacious to Obtain Money, & profuse to spend it, I should be of their Minds: - and perhaps try to hold my own Purse fast, tho’ a fortuitous Life like his affords better Vindication of a self-gratifying Spirit, than the settled security in which we sit sullenly, and speak harshly of a wandring Adventurer.

Poor Bridgetower! That thou art a fine Fellow I can see, that thou art a Scoundrel I can only believe - but how in nature thou shouldst be an honest Man, I certainly cannot imagine.

814 Sept 1791, suggested tour itinerary by Mrs P. for her husband, Marquis Trotti & Mr Bucchetti including] Bodvel the Place of my Nativity, in good Time! & came round by Caernarvon Bangor & Conway to Anglesea, where the Paris Mine is an Object of rational Curiosity, & Baron Hill of Admiration as I am told.

823 Oct 1791] What shall we say about the native Power of Pathos! Is there, or is there not any such native Power! Did ever Indian or Infant weep at a dismal Story? Unless they had been previously taught to consider weeping as a Distinction? I know Children will be affected at a melancholy Tale after as much Cultivation as suffices to make them suppress what I verily believe is the true natural Passion, when something sad is related or seen: - namely genuine uninstructed Laughter. - Mr Greatheed says I am a Misanthrope, & ‘tis half true perhaps - but who that knows Mankind, can love them?*

*nobody is half as willing to serve their Neighbours as I am - but as to having a good Opinion of their Virtue - how can I? Would one wait to do a Fellow-Creature Kindness, till he was prov’d an honest Man - he wd die unserv’d I believe.

841 Here begins the 6th and last vol. of Thraliana] ’Tis now nearly sixteen Years since this Farrago was first begun to be compiled under the name of Thraliana, & surely the Retrospect of it is such as would on perusal rather deter than encourage one as to keeping an Analect Book; so madly selected, so awkwardly put together, are the Scraps of which it is composed. …I’ll e’en finish this last Volume of Anecdotes & store up no more Stuff. Could I do it more respectably than the others are done, I would not; for what signifies changing Character in the Close of Life? - let us at least superannuate naturally - The Catastrophe should in any wise be worthy of the Farce.

…The Kings Proclamation for suppressing the Growth & Progress of a seditious Spirit gone forth among a particular Class of People, seems a wise & good measure: may it be efficacious!

856 March 1793 Streatham Park] A new & strange Event for Thraliana - The Miss Thrales have been to visit Mrs Piozzi. What an Honour!! What a Favour! What a Wonder!

Well! The King of France died pardoning & pitying all those who had tortured his Soul & Body, a great Pattern for us all. God give me Grace so to follow his bright Example as to obtain Remission of my own Offences.

864 10th Aug 1793] So here is the tenth of August commemorated with a Vengeance - The unhappy Queen of France loses her Life this Day* on the same Scaffold where was martyr’d her most innocent and blameless Husband the beginning of this Year, No, No. No. No. And will not the Lord be avenged of such a Nation as that? I think he will, and signally. May my Lord Howe be found worthy in some Measure to be an Instrument for the punishing these unheard of Crimes by blowing the French Fleet into the Air.

[* Unfounded rumour. She was not guillotined until October 16th.]

868] Tis my Scourge to think better both of the World & of all the Individuals in it than they deserve: that House of Miss Rathbone’s is now supposed to have been but a Cage of unclean Birds, living in a sinful Celibat. Mercy on us! Colonel Barry is with Lord Moyra ;[head of expeditionary force to aid the royalists in Brittany] he had a good Escape of Miss Trefusis if all be true.

Footnote] Why was Miss Weston so averse to any Marriage I am wondering; and why did Miss Trefusis call Colonel Barry Hylas of all names? And why did Miss Weston make such an Ado about little Sally Siddons’s Wit & Beauty & Stuff? The Girl is just like every other girl - but Miss Weston did use to like every Girl so.

870] There is a Passage in Blainville’s Travels relating to an Inscription somewhere in Italy, I have forgotten the Place; which has these Words. - Moro per Amor d’un Cento, cinque, cinquanta, e Zero - an Enigma. I’m afraid I understand it exceedingly well. How beastly is the meaning!!

912 1st March 1795] …here is worse New still, Earl Fitzwilliam’s Administration in Ireland was popular & pleasing; the People were grown loyal & happy, & now the King as if inspired with a Sudden Resolution to ruin himself & us, recalls the only Vice Roy that has ever pleased the Irish since my Time, repeals the Decrees which contented them so comfortably - confounds his Ministers, who will probably go out of Office; strengthens declining Opposition, & provokes our own Island of Ireland to accept Freedom & Fraternity from the French, who desire no better than to bestow it on them as they have done upon Holland.

914 Susanna Thrale wrote Cecy word from Brightelmstone that altho’ London was Contagious, She should be happy to go there; for there was not a tolerable Man left in the County of Sussex. What Times! What Expressions are these!!!

917 Mr Yorke of D’Affrenalli [ i.e. Dyffryn Aled!] has been introduced to me as a Wit & a Flasher…

936 Conscience, set up as a sufficient Monitor by those who despise Revelation, what a capricious odd Thing it is! When Kit Blake a Man of Wit and Pleasure about Town towards 20 or 25 Years ago, who had committed Sins of every Sort I should suppose, could not (as he told Murphy) die in Peace, because he had once given his Horse a Pail of Water slyly, in order to make him lose the Race at Newmarket, & increase the Odds at Ascot, by which might win six or seven Thousand Pounds - a rascally Trick to be sure, but white I should imagine, compared to many others had play’d in the Course of a Life lost by Dissolute Manners & the Vices consequent on gross Sensuality. In Mrs Brownrigg the Murderer’s Case too, how very strangely Conscience forbore to operate! When Sentence of Condemnation was pass’d on her for whipping her wretched Apprentices to Death - the Council heard her exclaim with Admiration; All this for a Parish Girl! Apparently astonished - as if it was no matter whether a Parish Girl was killed or not. Aristocratic Maxims more horrible & dangerous, could not be promulgated in Turkey sure.

943 Brinbella 27: Octr 1795] All goes as it should do except Public Affairs - here are strong Dispositions towards Rioting, & they have threatened to stick poor Pennant’s Head upon a Pike - What Rascals! His Literature, his Virtue, his Piety, - his Charity & perpetual Almsgiving will not perhaps secure his Safety and his Peace What horrible Times are these!

946 Brynbella 25: Nov; 1795] On this Day our fair Daughters are all gone away together: They have behaved very well; not loving Piozzi, nor liking Mostyn, nor approving the Connection Caecilia has made with one - and I with the other, it was no easy task to behave very well, yet all went as it shoud do without fawning & without Rudeness - with no assumed Transports of Delight, and no expressions or even Appearance of Disgust: of so much Use is Good Breeding. I really delight unfeignedly in the Company of Miss Thrale: She is a person greatly to my Taste, independent of relationship or Vanity:- not so my sweet Susette, though very amiable; Sophia & I have more Ground in common than She or Caecilia have, and Cecy is so very self-sufficient; - She is an offensive companion to any one - or I should think so.

951 Jan. 1796] So the Count D’Artois is settled a wretched Pensioner upon Great Britain, & takes up his Residence in Scotland: The Sodomitish Sea doth cast out her Fish* as Esdras heard that it would…

France - spiritually called Sodom & Egypt - (most justly;) teems with Monsters : - & the Blood drops warm from the Guillotine. See the 5th 7th & eighth Verses of the 2d Book of Esdras 5th Chapter & the 21st Verse of the 6th Chapter.

* They are very stinking Fish indeed, very wicked Wretched all these emigrant Princes for ought I see. But ‘tis more curious to reflect that Paris means originally Par Isis, so if Rome is Scripture Babylon France may be Scripture Egypt.

966 26 Aug. 1796] I went to Church to day & heard Welch Prayers; I often do: from that general Analogy that there is among all Languages I can follow thro’ ye Service exceeding well.

967 Cecy Mostyn is a foolish Girl, & cannot rule her own Household - all our unfashionable Neighbours cry Shame! To see Mason her Maide with Child by the Master of the Mansion [John Meredith Mostyn of Segrwyd] - & the Gay Mistress protecting this Partner in her Husband’s Person because it is the Way She says; & all those who understand genteel Life think lightly of such Matters. When I offered to speak my antiquated Sentiments upon the subject, She forbid me (smartly) to say another Word about it; & told my Maid that if Mrs Piozzi plagued her any more concerning such Nonsense She would leave the House - into wch she never came to say the Truth - except for mere Conveniency. - So God a’ mercy Cecy! And Sophia to whom I told the Tale, writes me word that her Sister (in her Opinion) acted perfectly right. Strange conduct!

968 Nov. 1796 I hope with gods Help from him [Murphy] to get her [Cecilia, who had eloped with Mostyn] a monstrous Settlement - & then who cares? - why I shall care even then; for I detest these Fashionable Liberties, & Bon Ton Airs: They lead to Unhappiness in this World - to Hell in the next. I did hope when Cecy married a Country Gentleman, She would have been out of these modish Temptations - Going to that cursed Town London last Spring was her Ruin & his too.

I have been reading Dr Moore’s Edward [1796] & Cumberland’s Henry [1795] - Both have made choice of a deserted Boy’s Life to weave into a Novel & both have done it well. Doctor Moore is ever elegant and unaffected, but he is unaffecting too: yet he knows Manners & describes them justly. His Portrait of Barnet I think admirable, so is Colonel Snug; but as such people do nothing, so Nothing can be related of them. The Resemblance is exact, but must necessarily be insipid: Edward is a most desirable Character, firm, manly, wise and virtuous: but he does too little somehow, & suffers too little; We want more Pepper than this Authour gives, his Characters lie too close to the Level of one’s Eye, and his Adventures have in them too little of Adventure. His constant Care to set our Sex in an advantageous Light from genuine Esteem & Love of Women as it plainly appears - must not bribe me to give yt Preference to his Novel over that of Cumberland, whose Ladies are all vicious for ought I see, at least strangely prone to lewdness *- more than Life exhibits in England, - so far as I have been capable of observing: but something always did whisper to my heart, that Cumberland liked the Masculine Gender best, I have given a hint on’t in this Book somewhere a vast many Years ago, and all his Manner, and all his Works confirm my old Suspicion. Meanwhile our rival Authour is ever bordering, confining all he dares upon Profaneness - The dubious Moore loves a little Democratic Doctrine in Religious as in Political Speculations; & leans toward the Infidel Side on every Argument, on every Occasion - so does not Bentley’s Orthodox & pious Grandson: his Village Preacher Ezekiel Daw delights me most exceedingly, & his Death bed of Blachford soars a Flight beyond his Antagonist’s Powers to follow. The little Midshipman too, the Seafight, all the 3rd Vol: of Henry is incomparable; and three Volumes might have comprized the Whole - I hate spinning out these Cobweb Stories too long: the Denouement is best in Moore’s Zeluco, and D’Arblaye’s last Book of Camilla [1796] is not bad: but Charlotte Smith’s Emmeline beats them all at an Ending. Here however I’ll end my Criticism, for as Benvolio says in Shakespeare’s Play

Peace, Peace, Mercutio Peace, thou talk’st of nothing.

* I recollect nothing done by Cumberland’s Women except snatching at Fellows, either for Marriage or for worse. While Dr Moore’s Laura Seidlitz unites a hundred Excellencies; & Mrs Barnet is a Model of Conjugal Virtue joined to a most liberal & Noble Spirit. When Dr Moore describes a handsome Youth he does it as a Man does, who cares nothing for his Beauty, but as it may interest another: Cumberland dwells upon the personal charms of his Heroes always with a luscious fondness exceedingly particular, as if he were in Love with them himself. The same is to be observed in Vathek a Romance written by Beckford with much Invention, but then Beckford is a Professor of Paederasty.

974 1 Sept. 1797 …They are astonishing Girls. After writing the most insolent Letter possible to Mr Piozzi about Me; Cecy came here gay & airy with her vast Belly, flying about in a new Equipage &c. and I of Course returned her Visit, but saw not the Master of the House. I suppose they live well together now - but here has been a grievous Disappointment - The Boy could not be brought alive -- Cecy recovers however & all will be well.

But I hate these Country Accoucheurs - these Demi Savans: They are so forward to produce their Instruments. A London Hospital would have saved this Child I doubt not, tho’ the Birth was laborious. I find there was no wrong Presentation, only a Lentor in the pains perhaps - With Opium & Encouragement, & not putting her too soon upon Labour, I verily do think that a skilful Practitioner might have brought the Baby forward with the Forceps at worst - but they are so plaguy hasty. - Either Doctor Denman or an old Woman would have waited - but since the horrid death-doing Crotchet has been found out, & its use permitted Oh! Many & many a Life has been flung away. Mr Mostyn however, Enemy as he is to me, must on this Occasion be pitied. He spared no Expense, no Trouble: he called in help 30 Miles round the country….

It has been a horrid Business altogether.

Vol 2 p 965 Doctor Johnson mentions my Mother’s Beauty, & her Love of Literature; & tells of Mr Thrale’s Noble Contempt for the Noise of the Vulgar - surely he cannot think any of those Qualities recommendatory of a Xtian to his Maker. Stuff.

Vol 2 p. 978 ‘Tis very good what St Pierre [Etudes de la Nature] says of Taste - The Rich says he are pleased with Fiction almost always, the Poor with Truth. Read a Play to a Working Person if ‘tis a Tragedy he will weep - but was the Story true? Enquires he after all? No, not true - The Fellow turns away half angry that you made him shed His Tears in vain so. Read it to the Gentleman, he delights in so elegant an Invention, & thanks you for shewing him a New Mode of possible Misery; he was afraid that they were all exhausted.

The poor man expects his Happiness from Realities, - The Rich can hope for his, only in Illusion.

P. 1000 Oct. 1799] …There never was so expensive or so gay a Winter known … in London as this last - a Fact all Ranks agree in.*

* Hannah Moore’s fine Book about young Ladies & their Education is admirable - Incomparable! But ye Westminster Boys I am told burned her in Effigy for writing against the Dissipation of Youth [ in On Female Education 1799]

Never so cold so cruel a Winter neither - or one followed by so singularly bad a Summer, not one Warm Day, - no not one: till this 7th of Septr the Hay all spoild, the Corn uncut - The Fruit incapable of ripening very dreadful! & most dreadful People’s odd appearance of Perswasion that all goes well, because Swarroff [Suvarov] beats ye French in Italy Nonsense!!! Nothing goes well but Apples in ye Cyder Counties.

11th October 1799] To me however - ungrateful as I am to heaven - & worthless in its Sight - all has gone well sure. Here have I been these 36 Years a married Woman this Day: & never had Cause to find Fault with either of my Husbands…

1002 Brynbella 10: March 1800] We are returned safe from Bath where we have gained some Health & enjoy’d some Pleasure… Shrewsbury & Llangollen entertained us on our Way home; & we have ye Happiness of having fed 30 poor Families this Winter, which without us must have perished. The Oatmeal is 2 Guineas o’ Hobbet - every thing else in proportion: Some Poor people in Caernarvonshire have subsisted only on Grains & Buttermilk. Tremendous Times!! The Soup Establishment however is a Good one, & rich ffolks do appear to take no small pains to keep their Cottagers from starving.

1025 May 1801] That a slow Pulse indicates Long Life is most particularly interesting to me in the whole Book: [Hufeland’s Art of Prolonging Life] but adds he, those who fear to dye, can never live long. Horresco referens. ‘Tis a droll Tale too that of the wise Man asking ye young one - where are you going? To drown myself, is the Reply: you had better return home & read my Book on Suicide answerd ye Philosopher. Lord Sir! Exclaims the Youth, I have read it: it was ye Dulness of yt stupid Dissertation drove me away to the River.

Vol 2 p 1036 If I dye tomorrow - I have now seen S: Wales, and very suprizingly beautiful it is. The Drive from Ross to Monmouth, from Monmouth to Abergavenny - but above all, the country between Abergavenny & Brecon, is wonderfully elegant & picturesque. Grongar Hill & the Vale of Uske deserve all that has been said or sung of them. Sea bathing is nowhere so admirable as at Tenby, and crossing the Principality to come home; ev’ry Step afforded a new & singular Landschape. Kader Idris, Bala, Dolgelley & Machynlleth are Places beyond all Praise, and nearer than the Tyrol Alps nothing can exceed them. I am glad we went that Tour from Bath & London & Cheltenham in the Year 1802. We never shall be able to go so far again: Mr Piozzi’s Gout grows upon him…

Here is a sad Cry concerning the Methodists: many People fancy them disguised Jacobins - They haunt our Counties here Denbigh & Flint prodigiously. We have an active Bishop now - Horsley - [Bp of St Asaph 1802-6] but I fear he will confine his Talents to the House of Lords; - He might do more good amongst us; but he has I believe the low People’s natural Prejudice in disfavour of Wales - They always hate any Place 300 Miles from London.

July 1803. Brynbella] Here is a Red-Hot War begun again by Buonaparte - against his only, his unally’d Opponent, poor old England!! - & how the Tyrant boasts himself, Oh Lord! Listen to his Blasphemies and our Petitions - I humbly pray; yt so the dreadful Day may be defer’d.

p. 1039 footnote] When I am reading Watts or Locke, or Paschal - or La Bruyere - I shut the Book, informed but little, tis true; - yet filled with Admiration of the Authors, & well disposed to reverence Mankind, as little lower than the Angels &c. Oh wondrous Race of wise tho’ fallen Beings! I exclaim. - but when I come down Stairs among my Workmen, & hear them talk such Nonsense as they do - I cry What Monkeys are these great Philosophers to think Man was ordain’d for any thing except to beg God’s merciful Endurance of their Folly - & gain by Sweat & Toil their daily bread. A Sensible Fellow here - wisest amongst them - told me just now yt He had heard for certain, how Buonaparte was lost; & yt ye Dean of St Asaph was offering 20 Pounds a Man, whoever hereabouts should find him!!! These are the People too, not Locke & La Bruyere, for whom ye World was made, for whom Xt died - if indeed these are not too high a Class among the Ranks of Humanity - The Stone Mason who made me that senseless Speech is called an acute Fellow at his Business, & in fact is our Head Operator; making the Lodge & Pillars. Nor is he deeper far in Folly than a Woman who in the Riots of 1780 told me She knew it for a certain Fact that the Pope was at Bath, & lodged on St James’s Parade!!! If these Creatures have in very Deed rational Souls, how do they put them to sleep so? For these are by no means Instances of Ignorance; This is sheer Folly, or I know not what may be call’d so.

p. 1066 20 May 1805] Well! Here have I not 30 Pages more to fill of Thraliana since my first Husband presented me with the Book; and now my Books, & Hopes, and Prospects - are all closing round me, what have I learned since I began the World?

Just this I think - no more. That L’Anima, la Salute, e la Borsa are the only three Things worth caring about. That for the first no better can be done - than to trust in the Atonement, living meanwhile as if none had ever been made; for the last - to keep the goings out always less in Quantity than the comings in: and for the Middle one, to see that the puttings out do always exceed the flowings In of Food, Drink &c

They are really excellent Rules. R H:L:P.

Oh yes, I have learned another Thing - That any Opinion may be broached if ‘tis not broached offensively; & that no Truth will be borne if told with Contempt of the Falsehood against which it militates.

p. 1078 25 Aug. - 1806] The Tour is over, it was a very pleasant one; I had forgotten much of the Romantic Scenery; & found it superior to my Expectations. The drive down Penmaenback and over Penmaen Mawr are extremely fine: The new Town of Tre Madoc interesting beyond Imagination & the Pont Aber Glas lyn beautiful even to Comparison with any thing among the Alps. Bethkelert and Capel kerig wonderful! & resembling the Monte St Juliano near the Bagni de Pisa - with Myrtle growing wild round the House - & Snowdon’s black Bosom opening as if to receive the now numerous Travellers which haunt North Wales since this Irish Union - My poor little Old Town of Pwllhely even vyes in Dignity & Splendor with Dirty Denbigh, which is fourscore Miles nearer England; and it will be a smart Seaport soon I dare say, when the fine new Road is made leading to Dublin thro’ Portyn Llaen. The Accommodations at every Inn mend every hour, & Sublimity will soon give Place to Convenience - While Commerce with his levelling Plough breaks down the Warrior’s Camp and Druid’s Cromlech, into a smooth Way for Waggons Mail Coaches and a long Et Caetera.

Vol 2 p. 1078 from Stanzas from Wales 1806.

…Next where Tre Madoc, Infant Town!

Wond’ring surveys her strong Promotion,

Whose modern Romulus makes known

How Industry can tame an Ocean.

…Next wind up Capel Kerig’s Heights

Where Commerce weds the Muse unwilling;

Her Contemplation’s loftiest Flights

Broke by Disputes about a Shilling.

Yet Commerce Smooths the Mountain’s Brow,

His Arts restrain the dashing Fluid;

No Nook sequester’d ‘scapes Him now,

Nor Warrior’s Camp, nor Cave of Druid.

p. 1099 Feb: 1809] No Birthday kept, no Pleasure, no Comfort: poor Piozzi seems merely kept alive by Opium & Brandy; if we leave them off - Spasms & Sicknesses ensue: if we follow them up, Something dreadful will I fear ensue. - Must ensue:

30 March 1809] Every thing most dreaded has ensued, - all is over; & my second husbands Death is the last Thing recorded in my first husband’s present! Cruel Death!

[Mrs Piozzi’s 79th birthday - she counted it her 80th - was celebrated in Jan. 1820 in the Assembly Rooms at Bath, where the undiminished vigour of her intellect and the “astonishing elasticity” of her dancing was admired by the 600 guests. She died the following year. ]