Autobiography, Letters and Literary Remains of Mrs. Piozzi - BestLightNovel.com
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"DEAR SIR,--I am glad you confess yourself peevish, for confession must precede amendment. Do not study to be more unhappy than you are, and if you can eat and sleep well, do not be frighted, for there can be no real danger. Are you acquainted with Dr. Lee, the master of Baliol College? And are you not delighted with his gaiety of manners and youthful vivacity now that he is eighty-six years old? I never heard a more perfect or excellent pun than his, when some one told him how, in a late dispute among the Privy Counsellors, the Lord Chancellor (Thurlow) struck the table with such violence that he split it. 'No, no,' replied the Master, drily, 'I can hardly persuade myself that he _split the table_, though I believe he _divided the Board_.' Will you send me anything better from Oxford than this? for there must be no more fastidiousness now; no more refusing to laugh at a good quibble, when you so loudly profess the want of amus.e.m.e.nt and the necessity of diversion."
From him to her:
"Oxford, June 17th, 1782.
"Oxford has done, I think, what for the present it can do, and I am going slyly to take a place in the coach for Wednesday, and you or my sweet Queeny will fetch me on Thursday, and see what you can make of me."
Hannah More met him during this visit to Oxford, and writes, June 13th, 1782: "Who do you think is my princ.i.p.al cicerone at Oxford?
only Dr. Johnson! and we do so gallant it about."
Madame D'Arblay, then at Streatham, writes, June 26th, 1782: "Dr.
Johnson, who had been in town some days, returned, and Mr. Crutchley came also, as well as my father." After describing some lively conversation, she adds: "I have _very often_, though I mention them not, long and melancholy discourses with Dr. Johnson, about our dear deceased master, whom, indeed, he regrets unceasingly; but I love not to dwell on subjects of sorrow when I can drive them away, especially to you (her sister), upon this account as you were so much a stranger to that excellent friend, whom you only lamented for the sake of those who survived him." He had only returned that very day, and she had been absent from Streatham, as she states elsewhere, till "the Cecilian business was arranged," _i.e._ till the end of May.
On the 24th August, 1782 (this date is material) Johnson writes to Boswell:
"DEAR SIR,--Being uncertain whether I should have any call this autumn into the country, I did not immediately answer your kind letter. I have no call; but if you desire to meet me at Ashbourne, I believe I can come thither; if you had rather come to London, I can stay at Streatham: take your choice."
This was two days after Mrs. Thrale, with his full concurrence, had made up her mind to let Streatham. He treats it, notwithstanding, as at his disposal for a residence so long as she remains in it.
The books and printed letters from which most of these extracts are taken, have been all along accessible to her a.s.sailants. Those from "Thraliana," which come next, are new:
"_25th November_, 1781.--I have got my Piozzi[1] home at last; he looks thin and battered, but always kindly upon me, I think. He brought me an Italian sonnet written in his praise by Marco Capello, which I instantly translated of course; but he, prudent creature, insisted on my burning it, as he said it would inevitably get about the town how _he_ was praised, and how Mrs. Thrale translated and echoed the praises, so that, says he, I shall be torn in pieces, and you will have some _infamita_ said of you that will make you hate the sight of me. He was so earnest with me that I could not resist, so burnt my sonnet, which was actually very pretty; and now I repent I did not first write it into the Thraliana. Over leaf, however, shall go the translation, which happens to be done very closely, and the last stanza is particularly exact. I must put it down while I remember it:
1.
"'Favoured of Britain's pensive sons, Though still thy name be found, Though royal Thames where'er he runs Returns the flattering sound,
2.
Though absent thou, on every joy Her gloom privation flings, And Pleasure, pining for employ, Now droops her nerveless wings,
3.
Yet since kind Fates thy voice restore To charm our land again[2],-- Return not to their rocky sh.o.r.e, Nor tempt the angry main.
4.
Nor is their praise of so much worth, Nor is it justly given, That angels sing to them on earth Who slight the road to heaven.'
"He tells me--Piozzi does--that his own country manners greatly disgusted him, after having been used to ours; but Milan is a comfortable place, I find. If he does not fix himself for life here, he will settle to lay his bones at Milan. The Marquis D'Araciel, his friend and patron, who resides there, divides and disputes his heart with me: I shall be loth to resign it."
[Footnote 1: This mode of expression did not imply then what it might now. See _ante_, p. 92, where Johnson writes to "my Baretti."]
[Footnote 2: "Capello is a Venetian poet."]
"_17th December, 1781._--Dear Mr. Johnson is at last returned; he has been a vast while away to see his country folks at Litchfield. My fear is lest he should grow paralytick,--there are really some symptoms already discoverable, I think, about the mouth particularly.
He will drive the gout away so when it comes, and it must go _somewhere_. Queeny works hard with him at the cla.s.sicks; I hope she will be _out_ of leading-strings at least before he gets _into_ them, as poor women say of their children."
"_1st January, 1782._--Let me not, while censuring the behaviour of others, however, give cause of censure by my own. I am beginning a new year in a new character. May it be worn decently yet lightly! I wish not to be rigid and fright my daughters by too much severity. I will not be wild and give them reason to lament the levity of my life. Resolutions, however, are vain. To pray for G.o.d's grace is the sole way to obtain it--'Strengthen Thou, O Lord, my virtue and my understanding, preserve me from temptation, and acquaint me with myself; fill my heart with thy love, restrain it by thy fear, and keep my soul's desires fixed wholly on that place where only true joys are to be found, through Jesus Christ our Lord,--Amen.'"
_January_, 1782.--(After stating her fear of illness and other ills.) "_If_ nothing of all these misfortunes, however, befall one; _if_ for my sins G.o.d should take from me my monitor, my friend, my inmate, my dear Doctor Johnson; _if_ neither I should marry, nor the brewhouse people break; _if_ the ruin of the nation should not change the situation of affairs so that one could not receive regular remittances from England: and _if_ Piozzi should not pick him up a wife and fix his abode in this country,--_if_, therefore, and _if_ and _if_ and _if_ again all should conspire to keep my present resolution warm, I certainly would, at the close of the four years from the sale of the Southwark estate, set out for Italy, with my two or three eldest girls, and see what the world could show me."
In a marginal note, she adds:
"Travelling with Mr. Johnson _I_ cannot bear, and leaving him behind _he_ could not bear, so his life or death must determine the execution or laying aside my schemes. I wish it were within reason to _hope_ he could live four years."
"_Streatham, 4th January_, 1782.--I have taken a house in Harley Street for these three months next ensuing, and hope to have some society,--not company tho': crowds are out of the question, but people will not come hither on short days, and 'tis too dull to live all alone so. The world will watch me at first, and think I come o'
husband-hunting for myself or my fair daughters, but when I have behaved prettily for a while, they will change their mind."
"_Harley Street, 14th January_, 1782.--The first seduction comes from Pepys. I had a letter to-day desiring me to dine in Wimpole Street, to meet Mrs. Montagu and a whole _army of blues_, to whom I trust my refusal will afford very pretty speculation ... and they may settle my character and future conduct at their leisure. Pepys is a worthless fellow at last; he and his brother run about the town, spying and enquiring what Mrs. Thrale is to do this winter, what friends she is to see, what men are in her confidence, how soon she will be _married_, &c.; the brother Dr.--the Medico, as we call him--lays wagers about me, I find; G.o.d forgive me, but they'll make me hate them both, and they are no better than two fools for their pains, for I was willing to have taken them to my heart."
"They say Pacchierotti, the famous soprano singer, is ill, and _they say_ Lady Mary Duncan, his frightful old protectress, has made him so by her _caresses denaturees_. A little envy of the new woman, Allegrante, has probably not much mended his health, for Pacchierotti, dear creature, is envious enough. I was, however, turning over Horace yesterday, to look for the expression _tenui fronte_[1], in vindication of my a.s.sertion to Johnson that low foreheads were cla.s.sical, when the 8th Ode of the First Book of Horace struck me so, I could not help imitating it while the scandal was warm in my mind:
1.
"'He's sick indeed! and very sick, For if it is not all a trick You'd better look about ye.
Dear Lady Mary, prythee tell Why thus by loving him too well You kill your Pacchierotti?
2.
Nor sun nor dust can he abide, Nor careless in a snaffle ride, The steed we saw him mount ill.
_You_ stript him of his manly force, When tumbling headlong from his horse He pressed the plains of Fonthill.[2]
3.
Why the full opera should he shun?
Where crowds of critics smiling run, To applaud their Allegrante.
Why is it worse than viper's sting, To see them clap, or hear her sing?
Surely he's envious, ain't he?
4.
Forbear his house, nor haunt his bed With that strange wig and fearful head, Then, though he now so ill is, We o'er his voice again may doze, When, cover'd warm with women's clothes, He acts a young Achilles.'"
[Footnote 1: Insignem tenui fronte Lycorida Cyri torret amor--
But _tenuis_ is _small_ or _narrow_ rather than _low_. One of Fielding's beauties, Sophia Western, has a low forehead: another, f.a.n.n.y, a high one.]
[Footnote 2: _Note by Mrs. T.:_ "Fonthill, the seat of young Beckford. They set him o' horseback, and he tumbled off."]
"_1st February, 1782._--Here is Mr. Johnson ill, very ill indeed, and--I do not see what ails him; 'tis repelled gout, I fear, fallen on the lungs and breath of course. What shall we do for him? If I lose _him_, I am more than undone; friend, father, guardian, confident!--G.o.d give me health and patience. What shall I do?"
"_Harley Street, 13th April, 1782._--When I took off my mourning, the watchers watched me very exactly, 'but they whose hands were mightiest have found nothing:' so I shall leave the town, I hope, in a good disposition towards me, though I am sullen enough with the town for fancying me such an amorous idiot that I am dying to enjoy every filthy fellow. G.o.d knows how distant such dispositions are from the heart and const.i.tution of H.L.T. Lord Loughboro', Sir Richard Jebb, Mr. Piozzi, Mr. Selwyn, Dr. Johnson, every man that comes to the house, is put in the papers for me to marry. In good time, I wrote to-day to beg the 'Morning Herald' would say no more about me, good or bad."
"_Streatham, 17th April, 1782._--I am returned to Streatham, pretty well in health and very sound in heart, notwithstanding the watchers and the wager-layers, who think more of the charms of their s.e.x by half than I who know them better. Love and friends.h.i.+p are distinct things, and I would go through fire to serve many a man whom nothing less than fire would force me to go to bed to. Somebody mentioned my going to be married t'other day, and Johnson was joking about it. I suppose, Sir, said I, they think they are doing me honour with these imaginary matches, when, perhaps the man does not exist who would do me honour by marrying me! This, indeed, was said in the wild and insolent spirit of Baretti, yet 'tis nearer the truth than one would think for. A woman of pa.s.sable person, ancient family, respectable character, uncommon talents, and three thousand a year, has a right to think herself any man's equal, and has nothing to seek but return of affection from whatever partner she pitches on. To marry for love would therefore be rational in me, who want no advancement of birth or fortune, and _till I am in love_, I will not marry, nor perhaps then."
"_22nd August, 1782._--An event of no small consequence to our little family must here be recorded in the 'Thraliana.' After having long intended to go to Italy for pleasure, we are now settling to go thither for convenience. The establishment of expense here at Streatham is more than my income will answer; my lawsuit with Lady Salusbury turns out worse in the event and infinitely more costly than I could have dreamed on; 8000_l._ is supposed necessary to the payment of it, and how am I to raise 8000_l_.? My trees will (after all my expectations from them) fetch but 4000_l_., the money lent Perkins on his bond 1600_l_., the Hertfords.h.i.+re copyholds may perhaps be worth 1000_l_., and where is the rest to spring from? I must go abroad and save money. To show Italy to my girls, and be showed it by Piozzi, has long been my dearest wish, but to leave Mr. Johnson shocked me, and to take him appeared impossible. His recovery, however, from an illness we all thought dangerous, gave me courage to speak to him on the subject, and this day (after having been let blood) I mustered up resolution to tell him the necessity of changing a way of life I had long been displeased with. I added that I had mentioned the matter to my eldest daughter, whose prudence and solid judgment, unbia.s.sed by pa.s.sion, is unequalled, as far as my experience has reached; that she approved the scheme, and meant to partake it, though of an age when she might be supposed to form connections here in England--attachments of the tenderest nature; that she declared herself free and resolved to follow my fortunes, though perfectly aware temptations might arise to prevent me from ever returning--a circ.u.mstance she even mentioned herself.