We had a
noble dinner, and a most elegant dessert. Dr. Johnson, in the middle
of dinner, asked Mrs. Thrale what was in some little pies that were
near him.
"'Mutton,' answered she, 'so I don't ask you to eat any, because I
know you despise it.'
"'No, Madam, no,' cried he: 'I despise nothing that is good of its
sort; but I am too proud now to eat of it. Sitting by Miss Burney
makes me very proud to-day!'
"'Miss Burney,' said Mrs. Thrale, laughing, 'you must take great care
of your heart if Dr. Johnson attacks it; for I assure you he is not
often successless.'
"'What's that you say, Madam?' cried he; 'are you making mischief
between the young lady and me already?'
"A little while after he drank Miss Thrale's health and mine, and
then added:
"'Tis a terrible thing that we cannot wish young ladies well, without
wishing them to become old women.'"
Madame D'Arblay's memoirs are sadly defaced by egotism, and gratified
vanity may have had a good deal to do with her unqualified admiration
of Mrs. Thrale; for "Evelina" (recently published) was the unceasing
topic of exaggerated eulogy during the entire visit. Still so acute
an observer could not be essentially wrong in an account of her
reception, which is in the highest degree favourable to her newly
acquired friend. Of her second visit she says:
"Our journey was charming. The kind Mrs. Thrale would give courage to
the most timid. She did not ask me questions, or catechise me upon
what I knew, or use any means to draw me out, but made it her
business to draw herself out--that is, to start subjects, to support
them herself, and take all the weight of the conversation, as if it
behoved her to find me entertainment.
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