All I had heard of his eloquence, and all I had conceived of his

great abilities, was more than answered by his performance.

Nervous, clear, and striking was almost all that he uttered: the

main business, indeed, of his coming forth was frequently

neglected, and not seldom wholly lost , but his excursions were

so fanciful, so entertaining, and so ingenious, that no

miscellaneous hearer, like myself, could blame them. It is true

he was unequal, but his inequality produced an effect which, in

so long a speech, was perhaps preferable to greater consistency

since, though it lost attention in its falling off, it recovered

it with additional energy by some ascent unexpected and

wonderful. When he narrated, he was easy, flowing, and natural;

when he declaimed, energetic, warm, and brilliant. The

sentiments he interspersed were as nobly conceived as they were

highly coloured; his satire had a poignancy of wit that made it

as entertaining as it was penetrating; his allusions and

quotations, as far as they were English and within my reach, were

apt and ingenious - and the wild and sudden flights of his fancy,

bursting forth from his creative imagination in language fluent,

forcible, and varied, had a charm for my ear and my attention

wholly new and perfectly irresistible.

Were talents such as these exercised in the service of truth,

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unbiased by party and prejudice, how could we sufficiently

applaud their exalted possessor? But though frequently he made

me tremble by his strong and horrible representations,

his own violence recovered me, by stigmatizing his assertions

with personal ill-will and designing illiberality. Yet, at times

I confess, with all that I felt, wished, and thought concerning

Mr. Hastings, the whirlwind of his eloquence nearly drew me into

its vortex. I give no particulars of the speech, because they

will all be printed.

The observations and whispers of our keen as well as honest

James, during the whole, were highly characteristic and

entertaining.

"When will he come to the point?"-"These are mere words!"--"This

is all sheer detraction!"--"All this is nothing to the purpose!"

etc., etc.

"Well, ma'am, what say you to all this? how have you been

entertained?" cried a voice at my side; and I saw Mr. Crutchley,

who came round to speak to me.

"Entertained?" cried I, "indeed, not at all, it is quite too

serious and too horrible for entertainment: you ask after my

amusement as if I were at an opera or a comedy."

"A comedy?" repeated he, contemptuously, "no, a farce! It is not

high enough for a comedy. To hear a man rant such stuff. But

you should have been here the first day he spoke; this is milk

and honey to that. He said then, ' His heart was as black--as--

black!' and called him the captain-general of iniquity."

"Hush! hush!" cried I, for he spoke very loud; "that young man

you see down there, who is looking up, is his son."

"I know it," cried he, "and what do I care?"

How I knew Mr. Crutchley again, by his ready talent of defiance,

and disposition to contempt ! I was called aside from him by

James.

Mr. Crutchley retired, and Mr. Windham quitted his den, and

approached me, with a smile of good-humour and satisfaction that

made me instantly exclaim, "No exultation, Mr. Windham, no

questions; don't ask me what I think of the speech; I can bear no

triumph just now."

"No, indeed," cried he, very civilly, "I will not, I promise you,

and you may depend upon me."

He then spoke to James, regretting with much politeness that he

had seen so little of him when he was his neighbour in Norfolk,

and attributing it to the load of India business he had carried

into the country to study. I believe I have mentioned

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that Felbrig, Mr. Windham's seat, is within a few miles of my

brother-in-law, Mr. Francis's house at Aylsham.

After this, however, ere we knew where we were, we began

commenting upon the speech. It was impossible to refuse applause

to its able delivery and skilful eloquence; I, too, who so long

had been amongst the warmest personal admirers of Mr. Burke,

could least of all withhold from him the mite of common justice.

In talking over the speech, therefore, while I kept clear of its

purpose, I gave to its execution the amplest praise; and I

secretly grieved that I held back more blame than I had

commendation to bestow.

He had the good breeding to accept it just as I offered it,

without claiming more, or endeavouring to entangle me in my

approbation. He even checked himself, voluntarily, when he was

asking me some question of my conversion, by stopping short, and

saying, "But, no, it is not fair to press you; I must not do

that."

"You cannot," cried I, "press me too much, with respect to my

admiration of the ability of the speaker; I never more wished to

have written short-hand. I must content myself, however, that I

have at least a long memory."

He regretted very much that I had missed the first opening of the

speech, and gave me some account of it, adding, I might judge

what I had lost then by what I had heard now.

I frankly confessed that the two stories which Mr. Burke had

narrated had nearly overpowered me; they were pictures of cruelty

so terrible.

"But General Caillot," cried he, smiling, "the hero of one of

them, you would be tempted to like: he is as mild, as meek, as

gentle in his manners--"

I saw he was going to say "As your Mr. Hastings;" but I

interrupted him hastily, calling out, "Hush! hush! Mr. Windham;

would you wish me in future to take to nothing but lions?

FURTHER CONVERSATION WITH MR. WINDHAM.

We then went into various other particulars of the speech, till

Mr. Windham observed that Mr. Hastings was looking up, and, after

examining him some time, said he did not like his countenance. I

could have told him that he is generally reckoned extremely like

himself but after such an observation I would not venture, and

only said, "Indeed, he is cruelly altered: it

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was not so he looked when I conceived for him that prepossession

I have owned to you."

"Altered, is he?" cried he, biting his lips and looking somewhat

shocked.

"Yes, and who can wonder? Indeed, it is quite affecting to see

him sit there to hear such things."

"I did not see him," cried he, eagerly "I did not think it right

to look at him during the speech, nor from the committeebox; and,

therefore, I constantly kept my eyes another way."

I -had a great inclination to beg he would recommend a little of

the same decency to some of his colleagues, among whom are three

or four that even stand on the benches to examine him, during the

severest strictures, with opera-glasses. Looking at him again

now, myself, I could not see his pale face and haggard eye

without fresh concern, nor forbear to exclaim, "Indeed, Mr.

Windham, this is a dreadful business!" He seemed a little struck

with this exclamation; and, lest it should offend him, I hastened

to add, in apology, "You look so little like a bloody-minded

prosecutor, that I forget I ought not to say these things to

you."

"Oh!" cried he, laughing, "we are only prosecutors

there--(pointing to the committee-box), we are at play up here."

. . .

I wished much to know when he was himself to speak, and made

sundry inquiries relative to the progress of the several

harangues, but all without being comprehended, till at length I

cried, "In short, Mr. Windham, I want to know when everybody

speaks."

He started, and cried with precipitancy, "Do you mean me?"

"Yes."

"No, I hope not; I hope you have no wants about my miserable

speaking?"

I Only laughed, and we talked for some time of other things; and

then, suddenly, he burst forth with, "But you have really made me

a little uneasy by what you dropped just now."

"And what was that?"

"Something like an intention of hearing me."

"Oh, if that depended wholly on myself, I should certainly do

it."

"No, I hope not! I would not have you here on any account. If

you have formed any expectations, it will give me great concern."

"Pray don't be uneasy about that; for whatever expectations

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I may have formed, I had much rather have them disappointed."

" Ho! ho!--you come, then," cried he, pointedly, "to hear me, by

way of soft ground to rest upon, after the hard course you will

have been run with these higher-spirited speakers?" . . . He

desired me not to fail to come and hear Fox. My chances, I told

him, were very uncertain, and Friday was the earliest of them.

"He speaks on Thursday," cried he, "and indeed you should hear

him."

"Thursday is my worst chance of all," I answered, "for it is the

Court-day."

"And is there no dispensation ? " cried he ; and then,

recollecting himself, and looking very archly at Mr. Fox, who was

just below us, he added, "No,--true--not for him!"

"Not for any body!" cried I; "on a Court-day my attendance is as

necessary, and I am dressed out as fine, and almost as stiff, as

those heralds are here." I then told him what were my Windsor

days, and begged he would not seize one of them to speak himself.

"By no means," cried he, quite seriously, "would I have you

here!--stay away, and only let me hope for your good wishes."

" I shall be quite sincere," cried I, laughing, "and own to you

that stay away I shall not, if I can possibly come; but as to my

good wishes, I have not, in this case, one to give you!"

He heard this with a start that was almost a jump. "What!" he

exclaimed, "would you lay me under your judgment without your

mercy?--Why this is heavier than any penal statute."

He spoke this with an energy that made Mr. Fox look up, to see to

whom he addressed his speech: but before I could answer it, poor

James, tired of keeping his promised circumspection, advanced his

head to join the conversation; and so much was I alarmed lest he

should burst forth into some unguarded expression of his vehement

hatred to the cause, which could not but have irritated its

prosecutors, that the moment I perceived his motion and

intention, I abruptly took my leave of Mr. Windham, and surprised

poor James into a necessity of following me.

Indeed I was now most eager to depart, from a circumstance that

made me feel infinitely awkward. Mr. Burke himself was just come

forward, to speak to a lady a little below me; Mr. Windham had

instantly turned towards me, with a look of congratulation that

seemed rejoicing for me, that the orator

Page 126

of the day, and of the cause, was approaching,; but I retreated

involuntarily back, and shirked meeting his eyes. He perceived

in an instant the mistake he was making, and went on with his

discourse as if Mr. Burke was out of the Hall. In a minute,

however, Mr. Burke himself saw me, and he bowed with the most

marked civility of manner; my courtesy was the most ungrateful,

distant, and cold ; I could not do otherwise ; so hurt I felt to

see him the head of such a cause, so impossible I found it to

titter one word of admiration for a performance whose nobleness

was so disgraced by its tenour, and so conscious was I the whole

time that at such a moment to say nothing must seem almost an

affront, that I hardly knew which way to look, or what to do with

myself.(267)

'

In coming downstairs I met Lord Walsingham and Sir Lucas Pepys.

"Well, Miss Burney," cried the first, "what say you to a

governor-general of India now?"

"Only this," cried I, "that I do not dwell much upon any question

till I have heard its answer!"

Sir Lucas then attacked me too. All the world against poor Mr.

Hastings, though without yet knowing what his materials may be

for clearing away these aspersions!

Miss FUZILIER LIKELY TO PECONIE MRS, FAIRLY,

February.-Her majesty at this time was a little indisposed, and

we missed going to Windsor for a fortnight, during which I

received visits of inquiry from divers of her ladies--Mrs.

Brudenell, bed-chamber woman; Miss Brudenell, her daughter, and a

maid of honour elect, would but one of that class please to marry

or die; Miss Tryon and Miss Beauclerk, maids of honour, neither

of them in a firm way to oblige Miss Brudenell, being nothing

approaching to death, though far advanced from marriage; and

various others.

Miss Brudenell's only present hope is said to be in Miss

Fuzilier,(268) who is reported, with what foundation I know not,

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to be likely to become Mrs. Fairly. She is pretty, learned, and

accomplished ; yet, from the very little I have seen of her, I

should not think she had heart enough to satisfy Mr. Fairly, in

whose character the leading trait is the most acute sensibility,

However, I have heard he has disclaimed all such intention, with

high indignation at the report, as equally injurious to the

delicacy both of Miss Fuzilier and himself, so recently after his

loss.

THE HASTINGS TRIAL AGAIN: MR. FOX IN A RAGE.

And now for my third Westminster Hall, which, by the queen's own

indulgent order, was with dear Charlott and Sarah. It was also

to hear Mr. Fox, and I was very glad to let Mr. Windham see a

"dispensation" was attainable, though the cause was accidental,

since the queen's cold prevented the Drawing-room.(269)

We went early, yet did not get very good places. The managers at

this time were all in great wrath at a decision made the night

before by the Lords, upon a dispute between them and the counsel

for Mr. Hastings, which turned entirely in favour of the

latter.(270) When they entered their committee-box, led on as

usual by Mr. Burke, they all appeared in the extremest and most

angry emotion.

When they had caballed together some time, Mr. Windham came up

among the Commons, to bow to some ladies of his acquaintance, and

then to speak to me ; but he was so agitated and so disconcerted,

he could name nothing but their recent provocation from the

Lords. He seemed quite enraged, and broke forth with a vehemence

I should not much have liked to have excited. They had

experienced, he said, in the late decision, the Most injurious

treatment that could be offered them: the Lords had resolved upon

saving Mr. Hastings, and

the chancellor had taken him under the grossest protection.

Page 128

"In short," said he, "the whole business is taken out of our

hands, and they have all determined to save him."

"Have they indeed?" cried I, with Involuntary eagerness.

"Yes," answered he, perceiving how little I was shocked for him,

"it is now all going your way."

I could not pretend to be sorry, and only inquired if Mr. Fox was

to speak.

"I know not," cried he, hastily, "what is to be done, who will

speak, or what will be resolved. Fox is in a rage! Oh, a rage!"

"But yet I hope he will speak. I have never heard him."

"No? not the other day?"

"No; I was then at Windsor."

"Oh yes, I remember you told me you were going. You have lost

every thing by it! To-day will be nothing, he is all rage! On

Tuesday he was great indeed. You should have heard him then.

And Burke, You should have heard the conclusion of Burke's

speech; 'twas the noblest ever uttered by man!"

"So I have been told."

"To-day you will hear nothing--know nothing,--there will be no

opportunity,- Fox is all fury."

I told him he almost frightened me; for he spoke in a tremor

himself that was really unpleasant.

"Oh!" cried he, looking at me half reproachfully, half

goodhumouredly, "Fox's fury is with the Lords--not there!"

pointing to Mr. Hastings.

I saw by this he entered into my feelings in the midst of his

irritability, and that gave me courage to cry out, "I am glad of

that at least!:

Mr. Fox spoke five hours, and with a violence that did not make

me forget what I had heard of his being in such a fury but I

shall never give any account of these speeches, as they will all

be printed. I shall only say a word of the speakers as far as

relates to my own feelings about them, and that briefly will be

to say that I adhere to Mr. Burke, whose oratorical powers appear

to me far more gentleman-like, scholar-like, and fraught with

true genius than those of Mr. Fox. it may be I am prejudiced by

old kindnesses of Mr. Burke, and it may be that the countenance

of Mr. Fox may have turned me against him, for it struck me to

have a boldness in it quite hard and callous. However, it is

little matter how much my judgment in this point may err. With

you, my dear friends, I have

Page 129

nothing further to do than simply to give it ; and even should it

be wrong, it will not very essentially injure you in your

politics.

MRS. CREWE, MR. BURKE, AND MR. WINDHAM.

Again, on the fourth time of my attendance at Westminster Hall,

honest James was my esquire.

We were so late from divers accidents that we did not enter till

the same moment with the prisoner. In descending the steps I

heard my name exclaimed with surprise, and looking before me, I

saw myself recognised by Mrs. Crewe. "Miss Burney," she cried,

"who could have thought of seeing you here!"

Very obligingly she made me join her immediately, which, as I was

with no lady, was a very desirable circumstance; and though her

political principles are well known, and, of course, lead her to

side with the enemies of Mr. Hastings, she had the

good sense to conclude me on the other side, and the delicacy

never once to distress me by any discussion of the prosecution.

I was much disappointed to find nothing intended for this day's

trial but hearing evidence; no speaker was preparing; all the

attention was devoted to the witnesses.

Mr. Adam, Mr. Dudley Long, and others that I know not, Came from

the committee to chat with Mrs. Crewe; but soon after one came

not so unknown to me--Mr. Burke; and Mrs. Crewe, seeing him

ascend, named him to me, but was herself a little surprised to

see it was his purpose to name himself, for he immediately made

up to me, and with an air of such frank kindness that, could I

have forgot his errand in that Hall, would have made me receive

him as formerly, when I was almost fascinated with him. But far

other were my sensations. I trembled as he approached me, with

conscious change of sentiments, and with a dread of his pressing

from me a disapprobation he might resent, but which I knew not

how to disguise.

"Near-sighted as I am," cried he, "I knew you immediately. I

knew you from our box the moment I looked up; yet how long it is,

except for an instant here, since I have seen you!"

"Yes," I hesitatingly answered, "I live in a monastery now."

He said nothing to this. He felt, perhaps, it was meant to

express my inaccessibility.

Page 130

I inquired after Mrs. Burke. He recounted to me the particulars

of his sudden seizure when he spoke last, from the cramp in his

stomach, owing to a draught of cold water which he drank in the

midst of the heat of his oration.

I could not even wear a semblance of being sorry for him on this

occasion; and my cold answers made him soon bend down to speak

with Mrs. Crewe.

I was seated in the next row to her, just above.

Mr. Windham was now talking with her. My whole curiosity and

desire being to hear him, which had induced me to make a point of

coming this time, I was eager to know if my chance was wholly

gone. "You are aware," I cried, when he spoke to me, "what

brings me here this morning

No;" he protested he knew not.

Mrs. Crewe, again a little surprised, I believe, at this second

opposition acquaintance, began questioning how often I had

attended this trial.

Mr. Windham, with much warmth of regret, told her very seldom,

and that I had lost Mr. Burke on his best day.

I then turned to speak to Mr. Burke, that I might not seem

listening, for they interspersed various civilities upon my

peculiar right to have heard all the great speeches, but Mr.

Burke was in so profound a reverie he did not hear me.

I wished Mr. Windham had not either, for he called upon him

aloud, "Mr. Burke, Miss Burney speaks to you!"

He gave me his immediate attention with an air so full of respect

that it quite shamed me.

"Indeed," I cried, " I had never meant to speak to Mr. Burke

again after hearing him in Westminster Hall. I had meant to keep

at least that " geographical timidity."

I alluded to an expression in his great speech of "geographical

morality" which had struck me very much.

He laughed heartily, instantly comprehending me, and assured me

it was an idea that had occurred to him on the moment he had

uttered it, wholly without study.

A little general talk followed; and then, one of the lords rising

to question some of the evidence, he said he must return to his

committee and business,-very flatteringly saying, in quitting his

post, "This is the first time I have played truant from the

manager's box."

However I might be obliged to him, which sincerely I felt, I was

yet glad to have him go. My total ill will to all he was about

made his conversation merely a pain to me.

Page 131

I did not feel the same With regard to Mr. Windham. He is not

the prosecutor, and seems endowed with so much liberality and

candour that it not Only encourages me to speak to him what I

think, but leads me to believe he will one day or other reflect

upon joining a party so violent as a stain to the independence of

his character.

Almost instantly he came forward, to the place Mr. Burke had

vacated.

"Are you approaching," I cried, "to hear my upbraidings?"

"Why--I don't know," cried he, looking half alarmed.

"Oh! I give you warning, if you come you must expect them; so my

invitation is almost as pleasant as the man's in 'Measure for

Measure,' who calls to Master Barnardine, 'Won't you come down to

be hanged?'"

"But how," cried he, "have I incurred your upbraidings?"

"

By bringing me here," I answered, "only to disappoint me."

"Did I bring you here?"

"Yes, by telling me you were to speak to-day."

He protested he could never have made such an assertion. I

explained myself, reminding him he had told me he was certainly

to speak before the recess; and that, therefore, when I was

informed this was to be the last day of trial till after the

recess, I concluded I should be right, but found myself so

utterly wrong as to hear nothing but such evidence as I Could not

even understand, because it was so uninteresting I could not even

listen to it.

"How strangely," he exclaimed, "are we all moulded, that nothing

ever in this mortal life, however pleasant in itself, and however

desirable from its circumstances, can come to us without alloy--

not even flattery; for here, at this moment, all the high

gratification I should feel, and I am well disposed to feel it

thoroughly in supposing you could think it worth your while to

come hither in order to hear me, is kept down and subdued by the

consciousness how much I must disappoint you."

"Not at all," cried I; "the worse you speak, the better for my

side of the question."

He laughed, but confessed the agitation of his spirits was so

great in the thought of that speech, whenever he was to make it,

that it haunted him in fiery dreams in his sleep.

"Sleep!" cried I; "do you ever sleep?"

He stared a little, but I added with pretended dryness, "Do any

of you that live down there in that prosecutor's den ever sleep

in your beds? I should have imagined that, had you

Page 132

even attempted it, the anticipating ghost of Mr. Hastings would

have appeared to you in the dead of the night, and have drawn

your curtains, and glared ghastly in your eyes. I do heartily

wish Mr. Tickell would send You that 'Anticipation' at once!"

This idea furnished us with sundry images, till, looking down

upon Mr. Hastings, with an air a little moved, he said, "I am

afraid the most insulting thing we do by him is coming up hither

to show ourselves so easy and disengaged, and to enter into

conversation with the ladies."

"But I hope," cried I, alarmed, "he does not see that."

"Why your caps," cried he, "are much in your favour for

concealment; they are excellent screens to all but the first

row!"

I saw him, however, again look at the poor, and, I sincerely

believe, much-injured prisoner, and as I saw also he still bore

With my open opposition, I could not but again seize a favourable

moment for being more serious With him.

"Ah, Mr. Windham," I cried, "I have not forgot what dropped from

you on the first day of this trial."

He looked a little surprised. "You," I continued, "probably have

no remembrance of it, for you have been living ever since down

there; but I was more touched with what you said then, than with

all I have since heard from all the others, and probably than

with all I shall hear even from you again when you mount the

rostrum."

"You conclude," cried he, looking very sharp, "I shall then be

better steeled against that fatal candour?"

"In fact," cried I, "Mr. Windham, I do really believe your

steeling to he factitious; notwithstanding you took pains to

assure me your candour was but the deeper malice; and yet I will

own, when once I have heard your speech, I have little

expectation of ever having the honour of conversing with you

again."

"And why?" cried- he, starting back "what am I to say that you

denounce such a forfeit beforehand?"

I could not explain; I left him to imagine; for, should he prove

as violent and as personal as the rest, I had no objection to his

previously understanding I could have no future pleasure in

discoursing with him.

"I think, however," I continued, with a laugh, "that since I have

settled this future taciturnity, I have a fair right in the

meanwhile to say whatever comes uppermost."

Page 133

He agreed to this with great approvance.

"Molière, you know, in order to obtain a natural opinion of his

plays, applied to an old woman: you upon the same principle, to

obtain a natural opinion of political matters, should apply to an

ignorant one--for you will never, I am sure, gain it down there."

He smiled, whether he would or not, but protested this was the

severest stricture upon his committee that had ever yet been

uttered.

MISS BURNEY'S UNBIASED SENTIMENTS.

I told him as it was the last time he was likely to hear unbiased

sentiments upon this subject, it was right they should be spoken

very intelligibly. " And permit me," I said, " to begin with

what strikes me the most. Were Mr. Hastings really the culprit

he is represented, he would never stand there."

"Certainly," cried he, with a candour he could not suppress,

"there seems something favourable in that; it has a Pod look; but

assure yourself he never expected to see this day."

"But would he, if guilty, have waited its chance? Was not all the

world before him? Could he not have chosen any other place of

residence ?"

"Yes--but the shame, the disgrace of a flight?"

"What is it all to the shame and disgrace of convicted guilt?"

He made no answer.

"And now," I continued, "shall I tell you, just in the same

simple style, how I have been struck with the speakers and

speeches I have yet heard?" He eagerly begged me to go on.

"The whole of this public speaking is quite new to me. I was

never in the House of Commons. It is all a new creation to me."

"And what a creation it is he exclaimed. "how noble, how

elevating! and what an inhabitant for it!"

I received his compliment with great courtesy, as an

encouragement. for me to proceed. I then began upon Mr. Burke;

but I must give you a very brief summary of my speech, as it

could only be intelligible at full length from your having heard

his. I told him that his opening had struck me with the highest

admiration of his powers, from the eloquence, the imagination,

the fire, the diversity of expression, and the ready flow of

language, with which he seemed gifted, in a most superior manner,

for any and every purpose to which rhetoric

Page 134

could lead. "And when he came to his two narratives," I

continued, "whence he related the particulars of those dreadful

murders, he interested, he engaged, he at last overpowered me; I

felt my cause lost. I Could hardly keep on my seat. My eyes

dreaded a single glance towards a man so accused as Mr. Hastings;

I wanted to sink on the floor, that they might be saved so

painful a sight. I had no hope he could clear himself; not

another wish in his favour remained. But When from this

narration Mr. Burke proceeded to his own comments and

declamation--when the charges of rapacity, cruelty, tyranny were

general, and made with all the violence of personal detestation,

and continued and aggravated without any further fact or

illustration; then there appeared more of study than of truth,

more of invective than of justice; and, in short, so little of

proof to so much of passion, that in a very short time I began to

lift up my head, my seat was no longer uneasy, my eyes were

indifferent which way they looked, or what object caught them;

and before I was myself aware of the declension of Mr. Burke's

powers over my feelings, I found myself a mere spectator in a

public place, and looking all around it, with my opera-glass in

my hand."

His eyes sought the ground on hearing this, and with no other

comment than a rather uncomfortable shrug of the shoulders, he

expressively and concisely said--"I comprehend you perfectly!"

This was a hearing too favourable to stop me; and Mr. Hastings

constantly before me was an animation to my spirits which nothing

less could have given me, to a manager of such a committee.

I next, therefore, began upon Mr. Fox; and I ran through the

general matter of his speech, with such observations as had

occurred to me in hearing it. "His violence," I said, "had that

sort of monotony that seemed to result from its being factitious,

and I felt less pardon for that than for any extravagance in Mr.

Burke, whose excesses seemed at least to be unaffected, and, if

they spoke against his judgment, spared his probity. Mr. Fox

appeared to have no such excuse; he looked all good humour and

negligent ease the instant before he began a speech of

uninterrupted passion and vehemence, and he wore the same

careless and disengaged air the very instant he had finished. A

display of talents in which the inward man took so little share

could have no powers of persuasion to those who saw them in that

light and therefore.

Page 135

however their brilliancy might be admired, they were useless to

their cause, for they left the mind of the hearer in the same

state that they found it."

After a short vindication of his friends, he said, "You have

never heard Pitt? You would like him beyond any other

competitor."

And then he made his panegyric in very strong terms, allowing him

to be equal, ready, splendid, wonderful!--he was in constant

astonishment himself at his powers and success;--his youth and

inexperience never seemed against him: though he mounted to his

present height after and in opposition to such a vortex of

splendid abilities, yet, alone and unsupported, he coped with

them all! And then, with conscious generosity, he finished a

most noble éloge with these words: "Take--you may take--the

testimony of an enemy--a very confirmed enemy of Mr. Pitt's!"

Not very confirmed, I hope! A man so liberal can harbour no

enmity of that dreadful malignancy that sets mitigation at

defiance for ever.

He then asked me if I had heard Mr. Grey?

" No," I answered ; " I can come but seldom, and therefore I

reserved myself for to-day."

"You really fill me with compunction," he cried. "But if,

indeed, I have drawn you into so cruel a waste of your time, the

only compensation I can make you will be carefully to keep from

you the day when I shall really speak."

"No," I answered, "I must hear you; for that is all I now wait

for to make up my final opinion."

"And does it all rest with me?--'Dreadful responsibility'--as Mr.

Hastings powerfully enough expresses himself in his narrative."

"And can you allow an expression of Mr. Hastings's to be

powerful?--That is not like Mr. Fox, who, in acknowledging some

one small thing to be right, in his speech, checked himself for

the acknowledgment by hastily saying 'Though I am no great

admirer of the genius and abilities of the gentleman at the

bar;'--as if he had pronounced a sentence in a parenthesis,

between hooks,--so rapidly he flew off to what he could

positively censure."

" And hooks they were indeed he cried.

"Do not inform against me," I continued, "and I will give you a

little more of Molière's old woman."

He gave me his parole, and looked very curious,

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"Well then,--amongst the things most striking to an unbiased

spectator was that action of the orator that led him to look full

at the prisoner upon every hard part of the charge. There was no

courage in it, since the accused is so situated he must make no

answer; and, not being courage, to Molière's old woman it could

only seem cruelty!"

He quite gave up this point without a defence, except telling me

it was from the habit of the House of Commons, as Fox, who

chiefly had done this, was a most good-humoured man, and by

nothing but habit would have been betrayed into such an error.

"And another thing," I cried, "which strikes those ignorant of

senatorial licence, is this,--that those perpetual repetitions,

from all the speakers, of inveighing against the power, the

rapacity, the tyranny, the despotism of the gentleman at the bar,

being uttered now, when we see him without any power, without

even liberty-con fined to that spot, and the only person in this

large assembly who may not leave it when he will--when we see

such a contrast to all we hear we think the simplest relation

would be sufficient for all purposes of justice, as all that goes

beyond plain narrative, instead of sharpening indignation, only

calls to mind the greatness of the fall, and raises involuntary

commiseration!"

"And you wish," he cried, "to hear me? How you add to my

difficulties!--for now, instead of thinking of Lords, Commons,

bishops, and judges before me, and of the delinquent and his

counsel at my side, I shall have every thought and faculty

swallowed up in thinking of who is behind me!"

This civil speech put an end to Molière's old woman and her

comments; and not to have him wonder at her unnecessarily, I

said, "Now, then, Mr. Windham, shall I tell you fairly what it is

that induced me to say all this to you?--Dr. Johnson!--what I

have heard from him of Mr. Windham has been the cause of all this

hazardous openness."

"'Twas a noble cause," cried he, well pleased, "and noble has

been its effect! I loved him, indeed, sincerely. He has left a

chasm in my heart-a chasm in the world ! There was in him what I

never saw before, what I never shall find again! I lament every

moment as lost, that I might have spent in his society, and yet

gave to any other."

How it delighted me to hear this just praise, thus warmly

uttered!--I could speak from this moment upon no other subject.

I told him how much it gratified me; and we agreed

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in comparing notes upon the very few opportunities his real

remaining friends could now meet with of a similar indulgence,

since so little was his intrinsic worth understood, while so

deeply all his foibles had been felt, that in general it was

merely a matter of pain to hear him even named.

How did we then emulate each other in calling to mind all his

excellences!

"His abilities," cried Mr. Windham, "were gigantic, and always at

hand no matter for the subject, he had information ready for

everything. He was fertile,--he was universal."

My praise of him was of a still more solid kind,--his principles,

his piety, his kind heart under all its rough coating: but I need

not repeat what I said,--my dear friends know every word.

I reminded him of the airings, in which he gave his time with his

carriage for the benefit of Dr. Johnson's health. "What an

advantage!" he cried, "was all that to myself! I had not merely

an admiration, but a tenderness for him,--the more I knew him,

the stronger it became. We never disagreed ; even in politics, I

found it rather words than things in which we differed."

"And if you could so love him," cried I, "knowing him only in a

general way, what would you have felt for him had you known him

at Streatham?"

I then gave him a little history of his manners and way of life,

there,--his good humour, his sport, his kindness, his

sociability, and all the many excellent qualities that, in the

world at large, were by so many means obscured.

He was extremely interested in all I told him, and regrettingly

said he had only known him in his worst days, when his health was

upon its decline, and infirmities were crowding- fast upon him.

"Had he lived longer," he cried, "I am satisfied I should have

taken to him almost wholly. I should have taken him to my heart!

have looked up to him, applied to him, advised with him in all

the most essential occurrences of my life! I am sure, too,--

though it is a proud assertion,--he would have liked me, also,

better, had we mingled more. I felt a mixed fondness and

reverence growing so strong upon me, that I am satisfied the

closest union would have followed his longer life."

I then mentioned how kindly he had taken his visit to him at

Lichfield during a severe illness, "And he left you," I said, "a

book ? "

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"Yes," he answered, "and he gave me one, also, just before he

died. 'You will look into this Sometimes,' he said, 'and not

refuse to remember whence you had it.' "(271)

And then he added he had heard him speak of me,--and with so much

kindness, that I was forced not to press a recapitulation: yet

now I wish I had heard it.

just before we broke up, "There Is nothing," he cried, with

energy, "for which I look back upon myself with severer

discipline than the time I have thrown away in other pursuits,

that might else have been devoted to that wonderful man!"

He then said he must be gone,--he was one in a committee of the

House, and could keep away no longer.

BURKE AND SHERIDAN MEET WITH COLD RECEPTIONS.

I then again joined in with Mrs. Crewe, who, meantime, had had

managers without end to converse with her.

But, very soon after, Mr. Burke mounted to the House of

Commons(272) again, and took the place left by Mr. Windham.

I inquired very much after Mrs. Burke, and we talked

of the spectacle, and its fine effect; and I ventured to

mention, allusively, some of the digressive parts of the great

speech in which I had heard him: but I saw him anxious for

speaking more to the point, and as I could not talk to him--the

leading prosecutor--with that frankness of opposing sentiments

which I used to Mr. Windham, I was anxious only to avoid talking

at all; and so brief was my speech, and so long my silences,

that, of course, he was soon wearied into a retreat. Had he not

acted such a part, with what pleasure should I have exerted

myself to lengthen his stay!

Yet he went not in wrath: for, before the close, he came yet a

third time, to say "I do not pity you for having to sit there so

long, for, with you, sitting can now be no punishment."

"No," cried I, "I may take rest for a twelvemonth back." His son

also came to speak to me; but, not long after,

Page 139

Mrs. Crewe called upon me to say, "Miss Burney, Mr. Sheridan begs

me to introduce him to you, for he thinks you have forgot him."

I did not feel very comfortable in this; the part he acts would

take from me all desire for his notice, even were his talents as

singular as they are celebrated. Cold, therefore, was my

reception of his salutations, though as civil as I could make it.

He talked a little over our former meeting at Mrs.

Cholmondeley's, and he reminded me of what he had there urged and

persuaded with all his might, namely, that I would write a

comedy; and he now reproached me for my total disregard of his

counsel and opinion.

I made little or no answer, for I am always put out by such sort

of discourse, especially when entered upon with such abruptness.

Recollecting, then, that "Cecilia" had been published since that

time, he began a very florid flourish, saying he was in my debt

greatly, not only for reproaches about what I had neglected, but

for fine speeches about what I had performed. I hastily

interrupted him with a fair retort, exclaiming,--"O if fine

speeches may now be made, I ought to begin first---but know not

where I should end!" I then asked after Mrs. Sheridan, and he

soon after left me.

Mrs. Crewe was very obligingly solicitous our renewed

acquaintance should not drop here; she asked me to name any day

for dining with her, or to send to her at any time when I could

arrange a visit: but I was obliged to decline it, on the general

score of wanting time.

In the conclusion of the day's business there was much speaking,

and I heard Mr. Fox, Mr. Burke, and several others; but the whole

turned extremely in favour of the gentleman at the bar, to the

great consternation of the accusers, whose own witnesses gave

testimony, most unexpectedly, on the side of Mr. Hastings.

We came away very late; my dear James quite delighted with this

happy catastrophe.

AT WINDSOR AGAIN.

March.-In our first journey to Windsor this month Mrs.

Schwellenberg was still unable to go, and the party was Miss

Planta, Colonel Wellbred, Mr. Fairly, Sir Joseph Banks, and Mr.

Turbulent.

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Sir Joseph was so exceedingly shy that we made no sort of

acquaintance. If instead of going round the world he had only

fallen from the moon, he could not appear less versed in the

usual modes of a tea-drinking party. But what, you will say, has

a tea-drinking party to do with a botanist, a man of science, a

president of the Royal Society?

I left him , however, to the charge of Mr. Turbulent, the two

colonels becoming, as usual, my joint supporters. And Mr.

Turbulent, in revenge, ceased not one moment to watch Colonel

Wellbred, nor permitted him to say a word, or to hear an answer,

without some most provoking grimace. Fortunately, upon this

subject he cannot confuse me; I have not a sentiment about

Colonel Wellbred, for or against, that shrinks from examination.

To-night, however, my conversation was almost wholly with him. I

would not talk with Mr. Turbulent; I could not talk with Sir

Joseph Banks - and Mr. Fairly did not talk with me : he had his

little son with him; he was grave and thoughtful, and seemed

awake to no other pleasure than discoursing with that sweet boy.

I believe I have forgotten to mention that Mrs. Gwynn had called

upon me one morning, in London, and left me a remarkably fine

impression of Mr. Bunbury's "Propagation of a Lie," which I had

mentioned when she was at Windsor, with regret at having never

seen it. This I had produced here a month ago, to show to our

tea-party, and just as it was in the hands of Colonel Wellbred,

his majesty entered the room; and, after looking at it a little

while, with much entertainment, he took it away to show it to the

queen and princesses. I thought it lost; for Colonel Wellbred

said he concluded it would be thrown amidst the general hoard of

curiosities, which, when once seen, are commonly ever after

forgotten, yet which no one has courage to name and to claim.

This evening, however, the colonel was successful, and recovered

me my print. It is so extremely humorous that I was very glad to

receive it, and in return I fetched my last

sketches, which Mr. William Locke had most kindly done for me

when here last autumn, and indulged Colonel Wellbred with looking

at them, charging him at the same time to guard them from a

similar accident. I meant to show them myself to my royal

mistress, who is all care, caution, and delicacy, to restore to

the right owner whatever she receives with a perfect knowledge

who the right owner is,

Page 141

The second volume of the "Letters" of my reverenced Dr. Johnson

was now lent me by her majesty; I found in them very frequent

mention of our name, but nothing to alarm in the reading it.

DEATH OF MRS. DELANY.

April.-I have scarce a memorandum of this fatal month, in which I

was bereft of the most revered of friends, and, perhaps, the most

perfect of women.(273) I am yet scarce able to settle whether to

glide silently and resignedly--as far as I can--past all this

melancholy deprivation, or whether to go back once more to the

ever-remembered, ever-sacred scene that closed the earthly

pilgrimage of my venerable, my sainted friend.

I believe I heard the last words she uttered : I cannot learn

that she spoke after my reluctant departure. She finished with

that cheerful resignation, that lively hope, which always broke

forth when this last--awful--but, to her, most happy change

seemed approaching.

Poor Miss Port and myself were kneeling by her bedside. She had

just given me her soft hand; without power to see either of us,

she felt and knew us. O, never can I cease to cherish the

remembrance of the sweet, benign, holy voice with which she

pronounced a blessing upon us both! We kissed her--and, with a

smile all beaming--I thought it so--of heaven, she seemed then to

have taken leave of all earthly solicitudes. Yet then, even

then, short as was her time on earth, the same soft human

sensibility filled her for poor human objects. She would not bid

us farewell--would not tell us she should speak with us no more--

she only said, as she turned gently away from us, "And now--I'll

go to sleep!"--But, O, in what a voice she said it! I felt what

the sleep would be; so did poor Miss Port.

Poor, sweet, unfortunate girl! what deluges of tears did she shed

over me! I promised her in that solemn moment my eternal regard,

and she accepted this, my first protestation of any kind made to

her, as some solace to her sufferings. Sacred shall I hold

it!--sacred to my last hour. I believe, indeed, that angelic

being had no other wish equally fervent.

How full of days and full of honours was her exit! I should

blush at the affliction of my heart in losing her, could I ever

Page 142

believe excellence was given us here to love and to revere, yet

gladly to relinquish. No, I cannot think it: the deprivation may

be a chastisement, but not a joy. We may submit to it with

patience; but we cannot have felt it with warmth where we lose it

without pain, Outrageously to murmur, or sullenly to refuse

consolation--there, indeed, we are rebels against the

dispensations of providence--and rebels yet more weak than

wicked; for what and whom is it we resist? what and who are we

for such resistance ?

She bid me--how often did she bid me not grieve to lose her! Yet

she said, in my absence, she knew I must, and sweetly regretted

how much I must miss her. I teach myself to think of her

felicity; and I never dwell upon that without faithfully feeling

I would not desire her return. But, in every other channel in

which my thoughts and feelings turn, I miss her with so sad a

void! She was all that I dearly loved that remained within my

reach; she was become the bosom repository of all the livelong

day's transactions, reflections, feelings, and wishes. Her own

exalted mind was all expanded when we met. I do not think she

concealed from me the most secret thought of her heart; and while

every word that fell from her spoke wisdom, piety, and

instruction, her manner had an endearment, her spirits a native

gaiety, and her smile, to those she loved, a tenderness so

animated.

Blessed spirit! sweet, fair, and beneficent on earth!--O, gently

mayest thou now be at rest in that last home to which fearfully I

look forward, yet not hopeless; never that--and sometimes with

fullest, fairest, sublimest expectations! If to her it be given

to plead for those she left, I shall not be forgotten in her

prayer. Rest to her sweet soul! rest and everlasting peace to

her gentle spirit!

I saw my poor lovely Miss Port twice in every day, when in town,

till after the last holy rites had been performed. I had no

peace away from her; I thought myself fulfilling a wish of that

sweet departed saint, in consigning all the time I had at my own

disposal to solacing and advising with her beloved niece, who

received this little offering with a sweetness that once again

twined her round my heart. . . .

Poor Mrs. Astley, the worthy humble friend, rather than servant,

of the most excellent departed, was the person whom, next to the

niece, I most pitied. She was every way to be lamented: unfit

for any other service, but unprovided for in this, by the

utter and most regretted inability of her much

Page 143

attached mistress, who frequently told me that leaving poor

Astley unsettled hung heavy on her mind.

My dearest friends know, the success I had in venturing to

represent her worth and situation to my royal mistress. In the

moment when she came to my room to announce his majesty's

gracious intention to pension Mrs. Astley here as housekeeper to

the same house, I really could scarce withhold myself from

falling prostrate at her feet : I never felt such a burst of

gratitude but where I had no ceremonials to repress it. Joseph,

too, the faithful footman, I was most anxious to secure in some

good service-- and I related my wishes for him to General Cary,

who procured for him a place with his daughter, Lady Amherst.

I forget if I have ever read you the sweet words that accompanied

to me the kind legacies left me by my honoured friend. I believe

not. They were ordered to be sent me with the portrait of

Sacharissa, and two medallions of their majesties: they were

originally written to accompany the legacy to the Bishop of

Worcester, Dr. Hurd, as you may perceive by the style, but it was

desired they might also be copied:--

"I take this liberty, that my much esteemed and respected friend

may sometimes recollect a person who was so sensible of the

honour of her friendship and who delighted so much in her

conversation and works."

Need I--O, I am sure I need not say with what tender, grateful,

sorrowing joy I received these sweet pledges of her invaluable

regard!

To these, by another codicil, was added the choice of one of her

mosaic flowers. And verbally, on the night but one before she

died, she desired I might have her fine quarto edition of

Shakespeare, sweetly saying she had never received so much

pleasure from him in any other way as through my reading.

THE HASTINGS TRIAL AND MR. WINDHAM AGAIN.

The part of this month in which my Susanna was in town I kept no

journal at all. And I have now nothing to add but to copy those

memorandums I made of the trial on the day I went to Westminster

Hall with my two friends,(274) previously to

Page 144

the deep calamity on which I have dwelt. They told me they could

not hear what Mr. Windham said; and there is a spirit in his

discourse more worth their hearing than any other thing I have

now to write.

You may remember his coming straight from the managers, in their

first procession to their box, and beginning at once a most

animated attack--scarcely waiting first to say "How do!"--before

he exclaimed "I have a great quarrel with you--I am come now

purposely to quarrel with you--you have done me mischief

irreparable--you have ruined me!"

"Have I?"

"Yes: and not only with what passed here, even setting that

aside, though there was mischief enough here; but you have quite

undone me since!"

I begged him to let me understand how.

"I will," he cried. "When the trial broke up for the recess I

went into the country, purposing to give my whole time to study

and business; but, most unfortunately, I had just sent for a new

set of 'Evelina;' and intending only to look at it, I was so

cruelly caught that I could not let it out of my hands, and have

been living with nothing but the Branghtons ever since."

I could not but laugh, though on this subject 'tis always

awkwardly.

"There was no parting with it," he continued. "I could not shake

it off from me a moment!--see, then, every way, what mischief you

have done me!"

He ran on to this purpose much longer, with great rapidity, and

then, suddenly, stopping, again said, "But I have yet another

quarrel with you, and one you must answer. How comes it that the

moment you have attached us to the hero and the heroine--the

instant you have made us cling to them so that there is no

getting disengaged--twined, twisted, twirled them round our very

heart-strings--how is it that then you make them undergo such

persecutions? There is really no enduring their distresses, their

Suspenses, their perplexities. Why are you so cruel to all

around--to them and their readers?"

I longed to say--Do you object to a persecution?--but I know he

spells it prosecution.

I could make no answer: I never can. Talking over one's own

writings seems to me always ludicrous, because it cannot be

impartially, either by author or commentator; one feeling,

Page 145

the other fearing, too much for strict truth and unaffected

candour.

When we found the subject quite hopeless as to discussion, he

changed it, and said "I have lately seen some friends of yours,

and I assure you I gave you an excellent character to them: I

told them you were firm, fixed, and impenetrable to all

conviction."

An excellent character, indeed! He meant to Mr. Francis and

Charlotte.

Then he talked a little of the business of the day and he told me

that Mr. Anstruther was to speak.

"I was sure of it," I cried,, "by his manner when he entered the

managers' box. I shall know when you are to speak, Mr. Windham,

before I hear you.,"

He shrugged his shoulders a little uncomfortably. I asked him to

name to me the various managers. He did ; adding, "Do you not

like to sit here, where you can look down upon the several

combatants before the battle?"

When he named Mr. Michael Angelo Taylor, I particularly desired

he might be pointed out to me, telling him I had long

wished to see him, from the companion given to him in one of the

"Probationary Odes," where they have coupled him with my dear

father, most impertinently and unwarrantably.

"That, indeed," he cried, "is a licentiousness in the press quite

intolerable--to attack and involve private characters in their

public lampoons! To Dr. Burney they could have no right; but Mr.

Michael Angelo Taylor is fair game enough, and likes that or any

other way whatever of obtaining notice. You know what Johnson

said to Boswell of preserving fame?"

"No."

"There were but two ways," he told him, "of preserving; one was

by sugar, the other by salt. 'Now,' says he, 'as the sweet way,

Bozzy, you are but little likely to attain, I would have you

plunge into vinegar, and get fairly pickled at once.' And such

has been the plan of Mr. Michael Angelo Taylor. With the sweet

he had, indeed, little chance, so he soused into the other, head

over ears."

We then united forces in repeating passages from various of the

"Probationary Odes," and talking over various of the managers,

till Mr. Anstruther was preparing to speak, and Mr. Windham went

to his cell.

I am sure you will remember that Mr. Burke came also,

Page 146

and the panic with which I saw him, doubled by my fear lest he

should see that panic.

When the speech was over, and evidence was filling up the day's

business, Mr. Windham returned. Some time after, but I have

forgotten how, we were agreeing in thinking suspense, and all

obscurity, in expectation or in opinion, almost the thing's most

trying to bear in this mortal life, especially where they lead to

some evil construction.

"But then," cried he, "on the other hand, there is nothing so

pleasant as clearing away a disagreeable prejudice; nothing SO

exhilarating as the dispersion of a black mist, and seeing all

that had been black and gloomy turn out bright and fair."

"That, Sir," cried I, "is precisely what I expect from thence,"

pointing to the prisoner.

What a look he gave me, yet he laughed irresistibly.

"However," I continued, "I have been putting my expectations from

your speech to a kind of test."

"And how, for heaven's sake?"

"Why, I have been reading--running over, rather--a set of

speeches, in which almost the whole House made a part, upon the

India bill ; and in looking over those I saw not one that had not

in it something positively and pointedly personal, except Mr.

Windham's."

"O, that was a mere accident."

"But it was just the accident I expected from Mr. Windham. I do

not mean that there was invective in all the others, for in some

there was panegyric--plenty! but that panegyric was always so

directed as to convey more of severe censure to one party than of

real praise to the other. Yours was all to the business, and

hence I infer you will deal just so by Mr. Hastings."

"I believe," cried he, looking at me very sharp, "you only want

to praise me down. You know what it is to skate a man down?"

"No, indeed."

"Why, to skate a man down is a very favourite diversion among a

certain race Of wags. It is only to praise, and extol, and

stimulate him to double and treble exertion and effort, till, in

order to show his desert of such panegyric, the poor dupe makes

so many turnings and windings, and describes circle after circle

with such hazardous dexterity, that, at last, down he drops in

the midst of his flourishes, to his own eternal disgrace, and

their entire content."

page 147

I gave myself no vindication from this charge but a laugh; and we

returned to discuss speeches and speakers, and I expressed again

my extreme repugnance against all personality in these public

harangues, except in simply stating facts.

" What say you, then," cried he, " to Pitt?" He then repeated a

warm and animated praise of his powers and his eloquence, but

finished with this censure: "He takes not," cried he, "the grand

path suited to his post as prime minister, for he is personal

beyond all men ; pointed, sarcastic, cutting ; and it is in him

peculiarly unbecoming. The minister should be always

conciliating; the attack, the probe, the invective, belong to the

assailant."

Then he instanced Lord North, and said much more on these

political matters and maxims than I can possibly write, or could

at the time do more than hear; for, as I told him, I not only am

no politician, but have no ambition to become one, thinking it by

no means a female business.

"THE QUEEN IS so KIND."

When he went to the managers' box, Mr. Burke again took his

place, but he held it a very short time, though he was in high

good humour and civility. The involuntary coldness that results

from internal disapprobation must, I am sure, have been seen, so

thoroughly was it felt. I can only talk on this matter with Mr.

Windham, who, knowing my opposite principles, expects to hear

them, and gives them the fairest play by his good humour,

candour, and politeness. But there is not one other manager with

whom I could venture such openness.

That Mr. Windham takes it all in good part is certainly amongst

the things he makes plainest, for again, after Mr. Burke's return

to the den, he came back.

"I am happy," cried I, "to find you have not betrayed me."

"Oh, no; I would not for the world."

"I am quite satisfied you have kept my counsel; for Mr. Burke has

been with me twice, and speaking with a good humour I could not

else have expected from him. He comes to tell me that he never

pities me for sitting here, whatever is going forward, as the

sitting must be rest; and, indeed, it seems as if my coming

hither was as much to rest my frame as to exercise my mind."

Page 148

"That's a very good idea, but I do not like to realize it ; I do

not like to think of you and fatigue together. Is it so? Do you

really want rest?"

"O, no."

"O, I am well aware yours is not a mind to turn complainer but

yet I fear, and not for your rest only, but your time. How is

that; have you it, as you Ought, at your own disposal?"

"Why not quite," cried I, laughing. Good heaven! what a

question, in a situation like mine!

"Well, that is a thing I cannot bear to think of--that you should

want time."

"But the queen," cried I, is so kind."

"That may be," interrupted he, "and I am very glad of it but

still, time--and to you!"

"Yet, after all, in the whole, I have a good deal, though always

Uncertain. for, if sometimes I have not two minutes when I

expect two hours, at other times I have two hours where I

expected only two minutes."

"All that is nothing, if you have them not with certainty. Two

hours are of no more value than two minutes, if you have them not

at undoubted command."

Again I answered, "The queen is so kind;" determined to sound

that sentence well and audibly into republican ears.

"Well, well," cried he, "that may be some compensation to you,

but to us, to all others, what compensation is there for

depriving you of time?"

"Mrs. Locke, here," cried I, "always wishes time could be bought,

because there are so many who have more than they know what to do

with, that those who have less might be supplied very

reasonably."

"'Tis an exceeding good idea," cried he, "and I am sure, if it

could be purchased, it ought to be given to YOU by act of

parliament, as a public donation and tribute." There was a fine

flourish!

PERSONAL RESEMBLANCE BETWEEN WINDHAM AND HASTINGS.

A little after, while we were observing Mr. Hastings, Mr. Windham

exclaimed, "He's looking up; I believe he is looking for you."

I turned hastily away, fairly saying, "I hope not."

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"Yes, he is; he seems as if he wanted to bow to you." I shrank

back. "No, he looks off; he thinks you in too bad company!"

"Ah, Mr. Windham," cried I, "you should not be so

hardhearted towards him, whoever else may; and I could

tell you, and I will tell you if you please, a very forcible

reason." He assented. "You must know, then, that people there

are in this world who scruple not to assert that there is a very

strong personal resemblance between Mr. Windham and Mr. Hastings;

nay, in the profile, I see it myself at this moment and therefore

ought not you to be a little softer than the rest, if merely in

sympathy?"

He laughed very heartily; and owned he had heard of the

resemblance before.

"I could take him extremely well," I cried, "for your uncle."

"No, no; if he looks like my elder brother, I aspire at no more."

"No, no; he is more like your uncle; he has just that air; he

seems just of that time of life. Can You then be so

unnatural as to prosecute him with this eagerness?"

And then, once again, I ventured to give him a little touch of

Molière's old woman, lest he should forget that good and honest

dame; and I told him there was one thing she particularly

objected to in all the speeches that had yet been made, and hoped

his speech would be exempt from.

He inquired what that was.

"Why, she says she does not like to hear every orator compliment

another; every fresh speaker say, he leaves to the superior

ability of his successor the prosecution of the business."

"O, no," cried he, very readily, "I detest all that sort of

adulation. I hold it in the utmost contempt."

"And, indeed, it will be time to avoid it when your turn comes,

for I have heard it in no less than four speeches already."

And then he offered his assistance about servants and carriages,

and we all came away, our different routes; but my Fredy and

Susan must remember my meeting with Mr. Hastings in coming out,

and his calling after me, and saying, with a very comic sort of

politeness, "I must come here to have the pleasure of seeing Miss

Burney, for I see her nowhere else."

What a strange incident would have been formed had this rencontre

happened thus if I had accepted Mr. Windham's offered services !

I am most glad I had not ; I should have felt myself a

conspirator, to have been so met by Mr. Hastings.

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DEATH OF YOUNG LADY MULGRAVE.

May.-On the 17th of this month Miss Port bade her sad reluctant

adieu to London. I gave what time I could command from Miss

Port's departure to my excellent and maternal Mrs. Ord, who

supported herself with unabating fortitude and resignation. But

a new calamity affected her much, and affected me greatly also,

though neither she nor I were more than distant spectators in

comparison with the nearer mourners; the amiable and lovely Lady

Mulgrave gave a child to her lord, and died, in the first dawn of

youthful beauty and sweetness, exactly a year after she became

his wife. 'Twas, indeed, a tremendous blow. It was all our

wonder that Lord Mulgrave kept his senses, as he had not been

famed for patience or piety; but I believe he was benignly

inspired with both, from his deep admiration of their excellence

in his lovely wife.

AGAIN AT WINDSOR.

I must mention a laughable enough circumstance. Her majesty

inquired of me if I had ever met with- Lady Hawke? "Oh yes," I

cried, "and Lady Say and Sele too." " She has just desired

permission to send me a novel of her own Writing," answered her

majesty.

"I hope," cried I, "'tis not the 'Mausoleum of Julia!'"

But yes, it proved no less ! and this she has now published and

sends about. You must remember Lady Say and Sele's quotation

from it.(275) Her majesty was so gracious as to lend it me, for

I had some curiosity to read it. It is all of a piece: all love,

love, love, unmixed and unadulterated with any more worldly

materials.

I read also the second volume of the "Paston Letters," and found

their character the same as in the first, and therefore read them

with curiosity and entertainment.

The greater part of the month was spent, alas! at Windsor, with

what a dreary vacuity of heart and of pleasure I need not say.

The only period of it in which my spirits could be commanded to

revive was during two of the excursions in which Mr. Fairly was

of the party; and the sight of him, calm, mild, nay cheerful,

under such superior sorrows-- --struck me with that sort of

edifying admiration that led me, perforce, to the best

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exertion in my power for the conquest of my deep depression. If

I did this from conscience in private, from a sense of obligation

to him in public I reiterated my efforts, as I received from him

all the condoling softness and attention he could possibly have

bestowed upon me had my affliction been equal or even greater

than his own.

ANOTHER MEETING WITH MR. CRUTCHLEY.

On one of the Egham race days the queen sent Miss Planta and me

on the course, in one of the royal coaches, with Lord Templeton

and Mr. Charles Fairly,(276) for our beaux. Lady Templeton was

then at the Lodge, and I had the honour of two or three

conferences with er during her stay. On the course, we were

espied by Mr. Crutchley, who instantly devoted himself to my

service for the morning--taking care of our places, naming

jockeys, horses, bets, plates, etc., and talking between times of

Streatham and all the Streathamites. We were both, I believe,

very glad of this discourse. He pointed out to me where his

house stood, in a fine park, within sight of the race-ground, and

proposed introducing me to his sister, who was his housekeeper,

and asking me if, through her invitation, I would come to Sunning

Hill park. I assured him I lived so completely in a monastery

that I could make no new acquaintance. He then said he expected

soon Susan and Sophy Thrale on a visit to his sister, and he

presumed I would not refuse coming to see them. I truly answered

I should rejoice to do it if in my power, but that most probably

I must content myself with meeting them on the Terrace. He

promised to bring them there with his sister, though he had given

up that walk these five years.

It will give me indeed great pleasure to see them again.

MR. TURBULENT'S TROUBLESOME PLEASANTRIES.

My two young beaux Stayed dinner with us, and I afterwards

strolled upon the lawn with them till tea-time. I could not go

on the Terrace, nor persuade them to go on by themselves. We

backed as the royal party returned home; and when they had all

entered the house, Colonel Wellbred, who had stood aloof, quitted

the train to join our little society. "Miss

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Burney," he cried, "I think I know which horse you betted upon!

Cordelia!"

"For the name's sake you think it," I cried; and he began some

questions and comments upon the races, when suddenly the window

of the tea-room opened, and the voice of Mr. Turbulent, with a

most sarcastic tone, called out, "I hope Miss Burney and Colonel

Wellbred are well!"

We could neither Of us keep a profound gravity, though really he

deserved it from us both. I turned from the Colonel, and said I

was coming directly to the tea-room.

Colonel Wellbred would have detained me to finish Our race

discourse, for he had shut the window when he had made his

speech, but I said it was time to go in.

"Oh no," cried he, laughing a little, "Mr. Turbulent only wants

his own tea, and he does not deserve it for this!"

In, however, I went, and Colonel Manners took the famous chair

the instant I was seated. We all began race talk, but Mr.

Turbulent, approaching very significantly, said, "Do you want a

chair On the other side, ma'am? Shall I tell the colonel-to bring

one?"

"No, indeed cried I, half seriously, lest he should do it. . . .

Colonel Wellbred, not knowing what had passed, came to that same

other side, and renewed his conversation. In the midst of all

this Mr. Turbulent hastily advanced with a chair, saying,

"Colonel Wellbred, I cannot bear to see you standing so long."

I found it impossible not to laugh under My hat, though I really

wished to bid him stand in a corner for a naughty boy. The

colonel, I suppose, laughed too, whether he would or not, for I

heard no answer. However, he took the chair, and finding me

wholly unembarrassed by this polissonnerie, though not wholly

unprovoked by it, he renewed his discourse, and kept his seat

till the party, very late, broke up; but Colonel Manners, who

knew not what to make of all this, exclaimed, "Why, ma'am, you

cannot keep Mr. Turbulent in much order."

June.-Mrs. Schwellenberg came to Windsor with us after the

birthday, for the rest of the summer.

Mr. Turbulent took a formal leave of me at the same time, as his

wife now came to settle at Windsor, and he ceased to belong to

our party. He only comes to the princesses at stated hours, and

then returns to his own home. He gave me many serious thanks for

the time passed with me, spoke in flourishing

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terms of its contrast to former times, and vowed no compensation

could ever be made him for the hours he had thrown away by

compulsion on "The Oyster."(277) His behaviour altogether was

very well--here and there a little eccentric, but, in the main,

merely good-humoured and high-spirited.

COLONEL FAIRLY AND SECOND ATTACHMENTS.

I am persuaded there is no manner of truth in the report relative

to Mr. Fairly and Miss Fuzilier, for he led me into a long

conversation with him one evening when the party was large, and

all were otherwise engaged, upon subjects of this nature, in the

course of which he asked me if I thought any second attachment

could either be as strong or as happy as a first.

I was extremely surprised by the question, and quite unprepared

how to answer it, as I knew not with what feelings or intentions

I might war by any unwary opinions. I did little, therefore, but

evade and listen, though he kept up the discourse in a very

animated manner, till the party all broke up.

Had I spoken without any consideration but what was general and

genuine, I should have told him that my idea was simply this,

that where a first blessing was withdrawn by providence, not lost

by misconduct, it seemed to me most consonant to reason, nature,

and mortal life, to accept what could come second, in this as in

all other deprivations. Is it not a species of submission to the

divine will to make ourselves as happy as we can in what is left

us to obtain, where bereft of what we had sought? My own

conflict for content in a life totally adverse to my own

inclinations, is all built on this principle, and when it

succeeds, to this owes its success.

I presumed not, however, to talk in this way to Mr. Fairly, for I

am wholly ignorant in what manner or to what degree his first

attachment may have rivetted his affections; but by the whole of

what passed it seemed to me very evident that he was not merely

entirely without any engagement, but entirely at this time

without any plan or scheme of forming any; and probably he never

may.

(257) "Selections from the State Papers preserved in the Foreign

Department of the Government of India, 1772-1785," Edited by G.

W. Forrest, VOL i. P, 178.

(258) "Warren Hastings," by Sir Alfred Lyall, p. 54.

(259) Selections from State Papers," vol. i. p. xlviii.

(260) In his defence at the bar of the House of Commons, (Feb.

4th, 1788) Sir Elijah Impey attempted to justify his conduct by

precedent, but the single precedent on which he relied does not

prove much in his favour. A Hindoo, named Radachund Metre, was

condemned to death for forgery in 1765, but was pardoned on this

very ground, that capital punishment for such a crime was unheard

of in India.

(261) Speech on Mr. Fox's East India Bill, Dec. 1st, 1783,

(262) Fanny's brother, the scholar. He was, at this time, master

of a school at Hammersmith-ED.

(263) Windham had introduced and carried through the House of

Commons the charge respecting Fyzoolla Khan, the Nawab of

Rampore; but this charge, with many others of the original

articles of impeachment, was not proceeded upon at the trial.

Fyzoolla Khan was one of the Rohilla chiefs, who, more fortunate

than the rest, had been permitted by treaty, after the conquest

of Rohilcund in 17 74, to retain possession of Rampore as a

vassal of the Vizier of Oude. By this treaty the Nawab of

Rampore was empowered to maintain an army of 5,000 horse and foot

in all and in return he bound himself to place from 2,000 to

3,000 troops at the disposal of the Vizier whenever that

assistance might be required. In November, 1780, the Vizier, or

rather, Hastings, speaking by the mouth of the Vizier, called

upon Fyzoolla Khan to furnish forthwith a contingent of 5,000

horse. The unhappy Nawab offered all the assistance in his

power, but not only Was the demand unwarranted by the terms of

the treaty, but the number of horse required was far greater than

he had the means to furnish. Thereupon Mr. Hastings gave

permission to the Vizier to dispossess his vassal of his

dominions. This iniquitous scheme, however, was never carried

out, and in 1782, Fyzoolla Khan made his peace with the

Governor-General, and procured his own future exemption from

military service, by payment of a large sum of money.-ED.

(264) Mr. Hastings's enemy was Mr. afterwards Sir Philip Francis,

by some people supposed to have been the author of "Junius's

Letters." The best friend of Mr. Hastings here alluded to was

Clement Francis, Esq. of Aylsham, in Norfolk, who married

Charlotte, fourth daughter of Dr. Burney. [Francis, though an

active supporter of the impeachment, was not one of the

"managers." He had been nominated to the committee by Burke, but

rejected by the House, on the ground of his well-known animosity

to Hastings.-ED.)

(265) After all, Impey escaped impeachment. In December, 1787,

Sir Gilbert Elliot, one of the managers of Hastings' impeachment,

brought before the House of Commons six charges against Impey, of

which the first, and most serious, related to the death of

Nuncomar. The charges were referred to a committee, before which

Impey made his defence, February 4, 1788. On May 9, a division

was taken on the first charge, and showed a majority of eighteen

in favour of Impey. The subject was resumed, May 27, and finally

disposed of by the rejection of sir Gilbert Elliot's motion

without a division-ED.

(266) Saturday, February 16, 1788.-ED.

(267) Macaulay attributes perhaps too exclusively to Court

influence Fanny's prepossession in favour of Hastings. It should

be remembered that her family and many of her friends were,

equally with herself, partisans of Hastings, to whom, moreover,

she had been first introduced by a much valued friend, Mr.

Cambridge (see ante, vol. i., P. 326).-ED.

(268) "Miss Fuzilier" is the name given in the "Diary" to Miss

Charlotte Margaret Gunning, daughter of Sir Robert Gunning. She

married Colonel Digby ("Mr. Fairly") in 1790.-ED.

(269) This would seem to fix the date as Thursday, February 21,

Thursday being mentioned by Fanny as the Court-day (see ante, p.

125). According, however, to Debrett's "History of the Trial,"

Fox spoke on the charge relating to Cheyt Sing on Friday,

February 22, the first day of the Court's sitting since the

preceding Tuesday.-ED. '

(270) The managers had desired that each charge should be taken

separately, and replied to, before proceeding to the next.

Hastings's counsel, on the other hand, demanded that all the

charges should be presented before the defence was opened. The

Lords, by a large majority, decided against the managers.-ED.

(271) Windham relates that when he called upon Dr. Johnson, six

days before his death, Johnson put into his hands a copy of the

New Testament, saying "Extremum hoc mumus morientis habeto." See

the extracts from Windham's journal in Croker's "Boswell," v.,

326. In a codicil to Johnson's will, dated Dec. 9, 1784,

we find, among other bequests of books, "to Mr. Windham, Poete

Greci Henrici per Henriculum Stephanum."-ED.

(272) i.e. to the benches assigned to the Commons in Westminster

Hall. These immediately adjoined the chamberlain's box in which

Miss Burney was seated.-ED.

(273) Mrs. Delany died on the 15th of April, 1788.-ED.

(274) Her sister Susan and Mrs. Locke. The day referred to must

have been Friday, April 11th, on which day Mr. Anstruther spoke

on the charge relating to Cheyt Sing.-ED.

(275) See ante, vol. 1, p. 220.-ED.

(276) The young son of Colonel Digby.-ED.

(277) Mrs. Haggerdorn, Fanny's predecessor in office. See ante,

p. 26.-ED.

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