While we were at church on Sunday morning, we heard a sermon, upon
which, by means of a speech I chanced to make, we have been talking
ever since. The subject was treating of humility, and declaiming against
pride; in the midst of which Mrs. Thrale whispered--
“This sermon is all against us; that is, four of us: Queeny, Burney,
Susan, and I, are all as proud as possible--Mr. Crutchley and Sophy[141]
are humble enough.”
“Good heavens!” cried I, “Mr. Crutchley!--why he is the proudest among
us!”
This speech she instantly repeated, and just at that moment the preacher
said--“Those--who are the weakest are ever the soonest puffed up.”
He instantly made me a bow, with an expressive laugh, that thanked me
for the compliment. To be sure it happened most untimely.