In the preceding narrative, the name of a very celebrated lady has been
introduced, who, for a long series of years, greatly attracted public
notice, and concerning whom, the loudest praises and the bitterest
censures have been scattered about with unsparing profuseness. This lady
was
MRS. P⸺.
She seems introduced in the Recollections merely as one of those to
whom a certain degree of reputation in the literary world obtained an
easy introduction, but by no means from any admiration either of her
talents, or her conduct. A long interval of time elapsed between the
first commencement of acquaintance with this lady, and its last renewal;
but the impression concerning her, remained the same—unaltered and
unalterable.
Her great characteristic was vanity; acute, ingenious, and variously
informed, she undoubtedly was; but there was a pert levity about her,
which induced a perpetual suspicion of her accuracy, and an affectation
also, which it seems wonderful that Dr. Johnson could ever have endured.
The fraternity who used to assemble at her parties, had certain cant
words and expressions among them, perfectly characteristic of their
numerous but fantastical school.
Every body admitted to their familiarity was termed _Dear_. _Dear_
Anna Seward, _Dear_ Dr. Darwin, _Dear_ Mrs. Siddons, _Dear_ Sir Lucas
Pepys, were terms perpetually vibrated in gentle undulations round the
drawing-room.
No person seems better to have understood this lady’s character than
Boswell. The term _Lively Lady_, in the sense in which he used it,
was admirably descriptive of her mind and manner, both in writing and
conversation. But her works and her character have long been before the
public, who have formed an adequate estimate of both. It is not perhaps
generally known, that her decline of life was characterized with one of
those extraordinary and preposterous acts, that fortunately do not often
occur in society, but when they do, are invariably animadverted upon with
the asperity they deserve.
It is very notorious that Mrs. P. had several children, and many
grand-children. It is equally well known that she possesses considerable
hereditary landed property, to the amount of not much, if at all less
than four thousand pounds a-year.
What does the reader anticipate? Why in course that this property was
bequeathed in just and reasonable proportions to the above-mentioned
children and grand-children. No such thing. Such a humdrum and every
day mode of proceeding would have been unworthy of the poetess, the
authoress, the confidential friend of the benevolent Johnson. Our lively
lady (Boswell, we thank thee for that word) aimed at fairer wreaths and
brighter laurels. No! diligent search was to be made in the Alps, for
some booby relative of the last poor dear man, and the search succeeded.
A young Italian mountaineer turned up, calling himself the nephew to the
never enough to be lamented musician man. He was accordingly imported
to this northern region, educated first at an expensive school, and
afterwards at the University; and upon him, and his heirs for ever, are
the estates and honours of one of the oldest families of Cambrian origin,
irrevocably vested and settled.
The old family mansion, forsooth, was not good enough for his Italian
Highness. This was accordingly pulled down, and a new and splendid
structure erected for his Honour, at an expence of not much less than
twenty thousand pounds. To carry the jest as far as it will possibly
endure to be carried, this paragon of mothers and of widows, constantly
carries her dear boy’s miniature picture in her bosom, and exhibits it,
on all occasions, with the most unnatural and preposterous exultation.
So no more at present, good people, of the worthy hostess of _Johnson_.
Accede O tinea illa quæ pusillo
Ventrem corpore tam geris voracem,
Tene Pieridum aggredi ministros
Tene arrodere tam sacros labores
Nec factum mihi denega. Ecce furti
Tui exempla, tuæ et voracitatis.