The Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay Volume I Part 38

"How long do you intend to stay with me, Seward?" cried Mr. Crutchley; "how long do you think you can bear it?"

"O, I don't know; I sha'n't fix," answered the other: "just as I find it."

"Well, but--when shall you come? Friday or Sat.u.r.day? I think you'd better not come till Sat.u.r.day."

"Why, yes, I believe on Friday."

"On Friday! Oh, you'll have too much of it! what shall I do with you?"

"Why, on Sunday we'll dine at the Lyells'. Mrs. Lyell is a charming woman; one of the most elegant creatures I ever saw."

"Wonderfully so," cried Mr. Crutchley; "I like her extremely--an insipid idiot! She never opens her mouth but in a whisper; I never heard her speak a word in my life. But what must I do with you on Monday? will you come away?"

"Oh, no; I'll stay and see it out."

"Why, how long shall you stay? Why, I must come away myself on Tuesday."

"O, I sha'n't settle yet," cried Mr. Seward, very dryly. "I shall put up six shirts, and then do as I find it."

"Six shirts!" exclaimed Mr. Crutchley '; and then, with equal dryness, added--"Oh, I suppose you wear two a-day."

And so on....

_June 26._--Mr. Crutchley said he had just brought Mr. Seward to town in his phaeton, alive. He gave a diverting account of the visit, which I fancy proved much better than either party pretended to expect, as I find Mr. Seward not only went a day sooner, but stayed two days later, than was proposed; and Mr. Crutchley, on his part, said he had invited him to repeat his visit at any time when he knew not in what other manner "to knock down a day or two. When he was at my place," continued Mr. Crutchley, "he did himself up pretty handsomely; he ate cherries till he complained most bitterly of indigestion, and he poured down madeira and port most plentifully, but without relief. Then he desired to have some peppermint-water, and he drank three gla.s.ses; still that would not do, and he said he must have a large quant.i.ty of ginger. We had no such thing in the house. However, he had brought some, it seems, with him, and then he took that, but still to no purpose. At last, he desired some brandy, and tossed off a gla.s.s of that; and, after all, he asked for a dose of rhubarb. Then we had to send and inquire all over the house for this rhubarb, but our folks had hardly ever heard of such a thing. I advised him to take a good b.u.mper of gin and gunpowder, for that seemed almost all he had left untried."

TWO CELEBRATED d.u.c.h.eSSES DISCUSSED.

_Wednesday, June 26_.--Dr. Johnson, who had been in town some days, returned, and Mr. Crutchley came also, as well as my father. I did not see the two latter till summoned to dinner; and then Dr. Johnson seizing my hand, while with one of his own he gave me a no very gentle tap on the shoulder, half drolly and half reproachfully called out--

"Ah, you little baggage, you! and have you known how long I have been here, and never to come to me?"

And the truth is, in whatever sportive mood he expresses it, he really likes not I should be absent from him half a minute whenever he is here, and not in his own apartment.

Dr. Johnson, as usual, kept me in chat with him in the library after all the rest had dispersed; but when Mr. Crutchley returned again, he went upstairs, and, as I was finishing some work I had in hand, Mr.

Crutchley, either from civility or a sudden turn to loquacity, forbore his books, to talk.

Among other folks, we discussed the two rival d.u.c.h.esses, Rutland and Devonshire.[140] "The former," he said, "must, he fancied, be very weak and silly, as he knew that she endured being admired to her face, and complimented perpetually, both upon her beauty and her dress;" and when I asked whether he was one who joined in trying her--

"Me!" cried he, "no, indeed! I never complimented any body; that is, I never said to any body a thing I did not think, unless I was openly laughing at them, and making sport for other people."

"Oh," cried I, "if everybody went by this rule, what a world of conversation would be curtailed! The d.u.c.h.ess of Devonshire, I fancy, has better parts."

"Oh yes; and a fine, pleasant, open countenance. She came to my sister's once, in Lincolnshire, when I was there, in order to see hare-hunting, which was then quite new to her."

"She is very amiable, I believe," said I, "for all her friends love and speak highly of her."

"Oh, yes, very much so--perfectly good-humoured and unaffected. And her horse was led, and she was frightened; and we told her that was the hare, and that was the dog; and the dog pointed to the hare, and the hare ran away from the dog and then she took courage, and then she was timid;--and, upon my word, she did it all very prettily! For my part, I liked it so well, that in half an hour I took to my own horse, and rode away."

MR. CRUTCHLEY IS BANTERED ABOUT HIS PRIDE.

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.

As soon as we came out of church, he called out--

"Well, Miss Burney, this is what I never can forgive! Am I so proud?"

"I am sure if you are," cried Mrs. Thrale, "you have imposed upon me, for I always thought you the humblest man I knew. Look how Burney casts up her eyes! Why, are you so proud, after all, Mr. Crutchley?"

"I hope not," cried he, rather gravely "but I little thought of ever going to Streatham church to hear I was the proudest man in it."

"Well, but," said I, "does it follow you certainly are so because I say so?"

"Why yes, I suppose I am if you see it, for you are one that see all things and people right."

"Well, it's very odd," said Mrs. Thrale, "I wonder how she found you out."

"I wonder," cried I, laughing, "how you missed finding him out."

"Oh! worse and worse!" cried he. "Why there's no bearing this!"

"I protest, then," said Mrs. Thrale, "he has always taken me in; he seemed to me the humblest creature I knew; always speaking so ill of himself--always depreciating all that belongs to him."

"Why, I did not say," quoth I, "that he had more vanity than other men; on the contrary, I think he has none."

"Well distinguished," cried she; "a man may be proud enough, and yet have no vanity."

"Well, but what is this pride?" cried Mr. Crutchley; "what is it shown in?--what are its symptoms and marks?"

"A general contempt," answered I, undaunted, "of every body and of every thing."