“I shall waive any further gratification of my wish to tell you, Sir, how much I have been delighted by your productions, and proceed to the business of this letter; which is no other than to beg the favour of you to inform me, by the way that will give you the least trouble, when, and in what manner, your admirably planned, and long wished-for Dictionary will be published? If it should be by subscription, or you should have any books at your own disposal, I shall beg of you to favour me with six copies for myself and friends, for which I will send you a draft.
“I ought to beg pardon of the public as well as yourself, Sir, for detaining you thus long from your useful labours; but it is the fate of men of eminence to be persecuted by insignificant friends as well as enemies; and the simple cur who barks through fondness and affection, is no less troublesome than if stimulated by anger and aversion.
“I hope, however, that your philosophy will incline you to forgive the intemperance of my zeal and impatience in making these inquiries; as well as my ambition to subscribe myself, with very great regard,
“Sir, your sincere admirer, and most humble servant,
“CHARLES BURNEY.”
“Lynn Regis, 16th Feb. 1755.”
Within two months of the date of this letter, its writer was honoured with the following answer.
“To Mr. Burney, in Lynn Regis, Norfolk.
“SIR,
“If you imagine that by delaying my answer I intended to shew any neglect of the notice with which you have favoured me, you will neither think justly of yourself nor of me. Your civilities were offered with too much elegance not to engage attention; and I have too much pleasure in pleasing men like you, not to feel very sensibly the distinction which you have bestowed upon me.
“Few consequences of my endeavours to please or to benefit mankind, have delighted me more than your friendship thus voluntarily offered; which, now I have it, I hope to keep, because I hope to continue to deserve it.
“I have no Dictionaries to dispose of for myself; but shall be glad to have you direct your friends to Mr. Dodsley, because it was by his recommendation that I was employed in the work.
“When you have leisure to think again upon me, let me be favoured with another letter, and another yet, when you have looked into my Dictionary. If you find faults, I shall endeavour to mend them: if you find none, I shall think you blinded by kind partiality: but to have made you partial in his favour will very much gratify the ambition of,
“Sir,
“Your most obliged
“And most humble servant,
“Gough-square, Fleet-street,— “SAM. JOHNSON.”
“ April 8, 1755.”
A reply so singularly encouraging, demanding “another letter,” and yet “another,” raised the spirits, and flattered the hopes — it might almost be said the foresight — of Mr. Burney, with a prospect of future intimacy, that instigated the following unaffected answer.
“SIR,
“That you should think my letter worthy of notice was what I began to despair of; and, indeed, I had framed and admitted several reasons for your silence, more than sufficient for your exculpation. But so highly has your politeness over-rated my intentions, that I find it impossible for me to resist accepting the invitation with which you have honoured me, of writing to you again, though conscious that I have nothing to offer that can by any means merit your attention.
“It is with the utmost impatience that I await the possession of your great work, in which every literary difficulty will be solved, and curiosity gratified, at least as far as English literature is concerned: nor am I fearful of letting expectation rise to the highest summit in which she can accompany reason.
“From what you are pleased to say concerning Mr. Dodsley, I shall ever think myself much his debtor; but yet I cannot help suspecting that you intended him a compliment when you talked of recommendation. Is it possible that the world should be so blind, or booksellers so stupid, as to need other recommendation than your own? Indeed, I shall honour both, world and booksellers, so far as to substitute solicitation in the place of the above humiliating term.
“Perhaps you will smile when I inform you, that since first the rumour of your Dictionary’s coming abroad this winter was spread, I have been supposed to be marvellously deep in politics: not a sun has set since the above time without previously lighting me to the coffee-house; nor risen, without renewing my curiosity. But time, the great revealer of secrets, has at length put an end to my solicitude; for, if there be truth in book men, I can now, by cunning calculation, foretell the day and hour when it will arrive at Lynn.
“If, which is probable, I should fix my future abode in London, I cannot help rejoicing that I shall then be an inhabitant of the same town, and exulting that I shall then be a fellow citizen with Mr. Johnson; and were it possible I could be honoured with a small share of his esteem, I should regard it as the most grateful circumstance of my life. And — shall I add, that I have a female companion, whose intellects are sufficiently masculine to enter into the true spirit of your writings, and, consequently, to have an enthusiastic zeal for them and their author? How happy would your presence make us over our tea, so often meliorated by your productions!
“If, in the mean time, your avocations would permit you to bestow a line or two upon me, without greatly incommoding yourself, it would communicate the highest delight to
“Sir,
“Your most obedient,
“And most humble servant,
“CHAS. BURNEY.”
“Have you, Sir, ever met with a little French book, entitled, ‘Synonimes François, par M. l’Abbé Girard?’ I am inclined to imagine, if you have not seen it, that it would afford you, as a philologer, some pleasure, it being written with great spirit, and, I think, accuracy: but I should rejoice to have my opinion either confirmed or corrected by yours. If you should find any difficulty in procuring the book, mine is wholly at your service.”
“Lynn Regis, April 14th, 1755.”
To this letter there was little chance of any answer, the demanded “another,” relative to the Dictionary, being still due.
That splendid, and probably, from any single intellect, unequalled work, for vigour of imagination and knowledge amidst the depths of erudition, came out in 1756. And, early in 1757, Mr. Burney paid his faithful homage to its author.
“To Mr. Johnson, Gough-square.
“SIR,
“Without exercising the greatest self-denial, I should not have been able thus long to withhold from you my grateful acknowledgments for the delight and instruction you have afforded me by means of your admirable Dictionary — a work, I believe, not yet equalled in any language; for, not to mention the accuracy, precision, and elegance of the definitions, the illustrations of words are so judiciously and happily selected as to render it a repository, and, I had almost said, universal register of whatever is sublime or beautiful in English literature. In looking for words, we constantly find things. The road, indeed, to the former, is so flowery as not to be travelled with speed, at least by me, who find it impossible to arrive at the intelligence I want, without bating by the way, and revelling in collateral entertainment. Were I to express all that I think upon this subject, your Dictionary would be stript of a great part of its furniture: but as praise is never gratefully received by the justly deserving till a deduction is first made of the ignorance or partiality of him who bestows it, I shall support my opinion by a passage from a work of reputation among our neighbours, which, if it have not yet reached you, I shall rejoice at being the first to communicate, in hopes of augmenting the satisfaction arising from honest fame, and a conviction of having conferred benefits on mankind: well knowing with how parsimonious and niggard a hand men administer comfort of the kind to modest merit.
“‘Le savant et ingenieux M. Samuel Johnson, qui, dans I’incomparable feuille periodique intitulée le Rambler, apprenoit à ses compatriotes à penser avec justesse sur les matières les plus interessantes, vient de
leur fournir des secours pour bien parler, et pour écrire correctement; talens que personne, peut être, ne possede dans un degré plus eminent que lui. Il n’ y a qu’une voix sur le succès de fauteur pour epurer, fixer, et enricher une langue dont son Rambler montre si admirablement l’abondance et la force, l’elegance et l’harmonie.
“Bibliotheque des Savans. Tom iii p. 482.
“Though I had constantly in my remembrance the encouragement with which you flattered me in your reply to my first letter, yet knowing that civility and politeness seem often to countenance actions which they would not perform, I could hardly think myself entitled to the permission you gave me of writing to you again, had I not lately been apprised of your intention to oblige the admirers of Shakespeare with a new edition of his works by subscription. But, shall I venture to tell you, notwithstanding my veneration for you and Shakespeare, that I do not partake of the joy which the selfish public seem to feel on this occasion? — so far from it, I could not but be afflicted at reflecting, that so exalted, so refined a genius as the author of the Rambler, should submit to a task so unworthy of him as that of a mere editor: for who would not grieve to see a Palladio, or a Jones, undergo the dull drudgery of carrying rubbish from an old building, when he should be tracing the model of a new one? But I detain you too long from the main subject of this letter, which is to beg a place in the subscription for,
The Right Hon the Earl of Brigs Carey, Esq.
Orford, — Archdale Wilson, Esq.
Miss Mason, — Richard Fuller, Esq.
“And for, Sir,
“Your most humble, and extremely devoted servant,
“CHARLES BURNEY.”
“Lynn Regis,
28th March, 1757.”
It was yet some years later than this last date of correspondence, before Mr. Burney found an opportunity of paying his personal respects to Dr. Johnson; who then, in 1760, resided in chambers at the Temple. No account, unfortunately, remains of this first interview, except an anecdote that relates to Mr. Bewley.
While awaiting the appearance of his revered host, Mr. Burney recollected a supplication from the philosopher of Massingham, to be indulged with some token, however trifling or common, of his friend’s admission to the habitation of this great man. Vainly, however, Mr. Burney looked around the apartment for something that he might innoxiously purloin. Nothing but coarse and necessary furniture was in view; nothing portable — not even a wafer, the cover of a letter, or a split pen, was to be caught; till, at length, he had the happiness to espie an old hearth broom in the chimney corner. From this, with hasty glee, he cut off a bristly wisp, which he hurried into his pocket-book; and afterwards formally folded in silver paper, and forwarded, in a frank, to Lord Orford, for Mr. Bewley; by whom the burlesque offering was hailed with good-humoured acclamation, and preserved through life.
LYNN REGIS.
In this manner passed on, quick though occupied, and happy though toilsome, nine or ten years in Norfolk; when the health of Mr. Burney being re-established, and his rising reputation demanding a wider field for expansion, a sort of cry was raised amongst his early friends to spur his return to the metropolis.
Fully, however, as he felt the flattery of that cry, and ill as, in its origin, he had been satisfied with his Lynn residence, he had now experienced from that town and its vicinity, so much true kindness, and cordial hospitality, that his reluctance to quit them was verging upon renouncing such a measure; when he received the following admonition upon the subject from his first friend, and earliest guide, Mr. Crisp.
“To MR. BURNEY.
* * * * *
“I have no more to say, my dear Burney, about harpsichords: and if you remain amongst your foggy aldermen, I shall be the more indifferent whether I have one or not. But really, among friends, is not settling at Lynn, planting your youth, genius, hopes, fortune, &c., against a north wall? Can you ever expect ripe, high-flavoured fruit, from such an aspect? Your underrate prices in the town, and galloping about the country for higher, especially in the winter — are they worthy of your talents? In all professions, do you not see every thing that has the least pretence to genius, fly up to the capital — the centre of riches, luxury, taste, pride, extravagance, — all that ingenuity is to fatten upon? Take, then, your spare person, your pretty mate, and your brats, to that propitious mart, and,
‘Seize the glorious, golden opportunity,’
while yet you have youth, spirits, and vigour to give fair play to your abilities, for placing them and yourself in a proper point of view. And so I give you my blessing.
“SAMUEL CRISP.”
Mr. Crisp, almost immediately after this letter, visited, and for some years, the continent.
This exhortation, in common with whatever emanated from Mr. Crisp, proved decisive; and Mr. Burney fixed at once his resolve upon returning to the capital; though some years still passed ere he could put it in execution.
The following are his reflections, written at a much later period, upon this determination.
After enumerating, with warm regard, the many to whom he owed kindness in the county of Norfolk, he adds:
“All of these, for nearly thirty miles round, had their houses and tables pressingly open to me: and, in the town of Lynn, my wife, to all evening parties, though herself no card player, never failed to be equally invited; for she had a most delightful turn in conversation, seasoned with agreeable wit, and pleasing manners; and great powers of entering into the humours of her company; which, with the beauty of her person, occasioned her to receive more invitations than she wished; as she was truly domestic, had a young family on her hands, and, generally, one of them at her breast. But whenever we could spend an evening at home, without disappointing our almost too kind inviters, we had a course of reading so various and entertaining, in history, voyages, poetry, and, as far as Chambers’ Dictionary, the Philosophical Transactions, and the French Encyclopedia, to the first edition of which I was a subscriber, could carry us, in science, that those tête à tête seclusions were what we enjoyed the most completely.
“This, of course, raised my wife far above all the females of Lynn, who were, then, no readers, with the exception of Mrs. Stephen Allen and Dolly Young. And this congeniality of taste brought on an intimacy of friendship in these three females, that lasted during their several lives.
“My wife was the delight of all her acquaintance; excellent mother — zealous friend — of highly superior intellects.
“We enjoyed at Lynn tranquillity and social happiness—”
* * * * *
Here again must be inserted another poetical epistle, written, during a short separation, while still at Lynn; which shews that, with whatever fervour of passion he married, he himself was “that other happy man,” in the words of Lord Lyttleton, who had found “How much the wife is dearer than the bride.”
TO MRS. BURNEY.
“To thee, henceforth, my matchless mate,
My leisure hours I’ll dedicate;
To thee my inmost thoughts transmit,
Whene’er the busy scene I quit.
For thee, companion dear! I feel
An unextinguishable zeal;
A love implanted in the mind,
From all the grosser dregs refined.
Ah! tell me, must not love like mine
Be planted by a hand divine,
Which, when creation’s work was done,
Our heart-strings tuned in unison?
If business, or domestic care
The vigour of my mind impair;
If forc’d by toil from thee to rove,
‘Till wearied limbs forget to move,
At night, reclin’d upon thy breast,
Thy converse lulls my soul to rest.
If sickness her distemper’d brood
Let loose, — to burn, or freeze my blood,
Thy tender vigilance and care,
My feeble frame can soon repair.
When in some doubtful maze I stray,
/>
’Tis thou point’st out the unerring way;
If judgment float on wavering wings,
In notions vague of men and things;
If different views my mind divide,
Thy nod instructs me to decide.
My pliant soul ’tis thou can’st bend,
My help! companion! wife! and friend!
When, in the irksome day of trouble
The mental eye sees evils double,
Sweet partner of my hopes and fears!
’Tis thou alone can’st dry my tears.
’Tis thou alone can’st bring relief,
Partner of every joy and grief I
E’en when encompass’d with distress,
Thy smile can every ill redress.
On thee, my lovely, faithful friend,
My worldly blessings all depend:
But if a cloud thy visage low’r,
Not all the wealth in Plutus’ power,
Could buy my heart one peaceful hour.
Then, lodg’d within that aching heart,
Is sorrow’s sympathetic dart.
* * * *
But when upon that brow, the seat
Of sense refin’d, and beauty sweet,
The graces and the loves are seen,
And Venus sits by Wisdom’s queen;
Pale sadness takes her heavy flight,
And, envious, shuns the blissful sight.
So when the sun has long endur’d
Complete Works of Frances Burney Page 380