loaded with cameos, his tongue runs over with virt`u; and that both may contribute to the improvement of their own country, they have introduced bouts-rim`es as a new discovery.  They hold a Parnassus-fair every Thursday, give out rhymes and themes, and all the flux of quality at Bath contend for the prizes.  A Roman vase, dressed with pink ribands and myrtles, receives the poetry, which is drawn out every festival:  six judges of these Olympic games retire and select the brightest compositions, which the respective successful acknowledge, kneel to Mrs. Calliope (Miller), kiss her fair hand, and are crowned by it with myrtle.”  Works, vol. v.  P. 183-Ed.

(124) Not our old acquaintance, Mrs. Cholmondeley, but a lady whom Fanny met for the first time during this season at Bath.-Ed.

(125) See ante, note 121, p. 170.-Ed.

(126) Beattie’s “Essay on Truth,” published in 1770, and containing a feeble attack on Hume.  Commonplace as the book is, it was received with rapture by the Orthodox, and Reynolds painted a fine picture of Beattie, standing with the “Essay” under his arm, while the angel of Truth beside him, drives away three demonic figures, in whose faces we trace a resemblance to the portraits of Hume, Voltaire, and Gibbon.  For this piece of flattery the painter was justly rebuked by Goldsmith, whose sympathies were certainly not on the side of infidelity.  “It very ill becomeF a mann Of your eminence and character,” said the poet, “to debase so high a genius as Voltaire before so mean a writer as Beattie.  Beattie and his book will be forgotten in ten years, while Voltaire’s fame will last for ever.  Take care it does not perpetuate this picture, to the shame of such a man as you."-Ed.

(127) Charlotte Lewis.-Ed.

(128) Sir Clement Willoughby, a rakish baronet in “Evelina."-Ed.

(129) This flirtation came to nothing, as Captain Brisbane proved himself a jilt.  The following month Miss Burney wrote to Mrs. Thrale as follows:—­ “Your account of Miss M-’s being taken in, and taken in by Captain Brisbane, astonishes me! surely not half we have heard either of her adorers, or her talents, can have been true.  Mrs. Byron has lost too little to have anything to lament, except, indeed, the time she sacrificed to foolish conversation, and the civilities she threw away upon so worthless a subject.  Augusta has nothing to reproach herself with, and riches and wisdom must be rare indeed, if she fares not as well with respect to both, as she would have done with an adventurer whose pocket, it seems, was as empty as his head."-Ed.

(130) Sir John Fielding, the magistrate; brother of the novelist.-Ed.

(131) Mr Thrale’s brewery in Southwark.  His town house in Grosvenor Square was threatened by the mob, but escaped destruction.-Ed.

(132) The manager of Mr. Thrale’s brewery.-Ed.