“No,” answered Mrs. Thrale, “he will sit by you, which I am sure will give him great pleasure.”

Soon after we were seated, this great man entered.  I have so true a veneration for him, that the very sight of him inspires me with delight and reverence, notwithstanding the cruel infirmities to which he is subject; for he has almost perpetual convulsive movements, either of his hands, lips, feet, or knees, and sometimes of all together.

Mrs. Thrale introduced me to him, and he took his place.  We had a noble dinner, and a most elegant dessert.  Dr. Johnson, in the middle of dinner, asked Mrs. Thrale what were some little pies that were near him.

“Mutton,” answered she, “so I don’t ask you to eat any, because I know you despise it.”

“No, madam, no,” cried he, “I despise nothing that is so good of its sort; but I am too proud now to eat of it.  Sitting by Miss Burney makes me very proud to-day!”

“Miss Burney,” said Mrs. Thrale, laughing, “you must take care of your heart if Dr. Johnson attacks it for I assure you he is not often successless.”

“What’s that you say, madam?” cried he; “are you Making mischief between the young lady and me already?”

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A little while after he drank Miss Thrale’s health and mine, and then added:  “Tis a terrible thing that we cannot wish young ladies well, without wishing them to become old women!”

“But some people,” said Mr. Seward, “are old and young at the same time, for they wear so well that they never look old.”

No, sir, no,” cried the doctor, laughing; “that never yet was; you might as well say they are at the same time tall and short.  I remember an epitaph to that purpose, which is in—­”

(I have quite forgot what,—­and also the name it was made upon, but the rest I recollect exactly:)

“——­lies buried here;
So early wise, so lasting fair,
That none, unless her years you told,
Thought her a child, or thought her old.”

We left Streatham at about eight o’clock, and Mr. Seward, who handed me into the chaise, added his interest to the rest, that my father would not fail to bring me next week.  In short I was loaded with civilities from them all.  And my ride home was equally happy with the rest of the day, for my kind and most beloved father was so happy in my happiness, and congratulated me so sweetly, that he could, like myself, think on no other subject:  and he told me that, after passing through such a house as that, I could have nothing to fear-meaning for my book, my honoured book.

Yet my honours stopped not here ; for Hetty, who, with her sposo, was here to receive us, told me she had lately met Mrs. Reynolds,(44) sister of Sir Joshua; and that she talked very much and very highly of a new novel called “Evelina”; though without a shadow of suspicion as to the scribbler ; and not contented with her own praise, she said that Sir Joshua, who began it one day when he was too much engaged to go on with it, was so much caught, that he could think of nothing else, and was quite absent all the day, not knowing a word that was said to him :  and, when he took it up again, found himself so much interested in it, that he sat up all night to finish it!  Sir Joshua, it seems, vows he would give fifty pounds to