Diary from the French Court, Book IV

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This is book 4 in the series depicting the personal diary of Fannys own life and experience at the French Court, the madness of kings and the life and death, agony and pain, joy and wonders of the French Revolution.

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Young Mr. Crutchley Ruffles Miss Burney.

Streatham, May.

Miss Owen and I arrived here without incident, which, in a journey of six or seven miles, was really marvellous.
Mrs. Thrale came from the Borough with two of the executors, Dr. Johnson and Mr Crutchley soon after us. She had been sadly worried, and in the evening frightened us all by again fainting away. Dear creature! she is all agitation of mind and of body: but she is now wonderfully recovered though in continual fevers about her affairs, which are mighty difficult and complicate indeed. Yet the behaviour of all the executors is exactly to her wish. Mr. Crutchley, in particular, was he a darling son or only brother could not possibly be more truly devoted to her.

Indeed., I am very happy in the revolution in my own mind in favour of this young man, whom formerly I so little liked; for I now see so much of him, business and inclination uniting to bring him hither continually, that if he were disagreeable to me, I should spend my time in a most comfortless manner. On the contrary, I both respect and esteem him very highly; for his whole conduct manifests so much goodness of heart and excellence of principle, that he is Un homme comme ill y en a peu; and that first appearance of coldness, pride, reserve, and sneering, all wears off upon further acquaintance, and leaves behind nothing but good-humour and good-will. And this you must allow to be very candid, when I tell you that, but yesterday, he affronted me so much by a piece Of impertinence that I had a very serious quarrel with him.

Sunday morning nobody went to church but Mr. Crutchley, Miss Thrale, and myself; and some time after, when I was sauntering upon the lawn before the house, Mr. Crutchley joined me. We were returning together into the house, when, Mrs. Thrale, popping her head out of her dressing-room window, called out,

“How nicely these men domesticate among us, Miss Burney! Why, they take to us as natural as life!”
“Well, well,” cried Mr. Crutchley, “I have sent for my horse, and I shall release you early tomorrow morning, I think yonder comes Sir Philip.”1
“Oh! you’ll have enough to do with him,” cried she, laughing; “he is well prepared to plague you, I assure you.”
“Is he?—and what about?”

“Why, about Miss Burney. He asked me the other day what was my present establishment. ‘Mr. Crutchley and Miss Burney,’ I answered. ‘How well those two names go together,’ cried he; ‘I think they can’t do better than make a match of it: I will consent, I am sure,’ he added; and today, I dare say, you will hear enough of it.”

I leave you to judge if I was pleased at this stuff thus communicated; but Mrs. Thrale, with all her excellence, can give up no occasion of making sport, however unseasonable, or even painful.
“I am very much obliged to him, indeed,” cried I, dryly; and Mr. Crutchley called out, “Thank him!—thank him!” in a voice of pride and of pique that spoke him mortally angry.
I instantly came into the house, leaving him to talk it out with Mrs. Thrale, to whom I heard him add, “So this is Sir Philip’s kindness!” and her answer, “I wish you no worse luck!”

Now, what think you of this? was it not highly insolent?—and from a man who has behaved to me hitherto with the utmost deference, good-nature, and civility, and given me a thousand reasons, by every possible opportunity, to think myself very high indeed in his good opinion and good graces? But these rich men think themselves the constant prey of all portionless girls, and are always upon their guard, and suspicious of some design to take them in. This sort of disposition I had very early observed in Mr. Crutchley, and therefore I had been more distant and cold with him than with anybody I ever met with; but latterly his character had risen so much in my mind, and his behaviour was so much improved, that I had let things take their own course, and no more shunned than I sought him; for I evidently saw his doubts concerning me and my plots were all at an end, and his civility and attentions were daily increasing, so that I had become very comfortable with him, and well pleased with his society.

I need not, I think, add that I determined to see as little of this most fearful and haughty gentleman in future as was in my power, since no good qualities can compensate for such arrogance of suspicion; and, therefore, as I had reason enough to suppose he would, in haste, resume his own reserve, I resolved, without much effort, to be beforehand with him in resuming mine.

Miss Burney

Sulks on

At dinner we had a large and most disagreeable party of Irish ladies, whom Mrs. Thrale was necessitated to invite from motives of business and various connections.

I was obliged to be seated between Miss O’Riley and Mr. Crutchley, to whom you may believe I was not very courteous, especially as I had some apprehension of Sir Philip. Mr. Crutchley, however, to my great surprise, was quite as civil as ever, and endeavoured to be as chatty; but there I begged to be excused, only answering upon the reply, and that very dryly, for I was indeed horribly provoked with him.
I was much diverted during dinner by this Miss O’Riley, who took it in her humour to attack Mr. Crutchley repeatedly, though so discouraging a beau never did I see! Her forwardness, and his excessive and inordinate coldness, made a contrast that, added to her brogue, which was broad, kept me in a grin irrepressible.

In the afternoon we had also Mr. Wallace, the attorney general, a most squat and squab looking man. In the evening, when the Irish ladies, the Perkinses, Lambarts, and Sir Philip, had gone, Mrs. Thrale walked out with Mr. Wallace, whom she had some business to talk over with; and then, when only Miss Owen, Miss T., and I remained, Mr. Crutchley, after repeatedly addressing me, and gaining pretty dry answers, called out suddenly,
“Why, Miss Burney! why, what’s the matter?”
“Why, are you stricken, or smitten, or ill?”
“None of the three.”
“Oh, then, you are setting down all these Irish folks.”
“No, indeed; I don’t think them worth the trouble.”
“Oh, but I am sure you are; only I interrupted you.”

I went on no further with the argument, and Miss Thrale proposed our walking out to meet her mother. We all agreed and Mr. Crutchley would not be satisfied without walking near me, though I really had no patience to talk with him, and wished him at Jericho.
“What’s the matter?” said he; “have you had a quarrel?”
“Are you affronted?”

Not a word. Then again he called to Miss Thrale—
“Why, Queeny—why, she’s quite in a rage! What have you done to her?”
I still sulked on, vexed to be teased; but, though with a gaiety that showed he had no suspicion of the cause, he grew more and more urgent, trying every means to make me tell him what was the matter, till at last, much provoked, I said—

“I must be strangely in want of a confidant, indeed, to take you for one!”

“Why, what an insolent speech!” cried he, half serious and half laughing, but casting up his eyes and hands with astonishment. He then let me be quiet some time,—but in a few minutes renewed his inquiries, with added eagerness, begging me to tell him if nobody else.

A likely matter! thought I; nor did I scruple to tell him, when forced to answer, that no one had such little chance of success in such a request.
“Why so?” cried he; “for I am the best person in the world to trust with a secret, as I always forget it.”

He continued working at me till we joined Mrs. Thrale and the attorney-general. And then Miss Thrale, stimulated by him, came to inquire if I had really taken anything amiss of her. “No,” I assured her.
“Is it of me, then?” cried Mr. Crutchley, as if sure I should say no; but I made no other answer than to desire him to desist questioning me. . . .
He then grew quite violent, and at last went on with his questions till, by being quite silent, he could no longer doubt who it was. He seemed then wholly amazed, and entreated to know what he had done; but I tried only to avoid him.

Soon after the attorney-general took his leave, during which ceremony Mr. Crutchley, coming behind me, exclaimed,—
“Who’d think of this creature’s having any venom in her.”
“Oh, yes,” answered I, “when she’s provoked.”
“But have I provoked you?”
Again I got off. Taking Miss Thrale by the arm, we hurried away, leaving him with Mrs. Thrale and Miss Owen.
He was presently, however, with us again; and when he came to my side and found me really trying to talk of other matters with Miss Thrale, and avoid him, he called out,
“Upon my life, this is too bad! Do tell me, Miss Burney, what is the matter? If you won’t, I protest I’ll call Mrs. Thrale, and make her work at you herself.”

“I assure you,” answered I, “that it will be to no purpose for I must offend myself by telling it, and therefore I shall mention it to nobody.”
“But what in the world have I done?”
“Nothing; you have done nothing.”
“What have I said, then? Only let me beg your pardon, only let me know what it is, that I may beg your pardon.”

I then took up the teasing myself, and quite insisted upon his leaving us, and joining Mrs. Thrale. He begged me to tell Miss Thrale, and let her mediate, and entreated her to be his agent; which, in order to get rid of him, she promised; and he then slackened his pace, though very reluctantly, while we quickened ours. He was, however, which I very little expected, too uneasy to stay long away; and when we had walked on quite out of hearing of Mrs. Thrale and Miss Owen, he suddenly galloped after us.
“How odd it is of you,” said Miss Thrale, “to come and intrude yourself in this manner upon anybody that tries so to avoid you!”
“Have you done anything for me?” cried he. “I don’t believe you have said a word.”
“Not I, truly!” answered she; “if I can keep my own self, out of scrapes, it’s all I can pretend to.”

“Well, but do tell me, Miss Burney,—pray tell me! indeed, this is quite too bad; I sha’n’t have a wink of sleep all night! If I have offended you, I am very sorry indeed; but I am sure I did not mean—”

“No, sir!” interrupted I, “I don’t suppose you did mean to offend me, nor do I know why you should. I expect from you neither good nor ill,—civility I think myself entitled to, and that is all I have any desire for.”
“Good heaven!” exclaimed he. “Tell me, however, but what it is, and if I have said any thing unguardedly, I am extremely sorry, and I most sincerely beg your pardon. If you would tell me, I am sure I could explain it off, because I am sure it has been done undesignedly.”
“No, it does not admit of any explanation; so pray don’t mention it any more.”
“Only tell me what part of the day it was.”

Was this his unconsciousness

Whether this unconsciousness was real, or only to draw me in so that he might come to the point, and make his apology with greater ease, I know not; but I assured him it was in vain he asked, and again desired him to puzzle himself with no further recollections.
“Oh,” cried he, “but I shall think of every thing I have ever said to you for this half year. I am sure, whatever it was, it must have been unmeant and unguarded.”
“That, Sir, I never doubted; and probably you thought me hard enough to hear any thing without minding it.”
“Good heaven, Miss Burney! why, there is nobody I would not sooner offend,—nobody in the world! Queeny knows it. If Queeny would speak, she could tell you so. Is it not true, Miss Thrale?”
“I shall say nothing about it; if I can keep my own neck out of the collar, it’s enough for me.”
“But won’t it plead something for me that you are sure, and must be sure, it was by blunder, and not design? . . . I beg you will think no more of it. I—I believe I know what it is; and, indeed, I was far from meaning to give you the smallest offence, and I most earnestly beg your pardon. There is nothing I would not do to assure you how sorry I am. But I hope it will be all over by the time the candles come. I shall look to see, and I hope—I beg—you will have the same countenance again.”

I now felt really appeased, and so I told him.
We then talked of other matters till we reached home, though it was not without difficulty I could even yet keep him quiet. I see that Mr. Crutchley, though of a cold and proud disposition, is generous, amiable, and delicate, and, when not touched upon the tender string of gallantry, concerning which he piques himself upon invariable hardness and immoveability, his sentiments are not merely just, but refined.


the Blanket of night and dream is where tomorrows amber day field is born

We had Mr. and Mrs. Davenant here. They are very lively and agreeable, and I like them more’ and more. Mrs. Davenant is one of the saucy women of the ton, indeed; but she has good parts, and is gay and entertaining; and her sposo, who passionately adores her, though five years her junior, is one of the best-tempered and most pleasant-charactered young men imaginable. . . .
“Mrs. Davenant is very agreeable,” said I to Mr. Crutchley, “I like her much. Don’t you?”
“Yes, very much,” said he; “she is lively and entertaining;” and then a moment after, “’Tis wonderful,” he exclaimed, “that such a thing as that can captivate a man!”
“Nay,” cried I, “nobody more, for her husband quite adores her.”
“So I find,” said he; “and Mrs. Thrale says men in general like her.”
“They certainly do,” cried I, “and all the oddity is in you who do not, not in them who do.”
“May be so,” answered he, “but it don’t do for me, indeed.”

We then came to two gates, and there I stopped short, to wait till they joined us; and Mr. Crutchley, turning about and looking at Mrs. Davenant, as she came forward, said, rather in a muttering voice, and to himself than to me, “What a thing for an attachment! No, no, it would not do for me!—too much glare! too much flippancy! too much hoop! too much gauze! too much slipper! too much neck! Oh, hide it! hide it! muffle it up! muffle it up! If it is but in a fur cloak, I am for muffling it all up!”

A “Poor wretch of a Painter.”

I had new specimens today of the oddities of Mr. Crutchley, whom I do not yet quite understand, though I have seen so much of him. In the course of our walks today we chanced, at one time, to be somewhat before the rest of the company, and soon got into a very serious conversation; though we began it by his relating a most ludicrous incident which had happened to him last winter.

There is a certain poor wretch of a villainous painter, one Mr. Lowe,2 who is in some measure under Dr. Johnson’s protection, and whom, therefore, he recommends to all the people he thinks can afford to sit for their pictures. Among these he made Mr. Seward very readily, and then applied to Mr. Crutchley.

“But now,” said Mr. Crutchley, as he told me the circumstance, “I have not a notion of sitting for my picture,—for who wants it? I may as well give the man the money without; but no, they all said that would not do so well, and Dr. Johnson asked me to give him my picture. ‘And I assure you, sir,’ says he, ‘I shall put it in very good company, for I have portraits of some very respectable people in my dining-room.’ ‘Ay, sir,’ says I, ‘that’s sufficient reason why you should not have mine, for I am sure it has no business in such society.’ So then Mrs. Thrale asked me to give it to her. ‘Ay sure, ma’am,’ says I, ‘you do me great honour; but pray, first, will you do me the favour to tell me what door you intend to put it behind?’ However, after all I could say in opposition, I was obliged to go to the painter’s.

And I found him in such a condition! a room all dirt and filth, brats squalling and wrangling, up two pair of stairs, and a closet, of which the door was open, that Seward well said was quite Pandora’s box—it was the repository of all the nastiness, and stench, and filth, and food, and drink, and——oh, it was too bad to be borne! and ‘Oh!’ says I, ‘Mr. Lowe, I beg your pardon for running away, but I have just recollected another engagement;’ so I poked the three guineas in his hand, and told him I would come again another time, and then ran out of the house with all my might.”

Wednesday—We had a terrible noisy day. Mr. and Mrs. Cator came to dinner, and brought with them Miss Collison, a niece. Mrs. Nesbitt was also here, and Mr. Pepys.

The long war which has been proclaimed among the wits concerning Lord Lyttelton’s “Life,” by Dr. Johnson, and which a whole tribe of “blues,” with Mrs. Montagu at their head, have vowed to execrate and revenge, now broke out with all the fury of the first actual hostilities, stimulated by long concerted schemes and much spiteful information. Mr. Pepys, Dr. Johnson well knew, was one of Mrs. Montagu’s steadiest abettors; and, therefore, as he had some time determined to defend himself with the first of them he met, this day he fell the sacrifice to his wrath.

DR Johnson

In a rage

In a long tête-à-tête which I accidentally had with Mr. Pepys before the company was assembled, he told me his apprehensions of an attack, and entreated me earnestly to endeavour to prevent it; modestly avowing he was no antagonist for Dr. Johnson; and yet declaring his personal friendship for Lord Lyttelton made him so much hurt by the “Life,” that he feared he could not discuss the matter without a quarrel, which, especially in the house of Mrs. Thrale, he wished to avoid.
It was, however, utterly impossible for me to serve him. I could have stopped Mrs. Thrale with ease, and Mr. Seward with a hint, had either of them begun the subject; but, unfortunately, in the middle of dinner, it was begun by Dr. Johnson himself, to oppose whom, especially as he spoke with great anger, would have been madness and folly.
Never before have I seen Dr. Johnson speak with so much passion.

“Mr. Pepys,” he cried, in a voice the most enraged, “I understand you are offended by my ‘Life of Lord Lyttelton.’ What is it you have to say against it? Come forth, man here am I, ready to answer any charge you can bring!”
“No, sir,” cried Mr. Pepys, “not at present; I must beg leave to decline the subject. I told Miss Burney before dinner that I hoped it would not be started.”

I was quite frightened to hear my own name mentioned in a debate which began so seriously; but Dr. Johnson made not—to this any answer, he repeated his attack and his challenge, and a violent disputation ensued, in which this great but mortal man did, to own the truth, appear unreasonably furious and grossly severe. I never saw him so before, and I heartily hope I never shall again. He has been long provoked, and justly enough, at the sneaking complaints and murmurs of the Lytteltonians; and, therefore, his long-excited wrath, which hitherto had met no object, now burst forth with a vehemence and bitterness almost incredible.

Mr. Pepys meantime never appeared to so much advantage; he preserved his temper, uttered all that belonged merely to himself with modesty, and all that more immediately related to Lord Lyttelton with spirit. Indeed, Dr. Johnson, in the very midst of the dispute, had the candour and liberality to make him a personal compliment, by saying
“Sir, all that you say, while you are vindicating one who cannot thank you, makes me only think better of you than I ever did before. Yet still I think you do me wrong,” etc., etc.
Some time after, in the heat of the argument, he called out,—

“The more my Lord Lyttelton is inquired after, the worse he will appear; Mr. Seward has just heard two stories of him, which corroborate all I have related.”
He then desired Mr. Seward to repeat them. Poor Mr. Seward looked almost as frightened as myself at the very mention of his name; but he quietly and immediately told the stories, which consisted of fresh instances, from good authorities, of Lord Lyttelton’s illiberal behaviour to Shenstone; and then he flung himself back in his chair, and spoke no more during the whole debate, which I am sure he was ready to vote a bore.

One happy circumstance, however, attended the quarrel, which was the presence of Mr. Cator, who would by no means be prevented talking himself, either by reverence for Dr. Johnson, or ignorance of the subject in question; on the contrary, he gave his opinion, quite uncalled upon every thing that was said by either party, and that with an importance and pomposity, yet with an emptiness and verbosity, that rendered the whole dispute, when in his hands, nothing more than ridiculous, and compelled even the disputants themselves, all inflamed as they were, to laugh. To give a specimen—one speech will do for a thousand.

“As to this here question of Lord Lyttelton, I can’t speak to it to the purpose, as I have not read his ‘Life,’ for I have only read the ‘Life of Pope;’ I have got the books though, for I sent for them last week, and they came to me on Wednesday, and then I began them; but I have not yet read ‘Lord Lyttelton.’ ‘Pope’ I have begun, and that is what I am now reading. But what I have to say about Lord Lyttelton is this here: Mr. Seward says that Lord Lyttelton’s steward dunned Mr. Shenstone for his rent, by which I understand he was a tenant of Lord Lyttelton’s. Well, if he was a tenant of Lord Lyttelton’s, why should not he pay his rent?”
Who could contradict this?

When dinner was quite over, and we left the men to their wine, we hoped they would finish the affair; but Dr. Johnson was determined to talk it through, and make a battle of it, though Mr. Pepys tried to be off continually. When they were all summoned to tea, they entered still warm and violent. Mr. Cator had the book in his hand, and was reading the “Life of Lyttelton,” that he might better, he said, understand the cause, though not a creature cared if he had never heard of it.
Mr. Pepys came up to me and said—
“Just what I had so much wished to avoid! I have been crushed in the very onset.”

I could make him no answer, for Dr. Johnson immediately called him off, and harangued and attacked him with a vehemence and continuity that quite concerned both Mrs. Thrale and myself, and that made Mr. Pepys, at last, resolutely silent, however called upon. This now grew more unpleasant than ever; till Mr. Cator, having some time studied his book, exclaimed—
“What I am now going to say, as I have not yet read the ‘Life of Lord Lyttelton’ quite through, must be considered as being only said aside, because what I am going to say—”
“I wish, sir,” cried Mrs. Thrale, “it had been all said aside; here is too much about it, indeed, and I should be very glad to hear no more of it.”

This speech, which she made with great spirit and dignity, had an admirable effect. Everybody was silenced. Mr. Cator, thus interrupted in the midst of his proposition, looked quite amazed; Mr. Pepys was much gratified by the interference; and Dr. Johnson, after a pause, said—
“Well, madam, you shall hear no more of it; yet I will defend myself in every part and in every atom!”
And from this time the subject was wholly dropped. This dear violent doctor was conscious he had been wrong, and therefore he most candidly bore the reproof. . . .
When the leave-taking time arrived, Dr. Johnson called to Mr. Pepys to shake hands, an invitation which was most coldly and forcibly accepted.4

The Miserable Host and Melancholy Guest.

Monday, June 17.
There passed, some time ago, an ‘agreement’ between Mr. Crutchley and Mr. Seward, that the latter is to make a visit to the former, at his country house in Berkshire; and today the time was settled; but a more ridiculous scene never was exhibited. The host elect and the guest elect tried which should show least expectation of pleasure from the meeting, and neither of them thought it at all worth while to disguise his terror of being weary of the other. Mr. Seward seemed quite melancholy and depressed in the prospect of making, and Mr. Crutchley absolutely miserable in that of receiving, the visit. Yet nothing so ludicrous as the distress of both, since nothing less necessary than that either should have such a punishment inflicted. I cannot remember half the absurd things that passed—but a few, by way of specimen, I will give.
“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 Saturday? I think you’d better not come till Saturday.”
“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 glasses; still that would not do, and he said he must have a large quantity 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 glass 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 bumper of gin and gunpowder, for that seemed almost all he had left untried.”

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 duchesses, Rutland and Devonshire.5 “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—

Two celebrated Duchesses discussed

“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 Duchess 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.”

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 Sophy6 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.”
“Well said, Miss Burney!” exclaimed Mrs. Thrale. “Why that’s true enough, and so he has.”
“A total indifference,” continued I, “of what is thought of him by others, and a disdain alike of happiness or misery.”
“Bravo, Burney!” cried Mrs. Thrale, “that’s true enough!”

“Indeed,” cried Mr. Crutchley, “you are quite mistaken. Indeed, nobody in the world is half so anxious about the opinions of others; I am wretched—I am miserable if I think myself thought ill of; not, indeed, by everybody, but by those whose good opinion I have tried—there if I fall, no man can be more unhappy.”
“Oh, perhaps,” returned I, “there may be two or three people in the world you may wish should think well of you, but that is nothing to the general character.”
“Oh, no! many more. I am now four-and-thirty, and perhaps, indeed, in all my life I have not tried to gain the esteem of more than four-and-thirty people, but——”

“Oh, leave out the thirty!” cried I, “and then you may be nearer the truth.”
“No, indeed: ten, at least, I daresay I have tried for, but, perhaps, I have not succeeded with two. However, I am thus even with the world; for if it likes me not, I can do without it—I can live alone; and that, indeed, I prefer to any thing I can meet with; for those with whom I like to live are so much above me, that I sink into nothing in their society; so I think it best to run away from them.”

“That is to say,” cried I, “you are angry you cannot yourself excel—and this is not pride?”
“Why, no, indeed; but it is melancholy to be always behind—to hear conversation in which one is unable to join—”
“Unwilling,” quoth I, “you mean.”
“No, indeed, but really unable; and therefore what can I do so well as to run home? As to an inferior, I hope I think that of nobody; and as to my equals, and such as I am on a par with, heaven knows I can ill bear them!—I would rather live alone to all eternity!”
This conversation lasted till we got home, when Mrs. Thrale said—
“Well, Mr. Crutchley, has she convinced you?”
“I don’t know,” cried I, “but he has convinced me.”
“Why, how you smote him,” cried Mrs. Thrale, “but I think you make your part good as you go on.”
“The great difference,” said I, “which I think there is between Mr. Seward and Mr. Crutchley, who in some things are very much alike, is this—Mr. Seward has a great deal of vanity and no pride, Mr. Crutchley a great deal of pride and no vanity.”
“Just, and true, and wise!” said dear Mrs. Thrale, “for Seward is always talking of himself, and always with approbation; Mr. Crutchley seldom mentions himself, and when he does, it is with dislike. And which have I, most pride or most vanity?”
“Oh, most vanity, certa!” quoth I.

At Supper we had only Sir Philip and Mr. Crutchley. The conversation of the morning was then again renewed.—
“Oh!” cried Mrs. Thrale, “what a smoking did Miss Burney give Mr. Crutchley!”
“A smoking, indeed!” cried He. “Never had I such a one before! Never did I think to get such a character! I had no notion of it.”
“Nay, then,” said I, “why should you, now?”
“But what is all this?” cried Sir Philip, delighted enough at any mischief between Mr. Crutchley and me, or between any male and female, for he only wishes something to go forward, and thinks a quarrel or dispute next best to fondness and flirting.

“Why, Miss Burney,” answered she, “gave Mr. Crutchley this morning a noble trimming. I had always thought him very humble, but she shewed me my mistake, and said I had not distinguished pride from vanity.”
“Oh, never was I so mauled in my life,” said he.

Enough, however, of this rattle, which lasted till we all went to bed, and which Mrs. Thrale most kindly kept up, by way of rioting me from thinking, and which Mr. Crutchley himself bore with the utmost good nature, from having noticed that I was out of spirits. . . .

July 2

The other morning Mrs. Thrale ran hastily into my room, her eyes full of tears, and cried,—
“What an extraordinary man is this Crutchley! I declare he has quite melted me! He came to me just now, and thinking I was uneasy I could do no more for Perkins,7 though he cared not himself if the man were drowned, he offered to lend him a thousand pounds, merely by way of giving pleasure to me!”

Well-it was, I think, Saturday, Aug. 25.
That Mrs Thrale brought me back.8 We then took up Mr. Crutchley, who had come to his town-house upon business, and who accompanied us thither for a visit of three days.
In the evening Mr. Seward also came. He has been making the western tour, and gave us, with a seriousness that kept me continually grinning, some account of a doctor, apothecary, or ‘chemist’ belonging to every town at which he had stopped.
And when we all laughed at his thus following up the faculty, he undauntedly said,—

“I think it the best way to get information; I know no better method to learn what is going forward anywhere than to send for the chief physician of the place, so I commonly consult him the first day I stop at a place, and when I have fee’d him, and made acquaintance, he puts me in a way to find out what is worth looking at.”
A most curious mode of picking up a cicerone!

picking up

the Cicerone

After this, still pursuing his favourite topic, he began to inquire into the particulars of Mr. Crutchley’s late illness—but that gentleman, who is as much in the opposite extreme, of disdaining even any decent care of himself, as Mr. Seward is in the other, of devoting almost all his thoughts to his health cut the matter very short, and would not talk upon it at all.
“But, if I had known sooner,” said Mr. Seward, “that you were ill, I should have come to see you.”
“Should you?” cried Mr. Crutchley, with a loud laugh; “very kind, indeed!—it would have been charming to see you when I am ill, when I am afraid of undertaking you even when well!”

Some time after Sophy Streatfield was talked of,—Oh, with how much impertinence as if she was at the service of any man who would make proposals to her! Yet Mr. Seward spoke of her with praise and tenderness all the time, as if, though firmly of this opinion, he was warmly her admirer. From such admirers and such admiration heaven guard me! Mr. Crutchley said but little; but that little was bitter enough.
“However,” said Mr. Seward, “after all that can be said, there is nobody whose manners are more engaging, nobody more amiable than the little Sophy; and she is certainly very pretty; I must own I have always been afraid to trust myself with her.”
Here Mr. Crutchley looked very sneeringly.

“Nay, squire,” cried Mr. Seward, “she is very dangerous, I can tell you; and if she had you at a fair trial, she would make an impression that would soften even your hard heart.”

“No need of any further trial,” answered he, laughing, “for she has done that already; and so soft was the impression that it is absolutely all dissolved!—melted quite away, and not a trace of it left!”
Mr. Seward then proposed that she should marry Sir John Miller,9 who has just lost his wife and very gravely said, he had a great mind to set out for Tunbridge, and carry her with him to Bath, and so make the match without delay!
“But surely,” said Mrs. Thrale, “if you fail, you will think yourself bound in honour to marry her yourself?”

Two girls can surely marry

“Why, that’s the thing,” said he; “no, I can’t take the little Sophy myself; I should have too many rivals; no, that won’t do.”

How abominably conceited and sure these pretty gentlemen are! However, Mr. Crutchley here made a speech that half won my heart.
“I wish,” said he, “Miss Streatfield was here at this moment to cuff you, Seward!”
“Cuff me!” cried he. “What, the little Sophy!—and why?”
“For disposing of her so freely. I think a man deserves to be cuffed for saying any lady will marry him.”
I seconded this speech with much approbation.

August, Monday.

We were to have Mr. Cator and other company to dinner; and all breakfast Mr. Seward kept plaguing poor Mr. Musgrave, who is an incessant talker, about the difficulty he would have in making his part good with Mr. Cator, who, he assured him, would out-talk him if he did not take care. And Mr. Crutchley recommended to him to “wait for a sneeze,” in order to put in; so that he was almost rallied into a passion, though, being very good-natured, he made light of it, and it blew over.
In the middle of dinner I was seized with a violent laughing fit, by seeing Mr. Musgrave, who had sat quite silent, turn very solemnly to Mr. Seward and say in a reproachful tone,—
“Seward, you said I should be fighting to talk all the talk, and here I have not spoke once.”
“Well, sir,” cried Mr. Seward, nodding at him, “why don’t you put in?”

“Why, I lost an opportunity just now, when Mr. Cator—talked of climates; I had something I could have said about them very well.”

After this, however, he made himself amends; for when we left the men to their wine, he began such a violent dispute with Mr Cator, that Mr. Jenkinson and Mr. Crutchley left the field of battle, and went out to join the ladies in their walk round the grounds; and that breaking up the party, the rest soon followed.

By the way, I happened not to walk myself, which was most ludicrously noticed by Mr. Musgrave; who, while we were at tea, suddenly crossed the circle to come up to me, and say,—
“You did not walk, Miss Burney?”
“No, sir.”
“Very much in the right—very much in the right, indeed! You were studying? Oh, very right! never lose a moment! Such an understanding as yours it would be a shame to neglect; it ought to be cultivated every moment.”
And then he hurried back to his seat.

In the evening, when all the company was gone but our three gentlemen, Seward, Crutchley, and Musgrave, we took a walk round the grounds by moonlight—and Mr. Musgrave started with rapture at the appearance of the moon, now full, now cloudy, now clear, now obscured, every three yards we moved.

Friday, Sept. 11.

And now, if I am not mistaken, I come to relate the conclusion of Mr. Crutchley’s most extraordinary summer career at Streatham, which place, I believe, he has now left without much intention to frequently revisit. However, this is mere conjecture; but he really had a run of ill-luck not very inviting to a man of his cold and splenetic turn to play the same game.
When we were just going to supper, we heard a disturbance among the dogs; and Mrs. and Miss Thrale went out to see what was the matter, while Dr. Johnson and I remained quiet. Soon returning.
“A friend! a friend!” she cried, and was followed by Mr. Crutchley. He would not eat with us, but was chatty and in good-humour, and as usual, when in spirits, saucily sarcastic. For instance, it is generally half my employment in hot evenings here to rescue some or other poor buzzing idiot of an insect from the flame of a candle. This, accordingly, I was performing with a Harry Longlegs, which, after much trial to catch, eluded me, and escaped, nobody could see how. Mr. Crutchley vowed I had caught and squeezed him to death in my hand.

“No, indeed,” cried I, “when I catch them, I put them out of the window.”

“Ay, their bodies,” said he, laughing; “but their legs, I suppose, you keep.”
“Not I, indeed; I hold them very safe in the palm of my hand.”
“Oh!” said he, “the palm of your hand! why, it would not hold a fly! But what have you done with the poor wretch! thrown him under the table slily?”
“What good would that do?”
“Oh, help to establish your full character for mercy.”

Now was not that a speech to provoke Miss Grizzle herself? However, I only made up a saucy lip.
“Come,” cried he, offering to take my hand, “where is he? Which hand is he in? Let me examine?”
“No, no, I thank you; I sha’n’t make you my confessor, whenever I take one.”
He did not much like this; but I did not mean he should.

Afterwards he told us a most unaccountably ridiculous story of a crying wife. A gentleman, he said, of his acquaintance had married lately his own kept mistress; and last Sunday he had dined with the bride and bridegroom, but, to his utter astonishment, without any apparent reason in the world, in the middle of dinner or tea, she burst into a violent fit of crying, and went out of the room, though there was not the least quarrel, and the sposo seemed all fondness and attention.
“What, then,” said I, somewhat maliciously, I grant, “had you been saying to er?”
“Oh, thank you!” said he, with a half-affronted bow, “I expected this! I declare I thought you would conclude it was me!”

Manager Heliogabalus.

Somebody told me (but not your father) that the Opera singers would not be likely to get any money out of Sheridan this year.
“Why that fellow grows fat,” says I, “like Heliogabalus, upon the tongues of nightingales.” Did I tell you that bright thing before?—Mrs. Thrale to Fanny Burney.

Sister Authoresses.
(Fanny Burney to Mrs. Philips, late Miss Susan Burney.)
February, 1782.

As I have a frank and a subject, I will leave my bothers, and write you and my dear brother Molesworth10 a little account of a rout I have just been at, at the house of Mr. Paradise.
You will wonder, perhaps, in this time of hurry, why I went thither; but when I tell you Pacchierotti11 was there, you will not think it surprising.
There was a crowd of company; Charlotte and I went together; my father came afterwards. Mrs. Paradise received us very graciously, and led me immediately up to Miss Thrale, who was sitting by the Pac.
We were very late, for we had waited cruelly for the coach, and Pac had sung a song out of “Artaxerxes,” composed for a tenor, which we lost, to my infinite regret. Afterwards he sang “Dolce speme” delightfully.
Mrs. Paradise, leaning over the Kirwans and Charlotte, who hardly got a seat all night for the crowd, said she begged to speak to me. I squeezed my great person out, and she then said,—
“Miss Burney, Lady Say and Sele desires the honour of being introduced to you.”

Her ladyship stood by her side. She seems pretty near fifty-at least turned forty; her head was full of feathers, flowers, jewels, and gew-gaws, and as high as Lady Archer’s her dress was trimmed with beads, silver, persian sashes, and all sorts of fine fancies; her face is thin and fiery, and her whole manner spoke a lady all alive.
“Miss Burney,” cried she, with great quickness, and a look all curiosity, “I am very happy to see you; I have longed to see you a great while. I have read your performance, and I am quite delighted with it. I think it’s the most elegant novel I ever read in my life. Such a style! I am quite surprised at it. I can’t think where you got so much invention!”
You may believe this was a reception not to make me very loquacious. I did not know which way to turn my head.

“I must introduce you,” continued her ladyship, “to my sister; she’ll be quite delighted to see you. She has written a novel herself so you are sister authoresses. A most elegant thing it is, I assure you; almost as pretty as yours, only not quite so elegant. She has written two novels, only one is not so pretty as the other. But I shall insist upon your seeing them. One is in letters, like yours, only yours is prettiest; it’s called the ‘Mausoleum of Julia’!”
What unfeeling things, thought I, are my sisters! I’m sure I never heard them go about thus praising me. Mrs. Paradise then again came forward, and taking my hand, led me up to her ladyship’s sister, Lady Hawke, saying aloud, and with a courteous smirk,
“Miss Burney, ma’am, authoress of ‘Evelina.’”

“Yes,” cried my friend, Lady Say and Sele, who followed me close, “it’s the authoress of ‘Evelina,’ so you are sister authoresses!”

Lady Hawke arose and curtsied. She is much younger than her sister, and rather pretty; extremely languishing, delicate, and pathetic; apparently accustomed to be reckoned the genius of her family, and well contented to be looked upon as a creature dropped from the clouds. I was then seated between their ladyships, and Lady S. and S., drawing as near to me as possible, said,—
“Well, and so you wrote this pretty book!—and pray did your papa know of it?”
“No, ma’am; not till some months after the publication.”
“So I’ve heard—it’s surprising! I can’t think how you invented it!—there’s a vast deal of invention in it! And you’ve got so much humour, too! Now my sister has no humour; hers is all sentiment. You can’t think how I was entertained with that old grandmother and her son!”

I suppose she meant Tom Branghton for the son.

“How much pleasure you must have had in writing it; had not you?”
“Y—e—s, ma’am.”
“So has my sister; she’s never without a pen in her hand; she can’t help writing for her life. When Lord Hawke is travelling about with her, she keeps writing all the way.”
“Yes,” said Lady Hawke; “I really can’t help writing. One has great pleasure in writing the things; has one not, Miss Burney?”
“Y—e—s, ma’am.”
“But your novel,” cried Lady Say and Sele, “is in such a style!—so elegant! I am vastly glad you made it end happily. I hate a novel that don’t end happy.”
“Yes,” said Lady Hawke, with a languid smile, “I was vastly glad when she married Lord Orville. I was sadly afraid it would not have been.”
“My sister intends,” said Lady Say and Sele, “to print her ‘Mausoleum,’ just for her own friends and acquaintances.”
“Yes,” said Lady Hawke; “I have never printed yet.”

“I saw Lady Hawke’s name,” quoth I to my first friend, “ascribed to the play of ‘Variety.’”
“Did you indeed?” cried Lady Say, in an ecstasy. “Sister! do you know Miss Burney saw your name in the newspapers, about the play!”
“Did she?” said Lady Hawke, smiling complacently. “But I really did not write it; I never wrote a play in my life.”
“Well,” cried Lady Say, “but do repeat that sweet part that I am so fond of—you know what I mean; Miss Burney must hear it,—out of your novel, you know!”
Lady H.—No, I can’t; I have forgot it.
Lady S.—Oh, no! I am sure you have not; I insist upon it.
Lady H.—But I know you can repeat it yourself; you have so fine a memory; I am sure you can repeat it.
Lady S.—Oh, but I should not do it justice! that’s all,—I should not do it justice!

Lady Hawke then bent forward, and repeated—”‘If, when he made the declaration of his love, the sensibility that beamed in his eyes was felt in his heart, what pleasing sensations and soft alarms might not that tender avowal awaken!’”

“And from what, ma’am,” cried I, astonished, and imagining I had mistaken them, “is this taken?”
“From my sister’s novel!” answered the delighted Lady Say and Sele, expecting my raptures to be equal to her own; “it’s in the ‘Mausoleum,’—did not you know that? Well, I can’t think how you can write these sweet novels! And it’s all just like that part. Lord Hawke himself says it’s all poetry. For my part, I’m sure I never could write so. I suppose, Miss Burney, you are producing another,—a’n’t you?”
“No, ma’am.”

“Oh, I dare say you are. I dare say you are writing one this Very minute!”
Mrs. Paradise now came up to me again, followed by a square man, middle-aged, and hum-drum, who, I found was Lord Say and Sele, afterwards from the Kirwans, for though they introduced him to me, I was so confounded by their vehemence and their manners, that I did not hear his name.
“Miss Burney,” said Mrs. P., presenting me to him, “authoress of ‘Evelina.’”
“Yes,” cried Lady Say and Sele, starting up, “’tis the authoress of ‘Evelina!’”
“Of what?” cried he.
“Of ‘Evelina.’ You’d never think it,—she looks so young, to have so much invention, and such an elegant style! Well, I could write a play, I think, but I’m sure I could never write a novel.”
“Oh, yes, you could, if you would try,” said Lady Hawke.
“Oh, no, I could not,” answered she; “I could not get a style—that’s the thing—I could not tell how to get a style! and a novel’s nothing without a style, you know!”
“Why no,” said Lady Hawke; “that’s true. But then you write such charming letters, you know!”

“Letters!” repeated Lady S. and S. simpering; “do you think so? Do you know I wrote a long letter to Mrs. Ray just before I came here, this very afternoon,—quite a long letter! I did, I assure you!”

Here Mrs. Paradise came forward with another gentleman, younger, slimmer, and smarter, and saying to me, “Sir Gregory Page Turner,” said to him,
“Miss Burney, authoress of ‘Evelina.’”
At which Lady Say and Sele, In fresh transport, again rose, and rapturously again repeated—
“Yes, she’s authoress of ‘Evelina’! Have you read it?”
“No; is it to be had?”
“Oh dear, yes! it’s been printed these two years! You’d never think it! But it’s the most elegant novel I ever read in my life. Writ in such a style!”
“Certainly,” said he very civilly; “I have every inducement to get it. Pray where is it to be had? everywhere, I suppose?”
“Oh, nowhere, I hope,” cried I, wishing at that moment it had been never in human ken.

My square friend, Lord Say and Sele, then putting his head forward, said, very solemnly, “I’ll purchase it!”

His lady then mentioned to me a hundred novels that I had never heard of, asking my opinion of them, and whether I knew the authors? Lady Hawke only occasionally and languidly joining in the discourse: and then Lady S. and S., suddenly rising, begged me not to move, for she should be back again in a minute, and flew to the next room.
I took, however, the first opportunity of Lady Hawke’s casting down her eyes, and reclining her delicate head, to make away from this terrible set; and, just as I was got by the pianoforte, where I hoped Pacchierotti would soon present himself, Mrs. Paradise again came to me, and said,—

“Miss Burney, Lady Say and Sele wishes vastly to cultivate your acquaintance, and begs to know if she may have the honour of your company to an assembly at her house next Friday?—and I will do myself the pleasure to call for you if you will give me leave.”
“Her ladyship does me much honour, but I am unfortunately engaged,” was my answer, with as much promptness as I could command.

Among the many I have been obliged to shirk this year, for the sake of living almost solely with “Cecilia,” none have had less patience with my retirement than Miss Palmer, who, bitterly believing I intended never to visit her again, has forborne sending me any invitations: but, about three weeks ago, my father had a note from Sir Joshua Reynolds, to ask him to dine at Richmond, and meet the Bishop of St. Asaph,13 and, therefore, to make my peace, I scribbled a note to Miss Palmer to this purpose,

“After the many kind invitations I have been obliged to refuse, will you, my dear Miss Palmer, should I offer to accompany my father tomorrow, bid me remember the old proverb,
‘Those who will not when they may,
When they will, they shall have nay?’


This was graciously received; and the next morning Sir Joshua and Miss Palmer called for my father and me, accompanied by Lord Cork. We had a mighty pleasant ride, Miss Palmer and I “made up,” though she scolded most violently about my long absence, and attacked me about the book without mercy. The book, in short, to my great consternation, I find is talked of and expected all the town over. My dear father himself, I do verily believe, mentions it to everybody; he is fond of it to enthusiasm, and does not foresee the danger of raising such general expectation, which fills me with the horrors every time I am tormented with the thought.

Sir Joshua’s house is delightfully situated, almost at the top of Richmond Hill. We walked till near dinner-time upon the terrace, and there met Mr. Richard Burke, the brother of the orator. Miss Palmer, stopping him, said,—
“Are you coming to dine with us?”
“No,” he answered; “I shall dine at the Star and Garter.”
“How did you come—with Mrs. Burke, or alone?”
“What, on horseback?”

“Ay, sure!” cried he, laughing; “up and ride! Now’s the time.”

And he made a fine flourish with his hand, and passed us. He is just made under-secretary at the Treasury. He is a tall and handsome man, and seems to have much dry drollery; but we saw no more of him.
After our return to the house, and while Sir Joshua and I were tête-à-tête, Lord Cork and my father being still walking, and Miss Palmer having, I suppose, some orders to give about the dinner, the “knight of Plympton” was desiring my opinion of the prospect from his window, and comparing it with Mr. Burke’s, as he told me after I had spoken it,—when the Bishop of St. Asaph and his daughter, Miss Georgiana Shipley, were announced. Sir Joshua, to divert himself, in introducing me to the bishop, said, “Miss Burney, my lord; otherwise ‘Evelina.’”

The bishop is a well-looking man, and seemed grave, quiet, and sensible. I have heard much more of him, but nothing more appeared. Miss Georgiana, however, was showy enough for two. She is a very tall and rather handsome girl; but the expression of her face is, to me, disagreeable. She has almost a constant smile, not of softness, nor of insipidity, but of self-sufficiency and internal satisfaction. She is very much accomplished, and her fame for painting and for scholarship, I know you are well acquainted with. I believe her to have very good parts and much quickness, but she is so full of herself, so earnest to obtain notice, and so happy in her confidence of deserving it, that I have been not less charmed with any young lady I have seen for many a day. I have met with her before, at Mrs. Pepys’, but never before was introduced to her.

Miss Palmer soon joined us; and, in a short time, entered more company,—three gentlemen and one lady; but there was no more ceremony used of introductions. The lady, I concluded was Mrs. Burke, wife of the Mr. Burke, and was not mistaken.

I recollect

one of the


One of the gentlemen I recollected to be young Burke, her son, whom I once met at Sir Joshua’s in town, and another of them I knew for Mr. Gibbon: but the third I had never seen before. I had been told that the Burke was not expected yet I could conclude this gentleman to be no other; he had just the air, the manner, the appearance, I had prepared myself to look for in him, and there was an evident, a striking superiority in his demeanour, his eye, his motions, that announced him no common man.

I could not get at Miss Palmer to satisfy my doubts, and we were soon called downstairs to dinner. Sir Joshua and the “unknown” stopped to speak with one another upon the stairs; and, when they followed us, Sir Joshua, in taking his place at the table, asked me to sit next to him; I willingly complied. “And then,” he added, “Mr. Burke shall sit on the other side of you.”

“Oh, no, indeed!” cried Miss Georgiana, who also had placed herself next Sir Joshua; “I won’t consent to that; Mr. Burke must sit next me; I won’t agree to part with him. Pray, come and sit down quiet, Mr. Burke.”
Mr. Burke,—for him it was,—smiled and obeyed.
“I only meant,” said Sir Joshua, “to have made my peace with Mr. Burke, by giving him that place, because he has been scolding me for not introducing him to Miss Burney. However, I must do it now;—Mr. Burke!—Miss Burney!”
We both half rose, and Mr. Burke said,—
“I have been complaining to Sir Joshua that he left me wholly to my own sagacity; however, it did not here deceive me.”
“Oh dear, then,” said Miss Georgiana, looking a little consternated, “perhaps you won’t thank me for calling you to this place!”
Nothing was said, and so we all began dinner,—young Burke making himself my next neighbour.

Captain Phillips14 knows Mr. Burke. Has he or has he not told you how delightful a creature he is? If he has not, pray in my name, abuse him without mercy; if he has, pray ask if he will subscribe to my account of him, which herewith shall follow.

He is tall, his figure is noble, his air commanding, his address graceful, his voice is clear, penetrating, sonorous, and powerful, his language is copious, various, and eloquent; his manners are attractive, his conversation is delightful.

What says Captain Phillips? Have I chanced to see him in his happiest hour? or is he all this in common? Since we lost Garrick I have seen nobody so enchanting.
I can give you, however, very little of what was said, for the conversation was not suivie, Mr. Burke darting from subject to subject with as much rapidity as entertainment. Neither is the charm of his discourse more in the matter than the manner: all, therefore, that is related from him loses half its effect in not being related by him. Such little sketches as I can recollect take however.

From the window of the dining-parlour, Sir Joshua directed us to look at a pretty white house which belonged to Lady Di Beauclerk.

“I am extremely glad,” said Mr. Burke, “to see her at last so well housed; poor woman! the bowl has long rolled in misery; I rejoice that it has now found its balance. I never, myself, so much enjoyed the sight of happiness in another, as in that woman when I first saw her after the death of her husband. It was really enlivening to behold her placed in that sweet house, released from all her cares, a thousand pounds a-year at her own disposal, and—her husband was dead! Oh, it was pleasant, it was delightful to see her enjoyment of her situation!”

“But, without considering the circumstances,” said Mr. Gibbon, “this may appear very strange, though, when they are fairly stated, it is perfectly rational and unavoidable.”
“Very true,” said Mr. Burke, “if the circumstances are not considered, Lady Di may seem highly reprehensible.”

He then, addressing himself particularly to me, as the person least likely to be acquainted with the character of Mr. Beauclerk, drew it himself in strong and marked expressions, describing the misery he gave his wife, his singular ill-treatment of her, and the necessary relief the death of such a man must give.15

He then reminded Sir Joshua of a day in which they had dined at Mr. Beauclerk’s, soon after his marriage with Lord Bolingbroke’s divorced wife, in company with Goldsmith, and told a new story of poor Goldsmith’s eternal blundering.

Whitehall, July 29, 1782.

I should feel exceedingly to blame if I could refuse to myself the natural satisfaction, and to you the just but poor return, of my best thanks for the very great instruction and entertainment I have received from the new present you have bestowed on the public. There are few—I believe I may say fairly there are none at all—that will not find themselves better informed concerning human nature, and their stock of observation enriched, by reading your “Cecilia.” They certainly will, let their experience in life and manners be what it may. The arrogance of age must submit to be taught by youth. You have crowded into a few small volumes an incredible variety of characters; most of them well planned, well supported, and well contrasted with each other. If there be any fault in this respect, It is one in which you are in no great danger of being imitated. Justly as your characters are drawn, perhaps they are too numerous. But I beg pardon; I fear it is quite in vain to preach economy to those who are come young to excessive and sudden opulence.


addressed me

I might trespass on your delicacy if I should fill my letter with what I fill my conversation to others. I should be troublesome to you alone if I should tell you all I feel and think on the natural vein of humour, the tender pathetic, the comprehensive and noble moral, and the sagacious observance, that appear quite throughout that extraordinary performance.
In an age distinguished by producing extraordinary women, I hardly dare to tell you where my opinion would place you amongst them. I respect your modesty, that will not endure the commendations which your merit forces from everybody.

I have the honour to be, with great gratitude, respect, and esteem, madam, your most obedient and most humble servant,
Edm. Burke.

My best compliments and congratulations to Dr. Burney on the great honour acquired to his family.

Chesington, Monday, Aug. 12

I set out for this ever dear place, accompanied by Edward,16 who was sent for to paint Mr. Crisp for my father. I am sure you will rejoice in this. I was a little dumpish in the journey, for I seemed leaving my Susan again. However, I read a “Rambler” or two, and “composed the harmony of my temper,” as well as I could, for the sake of Edward, who was not only faultless of this, but who is, I almost think, faultless of all things. I have thought him more amiable and deserving, than ever, since this last sojourn under the same roof with him; and, as it happened, I have owed to him almost all the comfort I have this time met with here.
We came in a chaise, which was well loaded with canvasses, pencils, and painting materials; for Mr. Crisp was to be three times painted, and Mrs. Gast once. My sweet father came down Gascoign-lane to meet us, in very pood spirits and very good health. Next came dear daddy Crisp, looking vastly well, and, as usual, high in glee and kindness at the meeting. Then the affectionate Kitty, the good Mrs. Hamilton, the gentle Miss Young, and the enthusiastic Mrs. Gast.

The instant dinner was over, to my utter surprise and consternation, I was called into the room appropriated for Edward and his pictures, and informed I was to sit to him for Mr. Crisp! Remonstrances were unavailing, and declarations of aversion to the design were only ridiculed; both daddies interfered, and, when I ran off, brought me back between them, and compelled my obedience;—and from that time to this, nothing has gone forward but picture-sitting.

General Paoli.

and mr Crisp

Fanny Burney to Mr. Crisp

Oct. 15, 1782.

. . . I am very sorry you could not come to Streatham at the time Mrs. Thrale hoped to see you, for when shall we be likely to meet there again? You would have been much pleased, I am sure, by meeting with General Paoli, who spent the day there, and was extremely communicative and agreeable. I had seen him in large companies, but was never made known to him before; nevertheless, he conversed with me as if well acquainted not only with myself, but my connexions,—inquiring of me when I had last seen Mrs. Montagu? and calling Sir Joshua Reynolds, when he spoke of him, my friend. He is a very pleasing man, tall and genteel in his person, remarkably well bred, and very mild and soft in his manners.

I will try to give you a little specimen of his conversation, because I know you love to hear particulars of all out-of-the-way persons. His English is blundering but not unpretty. Speaking of his first acquaintance with Mr. Boswell,—
“He came,” he said, “to my country, and he fetched me some letter of recommending him; but I was of the belief he might be an impostor, and I supposed, in my mind, he was an espy; for I look away from him, and in a moment I look to him again, and I behold his tablets. Oh! he was to the work of writing down all I say! Indeed I was angry. But soon I discover he was no impostor and no espy; and I only find I was myself the monster he had come to discern. Oh,—is a very good man! I love him indeed; so cheerful! so gay! so pleasant! but at the first, oh! I was indeed angry.”
After this he told us a story of an expectation he had of being robbed, and of the protection he found from a very large dog that he is very fond of.”

“I walk out,” he said, “in the night; I go towards the field; I behold a man—oh, ugly one! I proceed—he follow; I go on—he address me. ‘You have one dog,’ he says. ‘Yes,’ say I to him. ‘Is a fierce dog?’ he says; ‘is he fiery?’ ‘Yes,’ reply I, ‘he can bite.’ ‘I would not attack in the night,’ says he, ‘a house to have such dog in it.’ Then I conclude he was a breaker, so I turn to him——oh, very rough! not gentle—and I say, very fierce, ‘He shall destroy you, if you are ten!’”
Afterwards, speaking of the Irish giant, who is now shown in town, he said,—
“He is so large I am as a baby! I look at him—oh! I find myself so little as a child! Indeed, my indignation it rises when I see him hold up his hand so high. I am as nothing; and I find myself in the power of a man who fetches from me half a crown.”

This language, which is all spoke very pompously by him, sounds comical from himself, though I know not how it may read.

1 Sir Philip Jennings Clerke.—ED.]

2 Mauritius Lowe, a natural son of Lord Southwell. He sent a large picture of the Deluge to the Royal Academy in 1783, and was so distressed at its rejection, that Johnson compassionately wrote to Sirjoshua Reynolds in his behalf, entreating that the verdict might be reconsidered. His intercession was successful, and the picture was admitted. We know nothing of Mr. Lowe’s work.—ED.]

3 Afterwards Sir William P. Weller Pepys. See note 103, ante.—ED.]

4 “The moment he was gone, ‘Now,’ says Dr. Johnson, ‘is Pepys gone home hating me, who love him better than I did before. He spoke in defence of his dead friend; but though I hope I spoke better, who spoke against him, yet all my eloquence will gain me nothing but an honest man for my enemy!’” (Mrs. Piozzi’s “Anecdotes of Johnson.”)—ED.]

5 The celebrated Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, equally famous for her personal attractions and her political enthusiasm in the Whig interest. Her canvassing, and, it is said, her kisses, largely contributed to the return of Charles james Fox for Westminster in the election of 1784. She was the daughter of John, first Earl Spencer; was born 1757; married, 1774, to William, fifth Duke of Devonshire; and died, 1806. Her portrait was painted by both Reynolds and Gainsborough. Mary Isabella, Duchess of Rutland, was the youngest daughter of the Duke of Beaufort, and was married, in 1775, to Charles Mariners, fourth Duke of Rutland. She died, 1831.—ED.]

6 Susan and Sophy were younger daughters of Mrs. Thrale—ED.]

7 The manager of Mr. Thrale’s brewery.—ED.]

8 i.e. To Streatham: Fanny had been home in the interval.—ED.]

9 Of Bath Easton: husband of the lady of the “Vase.” See note 123, ante, P. 174.—ED.]

10 Captain Molesworth Phillips, who had recently married Susan Burney.—ED.]

11 Gasparo Pacchierotti, a celebrated Italian singer, and a very intimate friend of the Burney family.—ED.]

12 “Variety,” a comedy, was produced at Drury Lane, Feb. 25, 1782, and ran nine nights. Genest calls it a dull play, with little or no plot. The author is unknown.—ED.]

13 Dr. Jonathan Shipley.—ED.]

14 The husband of Fanny Burney’s sister, Susan.—ED.]

15 Poor Lady Di was throughout unfortunate in her marriages. Her first husband, Lord Bolingbroke, to whom she was married in 1757, brutally used her, and drove her to seek elsewhere the affection which he failed to bestow. She was divorced from him in 1768, and married, immediately afterwards, to Topham Beauclerk, who, in his turn, ill-treated her. Mr. Beauclerk died in March, 1780. He was greatly esteemed by Johnson, but his good qualities appear to have been rather of the head than of the heart.—ED.]

16 Her cousin Edward Burney, the painter. A reproduction of his portrait of Fanny forms the frontispiece to the present volume.—ED.]

17 Pasquale Paoli, the famous Corsican general and patriot. He maintained the independence of his country against the Genoese for nearly ten years. In 1769, upon the submission of Corsica to France, to which the Genoese had ceded it, Paoli settled in England, where he enjoyed a pension of 1200 pounds a year from the English Government. More details respecting this delightful interview between Fanny and the General are given in the “Memoirs of Dr. Burney” (vol. ii. p. 255), from which we select the following extracts:—

“He is a very pleasing man; tall and genteel in his person, remarkably attentive, obliging, and polite; and as soft and mild in his speech, as if he came from feeding sheep in Corsica, like a shepherd; rather than as if he had left the warlike field where he had led his armies to battle.
“When Mrs. Thrale named me, he started back, though smilingly, and said; ‘I am very glad enough to see you in the face, Miss Evelina, which I have wished for long enough. O charming book! I give it you my word I have read it often enough. It is my favourite studioso for apprehending the English language; which is difficult often. I pray you, Miss Evelina, write some more little volumes of the quickest.’
“I disclaimed the name, and was walking away; but he followed me with an apology. ‘I pray your pardon, Mademoiselle. My ideas got in a blunder often. It is Miss Borni what name I meant to accentuate, I pray your pardon, Miss Evelina.’"—ED.]

Diary of French court


Madame Darblay

Author(s) and photography

Fanny Burney
Michael Koontz

To the daisy that is my sun and inspiration

   Author page, Michael A Koontz
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Last Few Published Books and Articles

  • Över skog och mark, järn & gym, och mylla. Den biologiska mångfaldens dag 2021.

    Quality time needed: 2 minutes

    A sustainable society makes for healthier & happier nature, and people.
    What is the science based outcome of your daily life choices?.

    Pressmeddelande 2021-05-12
    Den biologiska mångfaldens dag firas i Höga Kusten.

    En av Sveriges största naturhögtider går in på sitt femte år. Det blir återigen ett annorlunda firande av Biologiska mångfaldens dag 22 maj i år på grund av coronapandemin. Med anpassningar och digitala aktiviteter skapar Sveriges naturföreningar ett späckat program med allt från uppvisningar av vackra naturområden till tips om hur du gynnar biologisk mångfald i din trädgård. I Örnsköldvik, Höga Kusten arrangerar Scandinavian.fitness återigen ett bmfdag evenemang, för året så blir det i form av ett lokalt mini Styrka Camp på gym och i natur den 22 Maj.

    – Det är femte året i rad som Natursverige satsar på att uppmärksamma Biologiska mångfaldens dag och det tredje året som Scandinavian.fitness deltar.
    Återigen visas det prov på stor entusiasm och kreativitet. Det ordnas allt från träning i naturen och tipsrundor till omfattande inventeringar av arter och webbinarier. Det finns också goda möjligheter att fira dagen på egen hand eller med sina närmaste, säger Erik Hansson, projektledare för Biologiska mångfaldens dag-initiativet.

  • Fitness school, question 53: Let us talk about nonalcoholic fatty liver & cancer risk..

    Quality time needed: 1 minute

    A daily 20 minute walk outside essentially showers you in health promoting daylight.
    What is the science based outcome of your daily life choices?.

    Question number 53 in our Scandinavian.fitness School.
    And today it's time for a short, and to-the-point, and focused Fitness school question.
    Just because, sometimes, all that we need is something short & wickedly sweet :).

    Drum roll, the lifestyle-based nonalcoholic fatty liver is pretty much as bad for us homo sapiens as its name suggests. But will it also increase your cancer risk?

  • Fitness school, question 52: The female menstrual cycle is a white water raft of hormonal changes over many days. But which ones jump up and down and what correlation might there be with stress?.

    Quality time needed: 2 minutes

    Enjoy a daily 20 minute walk and shower yourself in essential, health promoting daylight.
    What is the science based outcome of your daily life choices?.

    Question number 52 in our Scandinavian.fitness School.
    Health & fitness is created and maintained together. Feeding each other in this enduring, lifelong symbiosis no matter if our focus is our muscles strength, our heart health, cellular health, biological age, or the amount and size of our skeletal muscle mass,. Joint health and bone mass, hormonal functions, cardiovascular health, body fat levels, gut health, and even our brain are all intricately linked together.

    Fitness & health, body, and mind remain a perpetual cause and consequence system, where each individual aspect within our bodies affects and in turn, gets affected by all of the others in various degrees.

    In truth, a myriad of functions, which, individually, and as a whole, in turn, are shaped through our daily choices. Our surroundings, the type of food we eat, its nutrients, and the amount of those nutrients and their combined total.

    Environmental pollution, physical activity, sleep, relations, job, society, stress, et cetera.

    All combined, this is what determines the trajectory of our health and our fitness.

    And the menstrual cycle is, of course, no exception to this at all.
    Its impact on the female body and our highly influential hormonal system are in fact, very big. And as such, it is a highly relevant topic for any female that is aspiring to live a fact-based healthy fit life.

    But which hormones get affected the most during the menstrual cycle?. And how might stress tie into it?. If at all.

    Read on beyond the break for fitness school question number 52.

  • Fitness school, question 51: Potatoes versus rice. Two healthy food staples in any healthy fit lifestyle. But, what more is there beyond their nutritional makeup, and why should you care?

    Quality time needed: 2 minutes

    We are choosing the direction of our fitness and health through our daily choices.
    What is the science based outcome of your daily life choices?.

    Question number 51 in our Scandinavian.fitness School.
    Real Fitness progression requires, as well as creates injury free progression in health, especially, long term speaking.
    Likewise, making healthy food choices is just as important for health as it is for our fitness progression.

    But is healthy food habits really just about the nutrition our food constitutes and the health & fitness impact that nutrition carries with it?

    Some will say that this is all there is to our food choices, and plenty of good nutritional coaches do treat food and nutrition just like that. And that is an ok choice to do. Ok, but also lackluster in its view on the scientific ecosystem that is food and health, people and planet. Yes, as a personal trainer, and nutritional coach and Styrka Master coach mysef, I can not agree at all with that narrow, and incomplete view on health, nutrition and fitness.

    You see, eating healthy food is a staple in our personal fitness, and health, that is a given.
    The nutritional make up of our food choices is a major pillar in human health and fitness, just as important as the amount of food which we are consuming. But a truly healthy fit life also account for the scientific impact of our choices on our planets health.

    After all, if our personal food and lifestyle choices contribute to breaking the health of our entire planet, then we are unavoidably going to harm the health of ourselves since a healthy, sustainable society and planet is essential to the life long health and fitness progression of us all. As individuals, and a society.

    Hence todays question pitting good ol potatoes vs rice and the amount of water, and climate, and planetary impact these 2 healthy food staples causes. And just why 'small' stuff like this should matter to you.

    So read on beyond the break for the complete question and the correct answer.

  • Fitness school, question 50: Can we see some sort of health impact betweeen obesity and corona?. Updated May 2021

    Quality time needed: 1 minute

    The direction of your fitness capacity is made through your daily choices.
    What is the science based outcome of your daily life choices?.

    Question number 50 in our Scandinavian.fitness School here at 'a Norse View'.
    An abundance of body fat sadly does not help with improving many health and fitness metrics in life for us mere mortals.
    But, how about Corona?

    Will bigger levels of body fat lower your risk of dying from Corona, or will it increase your health risk?

    Well, we can not scientifically deduct every little thing with 100% certainty as far as Covid-19 goes right now. It is still a situation that is too recent, and adaptive to conclude some things with absolute certainty.

    We can however start to see some clear trajectories emerging when it comes down to higher body fat levels, and Corona.

    So read on beyond the break and let us take a look at corona and the probable correlation with our body fat levels.

  • Fitness school, question 49: Is a reduction of inflammation in our bodies one aspect of the many wonderful health improving outcomes of regular fitness?

    Quality time needed: 2 minutes

    Health is shaped and molded through your daily choices.
    Do you know the scientific outcome of your daily life?.

    Question number 49 in our Scandinavian.fitness School here at 'a Norse View'.
    Physical activity & fitness exercise of various levels, intensity, and volume improve many aspects of our human health. Including a highly beneficial effect on musculoskeletal health no matter gender or age.
    Other factors include improving our metabolic and cognitive health & functions.

    As a result, regular life long fitness.....
    Reduces the risk of cardiovascular diseases.. Diabetes, and several types of cancer.

    Greatly reduced osteoporosis as well as depression and improved volume and capacity of our physical gray matter mass, are other areas of our life long health that benefit substantially from daily physical activity and regular fitness.
    But, will intense regular fitness exercise also reduce inflammation throughout our bodies?....
    Because if so, that would provide huge health benefits all by itself. Simply put, less inflammation in our bodies reduces heart health risk and the onset of cognitive decline and biological aging amongst other things.

    So read on beyond the break and let us take a look at how intense fitness might reduce inflammation too.

  • Fitness school, question 48.. Smoking kills millions of people every year, and harm hundreds of millions more.. But can the body recover from damaged lungs if you stop smoking?..

    Quality time needed: 2 minutes

    Health is shaped and molded through your daily choices.
    Do you know the scientific outcome of your daily life?.

    Question number 48 in Scandinavian.fitness School of Fitness here at 'a Norse View'.
    Most of the time our fitness school questions revolve around the scientific impact of your fitness and or food choices.
    But every now and then we dip our toes into the wider ecosystem of things that carry with them a huge impact on our individual health, such as air pollution. Because a truly healthy life has to consider all aspects of our lifestyles.
    One area of "air pollution" is smoking. Not only do non smokers hurt their health due to others unhealthy smoking habits. But the smokers themselves harm their own health in even greater strides.

    So much so that Tobacco smoking is perhaps the biggest single influencer on a human beings mutational burden, usually adding anywhere between 1,000 to 10,000 mutations per cell inside of the human body. In the end, being a major driver of various cancer forms and fatally damaged lungs. But, the human body is amazing at recovering from almost all forms of injuries and health issues once we start making healthier choices a regular thing.

    And now, a brand new 2020 study is shining light on just how well a typical smokers damaged lungs will recover once that smoker chooses to stop their unhealthy smoking habits.

    So read on beyond the break and let us dig deeper into the health impact of smoking and just how good our human lungs might recover once a person decides to end their self harming habit.

  • Fitness school, question 47.. Can we still make the fact based claim that the core temperature of the modern day human body is 37c on average?... Or has this well established scientific fact actually changed in the last 100 years?.

    Quality time needed: 1 minute

    Health is made from your daily choices.
    Do you know the answer to our question?.

    Question number 47 in our School of Fitness.
    Interestingly enough we actually uncover new scientific facts about the human body every single day.
    Things we thought we knew sometimes become nothing more than the incorrect truth of yesterday. All while we continually prove that life and nature, and biology itself is endlessly progressive and changing.
    So for today, I would like to know if we can still make the fact-based claim that the core temperature of the modern-day human body is still 37c on average?...
    Or has this well established scientific fact actually changed in the last 100 years?.

    Read on beyond the break and dig deeper into our fitness school question before you pony up the right answer.

  • The scientific correlation between our food choices environmental impact and bad human health.

    Quality time needed: 1 minute

    Fitness is a science driven journey.
    And so is sustainability.

    So let us get it out of the way right away.
    Poor food choices remain a leading worldwide cause of mortality and bad health. But, poor food choices doesn't just harm our own health and longevity, bad food choices and the production that is needed to create the lackluster food that so many bases their entire food life on causes huge, unnecessary environmental degradation as well.

    So much so that the much needed (read essential to do) UN’s Sustainable Development Goals and the Paris Climate Agreement is virtually impossible to fulfill unless we, as a global species make the switch to healthier, plant-based food choices.
    This article will display how different food groups directly connect 5 health outcomes and 5 aspects of environmental degradation with each other.

  • Fitness school, question 46.. Can we make the fact based claim that visceral adipose mass is associated with increased risk of hypertension, heart attack/angina, type 2 diabetes and hyperlipidemia? Yes or no?.

    Quality time needed: 1 minute

    Health is made from your daily choices.
    Do you know the answer to our question?.

    Question number 46 in our School of Fitness.
    Is it true that visceral adipose mass is associated with increased risk of hypertension, heart attack/angina, type 2 diabetes, and hyperlipidemia?.
    And just exactly what is visceral adipose mass?

    Read on beyond the break and dig deeper into our fitness school question before you pony up the right answer.

  • Fitness school, question 45: Will increased or maintained fitness rejuvenate & improve hippocampal activity beyond 60 years of age?

    Quality time needed: 1 minute

    Health is made from your daily choices.
    Do you know the answer to our question?.

    Question number 45 in our School of Fitness.
    Most people know by now that healthy fit choices in the gym and the forest trail, at home and in daily life are nothing but a ticket towards increased health and life span, in body and mind.
    But, the health of our biological system is made up of near-endless processes and aspects. And that certainly applies to the state of our brain. Hence today's focus on our brains hippocampal capacity and health.

    Read on beyond the break and dig deep down in our fitness school question.

  • Available Fine Art & Lifestyle products. Art, design and photography by M & M. Our products are produced and sold by #Society6.

    Quality time needed: 8 minutes

    Your life is your on going art and history
    Contemporary art & products for a healthy fit life and planet.

    Each of us is the mere sum of our unique life choices, our thoughts, and way.
    Be it in person, or through the way we shape life around us. This uniqueness is evident even in our own persona, our style and life choices that takes place on this endless every day path that we call life.It is as such, ever-present in the way we build and shape the castle and life which we call our home.
    You can feel and see it, in the choices of your clothes, and other peoples fitness regime.
    It is persistent through our art choices and the way we train and live our very own healthy fit life.

    It is forever present inside our deeply individual thoughts, and it is perpetually stamped in the essence of our unique nature. Read on beyond the break and step into our lifestyle store where you can buy clothes and fine art and other lifestyle products, with art, design and photography by M & M.

  • Fitness school, question 44: What is the actual weight of one cm3 lean muscle mass, and will that weight per cm3 be able to also differ ever so minuscule between fit people and out of shape people (generally speaking that is).

    Quality time needed: 1 minute

    A healthy life is a daily process created by making healthy science based choices.
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 44 in our School of Fitness.
    Time for a short and sweet little one.
    As stated in the subject line, lean muscle mass has another weight/density ratio than fat, so a body mass that is made up of more fat and less lean muscle mass will display a bigger mass at a lower body weight, while a body that has a greater amount of lean muscle mass will actually have a higher body weight compared to what its body mass might make you believe.

    Read on beyond the break and dwell deeper down into today's fitness school question.

  • Pressmeddelande: Biologiska mångfaldens dag 2019 tar en tur i naturen för en stund med naturfoto och fitness prat i Höga Kusten.

    Quality time needed: 1 minute

    a Norse View & Scandinavian.fitness.
    Biologiska mångfaldens dag 2019, Höga Kusten, Sverige.

    Humlesafari, fladdermuslyssning, fjärilsbingo, krypletning och fågelvandring – den 22 maj uppmärksammas den internationella FN-dagen Biologiska mångfaldens dag med en mängd olika evenemang runt om i Sverige.

    Den årligen återkommande bmf dagen är numera en av Sveriges största naturhögtider och 2019 arrangerar naturorganisationer, kommuner, skolor, myndigheter,företag och privatpersoner över 200 aktiviteter runt om i landet, från Kiruna i norr till Ystad i söder. Det görs både för att visa upp vår artrika natur och för att uppmärksamma en av vår tids stora ödesfrågor – den oroväckande snabba förlusten av biologisk mångfald.

    I Höga Kusten arrangerar Mike från a Norse View och Scandinavian.fitness en dagstur ut i naturen där vi blandar naturfoto i en vacker insjömiljö och faktabaserat prat om kost, träning och hälsa.

  • Fitness school, question 42: Will maintained fitness reduce menstrual pain for the majority of women?

    Quality time needed: 1 minute

    Fitness is built upon the science of you.
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 42 in our School of Fitness.
    Fitness has been established in scientific studies in the last few years as a health-improving daily life painkiller.
    Making it even better is the fact that it comes completely free of cost and nerve-wracking & time-consuming doctors appointment and unhealthy side-effects. Lowering pain and debilitating health issues such as arthritis while fortifying your lifespan and health.

    But is that tremendous gratis painkiller effect applicable to menstrual pain too?.

  • Wildlife Facts: Camelopardalis, 'The camel that could have been a leopard'.. What animal am I talking about right now?

    Quality time needed: 9 minutes




     Arctic Sunrise - Year 4.5 Billion
    The camel that could have been a leopard.


    One of planet Earth´s most unique land-living animals still roaming about in the wild also happens to be one of the cutest and most enchanting, and gentle colossuses that have ever existed. Yet, somehow, despite the towering size and unique characteristics of these majestic critters they are also one of the lesser talked about wildlife stars. And so it happens that by now they are like so many other species highly endangered without anyone really paying attention.

    But perhaps that is the reward that life gave these majestic beings that float across the land they call home as if they are majestic land dwelling whales. A backseat in the human consciousness as we proceeded to decimate their global population with 40 or so % in less than 30 years.

  • Fitness school, question 41: The science of our human fitness anatomy. Scalenus Anterior, medius and posterior.

    Quality time needed: 1 minute

    Fitness is built upon your own anatomy.
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 41 in our School of Fitness.
    Beneath the tasty, delicious joy and sexiness of a life built on plant-based food and fitness, the weights you lift, the miles you walk and run. The mountains you climb, and the sandbags you punch and kick there is not just a burning passion and increased life quality. Nor is it just a question of the enhanced health and joy you can touch and feel deep inside both body & mind.
    No, there is also this marvelously progressive thing called science. Because all the physical fitness things, the sweat and healthy living discipline that others see are ultimately powered by the all-encompassing facts of biological life.

  • Fitness school, question 40: The science of sugar and intestine tumors... In both mice & men.

    Quality time needed: 8 minutes

    Yet another study on food & health.

    Looking at the impact of sugar in food and beverages.

    Sugar is a much beloved sweetener. Craved like a lovers touch by most biological beings that dare to ever look into the abyss and allow its tastebuds to grace this natural force of addiction.

    But as much as all things living seemingly enjoy the taste of sugar and more modern artificial sweeteners. Scientifically speaking the bad health impact of sugar ( from obesity to diabetes and cancer risk, poor dental health and non existing nutritional value ) and other sweeteners have thankfully turned countless of humans into die hard "no sugar" please sentinels. So let us take a brief look at a brand new 2019 study and let us find out if this study too will add even more reasons to say no to sugar and other sweeteners in your food and beverages.

  • Fitness school, question 39: Telomeres, the fancy sounding tail that connects healthy fit aging with fitness activities. Dive right in as we take a look at recent studies.

    Quality time needed: 13 minutes

    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 39 in our School of Fitness.
    I have talked about telomeres in years past, and fitness too obviously :).
    But such is the world of fitness, science, and health, it often revisits old "truths" and sometimes upends them because our knowledge has deepened, while new studies at other times will simply fortify and acknowledge what we already knew to be true.
    So what will happen today as we travel back to the world of that peachy sounding telomeres thingy that keeps wiggling its cute little tail inside of us? Let us find out.
    My Question:.
    For this particular study, published in European Heart Journal, Nov 2018, we´ll uncover what happens to the length of our telomeres when we do long distance endurance training, high-intensity sprint intervals, nothing at all or lift weights in a so-so way in the gym ( yeah, color me unimpressed by the strength plan in this study, but hold on to that thought as you read on because I will get back to the fairly inadequate strength training and why that too matters. ).
    The question, which option is the best for maintaining the length of our telomeres and what is the worst?.

  • Anthropocene & the survival of our brilliant but simpleminded species. Just another morning.

    Quality time needed: 5 minutes

    Breakfast stuff and morning thoughts.

    climate inaction is an existential threat.

    Nothing fancy or big worded to say today, I am just drinking some tasty fresh black coffee while various death metal songs keep pumping through my livingroom gear.
    Yes, what a glorious morning :).
    But while I am enjoying my morning routine, getting ready for the gym and my own workouts as well as the health and fitness regimes of today's PT clients I am also reading up on science and sustainability from around the world. And one of the pieces that stand out is a tonally laid-back piece by Swedish outlet DN. They spent the better part of a month or so following Swedish sustainability advocate Greta as she continues her quest to bring much-needed awareness to the sad state of the world and the essential, deep-rooted changes we as a species and global civilization urgently need to undertake.

  • Fitness school, question 38. Is obesity itself tied to diabetes type 2 and coronary artery disease?. Yes or no?.

    Quality time needed: 5 minutes

    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 38 in our School of Fitness.
    Time for a short one.
    Obesity is no friend of the bettering of our health and longevity.
    Just as how the old school act of serious bulking never did anyone's health and fitness levels any favors. And pointing this scientific reality out is not about fat shaming. It´s about helping the world and its individuals turn the tide toward better health, and better fitness. And doing so does not remove peoples individual right to pick whatever body size and fat percentage that they so prefer.
    My Question:.
    We already know that obesity ( and a fat powered high BMI ) increases unhealthy factors such as high blood pressure and high cholesterol. And it often increases depression, drowsiness and general sedentary choices. Which indirectly leads to worse health in numerous ways. But if a person with a high fat powered BMI is deemed healthy as far as those traditional markers are concerned is excess fat itself still bad?
    Put in another way, will a higher amount of excess body fat still lead to worse health even if your bloodwork turns out ok and you do not feel depressed and drowsy and you do hit the gym?.

  • Fitness school, question 37: Can something as simple as a reduction of daily walking decrease our lean muscle mass in a noticeable way in just 2 weeks time?

    Quality time needed: 8 minutes

    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 37 in our School of Fitness.
    Yes, it is once again time for you to put your thinking cap on before you proceed without hesitation through the hallway of healthy fit wonders and science :).
    You already know that keeping fit and lifting your weekly weights and doing your daily cardio is nothing but a rejuvenating choice. It's good for your strength, duh.. It is wondrously good for your harty heart health, and it aids your cognitive and creative processes. It scientifically speaking lowers depression and tardy drowsiness. And if you have been keeping up with me over the years, you also know that keeping fit on a regular weekly basis also lowers your physical age by quite a noticeable margin too.
    But even small ordinary things like taking a daily walk carries with it a huge life long health and fitness impact.

    My Question:.
    What happens with our skeletal lean muscle mass for people above 70 years of age if they take a few thousand steps more or less per day for 2 weeks time?.
    Read on to reveal just how big the impact of that tiny change can be below the break.

  • Fitness School, Question 36, Will lifting weights 1-3 days per week be enough to lower cardiovascular related mortality?.

    Quality time needed: 3 minutes

    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 36 in our School of Fitness.
    All forms of fitness activity is a tiny little pill of good health no matter who you are.
    But is the simple act of lifting weights one to three days per week enough to substantially lower the risk of cardiovascular related mortality?.
    Yup, that is how easy and straightforward question number 36 turned out to be. And why? Because we have a brand new study to lean back on when it comes down to the (obvious) answer.
    Read on to reveal the complete Q and A below the break.

  • Going beyond 1.5C. Our world and daily life behind the IPCC report.

    Quality time needed: 27 minutes

    Cause & Consequence.

    Life on Earth laid bare by the IPCC report.

    But before we head on over to the meaty real life data of our reckless modern day life, which the 2018 IPCC report painfully laid bare, walk with me as I step out on frosty cold northern shores for my morning walk.

    Just a Thursday, spent on northern shores.
    And this is the way I started this gorgeous little Autumn day.

  • Roundabouts in the milky way galaxy. The duality of a sustainable earth, and interplanetary living.

    Quality time needed: 14 minutes

    Walking through the gates of autumn.

    We see a brand new dawn.

    Life itself is this majestic mirror world of brilliance and incompetence. Eternally merging and reflected, individually disengaged yet perfectly synchronized and attached to each other and everything else.

    Like the leaf that finds itself stranded on the wayward peaks of a stormy ocean. They are each others counterpart, yet entirely different. Individual objects, entwined and interconnected. Disengaged and perfectly unique.

  • Into Autumn, the spider´s lullaby. Random thoughts on life from another gorgeous day.

    Quality time needed: 5 minutes

    Walking through the gates of autumn.

    Together with a tiny little spider.

    And today, there´s officially a full-blown Autumn song playing out there in nature. Gorgeous and sunny, on a Sunday =). Wind free, except for the tiniest of breeze that you can almost not see or feel as it slowly makes it way through the crown of leaves that towers above.

    But it is, none the less, Autumn.
    The colors of the trees reveal it. The pale blue September moon that hangs high up in the middle of the day is another telltale.

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