Evelina

by Frances Burney

  Give thee my consent? – Oh thou joy, comfort, and pride of my life, how cold is that word to express the fervency of my approbation! yes, I do indeed give thee my consent, and so thankfully, that, with the humblest gratitude to Providence, I would seal it with the remnant of my days.

  Hasten, then, my love, to bless me with thy presence, and to receive the blessings with which my fond heart overflows! – And, oh my Evelina, hear and assist in one only, humble, but ardent prayer which yet animates my devotions: that the height of bliss to which thou art rising may not render thee giddy; but that the purity of thy mind may form the brightest splendor of thy prosperity! – and that the weak and aged frame of thy almost idolizing parent, nearly worn out by time, past afflictions, and infirmities, may yet be able to sustain a meeting with all its better part holds dear; and then, that all the wounds which the former severity of fortune inflicted, may be healed and purified by the ultimate consolation of pouring forth my dying words in blessings on my child! – closing these joy-streaming eyes in her presence, and breathing my last faint sighs in her loved arms!

  Grieve not, oh child of my care, grieve not at the inevitable moment; but may thy own end be equally propitious! Oh may’st thou, when full of days, and full of honour, sink down as gently to rest, – be loved as kindly, watched as tenderly as thy happy father! And may’st thou, when thy glass is run, be sweetly but not bitterly mourned, by some remaining darling of thy affections, – some yet surviving Evelina!

  ARTHUR VILLARS

  Letter Twenty-Three

  Evelina to the Rev. Mr Villars

  All is over, my dearest Sir, and the fate of your Evelina is decided! This morning, with fearful joy, and trembling gratitude, she united herself for ever with the object of her dearest, her eternal affection.

  I have time for no more; the chaise now waits which is to conduct me to dear Berry Hill, and to the arms of the best of men.

  EVELINA

  FINIS

  Journal and Letter Extracts

  by Frances Burney

  From Journal March 1778

  This Year was ushered in by a grand and most important Event, – for, at the latter end of January, the Literary World was favoured with the first publication of the ingenious, learned, and most profound Fanny Burney! – I doubt not but this memorable affair will, in future Times, mark the period whence chronologers will date the Zenith of the polite arts in this Island!

  This admirable authoress has named her most elaborate Performance ‘Evelina, or a Young Lady’s Entrance into the World.’

  Perhaps this may seem a rather bold attempt and Title, for a Female whose knowledge of the World is very confined, and whose inclinations, as well as situations, incline her to a private and domestic Life. – All I can urge, is that I have only presumed to trace the accidents and adventures to which a ‘young woman’ is liable, I have not pretended to shew the World what it actually is, but what it appears to a Girl of 17: – and so far as that, surely any Girl who is past 17, may safely do?

  From Journal 23 June 1778

  [Chessington]

  I have had a visit from my beloved, my kindest Father – and he came determined to complete my recovery by his goodness. I was almost afraid – and quite ashamed to be alone with him – but he soon sent for me to his little Gallery Cabinet – and then, with a significant smile that told me what was coming, and made me glow to my very forehead with anxious expectation, he said ‘I have read your Book, Fanny – but you need not blush at it. – It is full of merit – it is really extraordinary. –’ I fell upon his Neck with heart-beating emotion, and he folded me in his arms so tenderly that I sobbed upon his shoulder – so delighted was I with his precious approbation. But I soon recovered to a gayer pleasure, more like his own: though the length of my illness, joined to severe mental suffering from a Family calamity which had occurred at that period, had really made me too weak for a joy mixt with such excess of amazement. I had written my little Book simply for my amusement; I printed it, by the means first of my Brother, Charles, next of my Cousin, Edward Burney, merely for a frolic, to see how a production of my own would figure in that Author like form: but as I had never read any thing I had written to any human being but my sisters, I had taken it for granted that They, only, could be partial enough to endure my compositions. My unlooked for success surprized, therefore, my Father as much as my self –

  From Letter to Susanna Burney 5 July 1778.

  I often think, when I am counting my Laurels, what pity it would have been had I popt off in my last Illness, without knowing what a person of Consequence I was! – and I sometimes think, that, were I now to have a relapse, I could never go off with so much Eclat! – I am now at the summit of a high Hill, – my prospects, on one side, are bright, glowing, and invitingly beautiful; – but when I turn round, I perceive, on the other side, sundry Caverns, Gulphs, pits and precipices, that to look at, make my Head giddy, and my Heart sick! – I see about me, indeed, many Hills of far greater height and sublimity; – but I have not the strength to attempt climbing them; – if I move, it must be in descending! I have already, I fear, reached the pinnacle of my Abilities, and therefore to stand still will be my best policy: – but there is nothing under Heaven so difficult to do! – Creatures who are formed for motion, must move, however great their inducements to forbear. The Wisest Course I could take, would be to bid an eternal adieu to Writing; then would the Cry be ‘ ’Tis pity she does not go on! – she might do something better by and by; –’ etc., etc., Evelina as a First, and a youthful publication, has been received with the utmost favour and lenity, – but would a future attempt be treated with the same mercy? – No, my dear Susy, quite the contrary, – there would not, indeed, be the same plea to save it, – it would no longer be a Young Lady’s first appearance in public; – those who have met with less indulgence, would all peck at any new Book, – and even those who most encouraged the 1st offspring, might prove Enemies to the 2d, by receiving it with Expectations which it could not answer – and so, between either the Friends or the Foes of the Eldest, the 2d would stand an equally bad chance, and a million of flaws which were overlooked in the former, would be ridiculed as villainous and intolerable Blunders in the latter. – But, though my Eyes Ache as I strain them to look forward, – the temptations before me are almost irresistible. –

  From Journal August 1778

  I have now to write an account of the most Consequential Day I have spent since my Birth: namely, my Streatham Visit.

  Our Journey to Streatham was the least pleasant part of the Day: for the Roads were dreadfully dusty, – and I was really in the Fidgets from thinking what my reception might be, and from fearing they would expect a less awkward and backward kind of person than I was sure they would find.

  Mr Thrale’s House is white, and very pleasantly situated, in a fine Paddock. Mrs Thrale was strolling about and came to us as we got out of the Chaise. ‘Ah,’ cried she, ‘I hear Dr Burney’s Voice! – and you have brought your Daughter? – well, now you are good!’ She then received me, taking both my Hands, and with a mixt politeness and cordiality, welcoming me to Streatham.

  She led us into the House, and addressed herself almost wholly, for a few minutes, to my Father, as if to give me an assurance she did not mean to regard me as a shew, or to distress or frighten me by drawing me out. Afterwards, she took me up stairs, and shewed me the House: and said she had very much wished to see me at Streatham, and should always think herself much obliged to Dr Burney for his goodness in bringing me, which she looked upon as a very great favour. But, though we were some Time together, and though she was so very civil, she did not hint at my Book: and I love her much more than ever for her delicacy in avoiding a subject which she could not but see would have greatly embarrassed me.

  When we returned to the Music Room, we found Miss Thrale was with my Father. Miss Thrale is a very fine Girl, about 14 years of age, but cold and reserved, though full of knowledge and intelligence. She may, and I doubt no
t, will be as learned as her mother, but never half so amiable, selon apparance.

  Here the subject that was started was Dick, who played truant at Winchester, and is now under the displeasure of Dr Warton. Mrs Thrale interests herself greatly for Dick, and spoke all sort of comforting things to my Father: and, when he expressed his vexation at the affair, ‘Pho,’ said she, ‘Boys will be naughty, there’s nothing in that; – but let him be what he will, I sha’n’t suffer the man who has such Daughters as Miss Burney to complain.’

  ‘That’s aside,’ said my Father, Laughing; ‘Fanny must not hear that.’

  In truth, I was employed in looking at Prints, and therefore affected not to attend.

  ‘Ay, well,’ said Mrs Thrale, ‘she often, I doubt not, hears more praise than she believes, though not more than she deserves.’

  My Father, then, enquired after Mr Thrale. ‘Why,’ said she, ‘my master is gone out on Horseback, with Mr Seward.’

  This Mr Seward is a Young man of Fortune, who is a great favourite at Streatham. He is handsome, and very sensible and intelligent: but Mrs Thrale told us, he had a very strange singularity of Disposition, for that, with real goodness of Heart, Benevolence and Generosity of Temper, he always affected the utmost sourness, bluntness and moroseness. She added, that there was, at this Time, a poor man in great distress, and that, to her certain knowledge, he had insisted on lending him 100 pounds yearly, till his affairs were retrieved: ‘and,’ said she, ‘he can never hear the name of this man, without Tears; yet he pretends to a Character the very reverse, and aims at a kind of misanthropy.’

  I have had very little conversation with this Gentleman, but I have seen him 3 or 4 Times. And I was much rejoiced in finding that no other Company was expected.

  Soon after, Mrs Thrale took me to the Library. She talked a little while upon common topics, and then, – at last, – she mentioned Evelina, calling it ‘the Book of which I alone was ashamed.’ And ashamed enough I felt, in Conscience! and I began poring over the Books, in order to turn from her.

  ‘Well,’ said she, ‘it is a sweet pretty Book indeed! and Yesterday at supper we talked it all over, and discussed all your Characters; but Mr Johnson’s favourite is Mr Smith! – he is so smart! – he declares the fine Gentleman manque was never better drawn: and he acted – him all the Evening, saying he was ‘all for the Ladies! whatever was agreeable to the Ladies,’ and so on; while I took up Madame Duval, and told them I desired I might hear no more of such vulgar pieces of Fun! – But Mr Johnson repeated whole scenes by Heart! – I declare I was astonished at him! – O you can’t imagine how much he is pleased with the Book; – he “could not get rid of the Rogue”, he told me.’

  I could only Laugh and thank her: and express, though not very audibly, my surprise, and assure her I hardly knew how to credit flatteries so unexpected and so undeserved.

  ‘But was it not droll,’ said she, ‘that I should recommend it to Dr Burney? and teize him, so innocently, to read it?’

  In the midst of this conversation, Mrs Thrale, from the Window, perceived Mr Thrale, and called to him; – ‘Mr Thrale,’ said she, ‘if you will come hither, I can give you very great pleasure; I have a Young Lady to introduce to you whom you want very much to know.’

  So! thought I, what, is he, too, acquainted with my frolic! – And I am sure, by her looks, and the earnest curiosity of her regards, that Miss Thrale was not ignorant of it. Heigh ho! how difficult is secret keeping!

  Mr Thrale came immediately, and was extremely civil to me. He is a very Tall, well looking man, and very well bred; but shy and reserved: however, he was attentively obliging to me all the Day.

  I found, by the enquiries that followed of if and when they had seen me, that I, as well as my Book, had had the Honour to supply them with conversation the preceding Evening, and they had recollected all they knew of me. ‘But,’ said Mr Thrale, to his Wife, who was in a white muslin Jacket, ‘I think you might as well have been better equipped to receive your Guests.’

  ‘And so I would, I assure You,’ answered she, ‘if I had imagined Miss Burney would have thought at all the better of me for Dress; but I had no Notion it would be any recommendation to her.’

  When he left us I prevailed upon Mrs Thrale to let me amuse myself, and she went to obey her master’s order and Dress. I then prowled about, to chuse some Book, and I saw, upon the Reading Table, Evelina; – I had just fixed upon a new Translation of Cicero’s Laelius when the Library Door was opened, and Mr Seward Entered. I instantly put away my Book, because I dreaded being thought studious and affected. He offered his service to find any thing for me, and then, in the same Breath, ran on to speak of the Book with which I had, myself, favoured the World! The exact Words he began with I cannot recollect, for I was actually confounded by the attack: I had not any idea that he knew of the affair; and his abrupt manner of letting me know he was au fait equally astonished and provoked me: how different from the delicacy of Mr and Mrs Thrale! – I was so much amazed, and so much displeased, that I could not speak a word, and he then went on with some general praises, and said that I had hit off the City manners wonderfully.

  I doubt not but he expected my thanks! – but I only stammered out something of my surprise to find the affair so spread, and then, with the coldest gravity, I seated myself, and looked another way.

  It could not be very difficult for him, now, to perceive that he had wholly mistaken his Game, and that my Greediness for praise was by no means so gluttonous as to make me swallow it when so ill Cooked; but I fancy he imagined I should, of course, be delighted to hear my own Book mentioned with Compliments, and so he concluded I should, with much eagerness, Enter upon the subject. However, when he discovered his mistake, he spared no endeavours to repair it, for he Changed his Theme, and did not again ever go back to his first topic, notwithstanding he continued with me near 2 Hours, and never once suffered the Conversation to flag. Indeed, I was for some Time, so totally disconcerted by his abrupt attack, that I hardly knew what I answered him, but, by degrees I tranquillised, as I found he forbore distressing me any further, by such Home strokes; And I must do him the justice to own that I believe he was sorry himself that he had started the subject, when he saw how I received it.

  He stayed, talking upon divers matters, till he was obliged to go and Dress for Dinner: – and then, before he left me, he offered his service to find me any Book; – I accepted his offer, as I did not know where to look, or for what. He spent no little Time ere he could satisfy himself, and, at last, he brought me a Book of Poems by Miss Aiken.

  ‘But the doubt is, Ma’am,’ said he, ‘whether they are her own writing.’ I asked him who was suspected as Author? ‘Why her Brother – they Live in the same House.’ Ah, thought I, how kindly willing is the World to make charitable constructions!

  I then began reading, and he left the Room.

  Mrs Thrale soon after joined me: I wished much to have expostulated with her upon betraying me to Mr Seward, but could not myself introduce the subject, and she never again led to it; I am sure she spared me from good nature, as she could not but observe how much more easy I was upon all other Topics.

  The rest of the morning was all spent charmingly; – we went into the Music Room, and there joined Mr and Miss Thrale, Mr Seward and my Father.

  When we were summoned to Dinner, Mrs Thrale made my Father and me sit each side of her: I said that I hoped I did not take Dr Johnson’s place? – for he had not yet appeared. ‘No,’ answered Mrs Thrale, ‘he will sit by you, – which I am sure will give him great pleasure.’

  Soon after we were seated, this great man entered. I have so true a veneration for him, that the very sight of him inspires me with delight and reverence, notwithstanding the cruel infirmities to which he is subject; for he has almost perpetual convulsive movements, either of his Hands, lips, Feet, knees, and sometimes of all together. However, the sight of them can never excite ridicule, or, indeed, any other than melancholy reflections upon the imperfectio
ns of Human Nature; for this man, who is the acknowledged first Literary man in this kingdom, and who has the most extensive knowledge, the clearest understanding, and the greatest abilities of any Living Author, – has a Face the most ugly, a Person the most awkward, and manners the most singular, that ever were, or ever can be seen. But all that is unfortunate in his exterior, is so greatly compensated for in his interior, that I can only, like Desdemona to Othello, ‘see his Visage in his mind.’ His Conversation is so replete with instruction and entertainment, his Wit is so ready, and his Language at once so original and so comprehensive, that I hardly know any satisfaction I can receive, that is equal to listening to him.

  Mrs Thrale introduced me to him, and he took his place. We had a Noble Dinner, and a most elegant Desert. Dr Johnson, in the middle of Dinner, asked Mrs Thrale what was in some little pies that were near him? ‘Mutton,’ answered she, ‘so I don’t ask you to Eat any, because I know you despise it.’

  ‘No, Madam, no;’ cried he, ‘I despise nothing that is good of its sort: – but I am too proud now to Eat of it; – sitting by Miss Burney makes me very proud to Day!’

  ‘Miss Burney,’ said Mrs Thrale, Laughing, ‘you must take great care of your Heart if Dr Johnson attacks it! – for I assure you he is not often successless.’

  ‘What’s that you say, Madam?’ cried he, ‘are you making mischief between the young lady and me already?’

  A little while after, he Drank Miss Thrale’s Health and mine; and then added – ‘ ’Tis a terrible thing that we cannot wish young Ladies well, without wishing them to become Old Women!’

  ‘But some people,’ said Mr Seward, ‘are old and young at the same Time, for they wear so well that they never look old.’

  ‘No, Sir, no;’ cried the Doctor, Laughing; ‘that never yet was; You might as well say they are at the same Time Tall and short! I remember an Epitaph to that purpose, which is in——’