ever, seem disposed to take her for life-everybody's admiration, as Mrs. Byron says, and nobody's choice.

Streatham, January 1st, 1782.—Sophy Streatfield has begun the new year nicely with a new conquest. Poor dear Doctor Burney! he is now the reigning favourite, and she spares neither pains nor caresses to turn that good man's head, much to the vexation of his family; particularly my Fanny, who is naturally provoked to see sport made of her father in his last stage of life by a young coquet, whose sole employment in this world seems to have been winning men's hearts on purpose to fling them away. How she contrives to keep bishops, and brewers, and doctors, and directors of the East India Company, all in chains so, and almost all at the same time, would amaze a wiser person than me; I can only say let us mark the end! Hester will perhaps see her out and pronounce, like Solon, on her wisdom and conduct."

As this lady has excited great interest, and was much with the Thrales, I will add what I have been able to ascertain concerning her. She is frequently mentioned in Madame D'Arblay's Diary:

"Streatham, Sept. 1778.-To be sure she (Mrs. Thrale) saw it was not totally disagreeable to me; though I was really astounded when she hinted at my becoming a rival to Miss Streatfield in the Doctor's good graces.

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"I had a long letter,' she said, 'from Sophy Streatfield t'other day, and she sent Dr. Johnson her elegant edition of the Classics;' but when he had read the

letter, he said she is a sweet creature, and I love her much; but my little Burney writes a better letter.' Now,' continued she, that is just what I wished him to say of you both.""

"Streatham, Sept. 1779.- Mr. Seward, you know, told me that she had tears at command, and I begin to think so too, for when Mrs. Thrale, who had previously told me I should see her cry, began coaxing her to stay, and saying, 'If you go, I shall know you don't love me so well as Lady Gresham,'-she did cry, not loud indeed, nor much, but the tears came into her eyes, and rolled down her fine cheeks.

"Come hither, Miss Burney,' cried Mrs. Thrale; 'come and see Miss Streatfield cry!'

"I thought it a mere badinage. I went to them, but when I saw real tears, I was shocked, and saying, 'No, I won't look at her,' ran away frightened, lest she should think I laughed at her, which Mrs. Thrale did so openly, that, as I told her, had she served me so, I should have been affronted with her ever after.

"Miss Streatfield, however, whether from a sweetness not to be ruffled, or from not perceiving there was any room for taking offence, gently wiped her eyes, and was perfectly composed!"

"Streatham, June, 1779.- Seward, said Mrs. Thrale, had affronted Johnson, and then Johnson affronted Seward, and then the S. S. cried.

"Sir Philip (Clerke). — Well, I have heard so much of these tears, that I would give the universe to have a sight of them.

“Mrs. Thrale.-Well, she shall cry again, if you like it.

"S. S.-No, pray, Mrs. Thrale.

"Sir Philip.-Oh, pray do! pray let me see a little

of it.

"Mrs. Thrale.-Yes, do cry a little Sophy [in a wheedling voice], pray do! Consider, now, you are going to-day, and it's very hard if you won't cry a little: indeed, S. S., you ought to cry.

"Now for the wonder of wonders. When Mrs. Thrale, in a coaxing voice, suited to a nurse soothing a baby, had run on for some time,—while all the rest of us, in laughter, joined in the request,—-two crystal tears came into the soft eyes of the S. S., and rolled gently down her cheeks! Such a sight I never saw before, nor could I have believed. She offered not to conceal or dissipate them: on the contrary, she really contrived to have them seen by everybody. She looked, indeed, uncommonly handsome; for her pretty face was not, like Chloe's, blubbered; it was smooth and elegant, and neither her features nor complexion were at all ruffled; nay, indeed, she was smiling all the time.

“Look, look!' cried Mrs. Thrale; 'see if the tears are not come already.'

"Loud and rude bursts of laughter broke from us all at once. How, indeed, could they be restrained ?”

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Streatham, Sunday, June 13, 1779.—After church we all strolled round the grounds, and the topic of our discourse was Miss Streatfield. Mrs. Thrale asserted that she had a power of captivation that was irresistible;

that her beauty, joined to her softness, her caressing manners, her tearful eyes, and alluring looks, would insinuate her into the heart of any man she thought worth attacking.

"Sir Philip declared himself of a totally different opinion, and quoted Dr. Johnson against her, who had told him that, taking away her Greek, she was as ignorant as a butterfly.

"Mr. Seward declared her Greek was all against her with him, for that, instead of reading Pope, Swift, or the Spectator-books from which she might derive useful knowledge and improvement—it had led her to devote all her reading time to the first eight books of Homer.

"But,' said Mrs. Thrale, 'her Greek, you must own, has made all her celebrity;-you would have heard no more of her than of any other pretty girl, but for that.'

"What I object to,' said Sir Philip, is her avowed preference for this parson. Surely it Surely it is very indelicate in any lady to let all the world know with whom she is in love!"

"The parson,' said the severe Mr. Seward, 'I suppose, spoke first, or she would as soon have been in love with you, or with me!'

"You will easily believe I gave him no pleasant look."

The parson was the Rev. Dr. Vyse, Rector of Lambeth. He had made an imprudent marriage early in life, and was separated from his wife, of whom he hoped

to get rid either by divorce or by her death, as she was reported to be in bad health. Under these circumstances, he had entered into a conditional engagement with the fair S. S.; but eventually threw her over, either in despair at his wife's longevity or from caprice. On the mention of his name by Boswell, Mrs. Piozzi writes opposite: "whose connection with Sophia Streatfield was afterwards so much talked about, and I suppose never understood: certainly not at all by H. L. P." To return to the D'Arblay Diary:

fatiguing."

"Streatham, June 14, 1781. We had my dear father and Sophy Streatfield, who, as usual, was beautiful, caressing, amiable, sweet, and "Streatham, Aug. 1781. 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,