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MISCELLANEOUS EXTRACTS FROM "THRALIANA."*

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Miss Sreatfield. I have since heard that Dr. Collier picked up a more useful friend, a Mrs. Streatfield, a widow, high in fortune and rather eminent both for the beauties of person and mind; her children, I find, he has been educating; and her eldest daughter is just now coming out into the world with a great character for elegance and literature. 20 November, 1776.

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19 May, 1778.. - The person who wrote the title of this book at the top of the page, on the other side, - left hand, — in the black letter, was the identical Miss Sophia Streatfield, mentioned in "Thraliana," as pupil to poor dear Doctor Collier, after he and I had parted. By the chance meeting of some of the currents which keep this ocean of human life from stagnating, this lady and myself were driven together nine months ago at Brighthelmstone; we soon grew intimate from having often heard of each other, and I have now the honor and happiness of calling her my friend. Her face is eminently pretty; her carriage elegant; her heart affectionate, and her mind cultivated. There is above all this an attractive sweetness in her manner, which claims and promises to repay one's confidence, and which drew from me the secret of my keeping a "Thraliana," &c., &c., &c.

Jan. 1779. Mr. Thrale is fallen in love really and seriously with Sophy Streatfield; but there is no wonder in that she is very pretty, very gentle, soft, and insinuating; hangs about him, dances round him, cries when she parts from him, squeezes his hand slyly, and with her sweet eyes full of tears looks so fondly

*These extracts reached me after the preceding sheets were printed off.

in his face,*

and all for love of me, as she pretends; that I can hardly, sometimes, help laughing in her face. A man must not be a man but an it, to resist such artillery. Marriott said very well,

"Man flatt'ring man, not always can prevail,

But woman flatt'ring man, can never fail."

Murphy did not use, I think, to have a good opinion of me, but he seems to have changed his mind this Christmas, and to believe better of me. I am glad on 't to be sure the suffrage of such a man is well worth having: he sees Thrale's love of the fair S. S. I suppose; approves my silent and patient endurance of what I could not prevent by more rough and sincere behavior.

20 January, 1780. - - Sophy Streatfield is come to town, she is in the "Morning Post" too, I see (to be in the "Morning Post" is no good thing). She has won Wedderburne's heart from his wife, I believe, and few married women will bear that patiently if I do; they will some of them wound her reputation, so that I question whether it can recover. Lady Erskine made many odd enquiries about her to me yesterday, and winked and looked wise at her sister. The dear S. S. must be a little on her guard; nothing is so spiteful as a woman robbed of a heart she thinks she has a claim upon. She will not lose that with temper, which she has taken perhaps no pains at all to preserve; and I do not observe with any pleasure, I fear, that my husband prefers Miss Streatfield to me, though I must acknowledge her younger, handsomer, and a better scholar. Of her chastity, however, I never had a doubt; she was bred by Dr. Collier in the strictest principles of piety and virtue; she not only knows she will be always chaste, but she knows why she will be so. Mr. Thrale is now by dint of disease quite out of the question, so I am a disinterested spectator; but her coquetry is very dangerous indeed, and I wish she were married that there might be an end on 't. Mr. Thrale loves her, however, sick or well, better by a thousand degrees

*"And Merlin looked and half believed her true,

So tender was her voice, so fair her face,
So sweetly gleamed her eyes behind her tears,
Like sunlight on the plain, behind a shower."

Idylls of the King. — Vivien.

than he does me or any one else, and even now desires nothing on earth half so much as the sight of his Sophia.

"E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries!

E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires!"

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The Saturday before Mr. Thrale was taken ill — Saturday, 19th February—he was struck Monday, 21st February — we had a large party to tea, cards, and supper; Miss Streatfield was one, and as Mr. Thrale sate by her, he pressed her hand to his heart (as she told me herself), and said, "Sophy, we shall not enjoy this long, and to-night I will not be cheated of my only comfort." Poor soul! how shockingly tender! on the first Fryday that he spoke after his stupor, she came to see him, and as she sate by the bedside pitying him, "O," says he, "who would not suffer even all that I have endured to be pitied by you!" This I heard myself.

Here is Sophy Streatfield again, handsomer than ever, and flushed with new conquests; the Bishop of Chester feels her power, I am sure; she showed me a letter from him that was as tender and had all the tokens upon it as strong as ever I remember to have seen 'em; I repeated to her out of Pope's Homer "Very well, Sophy," says I:

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Miss Streatfield (says my master) could have quoted these lines in the Greek; his saying so piqued me, and piqued me because it was true. I wish I understood Greek! Mr. Thrale's preference of her to me never vexed me so much as my consciousness or fear at least - that he has reason for his preference. She has ten times my beauty, and five times my scholarship — wit and knowledge has she none.

May, 1781. Sophy Streatfield is an incomprehensible girl; here has she been telling me such tender passages of what passed between her and Mr. Thrale, that she half frights me somehow, at the same time declaring her attachment to Vyse, yet her willingness to marry Lord Loughborough. Good God! what an uncommon girl! and handsome almost to perfection, I think :

*For Hector.

delicate in her manners, soft in her voice, and strict in her principles: I never saw such a character, she is wholly out of my reach; and I can only say that the man who runs mad for Sophy Streatfield has no reason to be ashamed of his passion; few people, however, seem disposed to take her for life, —everybody's admiration, as Mrs. Byron says, and nobody's choice.

Streatham, 1st January, 1782.- Sophy Streatfield has begun the new year nicely with a new conquest. Poor dear Doctor Burney! he is now the reigning favorite, 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.

Miss Nicholson. After stating that she went to London, early in June, 1784, to procure a suitable companion for her daughters, after her marriage with Piozzi should have taken place, and mentioning several disappointments, Mrs. Piozzi goes

on to say:

"Providence, however, directed a Miss Nicholson to my door, and her peculiarly pleasing manners attracted me strongly. She referred me to Mr. Evans of Southwark for her character; and to every exterior accomplishment no objection could be made. Correct though sprightly, and steady though cheerful in her manner; the elegance of her form, the maturity of her age, and the soft expression of her countenance fixed my election, and I brought home to my daughters a woman of fashion fit for them to reside or converse or consult with. This sweet Miss Nicholson will make all still more smooth to me; she is a well-wisher to the cause, and will, when the girls are parted from me, keep them from hating or trampling on the memory of a mother who adores them; she professes to like me excessively, and if she

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