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 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:

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

"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,

she would make an impression that would soften even your hard heart.'

"No need of any further trial,' said he, laughing, 'for she has done that already; and so soft was the impression that it absolutely all dissolved!-melted quite away, and not a trace of it left!'

"Mr. Seward then proposed that she should marry Sir John Miller, 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?'

"Why, that's the thing,' said he; 'no, I can't take the little Sophy myself; I should have too many rivals; 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.

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"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."

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London, Jan. 1783.- Before they went came Miss Streatfield, looking pale, but very elegant and pretty.

She was in high spirits, and I hope has some reason. She made, at least, speeches that provoked such surmises. When the Jacksons went,

6

"That,' said I, 'is the celebrated Jackson of Exeter; I dare say you would like him if you knew him.' "I dare say I should,' cried she, simpering; for he has the two requisites for me, he is tall and thin.'

"To be sure, this did not at all call for raillery! Dr. Vyse has always been distinguished by these two epithets. I said, however, nothing, as my mother was present; but she would not let my looks pass unnoticed.

"Oh!' cried she, 'how wicked you look!-No need of seeing Mrs. Siddons for expression!-However, you know how much that is my taste,-tall and thin!-but you don't know how àpropos it is just now!" "

Nine years after the last entry, we find:

“May 25, 1792.-We now met Mrs. Porteous; and who should be with her but the poor pretty S. S., whom so long I had not seen, and who has now lately been finally given up by her long-sought and very injurious lover, Dr. Vyse?

"She is sadly faded, and looked disturbed and unhappy; but still beautiful, though no longer blooming; and still affectionate, though absent and evidently absorbed. We had a little chat together about the Thrales. In mentioning our former intimacy with them, 'Ah, those,' she cried, 'were happy times!' and her eyes glistened. Poor thing! hers has been a

lamentable story!-Imprudence and vanity have rarely been mixed with so much sweetness, and good-humour, and candour, and followed with more reproach and ill success. We agreed to renew acquaintance next winter; at present she will be little more in town."

In a letter to Madame D'Arblay, Oct. 20, 1820, Mrs. Piozzi says: "Fell, the bookseller in Bond Street, told me a fortnight or three weeks ago, that Miss Streatfield lives where she did in his neighbourhood, Clifford Street, S. S. still." On the 18th January, 1821: "The once charming S. S. had inquired for me of Nornaville and Fell, the Old Bond Street booksellers, so I thought she meditated writing, but was deceived."

The story she told the author of " Piozziana," in proof of Johnson's want of firmness, clearly refers to this lady:

"I had remarked to her that Johnson's readiness to

condemn any moral deviation in others was, in a man so entirely before the public as he was, nearly a proof of his own spotless purity of conduct. She said, Yes, Johnson was, on the whole, a rigid moralist; but he could be ductile, I may say, servile; and I will give you an instance. We had a large dinner-party at our house; Johnson sat on one side of me, and Burke on the other; and in the company there was a young female (Mrs. Piozzi named her), to whom I, in my peevishness, thought Mr. Thrale superfluously attentive, to the neglect of me and others; especially of myself, then near my confinement, and dismally low-spirited;