At breakfast, Dr. Johnson asked me, if I had been reading his Life of Cowley?

   "Oh yes," said I.

   "And what do you think of it.

   "I am delighted with it," cried I; "and if I was somebody, I should not have read it without telling you sooner what I think of it, and unasked."

   Again, when I took up Cowley's Life, he made me put it away to talk. I could not help remarking how very like Dr. Johnson is to his writing; and how much the same thing it was to hear or to read him;, but that nobody could tell that without coming to Streatham, for his language was generally imagined to be laboured and studied, instead of the mere common flow of his thoughts.

   "Very true," said Mrs. Thrale, "he writes and talks with the same ease, and in the same manner; but, sir (to him), if this rogue is like her book, how will she trim all of us by and by! Now, she dainties us up with all the meekness in the world; but when we are away, I suppose she pays us off finely."

   "My paying off," cried I, "is like the Latin of Hudibras,
"". . . who never scanted,
His learning unto such as wanted;" for I can figure like anything when I am with those who can't figure at all."

   Mrs. T. -- -Oh, if you have any mag in you, we"ll draw it out!

   Dr. J. -- -A rogue! she told me that if she was somebody instead of nobody, she would praise my book!

   F. B. -- -Why, sir, I am sure you would scoff my praise.

   Dr. J. -- -If you think that, you think very ill of me; but you don't think it.

   Mrs. T. -- -We have told her what you said to Miss More, and I believe that makes her afraid.

   Dr. Johnson. -- -Well, and if she was to serve me as Miss More did, I should say the same thing of her. But I think she will not. Hannah More has very good intellects, too; but she has by no means the elegance of Miss Burney.

   "Well," cried I, "there are folks that are to be spoilt, and folks that are not to be spoilt, as well in the world as in the nursery; but what will become of me, I know not."

   Mrs. T. -- -Well, if you are spoilt, we can only say, nothing in the world is so pleasant as being spoilt.

   Dr. J. -- -No, no; Burney will not be spoilt; she knows too well what praise she has a claim to, and what not, to be in any danger of spoiling.

   F. B. -- -I do, indeed, believe I shall never be spoilt at Streatham, for it is the last place where I can feel of any consequence.

   Mrs. T. -- -Well, sir, she is our Miss Burney, however; we were the first to catch her, and now we have got, we will keep her And so she is all our own.

   Dr. J. -- -Yes, I hope she is; I should be very sorry to lose Miss Burney.

   F. B. -- -Oh, dear! how can two such people sit and talk such -- -

   Mrs. T. -- -Such stuff, you think? but Dr. Johnson's love -- -

   Dr. J. -- -Love ? no, I don't entirely love her yet; I must see more of her first; I have much too high an opinion of her to flatter her. I have, indeed, seen nothing of her but what is fit to be loved, but I must know her more. I admire her, and greatly too.

   F. B. -- -Well, this is a very new style to me! I have long enough had reason to think myself loved, but admiration is perfectly new to me.

   Dr. J. -- -I admire her for her observation, for her good sense, for her humour, for her discernment, for

   I quite sigh beneath the weight of such praise from such persons -- -sigh with mixed gratitude for the present, and fear for the future; for I think I shall never, never be able to support myself long so well with them.

   We could not prevail with him to stay till Mrs. Montagu arrived. . . .

   When dinner was upon table, I followed the procession, in a tragedy step, as Mr. Thrale will have it, into the dining-parlour. Dr. Johnson was returned.

   The conversation was not brilliant, nor do I remember much of it; but Mrs. Montagu behaved to me just as I could have wished, since she spoke to me very little, but spoke that little with the utmost politeness. But Miss Gregory, though herself a very modest girl, quite stared me out of countenance, and never took her eyes off my face.

   When Mrs. Montagu's new house was talked of, Dr. Johnson, in a jocose manner, desired to know if he should be invited to see it.

   "Ay, sure," cried Mrs. Montague, looking well pleased; "or else I shan't like it: but I invite you all to a house warming; I shall hope for the honour of seeing all this company at my new house next Easter day: I fix the day now that it may be remembered."

   Everybody bowed and accepted the invite but me,

   "Little Burney, you and I will go together!"

   "Yes, surely," cried Mrs. Montagu, "I shall hope for the pleasure of seeing "Evelina.""

   "Evelina?" repeated he; "has Mrs. Montagu then found out Evelina?

   "Yes," cried she, "and I am proud of it; I am proud that a work so commended should be a woman's."

   Oh, how my face burnt!

   "Has Mrs. Montagu," asked Dr. Johnson, "read Evelina?"

   "No, sir, not yet; but I shall immediately, for I feel the greatest eagerness to read it."

   ,"I am very sorry, madam," replied he, "that you have not read it already, because you cannot speak of it with a full conviction of its merits: which, I believe, when you have read it, you will find great pleasure in acknowledging."

   Some other things were said, but I remember them not, for I could hardly keep my place: but my sweet, naughty Mrs. Thrale looked delighted for me.

   I made tea as usual, and Mrs. Montagu and Miss Gregory seated themselves on each side of me.

   "I can see," said the former, "that Miss Burney is very like her father, and that is a good thing, for everybody would wish to be like Dr. Burney. Pray,

   "I am sure," cried Mrs. Thrale, "Dr. Burney would much rather you should have employed that time about the other book."

   They went away very early, because Mrs. Montagu is a great coward in a carriage. She repeated her invitation as she left the room. So now that I am invited to Mrs. Montagu's, I think the measure of my glory full!

   When they were gone, how did Dr. Johnson astonish me by asking if I had observed what an ugly cap Miss Gregory had on? And then taking both my hands, and looking at me with an expression of much kindness, he said,

   "Well, Miss Burney, Mrs. Montagu now will read Evelina."

   To read it he seems to think is all that is wanted, and, far as I am from being of the same opinion, I dare not to him make disqualifying speeches, because it might seem impertinent to suppose her more diffcult to please than himself.

   "You are very kind, sir," cried!, "to speak of it with so much favour and indulgence at dinner; yet I hardly knew how to sit it then, though I shall be always proud to remember it hereafter."

   "Why, it is true," said he, kindly, "that such things are disagreeable to sit, nor do I wonder you were distressed; yet sometimes they are necessary."

   Was this not very kind? I am sure he meant that the sanction of his good opinion, so publicly given to Mrs. Montagu, would in a manner stamp the success of my book; and though, had I been allowed to preserve the snugness I had planned, I need not have concerned myself at all about its fate, yet now that I find myself exposed with it, I cannot but wish it insured from disgrace.

   "Well, sir," cried I, "I don't think I shall mind Mrs. Montagu herself now; after what you have said, I believe I should not mind even abuse from any one."

   "No, no, never mind them!" cried he; "resolve not to mind them: they can do you no serious hurt.

   Mrs. Thrale then told me such civil things. Mrs. Montagu, it seems, during my retreat, inquired very particularly what kind of book it was?

   "And I told her," continued Mrs. Thrale, "that it was a picture of life, manners, and characters.

   But won't she go on?" says she; surely she won t stop here?"

   ""Why," said! "I want her to go on a new path -- -I want her to write a comedy.

   ""But," said Mrs. Montagu, "one thing must be considered; Fielding, who was so admirable in novel- writing, never succeeded when he wrote for the stage.""

   "Very well said," cried Dr. Johnson; "that was