ECCENTRIC MR. BRYANT.
Feb. 9-This morning, soon after my breakfast, the princess royal came to fetch me to the queen. She talked of Mrs. Delany all the way, and in terms of affection that can never fail to raise her in the minds of all who hear her. The queen was alone; and told me she had been so much struck with the Duke of Suffolk’s letter to his son, in the Paston collection,[231] that she wished to hear my opinion of it. She then condescended to read it to me. It is indeed both instructive and interesting. She was so gracious, when she dismissed me, as to lend me the book, desiring me to have it sent back to her apartment when I went to dinner.
I had invited Mr. Bryant to dinner. He came an hour before, and I could not read “Paston,” but rejoiced the more in his living intelligence. We talked upon the “Jew’s Letters,” which he had lent me. Have I mentioned them? They are a mighty well written defence of the Mosaic law and mission, and as orthodox for Christians as for Jews, with regard to their main tenor, which is to refute the infidel doctrine of Voltaire up to the time of our Saviour.
Before our dinner we were joined by ‘Mr. Smelt; and the conversation was then very good. The same subject was continued, except where it was interrupted by Mr. Bryant’s speaking of his own works, which was very frequently, and with a droll sort of simplicity that had a mixture of nature and of humour extremely amusing. He told us, very frankly his manner of writing; he confessed that what he first committed to paper seldom could be printed without variation or correction, even to a single line: he copied everything over, he said, himself, and three transcribings were the fewest he could ever make do; but, generally, nothing went from him to the press under seven.
Mr. Turbulent and Miss Planta came to dinner, and it was very cheerful. Ere it was over John told me somebody wanted me. I desired they might be shewn to my room till the things were removed; but, as these were some time taking away, I called John to let me know who it was. “The princess royal, ma’am,” was his answer, with perfect ease.
Up I started, ashamed and eager, and flew to her royal highness instantly: and I found her calmly and quietly waiting, shut up in my room, without any candles, and almost wholly in the dark, except from the light of the fire! I made all possible apologies, and doubled and trebled them upon her Smilingly saying “I would not let them tell you who it was, nor hurry you, for I know ’tis so disagreeable to be called away in the middle of dinner.” And then, to reconcile me to the little accident, she took hold of both my hands.
She came to me from the queen, about the “Paston Letters,” which John had not carried to the right page.
Very soon after came the king, who entered into a gay disquisition with Mr. Bryant upon his school achievements to which he answered with a readiness and simplicity highly entertaining.
“You are an Etonian, Mr. Bryant,” said the king, “but pray, for what were you most famous at school?”
We all expected, from the celebrity of his scholarship, to hear him answer his Latin Exercises but no such thing.
“Cudgelling, Sir. I was most famous for that.”
While a general laugh followed this speech, he very gravely proceeded to particularize his feats though unless you could see the diminutive figure, the weak, thin, feeble, little frame, whence issued the proclamation of his prowess, you can but very Inadequately judge the comic effect of his big talk.
“Your majesty, sir, knows General Conway? I broke his head for him, sir.”
The shout which ensued did not at all interfere with the steadiness of his further detail.
“And there’s another man, Sir, a great stout fellow, Sir, as ever you saw—Dr. Gibbon, of the Temple: I broke his head too, sir.—I don’t know if he remembers it.”
The king, afterwards, inquired after his present family, meaning his dogs, which he is famed for breeding and preserving.
“Why, sir,” he answered, “I have now only twelve. Once, I recollect, when your majesty was so gracious as to ask me about them, I happened to have twenty-two; and so I told you, sir. Upon my word, Sir, it made me very uneasy afterwards when I came to reflect upon it: I was afraid your majesty might think I presumed to joke!”
The king then asked him for some account of the Marlborough family, with which he is very particularly connected and desired to know which among the young Lady Spencers was his favourite.
“Upon my word, sir, I like them all! Lady Elizabeth is a charming young lady—I believe, Sir, I am most in her favour; I don’t know why, Sir. But I happened to write a letter to the duke, sir, that she took a fancy to; I don’t know the reason, sir, but she begged it. I don’t know what was in the letter, sir-I could never find out; but she took a prodigious fancy to it, sir.”
The king laughed heartily, and supposed there might be some compliments to herself in it.
“Upon my word’ sir,” cried he, “I am afraid your majesty will think I was in love with her! but indeed, sir, I don’t know what was in the letter.”
The converse went on in the same style, and the king was so much entertained by Mr. Bryant, that he stayed almost the whole evening.