He then went on to tell me that I had done the most wonderful of wonders in pleasing the old wits, particularly the Duchess of Portland and Mrs. Delany, who resisted reading the book till they were teased into it, and, since they began, could do nothing else—and he failed not to point out, with his utmost eloquence, the difficulty of giving satisfaction to those who piqued themselves upon being past receiving it.
“But,” said he, “I have one other fault to find, and a more material one than any I have mentioned.”
“I am the more obliged to you. What is it?”
“The disposal of this book. I have much advice to offer to you upon that subject. Why did not you send for your own friend out of the city? he would have taken care you should not part with it so much below par.”
He meant Mr. Briggs.[163]
Sir Joshua Reynolds now joined us.
“Are you telling her,” said he, “of our conversation with the old wits? I am glad you hear it from Mr. Burke, Miss Burney, for he can tell it so much better than I can, and remember their very words.”
“Nothing else would they talk of for three whole hours,” said he, “and we were there at the third reading of the bill.”
“I believe I was in good hands,” said I, “if they talked of it to you?”
“Why, yes,” answered Sir Joshua, laughing, “we joined in from time to time. Gibbon says he read the whole five volumes in a day.”