been fabricated for Dr. Johnson;
and, therefore, though not without difficulty, constrained herself to
be passive.

"When, however, she observed the sardonic disposition of Mr. Greville
to stare around him at the whole company in curious silence, she felt
a defiance against his aristocracy beat in every pulse; for, however
grandly he might look back to the long ancestry of the Brookes and
the Grevilles, she had a glowing consciousness that her own blood,
rapid and fluent, flowed in her veins from Adam of Saltsberg; and, at
length, provoked by the dullness of a taciturnity that, in the midst
of such renowned interlocutors, produced as narcotic a torpor as
could have been caused by a dearth the most barren of human
faculties; she grew tired of the music, and yet more tired of
remaining, what as little suited her inclinations as her abilities, a
mere cipher in the company; and, holding such a position, and all its
concomitants, to be ridiculous, her spirits rose rebelliously above
her control; and, in a fit of utter recklessness of what might be
thought of her by her fine new acquaintance, she suddenly, but
softly, arose, and stealing on tip-toe behind Signor Piozzi, who was
accompanying himself on the piano-forte to an animated _arria
parlante_, with his back to the company, and his face to the wall;
she ludicrously began imitating him by squaring her elbows, elevating
them with ecstatic shrugs of the shoulders, and casting up her eyes,
while languishingly reclining her head; as if she were not less
enthusiastically, though somewhat more suddenly, struck with the
transports of harmony than himself.

"This grotesque ebullition of ungovernable gaiety was not perceived
by Dr. Johnson, who faced the fire, with his back to the performer
and the instrument. But the amusement which such an unlooked for
exhibition caused to the party, was momentary; for Dr. Burney,
shocked lest the poor Signor should observe, and be hurt by this
mimicry, glided gently round to Mrs. Thrale, and, with something
between pleasantness and severity, whispered to her, 'Because, Madam,
you have no ear yourself for music, will you destroy the attention of
all who, in that one point, are otherwise gifted?'

"It was now that shone the brightest attribute of Mrs. Thrale,
sweetness of temper. She took this rebuke with a candour, and a sense
of its justice the most amiable: she nodded her approbation of the
admonition; and, returning to her chair, quietly