One thing during the Course of the successless enquiry struck me, which gave me much comfort, which is, that those who wander in the world avowedly and purposely in search of happiness, who view every scene of present Joy with an Eye to what may succeed, certainly are more liable to disappointment, misfortune and sorrow, than those who give up their fate to chance and take the goods and evils of fortune as they come, without making happiness their study, or misery their foresight.

5. From Journal August 17681

I have been having a long conversation with Miss Young2 on journals. She has very seriously and earnestly advised me to give mine up– heigho-ho! Do you think I can bring myself to oblige her? What she says has great weight with me; but, indeed, I should be very loath to quite give my poor friend up. She says that it is the most dangerous employment young persons can have – it makes them often record things which ought not to be recorded, but instantly forgot. I told her, that as my Journal was solely for my own perusal, nobody could in justice, or even in sense, be angry or displeased at my writing any thing.

‘But how can you answer,’ said she, ‘that it is only for your perusal? That very circumstance of your papa’s finding it, shows you are not so very careful as is necessary for such a work. And if you drop it, and any improper person finds it, you know not the uneasiness it may cost you.’

‘Well but, dear ma’am, this is an “if” that may not happen once in a century.’

‘I beg your pardon; I know not how often it may happen; and even once might prove enough to give you more pain than you are aware of.’

‘Why, dear ma’am, papa never prohibited my writing, and he knows that I do write, and what I do write.’

‘I question that. However, ’tis impossible for you to answer for the curiosity of others. And suppose any body finds a part in which they are extremely censured.’

‘Why then, they must take it for their pains. It was not wrote for them, but me, and I cannot see any harm in writing to myself.’

‘It was very well whilst there were only your sisters with you to do anything of this kind; but, depend upon it, when your connections are enlarged, your family increased, your acquaintance multiplied, young and old so apt to be curious – depend upon it, Fanny, ’tis the most dangerous employment you can have. Suppose now, for example, your favourite wish were granted, and you were to fall in love, and then the object of your passion were to get sight of some part which related to himself?’

‘Why then, Miss Young, I must make a little trip to Rosamond’s Pond.’3

‘Why, ay, I doubt it would be all you would have left.’

‘Dear Miss Young! – But I’m sure, by your earnestness, that you think worse of my poor Journal than it deserves.’

‘I know very well the nature of these things. I know that in journals, thoughts, actions, looks, conversations – all go down; do they not?’

The conclusion of our debate was, that if I would show her some part of what I had wrote she should be a better judge, and would then give me her best advice whether to proceed or not. I believe I shall accept her condition; though I own I shall show it with shame and fear, for such nonsense is so unworthy her perusal.

I’m sure, besides, I know not what part to choose. Shall I take at random?

6. From Journal September 1768

[Poland Street]

Mr Smart1 the poet was here yesterday. He is the Author of the ‘Old Woman’s Magazine’ and of several poetical productions, some of which are sweetly elegant and pretty – for example – ‘Harriet’s Birth Day’ – ‘Care and Generosity’ – and many more. This ingenius Writer is one of the most unfortunate of men – he has been twice confined in a mad House – and but last year sent a most affecting Epistle to papa, to entreat him to lend him ½ a Guinea! – How great a pity so clever, so ingenius a man should be reduced to such shocking circumstances. He is extremely grave, and has still great wildness in his manner, looks and voice – but ’tis impossible to see him and to think of his works, without feeling the utmost pity and concern for him.

7. From Journal 14–15 May 1769

O! I am to go to a Wedding to-morrow – the partys – one Mr John Hutton, Glass polisher,1 and Mrs Betty Langely spinster, our old Cook – perhaps I may give you, Miss Nobody, an account of this affair tomorrow. I never had the honour of being at a Wedding in my life – but tho’ this will be the first, I fancy it will not be the last too.

Monday Eve. May 15th

Well, the wedding is over, the good folks are Join’d for better for worse – – A shocking Clause that! – ’tis preparing one to lead a long Journey, and to know the path is not altogether strew’d with Roses – This same marriage Ceremony is so short, I really should have doubted its validity had I been the Bride; though perhaps she may not find the Road it leads her to be very short; be that as it may, she must now trudge on, she can only return with her wishes, be she ever so wearied.

We have spent an exceeding agreeable Day. I speak for myself and a few more at least, I will not answer for the Bride and the Groom’s feelings, at least not for the latter – tho’ they niether of them appeared miserable; but had I been that latter, I fear I could not have said so much for myself. – As to the Bride, she is blythe as the month; if one can compare in any degree a weed of December, with the fragrance of May; for a weed in truth it is, and a weed not in its first prime. But I must give some account of the wedding; – To begin with the Company, first,

The Bride. A maiden of about fifty, short, thick, clumsy, vulgar; her complection the finest saffron, and her Features suited to it: she was Dress’d in a white Linnen Gown, and with all the elegance which marks her character and station, having the honour to be Cook to Mr Burney.

The Bridegroom. A young man who had the appearance of being her son. A good, modest, sober and decent youth. Every body must allow this Couple to be exceedingly well and very properly match’d. He was in Blue, trim’d with Red: N:B: the choice of these Colours are suited to the choice of the partys.2

The Father – (of the Day) Mr Charles Burney Junior.3 It must be acknowledged that this accomplish’d virgin was determin’d to have every thing in Character; as not meerly her Husband, but her Father too was young enough to own her for a mother. It is generally allow’d Originality displays genius.

The Bride’s maids. Miss Anne Burney, a Virgin who may count years with the Bride herself, though I fear she would not pretend to equal her in accomplishments: Miss Esther Burney,4 who, more modest still, pretends not to equal her in any thing; – not even in her wishes, except it be for this last step she has taken: and Miss Frances Burney, who in nothing can equal the Bride.

The rest of the Company – a Mrs Ritson and a Mr Somebody, no matter what, – Betty’s friends –

And thus the Train closed.

We went in Papa’s Coach, as many as it would hold, – the Gentlemen were obliged to walk – which condescendsion is not inconsiderable, for the Mr Somebody, and the Bridegroom too, have the honour of being Footman to very topping people! The Bride supported her spirits amazingly.

8.