Mrs. Yates, in her last illness, and indeed for a considerable period which preceded it, had the consolation and the society of her beloved friend, Mrs. Brook. Her testimony, declared in the strongest and most unequivocal manner, is also to be added to that of the narrative, in contradiction of the aspersion on the fame of Mrs. Yates, to which there has before been allusion.
Mrs. Brook was a very distinguished woman; she had excellent and highly cultivated talents, and made the best use of them. She was very highly esteemed by Dr. Johnson, who frequently visited her, and she also reckoned among her friends, some of the most distinguished literary characters of her time. The friendship between her and Mrs. Yates, commenced at an early period, and was only terminated by death. Her husband was Chaplain to the English garrison at Quebec, and she accompanied him thither. Previously to her departure for Canada, she gave an entertainment to her particular friends, among whom was Dr. Johnson. On the breaking up of the company, the Doctor, with the rest, took leave of their hostess with the customary good wishes. After a little interval, the servant came to the drawing-room, to inform Mrs. Brook, that Dr. Johnson wished to speak with her in the parlour below. She accordingly went down to him. “Madam,” said the Doctor, on her entering the room, with his usual solemnity of manner, “I thought I might never see you again, so I wished to salute you before we parted, which I did not choose to do before company.” The Doctor accordingly saluted her, and took his leave. This anecdote was communicated to the writer by Mrs. Brook herself.
On her return from Canada, she wrote and published Emily Montague, which was universally admired, as well for the story as for the very beautiful descriptions of the scenery she had just visited. It is not, however, intended in this place, nor indeed would it be expedient, to enter into any critical discussion concerning this excellent woman’s various works. They were all well received, except, perhaps, one or two of her pieces for the stage. She had been on good terms with Garrick, but she conceived that he had treated her ill, by the rejection of a tragedy; and though one of the mildest and gentlest of human beings, she took her revenge in a novel called “The Excursion.” She retired from the world on the death, of her friend, Mrs. Yates, and finished her career at the house of her son, who was a clergyman in Lincolnshire.
Her husband, Dr. Brook, was a very extraordinary personage, and in no one instance bore the smallest resemblance to his partner. He was one of the finest figures for an artist that can be imagined, having a most impressive countenance, and hair as white as snow. He was one of the greatest bon vivants of his time, had considerable conversation talents, and a very numerous circle of friends. But the deity of the table was almost the only one he worshipped with consistent devotion, and in pursuance of this object, he was a member of a club which was called Number Six. It consisted of six members; they met at six in the evening, and never parted till six in the morning.
Notwithstanding his habitual indulgence in the festivities of the table, the old Gentleman lived to a very advanced age, and died within five days of his wife.
The son was an amiable man, of no very remarkable talents, except for music; he was an admirable performer on the German flute. He was educated at St Paul’s school, from whence he went to Cambridge, and afterwards to reside on a small piece of preferment purchased for him by his mother. There he died early.