Volume II Part 18 (1/2)

During this extraordinary connection, Swift was accustomed to address her in verse. Some of these poems, though worthless as poetry, derive interest from the beauty of her character, and from that concentrated vigour of expression which was the characteristic of all he wrote; as in this descriptive pa.s.sage:--

Her hearers are amazed from whence Proceeds that fund of wit and sense, Which, though her modesty would shroud, Breaks like the sun behind a cloud; While gracefulness its art conceals, And yet through every motion steals.

Say, Stella, was Prometheus blind, And forming you, mistook your kind?

No; 'twas for you alone he stole The fire that forms a manly soul; Then, to complete it every way, He moulded it with female clay: To _that_ you owe the n.o.bler flame, To _this_ the beauty of your frame.

He compliments her sincerity and firmness of principle in four nervous lines:

Ten thousand oaths upon record Are not so sacred as her word!

The world shall in its atoms end, Ere Stella can deceive a friend!

Her tender attention to him in sickness and suffering, is thus described, with a tolerable insight into his own character.

To her I owe That I these pains can undergo; She tends me like an humble slave, And, when indecently I rave, When out my brutish pa.s.sions break, With gall in every word I speak, She, with soft speech, my anguish cheers, Or melts my pa.s.sions down with tears: Although 'tis easy to descry She wants a.s.sistance more than I, She seems to feel my pains alone, And is a Stoic to her own.

Where, among scholars, can you find So soft, and yet so firm a mind?

These lines, dated March, 1724, are the more remarkable, because they refer to a period when Stella had much to forgive;--when she had just been injured, in the tenderest point, by the man who owed to her tenderness and forbearance all the happiness that his savage temper allowed him to taste on earth.

As Stella pa.s.sed much of her time in solitude, she read a great deal.

She received Swift's friends, many of whom were clever and distinguished men, particularly Sheridan and Delany; and on his public days she dined as a guest at his table, where, says his biographer,[108] ”the modesty of her manners, the sweetness of her disposition, and the brilliance of her wit, rendered her the general object of admiration to all who were so happy as to have a place in that enviable society.”

Johnson says that, ”if Swift's ideas of women were such as he generally exhibits, a very little sense in a lady would enrapture, and a very little virtue astonish him;” and thinks, therefore, that Stella's supremacy might be ”only local and comparative;” but it is not the less true, that she was beheld with tenderness and admiration by all who approached her; and whether she could spell or not,[109] she could certainly write very pretty verses, considering whom she had chosen for her model:--for instance, the following little effusion, in reply to a compliment addressed to her:

If it be true, celestial powers, That you have formed me fair, And yet, in all my vainest hours, My mind has been my care; Then, in return, I beg this grace, As you were ever kind, What envious time takes from my face, Bestow upon my mind!

She had continued to live on in this strange undefinable state of dependance for fourteen years, ”in pale contented sort of discontent,”

though her spirit was so borne down by the habitual awe in which he held her, that she never complained--when the suspicion that a younger and fairer rival had usurped the heart she possessed, if not the rights she coveted, added the tortures of jealousy to those of lingering suspense and mortified affection.

A new attachment had, in fact, almost entirely estranged Swift from her, and from his home. While in London, from 1710 to 1712, he was accustomed to visit at the house of Mrs. Vanhomrigh, and became so intimate, that during his attendance on the ministry at that time, he was accustomed to change his wig and gown, and drink his coffee there almost daily. Mrs.

Vanhomrigh had two daughters: the eldest, Esther, was destined to be the second victim of Swift's detestable selfishness, and become celebrated under the name of Vanessa.

She was of a character altogether different from that of Stella. Not quite so beautiful in person, but with all the freshness and vivacity of youth--(she was not twenty,) and adding to the advantages of polished manners and lively talents, a frank confiding temper, and a capacity for strong affections. She was rich, admired, happy, and diffusing happiness. Swift, as I have said, visited at the house of her mother.

His age, his celebrity, his character as a clergyman, gave him privileges of which he availed himself. He was pleased with Miss Vanhomrigh's talents, and undertook to direct her studies. She was ignorant of the ties which bound him to the unhappy Stella; and charmed by his powers of conversation, dazzled by his fame, won and flattered by his attentions, surrendered her heart and soul to him before she was aware; and her love partaking of the vivacity of her character, not only absorbed every other feeling, but, as she expressed it herself, ”became blended with every atom of her frame.”[110]

Swift, among his other lessons, took pains to impress her with his own favourite maxims (it had been well for both had he acted up to them himself)--”to speak the truth on all occasions, and at every hazard: and to do what seemed right in itself, without regard to the opinions or customs of the world.” He appears also to have insinuated the idea, that the disparity of their age and fortune rendered him distrustful of his own powers of pleasing.[111] She was thus led on, by his open admiration, and her own frank temper, to betray the state of her affections, and proffered to him her hand and fortune. He had not sufficient humanity, honour, or courage, to disclose the truth of his situation, but replied to the avowal of this innocent and warm-hearted girl, first in a tone of raillery, and then by an equivocal offer of everlasting friends.h.i.+p.

The scene is thus given in Cadenus and Vanessa.

Vanessa, though by Pallas taught, By Love invulnerable thought, Searching in books for wisdom's aid, Was in the very search betrayed.

Cadenus many things had writ; Vanessa much esteemed his wit, And call'd for his poetic works.

Mean time the boy in secret lurks; And, while the book was in her hand The urchin from his private stand Took aim, and shot with all his strength A dart of such prodigious length, It pierced the feeble volume through, And deep transfix'd her bosom too.

Some lines, more moving than the rest, Stuck to the point that pierced her breast, And borne directly to the heart, With pains unknown, increas'd her smart.

Vanessa, not in years a score, Dreams of a gown of forty-four; Imaginary charms can find, In eyes with reading almost blind.

Cadenus now no more appears Declin'd in health, advanc'd in years; She fancies music in his tongue, Nor farther looks, but thinks him young.

Vanessa is then made to disclose her tenderness. The expressions and the sentiments are probably as true to the facts as was consistent with the rhyme: but how cold, how flat, how prosaic! no emotion falters in the lines--not a feeling blushes through them!--as if an ardent but delicate and gentle girl would ever have made a first avowal of pa.s.sion in this _chop-logic_ style--