heavily along; not one white day in the Calendar, not one hour of comfort, nor did even a ray of hope pierce through the gloom. The ftate of his mind is ftrongly pictured in a letter to Mrs. Whiteway. I have been very miferable all night, and to-day extremely deaf and full of pain. I am so ftupid and confounded, that I cannot exprefs the mortification I am under both in body and mind. All I can fay is, that I am not in torture's but I daily and hourly expect it. Pray let me know how your health is, and your family. I hardly understand one word I write. I am fure my days will be very few; few and miferable they muft be. I am for thofe few days, If I do not blunder, it is Saturday, July 26, 1740: Yours entirely, Not long after the date of this letter, his understanding failed to fuch a degree, that it was found neceffary to have guardians legally appointed to take care of his perfon and eftate. This was followed by a fit of lunacy, which continued fome months, and then he funk into a ftate of idiocy, which lafted to his death. He died October 29, 1745. The behaviour of the citizens on this occafion, gave the strongest proof of the deep impreffion he had made on their minds. Though he had been, for fo many years, to all intents and purposes dead to the world, and his departure from that state seemed a thing rather to be wished than deplored, yet no fooner was his death announced, than the citizens gathered from all quarters, and forced their way in crowds into the houfe, to pay the laft tribue of grief to their departed benefactor. Nothing but la mentations were heard all around the quarter where he lived, as if he had been cut off in the vigour of his years. Happy were they who firft got into the chamber where he lay, to procure, by bribes to the fervants, locks of his R 2 hair, hair, to be handed down as facred relicks to their poste rity. And fo eager were numbers to obtain at any price this precious memorial, that in lefs than an hour, his venerable head was entirely ftripped of all its filver ornaments, fo that not a hair remained. He was buried in the most private manner, according to directions in his will, in the great aifle of St. Patrick's Cathedral, and by way of monument, a flab of black marble was placed against the wall, on which was engraved the following Latin Epitaph, written by himself. Hic depofitum eft corpus Ubi fæva indignatio Et imitare, fi poteris, Menfis (Octobris) die (19) SECTION VI. PRIVATE MEMOIRS of SWIFT. HAVING now conducted Swift from his cradle to his grave, and prefented to view, in a regular feries, the most remarkable scenes of his publick life; I have pur *Yea beg a hair of him for memory, Unto their iffue, SHAKESPEARE. pofely pofely referved to this place the greater part of fuch Pri vate Memoirs, as were not meant to meet the publick eye, in order that I might arrange them alfo in an unin terrupted train. Nothing has more excited the curiofity. of mankind at all times, than that defire which prevails of prying into the secret actions of great and illuftrious characters; arifing in fome, from a too general fpirit of envy, which hopes to find something in their private conduct that may fully the luftre of their publick fame, and fo bring them down more to a level with themselves: and in others, of a more candid difpofition, that they might form right judgments of their real characters; as too many, like actors in a theatre, only affume one when they appear on the stage of the world, which they put off, together with their robes and plumes, when retired to the dreffing room. But as the readers of the former fort, are infinitely more numerous, in order to gratify their tafte, as well, perhaps, as their own congenial difpofition, the Writers of fuch Memoirs are too apt to lean to the malevolent fide, and deal rather in the more faleable commo, dity of obloquy and scandal, high-seasoned to the taste of vitiated palates, than in the milder and more infipid food of truth and panegyric. Many have been the mifreprefentations made of Swift, from this uncharitable fpirit; and though most of them have been proved to be fuch by his defenders, yet there are feveral ftill left in a state of doubt and uncertainty, through the want of proper information. Among thefe there is no article about which the world is ftill left fo much in the dark, as his amours. A fubject, which, in one of his fingular character, is more likely to excite curiofity than any other. We know there were two ladies, reprefented by him as the moft accomplished of their fex, adorned with all the charms and graces, both of perfon and mind, that might penetrate the most obdurate breaft, whofe hearts were wholly R 3 wholly devoted to him. We know too that he had a juft fense of their value, that he lived on terms of the closest friendship with both, but it does not appear that he ever made a fuitable return of love to either. As his conduct towards these two celebrated ladies, Stella and Vaneffa, seems to be wrapped up in the darkeft fhades of any part of his history, and has given rise to various conjectures, which yet have produced no fatis factory folution of the doubts which it has occafioned; I fhall endeavour, by collecting fome fcattered rays from different parts of his Works, and adding other lights which have come to my knowledge, to difperfe the myf terious gloom with which this fubject seems to have been inveloped, and put the whole in a clear point of view. In order to this, it will be neceffary, in the first place, to form a judgment how Swift ftood affected towards the female fex, either from conftitution, or reflection. With regard to the former, he seems to have been of a very cold habit, and little fpurred on by any impulse of defire: and as to the latter, he appears in the early part of his life to have had little inclination to enter into the married ftate, and afterwards to have had a fixed diflike to it. His fentiments on this head are fully displayed in the following letter to a kinfman of his, written in the 24th year of his age. To the Revd. Mr. JOHN KENDALL, &c. SIR, February 11, 1691. If any thing made me wonder at your letter, it was your almost inviting me to do fo in the beginning, which indeed grew lefs upon knowing the occafion, fince it is what I have heard from more than one, in and about * Vicar of Thornton in Leicestershire. Dr. Swift was at this time with Sir William Temple, at Sheen. Leicester, Leicefter. And for the friendship between us, as I fuppofe your's to be real, fo I think it would be proper to imagine mine, until you find any caufe to believe it pretended; though I might have fome quarrel at you in three or four lines, which are very ill bestowed in complimenting me. And as to that of my great profpects of making my fortune, on which as your kindness only looks on the beft fide, fo my own cold temper, and unconfined humour, is a much greater hindrance than any fear of that which is the fubject of your letter. I fhall fpeak plainly to you, that the very ordinary obfervations I made with going half a mile beyond the University, have taught me experience enough not to think of mar riage till I fettle my fortune in the world, which I am fure will not be in fome years; and even then itself, I am fo hard to please, that I suppose I fhall put it off to the other world. How all that fuits with my behaviour to the woman in hand, you may eafily imagine, when you know there is fomething in me which must be employed; and when I am alone turns all, for want of practice, into fpeculation and thought; infomuch, that these seven weeks I have been here, I have writ and burnt, and writ again upon all manner of fubjects, more than perhaps any man in England. And this is it which a person of great honour in Ireland (who was pleased to ftoop fo low as to look into my mind) used to tell me, that my mind was like a conjured fpirit, that would do mifchief if I would not give it employment. It is this humour that makes me fo bufy, when I am in company, to turn all that way; and fince it commonly ends in talk, whether it be love, or converfation, it is all alike. This is fo common, that I could remember twenty women in my life, to whom I have behaved myself just the fame way; and, I profefs, without any other defign than that of entertaining myself when I am very idle, or when fome R 4 thing |