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STELLA TO SWIFT.

The following verses were composed and sent by Stella— To Dr. Swift on his Birthday, November 30, 1721.

“St. Patrick's Dean, your country's pride,

My early and my only guide,

Let me among the rest attend,
Your pupil and your humble friend,
To celebrate in female strains

The day that paid your mother's pains;
Descend to take that tribute due

In gratitude alone to you.
When men began to call me fair,
You interpos'd your timely care;
You early taught me to despise
The ogling of a coxcomb's eyes;

Shew'd where my judgment was misplac'd;
Refin'd my fancy and my taste.
Behold that beauty just decay'd
Invoking art to Nature's aid;
Forsook by her admiring train
She spreads her tatter'd nets in vain ;
Short was her part upon the stage;
Went smoothly on for half a page;
Her bloom was gone, she wanted art,
As the scene chang'd, to change her part;
She, whom no lover could resist,
Before the second act was hiss'd.
Such is the fate of female race
With no endowments but a face!
Before the thirti'th year of life
A maid forlorn, or hated wife.
STELLA, to you, her tutor, owes
That she has ne'er resembled those;
Nor was a burden to mankind

With half her course of years behind.
You taught how I might youth prolong
By knowing what was right and wrong;
How from my heart to bring supplies
Of lustre to my fading eyes;
How soon a beauteous mind repairs
The loss of chang'd or falling hairs;
How wit and virtue from within

Send out a smoothness o'er the skin!
Your lectures cou'd my fancy fix,
And I can please at thirty-six !
The sight of Chloe at fifteen
Coquetting, gives me not the spleen,
The idol now of every fool

'Till time shall make their passions cool;

When tumbling down time's steepy hill,
While STELLA holds her station still.
Oh! turn your precepts into laws,
Redeem the women's ruin'd cause,
Retrieve lost empire to her sex,
That men may bow their rebel necks.
Long be the day that gave you birth
Sacred to friendship, wit, and mirth;
Late dying may you cast a shred
Of your rich mantle o'er my head;
To bear with dignity my sorrow,
One day alone, then die to-morrow l

SWIFT'S ATTACHMENT TO THE EARL OF OXFORD.

How dearly the Dean loved Oxford, in whom were many qualities deserving of such attachment, appears from a thousand expressions in his letters and journal. The despair which he expresses at his being wounded by Guiscard is like that of a brother mourning for a brother. Swift retained to his dying day, as a sacred relic, the penknife with which the wound was inflicted; and it would seem, that, on one occasion, he secured his friend's life from a dangerous attempt of the same kind, at the hazard of his own. Lady Masham, by whose secret influence Oxford had been displaced, wrote to conjure by his charity and compassion for the Queen, not to desert her cause at this crisis; and Barber was commissioned by Bolingbroke to inform Swift that he would reconcile him with the Duchess of Somerset. These flattering proposals seemed to open a prospect full upon the path of honour, ambition, and preferment. But almost the next post brought a letter from Lord Oxford, now dismissed and going alone to his seat in Herefordshire, requesting Swift to accompany him. His gratitude and his affection for Lord Oxford did not allow him to hesitate a moment in accepting the invitation of the disgraced minister, and he wrote immediately to Ireland to get an extension of his leave of absence, which was now nearly expired, to enable him to do so. "I meddle not with his faults, as he was a minister of state," are his manly expres"but you know his personal kindness to me was exceshe distinguished and chose me above all men when he was great; and his letter to me the other day was the most moving imaginable."

sions;

sive;

Within three days the death of Queen Anne and the accession of George I. put an end to the power of the Tories. Lord

Oxford was arrested and imprisoned, and Swift wrote to him with a touching earnestness to request that he might be permitted to attend him in his confinement. Lord Oxford however refused to accede to his request. Bolingbroke and Ormond fled to France, and Swift returned to Ireland.

Harley, who, though he maintained the most friendly and confidential intercourse with Swift, seems not at first to have properly appreciated his character, or understood his views, sent him a note for 501., which Swift indignantly returned, and obstinately refused his invitation till he had made an apology. It was in this hour of trial that Arbuthnot used the memorable expressions: "Dean Swift keeps up his noble spirit, and, though like a man knocked down, you may behold him still with a stern countenance, and aiming a blow at his adversaries."

:-

DRAPIER'S LETTERS.

In 1723, there being a scarcity of copper coin in Ireland, George I. granted to William Wood a patent right to coin farthings and halfpence to the amount of 108,000l. The grant was made without consulting the lord-lieutenant or privy council of Ireland: it had been obtained by the influence of the Duchess of Kendal, the king's mistress, who was to have a share of the profits. The Irish parliament remonstrated, of which no notice was taken, when a voice was heard which apparently arose from one of the trading classes: a letter was published signed " M. B., drapier [draper], Dublin," and was followed by five or six more. The effect of these letters is known. All Ireland was roused. No one would touch the contaminated coin. A reward of 3007. was offered for the discovery of the author of the Drapier's fourth letter. A bill against the printer was about to be presented to the grand jury, when the Dean addressed to them "Some seasonable Advice;" and the memorable quotation from Scripture was circulated, "And the people said unto Saul, Shall Jonathan die, who hath wrought this great salvation in Israel? God forbid: as the Lord liveth, there shall not one hair of his head fall to the ground; for he hath wrought with God this day. So the people rescued Jonathan that he died not." The grand jury wrote "ignoramus" on the bill, and Judge Whitshed could only vent his rage by dismissing them. Ultimately the patent was withdrawn, and Wood was compensated by a grant

of 30007. yearly for twelve years. Thus victoriously terminated the first grand struggle for the independence of Ireland. Some interesting traits of Swift's presence of mind on this occasion are related. He went to the levee of the lord-lieutenant, burst through the circle with which he was surrounded, and, in a firm and stern voice, demanded of Lord Carteret the meaning of these severities against a poor industrious tradesman, who had published two or three papers designed for the good of his country. Carteret, to whom Swift was personally well known, and who could have no doubt of his being the author of the Drapier's Letters, evaded the expostulation by an apt and elegant quotation from Virgil:—

"Res dura, et regni novitas, me talia cogunt

Moliri.".

The courtly circle, astounded at the daring conduct of Swift, were delighted and reassured by the lord-lieutenant's presence of mind and urbanity.

A servant, named Robert Blakeley, whom the Dean intrusted to copy out and convey to the press the Drapier's Letters, chanced one evening to absent himself without leave. His master charged him with treachery, and, upon his exculpation, insisted that at least he neglected his duties as a servant, because he conceived his master was in his power. "Strip your livery," he commanded, "begone from the Deanery instantly, and do the worst to revenge yourself that you dare do." The man retired, more grieved that his master doubted his fidelity, than moved by this harsh treatment. He was replaced at the intercession of Stella; and Swift afterwards rewarded his fidelity, by the office of verger in the cathedral of St. Patrick's. It is also related that while Harding, the printer, was in jail, Swift actually visited him in the disguise of an Irish country clown, or spalpeen. Some of the printer's family or friends, who chanced to visit him at the same time, were urging him to earn his own release, by informing against the author of the Drapier's Letters. Harding replied steadily, that he would rather perish in jail before he would be guilty of such treachery and baseness. All this passed in Swift's presence, who sat beside them in silence, and heard, with apparent indifference, a discussion which might be said to involve bis ruin. He came and departed without being known to any one but Harding.

THE DEAN VERY POPULAR.

The Drapier's head became a sign, his portrait was engraved, woven upon handkerchiefs, struck upon medals, and displayed in every possible manner, as the liberator of Ireland. A club was formed in honour of the patriot, who held regular meetings to commemorate his excellences, study his doctrines, and carouse to his health. To the honour of the warmhearted and generous people for whom he exposed his safety, the sun of Swift's popularity shone unclouded even after he was incapable of distinguishing its radiance. While he was able to go abroad, a thousand popular benedictions attended his steps, and if he visited a town where he was not usually resident, his reception resembled that of a sovereign prince. The slightest idea of personal danger to THE DEAN, for by that title he was generally distinguished, aroused a whole district in his defence; and when, on one occasion, Walpole meditated his arrest, his proposal was checked by a prudent friend, who inquired if he could spare ten thousand soldiers to guard the messenger who should execute so perilous a commission.

At the lord mayor's entertainment, the archbishop publicly charged Swift with having inflamed the prejudices of the people against him. "I inflame them!" retorted Swift, conscious of his power among the lower orders, "had I lifted my finger, they would have torn you to pieces," -a threat which he afterwards expressed in poetry.

One of the latest, as well as the most eloquent panegyrics which have decorated his monument, occurs in A Sketch of the State of Ireland, 1810, and is a just and concise character of the Dean of St. Patrick's, viewed as an Irish patriot:

"On this gloom one luminary rose, and Ireland worshipped it with Persian idolatry; her true patriot—her first, almost her last. Sagacious and intrepid-he saw, he dared; above suspicion, he was trusted; above envy, he was beloved; above rivalry, he was obeyed. His wisdom was practical and prophetic-remedial for the present, warning for the future; he first taught Ireland that she might become a nation, and England that she must cease to be a despot. But he was a churchman. His gown impeded his course, and entangled his efforts,-guiding a senate, or heading an army, he had been more than Cromwell, and Ireland not less than England. As it was, he saved her by his courageimproved her by his authority-adorned her by his talents-and exalted her by his fame. His mission was but of ten years; and for ten years only did his personal power mitigate the government; but though no longer feared by the great, he was not forgotten by the wise; his influence, like his writings, has survived a century; and the foundations

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