ho loved
him. "Stay," he writes one morning--it is the 14th of December, 1710--"stay,
I will answer some of your letter this morning in bed--let me see. Come and
appear, little letter! Here I am, says he, and what say you to Stella this
morning fresh and fasting? And can Stella read this writing without
hurting her dear eyes?" he goes on, after more kind prattle and fond
whispering. The dear eyes shine clearly upon him then--the good angel of
his life is with him and blessing him. Ah, it was a hard fate that wrung
from them so many tears, and stabbed pitilessly that pure and tender
bosom. A hard fate: but would she have changed it? I have heard a woman
say that she would have taken Swift's cruelty to have had his tenderness.
He had a sort of worship for her whilst he wounded her. He speaks of her
after she is gone; of her wit, of her kindness, of her grace, of her
beauty, with a simple love and reverence that are indescribably touching;
in contemplation of her goodness his hard heart melts into pathos; his
cold rhyme kindles and glows into poetry, and he falls down on his knees,
so to speak, before the angel, whose life he had embittered, confesses his
own wretchedness and unworthiness, and adores her with cries of remorse
and love:--

When on my sickly couch I lay,
Impatient both of night and day,
And groaning in unmanly strains,
Called every power to ease my pains,
Then Stella ran to my relief,
With cheerful face and inward grief,
And though by Heaven's severe decree
She suffers hourly more than me,
No cruel master could require
From slaves employed for daily hire,
What Stella, by her friendship warmed,
With vigour and delight performed.
Now, with a soft and silent tread,
Unheard she moves about my bed:
My sinking spirits now supplies
With cordials in her hands and eyes.
Best patron of true friends! beware;
You pay too dearly for your care
If, while your tenderness secures
My life, it must endanger yours:
For such a fool was never found
Who pulled a palace to the ground,
Only to have the ruins made
Materials for a house decayed.

One little triumph Stella had in her life--one dear little piece of
injustice was performed in her favour, for which I confess, for my part, I
can't help thanking fate and the Dean. _That other person_ was sacrificed
to her--that--that young woman, who lived five doors from Dr. Swift