better than those killing, killing words of yours.
Sometimes I have resolved to die without seeing you more;, but those
resolves, to your misfortune, did not last long; for there is
something in human nature that prompts one so to find relief in this
world I must give way to it, and beg you would see me, and speak
kindly to me; for I am sure you'd not condemn any one to suffer what
I have done, could you but know it. The reason I write to you is,
because I cannot tell it to you, should I see you; for when I begin
to complain, then you are angry, and there is something in your
looks so awful that it strikes me dumb. Oh! that you may have but so
much regard for me left that this complaint may touch your soul with
pity. I say as little as ever I can; did you but know what I
thought, I am sure it would move you to forgive me; and believe I
cannot help telling you this and live."--VANESSA. (M. 1714.)

55 "If we consider Swift's behaviour, so far only as it relates to
women, we shall find that he looked upon them rather as busts than
as whole figures."--ORRERY.

"You must have smiled to have found his house a constant seraglio of
very virtuous women, who attended him from morning to
night."--ORRERY.

A correspondent of Sir Walter Scott's furnished him with the
materials on which to found the following interesting passage about
Vanessa--after she had retired to cherish her passion in retreat:--

"Marley Abbey, near Celbridge, where Miss Vanhomrigh resided, is
built much in the form of a real cloister, especially in its
external appearance. An aged man (upwards of ninety, by his own
account), showed the grounds to my correspondent. He was the son of
Mrs. Vanhomrigh's gardener, and used to work with his father in the
garden while a boy. He remembered the unfortunate Vanessa well; and
his account of her corresponded with the usual description of her
person, especially as to her _embonpoint_. He said she went seldom
abroad, and saw little company; her constant amusement was reading,
or walking in the garden.... She avoided company, and was always
melancholy, save when Dean Swift was there, and then she seemed
happy. The garden was to an uncommon degree crowded with laurels.
The old man said that when Miss Vanhomrigh expected