fection for her daily increased, during a long habitude of intercourse with one of the most charming companions in the world, perfectly suited in all points to his taste and humour, yet had it no mixture in it of the passion of love, but was rather the tenderness of a parent to a favourite child: His conduct might have made him styl❜d, That innocent delight he took For the truth of this he appeals to Stella herself in one of his poems addressed to her: Thou, Stella, wert no longer young, Nor was there any thing uncommon in this. We find that even among young people bred up together from childhood, the passion of love seldom appears; and much less likely is it to take place where there is such a disparity of years. It has been already shown what punctilious caution he took to prevent any appearance of that sort, by never conversing with her but in the presence of a third person, which was usually her companion Mrs. Dingley. But not long after her settlement in Ireland, he gave the most unequivocal proof of what his sentiments were with regard to her on that point. It was impossible that so charming an object should long remain without inspiring some of her beholders with love. Accordingly an intimate friend of Swift's, of the name of Tisdal, not undistinguished for learning and wit, was so captivated with the beauties both of her person and mind, that he paid his addresses to her, and made proposals of marriage. The account of this transaction, and the part that Swift bore in it, is set forth at large in the following letter written by him to Tisdal on that subject: Dr. SWIFT to Mr. TISDAL. 66 London, April 20, 1704. "YESTERDAY coming from the country I found your letter, which had been four or five days arrived, and by neglect was not forwarded as it ought. "You have got three epithets for my former letter, " which I believe are all unjust: you say it was unfriendly, unkind, and unaccountable. The two "first, I suppose, may pass but for one, saving (as capt. Fluellin says) the phrase is a little variations. I "shall therefore answer those two as I can; and for the "last, I return it to you again by these presents, assur ing you, that there is more unaccountability in your "letter's little finger, than in mine's whole body. And one strain I observe in it, which is frequent enough; you talk in a mystical sort of a way, as if you would "have me believe I had some great design, and that you had found it out: your phrases are, that my let"ter had the effect you judge I designed; that you are ❝ amazed to reflect on what you judge the cause of it; " and wish it may be in your power to love and value me while you live, &c. In answer to all this, I might " with good pretence enough talk starchly, and affect ignorance of what you would be at; but my conjecture is, that you think I obstructed your inclina"tions to please my own, and that my intentions were "the same with yours. In answer to all which, I "will upon my conscience and honour tell you the "naked truth. First, I think I have said to you be66 fore, that if my fortunes and humour served me to "think of that state, I should certainly, among all per"sons on earth, make your choice; because I never "saw that person whose conversation I entirely valued "but hers; this was the utmost I ever gave way to. And, secondly, I must assure you sincerely, that "this regard of mine never once entered to be an impediment to you; but I judged it would, perhaps, "be a clog to your rising in the world; and I did not 66 conceive you were then rich enough to make your"self and her happy and easy. But that objection is "now quite removed by what you have at present; "and by the assurances of Eaton's livings. I told you "indeed, that your authority was not sufficient to "make overtures to the mother, without the daugh"ter's giving me leave under her own or her friend's "hand, which, I think, was a right and a prudent step. "However, I told the mother immediately, and spoke "with all the advantages you deserve. But the ob "jection of your fortune being removed, I declare I "have no other; nor shall any consideration of my "own misfortune, in losing so good a friend and com"panion as her, prevail on me against her interest and "settlement in the world, since it is held so necessary and convenient a thing for ladies to marry; and "that time takes off from the lustre of virgins in all "other eyes but mine. I appeal to my letters to her "self, 66 "self, whether I was your friend or not in the whole concern; though the part I designed to act in it was purely passive, which is the utmost I will ever do in things of this nature, to avoid all reproach of any ill consequence that may ensue in the variety of worldly accidents. Nay I went so far both to her mo“ther, herself, and, I think, to you, as to say it could "not be decently broken; since I supposed the town "had got it in their tongues, and therefore I thought "it could not miscarry without some disadvantage "to the lady's credit. I have always described her to you in a manner different from those who would be 66 discouraging; and must add, that though it hath "come in my way to converse with persons of the "first rank, and of that sex, more than is usual to men of my level, and of our function; yet I have "no where met with a humour, a wit, or conversation "so agreeable, a better portion of good sense, or a "truer judgment of men and things, I mean here in England; for as to the ladies of Ireland, I am a perfect stranger. As to her fortune, I think you "know it already; and, if you resume your designs, "and would have farther intelligence, I shall send 66 you a particular account. "I give you joy of your good fortunes, and envy very much your prudence and temper, and love of "peace and settlement, the reverse of which hath "been the great uneasiness of my life, and is likely "to continue so. And what is the result? En queï's "consevimus agros! I find nothing but the good words " and wishes of a decayed ministry, whose lives and "mine will probably wear out before they can serve "either my little hopes, or their own ambition. "Therefore I am resolved suddenly to retire, like a VOL. I. X "discon "discontented courtier, and vent myself in study "and speculation, till my own humour, or the scene "here, shall change." 66 66 I have here inserted the whole of this letter, both as it contains a candid display of Swift's sentiments on this occasion, and is a strong confutation of the account given of it by his relation Deane Swift, in his Essay, &c. part of which I shall here transcribe, where speaking of Mr. Tisdal he says-" This gen"tleman declared his passion, and made her proposals "of marriage. Now whether it was artifice in Mrs. Johnson to rouse affections in the adamantine heart "of her admired object; or whether it was a reach of policy in Dr. Swift, to acquaint Mrs. Johnson by "such indirect means that he had no intention of engaging himself in a married life; or whether in truth "there was any kind of artifice used on either side, I protest I am wholly a stranger, &c.-Mrs. Johnson "discovered no repugnancy to the match, but still she "would be advised by doctor Swift. The doctor, perhaps, loth to be separated from so delightful a "companion, threw an obstacle in the way that was "not to be surmounted. This gentleman had a be"nefice in the church of a considerable value, about "a hundred miles from Dublin, which required his "attendance. Dr. Swift, in order to bring matters "to a final issue, made him an overture that he should "settle upon his wife a hundred pounds a year pinmoney. The lover indeed, although extremely "captivated with the charms of his mistress, was by 66 for no means delighted with this proposal; he desired "however that he might have a night's time to con"sider of it; and the next morning, contrary to ex"pectation, he agreed to the terms. Swift, never at a « loss |