me; and show some tenderness for me, or I shall lose my senses. Sure you cannot possibly be so much taken up, but you might command a moment to write to me, and force your inclinations to so great a charity. I firmly believe, if I could know your thoughts, (which no creature is capable of guessing at, because never any one living thought like you) I should find you had often, in a rage, wished me religious, hoping then I should have paid my devotions to Heaven: but that would not spare you; for were I an enthusiast, still you'd be the deity I should worship. What marks are there of a deity, but what you are to be known by? You are present every where; your dear image is always before my eyes. Sometimes you strike me with that prodigious awe, I tremble with fear: at other times a charming compassion shines through your countenance, which revives my soul. Is it not more reasonabie to adore a radiant form one has seen, than one only described?"
We may see from this epistle to what a romantick height her passion had arisen. Not the most enthusiastick strains from Eloisa to Abelard, could exceed those of Vanessa to Cadenus. Length of time, instead of diminishing, served only to increase the violence of her passion; and the general coldness of her lover, far from extinguishing the flame, made it blaze forth the more. It must be confessed indeed, that Swift's conduct toward her was far from being consistent. Whatever resolutions he had formed, to try by neglect and ill usage to put an end to that ardour of love, which caused him infinite uneasiness, yet he was seldom able to keep them when in her presence. Whether compassion for the sufferings of an un-
