Ella.
This lady was first known to the Sexagenarian, and obtained a place in his Recollections, by one of those singular accidents, which sometimes bring individuals together, who, entering the world at the opposite ends of the diameter, with different objects, pursuits, and employments, have but little seeming probability of ever meeting at the centre. Ella was extravagantly fond of poetry; it occupied all her thoughts, and was seated in her very soul. Among other trifles which our friend had written for amusement, and which had found their way into the world, a poem, which had received more of his time and attention than he usually gave to such things, (for he did not estimate his talents in this line very highly) was sent to a friend, who happened at this period to be resident under the same roof with Ella.
It mightily struck her fancy, and she determined on obtaining the author’s acquaintance. Her mind was of that eager and ardent temperature, that having once resolved on any measure, she spared no time or pains in accomplishing it. She accordingly sent him by the post, a copy of verses, complimenting him on the late production of his muse, in terms like herself, easy, airy, and elegant. The writer was soon discovered, (or as Pope said of Johnson, deterré) and a familiar acquaintance commenced, which was only terminated by death.
If Ella’s mind and talents had been under the regulation of sedate feelings and sober judgment, she would have been one of the most delightful and interesting creatures in the universe; but unfortunately for her, she was in every thing an enthusiast. She obeyed, without reflection, the first impulse of her mind. She read whatever excited public attention and curiosity, but she read to little or no effect; she impatiently hurried over the volumes before her, that she might begin something else: the consequence unavoidably was, that in a very short interval, she retained no recollection of the principal features, facts, and characters, of the books she had recently perused.
She also wrote a great deal, and some specimens of her poetical taste and talent are really very beautiful; but she wrote with extreme haste, and revised nothing. She was particularly solicitous, and not always with sufficient discrimination, to have a personal acquaintance with those of both sexes, who were distinguished in the world by their reputation for talents. Unhappily for her, there was no moderation in her attachments, from which she frequently became the victim of artifice and fraud. Perfectly artless and unsuspicious herself, she thought that intellectual superiority necessarily involved ingenuousness, honesty, and truth; nor was she cured of this infirmity, till her fortunes had been irretrievably impaired. Her liberality knew no bounds, and she literally gave, till no more remained for her to bestow.
Her captivating manners, her high birth, her connections, her talents, necessarily drew a crowd of young men about her, for many of whom, in their turns, she suffered love; but the flame was transitory in its effects, nor did she ever seriously entangle herself in an engagement which had marriage for its object, except with one individual, as unlike herself, in every possible particular, as the imagination can conceive.
Her playfulness and most bewitching familiarity often, however, were the cause of her entangling others. Some might be named, who, though grave, reserved, and dignified personages, were unable to resist the fascination of her charms and manners, and glided into her net with the easiest captivity imaginable.
There was one very singular character, whom accident threw in her way, wild, romantic, and ingenious like herself. Both were devoted to the love of poetry, and they wrote fine things to one another, till a great intimacy took place, and the gentleman, who was also an enthusiast in all things, worshipped her as his idol.
The life of this man would of itself make an entertaining volume; a short digression upon it therefore may be excused. He was almost the next descendant from one of the most extraordinary men of talent and genius that this kingdom ever knew, and apparently inherited many of his progenitor’s eccentricities. A young man of one of the noblest families in the kingdom, and immediate heir to a dukedom, conceiving himself aggrieved by an illustrious personage, of rank higher than his own, sent him a challenge, and a duel was the consequence. In the rencontre, the individual challenged, had a very narrow escape, the ball having grazed his cheek.
The affair necessarily engrossed a considerable share of public conversation, and among other things of which it was the cause, our gentleman thought proper to publish a most bitter and exasperating pamphlet against the young nobleman who had sent the challenge.
The consequence was what might naturally be expected. Col. L. first enquired whether the author was, from his station in life, worthy of his resentment. On finding that he was a gentleman, a duel ensued, in which the Quixotic advocate of Royalty, was shot through the body, but astonished even his adversary by the courage and firmness with which he conducted himself. What his motive was, can hardly be imagined; but as his circumstances were but moderate, he not improbably conceived, that he might be rewarded with patronage and preferment. This, however, was not the case, though it must be acknowledged that the illustrious Personage, whose advocate he had so rashly been, once sent him compliments of enquiry and condolence.
He was certainly a man of considerable talents, and particularly in poetry. He published many things, which were well received, and he left a great deal more behind him.
The following extract from an unpublished poem, called a Hymn to Venus, occurs in our manuscript, and justifies what has been said of the author’s abilities.
“The various world thy various powers delight,
Thy star precedes the morn, and gilds the night;
Thee, when Aurora’s fingers paint the day,
In the pure blush of morning we survey;
Or throned with Phœbus as he sets in gold,
Thy warmer glories in the West behold;
Night’s radiant orbs in love and beauty roll,
Love rules the sky, and Beauty lights the whole.
What space contains, what ample air provides,
What earth unbosoms, or what ocean hides,
Thy power proclaims; each zephyr of the Spring,
That fans the season with his purple wing,
To Love belongs. Then each delightful bower
Thy presence feels, confessing Beauty’s power,
And blossoms into joy; the plumy throng,
Beauty’s glad season welcome with their song,
As instinct governs they select their loves,
’Twas Love thy sparrows paired, and yoked thy doves.”
The conclusion is yet better.
Hail Beauty, Nature, or whate’er thy name,
Fair seed of Jove, immortal and the same,
Informing soul, pure spirit unconfined,
Pervading law, of matter and of mind,
Eternal Truth! whose universal light
Directs to happiness, and points the right!—
To thee our vows we pay; to thee belong
The hymn of praise and honorary song,
Source of each wish, each pleasure, and each hope,
Till kinder suns the rose of Passion ope;
A rose without a thorn, that buds and blows,
And takes the name of friendship as it grows;
Virtue’s own zephyrs on her bosom play,
An heaven-born flower, unconscious of decay.
Then whether in Cythera’s suns you rove,
Or seek the coolness of the Cyprian grove,
Or Paphos choose, or wander with thy maids
Where all Idalia opens all her shades,
Chaste goddess come! and to our isle retire,
Where Love at Hymen’s altars lights his fire;
Where Virtue guards, and Beauty lifts her throne,
Diana’s crescent with the Cyprian zone;
Oh still on Britain goddess bend thy smiles,
The Queen of Empire as the Queen of Isles,
That takes like thee from silver seas her birth,
To rule with equal power, and bless the earth.
Britain for beauty as for arms renown’d,
Victorious Mars by conquering Beauty crown’d;
To Britain then thy gracious aid extend,
And War’s own god shall Beauty’s cause defend.
It is impossible to close our account of this most singular personage, without giving another example of his waywardness and eccentricity. There was a wretched creature who molested the streets of London, barbarously insulting and wounding the females that he met, upon whom the appellation of Monster was therefore bestowed, as it were, by common consent. On his apprehension and trial, this gentleman thought proper to throw down the gauntlet as his advocate; not indeed his advocate with regard to his crimes, but a sort of legal advocate, pointing out the subterfuges of which he might avail himself. It was, however, like his insane duel, ineffectual in its consequences; it neither sheltered the defendant from universal indignation and contempt, nor tended to diminish the severity of his punishment.
After various vicissitudes, this unaccountable man returned to Ireland, where he was involved in a great number of perplexities, animosities, and litigations, and died at no very advanced age.
Durius in terris nihil est quod vivat amante
Nec modo si sapias quod minus esse velis.