The lover felt and acknowledged the great good sense and honourable
conduct of his mistress; and thus terminated a connection commenced under
no very auspicious omens, protracted till mutual esteem was succeeded by
the most perfect indifference, and which ever, during its continuance,
was interrupted by jars and bickerings, the unavoidable consequence of
inequality in temper, habits, and age; and presenting at no period, any
favourable prospect of an harmonious union.
The catastrophe of this young lady’s history was very melancholy. With
every talent and accomplishment necessary to adorn the most elevated
station, with every pretension of loveliness, grace, and manners, with a
fortune which, by prudent management, might have secured an honourable,
though not a splendid independence, her final exit was not very much
unlike that so beautifully recorded by Pope, of Villiers, Duke of
Buckingham.
She first of all impoverished herself, by the profuse liberality of
her presents to those to whom she was partial. She was subsequently
induced to lend, with the truest motives of generosity and friendship
on her part, a portion of her capital, on very insufficient security.
This she accordingly lost. There was an enthusiasm in her attachments
bordering on infatuation, and very indiscriminating in the choice of its
objects. Talent was her great idol, before which she bowed, but she often
neglected to examine and investigate the private character and conduct by
which it was accompanied. The consequence was, that she was perpetually
imposed upon, and did not discover her error till it was too late.
Her finances became finally so exceedingly narrowed and embarrassed,
that penury began to stare her in the face. Her friends, in some degree
to ward off this evil, suggested the expediency of her publishing two
volumes of her poems. This was accordingly done, under the inspection
of a most judicious, able, and compassionate friend, whose attentions
cheered and soothed the last sorrowful moments of her life. To him they
were inscribed, with a very appropriate address. The reader may not be
averse to see a specimen. _Ex uno disce omnia._
THE BOY AND THE BUTTERFLY.
Proud of its little day, enjoying
The lavish sweets kind Nature yields,
In harmless sports each hour employing,
Ranging the gardens, woods, and fields.
A lovely Butterfly extending
Its grateful wing to Sol’s warm beams,
No dreaded danger saw impending,
But basked secure in peaceful dreams.
A wandering Urchin viewed this treasure,
Of gaudy colours fine and gay,
Thoughtless consulting but his pleasure,
He chased it through the live-long day.
At last the young but sly dissembler
Appeared to follow other flies,
Then turning seized the little trembler,
Who crushed beneath his fingers dies!
Surprized he sees the hasty ruin
His reckless cruelty had wrought,
The victim which so long pursuing
Scarce raised a wish, or claimed a thought,
Now bid the tear of genuine sorrow
O’er his repentant bosom flow,
Yet he’ll forget it ere the morrow,
And deal to others equal woe.
Thus the vain man, with subtle feigning,
Pursues, o’ertakes, poor woman’s heart,
But soon his hapless prize disdaining,
She dies the victim of his art.
Her compositions were all of the same character and tendency—tender,
elegant, and tinged with the most romantic sensibility. Whether their
publication answered the proposed purpose to any effect, may reasonably
be questioned; for in her last illness, if she did not actually want the
necessaries incident to her situation, she had but a very scanty supply
of them.
After her death, when the kind friend above alluded to, undertook the
office of executor, and the superintendence of her funeral, barely
sufficient was got together, to have the last offices performed with due
decency.
She carried the preposterous enthusiasm of her misguided partialities
to the very last. All the valuable trinkets, rings, and jewels, which
she had inherited, had long since been given away, or otherwise disposed
of, one diamond ring excepted, which had for time immemorial remained
in her family. In drawing up her will, she had bequeathed this jewel to
a popular theatrical performer. Her executor having timely knowledge of
this, insisted upon its erasure, and positively declined having any thing
to do with her affairs, unless she bequeathed this ring to her sister.
She was prevailed upon, though reluctantly, to do so.
She died very prematurely, but she had been as negligent of her health,
as of her worldly affairs, and indulged in habits, than which nothing
could be more pernicious in themselves, or more injurious to her
constitution. Being occasionally subject to great depression of spirits,
and habitually a very bad sleeper, she indulged in the use of æther and
laudanum, to an excess that can hardly be credited; by which, and by
various other acts of similar imprudence, she doubtless much accelerated
her end.
Among her intimate friends were many of the most elevated rank, and she
was personally acquainted with all the females of her time, who were in
the least celebrated for their intellectual accomplishments. She was
the correspondent of Anna Seward, much acquainted with Mrs. Piozzi,
Helen Maria Williams, and others who have already been mentioned in this
narrative.
Be it permitted us to lament, yes, deeply to lament, that no friendly
pilot among those upon whom she had the claims of kindred and of blood,
stepped forward, in the progress of her little life, to steer her frail
vessel through the storms and perils of a treacherous world. She was
left, at a very early age, an orphan adventurer, to find her way, as best
she could, o’er unknown seas and regions, and many a pelting did she get
from divers pitiless storms.
Poor Ella! one tear at least is paid to thy memory, by an individual
who knew thy worth, admired thy talents, and loved thee with the truest
warmth of friendship.
Being so poetical herself, and so addicted to the society of those who
had the same disposition, volumes might perhaps be made of the poems
addressed to her. The following is selected, as particularly descriptive
of her character.
“Wit, beauty, goodness, sentiment refin’d,
The brightest genius, with the purest mind;
Quick nerves, to sympathy too nicely strung,
And sportive innocence for ever young;
Gay beaming smiles, and each still varying grace,
Accordant harmony of voice and face;
Sweet chat, that might despairing anguish soothe;
A soul all energy, a heart all truth;—
Give it but wings, ’tis angel, goddess, Elf;
Or add caprice and—ELLA—’tis thyself.”
Idem semper erit quoniam semper fuit idem.