Of Stella herself we naturally have no direct account in the Journal, but we hear a good deal of her life in Ireland, and can picture what she was.  Among her friends in and about Trim and Laracor were Dr. Raymond, the vicar of Trim, and his wife, the Garret Wesleys, the Percevals, and Mr. Warburton, Swift’s curate.  At Dublin there were Archdeacon Walls and his family; Alderman Stoyte, his wife and sister-in-law; Dean Sterne and the Irish Postmaster-General, Isaac Manley.  For years these friends formed a club which met in Dublin at each other’s houses, to sup and play cards ("ombre and claret, and toasted oranges"), and we have frequent allusions to Stella’s indifferent play, and the money which she lost, much to Mrs. Dingley’s chagrin:  “Poor Dingley fretted to see Stella lose that four and elevenpence t’other night.”  Mrs. Dingley herself could hardly play well enough to hold the cards while Stella went into the next room.  If at dinner the mutton was underdone, and “poor Stella cannot eat, poor dear rogue,” then “Dingley is so vexed.”  Swift was for ever urging Stella to walk and ride; she was “naturally a stout walker,” and “Dingley would do well enough if her petticoats were pinned up.”  And we see Stella setting out on and returning from her ride, with her riband and mask:  “Ah, that riding to Laracor gives me short sighs as well as you,” he says; “all the days I have passed here have been dirt to those.”

If the Journal shows us some of Swift’s less attractive qualities, it shows still more how great a store of humour, tenderness, and affection there was in him.  In these letters we see his very soul; in his literary work we are seldom moved to anything but admiration of his wit and genius.  Such daily outpourings could never have been written for publication, they were meant only for one who understood him perfectly; and everything that we know of Stella—­her kindliness, her wit, her vivacity, her loyalty—­shows that she was worthy of the confidence.

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JOURNAL TO STELLA

LETTER 1.[1]

Chester, Sept. 2, 1710.

Joe[2] will give you an account of me till I got into the boat; after which the rogues made a new bargain, and forced me to give them two crowns, and talked as if we should not be able to overtake any ship:  but in half an hour we got to the yacht; for the ships lay by [to] wait for my Lord Lieutenant’s steward.  We made our voyage in fifteen hours just.  Last night I came to this town, and shall leave it, I believe, on Monday.  The first man I met in Chester was Dr. Raymond.[3] He and Mrs. Raymond were here about levying a fine, in order to have power to sell their estate.  They have found everything answer very well.  They both desire to present their humble services to you:  they do not think of Ireland till next year.  I got a fall off my horse, riding here from Parkgate,[4]