V-^, HF^. LI E. RAR.Y OF THE UN IVERSITY or ILLINOIS 823 v.l The person charging this material is re- sponsible for Its return to the library from which It was withdrawn on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from the University. To renew call Telephone Center, 333-8400 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN L161— O-1096 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/ardenttaleofwind01wilm ARDENT: A TALE OF WINDSOR FOREST, IN TIIK JJinetfcntf) Ccntun). DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF HIS MOST GRACIOUS MAJKSTV, GEORGE THE FOURTH. IN FOUR VOLUMES. " The great business of all is viriuo and wisdom." Page 306 of Loclii\-' \U/i Edilion mi Educati VOL. I LONDON: IH liLlSHKD BY CHAPPEL, PALL MALL; MORETON, WINDSOR; AND INOALTON AND SON, ETON. 1832. London : Printed by G. H. Davidgon, Ireland Yard, Blackfriars. DEDICATION ^ MEMORY OF HIS LATE MOST GRACIOUS 2 MAJESTY, CSeorge tj&e d^ourtg* V The high honour and respect in which I held -v** the person and character of his late Majesty will, ^ I hope, plead my apology for presuming to dedi- ""^ cate this work to his memory ; who, when a ma- V gistrate and a public parent, extended his bene- ^ ficence not to the amelioration of the condition of individuals alone, but of communities and nations ^who were very properly designated his subjects; .;;;and who, in common with his dedicator, then *<- ■r offered up petitions to the Almighty for his long ^ continuance on earth, that he might have extended VOL. I. B Z DEDICATION. his fostering care and protection over his adopted children, and as their father preserved to them those rights which give Hberty to the subject, as well as security to the throne and that of his illustrious house. Saying thus much, I express only a small por- tion of that respect in which his late Majesty was held by all ranks of people. Distant nations bowed with respect to his august character, power, and virtues ; in him was combined the wisdom of the individual with those of the mo- narch ; by protecting letters he added splendour to his reign, and transmitted to posterity England's Augustan age — may it be perpetual ! By patronising the arts and sciences, he esta- blished in the mind of every man of reflection, both at home and abroad, the impression of the liberality of his judgment, that discerned the stu- pendous height to which human intellect aspired, and, by the choice selection of its powers, per- fects that magnificent monument of his fame, and the peaceful part of his reign, w^hich will contri- DEDICATION. 6 bute to his future glory, and to the honour, interest, and welfare of the British nation. I allude to that monumental pile known by the proud and imposing name of the Castle of Wind- sor. At the mention thereof now and ever will be associated in the breast of every Englishman that deep feeling of respect for the great genius of their predecessors, who have assisted to perpe- tuate it to the present time. It is now that this grand edifice assumes a new era, rising with proportioned grandeur to the imposing character with which the British name is associated, in alliance with all the worlds not waging war against " a world in arms," but proudly pre-eminent as the mediator and moderator of all Europe,— nay, of the whole known world. It was by cultivating the arts of peace and giving employment to millions, the British nation aggrandized itself and became the vast emporium of universal genius ; honest ingenuity met with encouragement in times of peace, each man followed his own pursuits and the peculiar bent b2 4 DEDICATION. and structure of his own mind, guided by the soft persuasive arguments of reason and common sense. As I have frequently rode through the royal domains, or what is called the Forest of Windsor, various associations have then arisen in my ro- mantic mind; for no man who has the least powers of discernment but must feel and think unutterable things, easily to be conceived but not expressed in an embodied form. The mind became wild as the wilderness on which it looked ; it was whirled as it were on high, like the leaves from the majestic oak; it ascended the hills, then down to the vales beneath, again over proud Caesar's Camp and Watch-Tower, took a mental view of many distant entrenchments, splendid tents, and embattled plains. The creative fancy saw the phalanx drawn up as in battle array, army against army. The native British, by valour armed and of giant mould, opposed their bosoms, bare of shield or cuirass, bill adorned with the plumage of the wild fowl. DEDICATION. 5 and thus assault the unequal foe with clubs, stakes, limbs of trees, javelins, and arrows, which pierced into many a Roman's heart ; the heroic efforts were vain, the event proved the British unequally matched. As I advanced nearer to Windsor's lofty heights and rode through the parks attached to this magnificent castle, I in fancy beheld the con- queror, William, proud of his Norman blood, give directions for the elevation of the structure, which derives its name from the venerable father Thames, whose winding shores have given the name of Windsor, while the ancient village, to show its priority of claim, even coeval with the Saxon Heptarchy, lies primevally low, and famed but for its Runnymede, to which the Magna Charta of British liberty gives a glorious me- mory. To the north of the castle is the luxuriant champaign country, fertile as the valleys of Italy, Jehosaphat, or Judea, teeming with corn-fields and pasturage, bedecked with wild flowers, which 6 DEDICATION. grace the meadows' winding banks, among which the Thames is seen proudly rolling its silver waves at the foot of the castle ; in many and fantastic meanderings it descends from the hills of interior counties, until in grand subhmity it unites itself with the ocean, the thoroughfare of the busy world. To the east are gardens designed with the greatest elegance, adorned with statues of the heathen deities, among whom are Venus and her Graces, the Muses with their attributes, also Diana, Pomona, and Ceres, with Mars, Minerva, Apollo, Pan and his Fauns, and other inferior t^ods and oroddesses. To behold them thus assem- bled presents to the imagination the classic grounds of Greece and Rome, with their antique vases, marble fonts, and other emblems of peculiarly refined and by-gone ages, worthy of a Pericles in Athens, a Pliny, a Cicero, a LucuUus, or a Pom- pey, in ancient Rome. To such a spot as this Caesar should have resorted as conqueror of the then known terrestrial globe. DEDICATION. 7 In modern times Mahmoud, Sultan of Asia's scorching plains, would envy such a retreat for his far-famed Circassian and Georgian beauties, where now the British fair, in the pride of splen- dour, virtue, and conscious innocence, walks triumphant, as the unrivalled divinities of these blissful regions. To the south are the sylvan parks or bowers of Arcadian beauty, where fair ladies protect their divine perfections from the sultry heat of the noon- day sun ; and while scorching scintillations dance on the hills and heathy plains, refreshing gales murmur through the valleys, fanned from the wings of sportive zephyrs, which play amidst trees of the most embowering foliage. Such were the favoured and favourite retreats of majesty, grand and sublime, terrible and yet harmonious, beautiful and serene, partaking alike of regal splendour and the simplicity of the pas- toral ages, when man lived within the umbrageous dwelHngs of the woods, and the forest yielded him fuel, sustenance, and a home. » DEDICATION. Other associations remain to be portrayed of thy castle, Windsor, what has not been related of tb}"^ famed walls, corbold towers, and battle- ments, of thy interior structures, as the Round Tower, or the Castle's Keep, in which have been retained as prisoners of state the royal blood of France, as well as that of Scotland. History relates the courtesy of the third Ed- ward and of the Black Prince, both great cha- racters, also George the Third and Fourth, who, in peace and war, for grandeur of design and execution, have not been surpassed. The renovated walls of the castle, renewed under their direction (powerfully and ably assisted by that ingenious and highly-talented architect. Sir JefFery Wyatville, whose name will be transmitted down to the latest posterity), derive an additional magnificence for solidity and duration, surpassing the original conception in the times of the Conqueror. In the Round Tower is contained the armour of some of England's proudest warriors, or the DEDICATION. \) panoply of the days of the olden time, when out Henrys and our Edwards fought the battles of Cressy, Agincourtj and Poictiers, those hard- contested fields of British valour, which nowj after ages past and by-gone time, stimulates the British youth to deeds of martial glory, and makes each bosom glow with the bare recital of the famous actions of those warriors, that rival the deeds of Marathon, Thermopylae, and Plataea. When I take a nearer view of the ponderous walls, massive gates, portcullis, and battalia, for defensive warfare, my mind naturally rises with proud pre-eminence, and my heart expands with patriotic enthusiasm. In fancy I hear the drum beat to arms, the report of musketry, and the cannons roar, with all the bustle of military move- ments, as trumpet clangour, the clash of arms, while spears are glittering, bayonets flashing, and colours flying, the vivid sunbeams brightening the splendour of the day, and reflected back by the massive walls of the castle. It is in such dreams of ardour and enthusiasm b5 10 DEDICATION. I have fancied myself one of the defenders of the castle gates, against all assailants, where to assail would seem to be a sure presage of eternity. The court-yard was formerly the scene of many a festive f^te and tournament for ladies' love, and for appeal to the prowess of arms as a tribute due to justice in the decision of dire disputes among the nobles of the land ; the gauntlet was then thrown in proud disdain, and accepted with equal ardour by the challenged, until from their opposing efforts one has been the victor, when pardon or banishment followed, whichsoever was the sovereign's decree. For more auspicious moments and happier scenes the stately banqueting-hall was not forgot, the conciliator of unhappy differences and the source of jovial merriment, where subjects met subjects in the presence of their prince, and unanimity presided at the festive board ; when England's sons were no longer rent in twain by opposing principles, bearing the names of York and Lancaster: but now each yields a name to DEDICATION. 11 those massive towers whose ponderous gates give entrance to the castle-yard, and front the vene- rable forest. Soft music has its appropriate saloon to gladden the heart of the monarch and inspire the tender sentiments of love, or, by the martial vigour of its sonorous sounds and brazen cymbals, causes the mind of the warrior to bound with the memory of valorous exploits and glory. For purposes of state, see St. George's Hall, named from the tutelary patron of England, in which is celebrated the noble order of the garter, an intimation that by ladies' courtesy is preserved that union which forms the bond of England's greatness ; England united is the strongest for- tress in the known world, impregnable and never to be subdued. The inner and more domestic apartments of the castle impress the mind of the beholder with the grandeur of the late and present monarch ; and, as the happy presages of succeeding times, view its corridors inlaid with gold, its marble 12 DEDICATION. baths, its music and festive rooms, the bed- chambers, the gold and silver canopies of state, and, to surpass all, the throne ; see the ascend- ing steps and chair of state, view the cushion made of the eider's downy plumes, on which was seated his sacred Majesty, George the Fourth. His nobles, in succession, might have bent the knee to receive the rewards of merit for battles won on Waterloo's bloody and hard-contested plain, where victory was gained after three days' successive conflict, amidst the tremendous roar of thundering cannon and the clash of mighty swords and bayonets, against armour of the brightest steel, worn by the French cuirassiers, who were animated onward to the slaughter by Napoleon's powerful will, the Ex-emperor of France; under whose control the kings of the continents had bent their necks as submissive to the yoke which chained them to his chariot wheels, and, hke other Hectors, were whirled round the globe; their fleets joined his, their armies did the same, their gold and silver gUstened within DEDICATION. 18 his tent ; in the cabinet and in the field they were in submission, as Parthians in ancient times when they graced the Roman triumphs. Not so with England: England repelled the trampler upon nation's rights, and warned him from her shores, and finally subdued him in a well-fought and bloody contest of slaughtered victims, contending to uphold and perpetuate his merciless ambition ; but since their putrid car- casses tainted the desert air, and bleached with their bones the ground they had trod on, in masses, phalanx deep, of both horse and foot. Myriads were trained to havoc, like dogs of war and carnage, seeking their opposers' blood. But at length the emperor of mighty nations fled, and dreadful was the slaughter ; in token of submission, he a second time abdicated the throne of France, and the Bourbon again ascended the vacant seat of his decapitated ancestor, who died on the scaf- fold by the sharpened guillotine. England, in her greatness, respects humanity- extended the law of nations to the prostrate foe, 14 DEDICATION. no longer formidable but in name, and that name reverberated round the world as a mockery and a jest of his former greatness ; he was as an eagle chained to a rock in the Pacific Ocean, called St. Helena ; he there lamented his fate that he could do no further wrong, nor outrage heaven's decree on the sons of men. Wellington, assisted by British legions, proved victorious, and his sovereign and his allies hailed him as Prince of Waterloo. Napoleon died as by slow poison received from the chalice or the bowl ; but, in reality, like his great counterpart, Hannibal, in ancient story, from inward grief, and a sense of the insignifi- cance of worldly grandeur to heal a mind dis- eased with pangs of deep remorse and never- ceasing regrets, that preyed upon his inmost soul. England glories in her strength and wisdom, not so much in subduing the enemy of the world, as in extending mercy to millions of mankind. Greatness and goodness are the rival virtues that adorn a monarches throne and grace the crown that encircles a kingly brow. DEDICATiOy. 15 The jewels of a state are its blessings to its subjects ; the praises of the people are its richest gems ; the wisdom of the prince his greatest honour, and the most propitiatory offerings or oblations are the love of the people, while the blessings of divine Providence are the most grateful of bene- factions. Associate all these realities with the Castle of Windsor, and add thereto all that me- mory can recollect of Asia's eastern magnificence, or on the coast of Barbary with its massive towers and minarets of Moorish barbarity and beauty, the structures of the seraglios and the most mag- nificent edifices of the Euxine Sea, such as Con- stantinople and its monumental piles ; nay, more, all royal palaces, whether Christian, Mahomedan, or barbarian, and Windsor's magnificent castle and the glories of England will surpass them. As England is more civilized, so in like manner the minds of its people exceed those of all other nations. The last to be described is the Flag Tower, which is a lofty eminence, exceeding in elevation 16 DEDICATION. all other parts of Windsor Castle, and appears as if proud of fulfilling the intention of its founder, George the Fourth, that of displaying, in proud array, the banner of England to the inhabitants of the surrounding districts. From this lofty height is seen, as with a bird's eye view, one vast amphitheatre, which in succes- sion presents itself to the astonished gaze. Ima- gination is lost in wonder at the numerous but partially distinct objects that present themselves to sight on a bright and resplendent day, when the sun's vivifying rays shed a lustre on all around ; on such a day is seen the majestic oak, with its wide-spread limbs towering over the plain beneath, as another Ajax the battle field. To change the metaphor, the distance makes all ap- pear like the mock dignity of Lilliputian gran- deur: each oak seems parading, as subjects, the diminished parks, the pleasure-grounds or pro- menade of a Lilliputian king; while the Long- Walk elms, as double files of soldiers, stand under arms, forming an avenue leading to the magnifi- DEDICATION. 17 cent castle, to greet the apparently advancing monarch, the bronze statue of his Majesty, George the Third, on horseback, who was wont to review his troops thus drawn up in line on a field-day. The space around, in the distance, presents a beautiful landscape of the sublime, condensed into one focus, resembling magic land, or the re- gions of enchantment, but which is in reality na- ture variously displayed, as diversified by the hands of industry and ingenuity of man. Satellites, as Cranbourn, Cumberland, and the Lodge, are stationed in the midway distance^ as sentinels on duty, or as warders of the forest, in obedience to the monarch's mandate. Was more wanting to realize the triumph of art over simple nature unadorned, look beneath you, towards the east, and you there behold in miniature, and with diminished grandeur, what appears to be the imaginary buildings of fairy castles in the air realized. The inequalities of tower succeeding tower, turret piled on turret. 18 DEDICATION; and battlement on battlement, present themselves in endless variety, while those massive stone projections, forming the grandest features of sub- limity, denominated the King's Tower, Wyatville Tower, Devil Tower, York and Lancaster Towers, with many others, present to my imagi- nation giants of the'old en time, in colossal propor- tions so vast, as if mocking their origin, and seeming to spurn contemptuously from their mo- ther earth, that bore them in her womb. In more extended views, the mind is lost in one intense whirl of pleasure, too mazy to be delineated ; but what art could form through hu- man efforts, and the talents of a thousand years, is here variously portrayed in all the simplicity of ancient days, improved by the march of intellect in its advancement from those ages of Goth and Vandalism when nature lay desolate and rude, as from its Creator formed ; but now may be seen Ceres, extending her protecting influence over corn-fields, which are rich with waving grain, while Flora decks the pastures with flowers of DEDICATION. 19 varying beauty, delighting the senses and lead- ing the judgment captive ; while other goddesses, in emulation, reward the labour of man by bless- ing him with the attributes of their divinities. I now end my feeble eulogium upon the aus- pices of our monarchs' and of England's high achievements and glory; of our individuality as subjects ; of our greatness as a nation ; and pro- ceed to that part of my subject, my hero's history, which has been my motive for endeavouring to secure fame and attention to this tale of Windsor Forest in the early part of the Nineteenth Century. Thus far, as a preliminary. — The preface will ex- plain more fully the design of the work in general, which is to inculcate virtue, recommend adher- ence to the dictates of humanity, and endeavour to improve, where apparent, the erroneous prin- ciples of the times, by the force of examples illus- trated by precepts; and where human nature shows its weakness, as incident to human frailty, the falling fortunes will portray the folly of ere- 20 DEDICATION. dulity beyond the probability of just reasoning and natural inference. With the most profound reverence and respect for the memory of his late most gracious Majesty, GEORGE THE FOURTH, I subscribe myself, His late Subject And Servant, The Author. Windsor, 18 . EDITOR'S PREFACE. Manners make the man," Good principles the gentleman. The Editor has to account to the public for the manner in ^hich he became possessed of the manuscript copy of this work, which he was re- quested to print and pubhsh. Cervantes accounted to the world in his day for the way in which the adventures of Don Quixotte, an ingenious gentleman, and marrer of his own fortunes, fell in his, Cervantes' hands — ' " That he went to Toledo, where he pretended to have discovered the original manuscript of the Arabian Benengeh; he had been also at Cor- dova, in his way to Seville, and has noticed 22 editor's preface. many peculiarities of that capital in some of his other works. '^ One of the most important events^ at least from its effects, was his residence in La Mancha, on his return from Seville, because we are in- debted to this circumstance for the ino^enious fable of the Quixotte, which he projected and completed in that province, while living there ; he accurately observed the most remarkable places in it, such as the Lakes of Quydera, the Cave of Montesiiios, the situation of the Fulling Mills, the Pass of Lapice, and other places, which he afterwards made the theatre of Don Quixotte's adventures." In like manner, the Author of Windsor Forest has related those things he witnessed and expe- rienced, as well as the sentiments that passed through his mind while a resident in the beautiful forest alluded to; with the incidents that befell him in rather a pecuHar manner, with some at- tempt at pleasantry, as well as serious argument, under the character of '^ Ardent," an ingenious editor's preface. 23 medical gentleman, who may with truth have been styled the maker of his own misfortunes and the mischances that befell him in search after the philosopher's stone, or chimera, called human happiness, which accounts for this manuscript falling into the hands of myself, the present Edi- tor, through similar means as has been said to have occurred to Cervantes, and which will be now related. In the latter part of the eighteenth and begin- ning of the nineteenth century, lived a peculiarly eccentric character, as far as my knowledge ex- tends. In the vigour of his early years he was a se- rious character; but, like Sir Roger de Coverley, in the Spectator, became entangled in the mazes of love. A captivating female appears to have had influence over his destiny ; but there was this dissimilarity, — she was not thought to be so chaste as the celebrated lady whom Sir Roger de Coverley sighed so long for in vain ; and although the times were not a century remote from each 24 editor's preface. other, as may be conjectured, yet there appears less of courteousness in this instance than was evinced throughout all the gallantry of Sir Roger, who has always been a favourite with the ladies, from his constancy, patience, and forbearing to express either anger or resentment, from the ill requital of his tender flame ; and, also, with the British public generally, from the amiable pecu- liarities of his character and humane disposition of mind, united with urbanity of manners. The difference in fortunes and other accidents of life, will, perhaps, in some degree account for the difference of affairs and events in Ardent's and Sir Roger's history : each had their discomfitures peculiarly belonging to their stations and ranks in life, one endeavouring to induce the widow to be in love with him, while the other fell into the snares prepared for him by the assumed character of a widow, intended to beguile him within the meshes of a silken net into the bowers of infatua- tion. The unhappiness arising therefrom in- duced him to write his life. It is now before the Et)ITOR*S PREFACE* ^ public, and proves that lie always professed him- self an advocate for upright and sound princi- ples; such I learn from the manuscript copy now in my possession. A romance or novel usually implies a love tale, which should terminate happily ; but this, the first adventures of the hero, as far as I can compre- hend, seems to have been attended with great discomfiture to all the parties, and, literally speaking, a scene of distressing events, not in the commencement, for then all was bower and sunshine ; but as the events succeeded each other, they were clouded with sufficiently horrid circumstances as to excite any modern sensibility from the shock humanity usually experiences in the reading of adverse fortunes. I congratulate the reader upon the improba- bility of similar circumstances occurring again in any age or country, at this advanced stage of civil society and polished manners ; for as we progress from barbarism and the barbaric ages of the world, so in like manner it may be expected c 26 editor's preface. that the human character will be more enlightened, consequently less vulnerable to the blandish- ments of seduction or the shafts of malevolence ; from the artful knave and wanton, the entangle- ments of infatuating love, or those disagreeable alternatives of adventure so fraught with unhap- piness to all parties. The more innocent love of Sir Roger may have been of the real Platonic cast, for his mo- desty prevented him from ever actually disclosing it to the object of his solicitude : it certainly could not boast of that enthusiasm in the com- mencement, or, indeed, at any time, as that of our hero, but, on the contrary, was sedate, and com- paratively tranquil, through a long life, or for the space of nearly forty years, giving evidence of the calm stoicism of some philosophical tempera- ments, who are thus resigned to the will of divine providence and the instinctive principles of resig- nation, and other cucumber-like attributes, pecu- liar to some individuals of well-regulated minds, with happy fortunes and constitutions, tranquil editor's preface. 27 even in disappointment, and serene even in the warm atmosphere of Cupid's climate. While Ardent, so far from resembling the calm demeanor of Sir Roger, in dissimilar circum- stances, it is true, was a complete tempest of the passions, or of that infatuating influence miscalled love ; not so usual in northern latitudes, but more common in the torrid zone, where that passion leads to great irregularities and consequent in- conveniences, not so much expected to be real- ized in this country, but in the half-barbarian savage of foreign climes, and which are attended with great seriousness and unhappiness, as will be abundantly proved in this history. The im- petuous lover not comprehending the manoeuvres and fickleness of his apparently coy and artful mistress, the events partook more of the tragic character than is usual with scenes of an amatorv nature in this country. Having prepared my reader so far, I will now, as the Editor, proceed to narrate what has come within my personal knowledge of the life of the c2 ZO EDITOR S PREFACE, author, or rather of the individual who was sup- posed to be the hero of this history. Eccentric he was in some degree, and so peculiar in his no- tions as to excite the attention of his then neigh, hours and friends, who in the more advanced period of his life, from the severity of his satire, called him the Iron Pen ; at the time I am now alluding to, he was known to reside in seclusion from society and exclusion from the world. Now, by way of distinction from the other in- habitants of the said forest, and, as it were, to mark the way of thinking of this extraordinary personage, he characterized himself as a Satirist of the Nineteenth Century, professing to write bolder truths than many other men, particularly on morals and principles. This I relate merely in confirmation of the singular way of thinking of one who had felt severely the blows of fortune, and the untoward events which are pecuharly the characteristics of a man experienced in a way- ward and w ilful world ; but then this was many Years after the death of his captivating inamorata. editor's preface. 29 He removed from scene to scene, ever restless and at variance with himself, not so much so as can be learned from the history, by the continued vexatiousness of the affair, as from the unpleasant reminiscences of the past. This strange being was in many respects fond of retirement, and even suspected of being a mi- santhrope in some degree, although instances are not wanting of his having shown many good traits of character, as long as he continued a resident in the forest and its environs ; for he was frequently seen to glide as a spectre among the scenes of de- solation that had often witnessed the happier mo- ments of his early life, and which are recounted with a minuteness and accuracy which cannot be doubted, in these pages now about to be sub- mitted to the reader's curiosity and observations. His habitation, as near as can be collected from many-tongued rumour, was secluded, near a wood. The doorway of his cottage was scarcely to be perceived, so much was it overgrown with honey- suckles, jessamines, and other embowering odori- 30 editor's preface. terous shrubs, resembling the entrance into a cave rather than a human habitation. To give an idea of its shrubbery -like appearance, he was obliged to bend his body double, or almost to the ground, to get in and out ; so little was the doorway seen, that the cottage, with its rustic wings, all on the ground-floor, resembled one great mass of bower, surrounded, as it was, with roses and evergreens, which nearly concealed the appearance of there being one; the curling smoke from the chimney- tops alone proclaiming it to be a habitation. In this retirement, consisting of six rooms and out-offices, he is supposed to have written the principal part of the history of his former life and love adventures, when a young man, not more singular than entertaining, and marking a pe- riod characteristic of the time in which he lived, and peculiarly adapted to the province of the philosophic character to meditate and con- template, showing from what small beginnings great excesses result. It is not known exactly how long he lived in editor's preface. 31 this retirement, but certainly several years ; the persecutions of society having drove him to re- side in this lonely dwelling, where there was no human habitation near. Thus, in solitude, he lived the life of a hermit, cultivating his grounds, making shady and bowery walks, cool recesses, and harbours, at every spot capable of being so con- verted. Besides which, he occasionally delighted to walk in the umbrageous woods adjoining, suit- able for the pensive meditation of a philosophic mind; and thus secluded from observation and the public gaze, he read, meditated, and wrote his life. In the early mornings of the summer, when the birds whistled the harmony of the groves, and the nightingale sang to his mate the tale of love, was the author at his window, overgrown with bower- ing shrubs, writing, by way of taking advantage of inspired moments, or to pen down, ere it escaped the recollective faculties, some contemplation, fancy, or incident, which was ever more or less crowding upon his active mind, demanding to be expressed and treasured, as it were, with inven- 32 editor's preface. tory-like memoranda, for the information of other ages not as yet in being. And often has he waited for daylight, begin- ning to scribble ere he could well discern one let- ter from another, portraying each letter by guess, the lines only being visible; he thus wrote on until the coming day, when the sun was first seen to shed a glimmering twilight as it ascended from the horizon, and, when risen, diffused morning light and blessings after a night's repose to an active world. In this solitude, contemplating nature's works and beneficence to man, he passed six or seven years of his life. It was thus he spent the over- burdened hours of restlessness from activity of thought, by relieving the mind of its mental cogi- tations, which haunted his midnight slumbers, scarce giving him time for repose, ere the early dawn again saw him writing in his shirt, and cooling the temperament and heat of his constitution by im- bibing the air-bath of the morning, which Dr. Franklin has said is peculiarly conducive to health and longevity. editor's preface. 33 Thus much I have learned by diligent inquiry about this singular man, which I have thought proper to convey to my reader; for the private history of many authors is frequently unknown, and at a future period regretted. I have now to speak of the manuscript copy falling into my possession. It had those two characteristics so prized by an antiquary — mildew and black damp ; so much so, as scarcely to leave five entire legible pages, but, like old parch- ments, were ready to crumble into dust, through rottenness, from inattention or want of care in by- gone time, although not remote. But such had been the want of attention, that they reminded me of the archives of still more remote periods, as those of the Henrys and Edwards of this land. Such is the destroying effect of mildew and damp producing dry-rot, from the sandy na- ture of the soil, that by some years of decay they were apparently as much defaced as the carefully preserved manuscripts of half as many centuries could have been; the vapour of destroying damp c5 34 editor's PREFACE. proving itself, in this instance, equally as destruc- tive as the tooth of time, as if in mockery of the works of men ; figuratively speaking, it was like deciphering the mysteries contained in the manu- scripts found in Herculaneum or Pompeii, rather than of so recent a date as that of our own times ; at any rate not far distant from them. As great resemblance may be traced in habits and manners of life, between the time spoken of and the present, the only difference that I can per- ceive consists in the improbability of the circum- stances happening so near our own times ; and, besides, they bear evident marks of their having been written several years after the transactions took place ; as I should conjecture, at least a score of years or more, before the finishing hand was put to them. However mouldy the papers may be, and ille- gible the state of the manuscripts now in my pos- session, consisting of several reams, yet they must be considered, comparatively speaking, of recent date, and not belonging, as some learned antiqua- 35 rians would infer, to more distant and remote pe- riods, not to be positively determined. I have, there- fore, chosen to fix the period when the dramatic incidents were said to have occurred or taken place, in this century rather than in the last, for sufficient reasons, not necessary to be mentioned in these pages ; and, doubtless, antiquarians will say I have ill judged, for they would most readily have asserted that, from the apparent marks of age and the relentless tooth of time, that has so evidently preyed upon the very vitals of the papyra itself, I must be at the least one century behind their supposed antiquity and pretensions to a much earlier period than the preseut, the nineteenth century ; and they would, in their zeal for the promotion of scientific research, have classed their era in the seventeenth or eighteenth centuries, rather than to a later period. Be this as it may, where dates have been want- ing, I have endeavoured to supply the same to the best of my judgment, which I hope will be ex- cused by the intelhgent public. To my thinking. 36 editor's preface, the manuscripts portray the times and scenes of* the early part of the present century rather than of any preceding one. We live in a more correct age and refined man- ners, when religion has more beneficial influence upon society ; besides which, the ecclesiastical law of this Protestant country is more considerate and careful in the exercise of its power derived from Popish times, it being no longer necessary to inflict pains and penalties on individuals for public examples, or as a protection to the guilty in their immoral influence and practices upon so- ciety. Neither is the common law of the land, this land of boasted liberty, so abused by harpies of the law as to inveigle victims to their destruction. God be praised, that in this era of the middle portion of the nineteenth century, we are becom- ing perfect patterns in our civil and ecclesiastical establishments, worthy of imitation to all our con- tinental neighbours, Rome itself, with its papal fulminations, not excepted; for in this land of editor's preface. 37 morals, every year may be said to benefit the li- berty of the subject and further extend the bene- volence of the clergy to the generality of mankind, and especially to those under their own immediate influence, so that the whole world may shortly be expected to look on, wonder, admire, and when further enlightened, imitate. The times were not then as now ; for in some village districts they may have been considered but a few degrees removed from barbarous no- tions : undefined and obsolete laws were then ex- isting; they were merely founders of the present happy state of society, when all is harmony, and nothing is heard but peace and unanimity. Arts and sciences were then less matured, and learning was but just beginning to be diffused among the lowest ranks of human life ; and even then, rude in some degree were the most polished manners of village districts; at all events, occurrences cannot be considered to have existed during the last reign. Forest anecdotes, eccentricities, singularities. 38 editor's preface. and peculiarities of the human character, were then more frequent, and may have been consi- dered as make-games at a fair, or as the efforts of mind to free itself from the shackles of barba- rism on the one hand, and human restraint, or the absurb usages of civil society, on the other. Such was the state of mind and manners which my author has exemphfied in the history of his life and adventures, which cannot actually be con- sidered to have taken place in the barbarous ages of the world, neither in the most polished, for vulgar prejudices then existed, which partly caused these strange occurrences which will be found in the present volumes. The ambiguity made use of on the part of the author to unsettle the critical era of the transac- tions, may be considered as a wish to throw a mystery or veil between himself and the public, as not to substantiate any fixed period of time, but leave it open to cavil and disputation, to which casuists in general are so prone, their element being chiefly that of wordy warfare; therefore. editor's preface. 39 while they are fixing and settling in their own minds the precise time of the transactions, I will proceed onward with the reader, and give him what infor- mation I possibly can from the manuscripts be- fore alluded to. In an age addicted to vulgar errors, be it when- ever it may, ignorance and presumption require gentle handling, as much so as a lady's glove. It must not be forced on the hand rudely, any more than principles on the mind, without some preli- minary courtesy and understanding of the inten- tion, d priori, that no rape or violence may be committed on (real or supposed) delicate sensibi- lities and inclinations. Therefore, mankind, like the glove, requires to be handled with gentleness and courtesy. A famihar easy shake of the hand is far more convincing of the friendship of one individual for another, than the rude grasp of a blacksmith or the gripe of a tiger. As Editor of the present work, I have at- tempted to account for the state in which I found the manuscript copies, which certainly could not 40 editor's preface. have been preserved many years longer, being in a state, as before remarked, of incipient decay, indicating a total want of attention to their pre- servation ; and glad enough the person seemed to be to be rid of them, as if they had been incum- brances while deposited in his hands, like a shell or Congreve rocket may be supposed to have been within a square of men on the field of battle at Waterloo : a soldier lays hold of the same and gives it a toss before explosion. The analogy will apply to the present volumes of manuscript, which are full of combustibles, as principles, vir- tues, vices, and descriptions of human character in their several grades. When the original manuscripts came into my possession, they were left to my discretion, to do with them as I thought proper, none controHing me in their destiny. I accordingly became the possessor of the records before alluded to, not knowing, at the time, of their importance, until by dint of industry and great patience and forbear- ance of complaint, with repeated and renewed ap- 41 plication, I made out, sufficiently plain and clear enough to be understood, the contents of the un- wieldy bundle that had fallen so singularly into my possession ; namely, a Dedication to George the Fourth, which myself, as Editor, has since dedi- cated to his memory ; also, a Critique, a Preface, and the Work itself. It being the intention of the author that his work should be published, I feel bound to comply, holding it to be a sacred duty, as all Editors should, to adhere as much as pos- sible to their manuscriptorial instructions. Now, then, for the incident that gave me pos- session of a description of hidden mysteries con- nected with Windsor Forest, or at least that part of them now made known to public curiosity ; in- deed, I have frequently been much surprised that no such history had ever before made its appear- ance, when it is considered how many marvellous love adventures have been acted in the pictu- resque scenery of Windsor Forest, some doubtless of the most romantic cast, as the lovers of the real drama of life could well conceive, imagine, or 42 editor's preface. wish for : one of its histories I now lay before them, happy in the opportunity it presents of amusing the pubUc. During a residence in Windsor Forest, I was visited by an elderly man, who, after a short apo- logetical preface, informed me, that having heard I was a literary character, he thought me a proper person to deposit some manuscripts with, which he had in his possession, as they were fast mould- ering away, and soon would be quite obliterated unless timely prevented. To which I replied, I would endeavour to make myself worthy of his confidence, and begged to know in what way I could be further serviceable to him. The elderly gentleman then informed me that he had found, in some old chests in his cottage, these manuscripts, which neither himself or neigh- bours could well make out, and which had lain in a damp room of the said cottage some time. *^ I think they belong," said he, '* to a strange gentleman who formerly lived in my cottage, and 43 was said to have been a little touched here, point- ing to his head, through ill usage, ill fortune, or ill luck. Be that as it may, he certainly was demented at times, by all account, and then wrote his life, as far as I can understand, for the purpose of amusing himself in his more lucid intervals. " This, sir, is all the verbal information I can give you. But the writings of this unhappy gen- tleman may contain his life and adventures, and compensate you for the trouble and expense you may be at, should you think proper to bring them before the public. This is the only way I can think of, sir, to secure their preservation before they are quite decayed. In fact," said the old gentleman, '^ I am doing now as I would wish to be done unto in the like unhappy circumstances of misfortune." Having spoken thus much, the old gentleman made other remarks — that manuscript writings oi'ten contain curious things, and when printed are frequently read with avidity by the public of the present day ; " and as I am an old man," said he, 44 editor's preface. *' and my eye-sight not calculated to decipher, much less to print them, I leave them in your custody. Besides, they may contain something worth know- ing and useful to society generally, and therefore request, sir, you will do me the favour of looking them over, and print and publish them as early as you may think proper." Having said this, the old gentleman deposited them in my hands, and myself being rather a virtuoso in half-legible hand-writings and musty manuscripts, felt a pleasure in undertaking the task, and assured him I would do the best I could for them, being myself not a little curious as to their contents ; and thanking the old gentleman for this mark of his confidence, we parted. Upon coming to town I looked into my packet, no small one, with a curiosity which was frequently interrupted by its indifferent state of preservation. What I have now laid before the public, con- tains but a small portion of the manuscripts com- mitted to my care ; and without further preface they will be now at the pubhc service, as fast as 45 time and opportunity will enable me to decipher them, and such as they are, with all their imper- fections on then- head, without interpolation or addition ; and, as records of passing events in those times gone by, they may be found useful as an insight into human life and character, when the human mind was advancing in progress, to what it is now become under the favourable auspices of his present majesty, William the Fourth. The volumes now about to be submitted to the public inspection, contain the first part of the life and adventures of this extraordinary individual, a more remarkable person having been seldom met with in private life, and whose sentiments and opinions are as singular as his life was extiaor- dinary . The volumes may serve to amuse the idle hour of the valetudinarian and the sentimentalist, by portraying scenes that have now passed away : they will serve to bring times past to the recollec- tion of many, and steal from them insensibly time that is present, as there are traits of originality in human character not of every day occurrence. 46 EDITOR*S PREFACE. The fireside of the winter's evening may be enlivened by the blaze of forest timber and forest love-scenes, peculiar to days that are gone by, and now only recalled to the imagination, but never to be re-acted. I could sometimes shed tears with the author, while relating the facts and incidents. And I can- not doubt but the author wrote his history for the benevolent purpose of informing mankind, and especially the junior portion of it, who are unini- tiated in the usages of the world, in its advance- ment towards perfection, and the blunders and strange adventures incident to such a state of society. All may be amused, and some instructed. The high and low, the rich and poor, gentle and sim- ple, high churchman and low churchman, clerical and civilian, all may read, all may feel for Ardent and his inamorata ; some will condemn while others extenuate. And if the present volumes meet with encouragement from the puWic, the poor gentleman's wish will be at last gratified. What I have at present the honour to announce to the public, has been a local theme of conver- sation for many a year, and many a winter's and summer's eve, by moonlight, by candlehght, by the fire's blaze, and by the sun's rays : no times or seasons have been thought too inappropriate to talk of tales now related for the entertainment of every reader with the least pretensions to curio- sity and interest. The harvest field and the hay- cock have alike been the scene of the village anecdotes of such once celebrated lovers as Ardent and his mistress. And there the love affairs of all former heroes gave place to this singular charac- ter, even those celebrated in romance, history, and fable, as Amadis de Gaul, Orlando, Hector and Andromache in Homer, Rinaldo and Armida in Tasso, Medor and Angelica in Ariosto, Adam and Eve in Milton, the Queen of Carthage and her hero by Virgil, Vasco and Tethys by Ca- moens, and all other epic poets ; and, if I mistake not, the Hero of Cervantes does not surpass the folly and indiscretion of the hero Ardent, in the 48 editor's preface. progress of his love adventures, the very eccen- tricity of which has been talked of for a long period of time, none having equalled him in extra- vagance throughout the whole of this renowned and justly celebrated forest. A prose description of ludicrous incidents and rare adventures surpasses all efforts of the pen in verse, and proves that, in the nineteenth century, as near as conjecture will admit, a character sprung up that may be called, in the language of romance, the moral Quixotte, performing feats worthy of an immortal fame, to which few heroes in real life, either ancient or modern, can be com- pared, so much do the incidents of real life gene- rally exceed those of fiction, when judiciously selected and cautiously narrated ; and as few ever equalled the originality of Ardent, so few will be so absurd as to endeavour to rival such a pretender to th e favours of the fair. Some men are ambitious of wisdom, others of folly, and some of both ; now the searcher after principles, if he is a man of sense and unsophisti- EDlTOrx's PIIEFACE. 49 cated by the world — that is, if he is a persevering character and endeavouring to move in a strait line, will be jostled to and fro by the rest of the world, who are in quest of entirely different pur- suits to that for w^hich he is looking — that is, honest principles. The difficulty of finding such charac- ters possessing the same is the source of all the inconveniences that attended our hero in his pro- gress through the world, so that, whatever might be said of his being a fool, he incontestibly proved and made sufficiently apparent that many others were quite of the opposite pretensions— to wit, knaves. But this is contrary to the design of the work to anticipate events, and thus proclaim them before their proper time and place. I will now conclude my editorial preface, as master of the ceremonies to usher in this work to public notice; therefore I do my author but jus- tice in endeavouring to balance his work like a ship upon the sea — against every wind that blows, or against any popular condemnation, with a VOL. I. D 50 view to preserve the cargo of principles and judi- cious axioms contained in these volumes, which are likely to benefit, not only all the passengers on board, as the readers may be supposed to be, but diftused so as to benefit the public generally as well as the owner or proprietor of the vessels in question ; who, upon this occasion, may be com- pared to a merchant on 'Change, having an argosy upon the ocean of public opinion, on which he has placed considerable dependance before it left the port. One quotation, and then the Editor will con- ceive he has done the author ample justice, by placing as much ballast on board as is necessary to protect the freighted cargo to the most distant shores, enabling it to bring back in exchange gold dust and the precious metals for ink, paper,thoughts, sentiments, principles, and opinions. And now for my quotation from '' Childe Wilful." " Oh, what miracles have been wrought by a kiss : philosophers, stoics, hermits, and misers. editor's preface. 51 have become men of the world, of taste, and generosity. '' Idiots have become wise men, and, truth to tell, wise men idiots ; warriors have turned cowards, and cowards brave ; statesmen have become poets, and political economists sensible men. Oh, wonderful art, what can produce such strange effects ? To thee the magic powers of steam seem common-place and tedious ; the wizard may break his rod in despair, and the king his sceptre, for thou canst effect in a moment what they may labour years to accomplish. Well may the poet celebrate thy praises, in ^' words that breathe and thoughts that burn ;" well may the minstrel fire with sudden inspiration, and strike the lute with rapture, when he thinks of thee ; well might the knight of by-gone times brave every danger, when thou wert his bright reward ; well might Vortigern resign his kingdom, or Mark Antony the world, when it was thee that tempted ; long, long, may England be praised for this divine custom! long may British women be as celebrated d2 UBRART 52 for the fragrance of their kisses, as they ever were and ever will be for their virtue and their beauty !" For this long extract from another work an apology to the reader may seem necessary ; as it is usual for authors to depend upon their own ingenuity, to carry their works triumphantly through all obstacles, as calms and tempests, storms and sunshine, connected with the press. But myself as Editor, in my anxiety for the prosperity of what I have undertaken on the author's account, cannot help evincing a degree of solicitude somewhat unusual, in my endeavour to guard and protect these volumes through the press, and defend them afterwards against preju- dices from every class of readers, being fully sen- sible that the subject is in some degree hable to misconstruction. By producing the extravagancies of another author in praise of female charms, I hope in part to parry and defend the extravaganza and eulo- oium so lavishly bestowed by the author on the editor's preface. 53 same interesting characters in the present volumes ; for, as few can be said to have loved to the excess Ardent did, the full consequences are made known to those less experienced than himself, how they place their affections and best regards upon im- proper objects. For further information the reader is referred to the work itself, and I humbly take my leave of the pubhc in the most respectful manner, as a well-w^isher to the cause of honour and honesty, upright principles, and firm integrity in well doing. The Editor. London, 1831 CRITIQUE UPON THE WORK. In evei-y work submitted to the public it is the opinion of the Author that the public should be informed of the exact estimation in which he views his work, particularly if the subject is fraught with incidents of a singular character. In the present instance, the Author has not the vanity to suppose he has related his hero's adventures with the humour of a Cervantes ; neither are the incidents so interesting, nor the adventures so extravagant, as those said to have been performed by Don Quixotte. Some individuals have been amused with the narration in an unembodied form ; and now it is published, he hopes the amusement will be more extended. The Author conceives that his work may be CRITIQUE UPON THE WORK. 55 of use ill apprising young men of the snares that beset their paths upon first launching into man- hood ; and the portrayal of their results, he thinks, must powerfully tend to check the extravagancy of the passion of love in time to come, as they will find in this history it has been carried to excess, even bordering upon bombast and the very height of ridiculous folly. His fervent hope and most sincere wish is, that it may be as useful in the moral world as the Quixotte of Cervantes in the world of honour, which was carried on just before his time to the greatest extravagancy, by tilts and tournaments, to the destruction of human life upon a large scale ; for it is related in the life of Cervantes, by Jarvis, '' That at a tournament given at Nuits, in 1240, sixty knights and squires lost their lives, either from wounds they had received, from the trampling of horses, or from suffocation : hence the many excommunications thundered out against tournaments, by the clergy of those days." The same destructive influence extends to the «56 CRITIQUE UrON THE WORK. passion of love in both sexes. Upon some occa- sions, whole flocks of our British youth, at the pre- sent day, the Author is informed, resort to . . . . . -. famed for the favours bestowed by the Cyprian goddess. It is not the intention of the Author to insinuate that he is a genius; ail he pretends to is to depict nature; how far he has succeeded or been successful in his endeavours, he leaves his friends and the public to determine. The Author has nothing further to add but that he thinks his tale a tragic-comic represen- tation of the passion of love, suitable enough in the hero of romance or fable, but scarcely to be credited as the occurrences of common life, and within the probability of human adventure. That the inconvenient situations were justly merited is true, but they were no less disagreeable to be borne with as a trial of human patience and philo- sophy. To be sure, philosophy and love are two opposite characters, and where they meet in a ridiculous manner, no less than absurdity may be CRITIQUE UPON THE WORK. 57 expected. And those who are fond of awkward dilemmas will be highly gratified, if not delighted, with the very disagreeable appearance made by a young disciple of the philosophic school, in his encountering the insults of fortune, and the caprice of the cyprian fair one, who was idolized at the time as an earth-born divinity, and whose favours had been prized equal to those of Queen Dido, when she flew with ^neas from the storm to the covert cave. Whatever may be the fate of this work, it is fearlessly launched upon the wide world of public opinion, to meet and try its fortunes. Should it lend its feeble assistance to check those sentiments which were inculcated by the novel-writers of the last century, who were always promulgating successful love, and realization of fortune and happiness in this life, it will at the least have had one good tendency, by nipping in the bud extravagant expectations of earthly feli- city ; for, in fact, real life is fraught with such a chequered medley of good and evil, as to induce D 5 5S CRITIQUE UPON TisE WORK. the Author to beheve that no one who would not wish to be thought a madman would think of being too much elated by the favours of the fair, and particularly those of doubtful pretensions to im- maculate purity. While arguing on the principle of self-preser- vation, the Author is not willing that his hero should be considered in an uncourteous point of view. For twenty years subsequent to the ex- travagancy of his first impressions, he continued to think favourably of womankind, when they did not mix up too large a portion of the frailty of human nature in their constitutions and habits of life. And yet he did not require too much of that soft effeminacy called female sensibility, but a certain portion of firmness and wisdom, to ena- ble them to bear the trials of the world with less inconvenience to themselves and least trouble to their surrounding relatives. Such mothers as he would have them, he hopes all young and beautiful women will aim to be, abounding in good sense and discretion, which is CRITIQUE UPON THE WORK. 59 easily attained with natural abilities. From such mothers heroes might spring, and such matrons be worthy of being classed among the mothers of the Gracchi, or as CorneHa, the wife of Pompey the Great, who invigorated his mind in his reverse of fortune. The dark shades which accompany frail beauty, are best calculated to moderate the force of that passion miscalled love, but which is in reality no other than infatuation. Was the Author to define love, he would call it a reasonable sentiment ; but infatuation the most irrational, and capable of every eccentricity and extravagant humour, which the human mind is susceptible of. The Author apologises to the reader for hazard- ing and obtruding this attempt at critique on his work, as his object is not to give intentional offence either against good manners, decorum, or any other known rule of right. How far nature has been portrayed as to 60 CRITIQUE UPON THE WORK. make it an amusing picture for our fair country- women to contemplate, will be determined by the public mandate. May it be favourably received as a satire on the vices, follies, and eccentricities of the age we live in. The Author. PREFACE TO THE READER. The Reader will probably ask, why publish, why give your opinions, your experience, and your notions of life and manners ? have they been required of you ? Presumptuous man ! how dare you come before the ordeal of pubhc criticism? Venturous man! can you hope, to obtain attention, when divines in the pulpit, and the most learned in the land, can scarce secure attention even for one short hour? To all these supposed inquiries, and many more that might be started, the Author returns his answer: It is an historical romance, which will sometimes secure attention and readers when grave discourses will not. Some individuals will 62 PREFACE TO THE READER. suffer themselves to be amused when they will not be instructed. He pretends to nothing marvellous^ — he speaks the truth; but reserves to himself the privilege of an Author^ of altering time and place, dates, names, and other incidents, as may be necessary, but still to embody the whole from facts. He has chosen, after some years of consideration, the form he now intends to write in, as being the me- dium most Hkely to secure attention from the many rather than the few. The paths of vice as well as those of virtue, true honour, and dignity of human nature, have been so often and so variously illustrated, that a new^ field may very justly be despaired of; au- thors feel the want of a subject by which they can secure the public attention, but by affixing to the present work the name of so celebrated a forest as that of Windsor, known to the whole civiHzed world, he flatters himself he will be able to fix their attention. It is with cautious deliberation he has decided PREFACE TO THE READER. 63 upon the title of the Work; and some hesitation may be presumed sufficient to screen him from the imputation of precipitancy ; still he feels a diffidence in meeting the public eye, lest he may give offence, which shall be the main object to avoid ; and from a fear of offending individuals nov^^ existing, for which reason all the characters must move under assumed names. That his hero has been unfortunate in an emi- nent degree, is notorious to those who knew him well; he has been accused of being a madman; eccentric he may have been, and yet he opposed on principle, and whoever sets himself up as a re- former of abuse, whether in public or private life, fails not to meet with rebuke. All oppose eccentricity ; very few have the in- clination or will take the pains to fathom the pe- culiarity of disputations, — it is enough that the public talk is upon such an individual, and they avoid the disturber of its peace; and however amusing it may be to a looker-on, or a reader who sits in an arm-chair, grave in deportment and un- 64 PREFACE TO THE READER. ruffled in temper, weighing as it were in the balance of his judgment the due proportions of commendations and dispraise, as may attach to each individual, it is widely different to the feel- ings which at the moment agitated and agonized the parties, almost to madness, proving they were far advanced in the race of folly and ab- surdity. The Author thinks he sees some inclined to smile, others to laugh outright, at the extremely unpleasant situation of the characters, and which, it must be allowed, was noways congenial to their own feelings, to be moved like puppets or automa- tons at the will and pleasure of fate or fortune. It will, perhaps, show to those of little or no feeling, and still less of reflection, strong positions, like caricatures or representations of character in the drama of the theatres; that when certain springs of the passions are placed in motion, great consequences arise from, comparatively speaking, trifling or trivial causes, which to a cur- sory observer might not be apparent upon the first PREFACE TO THE READER. 65 commencemeRt of experiments upon each other, and whoj previous to their collision, had appeared of no other stamp than simple characters, but af- terwards proved to be extraordinary personages, and elicited sparks of wit, humour, folly, and ab- surdity, which from them was not surprising, for originals they certainly were, as their history will prove. Lest the Author should excite curiosity over much, and far beyond the due proportions of gra- tification to be afforded, it may be necessary to desist from further description at the present moment, and be as ambiguous as may appear necessary, lest offence is given to all parties, in- stead of securing the commendation of individuals who may be inchned to sympathize with the hero through the whole of his misfortunes. The Author has now to inform the reader that his hero, some years subsequent to the present adventures, became a married man, and partook of the advantages of civil society as established in this civilized country. The benefit of his expe- 66 PREFACE TO THE READER. rience is now oiFered to the public, commencing with his Bachelor's Days and ending with the same, which the Author hopes will not only prove amusing but instructive, or he had not now ob- truded it upon the pubHc notice. Some men's histories may be comprised in a nutshell ; not so with our hero, although his first essay into pubhc life is all the Author purposes to narrate upon the present occasion, perhaps in- cluding a space of four years only, with a retros- pective view, indeed, after the expiration of twenty years, from the first commencement of his experi- ments upon the human mind and heart, not inten- tionally or through design, but by accident, and depending upon natural causes rather than artifi- cial, or those created by his own will and plea- sure, caprice, or any other known principle which exercises the best faculties of the mind in no or- dinary degree, towards the developing of the mys- terious parts of the human character. Refined policy our hero never had any preten- sion to. He was a simple character, unpractised in PREFACE TO THE READER. 67 the ways of the world, and had little knowledge of what is termed worldly wisdom. The consequence was, as might very naturally be expected, no ex- perimental chymist could have analyzed him with half the ingenuity as was practised by his delud- ing sorceress, and not having the judgment to dis- cern the gradual advancement towards a relin- quishment of principle, became in the end a won- der to himself, that such fatal consequences should have been the termination of apparently trifling causes or provocations. It is from no idle wish to become an Author that the hero is selected to obtrude himself upon the public attention ; perhaps it is to be attributed to the great leisure which the Author had, which enabled him to compile this work for public use, which the duties of an extensive and laborious profession would have interfered with, or entirely prevented the compilation of what may appear to some of doubtful claims to public approbation. The purport of the Author's design is not to in- vent fable, but to clothe personages and characters 68 PREFACE TO THE READER. with delicacy, as not to shock the tender maiden, the experienced matron, the speculative philoso- pher, the divine, or the poet. It will, he hopes, answer the expectation enter- tained of it by himself, and not disappoint the wish of the reader, who may delight in variety of human character so long as not presenting obsta- cles to propriety, prudence, and morality. Some may, perhaps, name this hero the Moral Quixotte, from analogy to the Spiritual Quixotte written by that facetious divine, the Rev. Mr. Graves. By others it will be perceived the hero is a man of principle struggling with adversity, the stream of which, upon some occasions, has been found too strong for his philosophy. By others, again, as a being in search of happi- ness, — no despicable undertaking, when pursued upon right principles. And, lastly, as the ignis fatuiis hunter, seeking after perfections which were not to be found; ever trying to reduce the occurrences of life within PREFACE TO THE READER. 69 certain definite and fixed principles, detecting de- ception and submitting the same to be reasoned upon by common sense, which rebounded there- from as from an anvil, and thus creating fresh ad- ventures, all which the Author hopes to exem- plify with perspicuity. The Hero is by no means a perfect character, and the eccentricity and peculiar construction of his mind with that of others, is the principal task to portray. To say more upon this particular, would be prohxity ; to have said less, would have given the reader too undefined an explanation. It is ungenerous not to speak honourably of the living where we can, and the same by the dead; but where the Author cannot, it is his intention to write as sarcastically severe as the indignation of the Hero and the commentaries of the Author may seem to justify, at the same time with good nature towards the failings, foibles, and peculiari- ties of his fellow-creatures. Remembering the Christian's motto: '^ Ad- TO PREFACE TO THE READER. vance ye forth to the field, with sword and with buckler, fight the enemies of the living God ; but let not your heart be cankered with hatred nor corroded with unforgiveness/' it is the intention to justify the Hero to the world as a man of principle, at the same time to respect the good principles of others. *' If ye seek the speck in your neighbour's eye, perceive also the beam in your own,'' say the Scriptures, which are excellent precepts, and con- vey a great deal of sound wisdom and discretion. *^ The fool followeth not counsels, and is lost in the multiplicity of his own indiscretions," says the same divine authority. It is not attempted to justify the Hero of this liistory at the expense of other individuals of the drama. But as error appears to be derived from very opposite principles, the shades of difference, like the shades in the rainbow of Heaven, is the Author's business to represent, not in a puling sickly manner, but in a way that will carry con- viction to the breasts of those bearing the stamp and characters of men. PREFACE TO THE READER. 71 Not to make due allowances for the infirmities of others would be cruel; not to notice them would be unjust to the survivors and those that are to come after us. The aggregate of human wisdom proceeds or is derived from insular facts, collected and strung like beads upon a Catholic rosary, and which has produced the present form to the faithful of that persuasion, not from the confidence alone placed in their miraculous virtues, but from the precepts or prayers connected with their individual units. To suppose otherwise, would be to cast ridicule upon the Catholic faith, and make the mummery of a monkey equally as influential with Heaven as the most holy and pious functionary of that supposed superstitious faith, whose confidence is in miracles and the divine influence of the keeper of the keys of Heaven — styled the Pope of Rome. If Mr. Locke is any authority in literature, of which there can be no doubt, the present work, if properly managed, may be useful to fill up that gap in literature obviously required, and which i2 PREFACE TO THE READER, the Author thinks he has in part the authority of that great name to vouch for, not as speaking indi- vidually of this work, for that would be impossible to suppose, but of such sort, of work. Mr. Locke recommends such kind of information to be col- lected by the tutor, that he may frame his pupil well therein. Now the Author, in part, professes to give that information by example, and thus pre- sent to the tutor a manual of the destructiveness of vice over the moral virtues of youth, and parti- cularly of the uninitiated in the ways of the world. It is in this sense the Author proposes to save the tutor a great deal of trouble in collecting in- formation for his, in other respects, finished pupil, at least as far as education and a knowledge of the classics extends ; but who will even then stand in need of such a work as the preseut to be placed in his hands, and when the tutor has ceased to give his instruction. The hero, Ardent, or the Moral Quixotte, may be considered an epitome of the life and manners which is most likely to beset the yonng man before he can either have PREFACE TO THE READER. 73 decided for himself, or his friends for him, the way he should dispose of himself, either in mar- riage or other occupations and pursuits. So that, where Mr. Locke has left off in his sys- tem upon education, as explained in his 14th edition upon Education, ^^ within view of ma- trimony," the author commences his instructions, to guard the British youth from the poisoned Cir- cean bowl, and offers Ardent to his view as a hero encountering all sorts of inconveniences, the con- sequences of his indiscretions and the neglecting to fulfil the wish of his father, whose wiser coun- sels were neglected, and who had the unhappiness of seeino^ his son a sufferer throuo;h his own teme- rity and disobedience ; proving, beyond a possi- bility of doubt, the awful responsibility attached to a rash young man, who opposes the sober and sedate wisdom of parents or guardians, whose only aim and desire is to promote their children's or their wards' happiness. It was in such way that the father of Ardent counselled his son, but which father has for some VOL. I. E 74 PREFACE TO THE READER. time departed this life ; neither did he live suffi- ciently long to be aware of his son's conviction that he had been in an error nearly all his life, through that one fatal step of indiscretion, and who was under the necessity, as a peace-oiFering to the manes of his father's wisdom, to offer him- self as an example to the world, and partly as a preventive of the erroneous system in future of neglecting the counsel of the aged, who are less likely to be influenced by contagious example and pestilential seduction. It is true the wisdom of the man often compen- sates for the folly of immature age, and as such the Author presents Ardent, with all the charac- teristics of a rash young man, to the notice of the public of both sexes, that they may perceive at one glance the destructive influence of female charms, when tainted with a mind depraved. Ardent repented of not following his father's counsel, but it was too late ; he had then pur- chased his wisdom, founded on experience, at too high and mighty a price to be acceptable or agree- PREFACE TO THE READER. 75 able, or even attended with any consolation of a satisfactory nature. Prospects blasted, mental energy overthrown, and perpetual self-accusa- tion, not arising from a guilty conscience, but from a remorse that knevs^ little tranquillity, and no reflections or repentance of the past could ever administer consolation to the mind diseased, the very spring of which mind, from being strained to comprehend events, was become too sensitive for its own peace, and its mementos can be silenced only by a refuge in the tomb. Gold may be bought too dear ; and nothing on earth could compensate him, in his estimation, for the inconveniences he underwent during the progress of acquiring experimental philosophy, or what may be termed, with more appearance of truth, practical wisdom, or a knowledge of the world by the harshest means, and which made lasting impressions which could never be eflfaced. This research into moral causes, hidden myste- ries, and the like investigations, he had no more occasion to have embarked in, than he had to tra- e2 76 PREFACE TO THE READER. verse the globe, and was therefore, as might be expected, severely re-acted upon in his retreating from the labyrinth of perplexity and the mazes of inauspicious love. Infatuating love is a failing likely to beset the youthful character, or indeed the inexperienced, for even years are nothing without information, and an old simpleton is the worst of all simple- tons, although proceeding from the same cause, the want of knowing better, or wilfully rushing hito difficulties their own better judgment con- demns in their cooler moments of reflection. The Author, as a father of a family, feels there is an additional responsibility attached to that sa- cred character not to violate the sanctity of good counsel; consequently, the. representation of in- different characters must be cautiously entered upon, or there will be a danger of exceeding those rules of propriety which he is so studious to avoid. The circumspection necessary to guard against the danger of profuseness and intemper- ance of language, is very considerable ; still they PREFACE TO THE READER. 77 must be known to exist in their real characters, and not sophisticated or varnished by the artificial representation of the imagination. The rocks of Sylla and Charybdis may be said to beset him, the Author, on either hand ; more- over, his own fame as a moral writer is concerned in no ordinary degree ; and whether it shall last to the end of Time's numbering clock, or shall be like a monument of sand on the sea-shore, liable to be moved by every wave or tempestuous blast, remains to be proved. The Hero's indiscreet felicity lasted for a short time only, and ended with pain and a state of long tribulation, all which was occasioned by an inti- macy with an individual of at least doubtful pre- tensions to respectability, and certainly no less a torment to herself than to others. The Author could multiply these comments, was he disposed, for his experience has been great in the substantial inconveniences of this world, and yet he wishes not to be thought so severely cynical as not to admit that the Hero of this his- 78 PREFACE TO THE READER. tory did not gather some few flowers from among an abundance of thorns, and which he thought at the time really inestimable ; but his after-expe- rience sufficiently proved their inutihty, their pungent and cauterizing qualities. So that the Author's youthful readers, if they are wise or mean to act wisely, will pay attention to their parents' or guardians' counsel, and shun those who would lead them into mistakes of incal- culable inconvenience, not only to themselves, the immediate sufferers, but to their relations also ; for the grief of our hero's father, and his other relatives and friends, there could be no doubt was proportionably severe, as his father's hopes and most sanguine expectations were not only illusory, but totally overthrown through the folly and vicious tactics of an experienced and adroit woman, or rather an experienced voluptuary, whose apparent respectability and personal ap- pearance made the path leading to her house to be thought an honour for the time being, which was of short duration. The after-consequences the Author will have to relate in his work. PREFACE TO THE READER. 79 The Author feels an anxiety and solicitude for the public improvement in the knowledge of moral causes, and the inconveniences attending a devia- tion from fixed principles of conduct, which should be as immovable as rocks, and not to be rehn- quished for a song or dance, enchanting music, delicate flattery, or the seductive allurements of voluptuous principles. It is certainly har^ to resist, and our hero. Ardent, yielded to the soft entanglements, and suffered the wreck of a disor- dered sensibility, the consequence of early mis- placed affections. If the present work may be considered a continuation of Mr. Locke's System upon Education, it may not be, perhaps, too far to expect that it should assist in preserving those principles of propriety on which England is sus- tained. Mr. Locke, in the fourteenth edition of his System on Education, thus remarks, vide p. 123, and again at p. 334. ** Within view of Matrimony." Page 123. — "The showing him the world as really it is before he comes wholly into it, is one of the best means, I think, to prevent this mischief. 80 PREFACE TO THE READER. " He should by degrees be informed of the vices in fashion, and warned of the applications and designs of those who will make it their business to corrupt him. " He should be told the arts they use and the trains they lay ; and now and then have set before him the tragical or ridiculous examples of those who are ruining or ruined this way. " The age is not likely to want instances of this kind, which should be made land-marks to him, that by the disgraces, diseases, beggary, and shame of hopeful young men, thus brought to ruin, he may be precautioned, and made see how those join in the contempt and neglect of them that are undone, who, by pretences of friendship and respect, lead them into it, and help to prey upon them whilst they are undoing ; that he may see, before he buys it by a too dear experience, that those who persuade him not to fol- low the sober advices he has received from his governors, and the counsel of his own reason, which they call being governed by others, do it only that they may have the government of him themselves, and make him believe he goes like a man of him- self by his own conduct, and for his own pleasure, when in truth he is wholly as a child, let by them into their vices, which but serve their purposes. " This is a knowledge which upon all occasions a tutor should endeavour to instil, and by all methods try to make him com- prehend and thoroughly relish," &c. &c. &c. For further information upon this subject by Mr. Locke, the Author begs leave to refer his reader to his System upon Education ; sufficient has been quoted therefrom for the purpose of proving the necessity of such a v^^ork being under- taken. PREFACE TO THE READER. 81 That the Author will have the abihty to acquit himself in this delicate investigation and nice inquiry to the satisfaction of the public, remains to be proved. — May the reader be eventually sa- tisfied, and the Author have reason to congratulate himself upon his successful undertaking. It is not his ambition to write for the informa- tion of the ladies of Britain alone ; neither is it his wish to be considered the chief priest or oracle that may be consulted by them in affairs of this delicate nature; for he would have obtained but half his object by converting them to the pro- selytism of his own opinions, singular in some instances as they may be considered. The emulation extends still further, not but the sanction of one half of the world would be of some consequence in his estimation, and that the most beautiful and ornamental part of Nature's fair creation — for the Author is a great enthusiast in the admiration of the fair sex, no one more so ; — but then it must be not only the most lovely in person and accomplishments^ but the most virtu- E o 82 PREFACE TO THE READER. ous also ; so that he begs they will excuse any formal declaration of this magnitude, that the approbation of half the world will not satisfy him, but that he is a candidate for the applause of the whole world. And should the Author succeed in his emulous endeavours, through the bewitching and captivating charms of his fair readers, and their soft persuasions with the other sex to think well of the work, his satisfaction will be then com- plete ; for to unite the good in holy zeal for the advantages of civil society, as confirmed by mar- riage, is the extent of his ambition. The mere- tricious joys of concubinage the Author hopes to assist discountenancing, by his representation to the world, by the lash of his satire, that it may be thought no longer estimable or desirable to prac- tise immorality, but that the milder virtues of the heart and mind shall now and henceforth produce the most enthusiastic joys. As the baneful influence of the poison infatua- tion is very destructive in its contagious examples and deleterious influence upon society, so in pro- PREFACE TO THE READER. 83 portion must its antidote be violent to be effective, or beneficial influence will not be experienced, as to entitle this great moral physician, our hero, to the plaudits of a generous and discerning public, who always appreciates well-meant endeavours, when undertaken for their especial advantage. The opiate of flattery to the mind would be soothing the effects, and not attacking the cause of the licentiousness of the age. But, as example is before precept, and facts before hjrpothesis, the reader must be referred to the work itself, to suit himself with the remedy peculiar to the malady and to the obstinacy of the disease, which the Author fully hopes will have a corresponding influence in correcting indifferent principles. The Author. ARDENT; A TALE OF WINDSOR FOREST. CHAP. I. INTRODUCTION. When a man marries a woman of sense and sound understanding, he expects her powers of conversation will be equal to her intellectual attainments ; that she may, when required, assist with her judgment and advice the literary produc- tions of her husband. Dr. Johnson and other literati benefitted their works by reading them to their wives, previous to publication, and it is attended with this advantage — a looker-on or a person not engaged in the compilation of the work, can detect an error, or, perhaps, a fallacy of reasoning, not apparent at S6 ARDENT ; A TALE the moment to the author himself, who, with a mind heated by the general outline of the work en masse, is usually so overcharged with mate- rials, and his ideas crowd upon him so fast, as scarcely to give him the necessary opportunity of expressing them ; not very unlike a headstrong multitude, each endeavouring to be foremost in the scene. And although the author is all omni- potent upon these occasions, he has still an ardu- ous task to settle the priority of their claims and pretensions ; sometimes giving precedence, not to the most deserving upon all occasions, but to the chance or accident that ushers them into notice, glad to be rid of them upon any terms at all consistent with propriety and general usefulness. Moli^re, the French dramatist, read his come- dies to his housekeeper, and according to the effect he found they produced on her, he prognos- ticated their success in the dramatic represen- tation. Every author of real or imaginary abilities fan- cies in his own mind he is writing for immortality. If such is the general fact, of which there can be no doubt, as author of this novel, I put in my claim for a small share of the pubHc favour, even after OF WINDSOR FOREST. 87 the present living body of mine becomes a caput mortuum. An author possessing a favourable opinion of his works, should be more particularly circumspect, especially when on dangerous ground, and, if pos- sible, trebly diligent to eradicate all objectionable passages, to make his work deserving of a lasting fame, that his children, if he has any, and the public, may not have their feelings outraged by in- judicious remarks or impertinent observations, still less that the work should have an immoral tendency as to be banished from the most worthy part of the creation, the ladies of England, who are very deservedly classed, not only as the most virtuous in the world, but also as the most graceful of any on the globe. That they may always merit the foremost rank amonor the dauofhters of men, is my most fervent wish, including my o^vn daugh- ter, a lassie of unquestionable pretensions to the amiable qualities of mind and person. Having expressed myself at the age of forty- five as an enthusiast in the commendation of female loveliness of person, mind, and accomplishments, what might not have been expected from my hero at the age of twenty-five, when the judgment was 88 ardent; a tale obscured by the tender passion, and, as an unbri- dled courser, ranged the distant plains and forest wilds and wildernesses, in search of happiness, it is true, but was most wofuUy disappointed, in con- sequence of fixing the attention upon an improper object. That I seek for immortality I am too ambitious to deny ; that I have taken the pains to seek it in the right channel, I am too incompetent to judge. But this I can do, — endeavour to deserve that boon from prosperity I am so anxious to secure, and be classed among the worthies of England, or in the same rank with those literary characters that have benefitted their country and the world by their precepts of wisdom and morality. It is owing to such men, occasionally stemming the torrent of the passions of licentiousness in each succeeding age, that immorality does not desolate the land of Englishmen, as it did unhappy Rome in the time of the twelve Caesars, and to which immorality is mainly to be attributed the fall of the Roman Empire from the sovereignty of the world. It is not martial glory alone I wish my country- men to be emulous of arriving at, for that is fal- OF WINDSOR FOREST. 89 lacious, when two much dependance is placed thereon ; but to surpass all other nations for the solidity of counsel and advantages of wisdom. It is then this country will be the emporium of civi- lization and abounding in a happy peasantry, for the true wealth of a state is the happiness of its people. It is this prosperity that will people the entire earth, and its children will be respected to its utmost limits, bounded only by the absence of the sun's genial influence to animal and vegetable hfe. As it is, we stand pre-eminent in fame, in mili- tary renown, in commerce, in the senate, bar, in jurisprudence, and in national welfare — may Hea- ven avert immorality from our land, may the nobles set the example of conjugal virtue, and may each class of inhabitants follow the wholesome lessons of the commandments, as being the most influential towards securing a nation's prosperity and public happiness. From such sentiments as these can immorality be derived? It cannot; and ever protect me, ye tutelary deities of the public morals, from profan- ing the shrine of virtue and the innocence of the minds of men and women who are mutually inte- 90 ARDENT ; A TALE rested in keeping the holy Sacrament of marriage pure and undefiled. If Mr. Locke was of the opinion that such infor- mation was necessary to be communicated to young men previous to their launching into public life, and that opinion having passed through no less than fourteen editions, in his work on Educa- tion, I take it to be a strong confirmation that the public sentiment is with Mr. Locke, and that the noble, the good, and the wealthy, not in the trea- sures of this world alone, but in the inestimable blessings belonging to human life, called virtues, sentiments, and principles, consider the upholders of public morals and those who inculcate moral precepts tending to private virtue, to be deserving of respect and approbation. For without virtue neither individuals or nations can prosper, neither could it be expected that this nation would main- tain its pre-eminence among many, but would gradually sink until it became the bond-slave to other nations, more firm in nerve, wisdom, discre- tion, prudence, and the like characteristics of a great people. For where the mass of the public morals are not inundated, and there are found springing up public men, ready to lay down their OF WINDSOR FOREST. 91 lives and fortunes in the defence of principle and sound discretion, that country may be classed as prosperous ; for individual virtue secures public prosperity and lasting happiness ; it is the anti- dote to poison, for a public writer or author, if his principles and his practice are good, can influence thousands — nay, millions, by counteracting the immoral principles of some individuals, who are silently sapping the wealth of a nation, which con- sists in industry, time, place, services, and other negative qualities, as well as active moral virtues. The deprivation of these are of no utility to indi- viduals, and still less to be considered as public benefactions, for they act in the inverse ratio of pubHc advantages. Immoral individuals counter- act prosperity, deteriorating from the public principles, and which, but for the strenuous efforts of able men, would become the public spoil, until the country, whether it be England or any other nation, would be depopulated or enfeebled, so as to be easily overthrown and become the tributary province to other nations ; for arts are necessary as well as arms to secure the prosperity of coun- tries, and particularly its moral, religious, and integral principles, called justice, equity, fairness. 92 ARDENT ; A TALE and all the virtues not founded on the basis of cunning, but wisdom, not of expediency, but prin- ciple, without which a nation cannot stand, and all must rise and fall by their own merit or demerit. It is not the ostentation of a country, kingdom, or commonwealth that can be its permanent sup- port, or why did not ancient Rome perpetuate its grandest days of triumph, to whose prosperity all the then known world contributed? — It wanted a continuance of private worth. Individual worth being removed with the Cato's, the Brutus's, the Scipio's, the Seneca's, and the Cicero's of the age, with many others, that boasted commonwealth, that mighty kingdom, became impotent, and those who had been termed barbarians, still retaining manly virtue, oppressed and at last overthrew the mighty structure styled the empire of the world. That Heaven may in its goodness avert such a dreadful calamity from our country, must be the prayer and endeavour of every honest Enghsh- man to prevent. I am now coming to the most difficult part of my subject, that of depicting infatuation. Exam- ple is said to exceed precept, and I wish, by showing its evil tendency and unhappy conse- OP WINDSOR FOREST. 93 quences, to present that warning to the rising generation it stands so much in need of, for all are inclined to be amused, but few instructed. But in these volumes both amusement and instruction are attempted to be so interwoven, and so minutely intermixed in the investigation of human character, and developing the same, as to render the one incapable of being attained without deriving advantage from the other ; so that, if I convey poison in one hand, I also convey its coun- teracting influence or antidote in the other : the well-disposed will reap advantages from that part of the history that is most salutary. The able physician prescribes suitable medi- cine to heal those diseases incident to animal poisons. Now, an immoral person is an animal poison in its worst state, for that person infatuates the mind as well as conveys mischief to the animal frame. Divines from the pulpit have not been able to reach the demoralizing influence, principles, and tendency of immoral persons, and the only anta- gonists capable of competing with it are the moral writers and the satirists, uniting their joint endeavours, as will be attempted to be evinced in these volumes. 94 ARDENT ; A TALE The writer, before he attempts the task of in- forming others, it is presumed, should himself be well experienced; and the Author takes this responsibility upon himself, w^ho has been a close observer of the human character, in its varieties and shades of difference, for the last quarter of a century ; for although it has been said all men are nearly ahke, they present infinite hghts and shadows to the discerning eye of those well expe- rienced in the investigation of moral causes and events. The Author purposes to present to the world the accumulated experience of more than twenty years of tribulation, not so easily conceived ; but which will be depicted, enabling the pubUc to judge of cause and effect as it were by intuition, or a pre-conceived knowledge resulting from the descriptive example and warning of those charac- ters Avhich will be presented to their notice, not more surprising than singular in this advanced period of civilization. It is not the descriptions of characters that are the most useful part of the work, but that which contains the counsel, the remorse, and the de- grading consequences to a mind naturally prone OF WINDSOR FOREST. 95 to good conduct, but completely overthrown by a too great confidence in himself, and disregard of the warning given him by his friends and kind advisers. Such being the actual epitome of human life, it is brought forward as an example of the ill conse- quences of a neglect of the counsel and instruction given by parents, guardians, and other personages engaged in the guidance of youth, and particu- larly that part of it who are launching into man- hood ; when there are a thousand temptations to mislead the mind, and entangle it in the mazes of the world, until both mind and fortune or pros- pects become a total wreck, or so analagous to it as but a trifling share of difference can be per- ceived, even by the most accurate observer and investigator into moral causes. 96 ARDENT ; A TALE CHAPTER II. Those who have read Mr. Pope's poetical de- scription of Windsor Forest and its scenery with satisfaction, will, perhaps, think it unnecessary that anything further should be said upon the same subject ; and that to particularize other incidents, either real or imaginary, in descriptive scenery, is not requisite, after the celebrated pastorals written by so renowned a pen as Mr. Pope's. Others may lament that so interesting a subject as the far-famed Windsor Forest should descend from age to age without a still further description of its shady retreats and wild sylvan regions, cal- culated not only for the resort of majesty, but the lover, the poet, the historian, the statesman, the novelist, and the writer of romance. That I have now taken up the pen to supply these apparent deficiences in descriptive inci- dents, if they may be so termed, in what may al- ready be styled classic ground, I dare not pre- sume to avow ; but T am not so diffident or modest OF WINDSOR FOREST. 97 as to think I cannot say anything upon either of the subjects connected with these different cha- racters. To be copiously descriptive upon such particu- lars as are connected with real hfe, would imply that the individual so pretending to describe should have a more than superficial knowledge of those subjects he attempts to portray, either ex- perimentally or acquired, from other sources, as intuition or inspiration by dint of application or observation, to what others have said upon the same subject, or from the whole of them com- bined. The shady retreats in the vicinity of the Castle of Windsor, and the luxuriant woodland bowers, I have attempted in part to describe in my Dedi- cation, notwithstanding Mr. Pope has so ably de- lineated those sylvan scenes to the satisfaction of all men of good taste and sound judgment. The more romantic and wild parts of the forest still remain undescribed, unless in a superficial manner, such as its undulations of heath, which in some parts bear the marks of pristine barbarity and desolation, perhaps from the time of the flood, or even coeval with the formation of the VOL. L F 98 ardent; a tale earth, when it was from wild chaos created into hill and dale, as now beheld by the sons of men, after an innumerable lapse of ages. Tlie Chinese chronology, exceeding eighty millions of years, is a trifling calculation in the estimate of time, and approaches little nearer to the actual period of the creation than a tea-spoonful of sand would be to the quantity on the sea-shores throughout the globe ; for such are the hidden decrees of the Most High, that man's conjectures upon the subject may be no more in the estimate of the Deity, than the judgment of an idiot in the opinion of a phi- losopher. I think I have gone far enough back as to when Windsor Forest, as it is now called, may have been formed or created: suffice it to say, there it is, an agreeable, wild, and romantic scene, and constituted by the Almighty as a part of this island. Although forming a very small portion thereof, it is happily enough situated for the royal hunt, as well as for rides and drives, forming al- together an extensive domain, annexed to the crown of England for many centuries, indeed from the time of the conquest, forming a superb outlet to the Castle of Windsor, for excursive and OF WINDSOR FOREST. 99 rural entertainments, not only for his Majesty and his nobles, but also admitting of innumerable villas, as noblemen's and gentlemen's country seats, spangled upon the wilds of the forest like flowers upon a parterre. To describe Windsor Forest more particularly, would not only require the historian to search deeply into history and timas long since passed away, but also give ample employment to the an- tiquarian, the philosopher, the poet, and a hun- dred other geniuses not necessary to enumerate ; suffice it to say, our hero lived ten years in the forest, at distant intervals of time, and the reader may, if he pleases, profit by his information of the experience he obtained while searching after cu- rious facts, as a philosopher or a miser might be thought to do after hidden treasures or mysteries. Be this as it may, you are welcome, reader, to my hero's experience ; but as I do not wish to sur- feit you with too much information at one time, I will do myself the pleasure to narrate only a small portion of an accumulated information, having some pretensions to originality, a sort of gold and silver dross, which has been reduced by the cruci- ble of examination to something nearer sense and f2 100 ardent; a tale discrimination : the produce will be shown in the proper time and place. At the same time, due allowance is craved for the unpropitious nature of the soil upon which the materials of this history have been raised, — the proverbial state of this light loom, if it can be called such, has been found, upon some occasions, to make use of a common phrase, as dry as dust, or of a silt and sand-like quality, of little or no value in its native state. My collection of curiosities, for I am somewhat of a virtuoso, shall be exhibited as in a museum, for the inspection of the curious, not excepting those searching eyes armed with formidable spectacles or goggles. But, to return with all due expedition to the savage wilds of this forest, from the description of which Mr. Pope seems to have shrunk, not even the scenery of North America exceeds it in some places, with the exception of its stupendous cata- racts, as the Falls of the Niagara, &c., which re- mains unequalled; neither can the mountains of Windsor Forest exactly compare with the subli- mity of that wild part of the world. But its savage wastes may compete with any in those re- gions, being nearly as unpeopled in some parts. OP WINDSOR FOREST. 101 But our glorious forest is happily exempt from wild and ferocious beasts. There is a sublimity in the native wilds of Windsor Forest, bordering on the terrible and the majestic; from some of the hills you see into dis- tant provinces or counties. It was in this wild state of desolation in the days of Robin of Bag- shot (as quoted in the Beggar's Opera), and con- sequently attracted the attention of lawless free- booters, especially that famous robber, the Golden Farmer, who robbed the passenger and the pilgrim for gold, refusing silver as beneath his notice, and sometimes, from courtesy, supply- ing those he robbed in a Robinhood-like style, — that is, relieving their immediate necessities at their ovm expense, peradventure, not forgetting the old proverb — that charity began at home. A celebrated hill, commanding an extensive prospect in this forest, derives its name and is de- scribed as the scene of his exploits ; and a well- selected spot it is, as the approaching traveller might be seen for miles before he actually reached that spot, little anticipating the ruthless free- booter, who, as an eagle perched upon that eminence, was ready to pounce on his prey. Such 102 ardent; a tale were the times in centuries since passed away, and during the wild and unpropitious times of anarchy, confusion, and civil war. It is not my intention to depict or amplify upon such wild and daring characters as the foregoing : tliere are others in the world more worthy of con- structive reasonings, that are equally as singular, and not, perhaps, less instructive in a moral point of view; although it may now be mentioned that bandits, even in the author's time, frequented those haunts, and fired at postboys who stopped not when commanded, as a slug extracted from the foot of a postboy now in his possession can testify. But enough of this subject, which is more calculated for the journal of a police-officer, who frequently relates his hairbreadth escapes from perils almost unprecedented in the annals of a Newgate Ca- lendar. It will, perhaps, be thought the pen is held with too rude a hand for a novel-writer, or writer of romance ; but then the circumstances to be related are of too serious a character to form a light discourse, though some, perhaps, may think the contrary. Be this as it may, it is written from experience, and those who do not like the title of a romantic tale, may call it by any other name OF WINDSOR FOREST. 103 they think proper ; it approximates nearer to such definition as explained by Johnson, for although not falsehoods, some of the occurrences look like fables, purposely invented to amuse the idle hour and dissipate that time which might not, perhaps, be better employed ; at all events, the work may assist to dispel ennui, and those who are not satisfied with their present situation may read the numerous disagreeble adventures of other individuals connected with this history. The wild and ungovemed passion of infatuation is my wish to portray, in its most extravagant and fitful moods. The sickly love tales, properly designated as namby pamby, it is not the business of these pages to relate ; but a depth of artifice on the one hand, and a most ardent attachment on the other — to an unworthy object, it is true ; but such are the errors of life, if not guarded against by a vigilant self-command. The errors and foibles of the age are worthy of a more powerful pen than mine; and, as many have taken up the gauntlet, I will also do my best to describe that false love called infatuation, not sufficiently distinguished as a grand error in the life of man, and as a warning to the amiable part 104 ardent; a tale of the fair sex. But such infatuation^ be it re- membered, rarely happens through an intimacy with the virtuous fair, which is much to their ho- nour, and the highest compliment I can pay the sex. Ulysses, by his wisdom, avoided the artful se- ductions of fascinating and crafty women, while his companions became intoxicated and wallowed like beasts, after partaking of the Circean bowl, either of flattery or other excitements. It is not the passion in the most degraded point of view that I would exhibit, but one of a heated and intemperate zeal on the one hand, and of con- summate artifice on the other, such as is not often met with in modern times ; or, if so, usually end- ing with disgust, if not ruin to one or both par- ties. The virtues of a king differ very materially from the virtues of a subject : a king is said to do no wrong, or can do no wrong, which is the same thing as far as this history is concerned, but ex- tensive good, intermixed with benevolence and humanity. Moreover, the ministers of the crown are answerable, in a political point of view, for the consequences of ill-judged principles in a mo- OF WINDSOR FOREST. 105 narch, as far as they are connected with the wel- fare of the community. A sovereign's number of good qualities^ and instances of doing generous actions, are as, perhaps, a thousand to one ; that is, the disposition to benefit the subject is as a thousand to one individual wish to disoblige or injure them. Such are the characteristic quali- ties of a good king, and such the numerous ad- vantages that are derived from good laws and wholesome counsel, constituting good government in any country. Such patriotic monarchs are as suns with a small speck of counter refulgence, which is visi- ble only to those who have strong magnifying- glasses; for when we compare our modem princes with the reigns of Tiberius, and some of the Twelve Caesars who governed Rome, as described by Tacitus, they are as guardian angels sent from Heaven, or ought to be, to ameliorate the condi- tion of mankind in this land of British freedom. Man, and especially young men, may be too confident of resisting temptation when placed in their way. Pompey was too confident in the power he had to raise forces, to secure himself and the com- f5 106 . ARDENT ; A TALE monwealth of Rome ; the end was the overthrow of both. It is the same by infatuation, which usually terminates in the ruin of the fortvmes or the death of one or other of the parties, sometimes of both. The hero of this history was a young medical gentleman, who had just commenced practice, and so diligent had been his researches after truth and natural causes, for producing suitable effects in his professional career, that he had never heard of infatuation, or if he had, disregarded it, as a senti- ment unworthy of his attention ; so that, if he knew anything of the passion, it was merely by hear- say, as he had never read any work that treated of its effects. It therefore made him the more sus- ceptible of the shafts of Cupid, while he thought it only Platonic love or friendship. This is cer- tain, he knew little of the sex, neither had they practised upon his creduhty, so that he may have been considered as a profound simpleton, with just wisdom enough to understand his profession, and completely ignorant of the world around him : a more suitable subject for the exercise of the wanton's art could not have been selected from all animated nature. He was doomed to feel the OP WINDSOR FOREST. 107 full tide and influence of infatuation in its most agreeable and disagreeable varieties, proving to conviction that in the province of unlawful love there are no roses without their proportion of thorns. Hence has arisen the present volumes. But the morality of my subject may be dis- puted, and give rise to a dissension of opinion upon what is intended to be such by myself, who would lay a claim to credit for any good which may be derived from this work, and refuse to sanction the idea that I have intended any mis- chief, either from a want of sincerity or a too dif- fuse and elaborate description of the passion of infatuation and the evil consequences attending upon the same. Our hero commenced his career by a prudent conduct, and was then prosperous ; but the error alluded to was his overthrow, as it would, per- haps, have been of a thousand other young men similarly situated. It is not intended to depict the sunshine of the passion without the clouds and the retrograde movement from such a state of enchantment, for it was precisely the reverse of the flowery paths which led to it. The subsequent ill consequences 108 ardent; a tale have been considerable enough to fill volumes, for in struggling to get right, like the fly in the spider's web, he was more securely entangled in its destructive net, presenting a lesson to the rising and each succeeding generation ; for it is the natural effusion of the heart and mind, unso- phisticated by false representation or unnatural causes. OF WINDSOR FOREST. 109 CHAPTER III. All heroes of romance are supposed to have experienced something extraordinary in their infancy and approach to manhood, in some way portending and prognosticating them to be from the first commencement of their early life extra- ordinary personages, and which incidents are afterwards recollected, as having been the aus- spices of their future good or bad fortune. The author is not a sufficient judge to form an accu- rate opinion whether or not Ardent went through a due proportion of peril in early life, to consti- tute him a hero of importance enough to fill volumes with his exploits in after times. Perhaps the renowned Knight of La Mancha might have solved the difficulty, had he been alive, or even the learned heraldry of England and France, in which places it has been carried to the highest degree of extravagant and enthusiastic courtesy ; knights serving at the king's table on horseback, and performing all the functions of 110 ardent; a tale feudal homage and services in armour of polished silver and brightest steel, emblazoned with heral- dic emblems. But this is entirely foreign to the subject in debate, which was whether the person alluded to was privileged to claim the title of a hero so early as his birth, or whether he was only dubbed such in after time, to which the course of his adventures would seem to establish his un- doubted right. The author's own opinion is, that he really must be considered as an extraordinary personage, his life having been preserved at least six times before he was fifteen years of age; three of which, as proceeding from the accidents of Hfe, will be narrated. At his birth he was called the unexpected boy, from being a twin; his elder brother was the stoutest child born ; but whether natural causes produce natural effects at all times, the author is unable to determine, and as there was no inherit- ance of consequence, it was immaterial which was called the elder or which the younger, but such an apparently trifling circumstance in the early hfe of our hero was attended with a greater propor- tion of inconvenience to the court of France in the last or preceding century, and, as has been OF WINDSOR FOREST. Ill said, gave rise to a disputed succession, and ex- ceedingly perplexed the casuists of those days, giving rise to the story of the Man in the Iron Mask, and that the then reigning monarch was not the lawful possessor of the crown of France. But to descend from such a lofty subject to our narrative, the youngest twin, who is our hero, was the weakest child born ; he was suckled at home by his mother, until he became the strongest, while the elder brother was placed out to nurse, in the country, and fed with boiled milk and snails, supposed to be very nutritious at that time. But, nevertheless, had such cochlearious diet been persevered in much longer, it would in all pro- bability have terminated in the death of the un- fortunate nursling: as it was, he always had a ten- dency to weakness in his bowels afterwards, which he attributed to bad nursing and the odious diet he had been accustomed to in early infancy. The mention of his foster-mother's snails and milk al- ways produced disagreeable ideas, which was not very surprising ; and the author's wish is, that it may act as a check to mothers placing their chil- dren out to nurse when not actually necessary, which is too frequently the practice with fashion- 112 ardent; a talb able mothers, who prefer their own convenience to the comfort of their children ; not that such was the case in the present instance, which was owing to the impracticability of personally doing justice to both. The first accident that befell the young- est twin, was from looking at the reflection of him- self (when a child in petticoats) in a tub of rain- water, into which he fell head foremost, and would have been drowned, had it not been for his twin- brother, who extricated him from his perilous situation. Subsequent to this, he was again in danger of drowning, from falling into a ditch while crossing a small bridge at the back of his father's house ; and again was he extricated by his twin- brother. A third time, when a lad at school while bathing, with other boys, in a river recently formed, he stuck in the clay out of his depth, and, but for a taller lad coming to his assistance, he would inevitably have been drowned, as he was nearly exhausted or suffocated, from retaining his breath so long. His elder brother was much the quickest in in- tellectual acquirements. But, alas! his race is run, having died at the age of forty-three years, worn out with mental efforts, for his constitutional OF WINDSOR FOREST. 113 powers not keeping pace with them, the mind was thrown off its balance, and his dissolution soon fol- lowed. Our hero, the second twin, was not forward in apprehension, for his mind was of slow growth ; still he made his observations and comments upon life and manners, which are now presented to the pubhc. It is recorded of Dean Swift and Gibbon, that they were by no means forward in early life ; but iheir intellects expanded prodigiously in the suc- ceeding part of their existence, and constituted them the ornaments of their age and nation, both in useful and ornamental acquirements, causing them to be read with pleasure by every succeed- ing generation, not only in their own country, but in all foreign civilized states and kingdoms, which is only a tribute due to their mental endowments. Such men as these benefit not alone the age they live in, but those which succeed ; and such as them prevent the world receding into dotage or imbecility, and by their lashing vice, folly, or absurdity, prevent human learning or wisdom from relapsing again into barbarism. So that the pen, taken altogether, is a more important 114 ardent; a tale weapon than the sword, for perpetuating of a king- dom's greatness and glory, as well as in the go- vernment of arts and sciences and the general conduct of life ; the one preventing its evils, and the other only redressing them : and, as prevention is deemed better than cure, so must the pen be the more worthy weapon, as superseding, upon most occasions, the necessity of brute force. The examples of the past are productive of good by the experience they give to succeeding generations, showing the rocks that have so re- peatedly caused the overthrow and destruction of all who have been so unfortunate as to hazard their safety upon what divine providence has said shall not be invaded or molested, such as private virtues and public welfare. These are the two grand principles that have firmly stood from the earliest ages of the world, maintaining their equi- librium and bidding defiance to the world in arms ; for however they may be inconvenienced for a season, they will buoy themselves up again in the ocean of public opinion ; and if one part of the world is too turbulent for their existence, will seek other quarters less annoyed or inconve- nienced by the turmoils of war and desolation, OF WINDSOR FOREST. 115 and thus in succession, and in the course of ages, traverse the globe. Commerce, arts, and sciences, are the sources of a nation's wealth, from giving employment to the greatest number of mankind ; while war, de- solation, and conquest, give rise to the calamities of pestilence and famine. War may be necessary to defend or revenge either ourselves or alhes, but not for oppression and extermination. There are estabhshed principles of right, inestimable and above all price, as they secure not only the peace of individuals, but of nations. 116 ardent; a tale CHAPTER IV. The pedigree of our hero, could it be traced, might doubtless be carried back to the first parent of all mankind. But as that would be found ex- tremely difficult to accomplish, not having the an- cestral pride of the Scotch or Welsh, it is not even thought necessary to be attempted in these pages. Suffice it to say, after a moderate inquiry by the author, he could not trace the progenitors of his hero, with certainty, farther back in history than his great-grandfather. His great-grandfather, by the father's side, for that is the most important channel for the tracing of his origin through the genealogical tree, was a clergyman of the church of England, who pos- sessed, besides the living of , four^manors and other large possessions in that county, enough in all conscience to prove our hero was a gentleman born; and had, therefore, the right, title, and unqualified pretensions to think and act OP WINDSOR FOREST. 1 17 like a gentleman, and as an independent and free- born Englishman. Now, this great-grandfather of Ardent, from some reason or other, disinherited his youngest son, who was grandfather, by the father's side, to Ardent. Ardent never saw his paternal grand- father, from his dying before the birth of our hero ; but he remembers very well having seen, in his younger days, descendants of the elder branch of the family of his great-grandfather, one of whom wore a large bushy wig, and who had the good fortune to marry an heiress, and was also possessed of two livings, one in Worcestershire, and the other, to the best of his recollection, in Cumberland. This elder branch of the elder part of the family was also disinherited by his father, for no other reason than because he was already well provided for, not only by the gifts of fortune, but church benefices ; so that the fortune of his fa- ther, not less than forty thousand pounds, went to a son and daughter, junior branches of his family by a second wife, together with the ma- norial rights. The son of this second marriage, a counsellor, 118 ardent; a tale called the Great, from his giant form, our hero remembers having seen when he was on a visit at his father's. This counsellor, from intemper- ance, died at the age of twenty-four, leaving his sister, a young lady eighteen years of age, all his fortune, and by her marriage the patrimony left the Ardent family. The clergyman by the first wife, who derived his origin from the elder branch of the family, was so incensed at his parent's excluding him from his will, that, having no family of his own, he left the bulk of his fortune, consisting of seve- ral thousand pounds, a carriage, &c., to the elder brother of our hero's father, in consideration of their grandfather having dispossessed his father, by disinheritance, from any share of that patri- mony which he had a right to expect as being the younger son of his father, the aforesaid great- grandfather of our hero, with the injunction only that our hero's father was to be assisted in the bringing up and educating his large family, which he religiously and piously performed ; and a more worthy man, our hero conceived, never lived. The author also learned that our hero, when a child, saw his grandmother, then near or past her OP WINDSOR FOREST. 1 19 ninetieth year. She had a small head and fea- tures, and appeared to have been a handsome woman in her day. She died at the age of ninety- six. The father of our hero was the youngest of several children, and served in the army and navy in his younger days ; having been pre- viously educated as a surgeon, under William and John Hunter, who were considerable person- ages in the healing art in their time. It was during the time of his being in the navy, in that unhappy conlflict of America with this country, that he was cast away on the shores of America, with the whole of the ship's crew, him- self swimming to the shore with the captain's son tied to his back, for which humane service the captain of the vessel and his wife were very grate- ful to him afterwards. The father of our hero, with many others, the ships' crew, then had to walk barefoot over Bunker's Hill, the day after the battle was fought, and were very kindly treated by the Americans, particularly those who were Freemasons, they being selected from the rest and taken to their homes by those who were initiated in the like mysteries. Upon bis return to England by the exchange of 1:20 ardent; a tale prisoners of war, he entered into the army, and continued in it until the peace, when he com- menced practice as a surgeon in the country; having previously married a very respectable young person, who brought him some fortune, personal charms, and much merit. Our hero's father, at the time of his marriage, was at the mature age of thirty-one, and his wife blooming nineteen, who, with many attractions and accomplishments, ever proved herself not only a truly affectionate wife, but also a kind and considerate mother to her children. The early part of our young friend's history has been related, as that of his being a twin born, with the many hazards and likelihoods of the loss of life in his childhood ; and we are now come to that period when he commenced practice as a sur- geon, in Windsor Forest. OF WINDSOR FOREST. 121 CHAPTER V. A YOUNG man entering into life, as Ardent did, without a suflScient knowledge of the world, was like another '^ Marcus Curtius, when leaping into the gulf to save the Roman people," for so we find in the Roman history the augurs and sooth- sayers had predicted. That our hero's example may be a warning to his countrymen how they leap into the gulf of inconsiderateness in an immoral point of view, is now the principal wish. Let it be said in future that England's youth look before they leap ; and, as our hero did not, we have the painful task of recording his adventures. Ardent was too confident in his own opinion (no unusual failing with young men), and too much disregarded the opinion and counsel of his father, who had seen more of the world, and consequently knew how to direct his son in his conduct, parti- cularly in that important step that regarded his marriage. Great anxiety was evinced respecting VOL. I. G 122 ARDENT : A TALE this son, as he was wanting in nothing so much as a knowledge of the world and the ways of life in a mixed society, which every day presents to the observer. Such was the state of affairs upon Ardent first taking up his residence in the forest of Windsor, at the age of twenty-five ; an age that would imply some knowledge of men and manners, although, perhaps, not of that class so refined in artifice which he was by his ill fortune shortly doomed to come in collision with, a sort of con- tact that few at more mature years could have resisted: a beautiful woman, surrounded by all the embellishments and luxuries of life that a middle rank or station could supply, and which inexperience like Ardent's was incompetent to form a judgment of, as to its real respectability or the contrary. There is no one more sensible of the charms and influence of woman than the Author, and therefore he can make due allowance for Ardent in his first experimental essay on the female heart and mind. It was, indeed, a hazardous com- mencement, considering who he was opposed to, — through his own choice and predilection, it is OF WINDSOR FOREST. 123 true, for such was his evil destiny ; and its cha- racteristic traits of singularity will have to be related, for the heroine could not convert him to her way of thinking, neither would our obstinate lover be satisfied until he had endeavoured to convert her to his own opinions. This colU- sion between two opposite minds and contrary sexes were the fruitful source of all the after- parts of this history. The various characters who form the interme- diate parts of the drama are the natural friends of either one or other of the principal personages, or mutually the friends or enemies of both, as their varied interest disposed them. It may be stated as an axiom in life, and worthy of all young men's remembrance in a most espe- cial manner, that where there is great mystery, there is usually something to be concealed no ways beneficial either to the person inquiring or the person conceahng; and had Ardent taken warning from the first symptoms of inconvenience attending his further inquiry, he would have saved himself much unhappiness and painful after reflections. Dr. Franklin and other eminent men, as Mar- g2 124 ARDENT ; A TALE montel, &c., have published their experience in life and manners, and the Author is of the same way of thinking with them, that the relation of their acquired wisdom may be useful, without deteriorating from their respectability, either as men of principle or honour ; for no man can at all times guard against misfortunes ; — the ocean, for instance, occasionally swallows up indifferently the innocent and the depraved. Ardent was swept away by his passions, as if by che ocean's surge, or by the sandy billows of the desert. The same may have been said in a more especial manner of the lady of his affections, who was overwhelmed to the loss of life, while himself lived to narrate the story as a warning to the youth of rising generations. Such, my young friends, was the consequence of disobedience to a parent's command, whose authority should have been respected as a law, and an obedience to whose will would not only have secured the son's happiness and prosperity, but the approbation of his family. The father and son differed in opinion ; the son was wrong, and ever after felt the ill effects of deviatinfi^ from his counsel and wisdom. OF WINDSOR FOREST. 125 The Author's intention is to throw somewhat of an ambiguity over the whole of the incidents, which he thinks will entitle him to commendation, for plain truth may be too glaring for common understandings; and was it only from a considera- tion of tenderness due to those who are now no more on earth, we should tread as lightly over their ashes as may be consistent with a fair representation. Whatever parts may be considered of fabulous origin, carry this apology with them, that they have been interwoven for the purpose of lessen- ing the full force of exposure in some instances, and as foils to parry others by the help of ridicule, and avert the odium that might attach to either of the dramatis personce. Dr. Johnson, in commencing his much-admired work of the Rambler, acknowledged he felt a dif- fidence and modesty in commencing a new work, lest he might not be judged with suitable lenity by the public ; at the same time he felt a confi- dence in the integrity of his own principles, ^Ahich has since, aided by his great abilities, secured him everlasting fame. lliat the Author has the same qualms upon 126 ARDENT ; A TALE commencing this work, that agitated that great moralist, he does not pretend to acknowledge ; yet he feels a diflSdence as if approaching an awful tribunal from which there is no receding but with honour or disgrace. That he may justly merit the former is his ambition — that he may not deserve the latter is his fervent hope. The mistress of our hero, in her principles, resembled the characters of some French ladies of Catholic pretensions to sanctity, who were so numerous in France previous to the revolution in that unfortunately distracted country. Paris had become notoriously corrupt, if we are to believe Marmontel and other writers. This lady's prin- ciples not being in unison with those of Ardent, caused remonstrance and quarrels, and finally a separation, terminating in the death of the lady, proving that licentiousness in amours, both in ancient and modern times, are equally fatal to domestic tranquillity. The Author has this farther intelligence to give previous to the continuation of this history, which is, that Ardent, when about twenty years of age, and indeed for some years after, believed not in the passion of love, and conceived it to be pecu- OF WINDSOR FOREST. 127 liarly the attendant of weak and ignorant indivi- duals, who fancied themselves possessed with sensations which did not belong to them or to the species, and was in reality only imaginary, and no more to be credited than the second sight so insisted on by the northern inhabitants of this island. And upon being asked his opinion of the tender passion about that time, by a lady much his senior in age, he expressed himself incompe- tent to give an opinion on the subject, more than it appeared to be a business-hke negotiation between the sexes, suiting each other's conve- niences, &c,, with the view to securing a suitable provision for themselves and offspring, should they have any. In fact, it might be considered a sort of domestic political economy, whether it was preferable to live single with inconveniences, or whether married and be free from the incon- veniences complained of. The lady alluded to, the wife of a physician of eminence with whom Ardent then resided, ha- zarded a prophecy, which was fully realized some years afterwards, " That his view of the subject would be amply punished by the avenging god of love, who presided over the destinies of mankind; 128 ARDENT ; A TALE and that what he. Ardent, had often dared to inti- mate, that those in love must either be enthusiasts or insane persons, would be retaliated upon himself in a more especial manner, for daring to question or doubt the influence of the all-sacred impulse that glowed within the breast of every man and woman, and which had been acknowledged by all men and women, through all ages to the present time, as not only necessary to their happiness but necessary also to their existence as reasonable beings ; setting aside the grandest of all induce- ments which is implanted within us by Divine Providence, that of perpetuating the species to the most distant ages as yet unborn; and that the immediate offspring may succeed to those comforts of life which parental influence and in- dustry have endeavoured to preserve inviolable for them." Ardent's reply was, that such reasoning was very suitable in romance, fable, or history, but at the same time he begged leave to adhere to his own opinion, as no arguments she had adduced had succeeded in convincing him to the contrary. This subject of debate was frequently renewed, with the like results on both sides, neither being OF WINDSOR FOREST. 129 able to convince the other, although repeatedly attempted with the like want of success. The lady lived long enough to prove the truth of the prophecy she had advanced, for in five years after Ardent was over head and ears in infatuation. It was then he remembered the lady's prophecy with double force ; she had then convinced him he knew not himself, and that there was an enemy within which was not to be controlled or sub- dued but by the greatest prudence and cir- cumspection. Regard for the sex should be conducted with every precaution, and even age itself is frequently necessary to direct the choice and select the pro- per object. It is the more extraordinary that our hero, in other respects a sensible man, should have thus rushed upon all but destruction for the purpose of saving, as he vainly imagined, a lady of doubtful pretensions to respect or consideration. All that remains further to be said, as a preli- minary to the commencement of the work, or the introduction of our hero upon this stage, is, that the father of Ardent had given his son an edu- cation equal to his abihty, and his confidence g5 130 ARDENT ; A TALE in his success was unlimited, with the drawback only of his wanting the necessary experience in the knowledge of human life, to gaiard him against the errors of a seductive world, and par- ticularly that part of it, the frail characters in the female sex. But there was this consolation attending the embarkation of his son upon the wide world, which was, that he knew no vulgar character could have any influence over him, and that who- ever she might be, she must appear to have all the virtues of the sex, and move in a rank superior to the generality of women of abandoned princi- ples. Should there be any such character exist- ing in his neighbourhood, then there would be danger, and he trembled with apprehension for the consequences of the baneful influence she might have over his mind and prospects. He knew that no ordinary character could raise ex- pectations or desires which would be compatible with the realizing of his wish — that of his son's mar- riage to a deserving person, when the prosperity of his efforts would be undoubted, as he had the leading families in the neighbourhood for his friends and well-wishers. OF WINDSOR FOREST. 131 That such a disappointment to his fondest hopes should have been blasted^ is now related for the benefit of others. It was the cause of the many unhappy hours he afterwards experienced, and his son also. And although twenty years have since elapsed, the time appears of too recent a date to exhibit unadorned facts without some accompaniments, to give the whole the appear- ance of a tale of yore, no ways connected with modem times, or in an era when it may be sup- posed that very little of the barbaric ages, or bar- barism of the feudal times, would be sanctioned by his majesty's auspicious government, and still less by our enlightened clergy, the boast of England in her greatness ; and to whom the w ar- riors of England are indebted for their education and achievements, and for their having implanted the seeds of fame, and made their several bosoms glow with the ardour that inspired the ancient Greeks and Romans, making the generality of native Britons as ancient Romans glowing with all the energy of enthusiasm and the dignity of wisdom. The clergy of the Protestant Church of Eng- 132 ARDENT ; A TALE land, whom the Author has had the honour of contemplating in their parochial official situations, has always given him the warmest satisfaction and approbation : he has witnessed their zeal and their good sense, combined with the most honourable virtues — this testimony is their due. Dare any one compare the discreditable lives of the unmar- ried Catholic priesthood, who belonged to ancient papal Rome, with the present clergy of the Pro- testant Church of England, who are gentlemen, think like gentlemen, and act like gentlemen ? Are instances of the fact wanting ? They will be found in this history : the Reverend Dr. Allwor- thy and the Reverend Mr. Aimwell, will be adduced to vouch for the assertion and commen- dation. In a time of great necessity they were the friends of our hero, with whom all will, it is hoped, more or less sympathize ; they were the gentlemen who, by their friendly counsel, partly aided to bring this history to, comparatively speaking, a happy termination, or it might have ended in a still deeper tragedy. The Protestant clergy of England discounte- nance superstition and fanaticism, or ought to do OF WINDSOR FOREST. 133 SO, which the Popish priesthood/ on the contrary, instilled into the minds of ignorant and credulous people. It is the glory and honour of the clergy of the church of England, that all enlightened minds are on their side in the great struggle for reason and common sense. Their usual exemplary con- duct secures them the respect of all enlightened men and women ; and the Author is proud of this opportunity of uniting his efforts, however feeble they may be, to assist in perpetuating their im- mortal honours to a distant time. They form the youthful mind of the country by education in all our great schools, and govern them afterwards by their enlightened principles of morality ; safely conducting them, as Mr. Locke in his Education says, into *^ the harbour of matrimony," and there leaving them. Such are the friends of man and also of woman. They respect them and take delight in seeing them happy ; a reciprocity of sentiment is established between them ; they are usually the friends of their fathers and of their brothers, their husbands and their children, and occasionally of their chil- dren's children. 134 ARDENT ; A TALE They are (or should be) the guides, the conduc- tors, the friends, the companions of all, and very deservedly so, for they are in general as respect- able a race as the world in its imperfections ever produced. May the Author endeavour to imitate them, if not in example at least in precept ; then he and they may sail down the stream of time with the expectations of future usefulness, never being tired of well-doing, and thus moving on to the end of man's pilgrimage on earth, to await for the reward promised hereafter. OF WINDSOR FOREST. 135 CHAPTER VI, Ardent was educated at both a public and pri- vate school, and may be supposed at the time of writing his history to be capable of giving an opi- nion as to the comparative advantages of each ; and as there was much controversy in his younger days for and against a public school education, he thinks it proper to give an opinion upon those two subjects, so much agitated in the public mind when he was a student at Eton, and other semi- naries of learning known by the appellatives of private schools. Some have maintained, that however conducive to learning a public school may be, the morals of young men are not sufficiently attended to, toge- ther with the general conduct of life. Was Ardent a man of fortune, he would prefer sending his son to a public school, but it should be with a private tutor, to give him the advantage of both a public and private seminary combined. 136 ardent; a tale Public schools, Eton for instance, are the best institutions for gaining a correct knowledge of the ancient authors, and giving that manly tone to character which is possibly not acquired so well in private education. And as a proof of this asser- tion, witness the warriors, statesmen, orators, and philosophers Eton College alone has produced, and will continue to produce, as its ancient walls encloses the future geniuses of our age and country. Eton School is not calculated for a boy of slow capacity, unless assisted by a private tutor ; and even where a lad has the brightest capacity, still a private tutor is necessary under the present existing regulations. Young men, too, of small expectations should not go to such a school, as the expenses for a good and complete education are too considerable ; and when they are neglected or passed over, as sometimes it happens, it is a loss of time which can never be retrieved. Ardent has never yet been able to comprehend how six hundred boys can be educated by two head-masters, and ten assistant masters, which is allotting fifty boys to each master or instructor — surely, one-half of them must be neglected, and OF WINDSOR FOREST. 137 receive little or no education. In addition to this already inefficient system, the masters require frequent holy days for themselves, and the boys the same, by way of recruiting health and as a relief from study. As it is, the time each instructor can allow to each individual young man, to superintend his education, is very limited, which is a strong argu- ment in favour of what has been advanced. And unless youthful pupils seek further knowledge after leaving school, which few are disposed to do, they feel the inconvenience of a defective edu- cation afterwards. The proposed remedy for this defect in the system of public education is, that there should be twice the number of assistants, and that twenty- five boys should form a class ; but this might inter- fere with the income of the assistants of Eton College. If the London and King's College Universities allow of a greater number of assistants, or one assistant for every twenty young men, Eton Col- lege, it is presumed, will do the same, or lose its reputation as a public seminary for advancing young men in the knowledge of the classics and 138 ARDENT ; A TALE Other preliminary branches of education ; and which greatly depends upon the assistance yielded to them by their instructors, as well as by their own capacity for acquiring learning. Such mode of allowing one assistant to twenty- five young men would, perhaps, in part remove the objections to a pubHc school, as far as learn- ing is concerned ; and until such a plan is perse- vered in, private schools will always maintain their ground and continue that just rivalry they are peculiarly calculated to exhibit, from attending to morals as well as to classical information. It is not intended to impugn the discipline of Eton College in that particular, for he thinks it is extremely well regulated, considering the num- bers of students and, comparatively speaking, the few teachers there are to perform the necessary avocations of that great and deservedly popular school of public education, so well calculated for all who are expected to hold situations under government or either of the learned professions, provided they have suitable pains taken with their education, so as to derive not only the advantages to be received from a private but from a pubhc education also. OF WINDSOR FOREST. 139 And now to say a few words on that reprehen- sible system of fagging in our public schools, which is still suffered to continue, particularly at Eton and Winchester, which would seem to im- ply is for the particular purpose of teaching, in a more decisive and imperious manner, subordina- tion to the higher orders, — that is, that might over- comes right. 140 ARDENT ; A TALE CHAPTER VII. Ardent having gone through the regular rou- tine of education usual for a person in his sphere of Hfe, began his career by commencing practice as a medical character, with a very fair prospect of success. It is an arduous duty to treat of trifling subjects with dignity, and perhaps still more so to write upon affairs of the heart so as to please every class of readers. The learned have wisely said, there is no wis- dom below the girdle, which is an axiom Ardent gives full credence to. In fact, the head and the heart have frequently been at variance among the wisest of mankind. Ardent has often thought of treating the subject in a light manner, then as a serious one, and again, like the ass between two bundles of hay, chose neither ; therefore selected a middle course, as being the least likely to dis- appoint the general class of readers. It is a subject that requires much tact in its OF WINDSOR FOREST. 141 delineation, and by some it would be better left alone and avoided, among which number Ardent is apprehensive it may be thought he should be classed, rather than undertake to describe what so many have failed in, a true picture of the pas- sion of infatuation. Ardent feels the necessity of the subject being treated in a moral point of view, by way of inform- ing young men of the dangerous paths which beset their early life. Infatuation or unlawful love may be considered as an intellectual poison, and as pernicious to the general health of the mind as mineral poisons, injudiciously made use of, are to the human frame ; although the an- cients had an adage that the medical art would not reach its perfection until poisons were con- verted into remedies. That time has already ar- rived; the safe dose of each poison is well known, and standard rules laid down for their use, as the benefactions of Divine Providence upon necessary occasions to the human race. From this inference Ardent opposes his experience against the unre- strained licentiousness of youth. The passion of love is one of the most noble of all human sentiments ; at all events, it has been 142 ARDENT ; A TALE and is still omnipotent upon most occasions, from the earliest ages of the world even to the present time. But there have always been some peculi- arities and excesses, some of which are now at- tempted to be described ; and as an apology and precedent for this undertaking, the names of some of those who felt its effects in the early ages of the world are quoted, beginning with our grand- sire Adam, after which Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, David, Solomon, and many others, who might be named in confirmation of its having been a blessing and an evil to our primitive forefathers. Those who have depicted the passion are also a very numerous race, as Homer, Virgil, Ana- creon, Horace, Ovid, Terence, Aristophanes, Juvenal, &c. In the middle ages : — Ariosto, Camoens, Cervantes, Le Sage, Lope de Vega, Secundus, Petrarch, Boccace, Abelard, Eloisa, Chaucer, Shakspeare, Milton, Sir Philip Sidney, Spenser, Montaine, Rabelais, Beaumont and Fletcher, &c. And near our own times : — Addi- son, Steele, Butler, Cowley, Congreve, Foote, Otway, Swift, Pope, Hume, Fielding, Smollet, Sterne, Richardson, Moore, Byron, Sir Walter Scott, and an innumerable number of others in OF WINDSOR FOREST. 143 all ages ; and yet the subject is not worn out. Varieties still present themselves, which Ardent fully hopes will plead as an apology with his readers for entering upon scenes but ill according with the gravity of a learned profession, whose province is supposed to be clouded and melan- choly, and admitting of no incidents for the diversion of those classes of the community dis- posed to be pleased with themselves and each other. 144 ardent; a tale CHAPTER VIII. Ardent, in the twenty-fifth year of his age, after exploring and inquiring with his father into the state and extent of the population in and about Windsor Forest, fixed upon a village as near its centre as was compatible with both their views of estabhshing a respectable medical prac- tice ; and having had much experience in the me- dical art in its various branches, the father natu- rally thought, that as all appearances bid fair for success, the time was now arrived when the estab- lishing of his son in business should be no longer deferred, to make him reputable as an individual and useful to the public. It was on the twelfth day of the month of March, in the early part of the nineteenth century, some have said the previous century, but with more probability the editor is of the opinion it must have been a few years after the commencement of the said century. A few days after his arrival, during which period he had not omitted to appeal OF WINDSOR FOREST. 145 to the Almighty for protection and success, he felt the gloomy clouds of melancholy coming over him from residing amidst forest scenery, the grandest and most sublime he had ever beheld the appearance of; its savage and barbaric mountains petrified his blood. It was true he was situated in a fertile valley, which vale was a sort of recess or resting-place for the wearied traveller, after he had traversed the desert heath and wilds of no ordinary pretensions to sublimity, the very uncul- tivated state of which confirmed their being trans- mitted in the present wilderness-like appearance from remote time, of which we have only a slight traditional knowledge: they may have existed be- fore the flood, and the ark itself, in the primitive ages of the world, may have floated over the forest mountains ; — no impossible occurrence, as high CoUa, CoUis, or Curley, which probably is de- rived from Latin or Saxon origin, and others, as Caesar's Camp, forming a continent of hills — Tower Hill, and numerous other elevations, seen in the distant view extending to the horizon. Such was the wild scenery of Windsor Forest in that time, mimicking in miniature the Alps and Andes, the Appenines and the Cordilleras, Tene- VOL. L H 146 ardent; A TALE rifFe, Mount Atlas, Mount Parnassus, and the Olympian Hill of Jove. This wild region is very unlike that described by Mr. Pope, in his Pastorals, of the fertile vales, bowering woods, and sylvan scenery, where the Dryads are said to rove in quest of love adventures. Even in this wilderness of the forest is some vegetation apparent on the face of nature ; some few fields have been plowed and sown, and bear the enlivening green peculiar to unripe corn, de- noting the dwellings of human beings to be not far distant, and that man, although not associated in multitudes, has a residence in its vicinity. When on a lofty hill or mountain. Ardent sur- veyed the extensive scene around, his soul sunk within him; he would then, with exalted voice, as appealing to Heaven itself, exclaim in an agony not to be described but by sensitive beings like himself, — " Where are your associations, O man ? where is that sympathy of soul, of mind meeting mind, and thought giving rise to thought? where, O where, is to be found that interchange of ideas which keeps and preserves the mind from rusting and reverberating upon itself?" After uttering this appeal, he offered up his petition to OF WINDSOR FOREST. 147 Providence, to look down upon a forlorn being, for in so wild a place humanity could scarce be said to exist, or in such a state of horror; impressed with these gloomy ideas, he was several times on the point of leaving his new residence to consult with his father; and upon one occasion, as he held the handle of the spring-lock of his door in one. hand, in order to leave his house, a double rap on the outside made him start. He opened the door and beheld his father, who, kind soul, with all the anxiety of parental tenderness, came to console his son in his gloomy retreat, and pre- sent him with the good wishes of his family. '^ Where were you going ?" exclaimed the fa- ther. '' To you, my dear sir," replied Ardent, ^' for I am suffering under horrors I cannot describe. I never knew the irksomeness of solitude before. It appears as if my own voice astonished me ; its echo along the walls startles me; I fancy such apparitions in every corner of my habitation, as have not been surpassed by the sprites and spec- tres of former ages ; my imagination conjures up unembodied forms not to be exceeded by the ghost of Banquo, or Caesar in his bloody garments, as h2 148 ARDENT ; A TALE he was seen by Brutus, in his tent, on the marshy plains of Philippi, or by the spectral visions that haunted the conscience-stricken Richard the Third. And, as a further convincing proof of my unoccupied state producing a re-action upon the sensorium of my active mind, behold me, with all the morbid sensibility of a mind wandering among scenes remote as if Don Quixotte was again combat* ting his windmills for my amusement and delight. Then, again, Sancho, of blanket memory, tossed to and fro* in the air, like a tennis-ball of fortune, by the bumpkins who surround him. Again, the wine-skins bleed before my sight; then Sancho Panza's government is represented to my view, with the physicians' intercepting his gormandiz- ing propensities as salutary to his temporal wel- fare; his being disembogued therefrom with all the bustle of military warfare ; his being trampled upon by his followers, in the fray, as they were animating him to defend the seat of his govern- ment Mn the Island of Barrataria.' All these va- garies, and a thousand more, pass and repass be- fore my mental vision, not entirely as imaginary personages, but occasionally as really visual ob- jects, showing that the fancy, when not otherwise OP WINDSOR FOREST. 149 engaged, will gambol, recollection will dance at- tendance, and present agreeable or disagreeable illusions; and whichever they chance to be, it is all the same, uninvited they come and go, — as spec- tres or friends produced by magic lanterns. Such are the effects springing up from this vast solitude that surrounds me, that I feel as if in a waking dream or state of somnambulism." '' Why, Robert, have you taken leave of your senses ?" said the startled parent, " I am really astonished; you petrify me with the apprehen- sion that your good sense has passed away be- yond redemption, and instead of making yourself useful to society in your profession, you are either thinking of imaginary beings, or conjuring up the memory of those who are no longer inhabitants of this earth. For shame ! for shame ! rouse the manly courage of your mind, and banish such ridiculous objects from your fancy. You are not deficient in sense, when inclined to make use of it. Study those authors that treat on the sciences, discipline your judgment with problems from the mathematics, but, above all, attend to your pro- fession : in the absence of active engagements, read, and be ready for the public when they de- 150 ardent; a tale mand your time and services. Take this advice, and you will no longer be haunted by such absurd ideas, or bewilder yourself in the mazes of your own morbid folly. You will then fulfil your duty to that part of society who are in need of your professional assistance." '^ What you say, my dear father, is perfectly right : I will be more courageous in future, and exercise with a better grace the principles of for- titude you recommend. It is true I have no society as yet to converse with, and, therefore, have been fain to communicate with my own fanciefs, which have sometimes assumed such vagaries, that hav- ing no one to interrupt my ti'ain of thinking, my imagination, once heated, presented those ideal fancies that appeared real, and who, as if in com- passion to my desolate state, associated with me as a solitary, and by way of occupying ray thoughts for company. Moreover, I have held converse with myself; and again, by way of va- riety, have spoken with a loud voice, as if I had an audience, and was haranguing multitudes of men; but then this has been upon the hills, or most elevated parts of this mountainous region, at which time I have borne in memory the ora- OF WINDSOR FOREST. 151 tions of Demosthenes upon the sea-shore, and have endeavoured to deserve the applause of my fancied audience, in the same manner as Demos- thenes did, when, with pebbles in his mouth, he addressed the winds and waves on the beach, ^^ It was on yonder elevations, my dear father, that I have, with gesture, attitude, and a com- manding voice, fancied I was animating the Bri- tish legions to the charge, and fought over again the battles of Cressy, Agincourt, and Poictiers. Thus is my mind always occupied; and always on the stretch; an active principle is therein coiii- tained that will not be at rest ; day and night it experiences no alteration ; I cannot divest myself of memory, or unlearn that which I have learned ; while some snore on their beds of down, I review the actions of the past, and bestow commendation with liberal applause on those worthy beings who have enlivened the human pilgrimage with their noble actions, and created by their ingenuity and wisdom another world, the. world of mind, which consists in amusing and instructing their fellow creatures who have not the same opportunity of learning or acquiring that information which is so freely and willingly bestowed by those more experienced. 152 ardent; a tale *' In my utmost distress, my dear father, I call upon your name, and that of all my family. I take up a serious book ; I read and supplicate Divine Providence for his assistance during my sojourn in this world; I then lay it down, and commune by meditation with those who are no more on earth. I fortify my mind with all the philosophy of reason I am capable of bringing forward ; but, alas ! reason is too weak a defence in soHtude, My servant waits upon me, it is true, but she appears horror-stricken as well as myself; she is fearful of remaining alone. It is then I assume courage, and do all I can to com- fort the afflicted by preaching patience. And now, my dear father, you know the occasion of my setting out. I could no longer endure my own thoughts, for they distract me more than I could have thought possible under any circum- stances." " I sympathize with you, my son ; I have occa- sionally suffered under their influence, as all men must at times who have active minds, especially when their attention is not engaged by useful objects, or considerations worthy of men and human beings. We have all our destinies to OF WINDSOR FOREST. 153 fulfil, and you will find that you are merely suflfering under a temporary abstraction of the mind, which will wear off, and you will become yourself again, happy in the love and affection of some worthy person, possibly a young lady who I have heard of, and who appears every way suit- able to make you an excellent wife. You will then no longer suffer gloom, melancholy, and despon- dency, but, with your prattlers around you, will forget such chimeras as these, the visions of a too productive imagination, and which should be banished by the judgment, as destructive of pre- sent peace, and, if indulged in, will forebode future infelicity. " Tranquillize yourself, my son, and be no longer a prey to ideal fancies ; ^ suflScient to the day is the evil thereof;' do not make that world worse which in itself requires sometimes all our fortitude to brave and compete with successfully ; it requires also the principles of rectitude, manly honour, and a vigorous repulsion of those ideal fancies which would undermine your peace. Be tranquil and composed, place your reliance on Divine Provi- dence, and all will yet be well. Doubtless, you will have sufficient practice in your profession, h5 154 ARDENT ; A TALE which will insure you prosperity, and it will be your own fault if you are not then content. ^^ You have been accustomed to an active life, and now you cease to be in full employment you suffer your mind to prey upon itself, and thus arise those visionary objects that have occupied your thoughts — let me hear no more of them ; practise self-denial more completely, exercise your useful faculties to the standard of your abilities, and all will be well. I hear you spoken of frequently, and there are many who wish you success." '' This, my dear father, sounds like consolation indeed. I will be more firm -, you shall no longer hear me complain of the weakness of an unoccupied mind; I will be active; I will ride, walk, exert myself, be no longer a man vapoured by solitude, but with firmer nerves meet the impending diflS- culties incident to my situation.'* *^ That was spoken like yourself; and remem- ber, it is only from firm minds, when well directed, the public are more especially benefitted. You have the imaginative faculties in a superabun- dant degree, the very exuberance of which would almost constitute a poet, which vocation, by the OF WINDSOR FOREST. 155 way, I warn you from ; and again I repeat, be firm, be yourself, endeavour to be the upright professional character, and that will secure you respect ; be industrious, and heaven will bless you with prosperity ; be virtuous, and you will be happy." With such counsel as this the father animated the mind of his son; with such a counsellor, friend, and instructor in his father, upon whom the son placed the most confiding reliance, the happiest prospects were entertained; and after some hours of mutual conversation, the father returned, pleased with his son, and the son, happy in having such a kind, good, and considerate father. 156 ardent; a tale CHAPTER IX. Young Ardent becoming more convinced that his father's judgment was correct, held the follow- ing sort of mental conversation with himself upon the subject : — Such is the force of habit, combined with my father's good counsel, that what I have thought gloomy has now, I perceive, some useful and pleasing associations worthy of my attention ; the scene around me seems brightened, and when the sun is in the meridian, the village itself appears cheerful, romantically as it is situated between two hills, the slopes of which form easy descents into it; a rivulet meanders through the village, and there is at least one respectable-looking house in the centre of this little hamlet ; a person above the middle rank, I suppose, inhabits it; I will make inquiry some day, and try to become acquainted with its inmates, whether lady, gen- tleman, or both. At the extremity of the parish I found the population as I had expected, few, but for the most part select and respectable, whom I hope to have the honour of calling my friends. A OF WINDSOR FOREST. 157 royal duke occasionally resides in the vicinity of the village. I hope I shall be fortunate, and reahze those expectations my father so fondly anticipates, and which he bids me expect ; besides, the other relatives of my family will occasionally visit me, and their conversation will tend to dissipate ennui, — May my anxious hopes be realized, and my fears groundless. . I have been introduced to two friends already, or, rather, I introduced myself, and feel amused with the anticipation of village chit-chat. The name of my elder new acquaintance is Mr. Rhy- mer, fond of poetry and the belles lettres; and one among the many productions with which he has at intervals favoured the world is the Forest Rambles, giving a pleasing description of his Majesty's hunting establishment, as it was in his youthful days. The other gentleman, a Mr. Foresight, is ten years my senior, a very worthy man ; and so, in- deed, are both. He is somewhat inchned to astrological observations and calculations in the mathematics as well as astronomy ; he is a pleas- ing conversable man, an excellent companion, and cheerful company, notwithstanding which I think I have heard there are traits of melancholy 158 ardent; a tale occasionally observable about him, which I have been told are caused by the loss of his wife, an amiable sensible woman. Such are my new friends and well-wishers, and I congratulate myself upon the advantages to be derived from their society and superior knowledge of Hfe. They are both very respectable and amiable men, live at a short distance from each other, and are tolerably com- municative. These gentlemen inform me that I have excited no small sensation in the village, that it is expected I shall prosper, and that my prospects in busi- ness give them both great pleasure, particularly as my opponent is a man not generally liked, from the irregularity of his habits, and his disgusting tippling propensities. One of these friends like- wise informed me, that a lady at the lodge had spoken well of me. I am ignorant at present who she is, not wishing to appear too curious and in- quiring, lest I may be thought impertinently inqui- sitive ; but I understand, whoever she is, she intends becoming my friend and patroness, so that I think my prospects are beginning to dawn in a somewhat promising manner. May the reality equal my friends' expectations : if it does, I shall be a happy man. OF WINDSOR FOREST. 159 CHAPTER X. Having mentioned the lady of the lodge in the last chapter, we will now proceed to describe her place of residence, as she is likely to become the friend of our hero. She lived in a very pretty house in the centre of the village, which stood back sufficiently to admit of a front court and shrubbery before it. There was a carriage-drive, in a semicircular direction, to the projecting stone portico which stood at the entrance of the house, conducting to a vestibule or interior hall. On each side of the court, and fronting this pretty retired villa, was a shrubbery of bowering trees of the richest foliage and of the most luxuriant verdure; a cedar of Lebanon waved its solemn branches at each cor- ner of the grove, as well as other tall plantation trees, such as the fir, the larch, the birch, the pine, the mountain ash, and evergreen shrubs, the various laurel tribe, together with lilach, jes- samines, roses, and many others, which gave it the 160 ARDENT ; A TALE appearance of an enchanting bower leading to the abode of a wood-nymph or Dryad, or a lady of secluded habits and religious virtues. The lady was supposed to be a widow, thirty-five years of age, and had one son about sixteen, rather wild ; but, as he had been lately articled to a very re- spectable attorney, great hopes were entertained of his becoming a steady character. It was with such pleasing prospects before his mind, Ardent congratulated himself as a lucky young man, thinking Heaven was propitious to his views of realizing the expectations and bless- ings which his father and family were so anxious he should obtain. We have thus far informed the reader of the chances of success which seemed to invite our hero to make Windsor Forest his permanent place of abode, but also to perpetuate, in the most romantic manner, that association of ideas which had already began to insinuate themselves into his mind. OF WINDSOR FOREST. 161 CHAPTER XI. We will now relate a conversation that passed between Rhymer and Foresight^ the friends of Ardent. '^ I am of opinion. Foresight," said the elder gentleman, " that our young Esculapius is hkely to become a prosperous man among us, for his present success appears to prognosticate that he will have a fortunate career. Mrs. Freelove, the lady at the lodge, has expressed herself a warm advocate in his favour, and declares that in future she will not send so far for her medical attendant." '' What you say. Rhymer, corresponds with my own thoughts upon the subject : I really think an excellent practice might be formed by diligence and application, our unfortunate friend, Drink- hard, being of such intemperate habits that he is sinking rapidly into insignificance, like a descend- ing meteor. His late wife, although a descendant of the great Lord Chancellor Bacon, had a very indifferent time with him on earth : may Heaven 162 ardent; a tale rest her soul, and repay her for all the trouble she experienced here. " There is one individual^ Mr. Rhymer, whom we have before mentioned^ our young friend must guard against, — I mean, the lady of the lodge. I know not whether his disposition is amorous : if so, I augur ill of his prospects, for there are temptations in life from which a young man can scarce refrain, and particularly in the form of a pleasing, fascinating, tempting, recluse lady, like herself, whose very sanctity and mysterious man- ner, I fear, are sufficient to insure him much dis- quiet, especially should dissimulation be concealed under the garb of religion and moral virtue. If he becomes intimate with her before I have given him reasons for being on his guard, I prognosticate he will have cause to repent it in no ordinary degree ; for where there is mystery or conceal- ment, I cannot help thinking there is an extra- ordinary occasion for secresy, or why practise it. I apprehend, that however well he may be in- formed in his profession, he is yet unacquainted with the depravity of life or the enchantment that too easily and too frequently besets a young man on his first launching into manhood." OP WINDSOR FOREST. 163 ^' I hope, my friend, your predictions are groundless: your own melancholy, I apprehend, causes you to see objects through a jaundiced medium, and your apprehensive insight into futu- rity unqualifies you to see things but through the prejudice you entertain upon these kind of sub- jects. Mrs. Freelove is very devout, and atten- tive to her church duties ; she receives the sacra- ment as constantly as it is administered, and a more truly pious woman', I think, we never had in the parish. Neither do I hear of any individual who is so universally respected by poor people ; her charities are extensive, and as women some- times make the fortunes of men, I think it is at least likely the lady will interestJierself to pro- cure him every encouragement from others, for I hear she has spoken very highly of him, and cer- tainly will take every opportunity to benefit him in this neighbourhood; besides, he is meeting with success from all quarters likely to be useful to him, and a more prosperous commencement I think he could not have well expected." '' All this may be very true," said Foresight, with an incredulous look, *^ and yet I cannot help divining or prognosticating ; and when I see him 164 ARDENT ; A TALE again, I may possibly be induced to say, as the augurs did to Caesar, * beware the ides of March,' which warning I hope he will not take as Caesar did, by neglecting it to his overthrow. This lady's friendship, if carried to excess, may be as danger- ous as the poet's fable Circe's and Calypso's to have been ; and should he not have the penetra- tion of a Mentor, or the serpent-like wisdom of Ulysses, I much fear for our young friend Tele- machus. Now I think of it, I will become his Mentor, and forewarn him, perhaps before the silken net is spread which may entangle him within the bowery mazes of love, enchantment, or magic influence. When I speak of enchant- ment, I mean a strong prepossession or infatua- tion, from which he will not be able to disengage himself, even if he feels inclined to recede in his acquaintance or intimacy ; and, as he is unaccus- tomed to women's society, the stronger is my presentiment of her success upon his unpractised or unguarded mind ; for she has certainly en- gaging manners, and, I suspect, not very difficult of access, especially to a young man just com- mencing the world; and if this young philosopher is caught, then good bye to discretion and atten- OF WINDSOR FOREST. ] 65 tion to his professional duties : all will be subordi- nate to her society, and his relations and friends will have cause to lament a disappointment of their fondest hopes. He is a promising youth at present, and possessed of active talent, but should there come a nipping frost it will chill his ardour, and supineness will perhaps succeed to mental energy. Unless he marries early, there are many chances against his success, as he is unsuspicious of the ways of the world, and unconscious of its duplicity. Was he otherwise, I should make myself easy as to the consequences of his ac- quaintance with this prepossessing woman, whom some consider to be enveloped in a cloud of mys- tery; but this is only a private whisper. She is visited by respectable people, which would imply she is a respectable woman, and all I could say would, perhaps, not outweigh the balance of a straw in the eyes of Ardent. Many are strongly prepossessed in her favour, and the poorer classes of people fairly idolize her, and style her Lady Freelove, a mark of distinction they do not give to every lady in the village. Whether all this is caused by her beauty, her charities, or her man- ner of performing acts of kindnesses, I know not, 166 ARDENT ; A TALE but still there is a something I cannot develop.e. However, she is the idol of the village, and all the people, as I before remarked, are ready to worship her, particularly poor people, who would, I fancy, kneel at her shrine and offer up their prayers to her benevolence, with more zealous piety than actuates the Roman Catholic poor to pray at the shrine of the Virgin at Loretto, or elsewhere. Even the Reverend Dr. AUworthy says she is a very pious woman, and the most devout in the parish, and such praise from a clergyman of the Church of England is of no small importance to her respectability ; indeed, it is highly in her favour that the Doctor thinks well of her, or, like another Parson Adams, he would soon make a bustle in the parish and create no small disturbance, if he thought there was any thing improper ; and yet, with all these circum- stances in her favour, I cannot help entertaining a suspicion that she is not all she appears to be, although I have endeavoured for the last five years to solve the mystery, and still am baffled. That there is a mystery I have no doubt, but wherein it consists I do not know ; time, perhaps^ will discover ; perchance this young man is des- OF WINDSOR FOREST. 167 tined by Divine Providence to fathom the secret^ for especial purposes inexpHcable to be accounted for at the present time, and if such should be the fact, I apprehend he may prove her overthrow ; and God grant his own may not be involved in it. If she is a woman of art and he a man of principle, you may as well expect the sun and moon to form a junction, as that honesty and dishonesty will coalesce and produce permanent friendship." Rhymer smiled at the dark picture his friend had drawn. " I cannot help thinking, friend Foresight," said he, " that you see things through too sombre a medium, and if all the world were like you, there would be imany ladies suffering under the lash of censure ; celibacy, espe- cially, would be suspected, and few would have credit for leading moral lives ; depravity and integrity would divide the opinion of the world, each taking the half, the married ladies on one side, and the maidens and widows on the other. Was society in this state of uncertainty, which, happily, it is not, a man would be puzzled indeed to meet with a partner for life suitable to his wishes. To do the young ladies justice, they do not often give the young men unnecessary trouble 168 ARDENT ; A TALE to find them out, and seldom or never, as this lady professes to do, secluded as she is within the bowers of her pleasure-grounds and hidden retreats. I must remark, the retired life she leads is a proof of her sanctity, and seclusion from the world for the purposes of devotion, rather than for the carrying on an intercourse or correspond- ence with the opposite sex." '' Your argument may be true, friend ; devotion and beauty may be blended, and were they always so, perhaps less misery and mischief would occur throughout the world ; and did honour and virtue influence the male part of the creation, we should less frequently hear of the Grand Signior, and other potentates and marauders of distant pro- vinces, ravaging the countries of Georgia for fair Circassian women and the beauties of different climes, to fill their harems or houses for mistress- keeping, by such acts resembling the feudal and barbarous ages of the world, when licentiousness was the usual practice of the east; and now, I fear, too unhappily for our wives and daughters, it is extending to this country, becoming not only pernicious to society in its practice, but conta- gious in its example, requiring, as I conceive, a OF WINDSOR FOREST. 169 powerful pen, armed with the sharpest satire, to control and keep within the bounds of common decency; lest those dear to us should become injured by the pestilential atmosphere, when resid- ing near such dangerous syrens. All this makes me apprehensive on young Ardent's account, as I have a presentiment of his want of suspicion, and firm belief in the integrity of human nature. Under this conviction, I cannot but do as the augurs did to Caesar, forewarn him to be on his guard; although,- to be really safe, in my opinion he must fly or shun what I fear she will prove to be, a voluptuous woman. It is far better tiiat he should not encounter her charms of mind and person, or, in other words, her seductive mellow tones, which may be compared to softest music, whose witching notes lure the unwary listener to his destruction." '^ Ha, ha! Foresight, you are not only astro- nomical, but astrological, and even poetically wise. You seem to take an unusual warm interest in this young man ; now I, that have been longer in the world than yourself, give them both credit beforehand for greater discretion than you seem willing to allow them. In the first place, the lady VOL. I. I 170 ARDENT ; A TALE is strictly virtuous, or, at least, has every appear- ance of being so, and this young man the same ; therefore, I am inclined to predict they will be mutual friends and nothing more, and should they become lovers, why, in all likelihood, they will marry, and your fears be ended in what I hope would prove a happy union. Such speculations, you know, are always tolerated in village gossip; it is one of the amusements of the place, and scandal will hold its ground when we are no lon- ger in being, especially as this lady is generally supposed to be possessed of a secret almost as mysterious as Blue Beard's, which she conceals like a hidden treasure, while all are endeavour- ing to find out in what it consists, and why she keeps it so carefully from the world. You your- self, Mr. Foresight, acknowledge you have been endeavouring to find it out for at least five years, — in fact, from the time she first came to live in this romantic forest, and as you have not yet made the discovery, I would, if I were you, abandon the search, as well as the hope of ever arriving at the knowledge of the mystery you seem to think is so unaccountably hid, either about her person or premises. I think I may venture to predict, that OF WINDSOn FOREST. 171 it consists not in gold or a casket of jewels; and as to the milder virtues, all are of the opinion she possesses them in a superior degree, so that I think this young man runs less hazard than you seem to forebode ; in fact, it is taking the ill-na- tured side of the question most completely, and you should be cautious in what you say of this lady's fame and character to a stranger, lest in taking the bull by the horns you may entangle yourself in some law process for the unnecessary attack. In such case, you would be called upon for sufficient cause for so doing, and in the event of your failing, judgment would be awarded against you, or in case of non-attendance, judg- ment w^ould go by default, and you would be cast in heavy damages. A woman's character is of inestimable value; therefore let us be cautious, my friend, how we tarnish, even by the slightest breath, the lustre of this lady, of whom we know nothing more than that she is a recluse, and, as we have heard, religious, perhaps like another Eloisa in the convent of the Paraclete." " Your reasoning is ingenious, friend Rhymer, and a more able advocate the lady need not re- quire, either in defence of her past virtues or pre- i2 172 ardent; a tale sent mysteries; still I must say that T, in company with many others, would like to fathom the mys- tery very much, which, if I am not mistaken, will fall to the lot of this young man to unravel, or so near it as to make it easier for others to solve than a mathematical problem in Euclid. Time, that great discloser of all secrets, will discover even- tually whether there is a mystery or not, of which in my own mind I have no doubt. But whether she is immaculate now, and religion her only object for retiring, for the purpose of uninter- rupted devotion, I cannot pretend to say; perhaps the seductive world has too many allurements, and she thus shuns the better to avoid them, thinking it more prudent to fly rather than en- counter their fascinating influence, and not trust- ing too much to her own strength, but like the timid doe, fly to the green-wood shades the better to secure her modesty." '' Now, my friend, you are disposed to be face- tious, and appear amused in thus trifling with a lady's fair fame and moral character, while I, as a friend of the sex, must declare myself their champion and make common cause against you, as an individual who requires extraordinary OF WINDSOR FOREST. 173 opportunities of being convinced before you will think favourably of a lady who, to say the least, has done you no injury ; therefore, my friend, in common charity, as a part of the Christian vir- tues, you should have refrained from these com- ments before any one, and still more myself, the espouser of her fair fame and reputation. If you are disposed to be censorious and judge ill of the sex in general, or of this lady in particular, I would advise you to be cautious in your commu- nication with Mr. Ardent, who, although almost a stranger to us at the present time, may be a warm defender of moral virtue, and an abler champion in the cause of the sex. Therefore, be cautious, my friend, nor instil that poison of sus- picion into the young man's mind that may lead to discord and personal hostilities ; for women, amiable and prepossessing as they are, have set a world in arms, fired cities, desolated provinces, ruined kingdoms, enslaved nations, and been the cause of emancipation and slavery to thousands, — nay, hundreds of thousands, as well as engen- dered discord and the sterner vices, by demora- lizing kingdoms, overturning empires, leading captive kings and princes of the land, and chained 174 ardent; a tale even warriors themselves to their chariot-wheels. Remember the laurels that have frequently been prostrated at their feet, and which they have trampled on ; remember, also, the mischiefs Thais did when she influenced Alexander to fire Persepolis : in this mad freak Thais led the van, while Alexander followed and completed the destruction this Bacchante had planned.'* '^ Ah, Rhymer, you are too cautious, or rather inclined to be too timid, in not wishing Ardent to be informed of the risk he is about to encounter in becoming the friend of the lady of whom we know so little, and that little of a suspicious nature. As a patient only I should have no fear, but as a friend or too frequent visitor I apprehend the worst that can befall him, and fear the conse- quences may end in the ruin of one or both of them. It is a painful task, I admit ; still my duty informs me I should not be acting honourably in omitting to inform this young stranger of the seductive influence certain kinds of women have over the more manly virtues of the opposite sex, and which, by their ill consequences, sow those difficulties which are frequently the consequence of falling into the snares of the dissolute. I am OF WINDSOR FOREST. 175 not arguing now, my friend — at least, I do not mean to insinuate, this lady is a wanton ; by no means; that is more than I can prove. I only wish him not to attempt the proving it, lest it may be attended with the same inconvenience to him as the forbidden apple was to our mother Eve. What we know or even suspect at the present time, may be the least of the mischief, and, as I am appre- hensive of the worst happening that can happen, you must excuse me if I give such intimation as I may think necessary ; for, at least, we should not let him rush blindfold into the snare, if there is one, and if there is not, my caution can do no harm, I fear the lady is of that class that too often eludes suspicion, or why so mysterious? The most dan- gerous frequently practise the outward semblance of virtue, and by their specious appearance of rectitude, entangle the unwary more securely: like the wily fowler with his call-bird, the silly birds fly to the aid of the supposed distressed one, and are themselves caught in the fowler's net. Moreover, I cannot help having a suspicion of those shady walks and Elysian bowers, which are such assistants to seduction; but this must be only whispered, for I am not so outrageous a 176 ardent; a tale champion of virtue as to wish to become conspi- cuous. What I can say in a friendly way, as half serious and half in jest, I will, so that he may take me in either sense, and by that means I shall leave myself a loop-hole for escape should it be necessary to recede, for many an expert general, before he engages with the enemy and previous to the risk of the battle, looks behind him to see to where he can escape, and how and by what means. Such is the nature of business in military life, and such is the business of political life, and should be also that of moral, or at the least of prudent life. A very little power will stay a mill-stone when on a level, but when once placed on the descent of a steep hill, what single human power could stop it : such I augur of the human passions once let loose." " Very true. Foresight; but I understand he has a sovereign contempt for the passion of love, and never having felt its influence, ridicules those agreeable torments you and I have felt ; but his time will come, no doubt, although, perhaps, he may not be affected to that degree you appre- hend, for I rely upon his good sense and know- ledge of human nature in general, if not experi- mentally or practically, at least, theoretically." OF WINDSOR FOREST. 177 " The argument your advance, my friend, in proof of the power of philosophy and reason over the passions of young men, and especially young men of unassuming manners and conduct in life, I admit to a certain degree ; but then I have heard that he has comparatively led a life of seclusion in famihes of retired habits, and while in the metropolis devoted himself with such extra- ordinary assiduity to the study of his profession, as scarce sufficed for his meals, or even rest, breakfasting at six o'clock in the morning, and frequently not dining until nine o'clock in the evening, when the fatigues of the day were at an end. Such incessant apphcation left but small room for the softer passions, but now he is more at leisure, or occasionally so, I fear for him, at least for his peace of mind, for who can be so bold as to give more than a hint that within certain bowers, cool recesses, and umbrageous walks, may lurk a wily serpent ; and as Adam lost Paradise through eating of the forbidden fruit, I fear lest the lady of these bowers should prove another Eve, and be fatal to the peace of our young friend's mind, and eventually the ruin of his fortunes.'* i5 178 ardent; a tale *^ Allegorically, then, I am to understand from your oraculous and amusing conversation, that the young man has to apprehend a snake in the grass, and those breezes that blow perfumes, and that incense that ascends on high from the altar of love, as well as nectar and ambrosia which flows from the goblet's brim, all combined with the banquet which is crowned with mirth, are truly perilous adventures for a young man to encoun- ter, especially when accompanied with the mildest graces and the softest love. But, to be serious, a lady's fame, as we before observed, is as a fair and fragile flower, which requires very delicate handling ; therefore, too much should not be said to a stranger, — at least, not more than is barely necessary to awaken suspicion, and, consequently, caution. At present he is above suspicion, judging every one by himself, not unusual with young men of good moral conduct, who are unpractised in the ways of a seductive world. But really. Fore- sight, in opposition to your opinion, I think there is no danger ; perhaps, the whole sex may be in- different to him, and he may say, as the sage said of old, ' all is vanity and vexation of spirit.'" *^ But this was after the proofs, Mr. Rhymer, OP WINDSOR FOREST. 179 and not in the hey-day of prosperity, impetuosity, and tumult of the passions ; no, for had Telema- chus himself been experienced, he would not have required a Mentor, and was Ardent hack- neyed in the ways of the world, I should be under no apprehension on his account." *^ Well, well, the spring is advancing, the month of March will soon be at an end, and your predic- tion, Mr. Foresight, of the ides of March, with their awful portent, will not avail your j^^otege, who, if he should, like Caesar, neglect the caution, would feel within his breast not only one dagger, as that would be unpoetical, but a host of daggers, darts, javelins, and arrows out of number, from the bright eyes of a beautiful woman. O, ye gods ! what numbers would glory in being so slain and dying such an enviable death ; poor unfortunate fellow ! to be the victim of such eyes, and have no other enemy than the little god Cupid ! By all the powers and smiles of Venus, and by every thing else the creative fancy can imagine, our conversation is assuming a kind of ludicrous, burlesque, and even comic descrip- tion of the passion of love ; indeed, a sort of melo- drama that, orevious to the following announce- 180 ardent; a tale ment^ should be submitted to the Lord Chamber- lain for his approbation : — ** ' Some evening will be performed, in this village, the dreadful tragedy of She Stoops to Conquer; but either by stooping too low or too suddenly, fell headlong with her lover to the Lord knows where.' " ''You may jest, my merry neighbour, but really I see things with a rather more inauspicious, and, I fear, a truer eye than yourself. I wish you to understand that I give them both credit for good sense, w^ith some qualified limitations, as well as many virtues, which portion of good sense and virtue wall bring them into conversation, when a union of sentiment will naturally follow — and what then ? Why, it will then be proved who has the most principle, and which ever that may be will finally triumph over the other. But that triumph will be so dearly purchased that I fear it will con- tain the seeds of his or her own ruin, which may, perchance, prove a tragedy indeed, from the angry feelings that will stimulate them to revenge on each other those misfortunes which usually follow in the train of unlicensed love. This is on the supposition they should be so unfortunate as to OF WINDSOR FOREST. 181 fall into the snares which too frequently beset lovers of strong passions and unrestrained actions, but which, if exerted in a better cause, might be useful in assisting to promote public happiness and private virtue." *' Upon my word, friend Foresight, I begin to think you have the best of the argument, for your reasoning appears the strongest; but that the pro- phecy may be averted from them both is my most fervent wish, in which I have no doubt you heartily concur." " Our conversation, Mr. Rhymer, has on the whole partaken more of the character of a moral lecture than a light discourse. — May Heaven, in its mercy to mortals, save this young man from being overthrown, and may its protecting care extend also the lady we have been so thoughtfully discoursing upon, that she may receive no evil, either from her own indiscretion, or from that of any other person." " Amen, Foresight; yet I cannot help thinking that the simplicity of this young man's character must be very extraordinary indeed, if he can feel the force of woman's charms to so great a degree as you apprehend." l82 ardent; a tale " Perhaps it is so, and in that simplicity he will not be singular, for was not great Caesar in- fatuated, and did not Mark Antony lose the world ? the same woman making simpletons of both." " Very true ; but I think better of this lady than the one you speak of, and it is but fair that she should have some defender, even in a private conversation like ours. In the first place, she is charitable to a degree that you cannot deny." '^Granted; but then the more dangerous on that account, as she will subdue by her apparent simplicity and kindness. Charity, you know, it is said, covers a multitude of sins." " Well, sceptic, then she is his senior in age at least ten years; and is now arrived at that time of life when the softest of passions may be supposed to have subsided in the female breast." " Ah! my too confident friend, in answer to that, I can tell you, it has been said that his pre- sent Majesty's eldest son, the Prince of Wales, inquired of an elderly lady (who, if I recollect, was ninety years of age), in a ball-room, when the passion of love yielded its influence over the female heart? The lady, who was of distinction, OF WINDSOR FOREST. 183 being no other than the Duchess of , re- plied, that ' she begged leave to refer the prince to the Duchess of , an older lady than herself, for she was incompetent to determine, never having yet felt a wish to retire from the court and service of Cupid. Therefore, my friend, the lady being his superior in age by a few years, assists not your argument, for she is now arrived at that age when Cleopatra made Mark Antony feel the full force of her witching charms. And, moreover, she reports herself to be a widow. Was she of his own age, my fear would be less, his own prudence would then be his safeguard ; but, as it is, she will not attempt to undormine the ground-work of religion, morals, or virtue all at once, as that would refute her own designs No, no: if I suspect aright, she is ambitious of levying a tribute of admiration, and the more difficulty she experiences the greater will be her assiduity; until the moment arrives when she caa say, he is mine. His mind once bent in that direction, and he believes her a goddess, she will throw off the mask, and treat him as Circe did her unfortunate votaries." " I think better, Mr. Foresight, of the ladv in 184 ardent; a tale question, for, as I before remarked, she is idolized by the poor and visited by some respectable peo- ple, who, if they thought ill of her, would not countenance her; besides, I have seen the car- riage of Mrs. Flowers at her door, and she, you know, is a very respectable married lady, and so is Mrs. Goodwill, another of her visitors, and widow of the late clergyman ; therefore, I still think there is no impropriety in her, or they would have discovered it, and shunned her accordingly." " Well, my charitable neighbour, for all this, I cannot help fearing the worst, and will accordingly bid him beware, for great Caesar fell by neglect- ing the augurs' prediction respecting the Ides of March." OF WINDSOR FOREST. 185 CHAPTER XII. Shortly after the foregoing conversation. Ardent called at the house of his well-wishins^ friend and intended adviser, Mr. Foresight, where, after the usual compliments, prelimina- ries, and ceremonies had passed between them, the following conversation was commenced by the prognosticating gentleman : — '^ Well, my young friend, you have called very opportunely, for I much wished to see you re- specting some rules for your conduct and observ- ance, which I mean to give you, and which I hope you will not consider as impertinent on my part, but take as a well-meant caution from one who has lived longer in this deceitful and troublesome world than yourself, and consequently somewhat fitted by experience to recommend caution, where, to your unsuspicious mind, it may appear unnecessary. But, to begin ; how like you the vil- lage you have chosen for a residence? I hope it 186 ARDENT ; A TALE has not disappointed your hopes and expectations in the way it did mine." " Disappointed you, my good sir/' said Ardent, at the same time wondering at his friend's myste- rious prelude. '^ Yes, my young friend ; and, to confess a painful truth, I am suffering from the effects of my own precipitancy and want of proper consi- deration. It was accident first brought me ac- quainted with this village, the appearance of which, like many others of equally moderate pre- tensions to beauty and convenience, was much improved in appearance by a beautiful summer's day; besides which, my heart was then light, buoyant, and glowing with impatience to be united to a much-loved and amiable woman. I purchased this house and premises without further consider- ation; then married, and brought her to this place as her future home ; but the sunshine was not perpetual, and I soon discovered that I had been too precipitate in my choice of a residence ; my amiable wife, too, never liked the place, although she generously forebore to murmur and complain, lest she should add to that gloom and melancholy which she too plainly saw began to oppress me ; OF WINDSOR FOREST. 187 and, indeed, how could it be otherwise? The mind is too apt to receive a tinge from surround- ing objects ; and who can look with a light heart and untired eye on the vast expanse of heath and forest lands, which extends for miles, and which serves but to remind me of the primitive ages of the world, when all was waste wilderness and desart, untutored and uncultivated by the hand of man, who was then as wild and savage as the earth on which he trod. Such a wild unvarying scene was not likely to engender aught but som- bre ideas, and I accordingly became dejected and spiritless, which my amiable and aifectionate wife observing, endeavoured to dispel by soothing attention and kindness ; and to her vivacity and cheerfulness was I indebted for not giving way to despair, as well for getting somewhat more recon- ciled to a place which my own want of reflection had bound me to. But there was yet a much greater affliction in store for me: I lost this valuable woman, who had so often cheered me and sustained me during the stormy gales which usually beset the passenger through this world. And when I lost her, I felt that all hopes of future sunny days were lost to me for ever ; therefore. 188 ardent; a tale to help dispel the painful hours caused by the vacuities of the heart and mind, I have endea- voured to amuse myself with studying astronomy; and (you may smile, ray young friend) astrology, too, forms part of my amusements. I tell you this by way of accounting to you for the some- what necromantic furniture of my room, with its globes, astrolobes, &c., which I observed caught your eye on first entering; and now, with an apo- logy for this digression, let me resume my ques- tion of what you think of this village?" '' Really, my good sir, I am an inhabitant of so recent a date, that I can scarcely be considered a competent judge of its agreeables or disagree- ables ; at the same time I freely confess, that the first effect it had on my imagination fell little short of the gloomy horrors you experienced, and not having the good fortune to be blessed with an af- fectionate wife, whose cheerful vivacity and pleas- ing company would have tended to dispel my dis- mal solitude, I think I may say my situation was even more irksome than your own. Having natu- rally an active mind, I felt the gloom and solitude into which I had just entered almost insupport- able ; and, for want of other companions, I was OF WINDSOR FOREST. 189 fain to commune with my own thoughts, which I must sav were not alwavs of the most a^rreeable or even rational kind, but extravagant to a de- gree. The fancy, being uninterrupted, wandered through boundless regions, and invoked or con- jured up beings which either never had existence, or had ceased to exist for ages past. Indeed, such was the uncontrolled state of my imagination, over which gloom had certainly the greatest pre- ponderancy, that, fancying myself unable to en- dure it longer, I was about to repair to my father, to declare my inability of living longer in such a state of dismal irksome solitude, when, just as I was about to depart for that purpose, my father himself arrived, to inquire after my welfare; I then unbosomed the anguish of mind, which he kindly and patiently listened to, and after mildly expostulating with me for suffering my mind to be so overcome by imaginary evils, he wisely coun- selled me to employ it better by useful stud\-, until my professional pursuits would fully occupy my active disposition. The unburdening of my griefs partly assisted to relieve them, and feeling- convinced of the wisdom of my father's counsel, I resolved to follow it. To aid my good resolutions, 190 ardent; a tale the season advanced, and with it such bright and beautiful weather, that made even soUtude and wilderness delightful. I quickly recovered my oppressed and drooping spirits, when no longer troubled with the vagaries of an uncontrolled ima- gination ; I became calm and contented, and judgment and reason expelling wild and wander- ing fancy from her seat, I am become as you now see, tolerably reconciled to my once uncomfort- able residence." " I congratulate you, my young friend, upon your philosophic accommodation to circum- stances ; and as you seem so prepared to be pleased with nature's works, allow me to ask you if the fairest part of the creation, the softer sex, excites your admiration as much as other objects, which are usually less attractive to a gentleman of your age and apparent constitution. If you apologize for nature in her somewhat ungracious aspects, what enthusiasm may you not feel in the contemplation of virtue and loveliness, and parti- cularly should you find it in a region where there is little else to attract, or other objects to divert the attention. Here the risk you run is from the tedious monotony by which you are surrounded. OF WINDSOR FOREST. 191 which may fatigue and disgust by its unvarying scene. By the way, have you as yet conversed with any of the ladies of our village, particularly the lady styled the beautiful widow, who resides at the white house, called the Lodge ? But per- haps I am putting an impertinent question, or one which may to you, as a medical character, appear in a questionable shape. I had forgot that there may be some delicacy involved in my question; if so, I beg to apologize, and request permission to recall it." ** To relieve your sensitive apprehension, my good sir, I can assure you your question has not committed any breach of decorum or delicacy ; and I can answer it by confessing that I have con- versed with the lady you speak of, and very recently, too ; indeed, so late as last evening, I received a summons to attend at the lady's house, to see the young gentleman, her son, who has a trifling indisposition." '^ Indeed! then perhaps you will be kind enough to give me your opinion of the lady and her son ; there has been some difference in opi- nion as to her personal appearance, some consi- dering her beautiful, others merely pretty ; but 192 ardExVt; a tale all allow her to be the divinity of our village. The poor speak of her with unbounded applause; indeed, they almost worship her, for she is so charitable and attentive to their necessities, that it would be a profanation, in their opinion, to doubt for a moment the motive for such extraor- dinary benefactions." '^ Doubt, Mr. Foresight! what doubt can there be ? for what other motive can actuate her but the grandest of all principles — that of affording relief to suffering human nature ? for, as humanity and fellow-feeling for the miseries of others are the first of all impulses in a noble mind, in like man- ner the gratitude of the poor is commensurate with so exalted a virtue." ^^ Bravo, young sir: I fmd the lady has a power- ful partisan in yourself, to assist and direct the channel of her bounty. You will certainly, in due time, become her grand almoner." "No bad office, my good sir, although it is possible the poor would rather receive it from her own fair hand, which gives an additional grace and value to the benefaction. Very few are crifted by divine Providence with the inclination to make others happy, which is, as I have heard, OF WINDSOR FOREST. 193 this lady's peculiar attribute; and her chief source of happiness is in bestowing aid upon the help- less, the miserable, and the necessitous." '^Why, you are quite an enthusiast in the commendation of charity ; and its being bestowed by a fair hand exalts the merit, in your opinion, of the benefaction, if not of the benefactress." ** I confess, innocence, charity, and the graces combined, form, in my estimation, Mr. Foresight, a perfect character." '' Well, well, you are an inexperienced young man, and, like many others of your age, you judge of things by their appearance, and think there can be no room to entertain a doubt of the motives and impulses to generosity, particularly from this lady's popular manner of bestowing rewards. I think, if I understand you rightly, a fi^ir and pretty face and form, dispensing charities, bestow an additional lustre and purity on the benevolent principle, inasmuch as it is somewhat rare for beautiful and delicate ladies to seek out squalid poverty and wretchedness, that they may personally bestow on them the necessary means of relief." " Nay, worthy sir, I mean not exclusively to VOL. I. K 194 ardent; a tale extol and commend the beauteous form or softer sex, in the disbursement of charity. Virtue in any being is amiable, and charity to the poor the same; and whatever may be the exterior, the principle is worthy of high commendation, so long as it contains the sparkling virtues of benevolence and humanity, which bestows its blessings upon thousands,-^nay, millions of human beings; as, for instance, an act of Parliament, emanating from the patriotic virtues of a statesman, as to the necessity of declaring peace or war, and blood- shed. The first gives plenty, even superabun- dance to nations, while the reverse annihilates the poor man's cottage and all that are contained therein ; even wives and husbands, fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, are all overwhelmed in the general ruin." *' Well, Mr. Ardent, and what think you of the young man you saw last evening, Mrs. Freelove's son ? did he make the same favourable impression on you as the lady ?" " Why, really, he has the appearance of being a modest and sensible young man ; but it is im- possible to form a judgment from so trifling an acquaintance." OF WINDSOR FOREST. 195 " But you have not told me yet, what were your expectations and ideas previous to seeing the lady, or whetlier they were realized or surpassed after your introduction to her," *' Why, I confess, my good sir, I had heard so much in praise of the lady we have been speaking of, that my curiosity was greatly excited, and it was my particular wish to have an opportunity of a personal conference and interview." " In which you were gratified, and, I can imagine, much to your satisfaction. Was it not?" ** Why, yes ; altogether, very much so ; and if it would not be deemed too great an intrusion, I should certainly request you to inform me of a^' you know concerning her. But perhaps I am evincing an impertinent curiosity." " O, not at all. I see we shall understand each other better presently ; and, by way of easing or diminishing your scruples, I can tell you I have as great a wish to communicate as you can have to listen to what little I know of this lady's history, and the mystery that certainly sur- rounds her." ** I very much wished to see you before your introduction to her house, to have given you my k2 196 ardent; a tale counsel and opinion in an open, candid, and im- partial manner, at the same time wishing plainly to be understood, that as far as my personal know- ledge of her extends, I cannot certify anything in particular respecting her. The reports in cir- culation are of various descriptions, but we shall come to them presently : as far as I know, she may be everything that is correct and perfect ; at all events, she is very affable and engaging in her conversation, and certainly possesses many good traits of character ; so, let the world be ever so censorious, it cannot deny that she is possessed of much good-nature. She has lived in this village the last five years, yet no one knows any thing definite respecting her, with the excep- tion of her charities, which are spoken of by all, who allow her to be a perfect paragon in this way; her bounty is so considerable, as to imply she must have a very liberal income to sustain it. And with the means of doing good, she fortu- nately possesses the will. But what appears to me so strange and perplexing, is. the incognito she observes and perseveres in, with as much secrecy as if her life depended on it. She does not keep a great deal of company, and her house OF WINDSOR FOREST. 197 is a perfect pattern for neatness and elegance ; while she herself appears to be happy, which would imply she is not a vicious character. But then, again, why be mysterious, if there is nothing to conceal?" ^' It is really very surprising, Mr. Foresight; possibly she has been crossed in love, or what is worse, may have been deprived by death of a much-loved husband, whose loss has probably determined her to retire from the gay and busy scenes of the world, that she may lead a life of seclusion and devotion to his memory. Her mo- tives are most likely correct, or her conscience would not allow of her apparent tranquillity." " I wish it may be so ; but the retired and peculiar manner in which she lives, gives many people scope for conversation, and even excites strange suspicions, but none can penetrate the veil or dive into the mysterious cause of her seclusion. I have certainly heard of various strange reports in circulation respecting her, although she conducts herself with much appa- rent propriety, — regularly attending church twice on a Sunday, and receiving the sacrament when- ever it is there administered. By her generosity, 198 ARDENT ; A TALE I should scarcely conceive she is what the world calls a kept mistress, as her income appears too liberal for that situation in life." " Nay, Mr. Foresight, heaven forbid so lovely a being should belong to so unfortunate a class ; indeed, I will not allow myself to suppose for a moment that she does ; for had she been anything of that description, she certainly could not have made so favourable an impression on my mind. There is something indescribably pretty about her, — indeed, a something I do not fully compre- hend, nor can I exactly explain ; but this I know, that she looked rather like the sister than the mother of the young man, her son. Indeed, she struck my imagination as being a bewitching, prepossessing, infatuating woman ; certainly, such as I never saw before, and one which, to make use of a common expression, may be loved at first sight. I think I may say she appears voluptuous ; but whether it proceeds from her sex, her art, or the contrast of agreeables that, within the pre- cincts of her domain, surround her, when com- pared with the wretchedness of the dreary wastes that surround us, I will riot pretend to determine; but possibly it may arise from a combination of OF WINDSOR FOREST. 199 all, the rough and rugged wilds serving as foils to beauty and loveliness, with their attendant agree- ables. She is certainly a lovely woman, her manners are so bland and conciUating, yet withal so easy and familiar, that she impressed my mind with the idea, that the man who would wish to pay his addresses to her, would not meet with the most forcible opposition ; a half- voluptuary vo- luptuousness seems to play over her countenance and person — a kind of soft sympathetic yielding, although, perhaps, it may not be more than a disposition to a certain sociability of heart and mind. She has, besides, an open lively counte- nance, with great vivacity of manner, and appears to have the wish to impress upon the minds of her hearers and admirers that she is the happiest woman upon earth, surrounded with the choicest blessings and comforts, implying her to be the peculiar favourite of heaven. In short, it may be said she is formed to prepossess, and it is almost impossible to look upon her without being an admirer." " You are not singular, Mr. Ardent, in this opinion of her. She is allowed by all to be an infatuating and pretty woman," 200 ARDENT ; A TALE '' Not exactly infatuating, Mr. Foresight, but innocent and prepossessing. Charity and kind- ness beam from her eyes, and breathe in warmest expressions from her lips ; and sure I am they are the native inmates of her bosom. I will not be- lieve for a moment, she practises art; but, on the contrary, her manners and conversation are apparently so artless, unassuming, and free from ill-natured remarks, that I feel confident she is possessed of a large portion of the milk of human kindness." ** Mr. Ardent, you are a young man and very enthusiastic in your notions and perceptions; you are in love with the apparent virtue and amia- ble traits in this lady's character, and not being practically experienced in the ways of women, you take every thing to be as you actually see it, without doubting for a moment whether they are realities or only the counterfeits and shadows of those virtues she professes to pa- tronize and possess in so eminent a degree. At all events, be cautious, and do not take every thing for granted that you see. There is a mys- tery hangs over her ; and, indeed, if she was the phantom of Windsor Forest, she could not have OF WINDSOR FOREST. 201 excited more curiosity, — as to who she is, from whence she cair-e, &c. Such is this lady; and ?1^ we know for certainty respecting her, is that we know nothing ; it is true we see her, and occa- sionally converse with her, — all else is mystery, impenetrable mystery, which even the wisest of us cannot solve." "What, Mr. Foresight! a lady of such per- sonal beauty and accomplishments to be so sus- pected, and no knight step forward to espouse her cause, as in the ancient days of chivalry, poetry, and romance. I really believe I must declare myself her champion and true defender; and, as I plainly perceive, Mr. Foresight, you relinquish the honour of protecting the damsel in her en- chanted castle, why I cannot do otherwise than espouse her cause throughout Christendom; nay, proclaim it through the whole world, that I will breakthrough or unfold this mystery, and release the captive princess from the mischievous genii or other enchanters who hold her in thraldom by their magic powers or influence, and make the world resound with the echo of her peerless con- duct, while she was in so restrained and delicate a situation. My heart already swells with ardour, K 5 202 ■ ardent; a tale and my arm feels nerved with energy in her defence ; and as she has not hitherto met with a vindicator worthy of her honour and calculated to protect her from the violent assault and battery of evil and envious tongues, I, even I, her true knight, defy the malversations of the world, and dare all to single combat in her defence. So, sir recreant knight, if you do not acknowledge this lady to be the most peerless and immaculate on earth, and one whose virtues are of the purest brightness, you must break a lance with me in defence of your opinion ; and so I leave you to ruminate on my avowal, and, in the meantime, trust your sentiments will change, and that in future you will entertain the most exalted opinion of the sublime and transcendant virtues of this lady and of her most immaculate chastity. So adieu, sir knight, for the present." With this half-heroic and half-burlesque vaunt, Ardent left his friend. At the same time, he re- solved to reconsider in his own mind all he had heard and felt, thankful to Mr. Foresight for his timely hint, although he could not exactly com- prehend it. Sometimes he was inchned to think her innocent, and at others he conceived there OF WINDSOR FOREST. 203 must be some ground for his friend's conjectures, which he had not yet acquainted him with. At the same time, sufficient had been said to excite his curiosity in no ordinary degree, upon what appeared to him more mysterious than the riddle 9f the Sphynx ; and he was now extremely desi- rous to unravel as quickly as possible that which, up to the present time, had already cost his friend five years of unsuccessful espionage. In short. Ardent fancied that fate had led him to this romantic part of the forest, to encounter this marvellous adventure, which appeared to be w^orthy of his warm and enthusiastic imagination, and even worthy of the knights who flourished with renown in the cliivalric ages of the world. " Gone," said Mr. Foresight (after Ardent's departure), and apparently as wild as a March hare. " It is totally useless now to attempt reasoning with him, or to speak of the Ides of March. The enchantress, as if in anticipation of my intended caution, has preceded me in action, and the warnino^ that miijht have been attended with utility yesterday will be now utterly useless. He has already received that impression which it is impossible advice can eradicate. He will make 204 ARDENT ; A TALE shorter work in the discovery of this mystery than I have done; the very ardour and enthusiasm of his character will overcome obstacles that would intimidate any other man. He will either discover her to be an amiable character, or the reverse, and proclaim her accordingly. If I have any fore- knowledge of the human character, Ardent is not one to compromise his honour, integrity, or prin- ciples. The discovery of this secret will, I fear, if successful, be attended with unhappiness to both, for the probability is, she will either at- tempt to convert him to her way of thinking, or he will endeavour to reclaim her, and by this herculean attempt bring on himself innumerable evils. He is one of those eccentric characters which are now so rare in this degenerate age of licentiousness ancl immorality. He should have existed in those ages when each beauteous lady h^ a knight at her devotion ; he would then have had an opportunity of displaying that heroism and valour, as well as recklessness of consequences, which will now be rather a curse to himself than a blessing ; had he flourished in these times, no tilt or tournament for ladies' love would have passed without his presence in the lists to defend the OF WINDSOR FOREST. 205 peerless and iiicomoprable cbrvros of his favoi'iite f?'*^' one, against all opposers. To say the least, he has a mostex?lted opinion of woman; and, ^^I mistake not, w-'l prove to her a vpluable cham- pion, if she deserves it; but, if not, T fear he wi^^ be the severe punisher and avenger of disre- garded morality : either way, I wish he may escape the too usual effects of interference. I will still watch over him, and give him that coun- sel I think his inexperience requires, to enable him to escape from the mazy ruin which I fear he has already entered. But, however, be her mys- tery what it may, the time appears fast arriving when it will be inevitably developed, and she will either come forth from that secluded habitation with purity and innocence, or be deservedly exposed to the loudest censure. x\t all events, he is in love, and I a])prehend of the most danger- ous sort, — that of infatuation with an individual who may be unworthy of his legard. But he is so impetuous, that he did not stay to hear the remaining part of what I had to relate, but off he went, like an arrow from a bow, whether with angry feelings or not, I have yet to learn. 206 ardent; a tale CHAPTER XIIL The spring passed away, and the bright days of summer began to smile on and enhven even the wild and rugged scenery among which Ardent was placed; but he scarcely noticed the transi- tion of season, so much were his heart and mind pre-occupied with the all-engrossing idea of the infatuating widow, who had by this time encircled him but too securely in her rosy fetters ; not that he had entirely disregarded or forgotten the cau- tion given him by his friend Foresight, but had made his observations accordingly, and every thing appeared so fair and so amiable, her chari- ties so benevolent and well directed, and withal so copious, that had she lived in Catholic times, she might have been styled as one of their female saints. All this considered, he wondered how his friend Foresight could ever have entertained the slightest doubt of such rare and exemplary purity and piety. For his own part, he had begun almost to OP WINDSOR FOREST. 207 worship her, which the fair lady saw and ap- peared to delight in ; indeed, so pleased did they appear in the society of each other, that very little time was suffered to elapse before they again met. They read together, walked together, and rode on horseback together, over the heaths, wilds, and wildernesses that surrounded them; and during the short and temporary absence which elapsed between their meetings, she sent him presents of fruit and flowers, by way of keep- ing hira in constant remembrance of her. In- deed, she took all possible pains to captivate him as deeply as possible. She summoned the charms of dress to her aid, and the colours of her often- changed costume might have vied with those of Iris herself. In short, she omitted no art or fas- cination to rivet her new conquest, while he felt bewitched, bewildered, and astonished, scarcely daring to believe that heaven, in its bounty and mere}", should design one of its chief favourites on earth to bless his pilgrimage through this world. In short, it appeared to him nothing less than actual presumption, to imagine he could have inspired her with a tender regard for him ; no, it could be nothing more than that sweetness or 208 ARDENT j A Ti»^^ ag eeable mrniier so pecr^'pi* lo herself, and yet she did not appeav 'o bes'tovv so much aUenlion on any one else; indeed^ her chief time ?nd attention seemed entirely occupied by himself — that, however little vanity he might possess, he could not but at length discover that he was any thing but indifferent to her. In short, he at last concluded that their attachment was reciprocal. But so prone is the human heart to create causes of discontent even in the most joyous hours of life, that our young friend Ardent had no sooner assured himself of the sympathetic attachment of a fair lady, which but a short time previous he would have considered as the summmn boniim of his happiness and wishes, than the surmises of his friend Foresight obtruded on his imagination, and he began to fancy that the farther elucida- tion of those surmises was yet wanting to crown his felicity and content. But we will show the ideas that passed through his mind in a sort of mental conversation he held with his reason and inclinations. " Again am I summoned," said the half-be- wildered x\r dent, unconsciously uttering aloud his reverie, " to the house of this lovely, fascinat- OF WINDSOR FOREST. 209 ing, enchanting, endearing, bewitching, propos- essing, and mysterious fair one. What am I to think of the repeated messages, invitations, and presents, I receive from her? — Would I could drive the insinuations of my cautious friend from my mind, I should then be perfectly happy ; nay, perhaps too much so to be borne with : and yet why do I allow these suspicions to rob me of my tranquillity? Have I yet seen any cause to sus- pect her or think her deceitful ? — No, I cannot be- lieve that I ever shall. She appears innocence, simplicity, and benevolence personified in one fair and beautiful form. Surely, my friend himself must be deceived, and his own trials in this world have given a cynical and suspicious cast to his character; and yet he mentioned other rumours and reports, which too plainly shows that he is not singular in his suspicions ; and yet of what nature those suspicions are he appears unable to determine ; surely, she cannot be a wanton, or why the modest demeanour she assumes ? No, no ; I must not let such an idea enter my imagi- nation, for I believe it would cause me to expe- rience little less than madness ; for principle would tell me I ous^ht not then to esteem her, 310 ardent; a tale and yet so firmly I fear is my heavt enslaved, that it would break in the attempt to burst its chain. But why do I lovment myselT in Ib^s manner? My fears are certainly gioinidless, and I will endea- vour to banish them in her much-loved company. " Away, then, lurking jealousy and foul suspi- cion, for I am now going to behold that lovely countenance in which honest innocence is so plainly depicted ; in her presence dark thoughts fly away, and peace, serenity, and love take pos- session of my then untroubled mind. To behold her js to be happy, while absence creates naught but misery and suspicion. Therefore, I must now smooth my troubled brow, to appear in her pre- sence, for should she but suspect the real cause of my gloom, how would her upright and innocent heart be agonized. No, no : she must never know that I am weak enough to entertain such suspi- cions of her for a moment; indeed, I am sur- prised at it myself, and will hasten to repair the injustice by redoubling my attention towards her." OF WINDSOR FOREST. 211 CHAPTER XIV. As we have now fully iutro'Juced the principal character, Ardent, to our readers, and made them somewhat acquainted with the peculiar bent of his mind and character, it is time we should introduce to them, also, the fair cause of his per- turbations, hopes, and fears. It is true the lady, on her part, was not exactly easy in mind : she perceived that the man whom of all others she most wished to please, was of that peculiar disposition which was liable to strong and uncontrollable transitions of feeling. This dis- covery gave her pain, as she feared he would break from her on the first suspicion which might be infused into his mind by any officious meddUng person, and yet, why should she suffer such fears to annoy her, as she could truly defy the most slanderous tongue in the village and its neighbour- hood to prove aught against her; and certainly Ardent had not seen anything at all unjustifiable in her conduct : on the contrary, she had taken 212 ARDENT ; A TALE unusual pains to appear amiable in his estimation, for she perceived that his mind was as much alive and sensitive to moral worth, as it was to personal charms and beauty. She therefore resolved to be peculiarly circumspect in her conduct towards so irritable a being, and to bend the whole artillery of her fascinations for the purpose of securing him hers ; for not only was her peace of mind at stake on the event, but her reputation also, for should he take fire at any foolish suspicion his jealousy might excite, and leave her, the blister- ing tongue of slander would not fail to assail and overwhelm her with its foul host of calumnies, and make all her charities and guarded conduct of no avail. But, however, she trusted that by extreme caution she should avoid any unpleasantness of that kind, for she believed at present that his sentiments were highly, nay, enthusiastically in her favour, and it must now be her task to keep up that exalted opinion in his mind, which she had already inspired. To keep up that exalted opinion his profession would materially tend to assist, for together they could visit the distressed sick, and he would be an eye-witness of her tender manner of relieving OF WINDSOR FOREST. 21 3 their necessities, which would enable him to rebut and refute any aspersions or suspicions which the illiberal-minded may cast on her; and, indeed, when his mind once became assured of her recti- tude of principle and conduct, she felt certain that he would labour to convert to his opinions the httle world in which they resided. Indeed, that very profession which enabled him to be an eye-witness of her benevolence would also enable him to assert it in those respectable famihes where his medical avocations would lead him. Therefore, to stand fair with the world, she must first endeavour to establish herself as all but a faultless being in the opinion of this man, in whom her whole soul and thoughts were now o centered. And lest absence might cool his affec- tions, she had again sent for him, as we intimated in the last chapter ; and, therefore, we v/ill intro- duce them in propria persona to our readers, on the arrival of Ardent at the lady's mansion. *' In obedience to your commands, dearest madam," said Ardent, on entering, ^' I have done myself the honour to wait on you as early as possible, and shall feel most happy if I can be of any service to you." 214 ardent; a tale " You are very kind, Mr. Ardent, and I can only liope that I have not called you from more serious avocations." '^ By no means, madam ; I was perfectly at leisure when the messenger arrived with your summons to attend at a place which has become inexpressibly dear to me. xAnd now tell me, dear madam, in what way I can serve you; and let me hope, whatever your indisposition may be, it is but of a trifling nature." " I am obliged to you, Mr. Ardent, for your kind wishes ; but it is not myself who at present require your valuable services. I wish to ask your opinion of the propriety of giving wine to a sick infant, the child of some poor cottagers living near my grounds." " I shall be happy to assist you, madam, to the extent of my abilities in your charitable avoca- tions, which, allow me to say, I have heard spo- ken of and praised in various quarters, and the poor style you as the kind and charitable lady of the Lodge; to such encomiums 'I am always an e?ger and enthusiastic listener, and warmly repeat to others those generous actions of yours which I have beard related." OF WINDSOR FOREST. 215 " You are pleased, Mr. Ardent, to overrate the t"'ifl>ng services I occasioncilly confer on the poor and sufTe' Ing inhabitants of this village. Such services have been only to the extent of my abiH- ties, but certainly not to the extent of my wishes, for from what source can the human mind derive such pure and heartfelt pleasure as in succouring and relieving those on whom unpitying fortune has frowned? I have hilherto lamented the want of an amiable and benevolent medical practitioner^ for you have doubtless heard of the unhappy pro- pens'ii.es of our other medical attendant in the village, which propensides have utterly destroyed every finer feeling in the human mind, and ren- dered him entirely un^t for the humane and deli- cate offices in which I could otherwise have wished to consult him, respecting the poor sufferers in this vicinity ; and I am thankful to divine Provi- dence for having sent you, sir, to the aid of all classes of inhabitants in this neighbourhood, for without wishing to flatter, I trust that in you I have acquired one whose judgment is calculated, through his own inclinations as well as the honour- able and useful piofession in wh'ch he is engaged, to direct and assist me in my trifling charities." 216 ardent; a tale '^ I shall be always most happy, madam, to be a humble follower in the train of your exalted beneficence ; and while you are admired and wor- shipped as a bright ministering angel, sent down on earth to fulfil the dictates of divine Providence in this wild spot, I, as your attendant, shall derive some lustre from the bright emanations which beam forth from your celestial constellation of virtues." " Nay, my good friend, you are growing out- rageous in your panegyric, or else, I fear, are disposed to banter me on the confined scale of my charities, for you cannot suppose me to be so egregious an egotist as to fancy myself possessed of one quarter of the attributes you have so libe- rally thought proper to bestow upon me, whether from a playful design or otherwise I know not. But perhaps you will now do me the favour to accompany me on a visit to the little sufferer in question ; — it is but a short walk through my grounds to the cottage of the child's parents, and as you have frequently done me the honour to admire the style in which my pleasure-grounds and gardens are laid out, perhaps a walk through them now will not be considered a very great punishment." OF WINDSOR FOREST. 2l7 ^' Dearest madams a walk in your compan}^ would be delightful, even in the most dreary parts of our savage heaths ; what, then, must it be through your grounds, embellished, as they are, under the direction of your superior taste ; and if you will do me the honour to link your fair hand within my arm, we will, if you please, sally forth on your benevolent errand." ^' Well, then, dear sir, without further preli- minary, through this glass-door, opening on the lawn, lies our way." " And a very pretty way it is, my dear madam ; indeed, these grounds acquire new beauty each time I visit them ; I have thought them perfectly Arcadian for some time past, but I shall begin to think them paradise itself; for what can be more beautiful than these embowering laurel walks and darkened alleys, where the prying rays of the intrusive sun are not permitted to enter, while again these beautiful grassy undulations, which are more exposed to the sun's cheering influence^ are covered with a verdant carpet, which art can- not equal; then the spots selected for the erection of arbours and seats are so admirable and happily chosen, that all who behold them must acknow- VOL. I. L 218 ARDENT ; A TALE ledge the superior taste of the fair owner of this Elysian spot. Indeed, I begin to think that, had the garden of Eden been so delightful as this one of yours, Eve never could have survived her banishment from it ; therefore, I must conclude that this one has surpassed it." ^^ Admirably argued I Why, upon my word, my dear friend, I shall begin to think that, in addition to your other acquirements, you are one of the ablest logicians of your day, although I believe many would be inclined to shake their heads at your present reasoning. But now you have compared my bower to Paradise, do you intend to carry on your comparison and represent me as the Eve of the scene." '^ In person and all the milder virtues and graces of the soul, I certainly do; but you, madam, are more favoured than was poor Eve, for there is not one of the blushing or tempting fruits in your garden that you are prohibited from tasting or enjoying. Therefore, dear madam, as your garden is superior to the garden of Eden, so are you also superior to the unfortunate lady Eve — would that I were the happy Adam." *' That you, like him, might be banished, I sup- OP WINDSOR FOREST. 219 pose ; upon my word, my dear sir, I do not think I must take that for a comphment." " Yes, my dear madam; but, if you remember, that was through the httle indiscretion of Eve, and you know I have just told you, that as you are not, hke her, prohibited, so, hke her, you could not transgress; consequently, were I the happy Adam, I should not be expelled from* this dehght- ful retreat." *^ Ingeniously argued again ; and as I should but lose in debating the point with you, I will even waive it, by asking you if you do not think I ought to be tolerably happy in this retired and pleasant httle spot." " Yes, fairest lady, as happy as the queen of beauty in her Idalian groves or Paphian bowers, which delightful retreats she did not always visit without a favourite companion, usually of the opposite sex, to pass with her the delightful hours in those luxuriant scenes." ^' Quite enough, my dear sir, or you will pre- sently forget that you are in company with one who is too delicate to admit of the warm fictions of the poet ever entering into her conversation or imagination. You have said quite sufficient to con- l2 220 ARDENT ; A TALE viiice me of the poetic turn of }'Our mind; and now permit me to remind you of the object of our walk, which was to reHeve the sufferings of a poor Httle innocent; therefore, a truce for the present with your flowery compliments, and let us now attend to the sad realities of life." *^ I stand corrected, dear madam, and am ready to attend to the more exalted and powerful dic- tates of your benevolent mind; would that your virtues were less rare in this world, and that others would follow the bright example you set them. Indeed, were I to choose a model of pure philanthropy, I would name yourself, and were your humane principles more generally followed, how would the condition of the poor be amelio- rated and improved. Unfortunately, the great and wealthy too seldom bestow a thought on the poorer classes of the community, who labour for their ease, luxury, and enjoyment. Was the case reversed, how piteous would be the situation of the now rich and too frequently inconsiderate gentleman. It is my wish that each peasant in Great Britain should be presented on his mar- riage with at least an acre of land, as a dowry with his wife, at the public expense, which would OF WINDSOR FOREST. 221 assist to secure him in habits of industry, and prevent the necessity of his applying for parish rehef. A large family should have an additional acre, and the most industrious and praise-worthy a third acre, as the reward of merit. Was this course pursued throughout England, poverty would cease to exist to the extent it does in many places, and the peasant would rival his superior in happiness ; as it is, he is too much at the mercy of the times and seasons, and the accidents of life. He is the bond-slave of necessity ; he has no domestic occupation, and no inheritance he can call his own but the six feet of earth allowed him gratis at his funeral. This inattention to the comfort of poor people and the hardworking and industrious class, is rooting up by degrees the olden time of fehcity, as it existed in the days of Elizabeth. Such a state of things is unnatural: it renders the peasantry indifferent to the soil, and they may be expected ta seek other masters, more reflective upon the future consequences of such a system being much longer persisted in. The groans of millions are volcanoes : they revo- lutionize the world, first in opinion then in action. The great, though little in reflective powers, pro- duce these strange events but too frequently ," 222 ARDENT ; A TALE *^ Upon my word, Mr. Ardent, you are a per- fect Proteus in mind : one moment your imagina- tion can playfully gambol in Papbian bowers, and tbe next instant we find you holding forth as a grave moral lecturer with profound views, and which, if followed, you think would alleviate the condition of poor suffering human nature. But our variegated discourse has brought us to^ the cottage of this poor family, where I request you will for a time concentrate your attention, and inform me if wine would be admissible in the case/' They then entered the cottage, where we will for the present leave them. OF WINDSOR FOREST. 223 CHAPTER XV. The lady of the lodge, by her devoted attention to the practice of Christian charities, milder graces, and other benevolent virtues of the heart and mind, had produced a considerable sensation throughout the village ; and this popularity may have been in some degree attributed to the warm and repeated eulogiums of her devoted admirer. Ardent, who never failed, when an opportunity presented itself, of pouring forth his tribute of praise ; and, indeed, so industrious had he been in spreading his eulogiums on her whom he ima- gined to be the most exemplary pattern of purity that ever existed, that the universal report quickly reached the ears of the Reverend Doctor AUwor- thy, the then officiating clergyman of the village. This reverend divine, who was a most rigid moral character, was then about to establish a Sunday School in the village, for the general dif- fusion of knowledge, and, above all, for educating the children of the lower classes of society in the 224 ardent; a tale knowledge of religion and the duties of morality ; particularly in that most important of all duties in the reverend divine's estimation, a true knowledge of God and his commandments. Therefore, he intended to diffuse the principles of the Christian religion, to operate and counteract that general diffusion of knowledge contemplated, and so generally practised, under that indefatigable person, Joseph Lancaster, the Quaker : who had promulgated his system of teaching the rising generation by the most simple methods — as that of making figures in sand, as well as of teaching the youthful pupil the practice of writing by the same economical means ; and, in addition to the above simple plans, was that of forming classes, each well instructed boy taking upon himself the office of superintendent ; and, by this means, many could be instructed in a much shorter space of time than had ever before been invented. The system was replete with wisdom as well as with economy ; and such w as the rapidity w^ith which the institutions now called National Schools was establishing throughout England, that the Established Church also lent their beneficial aid, upon an improved principle, as was asserted— that OF WINDSOR FOREST. 225 of promulgating the gospel tenets with the diffu- sion of general information, which Lancaster in his system has entirely omitted, thinking it unim- portant, so long as instruction was conveyed ; and, perhaps, leaving the duties of religion to be inculcated by those whose province it was to promulgate those various creeds to which they severally belonged. In this wise office, responsible as prudent on the part of the clergy of the Protestant Church Establishment, was the worthy pastor of the village, the Reverend Doctor AUworthy, now engaged, in selecting a patroness for his school, to preside over the moral purity of the female department of the establishment, while he himself in person superintended that of the boys, and, in religious instruction, over both. Schools were then beo^innino^ to be established in everv village throughout England, Wales, Ireland, and Scot- land, and, since then, over many parts of Europe, Asia, and America, and bid fair to promulgate those elements of knowledge and principles that will soften and ameliorate the condition of man- kind — by purifying the human character, removing from it its ferocity and savage propensities, and l5 226 ARDENT ; A TALE conciliating it by benevolence and philanthropy, on the dictates of humanity and general sympathy. It was in this holy and most pious zeal for the glory of God and the promulgation of his com- mandments, that our worthy pastor before alluded to, namely, the Reverend Doctor Allworthy, Avas influenced : indeed, he was more than usually zealous in the cause, and his indefatigable industry knew no bounds in endeavouring to convince all within his district of the one thing needful, which was the practice of religion, founded on morals ; directly contrary, as it appears, to the papal fulminations of the court of Rome, who, by insist- ing upon the celibacy of the clergy belonging to the Catholic Church, do, in fact, tacitly, if not directly, admit, that morals are by no means a necessary part or preliminary to the foundation of religion; which was precisely the reverse of the opinions entertained by our worthy pastor in the superintendence of his flock; for, although a widower, yet was he of the most precise habits and consistent character in the village — influ- encing not more by his doctrine than by his examples, in practising the Christian virtues and extensive charities — as rebuilding the cottagers' OF WINDSOR FOREST. 227 roofs or chimneys, when blown down by the wind, or other disasters happening to those who had cottages of their own construction on the heath ; and in whom the accidents of life, either in loss of cattle or other misfortunes, was sure to excite his sympathetic attention and charitable relief. To sum up all, a more considerate, benevolent, and real genuine character of philanthropy is seldom produced, even in the Church of England, where extensive sympathy usually abounds. He may have been considered an honour to the church of which he was a member ; and may England, in her prosperity or adversity, ever abound in the like steady characters, upright in principle, integrity, honour, and virtue. So long as Christian charity abounds, humane sentiments will prevail, and the humble cottager will be regarded, not by the spoiler, the savage and ferocious seducer, but by the upholders of honour, virtue, firm integrity, and generous emu- lation in well-doing ; for without virtue in the cottage, wdsdom on the throne will avail but little. It is the sturdy veteran, nurtured when a youth under the parents* roof in firm integrity, that guards the throne of these realms — may England 22S ARDENT ; A TALE never be in want of such defenders of her honour, her glory, and her religion. It is they who are the safeguards against foreign invasion, and domestic inquietude from civil war. Animate them not to the slaughter, but let their pastors lead them forward to the hymeneal bands of mar- riage, and protect the modest maiden in her rural simplicity and innocence from the violation of the spoiler, and place not impediments to marriage beyond the reach of industry to surmount; but give every facility to the commandments of God, which bids them increase and multiply. Say not we are too full of poor people — how is it so, when all wealth originated with poor people, from human labour and from human toil ? The great have what they have ; their fathers worked not — how came their riches, then, but by commanding those who performed the drudgery of the earth ? OP WINDSOR FOREST. 229 CHAPTER XVI. Several months had elapsed since Ardent had taken up his abode in the Forest, at the com- mencement of which his mind had been so dis- turbed by the freaks of his imagination in its creations of wild illusions and phantasies, which rendered his life dreary and irksome ; unaccus- tomed as he had always been to solitude, having been hitherto engaged in active life. The scenery among which he was placed being altogether new to him, his heart and eye recoiled with horror at the desert scene around ; the season, too, somewhat assisted to conspire, with waste and bog, to make what was at any time unfavourable appear still more so, for spring had scarcely then began to shed its cheering influence over what the dreary winter had desolated, and Ardent had severely felt the combination of glooms. But now all was changed : the spring had come and gone, and the face of nature was decked in the gay garb of summer; even the desolate heath was cheered 230 ardent; a tale and enlivened by its little purple, yellow, and white blossoms. The mind of Ardent had also undergone a change : he was no longer the gloomy visionary and solitary recluse that he had been upon his first commencing a residence in the Forest ; his profession brought him acquainted with many of the inhabitants of the village and its neighbour- hood, which kept his mind from reverberating upon itself. But had his acquaintance been cen- tered in Mrs. Freelove alone, it would have been quite sufficient to have fully occupied his thoughts, so much was he pleased, puzzled, and distracted, concerning her and her history ; besides which, she engrossed a considerable portion of his time, either in attendance uponherself or her numerous protegees, scarcely allowing him a respite for reflection ere a fresh summons brought him within her magic influence ; so that any unfavourable impression which he might have received from his friend Foresight, or any one else, was quickly effaced in her presence, for, while with her, he felt convinced that the slightest prejudicial hint respecting her was nothing but slander. For how, he thought, could a female, who practised OF WINDSOR FOREST. 231 every imaginable virtue, combine with them those vicious habits which would totally destroy the effect of her more correct and rigid conduct. In short, he was convinced it could not be : such extremes, he felt sure, were never united in one person, and he mentally resolved, each time he visited her, that he would never again listen to or entertain those suspicions which were so unworthy of her ; for her charities and virtues he had witnessed in innumerable instances, while any thing immoral or culpable in her conduct he had never discovered — notwithstanding a some- what vigilant watching for that purpose. It was about this time that the Reverend Dr. Allworthy, who was a friend of Ardent's, wished to avail himself of an extra opinion in a project he had formed in his own mind ; and as he conceived Mr. Foresight to be a respectable and intelligent man, and acquainted with the prin- cipal characters of the village, the worthy Doctor, with that cautious prudence and circumspection so characteristic of the clero-y of the Church of England, thought he would avail himself of his intelligence, and collect that information which he conceived Mr. Foresight was so calculated to give. 232 ARDENT ; A TALE In short, his mind was big with the important task of choosing a patroness for his darling Sunday School, and he had accordingly cast an eye upon Mrs. Freelove, judging, from her exemplary con- duct and strict observance of religion and charity, she would be a very fit object for that purpose ; and, as he knew that Mr. Foresight was somewhat acquainted with the lady, and had been also a long resident in the village, he thought him a very proper person to consult with upon so important an occasion as the appointment of a patroness to the female department of his Sunday School, for the regulation and conduct of which he felt himself peculiarly interested and responsible. For this purpose, he repaired to the house of Mr. Foresight, where we beg leave to introduce to our readers this sage brace of worthies, holding their profound and important conversation, tite-a- tete; therefore, gentle reader, first premising that the introductory compliments have passed between them, they shall now speak for themselves, begin- ning with the divine. " I have done myself the pleasure of calling here this morning, Mr. Foresight, by way of conversing with you upon a very important sub- OF WINDSOR FOREST. 233 ject. You know how much I have the welfare of my Sunday School at heart, being fully convinced of the importance of both religious and moral instruction to the rising generation, and which, to the honour of the government of this country, they fully accord in, as a necessary prehminary towards refining the manners and principles of the age. There having been recently so extra- ordinary an instance of the ill consequences attending a neglect of the early education of the rising generation in a neighbouring kingdom, the government of this country have very properly taken the alarm ; and, lest the dissemination of evil principles should influence the youthful mind of this kingdom, they have in their wisdom enjoined, that schools shall be appointed in every village throughout Great Britain, for the educa- tion of the lower classes of society in Tnoral and religious principles ; deeming ignorance to be the precursor of crime, and the fertile source from whence every enormity of the human conduct may be said to spring. You know also, Mr. Foresight, how I have toiled and laboured, to establish and support these schools ; but as I find it impossible to superintend the manage- 234 ARDENT ; A TALE ment of both the boys' and girls' schools, it is my wish to seek a lady of rigid moral and religious virtue, as a patroness to the female department ; and I think I have been so fortunate as to discover one admirably adapted for that purpose, and who, as far as my observation extends, seems peculiarly calculated for so important a public duty. I allude to the lady who resides at the lodge, and, in an affair of this nature, setting delicacy aside, I came to inquire of you what you know concerning her. — The importance of the question must apologize for the apparent impertinence of it." " I am flattered. Doctor Allworthy, by the marks of distinction you have conferred on me, and am sorry I cannot repay it to the extent you may wish, as my knowledge of the lady is very hmited." ^' I, too, am sorry for that, Mr. Foresight, but I venture to think that she has the necessary qualifications for such a trust ; for the individual who undertakes such an important office, should be of a serious turn of mind and character, and one that will pay strict attention to her Christian duties, and the order and regularity to be observed by the various classes in reading and prayer, all OF WINDSOR FOREST. 235 of which I think Mrs. Freelove would strictly perform. Do not you think so, Mr. Foresight." *' I am scarcely competent to give an opinion, sir, or rather a direct answer to your question, for I am not so intimately acquainted with her as Mr. Ardent, who is very enthusiastic in her praise, and supposes her to be all but a divinity. I have often heard him say that her conversation is of a religious tendency, and that she is very zealous in gaining proselytes to her religious opinions, the truths of which she professes and asserts to have great influence on her mind and the proper regu- lating of her thoughts ; this coincides so exactly with his sentiments, that he will not hear the most distant hint that they may be in part assumed." '' And it would be very uncharitable, Mr. Fore- sight, if he did ; but do you not know who she is, or from whence she came V* ^^ There, my dear sir, I confess I am puzzled, and so, I believe, is every one else in this village, although she has lived here nearly six years. And, notwithstanding her conduct appears consis- tent and proper, yet I, in common with many others, have a suspicion that all is not quite ri^ht." 236 ARDENT ; A TALE ^^ Indeed ! — Has she any visitors ?" '' Not many, I believe. She has an uncle who comes frequently to see her, — at least, about every six weeks or two months, sometimes not so fre- quently. His visits generally extend to three or four days, and while there he preserves a strict incognito, never bringing with him a servant ; his mode of travelling is in a post-chaise, which is driven into the front court, and he alights at the hall door. He leaves in the same private manner, as if he wished to avoid notice. Some say he is young Freelove's guardian, while others have not scrupled to assert that he is his father. Whether either of these are true or not, I cannot say : this I only know, that the identity of herself and visitor is rather of a mys- terious nature ; for myself, I candidly confess my curiosity is excited, and I have repeatedly tried to unriddle the whole arcanum, if arcanum there is, and of which I think there is little doubt; yet I have hitherto been baffled, and my conse^ quent suspicions have only tended to make me more curious. Sometimes, indeed, I have fancied myself just on the eve of discovery, and then again all has been involved in the same obscurity as OP WINDSOR FOREST. 237 before, so that I completely despair of ever becoming acquainted with her real character, unless it is through the intelligence I hold with Ardent, who, as I before remarked, is enthu- siastic in her praise, and with such an assiduous enterprising character, that if any one developes the hidden mysteries which surround her, he will certainly be the man; and from what I have remarked of his character, I do not think he will be trifled with, but compel her, if any one can, to disclose her real principles, ' with all her imper- fections on her head,' if she has them. If she uses artifice, he will some time or other detect it, but if time proves her to be every way correct, they will be lasting friends, if not become more nearly allied by marriage ; that is, on the suppo- sition he should prove her former life to have been respectable, and one whom society need not be ashamed to acknowledge. My inquiries respect- ing her commenced shortly after her first arrival in our village, and all I have hitherto learned, or am likely to learn, is, that no one actually knows who she is or from whence she came ; therefore, I think there must be some especial reason for making such a secret of the affair — possibly, it 238 ARDENT ; A TALE may be some family misunderstanding, such as marrying contrary to the consent or wishes of her friends or relations : what else it can be I know not. And I do not choose to put a more uncharitable construction on the mysterious circumstances in which this lady is enveloped, as with a thick and impenetrable cloud or veil. But, notwithstandmg all this, she appears very communicative, and ready to converse on all subjects and topics, excepting her family, friends, or connexions. She appears to have a considerable income, but from what source or sources it is derived, I know not, or whether the property is real or personal. What makes me suppose it to be the latter is the absence of a steward, and I never heard any one speak of her possessing an estate in any county, colony, or kingdom, or whether she has fundamen- tally secured her property in an ingenious manner, peculiar to herself. All these circumstances considered, has created the doubt I entertain : I would not say she is virtuous, neither will I assert that she is not, and if I do not actually suspect the latter, I believe I am not very far from it. If she is not all that is virtuous, still I do not think her to be all that is vicious ; for her OF WINDSOR FOREST. 239 praises and commendations are in every one's mouth, and the poor universally esteem and respect her." /* Well, Mr. Foresight, then after all you have told me, you still know no harm respecting her, nor can you allege anything vicious or incorrect in her present conduct ; and if she ever did live a gay hfe, I firmly beheve she has renounced it, for she now appears to lead a life so truly exemplary, that she may be considered a female pattern of perfection, or a religious devotee of the most useful description. I remember having heard of some females, who, having lead a life of dissi- pation, have reformed, and ever afterwards lived in a state of penance and mortification : but these instances have been more numerous in Catholic countries, and other parts of the continent of Europe, where mortifications of the flesh and spirit, during the pride of life, are held up as atonements for former irregularities and enor- mities ; and though I believe it to be very rare in this country, yet such characters have existed even in England, I have no doubt. And even the male sex have been known to retire for the same reasons, and in the character of hermits have 240 ardent; a tale taken extraordinary pains to mortify the flesh, and destroy those passions which have rebelled against God and his holy precepts. Indeed, they have been known to deprive themselves of all sustenance, with the exception of pure water, fruits, herbs, and roots, resembling the inha- bitants of this earth in the primitive ages of the world, when nature required not the productions of art to pamper the appetite and enervate the body ; when dissipation was a thing almost unknown and unheard of, and instinct was the only lawgiver and guide of human actions. I think you were saying, Mr. Foresight, this lady has some society besides her uncle, for which she certainly is not to be blamed : her situation in life demands an interchange of thoughts, senti- ments, and opinions, and that she should wish to pass a cheerful hour is by no means surprising.'* ^^ Very true, my dear sir, but it appears to me somewhat strange she should prefer male to female society, which, I own, but ill accords in my opinion with self-devotion and religious austerities and observances. It is true our worthy friend, Mrs. Goodwill, the late clergyman's widow, sometimes visits her, and so does Mrs. Flowers, and both OF WINDSOR FOREST. 24 1 ^re highly respectable ladies, and who join in their commendations of Mrs. Freelove with evident partiality, thinking her possessed of every charity and virtue under the heavens. They also attribute all insinuations as arising from the malice and envy of evil-disposed persons, whose very breath is slander, and who take delight in vilifying the pious, the worthy, and the good, for the purpose of bringing down those who are the ornaments of religion and virtue to their own level; proving them to be jealous of those virtues which they despair to imitate. These ladies also declare, that she is a pattern of domestic manage- ment, admiring the order and arrangement of her house and grounds. In short, they quote her as worthy of imitation, both in her religious and domestic observances. Such is the description of her life and manners, given by ladies of known respectability and acknowledged character. That they conceive her to be deserving of imitation, with the foregoing remarks I have made, would imply that she is either a consummate counterfeit, or really a pious, religious, and amiable woman ; retired from society and the world for the purpose of dedicating her services to Divine Providence, VOL. I. M 242 ardent; a tale and ameliorating the necessities or distresses of her suffering fellow creatures." *' I am not surprised, Mr. Foresight, that the lady should prefer male society to female-— it is no unusual thing; other women of strong minds and vigorous intellects have given the like preference, as the understandings of men are usually more cultivated, and greater pains taken with their education. Consequently, it follows, that a much wider field of conversation and amusement is afforded, and they discourse on wit, humour, and general literature, with reciprocal advantage, the one sex unfolding the lighter graces of female literature, while the other converse on the more soUd acquirements of general and classical learning ; each receiving a mutual benefit and entertainment, in bandying about the science of ratiocination. In fact, there have been great examples of this preference for male conver- sation, and I could mention many instances ; but ■will content myself by stating only a few in support of what I advance, beginning with Queen Christina, of Sweden, Lady Mary Wortley Mon- tague, and Miss Woolstoncroft ; although, by the way, the latter forms an exception in some parti- OF WINDSOR FOREST. 243 culars, as far as regards her private virtue and morality ; and, indeed, I believe Queen Christina, although possessing a masculine mind, was not free from imputations of the like criminal weak- ness. I merely adduce the circumstance that there have not been wanting both good and bad women who have been of that way of thinking, and retired from the frivolity of society and the world, for the purpose of enjoying and associating with a literary individual or individuals, who was admired and approved of by the world of letters : for instance, the Marchioness du Chatelet, who preferred the society of Voltaire, reprobate as he was, to that of her own sex. Such women having usually vigorous intellects, or stronger minds than the generality of their sex, and requiring a reci- procal interchange of ideas, are unhappy in what they term no society ; because frivolous society to such minds is worse than none at all. The appointing a patroness to my Sunday School, for the girls' department, is a very great and important trust, and the responsibility is very considerable, as it will lay more out of my district than the boys' department; therefore, my expectations from the patroness of such school will be, that she assists m2 244 ARDEj^r;' A taIe: to inculcate both moral and religious insttuctioif in the rising generation, that they may ever after be useful members or patterns of society, from the precept and example bestowed by a worthy- patroness; and that not more for their own indi- vidual happiness, than as a national benefit. My duties will be of a more extensive nature, not confined to superintending the juvenile part alone, but to keep steady in the practice of true piety and virtue those who are more advanced in life* And I do not conceive I can appoint a lady wha will be more generally approved of as a patroness to my school, which 1 intend to form upon the pure principles of the Estabhshed Church, so ingeniously and reasonably explained by Dr. Bell, ill his system of pubhc education, comprehending in its purport and intention the doctrines pro- lessed by the Church of England. Therefore, I think the humane and benevolent Mrs. Freelove must be superintendent of the concern in the female part of the establishment ; while myself will direct that of the boys, in both moral and religious instruction. So shall we be each fulfilling, in our several capacities, the intentions of Divine Providence, by specific and especial duties ; and OF WINDSOR FOREST. 245 in our joint engagements we shall be a true shep- herd and shepherdess, to a flock of young lambs." '^ I hope, worthy sh-, that every thing will prosper as you wish ; and that the lady will be worthy of the confid-ence you repose in her." '^ I do not fear it, my good sir ; I feel that 1 cannot be mistaken in choosing one whose conduct cannot be proved to be anything but exemplary.'' ^' I trust. Doctor Allworthy, it will so continue ; for she must be weak indeed to do anything that would overthrow so respectable a support or foundation to her reputation." ** And depend upon it, Mr. Foresight, she will not. I really feel quite delighted that our little district is so fortunate as to be blessed with such a prize, for, trust me, she will prove a treasure in the task which I hope I shall prevail upon her to undertake. And now, my good friend, let m^ thank you for your patience, and wish you good morning ; for I will not lose further time, but away to the lady at once, and beg her concurrence and co-operation in my plan." " Good morning, reverend sir ; I am sorry my intelligence was so limited, but we must now trust to Divine Providence and pray for success." Thus saying, they parted. 246 ardent; a tale This pious and worthy pastor of a Christian flock speedily put his design in execution, and, calling at the house of the lady, regulated all things with her for the prosperity and welfare of their undertaking, to the entire satisfaction of each individual; — the reverend gentleman, in having chosen so exemplary a woman, and the lady, in being placed, comparatively speaking, at the head of the village ; for it was a situation which the most exalted in the land would not consider unworthy of them. Therefore, she was justly proud of such a distinction being conferred on her, and especially by so respectable a man, whose life was irreproachable, and whose example was influential in no ordinary degree : indeed, he was, perhaps, as pious and worthy a divine as the world ever saw, and whose resemblance, in all respects, it would be as well if the present world witnessed more frequently. And it is but so far justice to his discrimination to avow, that she was never known to have abused his confidence by any improper infringement or neglect of school disci- pline, which to-day thrives under the sanction and protection of a highly benevolent branch of the Royal Family. OF WINDSOR FOREST. 247 CHAPTER XVII. Time rolled on very agreeably with Ardent, who conversed with Mrs. Freelove in the most familiar and interesting manner. He conceived that in her he had met with such perfection as could be rarely equalled ; and that her excel- lencies could possibly be surpassed, certainly at that time never entered his imagination. Now, whether it was partial affection or bUnd infatuation that tended to animate his mind, or by what other secret impulse he was governed, he knew not, but so it was ; and he felt half ashamed to confess to himself that he was at length caught in those toils which are spread for mankind, and which, it is said, at some time or other of their lives they can- not avoid, and those were the snares and entangle- ments of love, which he had hitherto so jested at and ridiculed, as being unworthy that any man of sense and sound discretion should consider him- self susceptible of; more especially in allowing it 248 ARDENT ; A TALE to influence his conduct, and make him deviate from that line of firm prudence, so compatible with the steady paths of rectitude and honour. But such was the will of Providence, or the fates, or it might not be unaptly termed his evil destiny. Now, whether Ardent found this state of things more abounding in agreeables or disagreeables, he was sometimes puzzled to determine ; indeed, it has posed heads much more sagacious and profound than his own, ignorant as he was in this particular. The aged and the young, the lively and the phlegmatic, the sanguine and the cold, — indeed, all other temperaments, have experienced the delights and torments of love : but all differ in opinion as to the exact preponderation of plague and delight, some affirming that pleasure predo- minates, while others, on the contrary, assert that it is overwhelmed and lost by perturbation and disquietude. Had wisdom been the guide and director of Ardent, he would have attended to the susfoestion of his friends and prudent advisers, some of whom admitted there were doubts respecting this lady's character, which, though not actually arrived to a OF WINDSOR FOREST. 249 certainty, would have formed a formidable obstacle to the cementing of a prudent acquaintance. When the power of infatuation obtains posses- sion of the mind, as it did in that of Ardent, it effectually banishes discretion, and gives vise to the most extravagant conduct, of which the indi- vidual appears totally unconscious, rushing as it were headlong madly towards the precipice of destruction, usually terminating in the overthrow of one or both parties. These animadversions, reflections, or commentaries, are designedly inserted, to fix the attention of the youthful part of the readers of this work, and intended to convey and recommend that caution and circum- spection so necessary for the guidance of a prudent life, for where it is disregarded, the most unhappy consequences usually result. The good intentions of the Author will, he hopes, plead his apology with all judicious readers for thus arrest- ing the progress of the narrative by the insertion of any of his own opinions — he will now lay them aside and return to his history. The opportunities that presented themselves to Ardent to visit his fair patient were frequent j M 5 250 ARDENT ; A TALE nay, it may be said, almost incessant. Sometimes fits required his immediate assistance ; sudden falls, or other accidents, also assisted to demand the attendance of the youthful and sympathizing lover. And short was the time which elapsed but some incident or other occurred to bring them into each other^s company, when they were in no hurry to separate ; so that their marriage was frequently talked of as an event that was very likely to take place, and that speedily, for it was not supposed that such intimacy could last much longer without some final result, and what else could that be but marriage ? Upon one of those occasions which so often presented themselves, but which, it must be premised, was after somewhat longer absence than usual, the lady tenderly reproached her lover for what appeared to her his long delay in visiting her. — '^ But,'' she added, " I suppose, Ardent, your time has passed more agreeably and cheerfully elsewhere, or you would not have been absent so long ; especially when you know that I feel a pleasure in your society, which so agreeably assists me to relieve the tediousness of my almost OF WINDSOR FOREST. 251 monastic seclusion, and of which/' she added, with a sigh, *^ I was not sensible until I became acquainted with you." *' Nay, dearest Madam, you are either flattering or jesting with me, in thus leading me to imagine that my unavoidable absence could give you the least pain; and surely it is mocking me to suppose my time could pass agreeably or cheerfully when out of your charming society." '^ I do assure you. Ardent, I never was more in earnest ; for, believe me, no one is so desirous of your friendship as myself. And let this fragrant rose be a pledge from Flora for the truth of my assertions; and now suffer me to place it in your bosom, as a blushing token of my esteem." '' Only esteem, fair lady ? — Will you not deign to bestow on me a more tender appellation ?" " Well, then, Ardent, my love, if you will have it so; but remember, I mean Platonic love." " Yet, dear lady, I am ignorant of the extent of the favour you have so kindly bestowed on me, as I know not the definition or boundaries of Platonic love." " Ah, slyboots; then I will endeavour to explain it, though, I fear, very imperfectly. Platonic love, 252 ARDENT ; A TALE then, is that sentiment between the sexes, which is something more than friendship, and yet not quite love, — at least, the love over which Cupid presides : in short, it is a sort of love peculiar to philosophers of refined sensibility, and may be indulged in between the youthful and the aged of the opposite sexes." '^ Nay, dear madam, there you have completely destroyed and broken the charm. If it is of that nature, Cupid cannot indeed have anything to do with it ; and I think it may be rather termed a venerable than a philosophic love. But when taking place between the younger part, who is the authoritative being that dares prescribe bounds to it, and say ' so far shalt thou go and no further V I think, whoever that officious being may be, I should feel strongly inclined to dispute his or her commands, as both fanciful and unnatural ; for, doubtless, the will of God should be the will of man, and I am certain he never intended such an incongruity." '' Stop, Ardent, or I do not know what you will arrive at next ; let me try again to give you my sentiments on the attributes of Platonic love. It seems, then, to convey all the sentimental OF WINDSOR FOREST. 253 delights of the passion without its inconveniences ; it infuses a sort of calm and delicious tranquillity through the soul; it engenders a pleasing harmony into the company and conversation of the intel- lectual lovers, unattended by the upbraidings and jealousies which so usually attend the other kind of love ; and, to sum up all, it is a certain name- less, indescribable, influential, indefinite, incom- prehensible sort of a passion." '* Incomprehensible, indeed, madam ; and, let me also add, intolerable to be persisted in, even by the most sentimental of lovers. But I have an idea that this Platonic love is not altogether such a useless troublesome being as you make him appear : now, I look on him as a sort of usher or master of the ceremonies, who will conduct his votaries into the presence of that more important and agreeable personage, who is usually accom- panied by Hymen." ^^ Well, Ardent, and do you not think we may be sufficiently contented with the company of this said gentleman usher, without wishing to be introduced to the presence of his formidable master; for my part, I should consider myself infinitely more at ease and unrestrained in his 254 ardent; a tale society, than I should in that of his more tyran- nical superior — for of the one, you know, I could take my leave when I pleased, while by the other I should be shackled by a host of oppressive ceremonials, and in my retreat should have to encounter with his troublesome retinue, consisting of jealousy, tears, smiles, upbraidings, accusations, and all the rest of his discordant and peace-de- stroying attendants." *^ Yes, fair lady ; but I think I have sometimes heard that this Platonic master of the ceremonies is often a cruel, treacherous, and mischievous being, who, after fascinating his votaries and gaining their confidence, by his pleasing and winning manners, maliciously infuses a noxious drug into the refreshment which he offers them in apparent friendship, but which seldom fails to intoxicate the senses of his unsuspecting guests, who are then cruelly led by their deceitful host into the company of infamy, remorse and despair ; from whose presence they are only led by repent- ance, or sometimes by Death himself" " What a picture has your sombre imagination portrayed. No, no. Ardent: depend on it, you are wrong, and have either wilfully caricatured OF WINDSOR FOREST. 255 or slandered this harmless deity, whom the great Plato himself adored; or else you have mistaken him for some vile infernal deity. Heaven forbid he should be the treacherous being you represent him, for I should then be truly miserable ; indeed, I am not so happy now as I used to be, and I almost blush to own that the woman you found to be a recluse, fond of seclusion and solitude, can now no longer endure it in your absence ; for when I am deprived of your society and conver- sation, my mind assumes a gloomy tinge, — all things seem approximating to a final ruin, and myself to be the first victim of it." *^ You both flatter and distress me, dearest madam, for I am not suflScient egotist to suppose that my absence alone can affect you in so extra- ordinary and melancholy a manner. I am appre- hensive there is a more important anxiety on your mind, independent of this Platonic love between ourselves, which I am yet unacquainted with : if so, dear lady, I beg you will not consider me as impertinently or obtrusively curious, when I intreat you will unburden your sorrows to me ; and if I cannot alleviate them, I promise you I will sympathize with them." 256 ARDENT ; A TALE " You are wrong, Ardent, in your conjectures; and now let us have done with melancholy con- versation, — and I beg you will take this cambric handkerchief, as a flag of truce for the suspension of disagreeable inquiries." ''Your favour, madam, reminds me of an eastern custom, where the Sultan presents his handkerchief in token of love to his favourite slave, who, per- fectly understanding the signal, makes every preparation, which I need not repeat, for his reception and entertainment. Would that some wise lady would introduce the custom into merry England, with this exception only, that the hand- kerchief should be bestowed by the female on her grateful admirer. What think you, madam, of this being the first introduction of the custom into this fair isle — a more lovely patroness it could not have." '' Well done, bold face, upon my life you improve mightily; why, in a short time I shall scarcely consider myself safe when in your com- pany. How dare you place such constructions upon my little present — why, your iuiagination is so proHfic in unwarrantable allusions, that you will place your own wicked constructions on every OF WINDSOR FOREST. 257 thing I say or do. But you must be good if you would possess my esteem, for if you are not I shall even withdraw my Platonic love from you." '^ Ah, madam, do not be so cruel as to do that, unless you replace it by what you term the other kind of love ; but I will now be very serious, as you bid me, and only ask you who was that elderly gentleman I saw at breakfast with you some time since? — He appeared to be a grave and wise- looking man." " That gentleman. Ardent, is one of the most worthy beings on this earth : he is my uncle, and also guardian to my son. He left the village early this morning, as he is obliged to attend his Parliamentary duties; he is my best friend, and was also an intimate friend of my late unfortunate husband. From his relationship, he is very natu- rally my guardian also, having the management of my fortune as well as that of my son*s, for we are left independent of each other. My son will come into possession of his property when he is of age, but mine is left at my own disposal, with the exception of my uncle being one of my trustees or stewards to take care of it for me ; for, indeed, my husband was tender-hearted, kind, and provi- 258 ARDENT ; A TALE dent^ and left his afflicted widow well provided for. But I intreat of you. Ardent, not to touch upon this subject again: the remembrance of what I have lost never fails to overwhelm me with grief; for what can be more heart-breaking than the loss of a husband, one tenderly loved; and these bitter tears are my witnesses how tenderly I loved and how sincerely I lament him." '^ I beseech you, dearest lady, dry your tears. I am distressed beyond every thing that I should so unintentionally have caused you this grief; indeed, I had not the slightest idea that my question would have recalled past unhappiness, and I sincerely apologize for my curiosity, which the appearance of that gentleman had certainly •raised. And now let me entreat you to recall the sunny smiles on your countenance, or I shall think you have not forgiven me the unintentional, and, therefore, innocent cause of your distress." '^ I am calm. Ardent, and do not accuse you of any ill intentions to disturb my tranquillity ; but do pray let us seek some more agreeable topic," ^' Well, then, dear madam, may I now ask when we shall again traverse in company the trackless paths of this wild region, and climb the sides of OF WINDSOR FOREST, 259 some of those mountains where desolation reigns undisturbed." '^ A very good proposition, Ardent. — I think we will resume our equestrian rambles together ; for as I enjoy horse exercise, those rides are to me delightful, which we may extend, if we please, nearly the whole length of Windsor Forest ; but I chiefly love to roam into its wildest parts, through Caesar's Camp and many other places equally famed in history. Indeed, the hills, which extend for miles around, present some very charming views of both distant and neighbouring counties. And when we tire of roaming over trackless wilds, there are, you know, pretty rides, formed by the military for the convenience of his Majesty's hunting estabhshment, which is said to be the best regulated in the world ; these rides admit of free communication one with the other, over fen, bog, hill, and dale, indiscriminately, affording convenient access for beholding the grand and subhme views which may be seen around, where nature appears in its unadorned and unorna- mented state. But I can hardly say it realizes the poet's assertion, who says, in speaking of beauty, when unadorned it is adorned the most. In 260 ardent; a tale our way to those hills, we shall pass that delightful spot which I have designated the Happy Valley ; it is my favourite walk, far from the haunts of men and the busy hum of conflicting sentiments and opinions. Over this pretty walk the wood pigeons skim the air, while the little playful lambs sportively skip and bound over the sward that appears ever green — at least, I have never seen it otherwise, its verdure always resembling the most cultivated lawn. It is besides so secluded by three neighbouring hills, one of which is crowned with tufted trees, that adds much to its beauty." '^ True, madam: I have often contemplated the Happy Valley with admiration and pleasure, but more especially that hill you have just mentioned, which towers so pre-eminently above the rest that I have sometimes fancied it particularly adapted for the haunts of Jupiter, from whence he may descend to pursue his amorous intrigues with the fairest and most beautiful daughters of men, in that secluded spot which you have so properly termed the Happy Valley. The hill itself I have compared to Mount Olympus, for on a m.isty day the top is obscured by clouds, and OF WINDSOR FOREST. 261 the tempest rolls down its sides even to its base. And when^ dear madam, you will permit me to be the happy Jupiter, and accompany you to that valley, I shall not envy that deity the company of his Semeles, Leas, los, Danaoecs, Antiopes, Europas '^ Stop, Ardent; why, you are bringing toge- ther a whole catalogue of vice, immorality, and fornication. Pray let me hear no more of your boasted Jupiter, who scrupled not to break the marriage vow in innumerable instances, proving him to have been more of a heathen deity indeed, or anything rather than a true Christian." '^ Well, fair lady, as I am not fortunate enough to find a subject for conversation that is pleasing to you, perhaps you will have the goodness to indulge me with the promised sight of your library, for, if you remember, there is a moral writer who says, ' tell me the company a man keeps, and I will tell you what he is ;' so, perhaps, when I know the authors you have selected, I can possibly better judge what description of conver- sation will please you." *' Follow me then, Ardent, and my books shall 262 ARDENT ; A TALE put your judgment to the proof; for although they are few in number, they are choice in kind." ^^ A few books, madam, if select, are better than many of little worth ; but here we are among the silent oracles both of departed and living genius. — To begin, then, here I perceive are Blair's Sermons, that good and grave northern lecturer and divine, whose works have passed through the ordeal of pubhc criticism with honour. Sterne's Sermons are also here : he was a man abundantly gifted with wit, and for quaint drollery few have equalled, and certainly none have surpassed him. In his sermons and works generally, he professes to teach and lay down the grand principles of humanity, but how he practised them in private Hfe it is not for me to say. The Economy of Human Life comes next, that multum in parvo, embellished also with most elegant plates. In it I see various passions portrayed, and counsel given which would not have disgraced the most worthy sage of any land — in one of the plates, I observe, is a representation of innocent love (I should not suppose it to be the Platonic love) : a youth appears soliciting the hand of a virtuous OF WINDSOR FOREST. 263 maid, while she is redining upon his bosom, in holy and religious purity. But who can be the author of that very large book ; it should either be a History of the World, its Geography, or the Holy Bible, depicting the characters of mankind from the earliest ages of the creation." " I am not surprised, Ardent, at your curiosity being excited, for it has astonished many of my friends, from its prodigious dimensions, which you observe is a folio of the largest size and thickness. It is a great book, indeed, and worthy of our greatest attention and consideration ; it is our all in all, as the reverend and good Doctor Allworthy would say ; indeed, it is my great family Bible, and from which I read to my servants every Sunday evening either some selected portions of Scripture, or the lessons of the day ; I give you my word it is not kept merely for appearance, or only to be looked at on the outside. You know the Reverend Doctor Allworthy says, read your Bible, study it well, for it contains more truths and is of more importance to the welfare of man- kind than all other books whatever ; it is the fountain of living water, containing the soundest philosophy, the clearest reasoning, and the boldest 264 ARDENT; A TaLE truths that can be conceived, as connected with the guidance of this hfe, and, above all, secures the joyful hereafter, where there will be neither weeping, wailing, nor gnashing of teeth. But, above all, I prize this little book with a black binding, as it instructs us how to bring our souls nearer to God, and the practice of his command- ments, through which instruction we are enabled to hold communion with the Almighty ; and herein the Saviour of the world offers himself as a propitiatory sacrifice to save poor sinners, if they will but repent and reform their sinful ways, and qualify themselves to be joyful participators of his happiness in the world to come." " Indeed ! my dear madam. And pray what may be the title of that very important book, which, according to your description, should take precedence of the other, and claim the title of the only true and original all in all." '^ No jesting. Ardent ; it is the Whole Week's Preparation for the Sacrament." " Well then, dear madam, I think, without a further examination into this pious assemblage of authors, I may conclude that you are a very devout lady, and that your seclusion is for divine. OF WINDSOR FOREST. 265 religious, and moral purposes — such as relieving the necessities of the poor, and preparing yourself for that heaven which you so enthusiastically anticipate. These are certainly very praise-worthy duties, and were more of your way of thinking, it would be for the benefit of mankind, while exemplary wives, mothers, and daughters would not be so rare." " Do not flatter me, Ardent ; I know I am not perfect, but I follow the counsel of my worthy and reverend friend as well as I am able." '^ And in doing so, dearest lady, you cannot err ; for in practising what the worthy clergyman preaches, you will be every thing he wishes you to be, both in this world and the next." ^^ Ah, my young friend, you and Doctor Allworthy are a pair of originals, each capable of giving good advice : and I hope I shall not flatter you by saying, each also practise what they preach." '^ I am afraid, fair lady, that would be flattering me, for I am far behind the worthy divine in both moral and religious conduct; nor shall I ever be so useful in setting an example to the rising generation as the reverend gentleman, who, by VOL. I. N 266 ARDENT ; A TALE his preaching, praying, and exemplary conduct, has acquired an influence over the morals and principles of his admiring flock : however, that I may do what good I can in my department, I must now reluctantly take my leave of you, and attend where duty more imperiously but less agreeably calls me." '' So, adieu for the present, dear lady." OF WINDSOR FOREST. 267 CHAPTER XVIII. Shortly after the foregoing conversation, Ardent called at the house of his friend Fore- sight ; not having had an opportunity of convers- ing with him for some time past, and as his mind bad become somewhat ill at ease, he thought a communication with that gentleman would tend to disperse the gloom that would occasionally come over him, when not in the society of Mrs. Freelove. He thought, also, he should hke to hear the opinions and counsel of his sage friend ; at the same time, hke many other young men, he resolved to be guided by that counsel, provided it agreed with his own inclination.- He was accord- ingly ushered into the presence of Mr. Foresight, who cheerfully welcomed him. ** Well, my young friend," said he, " I am hap|)y :to see you, and I believe I may esteem this visit as a favour, knowing the more fascinat- ing company that usually claims your leisure n2 268 ardent; a tale moments. Pray, may I inquire how the lady is; for I hear she is very often indisposed. It is well for her you took up your abode in this village, for had her health been in this precarious state before your arrival, I tremble to think what might have been the consequences ; for she certainly bore a most cordial and hearty hatred to our ori- ginal village Esculapius. To be sure, it was not much to be wondered at, for he is a person not very well calculated, either in appearance or man- ners, to please a lady of her delicate taste ; foj^, unless I am mistaken, she could not, with all her charity, endure the presence of apparent age and ugliness in her fairy retreat, which she certainly never intended as a harbour for monsters of de- formity, or who are anyways decrepid or disgust- ing in appearance. But the frequent demands she has for your services proves she has no objec- tion to the almost incessant attention of a disciple of iEsculapius, provided he is youthful and by no means of an unpleasing appearance. But you look grave, my young friend; I hope nothing has occurred to disturb the harmony of your acquaint- ance with that fair lady. '' No, Mr. Foresight, nothing has happened, OP WINDSOR FOREST. 269 as you term it; but, to tell you a painful truth, my mind is far from easy on her account : indeed, I am sometimes almost bewildered and dis- tracted, and those hours that are allotted for repose bring none to my disturbed mind, but rather tend to aggravate the gloom of my thoughts, till I sometimes fancy I hear the knell of death toUing in my ears, as a presage of some unhappy event. May Heaven in its wisdom avert any grand catastrophe from either me or mine." *^ Why, what is the matter, my young friend ? Surely, all these forebodings are not caused by your apprehensions for your fair patient ; her in- disposition, I trust, is not of so dangerous a nature as to afford reasonable grounds for so much dread as you seem to feel." '* No, my worthy friend, my inquietude does not arise from her bodily indisposition, which is very trifling. But there is an indefinable some- thing in her manners which I cannot explain, — a something I never witnessed before; and yet why I should feel unhappy I know not, for I can- not accuse her of the slightest misconduct; on the contrary, she is so religious, so retired, and so praise-worthy in all she does or says, that she would command the admiration of an anchorite, 270 ardent; a tale who, if he saw her at her devotions, would faney it was an angel upon her knees, offering Up her pure prayers to her native heaven ; and then sh^ scarcely appears to bestow a thought on the vani* ties of this world; and the devoted piety of her appearance, when ori her knees, is so inciting to good example, that I am often tempted to bend mine and join her in her prayer, which is extern* pore ; indeed, she often preaches long homilies, which are, to my thinking, the best I ever heard*" '' Bravo! my young friend; doubtless they are even better than were those of the Archbishop of Toledo, and you, no doubt, hear them with greater pleasure through the rosy lips of a pretty woman, than did Gil Bias from the withered lips of an old church dignitary of the Catholic faith. And your opinion, no doubt, so far differs from those of the youthful Santillane, that you con- ceive it to be impossible to improve any part of her homilies, as did that incautious young man who hazarded an opinion for the improvement of the Archbishop's homily, and received his dis^ missal as the reward of his suggestion, proving that superior ability does not always meet with a suitable recompense." "^ You may jest, my good sir, but really \ OP WINDSOR FOREST. 27 1 cannotj for I believe I am bewitched by this fair enslaver ; whether she perceives the extent of it or not, I cannot tell, but this I know, her piety appears to have increased of late, and she is almost perpetually at her devotions, on her knees, before a chair." '^ Ay, Ardent, like a repentant Magdalen in appearance, is she not?" " Repentant Magdalen, Mr. Foresight! Nay, I hope she has not the reasons of a Magdalen for her repentance. But what can be the reason of so much devotion I know not, for I cannot think her sins are very numerous ; and I have heard that we should not be righteous over much. But then, her appearance in that sublime attitude is truly admirable, and I think I never see her to so much advantage as when kneeling at her devo- tions. Now, whether she is conscious of this, I know not ; but I certainly think religion never appears to so much advantage as it does when enthusiastically practised by a lovely woman, with uplifted eyes, the most beautiful I ever beheld ; indeed, I find I am becoming a speedy convert to her way of thinking, for she has more influence OVQT me than anj other individual whatever," 272 ardent; a tale " And your conversion is purely spiritual, quite unmixed with any thoughts of the flesh ? Why, Ardent, you will shortly be fitted to beconie one of the elect for the new light, although I fear it is shot from the bright eyes of one of the frail sex; yet it seems to have pierced the innermost recesses of your soul, and I believe I may say body and all. It is a great pity you two did not flourish in the time of Oliver Cromwell, as you might have made some figure in those devout and psalm-singing times, which, by the way, I have heard, some how or other caused a great increase in the population of this country, which the godly accounted for by saying the Lord blessed their honest endeavours, and considered them worthy to perpetuate so chosen a race." ^* Stay, Mr. Foresight, for you must not scan- dalize a lady who I believe to be pure and chaste as Diana." '^ Do you not rather mean, my friend, Susan- nah? who, they say, was tempted by the Elders, and wonderfully and virtuously resisted their paw-paw propositions, as this lady would, no doubt, proposals of a similar nature from our aged and unprepossessing ^.sculapius. I have OP WINDSOR FOREST. 273 certainly always considered it a very fortunate event for resounding the fame of the lady Susan- nah's chastity, that she was tempted by elders rather than by youngsters, for then I dare say we should never have been edified by the relation of the affair, as history would have been silent on the subject." " Upon my word, Mr. Foresight, you have put a strange construction, or rather misconstruction, on my observation: when I mentioned the name of Diana, I meant the goddess of chastity." *^ I knew it. Ardent ; only, as you had become so pious, I thought the mention of a heathen divinity was mal-aproproSf and therefore selected a lady from the Scriptures. And so you really admire her for nothing else but her extreme piety ?" ''That is one strong reason, certainly; and yet I confess I am sometimes tempted to fall out with her excessive devotions, for it too often deprives me of her pleasing conversation, which I would rather hear now and then than those long religious orations and exercises, which she seems to have imposed upon herself more rigidly than ever; for I am seldom there one evening in familiar con- versation, but her most solemn duties are per- n5 274 ARDENT ; A TALE formed before we part, for the purpose of con- verting me to her way of thinking." " Upon my word, Ardent, I can scarcely for- bear smiling when I picture to myself the almost ludicrous appearance you make when kneeling by the side of this fascinating lady. I think I see you with one eye turned up towards Heaven, rolling with pious fervour, while its fellow is ogling and leering at the tempting object which kneels beside you one eye occupied in serving the creature, and the other the Creator. I am sure I quite admire the forbearance of the up-turned eye, for I know that mine would very naturally rebel, and follow the direction of its twin-brother. I suppose, Ardent, you find that to be sometimes the case." ^' From your jocularity, Mr. Foresight, I should be very sorry to see you in the same situation." " That I dare be sworn you would, or indeed any other man than yourself, fearing they may not have the same forbearance as you have, but inter- rupt the length of the homilies by sealing up the rosy lips from which they issued with their own. O, rare opportunity, which millions might envy ; OF WINDSOR FOREST. 275 yoii will be eventually a very happy man or a most miserable one, as your forebodings seem to predict. For, as I have before remarked, while there is mystery, my friend, there is always some- thing in reserve which is to be apprehended." " The latter part of your observation, Mr. Foresight, accords but too well with my fears, that this lady and myself are on the brink of a dangerous precipice, where, if we continue much longer, in our present state, our senses may grow giddy, and both be hurled down it, to the destruc- tion, perhaps, of each, but which prudent conduct may yet prevent, before it is too late." '' I approve of your sentiments, my young friend, and am glad to find you can argue so pru- dently; I only hope you will immediately put it in practice. But tell me, have you as yet pressed the lady for a disclosure of her sentiments to- wards you?" " I have, my good sir, as far as I could with delicacy. But she, with a sensibility and amiable manner peculiar to herself, by no means encou- rages an abrupt proposition of so formidable a compact as that of marriage. At present, she appears to be highly satisfied with the attention 276 ARDENT ; A TALE that is paid her by myself, but expresses a wish that that should be the boundary of our inter- course, and that we should still trifle on with what she styles a pleasing kind of friendship, or, to make use of her own expression, Platonic love. But I confess to you, my friend, that to me it is not so pleasing as tantalizing, and I in- wardly repine at the calm tranquillity of which she seems to be possessed ; for, while I am boiling with the ardour of enthusiasm, she appears as serene as a summer sky. It is to me inexplicable, unless, indeed, it proceeds from the delicacy of the sex." *' Dehcacy of a fiddlestick! why, my young friend, wdth these refined and fantastic sensi- bilities of yours, they are more resembling the malady of a romantic girl while labouring under the green sickness, than any other thing I can compare it with. Your ideas and refinements of the passion of love are too highly sublimated — partake too much of the divine essence — are too ethereal — too spiritual — too ideal — too imaginary — too fanciful, and too inexplicable, as I should imagine, to be comprehended even by the lady herself. Depend upon it, my young friend, you O^ WlKl^SOR FOREST. 277 possess too superior and sensitive a mind for her comprehension or wishes ; and I suspect the ^vent will prove that you completely misunder* stand each other ; for while you are exercising all the refinement of the most delicate sensibility in seeking a virtuous woman as a partner for life, and in your creative fancy have already pictured an angelic divinity in form, person, and mind; and this lady your heated imagination depicts as the identical being you are in quest of, part of whose beauty and perfections she is indebted to your fertile fancy for the imaginary possession of. Yours is the genius of a poet, who sees and thinks through a false medium, and not as they appear to common understandings, who would see this affair in quite a different light. Now, without wishing to shock your sensibility, I will give you my opinion of the lady's present conduct. My simile shall be a common one : I think we may consider this lady as an expert angler, a true descendant of the celebrated Isaac Walton, of piscatory memory, one of the completest anglers of his time, who would not have valued the finest trout that ever sported in stream or brook, unless, after he had successfully hooked his victim, he 278 ARDENT ; A TALE could play with and tickle him, allowing him suffi- cient length of line to make vigorous efforts for his escape, that he may be diverted by its vain and ineffectual struggles for liberty, previous to his withdrawing him from that element to one which must be fatal to him. Just so is this lady sport- ing with you, whom she knows to be too securely hookedj otherwise than by the most violent plung- ing, which may perchance break the line, pre- senting to you the only means you have of escape from her fascinating manners and agreeable con- versation. But I fear she is too wary, and will make a secure capture of you before your strug- gles for liberty become too violent." " You alarm me, my dear sir, beyond expres- sion. And is this really your opinion of the lady whom I have thought to be all that was perfect, and whose very retiring and timid conduct to- wards myself I admired as a virtue, while I regretted its effects. Can it be possible that all this delicacy is premeditated, and the ef- fects of artful study beforehand. If she is ca- pable of such conduct, then I will in future think no woman perfect. I hope, — nay, I trust, you are deceived in her ; and from the rarity of of WINDSOR FOREST, 279 such excellence as she practises, you have unhap- pily misconstrued her motives for such exemplary conduct. I entreat you, dear sir, to think better of her." '^ Yes, Ardent, till your misery convinces me to the contrary, which would not happen were you to adopt my suspicions, and regulate your conduct accordingly ; or otherwise, your own generous sentiments and liberal manner of think- ing will work your destruction ; for you have no practical knowledge of the world, and your incre- dulity will, I fear, be the cause of your learning it in a severe manner. I must further say, I feel concerned for your situation, for I am perfectly aware, whatever effect my counsel might have on you while you are with me, it will be totally effaced and rendered of no avail the instant you breathe in the intoxicating atmosphere by which she is surrounded." '^ I do not believe the lady has so much power over me as you imagine, Mr. Foresight, neither do I conceive that all your conjectures are per- fectly correct; and my reason for so thinking is, that the reverend and praiseworthy Doctor All- worthy differs from you in opinion, or he never 280 .ARDENT ; A TALE would have chosen her for the patroness of his Sunday School." *^ As to the Reverend Dr. AUworthy's motives, Mr. Ardent, I do not think they should be the actual guide of your conduct, who are by far more delicately situated. The lady's public conduct may be very correct, while her private life may be better concealed than exposed. My conversa- tion with yourself must of course be considered of a confidential nature, and which nothing but anxious wishes for your welfare could have induced me to have held with you. I am only sorry it is likely to be attended with so httle good effect, for I plainly perceive you remain unconvinced. But I feel comparatively easy in thinking I have discharged a duty which I owed to my conscience ; for even silence towards you in your present state of mind would have been cruel, if not criminal." ^' I feel obliged to you, my dear sir, for the kindness of your motives, and will bear this con- versation in mind ; at the same time, I fervently hope that you may be mistaken. But time will discover which of us are right ; you in your fears, or me in my hopes." OF^ WINDSOR FOREST. 281 " Time will indeed, Ardent, prove the correct- ness of our different opinions, and I apprehend in no trifling manner. Heaven protect the most innocent of the party ; and since you cannot be convinced but by the conduct of the lady herself, I will not further distress you by my remarks, but hope you will go through the ordeal, which you seem determined not to retreat from, with a firmness of nerve and steadiness of conduct which will at least benefit others as an example, how- ever distressing the events may be to yourself." '^ I thank you, dear sir, for better admonitory counsel I could not have received; but I hope the event will allow of our laughing at the ground- less fears in which we have indulged, and that this troubled morning will be the precursor of many bright days." " You certainly deserve it, my young friend, and I wish I could consider the hope was not a futile one." " Then I think you will have your wish, for my heart feels lighter than it did, as I believe T have now heard the worst, and can discover no foun- dation fjr the reality of your suspicions ; therefore it v/ould be uncharitable to the lady to alter my 282 ARDENT ; A TALE conduct towards her in a way she may not be deserving of, and which, possibly, I might repent of more bitterly than any ill consequences that may arise to myself. And now, dear sir, with a grateful heart for your kind concern on my account, I wish you good morning." '' Good morning, Ardent; and whenever you can steal a moment from the fair widow, who has certainly bewitched you, remember in me you will find a friend, who will always be happy to see you and hear of your welfare. Farewell !" OF WINDSOR FOREST. 283 CHAPTER XIX. Ardent, after having left his friend Foresight, seriously meditated and reflected upon all he had heard from that gentleman, and resolved, when he next visited the lady, to throw out some allu- sions respecting his doubts and uneasiness of inind, and watch the manner of her receiving his excited suspicions. An opportunity soon pre- sented itself of putting his resolves into execution, by visiting the fair object of his solicitude and anxiety, who, as usual, began to reproach him for his absence, by saying, '' You are rather tardy of late in your visits to me ; has anything in parti* cular occurred to interrupt the alacrity which you used to delight to display in approaching my ha- bitation? or does your tardy mode of entering into my company indicate a falling off of that sen- timent you used to express for me ? But per- haps it is a proof that you possess the usual tyranny of your sex, who, when they are certain 284 ARDENT ; A TALE that their company and presence are necessary to the happiness of the object who looks up to them with a tender veneration and regard, make her fully sensible of their importance by leaving her to the pangs of a prolonged absence. This, Ardent, I fear, is your motive ; for since I have confessed to you what pleasure I derive from your company, and what melancholy I suffer when you are away, you seem, in consequence, to have lengthened the periods between your visits." " Indeed you wrong me, fair lady ; for, to con- fess to you a painful truth, my reflections and melancholy have been more uneasy than your own, which I hope have not been so painful or serious but that you may impart them to me.*' '^ To tell all. Ardent, would be impossible, as they have been too numerous even for me to bear in memory, much more relate them. But part of them I will tell you : you must know, then, I have frequently thought, that with much strong sense, you unite with it a great deal of bashful- ness, and, I might say, almost maiden timidity. Your sense of propriety is so uniform and exact, and on the contrary your worldly information so OF WINDSOR FOREST. 285 small, as scarcely to warrant the idea of your having lived in it." ^^ From this, your opinion, dear lady, I beg positively to dissent ; for, in a generally practical knowledge of the world, I do not consider myself so particularly defective, and I certainly rather pride myself on the theoretical knowledge I have acquired from books ; for I have delighted to study and contemplate the best authors, with their sentiments and opinions ; and where I have admired bright and noble sentiments, it has been with enthusiasm, and I have endeavoured to store them as treasures in my memory. Then, as to comparing me to a bashful and timid maiden, you certainly do the young ladies a very great injustice ; for my modesty is quite of a diiFerent character, although I do not pretend to the rudeness and bold impudence of which some of our young men have a superabundance, for those qualifications, in my estimation, are no virtues. It is on the side of principle, honour, and inte- grity, I am bold, and may be considered capable of competing with any man in those sentiments. Having declared what I am, I will yet say, however qualified for a man's 286 ARDENT ; A TALE department, I am not sufficiently correct for a pure and spotless maiden ; for the difference between a man's character and that of a woman's is essential — the man either foresees difficulties and prevents their occurrence, or braves them with all the courage and energy he can summon to support his judgment, not unfrequently deriving consolation and vigour of mind from the perusal of the ancient authors of Greece and Rome, those master geniuses of the world, whose writings show we should never despair, even in the utmost reverse of fortune, but follow the example of Fabius Maximus, who, by procrasti- nation and prudent caution, eventually conquered the difficulties by which he was surrounded, and saved the Romans from the further fury of Han- nibal's conquering soldiers. I would not unne- cessarily rush into danger, but, being once involved in a perilous jeopardy, I would endeavour to surmount it and go through with it to the last, relying upon Providence for the event, and my courage for the execution. But the woman's province is to yield: her very weakness is her safeguard and protection, and her diffidence calls on more able counsellors to guide and protect OP WINDSOR FOREST. 287 her. The man rouses the energy of his character and braves the elements themselves, endeavouring to subjugate and render them subservient to his will ; but the young maiden, whom you have so improperly compared me to, is as timid as the mountain doe, and if her retirinor modestv is sought out by an honourable man, she is safe, but if by a villain, she is destroyed ; for a woman's fall is at once, and from which, perhaps, she may never rise again, while a man, though beaten down by fortune, and that frequently, still may recoil upon his adversaries, and prevail against them at last — provided it is in a just cause — although they be as numerous as the evils which flew from the box of Pandora, for the annoyance and destruction of mankind." ^^ Upon my word, Ardent, you have given me an elaborate specimen of the groundless nature of my assertions, and I will never again accuse you of timidity, far less bashful taciturnity, after this display of your elocutionary powers, as ai'gumen- tative as they are reasonable, and as rational as they are convincing. You are a sage of the modern school, — a young one, it is true, but your information is from books, mere book knowledge, 288 ardent; a tale which I am sorry to say, Ardent, will avail you but little in acquiring that practical knowledge of the world, which, as it is the most costly, is usually the most lasting. But until you have possession of the one, you must be contented with the other; the union of both constitutes the profundity of human wisdom, which you will no doubt acquire before many years have passed over your head ; this is usually the routine of all young philosophers like yourself." '^ In this particular, madam, young maidens usually have the advantage of us men, by pru- dently and very properly attending to the guidance of their more experienced mothers. But the young of both sexes should attend to the counsel of age, for I would not wish to create invidious distinctions between the sexes, for as age is necessarily more experienced, it may very natu- rally be inferred that they are more capable of giving instruction to those youths who stand in need of it, whether male or female ; and the novice has then the opportunity of deriving his or her fairest shield and buckler, to defend them from the ways of a deceiving world, from the hands of those who have proved their utility. OF WINDSOR FOREST. 289 But woe be to those presumptuous youths who, rejecting the counsel given them by their wiser friends, and relying in full confidence on their own temerity, brave the assaults of that world which usually buffets them with relentless fury, like the tempestuous sea does the shipwrecked mariner ; and fully avenges the disregarded counsel of those friends and relations whom Heaven has appointed for their guide during their first launching into maturity, and before they can well be supposed to have acquired either correct opinions or judgment." " Why, really. Ardent, you are becoming a grave moral lecturer, and as your doctrines are so judicious and sound, I think you are in an admirable state of mind to accompany me to the altar of the Author of our being, that we may renovate ourselves for the continuance of good works ; and, by rooting out the old man, sin, become as new creatures, by partaking of what the church has appointed for that purpose." '^ When you first spoke of the altar, dear madam, and conceived me fit to accompany j^ou there, I had fondly hoped it was for the purpose of pledging our vows to support and comfort each VOL. I. o 290 ardent; a tale other to the end of our days. But the latter part of your request damped my rising ardour, and I must beg a short time for consideration before I answer your request." " And do you think. Ardent, that this requires a longer time for consideration than the sacred compact of marriage ; but I must know if you are truly fitted for the one by the way in which you conduct yourself in regard to the sacred duties of the other ; for my spiritual welfare is of far more importance than any of my bodily or corporeal concerns in this life ; for, after all, what are the yanities of this world, in comparison of the eternal hereafter." " You were rallying me just now, Mrs. Free- love, for being a young sage. May I not, in my turn, express my astonishment at your being so fervent a saint at your blooming time of life ? Really I am sometimes tempted to consider you as a most incomprehensible lady ; for your sanctity soars far beyond that which is practised by the most ancient and rigid spinsters or antiquated virgins of the day, who have an excuse for the excess of their piety — for, being unnoticed and forsaken by man, they very naturally turn their OF WINDSOR FOREST. 291 attention to the saints of our sex in paradise or Hea- ven, thereby anticipating the joys of the hereafter. But you, fair lady, were not intended for an absokite devotee, and those charms were destined to bless some happy mortal previous to their being dedicated to the Eternal, in those mansions of holy joy, purity, and everlasting devotion." *' Ah, scape-grace ! it is those very joys you speak of that I am desirous you should partici- pate in, in the regions above ; and would you have me abstract my attention from those religious performances and those solemn vows which are to prepare me for the immortal glory hereafter, by persuading me to prefer the carnal and sublunary joys of this world to the more purified ones of the next." '^ Why, really, madam, in you our holy faith has a most powerful advocate, and it is well for the Christian religion you have enlisted under its banners ; for were you a Mohammedan lady, you would be a powerful opponent, and make more proselytes to the crescent than you now do to the cross. And I believe, if you pleased, you could make the Koran not only intelligible but acceptable to many who are now devout Christians, o2 293 ARDENT j A TALE for were you to recommend the joys of the Mo* hammedan paradise, with all the female votaries of pleasure who are to reward the true Mussulman, there could be little doubt of your success ; and I J w^ho am your wiUing follower under the banners of the cross, should be an absolute zealot under your doctrines of the crescent." '^ Cannot you be serious, Ardent, and give me an answer to the important question I put to you, as to whether you will accompany me to the communion-table or not ; for I can tell you that on your answer will depend my good opinion of you now and in time to come." " Why, then, madam, as the great truths of Christianity are not only obvious but necessary, and what you have said is so congenial to the sentiments I profess, my inclination strongly seconds your wishes, and I see no impropriety in accompanying you to that most holy and pious of all institutions, which will, I hope, confirm me in the principles of rectitude ; for we are always liable to omissions of goodness, as well as com- missions of evil, both of which should be avoided rather than repented of." " Upon my word, Ardent, you argue on all OF WINDSOR FOREST. 293 things, morals and religion, humanity and fellovv- feeling for the sufferings of others, and, in short, would on any topic that I might propose. I sin- cerely hope you may always practise what you now profess, which, to give you your due, appears to be strongly impressed on your mind at the present moment." '' I feel obliged to you, dear madam, both for your good wish and good opinion, which I return you tenfold ; and allow me to express a hope that you may always equal the expectation I have formed of you — surpass it, I believe, you cannot ; and may Heaven grant that the weakness of human nature may never surprise you, or remove from you those bright ornaments which embellish your mind and add a dignity and grace to your person : and with these sentiments I must, for the present, bid you adieu." " Good bye. Ardent, and let your absence be as short as possible." 294 ARDENT ; A TALE CHAPTER XX. While the scenes and events we have been describing were in progress, the father of Ardent felt the greatest anxiety for the welfare of his son; for he was not entirely ignorant of his acquaintance with the captivating widow, which alarmed him exceedingly, for he, too, had heard some of the whispers and insinuations which were in circu- lation respecting that lady, and which were so likely to interfere with his own views regarding his son. Therefore, by way of counteracting the ruinous influence of this lady, he had industriously sought out for a suitable matrimonial engagement for his son, in which anxious search he believed he had succeeded to his wishes. And there was every probability of his most sanguine expectations being realized, but from the powerful interposition of the widow lady. He had many times signified his wishes to his son, who felt convinced of the sound reasoning of his father's arguments, and felt distressed and perplexed between reason and OF WINDSOR FOREST. 295 inclination. In this harassing state of conflicting sentiments and opinions, he called at the house of his fair enslaver,, with the intention of disclosing to her his embarrassing situation and his father's commands. '' Having arrived in the presence of the lady, she quickly perceived something more than usual agitated the mind of her lover, and inquiringly asked what was the matter, — " You appear dis- turbed : tell me, I beseech you, the cause of your anxiety, that I may know if it is in my power to alleviate or remove it ; for your apparent uneasi- ness greatly distresses me." " Dear lady, I thank you for your kind solicitude on my account, and, indeed, I came on purpose to disclose to you the cause of my distress ; for as you are partly the cause of my perturbation, it is but right that you should be acquainted with the affair." " Good Heavens ! Ardent ! you alarm me ; in what way can I be so unfortunate as to cause your uneasiness ?" '' I will now tell you, madam. You have often heard me say how anxious my kind father feels for my welfare, and how solicitous he is that I should 296 ARDENT ; A TALE be well settled in life ; this he considers imprac- ticable without a discreet and prudent marriage, the neglect of which, as he assures me, usually proves the young man's stumbling-block on his first launching into the world, and, as he very justly observes, one false step may prove his entire ruin ; or, if he recovers eventually, it must be accomplished through prodigious efforts of mind, which few are capable of exercising or calling into action ; and should they not be endowed with sufficient fortitude or strength of mind, their final ruin is irretrievable." '^ Good Heavens ! Ardent, to what does all this tend? Do you wish to keep me in this state of breathless anxiety and suspense while you are detailing your father's most sage axioms and moral lectures, which I really think to be wholly superfluous, as his son is by no means deficient in sapient harangues ? And now proceed, if you please, to the more immediate cause of your dis- tress, for I have not yet discovered any apparent reason for your very great disquietude ; espe- cially if I have hitherto understood you aright, that marriage would not be considered by you a severe punishment." OF WINDSOR FOREST. 297 '^ No, madam, you did not misunderstand me, for no one can revere the sanctity of the marriage vow more than I do; but my acquaintance Avith the young lady whom my kind father has selected is not considerable, and, unfortunately for myself, my heart and mind are not so totally disengaged as to allow of my addressing the young lady with that undivided attention which is due to her virtue and merit." " Hey-dey! Ardent, now, indeed, you surprise me — why was I notmade acquainted with this before l It appears, then, you have been visiting the lady, and at the same time ungenerously trifling with myself on the subject of love and marriage — was this using me weh, to trifle with the affections you were striving to engage, and which, unfortunately for m.y peace of mind, you succeeded in but too well ?" '^ Dearest lady, you wrong me exceedingly in thus reproaching me with ungenerous conduct ; and I think you must be fully aware that the frequent visits I have paid to your attractive house, have been an effectual hindrance to allow of my devoting any time to the young lady, whom I o5 298 ARDENT ; A TALE have not as yet visited, but whose company accident has sometimes placed me in." '* I breathe again, Ardent, and feel happy in the knowledge that you have not used me with premeditated injustice. And now tell me where you have met with the lady I am so anxious to be informed of/' '^ I have sometimes accompanied her from church, and once in a post-chaise from the races ; beyond that I have hitherto forborne to second my father's wishes ; for which non-compliance, fair lady, your own conscience may possibly suggest the motive." ^^ I will not plead absolute ignorance on that head. Ardent, but allow me to ask you a question — what qualifications do you consider your future wife should possess, to make you as happy as the transitory nature of this world will admit of?" '' Yours, Mrs. Freelove, is a nice question, but I think I can ansv»^er it. In the first place, then, I believe it to be highly essential that the lady should have some fortune ; secondly, some per- sonal beauty is requisite to please the eye as well as the mind ; and, thirdly, I should wish her to OF WINDSOR FOREST. 299 possess a liberal portion of good sense, discretion, and other amiable traits of character; and this, combined with a suitable age, would, I believe, make me happy in this life and allow me to wait contentedly until the next." '' An admirable specimen of moderation, upon my word. Ardent ; youth, fortune, loveliness, and gpod sense, — and family, I suppose, included, by way of making up the sum of agreeables. Why, really, no epicurean philosopher could have done himself more justice in wishing for the good things of this life, — and then, your praiseworthy humility in promising to wait with a Job-like patience for the next! x\ll this is very well as an Utopian wish, but who that is possessed with both beauty and fortune would have you ? I grant you may succeed in obtaining either the one or the other singly, but both together, blended and united in one person, is difficult to be met with; except by individuals of the first rank and consequence in life. And mind, I speak prophetically, one or other I think you will have, whenever you do marry, but not both : that would be arriving at a happiness indeed, and one which, let me tell yoU; you will never obtain in this world." 300 ARDENT ; A TALE *^ Really^ madam, I think your candour almost as admirable as my moderation ; and allow me to express a hope that you may be mistaken in your prophecy ; and, as they say marriages are registered in Heaven, I hope Providence has allotted me an amiable and virtuous female for my wife, even if she should not possess all those requisites I have mentioned, to their fullest extent ; only let there be some portion of all those agree- ables, and with such mediocrity I will be content, and consider myself as a happy man." *^ Will you, indeed? Why, really. Ardent, your humility is surprising : but, however, I am glad you have somewhat moderated your wishes and expectations in a trifling degree, as your chance of disappointment will be less ; and I speak this seriously, for I am, perhaps, somewhat more acquainted with the chances of human life than yourself." " Very possibly, madam : but that your predic- tion may be something less than the real truth, I fervently hope ; for I shall certainly indulge the expectation of happiness until I am really con- vinced of the contrary. I may, perhaps, be too sensitive in mind for true happiness, unalloyed by OF WINDSOR FOREST. 301 its opposite ingredients; for, as Pope says, 'Olan never is, but always to be blessed.' " '^ That, Ardent, is my opinion of your expected happiness, or, if it ever happens at all, I expect it is yet very remote. I do not mean to say you will not receive some transient gleams of joy and extatic rapture ; but, believe me or not, you have too exalted an opinion of human enjoyments. I fancy myself to be as happy as most women, and yet I am far, very far from happiness : my unpro- tected state is a frequent source of disquietude ; and then, again, I am by no means easy respecting my son, lest he may not turn out so well as I have sometimes indulged myself to hope and expect. But now tell me, who is this lady your extremely provident father has looked out for you? I am very curious to know, as I had an intention of" proposing something of the same kind to you myself, which I fancied might not, perhaps, have been altoorether disagreeable." ^•' I have heard, Mrs. Freelove, that your sex are usually expert at guessing or finding out : therefore, I will try the truth of this assertion on yourself The lady, then, lives in the neighbour- hood of this village; is of pleasing personal 302 ARDENT ; A TALE appearance, and possesses some fortune ; she is an only daughter, and younger than myself by some years, and altogether very prepossessing in person, manners, and good sense. Her father is independent ; and I am given to understand, by my own father, he has reasons for believing I should not be altogether an unsuccessful suitor. And now can your penetration discover who the lady is ?" '* I believe I can, Ardent, although the young lady and myself are not upon intimate terms ; indeed, we have very little knowledge of each other, for she has never called upon me, and I, of course, could not think of paying her the first compliment. However, she appears to me rather prudish ; her stature and personal attractions are very well, and her countenance might pass for handsome ; I believe she is allowed to possess very good sense, and I suppose her fortune is equal to your expectations ; but with all these advantages, which, it must be allowed, are con- siderable, herself being an only daughter, her father being independent and aged, I feel, was I a young man, she should not be the young lady I would prefer to pass my days with. I am appre- OF WINDSOR FOREST. 303 hensive that I may have gone farther in express- ing my opinion of the lady than I intended, or, not being an uninterested person, than I ought; and I fear I appear too plainly as a rival to the young lady in your affections. But I think I am growing too serious, and was I to propose even myself for your acceptance, I suppose you would refuse me; therefore, I must not risk so consider- able a mortification." ^^ Be serious, I intreat you, dear madam, and tell me, without further procrastination, what you were about to say." " Why then. Ardent, I was about to commit myself so far as to say that in you I had disco- vered a man whom I could have liked for a husband ; but then I remember the insuperable barriers to such an arrangement : you are for angelic excellence, with all the milder graces accompanying such a character, whereas in me you would only find the solitary recluse, devoted to the alleviation of human infirmities, and endeavouring to ameliorate the sufferings of our poor neighbours." " x\nd what, dear madam, can be more inter- esting traits in the human character ? By feeling 304 ardent; a tale for the poor, you sympathize with all mankind ; for to the poor is allotted in this life by far the greater portion of human wretchedness ; and who- ever relieves their distresses sets an example worthy of imitation." *' Well, Ardent, we will noj: now enter into an argument on the attributes of charity, its bene- volence, or its characteristics, but will descend from such sublime perfections to converse upon more sublunary topics ; and, by way of amusing ourselves and passing the time, suppose I was to offer you my unworthy self, with five hundred pounds a year ; although, by the way, my income is far superior to that. Do you think those bagatelles, combined with the keeping of a close carriage for our amusement, with a pretty resi- dence in the Isle of Wight, or some other chosen spot, would be worthy of your acceptance ?" *^ Worthy of my acceptance, dearest lady ! you are surely jesting with me. Such temptations as your own lovely person, and a competent for- tune to bless the marriage state, must be heaven's paradise on earth, and would move the resolu- tion of a stoic, or flutter and warm the blood of an anchorite. How much more, then, must it OP WINDSOR FOREST. 305 myself, glowing as I am with all the warmth of a youthful and healthy constitution, as well as pos- sessing the most fervid imagination. Bethink you, madam, it is cruel to trifle with me in the present perplexed situation of my affairs: sufl^er me, then, to express a hope that you are serious." '' If you wish it real. Ardent, believe it to be so." '^ Dearest lady, how shall I express the since- rity of my joy for this condescending goodness of yours. I will inform my father of the happiness that awaits his son from your generous proposi- tion. How will he be delighted when I tell him of the liberality of your sentiments and inten- tions." *^ Really, Ardent, I cannot forbear smiling at your boyish loquacity. What! would you not complete an affair of this nature, in which you are certainly more interested than himself, without disclosing the w^hole of the circumstances to him. I do not wish to inculcate the doctrine of disobe- dience, but you. Ardent, are no longer a child, and should therefore be capable of judging for yourself; besides, I have been rather prematurely hurried into this confession, and I think vou 306 ARDENT ; A TALE should, if it was only in pity to ray feelings, spare me this disclosure to your father. You know not, Ardent, the delicacy of my sensibilities upon this interesting subject; they are of such a nature as would not endure a rude investigation ; indeed, so peculiar are my notions of propriety in this affair, that if you insist on disclosing it to your father, I will retract all I have said, and beg that this conversation may be considered as never having taken place." *' However painful the prohibition, dear madam, I will obey your injunctions ; but, as I should not like to show a marked disrespect to my family, by forming even so desirable an union without acquainting them of my intention, I trust, dear madam, you will not object to my respect- able mother being informed of your kind and con- descending intentions towards me. I shall see her to-morrow, and will then introduce the sub- ject in a careful cautious manner." *' I still consider. Ardent, that affairs of this nature are best managed as privately as possible. But as you have in part conceded to my request, I cannot do otherwise than return the compli- ment. But I expect you will communicate the OF WINDSOR FOREST. 307 affair to your mother in a cautious manner, so as not to wound my too sensitive feelings upon so delicate a disclosure." '^ Trust me, dear madam, you shall have no fault to find with me in this particular ; for I respect your delicacy too much to outrage your commands. And now, with a hghtened heart, through your generous determination, I beg leave to bid you a most respectful adieu." '' Farewell, Ardent! I scarcely know if I am more pleased or vexed with myself for this decla- ration, which, I believe, I have been surprised into some months earlier than perhaps I intended." 308 ardent; a tale CHAPTER XXI. After Ardent had left the house of his fair and captivating mistress, his mind felt bewildered and amazed ; for the lady's determination and avowal were to him so unexpected, that he could account for it in no other way than that she fancied she must either claim him as her own, or see him, in obedience to his father's commands, abandon her for another. His mind was the more surprised, as he had began to despair of ever bringing her to a farther disclosure of her sentiments than the declaration of Platonic love, which the reader is already acquainted with, and which, till that important day, she had scrupulously adhered to. He certainly felt pleased, but such is the way- wardness of the human mind, that he was aston- ished at not feeling so much enraptured as he had expected from so long-wished-for a declaration. He had so often contemplated the idea of such an event with enthusiasm, that now, when it was in part realized, he was so insensible as not to OF WINDSOR FOREST. 309 feel all those expected raptures on the import- ant decision. Still he c^etermined that on the morrow he would impart this important commu- nication of the lady to his mother, who was a sensible, discreet, and prudent woman, and on whose opinion he felt confident he might safely rely; therefore, when night came, he sought his pillow with the intention of soothing his perturbed mind by slumber, and waving all further consi- deration of the affair till the arrival of his maternal counsellor on the morrow. But sleep refused to visit so anxious a mind, and the nisht passed with a restless examination into the real state of his thoughts. The suspicions of his friend Foresight, with various other rumours that were afloat respecting her, arose like so many demons before his imagination, for the purpose of scaring away repose. It was true that he con- sidered most of these reports to have arisen from envy and slander, and the suspicions of his worthy friend Foresight, he thought, may possibly have received a tincture from the naturally grave and melancholy cast of his character. Yet, with all his disbelief in the various rumours which were in circulation respecting the lady, he felt an anxiety 310 ardent; a tale of mind which he could not comprehend or explain; and when morning arrived, he left his pillow even in a state of greater perturbation than he had sought it on the previous night. At length his mother arrived, and his mind felt somewhat relieved, for he knew that her penetra- tion and judgment were far superior to his own ; and, therefore, after a due time and all ceremo- nials of greeting and congratulation had passed. Ardent addressed her in the following manner : — ^'You know, my dear mother, how happy I feel at all times in your company, but I am more especially so at this present time, when your counsel and advice are so necessary to me. I have watched for your arrival this day with inexpress- ible anxiety, as I have an affair of the utmost importance to communicate to you, and to ask your sentiments respecting it, for it has caused me excessive agitation, although I scarcely know why." " I am always very happy, my dear son, to give you any information within my ability ; and I cer- tainly feel gratified by your dutiful respect in asking it. And now, if you please, we will come to the affair in question." OF WINDSOR FOREST. 311 " In the first place, my dear mother, I beg you will consider what I am about to disclose to you as a confidential communication, which was a sti- pulation I entered into on your part with the lady who is about to become the subject of our dis- course, which lady, my dear mother, moving in a superior circle in this neighbourhood, has done me the honour to bestow her affections on me, and has generously and delicately proposed our mar- riage; her fortune is unexceptionable, and even beyond what I could have hoped or expected." " This is extraordinary, my son. Pray of what age is the lady ?" ^' Why, I believe she is thirty-seven years, and has one son, a young man in his teens. But then she is a gay lively woman, and possesses much beauty, and does not appear by any means so old as she is. She is very charitable and very religious, and is possessed of many other virtues. She is also a widow lady, and her fortune is inde- pendent of her son's. " My dear Robert, with all these advantages, there is one circumstance, in my opinion, out- weighs the whole of them : that is, her age. You say this lady is thirty-seven years old, and you are twenty-five. This is too great a disparity, and. 312 ARDENT ; A TALE what is worse, it is on the wrong side; for had you been thirty-seven, and herself twenty-five, the match would have been, as far as I can learn, an advantageous one ; but, under the existing circum- stances, she is too much your senior to allow of my entertaining the idea for a moment, for she will be an old woman before you are in the full prime of manhood; and then, my dear son, I fear your disgust could not struggle long even with your respect, and I should have the misfortune to see your happiness bhghted by this outrage on nature, for what appears more unnatural than to see a young man in the pride and bloom of life pining away his hours in the withered arms of an aged female, and sighing for the arrival of that time when nature should release him from her. Why, my dear son, do you not rather turn your attention to the young lady whom your father suggested to your notice? Her age is much more suitable for yours, being your junior by some years, while she is in possession of the other advantages which you consider so desirable in the widow lady. Your addresses to this young person would give your father and myself much pleasure, as we con- sider her in every way unexceptionable." At this moment the conversation was inter- OF WINDSOR FOREST. 313 rupted by a hasty summons arriving from the lodge, for Ardent to repair instantly to Mrs. Freelove, as she was taken suddenly ill. In a state of perturbation he went to the lodge, where he found the lady of his affections in fits, and so ill as to detain him some time, lest she might suf- fer from a relapse. He learned from the servants that she had been suffering in this state for half an hour. But these fits had been frequent, and however distressing they were at the time to the feelings of her lover, they fortunately appeared not to have any effect upon her general health ; for no sooner was Ardent with her than she usually began to revive ; but upon this occasion they ap- peared to be of greater consequence and duration; and the news of her indisposition having reached the ears of the Reverend Dr. AUworthy (who had formerly been a physician to a London hospital), he called to see her in his medical character, which Ardent and Mrs. Freelove gratefully felt as a friendly and obliging attention. However, in a few days all indisposition vanished, not without some suspicion on the part of Dr. AUworthy, that the lady's sufferings had been rather of a trifling nature, or, in other words, that they had been vox. I. p 314 ardent; a tale of Windsor forest. partly assumed for the benefit of having the youthful and sympathizing Ardent so near her person. Indeed, the village gossip was excited upon this occasion, who did not fail to whisper and insinuate that the illness of the patient was of that peculiar nature that she derived more advan- tage from the visits of the young surgeon than from all the physician's prescriptions. But this they considered as a circumstance by no means unusual in those descriptions of maladies termed love-sick distempers of the heart, where the tender and sympathetic attentions of the young lover are of more avail than all the stores of the pharmacopoeia. END OF VOL I. London : Printed by G.H. Davidson, Ireland Yard, BIackfriar%. UNIVERSmr OF fLLINOIS-URBANA 3 0112 056544213 ^^c^