CHAPTER VII.

"The sweetest flowers their odours shed

In silence and alone;

And wisdom's hidden fount is fed

By minds to fame unknown."

In times remote, kings could neither read or write, and the philosopher, in consequence, was subjected to a suspicion in many cases at once dangerous and dishonourable; to use the language of Coleridge, the real teachers and discoverers of truth were exposed to the hazard of fire and faggot-a dungeon being the best shrine that was vouchsafed to a Roger Bacon or a Gallileo.

Our knight-errant in moral principles had evinced a degree of hardihood and indiscretion seldom heard of in modern times, for such is the courtesy usually shown to the fair sex, even if a little reflected upon by the observations and comments of mankind, that they are not openly traduced, but on the most urgent occasions or from

the greatest of provocations. That our hero was pained more considerably, or equally so with the lady herself, may be inferred, for no knight of romance, in ancient or modern story, ever was uncourteous to the fair in affairs of gallantry for any long continuance, and, if so, it would have been considered as a stain upon his escutcheon; for, however great the injury sustained from the delicate sex, common politeness has always secured them a favourable reception among all men of tender sensibilities and refined manners. It is impossible to extenuate the imprudence of Ardent or justify him in any degree, for the impetuosity of his resentment at the wrong, foul, and malignant accusation which they made against him of an intention to commit a personal assault; or those aspersions attempted to be thrown upon his character, by artifice the most complicated and combined he had ever experienced or witnessed. The full extent of the injury he did her he was at the time unconscious of himself, as he did not foresee that Lawyer Rapine, under pretence of vindicating her character, would involve her and her son in still greater ruin, as well as annoy himself, which, by the by, was the least

part of the dreaded consequences in the baneful calamity.

As a true knight of La Mancha, or of any other equally renowned and celebrated place in history, was never known to be guilty of such an indiscretion to the sex, his atonement should necessarily be equally singular, to compensate for the affront and as a balm to heal the wounds of offended dignity, in asserting, that it was at all possible, or even probable, that a lady of her sanctity of manners and decorum could, even in imagination only, have divested herself of her widowed weeds or otherwise broken her vows of chastity. Casuits in maiden purity, virgin innocence, and other flowery epithets due to virginity and the sacred obligations of the marriage compact, would say-had either of these sacred and vestal fires been invaded or infringed upon, it would have been the less surprising that the holy and pious fathers of the church should have condescended to consult their gowns and wigs, and decree the awful response of fate or the will of Divine Providence. But this is anticipating events, and as our hero committed himself in the opinion of his paramour, so must he be answer

able to that tribunal whom he so unhandsomely offended, both as a gentleman and a true knight, who came into the forest, as it would seem, to seek adventures and redress the injuries of distressed damsels; and, as he had the folly to fancy the palace of his mistress an enchanted castle, while her idea of chivalry, not keeping pace with the usual courtesy due to knights'-errant in former days, did, by mistake, conceive him to be a troublesome meddling fellow, and rewarded him. for the pains he had taken in her behalf, in asserting she was the most immaculate and pure vestal the moon ever shone upon, notwithstanding all - gainsay and disbelief to the contrary.

It is admitted, for the sake of truth, that her disinclination to be considered a divinity, or highborn deity, endowed with beauty and superlative attractions, was very much diminished since the commencement of our hero's acquaintance. It was not until after he had received considerable information of her being less than a divinity with the most superlative virtues, that the difference between our hero and his lovely Armida began to assume a different aspect. The days, and still less the nights, were not always found of the

brightest description, either in being favoured by the sun's genial rays or by the moon's propitious orb, both of which usually attend upon happy lovers. But not so now with our hero and his mistress of late days and evenings or nights; their days of rejoicing were past away-a melancholy eclipse intervened: first Mars, and then Saturn, with many constellations, disturbed his nights of repose, for Venus, the brightest of planets, and to whom he had associated his mistress as a divinity, was no longer visible: Saturn and his satellites obscured her genial influence, or, at the least, obstructed those attentions which are said to have a wonderful effect in softening the heart of the most obdurate female perversity, when directed under a right planet, or the favourable star which may have presided over his and her destiny. Alas! reader, that star had not been seen for many months, neither had the moon been favourable to a happy adjustment of differences; therefore, like a philosopher in the dark, he placed his candle under a bushel and no good resulted therefrom, but discordant caterwaulings that would disgrace a temple or meeting-place of the feline race.