1^ 7 LIBRA niY OF THL U N I VERS ITY Of ILLl NOIS v.l The person charging thi«5 rv^o^ • i • sponsible for ,>c / material is re- , ■ "■«' university. — O-1096 THE FOUNTAIN or ARETHUSA. VOL. I. London : Spottiswoodb and Sniw, New-streel-Sq iKire. THE FOUNTAIN OF AEETHUSA. BY ROBERT EYRES LANDOR, M.A. AUTHOR OF " THE FAWN OF SERTORIUS," " THE IMMOUS FEAST," TRAGEDIES, ETC, IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS, PATERNOSTER-ROW. 1848. 12.1-Fc PREFACE. Some imaginary narratives must be written in the names of those fictitious adventurers whose fortunes they relate. When the author adds his own name, he subscribes it to an ^^ absurdity. I would leave my man of straw -responsible for his autobiography, if this eva- ^sion might be as well reconciled with honesty as with prudence. But it is not just that the buffets of criticism should be transferred from him and me to any third person ; or that a »i profitable error should be perpetuated. Two years ago, I published — thus far -anonymously — a fictitious history collected from Plutarch's Lives, and called " The Fawn of Sertorius." It was instantly supposed to ^ have been ^vritten by my brother : and several, even among his most discerning ac- ^quaintances, might hardly be convinced that ^the first page of it which he ever saw, was ^already in print. This misapprehension seems IV PREFACE. the more inexplicable as there could be no con- fusion of names, and as the single passage allusive to him must have disproved his inter- ference, at least, if not his knowledge. He endured so humiliating a misconception with the good-humoured complacency which he always feels where my projects are con- cerned. It must not, however, be forgotten that what I received as the most flattering of compliments, he must have suffered as an imputation — that the reader's interest is also implicated — and that silence, a second time, would operate disingenuously in one case, fraudulently in the other. There are few movements or qualities of the mind more carelessly considered than those in -which Avhat we call style originates — yet are there few so curious, so patent to our investi- gation, or so largely supplied mth materials for analysis. We hear much of resemblances from imitation ; and there can be no doubt but that a man's language, as well as his morals and his temper, may be corrected by good examples, or vitiated by bad. But, nevertheless, in all these three, the natural tendency will survive. Every style, which is PREFACE. V not forcibly distorted, must be constitutional — for style is the form of expression assumed habitually by our thoughts, till it becomes characteristic. In the 5th volume of his Doctor, and the 165th chapter, Southey says that '^perhaps there is no other instance of so strongly marked an intellectual family likeness" — as between my brother's mind and my own. The Laureat must have meant only such a resemblance as often exists between great things and little. He would have been as incapable of mistaking the one for the other, as a child for his father. Southey did not ascribe this resemblance to imitation. Yet neither he nor my brother could have been aware that, in prose compo- sition, I was the earliest of the two — that pre- ferring a fictitious denomination, or none at all, I wrote thirty years ago, as I write now. In saying this, I ruin my best apology for having written, at last, no better — but then I free myself from the suspicion of an attempt to pass, with such short and coarse skirts, as if covered by a royal mantle. irf THE FOUNTAIN OF ARETIIUSA. BOOK T. Idem ego, cum subii convexa foramina terra?, Supposuique ferox imis mea terga cavernls, Solicito Manes. VOL. I. THE FOUNTAIN OF ARETHUSA. BOOK L CHAPTER L That ancient method, exploded at present for no wiser reason than because it is old and methodical, by which the Author introduces his book as modestly as he knows how, was ever dear to me. It satisfies the inquisitive, propitiates the disdainful, prevents mis- conceptions in the heedless, and establishes such social and amicable communication between the par- ties chiefly concerned, as may consist with self- respect. An Author formerly was humble in his opinions and deferential in his deportment : thus approached, the Reader's honour, as well as his humanity, required that he should be gentle, con- siderate, benevolent, and forbearing. They began their intercourse with a good-humoured presage that both might be pleased in its prosecution. We now look suspiciously, if not hostilely, at one another — coldly and carelessly, if not captiously and contemp- tuously. Too early for any worse provocation, we are at least willing to quarrel. The Author cavils, swaggers, bullies, gasconades ; the Header looks at him superciliously, as if he would demand some ex- planation of all this arrogance and insolence ; and yet, perhaps, he refuses to hear it when he may. In such a tone as may invite to reciprocal courtesy, if there be good breeding with its ordinary charac- B 2 4 THE FOUNTAIN OF ARETIIUSA. teristics on the other side, I will relate some few par- ticulars of my family. And as part of that wisdom which derives its honours from a humble mind, I would at once acknowledge my Reader's superiority ; thus anticipating disadvantageous comparisons, and de- precating offence. Unlike himself, unlike all his friends, rehitives, or associates, I am, by birth, no more than a gentleman. Let this early and painful admission fortify my title to credit w^hen other facts shall be related by me ; for surely there are not many which can appear so rare I The unfortunate peculiarity which distinguishes me from almost every other gentleman in England, agricultural or commer- cial, is this very humiliating uniformity. There was not one of my ancestors much more illustrious than myself Some amends are made to me by the far prouder genealogy of a hundred acquaintances, proved through their armorial bearings and their own report. ]\Iy Family was good, was old, was greater once, was much respected, was opulent if not powerful, — yet I stand solitary for want of pretensions as much higher than these, as these are higher than the truth. An introductory account of my father's death, — of my mother's marriage, — of my own pupilage under Doctor Kalph, — of my uncle Richnrd's two sons, and why they were removed from Smyrna to Corfu, — of my uncle Richard's own ovcrsiglit and ini])n)vidonce, — of my commercial acquisitions, expectations, and disaj)p()intments, — will i^ccupy no more than a few ])ages in this first book. I shall find room also for the history of my return to England, of my reception in Buckinghamshire and Derbyshire, with my esta- THE LUGWARDINES. 5 blishment at Hayfield near Castleton as a country gentleman on my own estate. After having cleared away preliminary obstructions to the knowledge which will be more deliberately revealed as we advance, I shall conduct my courteous, and as I hope unincredulous, Eeader farther than any other living man has ever been. CHAPTER II. I WAS born on the 14th day of February, 1781, at Prince's Risborough, Bucks. My father, who is still affectionately remembered there, had been ordained to the curacy of Wendover in the same county. Youngest among three brothers, he was a patient and conscientious teacher in the twofold capacity of schoolmaster and parish priest. His life was not spared till he could graduate as Doctor in Divinity, or his pupils must have been much more numerous than they were, and the remuneration received from each of them twice as great. His eldest brother Antony, my godfather, resided on a small family estate between Hayfield and Castle- ton in Derbyshire. Not without some gratification as an antiquary, I say a family estate, because the Luo;wardines have retained it durinf]j almost four centuries, and I retain it still. We came originally from Lugwardine in Herefordshire; for I find that the two earliest of my Derbyshire ancestors are so B 3 6 THE FOUNTAIN OF AKETIIUSA. described in our title-deeds, their names being Phllippus de Lugwardine and Robertus de Lugwar- dine. In 1386 there was an Antonius de Lugwardine, who lost his life while fighting for our just right to the toll of Twyford Ferry between Breedon church and Tewksbury bridge, against the high bailifTs deputy, or, as some think, against the high bailiff himself. Having thus presented Antony, the eldest of these uncles, it remains to say that Richard, my father's only other brother, had been established during more than five and twenty years in the Levant, as a merchant or a factor there. After the cession of Corfu to England he removed both his sons thither from Smyrna; but not, as Mr. Sylvester supposes, either his main establishment or himself. CHAPTER III. My first great misfortune, the death of an indulgent father, occurred when I was barely fifteen. The year following deprived me of my mother also, though iu a different way. She was then married to Giles Cadwalladcr jNIillar, Esq., of Amcrsham, wliose five sons and ciglit daughters, l)y two former wives, required no family augmentation through me. As the latter half of my poor Father's education had been accomplished in Germany, he habituated his pupils to speak the Latin language. But sensible tliat, from this custom, there is as much danger of MR. AND MRS. MILLAR. 7 barbarism as advantage through facility, he exercised us also in frequent and careful composition. His own knowledge of Greek was, perhaps, rather exact than extensive. I had become master of no more than the New Testament to the Epistles, of Xenophon's Mem., of Plato's Dialogues, Lucian, Herodotus, the Iliad, and about half the Odyssey, when my instructor was called away from me. His illness had been sufficiently protracted to give him leisure for such arrangements on my behalf, as implied some forethought of those which his widow might possibly contemplate on her own. He had recommended me to the protection of his old Leipsic fellow- student Doctor Ralph Drumcragenhaus ; and a friendship far less sacred than theirs would have secured, from one so affectionate and benevolent, the guardianship which he proposed. Doctor Ralph's tears, on my arrival in Germany, were scarcely less parental, and his kisses were certainly not less profuse, than those of my dear mother on our separation at Amersham. But then his thoughts were occupied about an old friend; hers, much more seasonably, about a new husband ; and, unlike her, he had nobody else to kiss. B 4 8 THE FOUNTAIN OF ARETHUSA. CHAPTER IV. I HAVE never known a better man than Professor Ralph. Even Germany has produced few scliolars more profound or so unambitious. His studies were chiefly directed to Greek and Latin literature; adding, perhaps, not much more than such general knowledge of Oriental theology as might be demanded, by his profession, from a Protestant Divine. Classical and philological erudition was to him the amusement of life, if not its business. He eschewed all modern hinguages as either loose, flaccid, effeminate, and impure ; or else rough, uncouth, barbarous, and in- expressive. Though heartily patriotic, never did he converse in his own, but by necessity and with dislike. Of Aristotle and Cicero he remembered many more [)articulars, historical, traditional, and conjectural, than of his younger brother Roger the Scrivener, or Andrew the Apothecary, though living affectionately with them in the same house. That house contained apartments which he never entered, and to which he could not have found his way ; but he had con- structed, with extreme minuteness, a large cork model of the Villa so elaborately, and, to most other readers beside himself or Doctor Becker, so unintelli footbifj the other; but hanging as the spider does, with a slender thread, an active appetite, a doubtful expectancy, and from an hazardous elevation. Let me confess, in justice to my uncle, that he disavowed all promises. So candid was he as to repeat, whenever some lucky adventure, through my activity or intelligence, had called forth his good humour — that he promised nothing — that he disliked pledges — that he kept himself free — that no one should reproach him or his memory with disappointed hopes — but that he un- derstood men's motives, and knew well when he was well served — that there was a time for all thin