the party which helped to bring in these
sad confusions[2], and I pray him to preserve my son to see their just
punishment."

As this letter proved that the Colonel had not met with Williams, it
operated as a renewed inhibition on Dr. Beaumont to prevent Eustace from
rushing into the field, for which he had now a fresh incentive in the
friendship he had formed with Major Monthault, a young man of birth and
fortune, who had been attached, like himself, to the Queen's suite. This
youth had seen actual service, and spoke with enthusiasm of the
character of Lord Goring, then just appointed general of the horse in
the west. He described him as the soldier's darling; a Mars in the
field; an Apollo at mess; a Jove in council, and a Paris among the fair.
It was evident that Monthault piqued himself on being the counter-part
of the excellence he commended, especially in the last particular. His
intimacy with Eustace allowed him to visit Dr. Beaumont's family, and
his attentions to the fair Helen of the group were certainly more marked
than delicate, and would have excited the fears of Eustace, had he not
taken care to inform the Major that he was betrothed to his lovely
cousin with the entire approbation of herself and their mutual friends,
though their union was deferred until a riper age and happier period. To
admire and praise, or even to gaze passionately on the promised wife of
a friend, as Monthault did on Constantia, seemed to Eustace an implied
commendation similar to that bestowed on a house, gardens, or any other
beautiful and valuable possession, innocent in itself and flattering to
the taste of the owner. He knew not that there existed such a character
as a seducer, who could teach an unsuspecting mind to despise solemn
engagements; he felt no tendency to treachery in his own heart. No one
was more susceptible than he of the power of beauty, but he thought
honour was the only means by which its favour could be won, and even his
ardent passion for heroic fame derived an additional stimulus from his
love to the amiable and innocent Constantia.

The circumstances of my narrative oblige me again to recur to the state
of public affairs. The treaty of Uxbridge was now pending; the
necessities of the King compelled him to enquire on what terms his
subjects would sheath the sword, and the rapid ascendancy of the fanatic
party in Parliament, added to the mutual accusations and recriminations
of their generals, induced the mo