serious occupation. In order that nature and social order may
appear in all their beauty, man must be the protector, and woman the
protected; but the protector must adore that weakness which he defends,
and reverence the helpless deity, who, like the household gods of the
ancients, brings happiness to his home. So it might almost be said, that
every woman is a Sultan, having at her command a seraglio of men.

The men are here distinguished by that softness and pliability of
character, which properly belongs to women. An Italian proverb says:
'_who knows not how to feign, knows not how to live_.' Is not that a
woman's proverb? In truth, how can the manly character be formed upon
true principles of dignity and strength, in a country which affords no
military career of glory, which contains no free institutions? Hence it
is, that they direct their minds to all the little arts of cunning; they
treat life like a game of chess, in which success is everything. All
that remains to them from antiquity, is something gigantic in their
expressions and in their external magnificence; but this baseless
grandeur is frequently accompanied by all that is vulgar in taste, and
miserably negligent in domestic life. Is this, Corinne, the nation which
you would be expected to prefer to every other? Is this the nation whose
roaring applauses are so necessary to you, that every other destiny
would appear dull and congenial compared with their noisy '_bravos_?'
Who could flatter himself with being able to render you happy away from
these dear scenes of tumult? What an inconceivable character is that of
Corinne! profound in sentiment, but frivolous in taste; independent from
innate pride, yet servile from the need of distraction! She is a
sorceress whose spells alternately alarm and then allay the fears which
they have created; who dazzles our view in native sublimity, and then,
all of a sudden disappears from that region where she is without her
like, to lose herself in an indiscriminate crowd. Corinne, Corinne, he
who is your adorer cannot help feeling his love disturbed by fear!

"OSWALD."

Corinne, on reading this letter, was much incensed at the inveterate
prejudices which Oswald appeared to entertain of her country. But she
was happy enough in her conjectures, to discover that she owed this to
the dissatisfaction he experienced at the _fete_, and to her refusing to
see him e