t can excite love, without possessing those
which promise happiness.

"CORINNE."

FOOTNOTE:

[21] Mr Roscoe, author of the History of the Medici, has recently
published an History of Leo X., which is truly a masterpiece in its
kind, in which he relates all those marks of esteem and admiration,
which the princes and the people of Italy have conferred on
distinguished men of letters; he also shows, with impartiality, that the
conduct of many of the Popes has been, in this respect, very liberal.

Chapter iv.

Corinne's letter made Oswald a second time repent the idea he had formed
of detaching himself from her. The intellectual dignity, the attractive
tenderness with which she repelled the harsh allegations he had made
against her country, affected him deeply, and penetrated him with
admiration. A superiority, so grand, so simple, and so true, appeared to
him above all ordinary rules. He felt that Corinne was not the weak,
timid woman, without an opinion on any subject beyond the sphere of her
private duties and sentiments, which he had chosen in his imagination as
a partner for life. The remembrance of Lucilia, such as he had beheld
her at the age of twelve years, agreed much better with this idea;--but
could any woman be compared with Corinne? Could ordinary laws and rules
be applied to one, who united in herself so many different qualities,
cemented by genius and sensibility? Corinne was a miracle of nature, and
was it not a miracle worked in favour of Oswald, when he could flatter
himself with interesting such a woman? But her real name and condition
were unknown to him. What would be her future projects were he to avow
his intention of uniting himself to her? All was yet in obscurity; and
although the enthusiasm with which Corinne had inspired Oswald made him
desirous of espousing her, yet the idea that her life had not been
wholly irreproachable, and that such an union would certainly have been
condemned by his father, threw his soul into confusion, and racked him
with the most painful anxiety.

He was not now so sunk in grief, as before his acquaintance with
Corinne; but he no longer felt that sort of calm, which may even
accompany repentance, when our whole life is devoted to the expiation of
a crime. Formerly, he was not afraid to abandon himself to his
recollections, bitter as they were; but now he dreaded those long and
profound reverie