d I shall ever have upon earth, I can no longer hear thy
voice, but teach me by that silent look which yet retains such power
over my soul, inform me what I am to do, that now at least in thy
celestial abode, thou mayest be satisfied with the conduct of thy son!
Forget not, however, that need of happiness which consumes mortal
man--be indulgent in heaven, as thou wert upon earth! I shall become
better if I am allowed to taste of happiness; if I am permitted to live
with this angelic creature, to have the honour of protecting, of saving
such a woman.--Of saving her?" continued he suddenly; "and from what?
From a life of homage, of fame, and of independence!"--This reflection,
which originated in himself, terrified him like an inspiration of his
father.

In conflicts of sentiment, who has not felt that kind of secret
superstition which makes us take our own thoughts for presages, and our
sufferings for a warning from heaven? Ah! how bitter is the struggle
between passion and conscience, in susceptible minds!

Oswald paced his chamber under the most cruel agitation, sometimes
stopping to look at the moon, which in Italy is so mild and so
beautiful. The aspect of nature inspires resignation; but it is without
effect upon a mind racked with uncertainty. The next day arrived without
bringing any relief to his distracted thoughts, and when the Count
d'Erfeuil and Mr Edgermond came to visit him, they were uneasy as to the
state of his health, so much was he altered by the anxieties of the
night. The Count d'Erfeuil was the first who spoke.--"It must be
allowed," said he, "that yesterday's entertainment was charming. Corinne
is a most admirable woman. I lost half her words, but I understood
everything from her voice and her countenance. What a pity it is, that a
rich lady should be possessed of this talent! For if she were in humbler
circumstances, and unrestrained as she is, she might embrace the stage
as a profession; and to have an actress like her, would be the glory of
Italy."

Oswald received a painful impression from this speech, and yet could
not tell how to make it known. For there was that about the Count, that
one could not be angry at what he said, even though it were disagreeable
to one's feelings. None but sensitive minds understand those delicate
precautions which they owe each other: self-love, so alive to every
thing that affects itself, hardly ever thinks of the susceptibility of
others.

Mr Edgermond prai