cease to manage him; and it is difficult, in such a case, to keep up one's enthusiasm: a woman's feeling for a man any way inferior to herself is rather pity than love; and the calculations, the reflections required by such a state, wither the celestial nature of an involuntary sentiment. The Italian prince was all grace and fertility of mind: he participated in my tastes, and loved my way of life; but, on an important occasion, I remarked that he wanted energy, and that, in any difficulties, I should have to sustain and fortify him. There was an end of love--for women need support; and nothing chills them more than the necessity of affording it. Thus was I twice undeceived, not by faults or misfortunes, but by the spirit of observation, which detected what imagination had concealed. I believed myself destined never to love with the full power of my soul: sometimes this idea pained me; but more frequently I applauded my own freedom--fearing the capability of suffering that impassioned impulse which might threaten my happiness and my life. I always reassured myself in thinking that my judgment was not easily captivated, and that no man could answer my ideal of masculine mind and character. I hoped ever to escape the absolute power of love, by perceiving some defects in those who charmed me. I then knew not that there are faults which increase our passion by the inquietude they cause. Oswald! the melancholy indecision which discourages you--the severity of your opinions--troubles my repose, without decreasing my affection. I often think that it will never make me happy; but then it is always myself I judge, and not you. And now you know my history--my flight from England--my change of name--my heart's inconstancy: I have concealed nothing. Doubtless you think that fancy hath oft misled me; but, if society bound _us_ not by chains from which men are free, what were there in my life which should prevent your loving me? Have I ever deceived? have I ever wronged any one? has my mind been seared by vulgar interests? Sincerity, good-will, and pride--does God ask more from an orphan alone in the world? Happy the women who, in their early youth, meet those they ought to love forever; but do I the less deserve you for having known you too late? Yet, I assure you, my Lord, and you may trust my frankness, could I but pass my life near you, methinks, despite the loss of the greatest happiness and glory I can imagine; I would not be your wife. Perhaps such marriage were to you a sacrifice: you may one day regret the fair Lucy, my sister to whom your father destined you. She is twelve years my younger; her name is stainless as the first flower of spring; we should be obliged, in England, to revive mine, which is now as that of the dead. Lucy, I know, has a pure and gentle spirit; if I may judge from her childhood, she may become capable of understanding--loving you. Oswald, you are free. When you desire it, your ring shall be restored to you.