"The whole church is embellished by antique marbles, who know more than we do of vanished centuries. There is the statue of Jupiter converted into St. Peter, by the glory which has been set upon its head. The general expression of the place perfectly characterizes a mixture of obscure dogmas and sumptuous ceremonies; a mine of sad ideas, but such as may be soothingly applied; severe doctrines, capable of mild interpretation: Christian theology and Pagan images; in fact, the most admirable union of all the majestic splendors which man can give to his worship of the Divinity. Tombs decked by the arts can scarcely represent death as a formidable enemy: we do not, indeed, like the ancients, carve sports and dances on the sarcophagus: but thought is diverted from the bier by works that tell of immortality even from the altar of death. Thus animated, we feel not that freezing silence which constantly watches over a northern sepulchre."--"It is doubtless the purpose with us," said Oswald, "to surround death with appropriate gloom: ere we were enlightened by Christianity, such was our mythologic bias. Ossian called around the tomb funereal chants, such as here you would fain forget. I know not if I should wish that your fair sky may so far change my mood." "Yet think not," said Corinne, "that we are either fickle or frivolous; we have too little vanity: indolence may yield our lives some intervals of oblivion, but they can neither sate nor wither up the heart; unfortunately we are often scared from this repose by passions more terrible than those of habitually active minds." They were now at the door. "One more glance!" said Nevil. "See how insignificant is man in the presence of devotion, while we shrink even before its material emblem: behold what duration man can give to his achievements, while his own date is so brief that he soon survives but in his fame. This temple is an image of infinitude; there are no bounds for the sentiments to which it gives birth; the hosts of past and future years it suggests for speculation. On leaving it we seem quitting a world of heavenly thought for one of common interests; exchanging religion and eternity for the trivial pursuits of time." Corinne pointed out the bas-reliefs, from Ovid's Metamorphoses, on the doors. "We shame not," she said, "in the pagan trophies which art has hallowed. The wonders of genius always awaken holy feelings in the soul, and we pay homage to Christianity in tribute of all the best works that other faiths have inspired." Oswald smiled at this explanation. "Believe me, my Lord," continued Corinne, "there is much sincerity among people of lively fancy. To-morrow, if you like, I will take you to the Capitol, and I trust I have many such days in store for you; but--when they are over--must you depart?" She checked herself, fearing that she had said too much. "No, Corinne," cried Oswald, "I cannot renounce this gleam of bliss, which my guardian angel seems to shower on me from above."