I saw nothing of Glorvina until evening, except for a moment, when I perceived her lost over a book, (as I passed her closet window) which, by the Morocco binding, I knew to be the Letters of the impassioned Heloise. Since her society was denied me, I was best satisfied to resign her to Rosseau. _Apropos!_ it was among the books I brought hither; and they were all precisely such books as Glorvina had _not_ yet _should_ read, that she may know herself, and the latent sensibility of her soul. They have, of course, all been presented to her, and consist of “_La Nouvelle Hel oise_” de Rosseau--the unrivalled “_Lettres sur la Mythologie_” de Moustier--the “_Paul et Virginie_” of St. Pierre--the _Werter_ of Goethe--the _Dolhreuse_ of Lousel, and the _Attilla_ of Chateaubriand. Let our English novels carry away the prize of morality from the romantic fictions of every other country; but you will find they rarely seize on the imagination through the medium of the heart; and as for their heroines, I confess, that though they are the most perfect beings, they are also the most stupid. Surely, virtue would not be the less attractive for being united to genius and the graces. But to return to the never-to-be-forgotten _first of May!_ Early in the evening the Prince, his daughter, the priest, the bard, the old nurse, and indeed all the household of Inismore, adjourned to the vale, which being the only level ground on the peninsula, is always appropriated to the sports of the rustic neighbours. It was impossible I should enter this vale without emotion; and when I beheld it crowded with the vulgar throng, I felt as if it were profanation for the “Sole of unblest feet!” to tread that ground sacred to the most refined emotions of the heart. Glorvina, who walked on before the priest and me, supporting her father, as we entered the vale stole a glance at me; and a moment after, as I opened the little wicket through which we passed, I murmured in her ear--_La val di Rosa!_ We found this charming spot crowded with peasantry of both sexes and all ages. * Since morning they had planted a Maybush in the centre, which was hung with flowers, and round the seats appropriated to the Prince and his family, the flag, crocus, and primrose, were profusely scattered. Two blind fiddlers, and an excellent piper, ** were seated under the shelter of the very hedge which had been the nursery of my precious rose; while the old bard, with true druidical dignity sat under the shade of a venerable oak, near his master. * In the summer of 1802, the author was present at a rural festival at the seat of a highly respected friend in Tipperary, from which this scene is partly copied.