When she observed my surprise and delight, she added, “believe me, my dear friend, the age in which religious error held her empire undisputed is gone by. The human mind, however slow, however opposed its progress, is still, by a divine and invariable law, propelled towards truth, and must finally attain that goal which reason has erected in every breast. Of the many who are the inheritors of _our_ persuasion, _all_ are not devoted to its errors, or influenced by its superstitions. If its professors are coalesced, it is in the sympathy of their destinies, not in the dogmas of their belief. If they are allied, it is by the tie of temporal interest, not by the bond of speculative opinion; they are united as _men_, not as sectaries; and once incorporated in the great mass of general society, their feelings will become diffusive as their interests; their affections, like their privileges, will be in common; the limited throb with which their hearts now beat towards each other, under the influence of a kindred fate, will then be animated to the nobler pulsation of universal philanthropy; and, as the acknowledged members of the first of all human communities they will forget they had ever been the _individual_ adherents of an alienated body.” The priest now returned to us, and was followed by the multitude, who crowded round this venerable and adored pastor: some to obtain his benediction for themselves, others his prayers for their friends, and all his advice or notice: while Glorvina, whom they had not at first perceived, stood like an idol in the midst of them, receiving that adoration which the admiring gaze of some, and the adulatory exclamations of others, offered to her virtues and her charms. While those personally known to her she addressed with her usually winning sweetness in their native language, I am sure that there was not an individual among this crowd of ardent and affectionate people, that would not risk their lives “to avenge a look that threatened her with danger.” Our horses now coming up to the gate of the cemetry, we insisted on walking back as far as the drawbridge with Glorvina. When we reached it, the priest saluted her cheek with paternal freedom, and gave her his blessing, while I was put off with an offer of the hand; but when, for the first time, I felt its soft clasp return the pressure of mine, I no longer envied the priest his cold salute; for oh! cold is every enjoyment which is unreciprocated. Reverberated bliss alone can touch the heart.