Lord Nelville was hurt at this answer of Corinne.  He conceived she ought to comprehend that he was ready to tell her every thing, to promise every thing, if she would only confide to him her history; and this manner of avoiding it gave him as much offence as apprehension; he did not perceive that a sense of delicacy prevented Corinne from taking advantage of his emotion, to bind him by an oath.  Perhaps also, it is in the nature of a profound and genuine passion, to dread a solemn moment, however much desired, and to tremble at exchanging hope for happiness itself.  Oswald, far from judging in this manner, persuaded himself, that although Corinne loved him, she wished to preserve her independence, and intentionally deferred all that might lead to an indissoluble union.  This thought excited in him a painful irritation, and immediately assuming a cold and reserved air, he followed Corinne to her gallery of pictures, without uttering a word.  She soon divined the impression she had produced on him, but knowing his pride, she durst not impart to him her observations; however, in showing him her pictures and discussing general topics, she felt a vague hope of softening him, which gave to her voice a more moving charm, even when uttering the most indifferent words.

Her gallery was composed of historical pictures, paintings on poetical and religious subjects, and landscapes.  None of them was composed of a very large number of figures.  That style of painting undoubtedly presents greater difficulties, but affords less pleasure.  Its beauties are too confused, or too minute.  That unity of interest, which is the vital principle of the arts, as well as anything else, is necessarily divided and scattered.  The first of the historical pictures represented Brutus, in profound meditation, seated at the foot of the statue of Rome.  In the back ground, the slaves are carrying the lifeless bodies of his two sons, whom he had condemned to death; and on the other side of the picture, the mother and sisters appear plunged into an agony of grief:  women are, happily, divested of that courage, which can triumph over the affections of the heart.  The statue of Rome, placed by the side of Brutus, is a beautiful idea; it speaks eloquently.  Yet how can any body know without an explanation, that it is the elder Brutus who has just sent his sons to execution?  Nevertheless, it is impossible to characterise this event better than it is done in this picture.  At a distance the city of Rome is perceived in its ancient simplicity, without edifices or ornaments, but full of patriotic grandeur, since it could inspire such a sacrifice.—­“Undoubtedly,” said Corinne, “when I have named Brutus, your whole soul will become fixed to this picture; but still it would be possible to behold it without divining the subject it represented.  And does not this uncertainty, which almost always exists in historical pictures, mingle the torment of an enigma with the enjoyment of the fine arts, which ought to be so easy and so clear?