Corinne, also,—­the young and beautiful Corinne,—­was kneeling behind the train of priests, and the soft light reflected on her countenance, gave it a pale hue, without diminishing the lustre of her eyes.  Oswald contemplated her as a beautiful picture—­a being that inspired adoration.  When her prayer was concluded she arose.  Lord Nelville dared not yet approach her, respecting the religious meditation in which he thought her plunged; but she came to him first with a transport of happiness; and this sentiment pervading all her actions, she received with a most lively gaiety, all those who accosted her in St Peter’s, which had become, all at once, a great public promenade, and a rendezvous to discuss topics of business or pleasure.

Oswald was astonished at this mobility which caused such opposite impressions to succeed each other; and though the gaiety of Corinne gave him pleasure, he was surprised to find in her no trace of the emotions of the day.  He did not conceive how, upon so solemn, a day, they could permit this fine church to be converted into a Roman cafe, where people met for pleasure; and beholding Corinne in the midst of her circle, talking with so much vivacity, and not thinking on the objects that surrounded her, he conceived a sentiment of mistrust as to the levity of which she might be capable.  She instantly perceived it, and quitting her company abruptly, she took the arm of Oswald to walk with him in the church, saying, “I have never held any conversation with you upon my religious sentiments—­permit me to speak a little upon that subject now; perhaps I shall be able to dissipate those clouds which I perceive rising in your mind.”

Chapter v.

“The difference of our religions, my dear Oswald,” continued Corinne, “is the cause of that secret censure which you cannot conceal from me.  Yours is serious and rigid—­ours, cheerful and tender.  It is generally believed that Catholicism is more rigorous than Protestantism; and that may be true in a country where a struggle has subsisted between the two religions; but we have no religious dissensions in Italy, and you have experienced much of them in England.  The result of this difference is, that Catholicism in Italy has assumed a character of mildness and indulgence; and that to destroy it in England, the Reformation has armed itself with the greatest severity in principles and morals.  Our religion, like that of the ancients, animates the arts, inspires the poets, and becomes a part, if I may so express it, of all the joys of our life; whilst yours, establishing itself in a country where reason predominates more than imagination, has assumed a character of moral austerity which will never leave it.  Ours speaks in the name of love, and yours in the name of duty.  Our principles are liberal, our dogmas are absolute; nevertheless, our despotic orthodoxy accommodates itself to particular circumstances,