She gave at once the idea of a priestess of Apollo advancing towards the temple of the Sun, and of a woman of perfect simplicity in the common relations of life.  To conclude, in her every motion there was a charm which excited interest, curiosity, astonishment and affection.  The admiration of the people increased in proportion as she advanced towards the Capitol—­that spot so fertile in memories.  The beauty of the sky, the enthusiasm of these Romans, and above all Corinne, electrified the imagination of Oswald.  He had often, in his own country, seen statesmen carried in triumph by the people, but this was the first time he had been a witness of the honours paid to a woman—­a woman illustrious only by the gifts of genius.  Her chariot of victory was not purchased at the cost of the tears of any human being, and no regret, no terror overshadowed that admiration which the highest endowments of nature, imagination, sentiment and mind, could not fail to excite.

Oswald was so absorbed in his reflections, so occupied by novel ideas, that he did not remark the antique and celebrated places through which the car of Corinne passed.  It was at the foot of the flight of steps which leads to the Capitol, that the car stopped, and at that moment all the friends of Corinne rushed forward to offer her their hands.  She chose that of the prince Castel-Forte, the most esteemed of the Roman nobility, for his intellect and for his disposition:  every one approved the choice of Corinne, and she ascended the steps of the Capitol whose imposing majesty seemed to receive, with kind condescension, the light footsteps of a woman.  A new flourish of music was heard at the moment of Corinne’s arrival, the cannon resounded and the triumphant Sybil entered the palace prepared for her reception.

At the lower end of the hall in which she was received were placed the senator who was to crown her, and the conservators of the senate; on one side all the cardinals and the most distinguished women of the country; on the other the men of letters of the academy of Rome; and at the opposite extremity the hall was occupied by a part of the immense crowd who had followed Corinne.  The chair destined for her was placed a step below that of the senator.  Corinne, before she seated herself in it, made a genuflection on the first step, agreeably to the etiquette required in this august assembly.  She did it with so much nobleness and modesty, so much gentleness and dignity, that Lord Nelville in that moment felt his eyes moist with tears:  he was astonished at his own tenderness, but in the midst of all her pomp and triumph it seemed to him that Corinne had implored, by her looks, the protection of a friend—­that protection which no woman, however superior, can dispense with; and how sweet, said he within himself, would it be to become the support of her to whom sensibility alone renders that support necessary.