reason, and the impulses of the heart did not need correction.

"It is this quickness, this delicacy of feeling, which enables us to
relish the sublime touches of the poet, and the painter; it is this,
which expands the soul, gives an enthusiastic greatness, mixed with
tenderness, when we view the magnificent objects of nature; or hear of a
good action. The same effect we experience in the spring, when we hail
the returning sun, and the consequent renovation of nature; when the
flowers unfold themselves, and exhale their sweets, and the voice of
music is heard in the land. Softened by tenderness; the soul is
disposed to be virtuous. Is any sensual gratification to be compared to
that of feelings the eves moistened after having comforted the
unfortunate?

"Sensibility is indeed the foundation of all our happiness; but these
raptures are unknown to the depraved sensualist, who is only moved by
what strikes his gross senses; the delicate embellishments of nature
escape his notice; as do the gentle and interesting affections.--But it
is only to be felt; it escapes discussion."

She then returned home, and partook of the family meal, which was
rendered more cheerful by the presence of a man, past the meridian of
life, of polished manners, and dazzling wit. He endeavoured to draw Mary
out, and succeeded; she entered into conversation, and some of her
artless flights of genius struck him with surprise; he found she had a
capacious mind, and that her reason was as profound as her imagination
was lively. She glanced from earth to heaven, and caught the light of
truth. Her expressive countenance shewed what passed in her mind, and
her tongue was ever the faithful interpreter of her heart; duplicity
never threw a shade over her words or actions. Mary found him a man of