the dark and gloomy verdure of the Palatine; the ruins of the palace of
the Caesars; the mount of Fable, of Fame, of Luxury (the Three Epochs of
Nations); the habitation of Saturn; the home of Tully; the sight of the
Golden House of Nero! Look at your feet,--look around; the waving weed,
the broken column--Time's witness, and the Earthquake's. In that contrast
between grandeur and decay,--in the unutterable and awful solemnity that,
while rife with the records of past ages, is sad also with their ravage,
you have felt the nature of eternity!

Through this vast amphitheatre, and giving way to such meditations,
Godolphin passed on alone, the day after his meeting with Saville; and at
the hour he had promised the latter to seek him, he mounted the wooden
staircase which conducts the stranger to the wonders above the arena, and
by one of the arches that looked over the still pines that slept afar off
in the sun of noon, he saw a female in deep mourning, whom Saville
appeared to be addressing. He joined them; the female turned round, and
he beheld, pale and saddened, but how glorious still, the face of
Constance! To him the interview was unexpected, by her foreseen. The
colour flushed over her cheek, the voice sank inaudible within. But
Godolphin's emotion was more powerful and uncontrolled: violent tremblings
literally shook him as he stood; he gasped for breath: the sight of the
dead returned to earth would have affected him less.

In this immense ruin--in the spot where, most of earth, man feels the
significance of an individual life, or of the rapid years over which it
extends, he had encountered, suddenly, the being who had coloured all his
existence. He was reminded at once of the grand epoch of his life and of
its utter unimportance. But these are the thoughts that would occur
rather to us than him. Thought at that moment was an intolerable flash
that burst on him for an instant, and then left all in darkness. He clung