tears. There was something mocking to human passion in the very antiquity
of the spot; four-and-twenty centuries had passed away since the origin of
the tale that made it holy--and that tale, too, was fable! What, in this
vast accumulation of the sands of time, was a solitary atom! What, among
the millions, the myriads, that around that desolate spot had loved, and
forgotten love, was the brief passion of one mortal, withering as it
sprung! Thus differently moralises the heart, according to the passion
which bestows on it the text.

Before he regained his home, Godolphin's resolve was taken. The next day
he had promised Constance to attend her to Tivoli; he resolved then to
take leave of her, and on the following day to return to Lucilla. He
remembered, with bitter reproach, that he had not written to her for a
length of time, treble the accustomed interval between his letters; and
felt that, while at the moment she had written the lines he had now
pressed to his bosom, she was expecting, with unutterable fondness and
anxiety, to receive his lukewarm assurances of continued love, the letter
he was about to write in answer to hers was the first one that would greet
her eyes. But he resolved, that in that letter, at least, she should not
be disappointed. He wrote at length, and with all the outpourings of a
tenderness reawakened by remorse. He informed her of his immediate
return, and even forced himself to dwell upon it with kindly hypocrisy of
transport. For the first time for several weeks, he felt satisfied with
himself as he sealed his letter. It is doubtful whether that letter
Lucilla ever received.

CHAPTER XL.

TIVOLI.--THE SIREN'S CAVE.--THE CONFESSION.