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sympathy with individual passion; it is a sense of the existence of love in its most extended and sublime capacity, and of our own participation of its good and of its glory: it is the great principle of the universe, which is there more condensed, but not less manifested; and of which, though knowing ourselves a part, we lose our individuality, and mingle in the beauty of the whole.

If Rousseau had never written, nor lived, the same associations would not less have belonged to such scenes. He has added to the interest of his works by their adoption ;. he has shewn his sense of their beauty by the, selection; but they have done that for him which no human being could do for them.

I had the Fortune (good or evil as might be) to sail from Meillerie (where we landed for some time), to St. Gingo during a lake storm, which added to the magnificence of all around, although occasionally accompanied by danger to the boat, which was small and overloaded. It was over this very part of the lake that Rousseau has driven the boat of St. Preux and Madame Wolmar to Meillerie for shelter during a tempest.

On gaining the shore at St. Gingo, I found that the wind had been sufficiently strong to blow down some fine old chesnut trees on the lower part of the mountains.

On the opposite height of Clarens is a chateau. The hills are covered with vineyards, and interspersed with some small but beautiful woods; one of these was named the “Bosquet de Julie," and it is remarkable that, though long ago cut down by the brutal selfishness of the monks of St. Bernhard, (to whom the land appertained), that the ground might be inclosed into a vineyard for the

miserable drones of an execrable superstition, the inhabi- . tants of Clarens still point out the spot where its trees stood, calling it by the name which consecrated and survived them.

Rousseau has not been particulary fortunate in the prescrvation of the “ local habitations” he has given to "airy nothings.” The Prior of Great St. Bernard has cut down some of his woods for the sake of a few casks of wine, and Buonaparte has levelled part of the rocks of Meillerie in improving the road to the Simplon. The road is an excellent one, but I cannot quite agree with a remark which I heard made, that “La route vaut mieux que les souvenirs.”

Notę 23, page 57, line 10.
Lausanne! ond Ferney! ye have been the abodes.
Voltaire and Gibbon.

Note 24, page 61, line last.
Had I not filed my mind, which thus itself subdued.

"If it be thus,
." For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind.”

Macbeth. Note 25, page 62, line 7. D'er others' griefs that some sincerely grieve. It is said by Rochefaucault that “there is always some.' “thing in the misfortunes of men's best friends not dis"pleasing to them.”

CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE.

CANTO IV.

Visto ho Toscana, Lombardia, Romagna,

Quel Monte che divide, e quel che serra
Italia, e un mare e l'altro, che la bagna.

Ariosto, Satiria iii.

Venice, January 2, 1818.

JOHN HOBHOUSE, ESQ. A. M. F. R. S.

etc. etc. ete.

MY DEAR HOBIIOUSE,

AFTER an interval of eight years between the composition of the first and last cantos Childe Herold, the conclusion of the poem is about to be submitted to the public. In parting with so old a friend it is not extraordinary that I should recur to one still elder and better, to one who has beheld the birth and death of the other, and to whom I am far more indebted for the social advantages of an englihtened friendship, than, — though not ungrateful - I can, or could be, to Childe Harold, for any public favour reflected through the poem on the

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