ophers, amongst whom Roland distinguished himself, and the
government sent him to Italy to watch the progress of commerce there.

He left his young friend with reluctance, and forwarded to her regularly
scientific letters, intended as notes to the work which he proposed to
write on Italy--letters in which the sentiment that displayed itself
beneath science, more resembled the studies of a philosopher than the
conversations of a lover.

On his return she saw in him a friend. His age, gravity, manners,
laborious habits, made her consider him as a sage who existed solely on
his reason. In the union they contemplated, and which less resembled
love, than the ancient associations of the days of Socrates and
Plato--the one sought a disciple rather than a wife, and the other
married a master rather than a husband. M. Roland returned to Amiens,
and thence wrote to the father to demand his daughter's hand, which was
bluntly denied to him. He feared in Roland, whose austerity displeased
him, a censor for himself, and a tyrant for his child. Informed of her
father's refusal, she grew indignant, and went to a convent destitute of
every thing. There she lived on the coarsest food, prepared by her own
hands. She plunged into deep study, and strengthened her heart against
adversity. _She revenged herself by deserving the happiness of a lot
which was not accorded to her_. In the evening she visited her friends;
in the day an hour's walk in a garden surrounded with high walls. That
feeling of strength which steels against fate--that melancholy which
softens the soul, and feeds it on its own sensibility,--helped her to
pass long winter months in her voluntary captivity.

A feeling of internal bitterness, however, poisoned even this sacrifice.
She said to herself that this sensibility was not recompensed. She had
flattered herself that M. Roland, on learning of her resolution and
retreat, would hasten to take her from this convent and unite their
destinies. Time passed on. Roland came not, and scarcely wrote. At the
end of six months he arrived, and was again deeply enamoured on seeing
his beloved behind a grating. He resolved on offering her his hand,
which she accepted. However, so much calculation, hesitation, and
coldness had dissipated the little illusion which the young captive had
left, and reduced her feelings to deep esteem. She devoted rather than
gave herself. It appeared to her sublime to immolate herself for the
happiness of