“You are severe, my dear Oswald,” replied Corinne; “it is not the first time I have remarked it.  If religion consisted only in a strict observance of moral duties, in what would it be superior to reason and philosophy?  And what sentiments of piety could we discover, if our principal aim were to stifle the feelings of the heart?  The stoics were as enlightened as we, as to the duties and the austerity of human conduct; but that which is peculiar to Christianity is the religious enthusiasm which blends with every affection of the soul; it is the power of love and pity; it is the worship of sentiment and of indulgence, so favourable to the flights of the soul towards heaven.  How are we to interpret the parable of the Prodigal Son, if not that love, sincere love, is preferred even to the most exact discharge of every duty?  This son had quitted his paternal abode, and his brother had remained there; he had plunged into all the dissipation and pleasure of the world, and his brother had never deviated for a single moment from the regularity of domestic life; but he returned, full of love for his father and of repentance for his past follies, and his parent celebrated this return by a festival.  Ah! can it be doubted that among the mysteries of our nature, to love and to love again is what remains to us of our celestial inheritance?  Even our virtues are often too complicated with life, for us to comprehend the gradations of good, and what is the secret sentiment that governs and leads us astray:  I ask of my God to teach me to adore him, and I feel the effect of my prayers in the tears that I shed.  But to support this disposition of the soul, religious practices are more necessary than you think; they are a constant communication with the Deity; they are daily actions, unconnected with the interests of life and solely directed towards the invisible world.  External objects are also a great help to piety; the soul falls back upon itself, if the fine arts, great monuments, and harmonic strains, do not reanimate that poetical genius, which is synonymous with religious inspiration.

“The most vulgar man, when he prays, when he suffers, and places hope in heaven, has at that moment something in him which he would express like Milton, Homer, or Tasso, if education had taught him to clothe his thoughts with words.  There are only two distinct classes of men in the world; those who feel enthusiasm, and those who despise it; every other difference is the work of society.  The former cannot find words to express their sentiments, and the latter know what it is necessary to say to conceal the emptiness of their heart.  But the spring that bursts from the rock at the voice of heaven, that spring is the true talent, the true religion, the true love.