ONE beautiful, , summer evening, after in a of , till the lamp of night arose to illumine the objects around me, I seated myself on the bank of a river; a weeping spread over me its branches, which so as to sweep the stream. An antique tower, partly in ruins, in , and surrounded with and , was the only building to be seen.  
I had been reading a tale, which in strong colours impressed itself on my memory, and led me to reflect on the strange pleasure we sometimes feel in the most adventures. What, said I to myself, can occasion it? Can the human heart feel any delight in the misfortunes of others?—Forbid it Heaven!
 
My eyes were on the surface of the water; the soft beams of Luna sported on the curling waves, and all nature seemed hushed to ; when a gentle stole upon my senses, and methought a being of angelic form seated herself before me.
 
A of the palest hung over her shoulders to the ground, her flaxen hair fell in waving curls on her lovely neck, and a white veil, almost , shaded her face. As she lifted it up, she sighed, and continued for some moments silent. Never did I a so delicate; and, notwithstanding a smile sported on her coral lips, her lovely blue eyes were surcharged with tears, and resembled violets dropping with dew. Below her veil she wore a wreath of amarinths and jessamines. "Wonder not," said she, in accents soft as the breath of , "that a state of can please. I am called Sensibility, and have been from my your constant companion. My sire was Humanity, and my mother Sympathy, the daughter of Tenderness. I was born in a <............