ABSTRACT

In the house of Miss Million, the character of Emily had opportunities of unfolding itself not hitherto presented. Rarely had she quitted the side of a blind parent to enter into a contracted circle; and if this circumstance had been detrimental to her sagacity in human nature, it proved not unfavourable to the high culture of her elegant accomplishments. In the enthusiasm of solitude fine talents / are pursued with an intensity not experienced by those whose active circle, diversified by the festivities of dissipation, or the bustle of business, can only enable them to become lovers of art, and not artists. Solitude, which so frequently excites the querulousness of genius, is a severe mother who forms a lovely progeny; what in the great world had only been a momentary amusement, there becomes a permanent occupation. Sweet is the uninterrupted industry of genius, magical it’s contracted day, and delicious that inebriation of taste which becomes an absorbing passion. In solitude alone can now be acquired that difficult facility, which, though it performs its miracles of art instantaneously, has been the slow and painful acquisition of great practice and greater meditation. Emily rose with the sun; her prayer was a silent orison of aweful pleasure; her crayon was in / her hand during her morning walks, and if she brought home some romantic figure, some tenderer tint, from the aspect of nature, it was a new enjoyment. The clock told the hour of midnight, when, with regret, she relinquished her volume, and dissolved the enchantment of her fancy. 284 Often, as she sat by her father, her busy spirits were so diffused in her little employments, that Balfour could only hear her gentlest suspirations; and would say afterwards, I could almost see you Emily very busy.