Blue-Stocking Hall, (Vol. 2 of 3)Scargill, William Pitt
General
Blue-Stocking Hall, (Vol. 2 of 3)
Scargill, William Pitt
Epistolary fiction; Women -- Conduct of life -- Fiction; Women -- Education -- Fiction
Mrs. Fitzroy gave a searching look, and shook her head at old Bentley,
who growled under his breath, but for _once_ did not express his
scepticism in words. We now entered the upper lake, and all language
fails to do justice here.
Do you remember the happy valley of Abyssinia, described in Rasselas?
Here is in water what that was in land. So completely are you
surrounded with the magnificent range of mountains which inclose this
little world of beauty, that you seem as if separated at once from
all that is external to it. You perceive no means of either egress
or ingress, and but for the recollection of having entered by that
narrow pass which I have described, might fancy yourself let down from
the skies. This lake is sprinkled over thickly with islands, every
one of which would make a picture in itself. These are covered with
the most luxuriant evergreens, the glossy brightness of which might
warrant a belief (were fairies as efficient personages as in the
"olden time") that they had been under water till your approach, and
rose at that moment into air, "dripping odours" in all the freshness
of a new creation. While we gazed in astonishment at the scene before
us, silence again took up her sceptre, and no one appeared willing to
disturb her reign.
I cannot with accuracy describe any feelings save my own, though I
think I could read several minds amid the group; but for myself, I
felt actually raised above this nether sphere, and as if I was holding
communion with Deity, in this the first hour of my life in which I
beheld his perfect workmanship, unspoiled by the finger of man. I
was in a _trance_, and should have lost every remembrance that human
creatures surrounded me, had not M'Carty More, in a half whisper
directed to Frederick, who wins every heart which was not already his
own, interrupted my musings by saying, "Mr. Douglas, I come from the
rightful kings of this place, and though I am a poor man now, I can
make _you_ king, sir, of one of these _islands_, and, with the help
o'God, you _shall_ be king of it sure enough: pull my hearties for
M'Carty More's Island."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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