magnificent proportions it assumes when we are told that even to Henry Crawford, "in all the riot of his gratifications, it was as yet an untasted pleasure."
Emma, during the thirteen months in which we enjoy her acquaintance, finds plenty of mischief for her idle hands to do. Her unwarranted interference in the love affairs of two people whom it is her plain business to let alone is the fruit of ennui. Young, rich, nimble of wit and sound of heart, she lives through days and nights of inconceivable stupidity. She does not ride, and we have Mr. Knightley's word for it that she does not read. She can sketch, but one drawing in thirteen months is the sum of her accomplishment. She may possibly have a regard for the "moral scenery" which Hannah More condescended to admire; but nature is neither law nor impulse to her soul. She knows little or nothing of the
