only swell to be disappointed. We advance—up springs the shining path of love or hope—'a moment white, then gone for ever.' The land view, with its cocoa and palm trees, is very striking,—it is like a scene in the Arabian Nights. Of a night the beauty is very remarkable; the sea is of a silvery purple, and the moon deserves all that has been ever said in her favour."
In several places she playfully describes her troubles in housekeeping, to which she had never been accustomed previously. She tells her brother, "You would be surprised at the pains I have taken. I give out everything. I have made lists of everything, and I stand over the cleaning of everything. But I will give you the history of one day: I rise at seven, breakfast at eight—give my orders—give out everything; flour, sugar, &c. from the store—see to which room I will have cleaned, and then sit down to write—lunch at one on roasted yam, and then write—much interrupted by having to see to different things till six—dress—walk in the verandah till dinner at seven." At that hour Mr. Maclean came in from the court, but till then she describes herself as never seeing a living creature but the servants. "The solitude (she writes to Mr. Blanchard) is absolute. I get up at seven o'clock, and till I see Mr. Maclean at our seven o'clock dinner, I rarely see a living creature except the servants. You may suppose what a resource writing is. * * * If my literary success does but continue, in two or three years I shall have an independence from embarrassments it is long since I have known. It will enable me completely to provide for my mother. Mr. Maclean, besides what he did in England, leaves my literary pursuits quite in my own hands, and this will enable me to do all for my family I could wish."
