THE FEMALE SCULPTOR. 229 



Statue. He busied himself in vain conjectures upon the true author 

 of this anonymous work. He attributed it to a young artist who 

 gave the most happy hopes, and who had doubtless feared to make 

 himself known. But the admiration bestowed produced a nervous 

 agitation, which is resistless. Maria could not hear this concert of 

 praises without being moved almost to tears ; and it was thus that 

 her secret was divulged. Her master, who was far from supposing 

 that she had ever in the least studied the fine arts, remained some 

 time immoveable with surprise and compassion. He afterwards 

 complimented her with dignity upon the success which she had just 

 obtained, in declaring that he wished no longer to be served by her. 

 He even desired henceforth to contribute all his means in order to 

 the completion of her instruction, and assigned to her as the place 

 for her labours his own work room. Maria, confused, had no words 

 to express that which passed in her soul. The joy of Corona, her 

 friend, when she was conducted to the Capitol, was not less lively 

 than her own. 



But, by the most deplorable catastrophe, Maria did not long enjoy 

 the advantages which so delightful a triumph had procured her. 

 She shone only for an instant, and was extinguished as a meteor. 

 Vanquished by labour and painful night watchings, she was seized 

 with consumption, and a short time afterwards was seen to sink under 

 the fatigues which she bad undergone. The physician Corona, who 

 had taken an active part in her success, bestowed upon her all his 

 attentive cares in this unhappy condition. But he could not prevail 

 to force death from that noble heart which had never beaten but for 

 glory ; and soon the laurels of Maria were covered with a funereal 

 crape. All who had known this interesting person, bewailed her 

 exceedingly. Corona related this history to show the ascendancy of 

 an example upon a great geniiis. It is then an innate disposition, 

 this ardour for the fine arts, this fever of imitation, which subdues us 

 during waking, which agitates us during sleep, and which makes us 

 to aim at excellence by the very nature of our faculties. Genius is 

 the gift of Heaven ; but it is to emulation, the influences which 

 fertilize it are owiucr. 



