The scene will be for ever shifting from one set of people
to another, but there will be no mixture, all the good will be
unexceptionable in every respect. There will be no foibles or
weaknesses but with the wicked, who will be completely depraved and
infamous, hardly a resemblance of humanity left in them. Early in her
career, the heroine must meet with the hero: all perfection, of
course, and only prevented from paying his addresses to her by some
excess of refinement. Wherever she goes, somebody falls in love with
her, and she receives repeated offers of marriage, which she refers
wholly to her father, exceedingly angry that he should not be the
first applied to. Often carried away by the anti-hero, but rescued
either by her father or the hero. Often reduced to support herself
and her father by her talents, and work for her bread; continually
cheated, and defrauded of her hire; worn down to a skeleton, and now
and then starved to death. At last, hunted out of civilised society,
denied the poor shelter of the humblest cottage, they are compelled to
retreat into Kamtschatka, where the poor father quite worn down,
finding his end approaching, throws himself on the ground, and after
four or five hours of tender advice and parental admonition to his
miserable child, expires in a fine burst of literary enthusiasm,
intermingled with invectives against the holders of tithes.
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