LONDON:
Printed for G. G. and J. ROBINSON,
Paternoster Row.
1799.
A SIMPLE STORY.
CHAPTER I.
Not any event, throughout life, can arrest the reflection of a thoughtful mind more powerfully, or leave so lasting an impression, as that of returning to a place after a few years absence, and observing an entire alteration, in respect to all the persons who once formed the neighbourhood. To find that many, who but a few years before were left in their bloom of youth and health, are dead—to find that children left at school, are married and have children of their own—that some, who were left in riches, are reduced to poverty—that others, who were in poverty are become rich—to find, those once renowned for virtue, now detested for vice—roving husbands, grown constant—constant husbands, become rovers—the firmest friends, changed to the most implacable enemies—beauty faded. In a word, every change to demonstrate, that,
“All is transitory on this side the grave.”
Guided by a wish, that the reflecting reader may experience the sensation, which an attention to circumstances like these, must excite; he is desired to imagine seventeen years elapsed, since he has seen or heard of any of those persons who in the foregoing volumes have been introduced to his acquaintance—and then, supposing himself at the period of those seventeen years, follow the sequel of their history.
To begin with the first female object of this story. The beautiful, the beloved Miss Milner—she is no longer beautiful—no longer beloved—no longer—tremble while you read it!—no longer—virtuous.
Dorriforth, the pious, the good, the tender Dorriforth, is become a hard-hearted tyrant. The compassionate, the feeling, the just Lord Elmwood, an example of implacable rigour and injustice.
Miss Woodley is grown old, but less with years than grief.