British Library, Day Two

Today was occupied with about 2/3 of Present Times and Modern Manners (1810), a four-volume monstrosity with no obvious redeeming virtues.  My manners, I have to say, were lapsing significantly.  The plot, so far, involves a Christian family of depressingly angelic purity.  Nobody has any flaws, although the mother is maybe a tad inclined to be overemotional.  In other words, everyone is irredeemably dull, although their souls are no doubt in excellent shape.  Dad, the Rector, dies in the first volume--talking at great length, of course--which leaves his unhappy wife and daughter trekking off to London (his son is busy being a naval hero).  Although his daughter's mind is unconsciously preoccupied with Clifford, a man of high virtue (yawn) whom they met when his horses were beset by sheep (you had to be there), she instead falls prey to the machinations of Clifford's cousin and lookalike, a rakish earl named Colebrook.  At the time I stopped reading, our heroine was thinking that maybe this engagement was not such a hot plan.  The novel is primarily notable for characters "bedewing" everything with tears of various sorts (crystal, pearly, lucent, etc.), and for young ladies with "roseate" cheeks (simple blushes not sufficing for the author).  In any event, I needed to leave early in order to change for the ballet, so my brain was saved from further assault for the present.  It renews tomorrow, alas.