The novels of Charles Brockden Brown, consisting of Wieland;or, The transformation. Arthur Mervyn; or, Memoirs of the year 1793. Edgar Huntly; or, Memoirs of a sleep-walker. Jane Talbot. Ormond; or, The secret witness. Clara Howard; or, The enthusiasm of love. With a memoir of the author.

128 JANE TAIBOT.
LETTER XXXIII.
To HLenry Colden.
Philadelphia, November 17.
I HAVE just sent you a letter, but my restless spirit
can find no relief but in writing.
I torment myself without end in imagining what took
place at your meeting with my brother. I rely upon
your equanimity; yet to what an insupportable test will
my brother's passions subject you! In how many ways
have I been the cause of pain and humiliation to you!
Heaven, I hope, will some time grant me the power to
compensate you for all that I have culpably or innocently
made you suffer.
What's this? A letter from my brother! The superscription is his.
* * * * * *
Let me hasten, my friend, to give you a copy of this
strange epistle. It has neither date nor signature.
"I have talked with the man whom you have chosen
to play the fool with. I find him worthy of his mistress;
a tame, coward-hearted, infatuated blockhead.
"It was silly to imagine that any arguments would
have weight with you or with him. I have got my journey for my pains. Fain would I have believed that you
were worthy of a different situation; but I dismiss that
belief, and shall henceforth leave you to pursue your own
dirty road, without interruption.
" Had you opened your eyes to your true interest, I
think I could have made something of you. My wealth
and my influence should not have been spared in placing
you in a station worthy of my sister. Every one, however, must take his own way, —though it lead him into a
slough or a ditch.
"II intended to have virtually divided my fortune with
you; to have raised you to princely grandeur. But no;
you are enamoured of the dirt, and may cling to it as
closely as you please.
"It is but justice, however, to pay what I owe you.