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.

JANE TALBOT. 75
your name you must change your habitation and leave
behind you whatever you found.
Think not, Jane, that I cease to love thee. I am not so
inhuman as to refuse my forgiveness to a penitent; yet I
ask not thy penitence to insure thee my affection. I have
told thee my conditions, and adhere to them still.
To preclude all bickerings and cavils, I eicelose the
letter which attests your fall. H. FIELDER.
LETTER XVII.
(ENCLOSED LETTER.)
To Henry Colden.
Tuesday Morning.
You went away this morning before I was awake. I
think you might have stayed to breakfast; yet, on second
thoughts, your early departure was best. Perhaps it
was so.
You have made me very thoughtful to-day. What
passed last night has left my mind at no liberty to read
and to scribble as I used to do. How your omens made
me shudder!
I want to see you. Can't you come again this evening?
but no; you must not. I must not be an encroacher. I
must judge of others, and of their claims upon your company, by myself and my own claims. Yet I should be
glad to see that creature who would dare to enter into
competition with me.
But I may as well hold my peace. My rights will not
be admitted by others. Indeed, no soul but yourself can
know them in all their extent, and, what is all I care for,
you are far from being strictly just to me!
Don't be angry, Hal. Skip the last couple of sentences, or think of them as not mine: I disown them.
To-morrow, at six, the fire shall be stirred, the candles
lighted, and the sofa placed in order due. I shall be at
home to nobody; mind that.
I am loath to mention one thing, however, but I must.
Though nothing be duoe to the absent man, somewhat is