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.

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ORMOND; OR,

persecution. Impatience and murmuring took place of
sorrow and fear in my heart. When I reflected that all
human agency was merely subservient to a divine purpose, I fell into fits of accusation and impiety.
This injustice was transient, and soberer views convinced me that every scheme, comprising the whole,
must be productive of partial and temporary evil. The
sufferings of Constantia were limited to a moment; they
were the unavoidable appendages of terrestrial existence;
they formed the only avenue to wisdom, and the only
claim to uninterrupted fruition and eternal repose in an
after-scene.
The course of my reflections, and the issue to which
they led, were unforeseen by myself. Fondly as I doted
upon this woman, methought I could resign her to the
grave without a murmur or a tear. While my thoughts
were calmed by resignation, and my fancy occupied with
nothing but the briefness of that space and evanescence
of that time which severs the living from the dead, I
contemplated, almost with complacency, a violent or untimely close to her existence.
This loftiness of mind could not always be accomplished
or constantly maintained. One effect of my fears was to
hasten my departure to Europe. There existed no impediment but the want of a suitable conveyance. In the
first packet that should leave America, it was determined
to secure a passage. Mr. Melbourne consented to take
charge of Constantia's property, and, after the sale of it,
to transmit to her the money that should thence arise.
Meanwhile, I was anxious that Constantia should
leave her present abode and join me in New York. She
willingly adopted this arrangement, but conceived it
necessary to spend a few days at her house in Jersey.
She could reach the latter place without much deviation
from the straight road, and she was desirous of resurveying a spot where many of her infantile days had
been spent.
This house and domain I have already mentioned to
have once belonged to Mr. Dudley. It was selected
with the judgment and adorned with the taste of a disciple of the schools of Florence and Vicenza. In his