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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CLARA HOWARD; OR,

a stranger, whom I had formerly known in my boyish
days as the son of a neighbouring farmer, paid me a visit.
This person had been abroad for several years, on mercantile adventures, in Europe and the West Indies. He
had just returned, and, after various ineffectual inquiries
after Wilmot, with whom he had formerly been in habits
of confidence, he had come to me, in the prosecution of
the same search.
After various preliminaries, he made me acquainted
with the purpose of his search. The substance of his
story was this:-After toiling for wealth, during several
years, in different ports of the Mediterranean, he at
length acquired what he deemed sufficient for frugal subsistence in America. His property he partly invested in
a ship and her cargo, and partly in a bill of exchange
for five thousand dollars. This bill he transmitted to his
friend Wilmot, with directions to reserve the proceeds till
his arrival. He embarked, meanwhile, in his own vessel,
sending, at the same time, directions to his wife, who
was then at Glasgow, to meet him in America.
Unfortunately, the ship was wrecked on the coast of
Africa; the cargo was plundered or destroyed by the
savage natives, and he, and a few survivors, were subjected to innumerable hardships and the danger of perpetual servitude. From this he was delivered by the
agents of the United States, in consequence of a treaty
being ratified between us and the Government of Algiers.
Morton was among the miserable wretches whose chains
were broken on that occasion, and he had just touched
the shore of his native country.
His attention was naturally directed, in the first place,
to the fate of the property transmitted to Wilmot. Wilmot, he heard, died suddenly. Wilmot's sister, his only
known relation, was gone, nobody could tell whither.
The merchant on whom his bills had been drawn was
partner in a Hamburg house, to which he had lately returned. The ships in which he sent his letters had safely
arrived. His bills had never been protested at any of
the notaries, but all the written evidences of this transaction, that had remained in his own hands, had been
buried, with his other property, in the waves.