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.

TIIE ENTIUSIASM OF LOVE.

51

ance, to find a clue to this labyrinth. I opened the
closets and drawers and turned over their contents, but'
found no paper which would give me the intelligence I
wanted. No script of any kind appeared,-nothing but
a few sheets, and the like cumbrous furniture. A writingdesk stood near the wall; but blank paper, wafers, and
quills, were all that it contained. I desisted, at length,
from my unprofitable labour, and once more renewed my
inquiries of Mrs. Bordley.
She described the dress and form of the young man
who attended the fugitive. I could not at first recognise
in her description any one who.m I knew. His appearance bespoke him to be a citizen, and he seemed to have
arrived from the city, as well as to return thither. She
dwelt with particular emphasis on the graces of the
youth, and frequently insinuated that a new gallant had
supplanted the old.
For some time I was deaf to these surmises; but at
length they insensibly revived in my fancy, and acquired
strength. I began to account for appearances so as to
justify my suspicion. She had not informed me of her
motions; but that might arise from compunction and
shame. There might even be something illicit in this new
connection, to which necessity might have impelled her.
The claims of Morton were made known to her by me,
but possibly they had been previously imparted by himself. To shun that poverty to which this discovery would
again reduce her, she listened to the offers of one whose
opulence was able to relieve her wants.
The notion that her conduct was culpable vanished in
a moment, and I abhorred myself for harbouring it. I
remembered all the proofs of a pure and exalted mind,
impatient of contempt and poverty, but shrinking with
infinitely more reluctance from vice and turpitude, which
she had given. I called to mind her treatment of a man,
by name Sedley, who had formerly solicited her love;
and this remembrance gave birth to a new conjecture,
which subsequent reflection only tended to confirm.
Sedley had contracted a passion for Mary six or eight
years ago. He was a man of excellent morals, and heir
to a great fortune. He had patrimony in his own pos