Although modern sophistication easily points out flaws in Charles
Brockden Brown's story-structure, and reproves him for
improbability, morbidness, and a style often too elevated, yet his
work lives. His downright originality is worthy of Cooper himself,
and his weird imaginations and horribly sustained scenes of terror
have been surpassed by few writers save Edgar Allan Poe.
Charles Brockden Brown
FIRST PART
I
Wieland's Madness
[As the story opens, the narratress, Clara Wieland, is entering
upon the happy realization of her love for Henry Pleyel, closest
friend of her brother "Wieland."
Their woodland home, Mettingen, on the banks of the then remote
Schuylkill, is the abode of music, letters and thorough culture.
The peace of high thinking and simple outdoor life hovers over
all.]
One sunny afternoon I was standing in the door of my house, when I
marked a person passing close to the edge of the bank that was in
front. His pace was a careless and lingering one, and had none of
that gracefulness and ease which distinguish a person with certain
advantages of education from a clown.
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