like the magic of Prospero, you can only be delivered from its influence by abiding the fulness of time; or, in other words, by reading every page of the book.
Our author's last novel was entitled "Jane Talbot." It was published in 1804. At the latter end of this year he was married to Miss Elizabeth Linn, and from that time settled himself permanently in his native city of Philadelphia. He continued to be occupied in literary pursuits, and speculations, particularly in the annual publication of "The American Register," of which five volumes were published before his death.
But his tendency to consumption began now to make rapid advances on him, encouraged by his intense study and sedentary habits. His friends were, not without cause, seriously alarmed, and frequently urged him to seek, in the salutary effects of a sea voyage, and in change of scene and climate, some relief from the ravages of the insidious disease. But Brown did not, until it was too late, determine on a tour in pursuit of health. "It was resolved," says Mr. Dunlap, "that, in the spring of 1810, he should visit his brother James, who resided in England; but he lived not to see that spring. On the 10th of November, 1809, he was attacked by a violent pain in his side, for which he was bled, and retired to his chamber to be nursed, as he thought, for a few days. From this time to the twenty-second of February, he was confined to his room; his sufferings were then relieved by death. During this long confinement, he scarcely ever enjoyed ease, and sometimes suffered greatly; yet he never uttered a murmur or impatient exclamation, and scarcely a complaint.
"Such is the testimony of one who witnessed, with
