Wieland; or, The Transformation | Page 3

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WIELAND; OR THE TRANSFORMATION An American Tale

by Charles Brockden Brown

From Virtue's blissful paths away The double-tongued are sure to stray;
Good is a forth-right journey still, And mazy paths but lead to ill.

Advertisement.
The following Work is delivered to the world as the first of a series of
performances, which the favorable reception of this will induce the
Writer to publish. His purpose is neither selfish nor temporary, but
aims at the illustration of some important branches of the moral
constitution of man. Whether this tale will be classed with the ordinary
or frivolous sources of amusement, or be ranked with the few
productions whose usefulness secures to them a lasting reputation, the
reader must be permitted to decide.
The incidents related are extraordinary and rare. Some of them, perhaps,
approach as nearly to the nature of miracles as can be done by that
which is not truly miraculous. It is hoped that intelligent readers will
not disapprove of the manner in which appearances are solved, but that
the solution will be found to correspond with the known principles of
human nature. The power which the principal person is said to possess
can scarcely be denied to be real. It must be acknowledged to be
extremely rare; but no fact, equally uncommon, is supported by the
same strength of historical evidence.
Some readers may think the conduct of the younger Wieland

impossible. In support of its possibility the Writer must appeal to
Physicians and to men conversant with the latent springs and
occasional perversions of the human mind. It will not be objected that
the instances of similar delusion are rare, because it is the business of
moral painters to exhibit their subject in its most instructive and
memorable forms. If history furnishes one parallel fact, it is a sufficient
vindication of the Writer; but most readers will probably recollect an
authentic case, remarkably similar to that of Wieland.
It will be necessary to add, that this narrative is addressed, in an
epistolary form, by the Lady whose story it contains, to a small number
of friends, whose curiosity, with regard to it, had been greatly
awakened. It may likewise be mentioned, that these events took place
between the conclusion of the French and the beginning of the
revolutionary war. The memoirs of Carwin, alluded to at the conclusion
of the work, will be published or suppressed according to the reception
which is given to the present attempt.
C. B. B. September 3, 1798.

Chapter I
I feel little reluctance in complying with your request. You know not
fully the cause of my sorrows. You are a stranger to the depth of my
distresses. Hence your efforts at consolation must necessarily fail. Yet
the tale that I am going to tell is not intended as a claim upon your
sympathy. In the midst of my despair, I do not disdain to contribute
what little I can to the benefit of mankind. I acknowledge your right to
be informed of the events that have lately happened in my family.
Make what use of the tale you shall think proper. If it be communicated
to the world, it will inculcate the duty of avoiding deceit. It will
exemplify the force of early impressions, and show the immeasurable
evils that flow from an erroneous or imperfect discipline.
My state is not destitute of tranquillity. The sentiment that dictates my
feelings is not hope. Futurity has no power over my thoughts. To all
that is to come I am perfectly indifferent. With regard to myself, I have
nothing more to fear. Fate has done its worst. Henceforth, I am callous
to misfortune.

I address no supplication to the Deity. The power that governs the
course of human affairs has chosen his path. The decree that
ascertained the condition of my life, admits of no recal. No doubt it
squares with the maxims of eternal equity. That is neither to be
questioned nor denied by me. It suffices that the past is exempt