



Produced by Judith Boss and David Widger





CHARLOTTE TEMPLE

By Susanna Haswell Rowson



Contents:

CHAPTER I. A Boarding School.

CHAPTER II. Domestic Concerns.

CHAPTER III. Unexpected Misfortunes.

CHAPTER IV. Change of Fortune.

CHAPTER V. Such Things Are.

CHAPTER VI. An Intriguing Teacher.

CHAPTER VII. Natural Sense of Propriety Inherent in the Female Bosom.

CHAPTER VIII. Domestic Pleasures Planned.

CHAPTER IX. We Know Not What a Day May Bring Forth.

CHAPTER X. When We Have Excited Curiosity, It Is But an Act of
Good Nature to Gratify it.

CHAPTER XI. Conflict of Love and Duty.

CHAPTER XII. Nature's last, best gift: Creature in whom excell'd,
whatever could To sight or thought be nam'd! Holy, divine! good,
amiable, and sweet! How thou art falln'!--

CHAPTER XIII. Cruel Disappointment.

CHAPTER XIV. Maternal Sorrow.

CHAPTER XV. Embarkation.

CHAPTER XVI. Necessary Digression.

CHAPTER XVII. A Wedding.


VOLUME II.

CHAPTER XVIII. Reflections.

CHAPTER XIX. A Mistake Discovered.

CHAPTER XX. Virtue never appears so amiable as when reaching forth her
hand to raise a fallen sister. Chapter of Accidents.

CHAPTER XXI. Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see,
That mercy I to others show That mercy show to me. POPE.

CHAPTER XXII. Sorrows of the Heart.

CHAPTER XXIII. A Man May Smile, and Smile, and Be a Villain.

CHAPTER XXIV. Mystery Developed.

CHAPTER XXV. Reception of a Letter.

CHAPTER XXVI. What Might Be Expected.

CHAPTER XXVII. Pensive she mourn'd, and hung her languid head, Like a
fair lily overcharg'd with dew.

CHAPTER XXVIII. A Trifling Retrospect.

CHAPTER XXIX. We Go Forward Again.

CHAPTER XXX. And what is friendship but a name, A charm that lulls to
sleep, A shade that follows wealth and fame, But leaves the wretch to
weep.

CHAPTER XXXI. Subject Continued.

CHAPTER XXXII. Reasons Why and Wherefore.

CHAPTER XXXIII. Which People Void of Feeling Need Not Read.

CHAPTER XXXIV. Retribution.

CHAPTER XXXV. Conclusion.





PREFACE.

FOR the perusal of the young and thoughtless of the fair sex, this Tale
of Truth is designed; and I could wish my fair readers to consider it as
not merely the effusion of Fancy, but as a reality. The circumstances
on which I have founded this novel were related to me some little time
since by an old lady who had personally known Charlotte, though she
concealed the real names of the characters, and likewise the place where
the unfortunate scenes were acted: yet as it was impossible to offer a
relation to the public in such an imperfect state, I have thrown over
the whole a slight veil of fiction, and substituted names and places
according to my own fancy. The principal characters in this little tale
are now consigned to the silent tomb: it can therefore hurt the feelings
of no one; and may, I flatter myself, be of service to some who are so
unfortunate as to have neither friends to advise, or understanding to
direct them, through the various and unexpected evils that attend a
young and unprotected woman in her first entrance into life.

While the tear of compassion still trembled in my eye for the fate of
the unhappy Charlotte, I may have children of my own, said I, to
whom this recital may be of use, and if to your own children, said
Benevolence, why not to the many daughters of Misfortune who, deprived
of natural friends, or spoilt by a mistaken education, are thrown on an
unfeeling world without the least power to defend themselves from the
snares not only of the other sex, but from the more dangerous arts of
the profligate of their own.

Sensible as I am that a novel writer, at a time when such a variety
of works are ushered into the world under that name, stands but a poor
chance for fame in the annals of literature, but conscious that I wrote
with a mind anxious for the happiness of that sex whose morals and
conduct have so powerful an influence on mankind in general; and
convinced that I have not wrote a line that conveys a wrong idea to
the head or a corrupt wish to the heart, I shall rest satisfied in the
purity of my own intentions, and if I merit