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"No; they have a supper at Latour's to-night; and we should not have thought of inviting Jean, but that he wants some conversation with your father."

"Lift me up," cried the little boy, who was trying in vain to scramble up one of the posts of the piazza, in order to reach a humming-bird's nest which hung in the tendrils of a creeper overhead, and which a light puff of wind now set swinging, so as to attract the child's eye. What child ever saw a humming-bird thus rocking, its bill sticking out like a long needle on one side, and its tail at the other, without longing to clutch it? So Denis cried out imperiously to be lifted up. His father set him on the shelf within the piazza, where the calabashes were kept a station whence he could see into the nest, and watch the bird, without being able to touch it. This was not altogether satisfactory. The little fellow looked about him for a calabash to throw at the nest; but his mother had carried in all her cups for the service of the supper table.

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While waiting for lights, the jalousies were once more opened by orders from the chair. The apartment was instantly pervaded by a dull, changeful, red light, derived from the sky, which glowed above the trees of the Jesuits' Walk with the reflection of extensive fires. The

The faithful and loyal negro saddled a horse, and rode off to meet and protect his white master, who now, with his friends, from the windows of the hotel, was witnessing the alarming sights which had disturbed the slave family. But first we have the The boy, tired out with his sport, began to play dinner, the dessert, the wine, the music, the oratory, with those books which had taught the great soul all in the finest style of the tropics, and of the white of his father patient endurance, and the magnani- lords of the Western Isles in their most palmy daysmous suffering of evil. He spelled out Epictetus- ere they had yet dreamed that black men possessed "What is that?" asked the boy. "Epictetus was a living souls. Here also, in a characteristic scene, negro," said Génifrède, complacently. "Not a negro, is first seen Henri I., the future Emperor of Hayti, said her father, smiling. "He was a slave; but he was a white." "Is that the reason you read that and then as indubitably a cook, as his friend, book so much more than any other?" "Partly; but Toussaint, was an overseer or postilion. Dr Propartly because I like what is in it." "What is in it-teau's speech, and all the speeches, or something any stories?" asked Denis. "It is all about bearing very like them, may easily be paralleled, at least and forbearing. It has taught me many things which once a-year, in any county or colonial newspaper; you will have to learn by and by. I shall teach you some of them out of this book." Denis made all haste so we pass the oratory, and come to action: away from the promised instruction, and his father was presently again absorbed in his book. From respect to him, Génifrède kept Denis quiet by signs of admonition; and for some little time nothing was heard but the sounds that in the plains of St Domingo never cease. His sister was poring over her work, which she was just finishing, when a gleam of greenish light made both look up. It came from a large meteor which sailed past towards the mountains, whither were tending also the huge masses of cloud which gather about the high peaks previous to the season of rain and hurricanes. There was nothing surprising in this meteor, for the sky was full of them in August nights; but it was very beautiful. The globe of green light floated on till it burst above the mountains, illuminating the lower clouds, and revealing along the slopes of the uplands the coffee-groves, waving and bowing their heads in the wandering winds of that high region. Génifrède shivered at the sight, and her brother threw himself upon her lap. Before he had asked half his questions about the lights of the sky, the short twilight was gone, and the evening-star cast a faint shadow from the tufted posts of the piazza upon the white wall of the cottage. In a low tone, full of awe, Génifrède told the boy such stories as she had heard from her father of the mysteries of the heavens. He felt that she trembled as she told of the northern-lights, which had been actually seen by some travelled persons now in Cap Français. Denis listened with all due belief to his sister's description of those pale lights shooting up over the sky, till he cried out vehemently, "There they are! look!"

Génifrède screamed, and covered her face with her hands; while the boy shouted to his father, and ran to call his mother to see the lights.

What they saw, however, was little like the pale, cold rays of the aurora borealis. It was a fiery red which, shining to some height in the air, was covered in by a canopy of smoke.

66 Look up, Génifrède," said her father, laying his hand upon her head. "It is a fire-a cane-field on fire."

"And houses too-the sugar-house, no doubt," said Margot, who had come out to look. "It burns too red to be canes only. Can it be at Latour's? That would keep Jean from coming.-It was the best supper I ever got ready for him.”

"Latour's is over that way,” said Toussaint, pointing

guests were rather startled too by perceiving that the piazza was crowded with heads; and that dusky faces, in countless number, were looking in upon them, and had probably been watching them for some time past. With the occasional puffs of wind, which brought the smell of burning, came a confused murmur, from a distance, as of voices, the tramp of many horses in the sand, and a multitude of feet in the streets. This was immediately lost in louder sounds. The band struck up, unbidden, with all its power, the Marseillaise Hymn; and every voice in the piazza, and, by degrees, along the neighbouring streets and square, seemed to join in singing the familiar words,

"Allons, enfans de la patrie,

Le jour de gloire est arrivé."

The consternation of the deputies and their guests was extreme. Every man showed his terror in his own way; but one act was universal. Each one produced arms of one sort or another. While they were yet standing in groups about the table, the door burst open, and a negro, covered with dust and panting with haste, ran in and made for the head of the table, thrusting himself freely through the parties of gentlemen. The chairman, at sight of the man, turned pale, recoiled for a moment, and then, swearing a deep oath, drew the short sword he wore, and ran the negro through the body.

"O master!" cried the poor creature, as his life ebbed out in the blood which inundated the floor.

The act was not seen by those outside, as there was a screen of persons standing between the tables and the windows. To this accident it was probably owing that the party survived that hour, and that any order was preserved in the town.

"Shame, Proteau! shame!" said Odeluc [a planter of humane and liberal sentiments,] as he bent down, and saw that the negro was dying. Papalier, Bayou, and a few more, cried "Shame!" also; while others applauded.

"I will defend my deed," said Proteau, struggling with the hoarseness of his voice, and pouring out a glass

of wine to clear his throat. His hand was none of the steadiest as he did so. "Hush that band! There is no hearing one's self speak. Hush! I say; stop !" and swearing, he passionately shook his fist at the musicians, who were still making the air of the Marseillaise peal through the room. They instantly stopped and departed. "There! you have sent them out to tell what you have done," observed a deputy.

"I will defend my deed," Proteau repeated, when he had swallowed the wine. "I am confident the negroes have risen. I am confident the fellow came with bad intent."

"No fear but the negroes will rise, any where in the world, where they have such as you for masters," said Odeluc.

"What do you mean, sir ?" cried Proteau, laying his hand on the hilt of his dripping sword.

"I mean what I say. And I will tell you too, what I do not mean. I do not mean to fight to-night with any white; and least of all, with one who is standing in a pool of innocent blood, of his own shedding." And he pointed to Proteau's feet, which were indeed soaked

with the blood of his slave.

"Hush! hush! gentlemen!" cried several voices. "Here is more news!"

"Hide the body!" said Bayou; and as he spoke, he stooped to lift it. M. Brelle made shorter work. He rolled it over with his foot, and kicked it under the table. It was out of sight before the master of the hotel entered, followed by several negroes from the plain, to say that the "force" had risen on several plantations, had dismantled the mills, burned the sugar-houses, set fire to the crops, murdered the overseers, and, he feared, in some cases, the proprietors. "Where ?" "Whose estates?" "What proprietors?" asked every voice present.

The mischief was now fairly at work. Henri Christophe, who had no knowledge of the movements of the insurgents, escorted, or rather protected, Bayou and Papalier, until they were met by Toussaint, though Papalier already suspected Henri, and indeed every black, of "treachery." On the ride, Papalier entered lightly into conversation with Toussaint, whom he questioned about the number of his wives and children. The negro had five children; and farther he did not reply to those light inquiries. His master whispered that Toussaint was rather romantic in domestic affairs. He had "married at twenty-five a wife so good that he never wanted more. He was prudish in such matters." The white Papalier was less scrupulous. At his ravaged plantation had dwelt Thérèse, a beautiful negress, whom he had educated and made his mistress. Though Bayou offered him shelter at his own plantation, when they discovered that his house had been plundered, dilapidated, and deserted by the slaves, he persisted in searching for one slave whose affection and fidelity he could not doubt. He galloped off.

Toussaint, also, pricked his horse into the court-yard, and after a searching look around, dragged out from behind the well a young negress who had been crouching there, with an infant in her arms. She shrieked, and struggled till she saw Papalier, when she rushed towards him. "Poor Thérèse !" cried he, patting her shoulder. "How we have frightened you!"

The young creature trembled excessively; and her terror marred for the time a beauty which was celebrated all over the district-a beauty which was admitted 38 fully by the whites as by people of her own race. Her features were now convulsed by fear, as she told what ad happened,--that a body of negroes had come, three ours since, and had summoned Papalier's people to et at Latour's estate, where all the force of the plain

was to unite before morning,-that Papalier's people made no difficulty about going, only stopping to search the house for what arms and ammunition might be there, and to do the mischief which now appeared ;-that she believed the whites at the sugar-house must have escaped, as she had seen and heard nothing of bloodshed; and that this was all she knew, as she had hidden herself and her infant, first in one place, and then in another, as she fancied safest, hoping that nobody would remember her.

"Now you will come with me," said Bayou to Papalier, impatiently. "I will, thank you. Toussaint, help her up behind me, and carry the child, will you? Hold fast, Thérèse, and leave off trembling as soon as you

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Thérèse would let no one carry the infant but herself. She kept her seat well behind her master, though still trembling when she alighted at the stables at Breda.

Great personages thicken upon us. In this slave girl is seen the future queen, "the good empress," the black Josephine of Hayti, the consort of Jacques I. Her feelings for her master, her white lover, after he has alienated her heart by outraging all that was tender and womanly in her fine original nature, are, if less morally grand, at least as true as the idealized hero of the tale.

Through the address and fidelity of Toussaint, his master was enabled to escape in an American vessel, and with a considerable share of his property. Toussaint does more as a slave he had always been loyal to the king; and he reasons, like a Christian and philosopher, with those of his friends who would now persuade him to become a chief and leader of blacks; though, when informed that the plantation will be visited by the insurgents, he feels that, with his single arm, he can do no more in defence of his master's property; and he also learns that his king, far off at Paris, is a prisoner and dethroned. He, therefore, resolved to fulfil his next duty-to join the Spaniards in the other end of the island, "and fight for his king with his king's ally."

Toussaint meant first to place his wife and children under the protection of his brother Paul, who is described as an indolent, good-natured, ordinary negro, a fisher on the coast; and then to volunteer his single services, independently and unfettered, to the Spanish commander, and not as a follower of Jean Français, the black insurgent leader, who force. The migration of the family, and the prowas going over to the Spaniards with a considerable miscuous concourse of negroes bent on the same errand as Toussaint, afford place to some sweet sketches of the domestic manners of the blacks; and to glowing descriptions of the gorgeous and enchanting mountain-scenery which they traversed. -Day dawned, and the sun arose the sun of the tropics-upon the mountains, forests, and rivers of St Domingo :

Back to the north the river led the eye, past the clus ter of hunters' huts on the margin-past the post where the Spanish flag was flying, and whence the early drum was sounding-past a slope of arrowy ferns here, a grové of lofty cocoa-nut trees there, once more to the bay, now diamond-strewn, and rocking on its bosom the boats, whose sails were now specks of light in contrast with the black islets of the Seven Brothers, which caught the eye as if just risen from the sea.

"No windmills here! No cattle-mills!" the negroes were heard saying to one another. "No canes, no sugar

houses, no teams, no overseer's houses, no overseers! | country in any way that they may find to be appointed. By God, it is a fine place this! So we are going down I wish to train you to arms, and the time has come. Do there to be soldiers to the king! Those cattle are not you think so?" wild, and yonder are the hunters going out! By God, it is a fine place!"

Isaac made no direct reply, and Aimée had strong hopes that he was prepared with some wise, unanswerable reason for remaining where he was. Meantime, his father proceeded,—

These exclamations are not merely true to na-
ture; they must be literal fact.
Toussaint is at once appointed a colonel by the have the sanction of Father Laxabon."
Spanish commander.

"In all that I have done, in all that I now say, I

Charmingly is the sylvan life of the negro-family and their friends described. Between Génifrède and her cousin Moyse, the son of Paul and afterwards an historical personage, the most ardent attachment springs up, which has very tragic, but effective, results in the progress of the story. Aimée, the second girl, knows no joy but in her brother Isaac; and Denis, the youngest son, is a brave and heedless boy, fond of all manner of dangerous adventures and wild sports. Margot alone, separated from the husband whom she worshipped, is quite as natural in character as her daughters, but not nearly so happy as her children in her new and bewildering state of freedom.

The only time when her heart was completely at ease and exulting, was when Toussaint came to see his family, to open his heart to his wife, and to smile away her troubles. Her heart exulted when she saw him cross the ridge, with a mounted private behind him, urge his horse down the ascent, gallop along the sands to the foot of the rocks, throw the bridle to his attendant, and mount to the platform, looking up as he approached, to see whether she was on the watch. She was always on the watch. She liked to admire his uniform, and to hear his sword clatter as he walked. She liked to see him looking more important, more dignified, than Bayou or Papalier had ever appeared in her eyes. Then, her heart was always full of thoughts about their children, which he was as anxious to hear as she to tell; and he was the only one from whom she could learn any thing of what was going on in the world, or of what prospects lay before themselves.

One day that Toussaint came, he said—

"I am not going to stay with you to-day. And, Margot, I shall take the lads with me, if they are disposed to go." "The lads! my boys!" "Yes," said Toussaint, throwing himself down in the shade. "Our country and its people are orphaned; and the youngest of us must now make himself a soldier, that he may be ready for any turn of affairs which Providence may appoint. Do you hear, my boys?" Yes, father," answered Placide, in an earnest tone. They have then murdered the king!" asked Margot; or did he die of his imprisonment?"

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"They brought him to trial, and executed him. The apes plucked down the evening-star, and quenched it. We have no king. We and our country are orphaned." After a pause, Paul said :

"It is enough to make one leave one's fishing, and take up a gun."

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I rejoice to hear you say so, brother," said Toussaint. Then, father, you will let me go," cried Moyse. "You will give me your gun, and let me go to the camp."

"Yes, Moyse: rather you than I. You are a stout

lad now, and I know nothing of camps. You shall take

the gun, and I will stay and fish."

The boys are alike eager to go with their father, who thus manfully expounds the duty of a free citizen in such an emergency:

"I do not know, my son, what we are to do next. When the parent of a nation dies, it may take some time to decide what is the duty of those who feel themselves bereaved. All I now am sure of is, that it cannot but be right for my children to be fitted to serve their

Toussaint was a humble and devoted Catholic, who paid the utmost reverence to his confessor; though, when his hour of trial comes, he thinks, reasons, and acts by his own independent judgment of truth and duty. The commissaries sent out by the Convention, had made tempting offers to the negroes in name of the French Republic. When Margot inquired what was the nature of these offers, her loyal husband replied—

in reply, saying that I cannot yield myself to the will of "Nothing that we can accept. I have written a letter any member of the nation, seeing that, since nations began, obedience has been due only to kings. We have lost the King of France; but we are beloved by the monarch of Spain, who faithfully rewards our services, and never intermits his protection and indulgence. Thus, I cannot acknowledge the authority of these commissaries till they shall have enthroned a king. Such is the letter which, guided by Father Laxabon, I have written."

"It is a beautiful letter, I am sure," said Margot. "Is it not, Paul?"

In her hut, on the sunny mountain-side, living in the sunshine, and subsisting on the spontaneous gifts of rich and bountiful nature, gathered by her children, Margot is perhaps as true to the negro character as Madame Toussaint in her palace, the lady of the Commander-in-Chief of St Domingo, although she never loses her simplicity. We shall, therefore, do Miss Martineau the justice to present the negro matron in her humble condition. Her grief really sprung from the departure of her husband and her boys, but her sorrows were attributed to a more dignified cause- -the murder of the king.

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"We have no one to look up to now," said Margot, sobbing; no one to protect us. Who would have thought, when I married, how desolate we should be one day on the sea-shore, with our master at Baltimore, and the king dead, and no king likely to come after him! What will become of us? Our good king would never have let Jean Français' wife dress herself in the best jewels the white ladies left behind, while the wife and daughters of his very best officer are living here in a hut, on a rock, with no other clothes to wear than they brought away from Breda. No, no; as my husband says, in losing the king we are orphans."

Aimée trusted that God would protect them all; but Margot justly fears that God, who takes care of the whole world, might be on the enemy's side as well as on theirs.

While Toussaint is with the Spanish army, fulfilling his military duties, and instructing his boys in science and philosophy-if we take them in them for the high destinies of free men, by pretheir essence, and not in their names-and fitting cept and example-his HOUR arrives-the hour of fate that which, from a loyal subject of Louis, and a good partisan officer, elevates him into the first deliverer of his race. M. Papalier, the planter, loath to abandon his property, had been skulking about the country; and he now reached

gination. As one inference after another presented itself before him-as a long array of humiliations and perplexities showed themselves in the future--he felt as if his heart was bursting...

Toussaint, in the disguise of a negro, to obtain, | quences of such a conviction were overpowering to his imathrough his interest with the Spanish commander, protection, and the means of leaving the island. Yet, so strong is habit in the thorough-bred planter, that, when this meanly-dressed, seeming negro entered the tent of Colonel Toussaint, he

said

"Close the tent," in the same tone in which he had been wont to order his plate to be changed at home, "And now, give me some water to wash off this horrid daubing. Some water-quick! Pah! I have felt as if I were really a negro all this day."

Toussaint said nothing; nor did he summon any one. He saw it was a case of danger, led the way into the inner part of the tent, poured out water, pointed to it, and returned to the table, where he sat down, to await further explanation.

Papalier at length reappeared, looking like himself. even as to his clothes, which Thérèse must have brought in the bundle which she carried. She now stood leaning against one of the tent-poles, looking grievously altered, -worn and wearied.

"Will you not sit down, Thérèse ?" said Toussaint, pointing to a chair near his own, Papalier having seated himself on the other side of the table.

Thérèse threw herself on a couch at some distance, and hid her face.

Papalier had told his errand-his fears, and the peril in which he stood-unable, meanwhile, to bridle the habitual insolence of a planter's feelings, even before the black man whom he came to supplicate for safety and life. Toussaint bore

this almost-unconscious insolence of the white man

with the utmost magnanimity. To forbear had ever been his principle: he could now afford to pity and forgive. Thérèse was less magnanimous. Her cruel and selfish master, alarmed that the crying of their child, on a former night-march, might expose him to danger, had taken it from her bosom, and permitted it to be murdered! Thérèse was now a woman, first awakened to a sense of her degradation as a woman-a mother cruelly bereaved of her child. She hated her white master, and proclaimed her eternal hatred of him, and of his race. Her African blood was on fire; and, while she fiercely spoke,

"O! silence!" exclaimed Toussaint. He then added in a mild tone to Thérèse, "This is my house, in which God is worshipped and Christ adored; and where, therefore, no words of hatred may be spoken."

In the conversation which followed, Toussaint first heard of the memorable decree of the Convention, conferring freedom, and the rights of citizenship, not alone on the mulattoes, but on the whole blacks of St Domingo. At which decree Papalier, humbled as he was, scoffed while he told of it, as a piece of impracticable nonsense and folly.

"Touissant was glad to be alone. Never had he more needed solitude; for rarely, if ever, in the course of his life, had his calm soul been so disturbed. During the last words spoken by Papalier, a conviction had flashed across him, more vivid and more tremendous than any lightening which the skies of December had sent forth to startle the bodily eye and amidst the storm which those words had roused within him, that conviction continued to glare forth at intervals, refusing to be quenched. It was this:-that if it were indeed true that the revolutionary government of France had decreed to the negroes the freedom and rights of citizenship, to fight against the revolutionary government would be henceforth to fight against the freedom and rights of his race. The conse

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A few hours may, at certain crises of the human mind and lot, do the work of years; and this night carried on the education of the noble soul, long repressed by slavery, to a point of insight, which multitudes do not reach in a lifetime. No doubt, the preparation had been making through years of forbearance and meditation, and through the latter months of enterprise and activity; but yet, the change of views and purposes was so great as to make him feel, between night and morning, as if he were another man.

The lamp burned out, and there was no light but from the brilliant flies, a few of which had found their way into the tent. Toussaint made his repeater strike; it was three o'clock. As his mind grew calm under the settlement of his purposes, he became aware of the thirst which his agitation had excited. By the light of the flitting tapers, he poured out water, refreshed himself with a deep draught, and then addressed himself to his duty. He could rarely endure delay in acting on his convictions. The present was a case in which delay was treachery; and he would not lose an hour. He would call up Father Laxabon, and open his mind to him, that he might be ready for action when the camp should awake.

He awoke the priest, who had obtained a copy of a decree, of which the good man thought so slightly, that he could not remember where he had thrown it. "With your sacred books, perhaps, father," said Toussaint, as the priest searched; "for it is a gospel to me and to my race;" and he proceeded to inform his confessor that, hitherto, he had loyally fought for his king, but now a higher duty summoned him. No longer would he hold a command "against the interests of his race, now at length to be redeemed."

the legal rights of the blacks." "I cannot remain in an army opposed to what are now

"You will give up your command ?" "I shall." "And your boys,-what will you do with them?" Send them whence they came, for the present. I shall dismiss them by one road, while the resignation of my rank goes by another." "And you yourself by a third." "When I have declared myself to General Hermona." "Have you thoughts of taking your soldiers with you?" "No." "But what is right for you is right for them." "If they so decide for themselves.-My power over them is great. They would follow me with a word. I shall therefore avoid speaking that word, as it would be a false first step in a career of freedom, to make them enter upon it as slaves to my opinion and my will.”

This, we fear, is painting partisan or patriotic leaders, and military chiefs, of whatever colour, and in whatever cause engaged, as they ought to benot as they are. Acting on these high and, alas! uncommon ideas, Toussaint reasoned farther with his confessor-a pious and loyal priest, but still only a priest-who thus remonstrates :

"But you will be giving up every thing. What can make you think that the French at Cap, all in the interest of the planters, will receive you?"

"I do not think it; and I shall not offer myself." "Then you will sink into nothing. You will no longer be an officer, nor even a soldier. You will be a mere negro where negroes are wholly despised. After all that you have been, you will be nothing."

"I shall be a true man." "You will sink to less than nothing. worse than useless before God and man. held a traitor."

You will be You will be

"I shall ; but it will be for the sake of a higher | light or direction; and Toussaint withdrew to his fidelity."

There was a long pause, after which Laxabon said, in

a tone, half severe and half doubting,

"So, here ends your career; You will dig a piece of ground to grow maize and plantains for your family; you will read history in your piazza, and see your daughters dance in the shade, while your name will never be mentioned but as that of a traitor. So, here ends your

career !"

"From no one so often as you, father, have I heard that man's career never ends.'

The priest made no reply.

"How lately was it," pursued Toussaint, "that you encouraged my children, when they, who fear neither the wild bull nor the tornado, looked somewhat fearfully up to the eclipsed moon! Who was it but you that told them that though that blessed light seemed blotted out from the sky, it was not so; but that behind the black shadow, God's hand was still leading her on through the heaven, still pouring radiance into her lamp, not the less bright because it was hidden from men ? A thick shadow is about to pass upon my name; but is it not possible, father, that God may still be feeding my soul with light, still guiding me towards himself? Will you not once more tell me that man's career never ends?" "In a certain sense-in a certain sense, that is true, my son. But our career here is what God has put into our own hands and it seems to me that you are throwing away his gift and his favour. How will you answer when he asks you, 'What hast thou done with the rank and the power I put into thy hand? How hast thou used them? What can you then answer, but I flung them away, and made myself useless and a reproach.' You know this-that you unite the influence of the priest with the power of the commander; and yet you are going to cast off both, with all the duties which belong to them, and sink yourself in infamy-and, with yourself, the virtues you have advocated. How will you answer this to God?"

"Father, was there not one in whose path lay all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them, and who yet chose ignominy-to be despised by the world instead of to lead it? And was God severe with him? For

give me, father; but have you not desired me to follow him, though far off as the eastern moon from the setting

sun?

"That was a case, my son, unique in the world. The Saviour had a lot of his own. Common men have rulers appointed them whom they are to serve; and, if in rank and honour, so much the greater the favour of God. You entered this service with an upright mind and pure intent; and here, therefore, can you most safely remain, instead of casting yourself down from the pinnacle of the temple, which, you know, the Son of God refused to do. Remember his words, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.' Be not tempted yourself, by pride of heart, to compare your lot with that of Christ, which was unique."

"He devoted himself for the whole race of man: he, and he alone. But it seems to me that there may be periods of time when changes are appointed to take place among men-among nations, and even among races, and that a common man may then be called to devote himself for that nation, or for that race. Father, I feel that the hour may be come for the negro race to be redeemed; and that I, a common man, may so far devote myself as not to stand in the way of their redemption. I feel that I must step out from among those who have never admitted the negroes' claims to manhood. If God should open to me a way to serve the blacks better, I shall be found ready. Meantime, not for another day will I stand in the light of their liberties."

These are high, and noble, and, above all, truly Christian sentiments-a pure gospel ;-and they may have been those of the black chief, in the crisis that had arisen. His spiritual guide having exhausted dissuasion, refuses to give him either

tent, and threw himself on his couch:

"No help! no guidance!" thought he. "I am desolate and alone. I never thought to have been left without a guide from God. He leaves me with my sins upon my soul, unconfessed, unabsolved: and, thus burdened and rebuked, I must enter upon the course which I dare not refuse. But this voice within me which bids me go, whence, and what is it? Whence is it but from God? And how can I therefore say that I am alone? There is no man that I can rely on-not even one of Christ's anointed priests; but is there not he who redeemed men? and will he reject me if, in my obedience, I come to him? I will try-I will dare. I am alone; and he will hear and help me."

Without priest, without voice, without form of words, he confessed and prayed, and no longer felt that he was alone. He arose, clear in mind, and strong in heart; wrote and sealed up his resignation of his commission, stepped into the next tent to rouse the three boys, desiring them to dress for early mass, and prepare for their return to their homes immediately afterwards.

The celebration of morning mass is picturesquely described. All the troops were present in the church, and, among them, Jean Français, a negro military leader of ferocious character, whose name must be familiar to those acquainted with the history of St Domingo. Jean, the slave expected by the Toussaint family on the night the insurrection broke out, is the poetical or moral contrast, and the jealous rival of Toussaint.

The Spanish commander complimented Toussaint upon the enthusiastic attachment displayed towards him by the black soldiers; and he replied almost in the identical words frequently used by O'Connell, when in his candid moods he chances to be told of his wonderful influence over his coun trymen

"It is by no skill of mine," replied Toussaint; "it is by the power of past tyranny. The hearts of negroes are made to love. Hitherto, all love in which the mind could share has been bestowed upon those who degraded and despised them. In me they see one whom, while obeying, they may love as a brother."

"The same might be said of Jean Français, as far as your reasons go; but Jean Français is not beloved like you. He looks gayer than you, my friend, notwithstanding. He is happy in his new rank, probably. You have heard that he is ennobled by the Court of Spain?"

"I had not heard it. It will please him."

"It evidently does. He is made a noble ; and his military rank is now that of lieutenant-general. Your turn will come next, my friend; and if promotion went strictly according to personal merit, no one would have been advanced sooner than you."

I

"I do not desire promotion, and

"Ah! there your stoical philosophy comes in. But will show you another way of applying it. Rank brings cares; so that one who is not a stoic may have an excuse for shrinking from it; but a stoic despises cares.Ha! we have some young soldiers here," he said, as Moyse and his cousins stood beside the way, to make their obeisance; "and very perfect soldiers they look, young as they are. They seem born for military service." "They were born slaves, my lord; but they have now the loyal hearts of freemen within them, amidst the ignorance and follies of their youth." "They are

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My nephew and my two sons, my lord." "And why mounted at this hour?"

"They are going to their homes, by my direction."

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