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"If it had not been so, I would have requested that they might be at our table this morning. As it is, I will not delay their journey."

And the general touched his hat to the lads, with a graciousness which made them bend low their uncovered heads, and report marvels at home of the deportment of the Marquis d'Hermona. Seeing how their father was occupied, they were satisfied with a grasp of his hand as he passed, received from him a letter for their mother, and waited only till he and his guest had disappeared within the tent, to gallop off.

Papalier's affair is also expedited; and now the critical moment has arrived. The honourable soldier of Spain could apprehend the high motives avowed by Toussaint more clearly than Father Laxabon; but he also had a duty to perform. He sank into profound astonishment, from which he was only roused when Toussaint, having laid aside his glittering uniform and polished arms, appeared in his old plantation-clothes-woollen cap in hand-ready to leave the camp.

Toussaint merely passed through the tent, bowing low to the general, and bidding him farewell. A confused noise outside, followed by a shout, roused Hermona from his astonishment.

"He is addressing the troops!" he cried, drawing his sword, and rushing forth.

Toussaint was not addressing the troops. He was merely informing Jacques, whom he had requested to be in waiting there, beside his horse, that he was no longer a commander, no longer in the forces; and that the recent proclamation, by showing him that the cause of negro freedom was now one with that of the present government of France, was the reason of his retirement from the Spanish territory. He explained himself thus far, in order that he might not be considered a traitor to the lost cause of royalty in France; but, rather, loyal to that of his colour, from the first day of its becoming

a cause.

Numbers became aware that something unusual was going forward, and were thronging to the spot, when the general rushed forth, sword in hand, shouting aloud, "The traitor! Seize the traitor! Soldiers ! seize the traitor !"

Toussaint turned in an instant, and sprang upon his horse. Not a negro would lay hands on him; but they cast upon him, in token of honour, the blossoms of the amaryllis and the orange that they carried. The Spanish soldiers, however, endeavoured to close round him, and hem him in, as the general's voice was still heard, "Seize him! Bring him in, dead or alive!"

Toussaint, however, was a perfect horseman ; and his favourite horse served him well in this crisis. It burst through, or bounded over, all opposition, and amidst a shower of white blossoms which strewed the way, instantly carried him beyond the camp.

After a gallant pursuit, Toussaint escapes, and carries many hearts along with him. The proclamation declaring the slaves free, became generally known, and

.

ceived of God as dwelling in the innermost of the Mornes, and coming forth to govern his subjects with the fire of the lightning, and the scythe of the hurricane, was yet able to revere the piety of Toussaint. The black bandit who had dipped his hands in the blood of his master, and feasted his ear with the groans of the innocent babes who had sat upon his knee, yet felt that there was something impressive in the simple habit of forgiveness, the vigilant spirit of mercy which distinguished Toussaint Breda from all his brethren in arms-from all the leading men of his colour, except his friend Henri Christophe. At the name of Toussaint Breda, then, these flocked down into the road by hundreds, till they swelled the numbers of the march to thousands.

Among the first of the black officers who followed him from the Spanish camp, was Jacques Dessalines-another historical personage, lately a slave, and afterwards the first Emperor of Hayti. With Papalier, Jacques had seen Thérèse; and,

He had strong reasons for remembering the first time he had seen Thérèse-on the night of the escape across the frontier. She was strongly associated with his feelings towards the class to which her owner belonged; and he knew that she, beautiful, lonely, and wretched, shared those feelings. If he had not known this from words dropped by her during the events of this morning, he would have learned it now; for she was declaring her thoughts to her master, loudly enough for any one who passed by to overhear.

Jacques entered the tent: and there stood Thérèse, declaring that she would leave her master, and never see him more, but prevented from escaping by Papalier having intercepted her passage to the entrance. Her eyes glowed with delight on the appearance of Jacques, to whom she immediately addressed herself.

"I will not go with him-I will not go with him to Paris, to see his young ladies. He shall not take care of me. I will take care of myself. I will drown myself, sooner than go with him. I do not care what becomes of me, but I will not go." "You will come with me to the priest, and be my wife," said Jacques.

"I will," replied Thérèse, calmly.

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"Go," said Papalier. "You have my leave. I am thus honourably released from the care of you till times shall change. I am glad that you will not remain unprotected, at least."

"Unprotected!" exclaimed Thérèse, as she threw on the Spanish mantle which she was now accustomed to wear abroad. "Unprotected! And what has your pro

tection been ?"

now.

"Very kind, my dear, I am sure. I have spent on your education money which I should be very glad of When people flatter you, Thérèse (as they will do; for there is not a negress in all the island to compare with you,) remember who made you a lady. You will promise me that much, Thérèse, at parting?"

too long who made me a woman," said Thérèse, devoutly "Remember who made me a lady!--I have forgotten upraising her eyes. "In serving him and loving my husband, I will strive to forget you."

"All alike!" muttered Papalier, as the pair went out. "This is what one may expect from negroes, as the General will learn when he has had enough to do with them. They are all alike."

Thérèse was with her husband when he, next day, joined Toussaint-whose force had already swelled to six thousand men. But great and important mili

The tidings of freedom rang through the ravines, and echoed up the sides of the hills, and through the depths of the forests, startling the wild birds on the mountain ponds, and the deer among the high ferns; and bringing down from their fastnesses a multitude of men who had fied thither from the vengeance of the whites and mulattoes, and to escape sharing in the violence of the negro force which Jean Français had left behind him, to pur-tary affairs-the pressure of mighty coming events, sue uncontrolled their course of plunder and butchery. cannot lead Toussaint to neglect the tenderest ofGlad, to such, were the tidings of freedom, with order, fices of humanity, and to speak peace to the bruised and under the command of one whose name was never spirit. mentioned without respect, if not enthusiasm. negro who did not know that there was any more world on the other side the Cibao peaks, had yet learned to be proud of the learning of Toussaint. The slave who con

The

Toussaint stepped back into the piazza where Thérèse sat quietly watching the birds flitting in and out among the foliage and flowers.

"Thérèse," said he, "what will you do this night and to-morrow! Who will take care of you?"

"I know not, I care not," said she. "There are no whites here; and I am well where they are not. Will you not let me stay here?"

"Did Jacques say, and say truly, that you are his wife ?"

"He said so, and truly. I have been wretched, for

long

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I was

And sinful. Wretchedness and sin go together." "And I was sinful; but no one told me so. ignorant, and weak, and a slave. Now I am a woman and a wife. No more whites, no more sin, no more misery! Will you not let me stay here?"

"I will: and here you will presently be safe, and well cared for, I hope. My wife and my children are coming home,-coming, probably, in a few hours. They will make this a home to you till Jacques can give you one of your own. You shall be guarded here till my Margot arrives. Shall it be so ?"

"Shall it? O thank God! Jacques," she cried, as she heard her husband's step approaching, "O Jacques! I am happy. Toussaint Breda is kind, he has forgiven me, he welcomes me,-his wife will-"

Tears drowned her voice. Toussaint said gently, "It is not for me to forgive, Thérèse, whom you have never offended. God has forgiven, I trust, your young years of sin. You will atone (will you not?) by the purity of your life;-by watching over others, lest they suffer as you have done. You will guard the minds of my young daughters: will you not? You will thank God through my Génifrède, my Aimée ?"

"I will, I will," she eagerly cried, lifting up her face, bright through her tears. "Indeed my heart will be pure,-longs to be pure."

I know it, Thérèse," said Toussaint. "I have always believed it, and I now know it."

The rapid elevation of Toussaint is traced, and attributed to the moral grandeur of his soul-the purity of his single heart. Beyond, above, the purest nature, much of this may be; but shall we for this scoff at the very aspiration after future good,-laugh to scorn the anticipation of a new, a Christian chivalry? Toussaint is now, in Cap Français, the directing head, the acting arm in the momentous affairs of the crisis; hailed as "the saviour of the whites, the black Spartacus, foretold by Raynal, whose destiny was to avenge the wrongs of his race." But in Toussaint's heart there was no place for vengeance. Some of his admirers and flatterers-for already the successful soldier had found flatterers-compared him with another hero who had arisen in France, a young artillery officer, named "Napoleon Buonaparte." | The Toussaint of the novel belongs to a far higher order of moral beings than the young artillery officer; and his character, whether true or not, is consistently maintained. Left alone, he feels perplexed and humbled by his exaltation, doubtful of himself, and strong only in faith and in the sustaining power of the mission to which he feels that he is appointed. There has seldom been a man, black or white, to whom power was offered, who did not finally find excellent reasons to silence his conscientious doubts against its acceptance; and Toussaint satisfies his mind, as to the course of duty, in a strain of reflection which some may say borders on cant of a new species; and which, had it really passed in open council, instead of the pages of fiction, might have justified the charge of gross hypocrisy and dissimulation, with which the negro chief has often been loaded. Thus he meditates :

"Low, indeed, are we sunk, deep is our ignorance, ab. ject are our wills, if such a one as I am to be the leader of thousands. I, whose will is yet unexercised,-I, who shrink ashamed before the knowledge of the meanest white,-I, so lately a slave,-so long dependent that I -am at this hour the ruler am an oppression to myself,over ten thousand wills! The ways of God are dark, or it might seem that he despised his negro children in committing so many of them to so poor a guide. But he despises nothing that he has made. It may be that we are too weak and ignorant to be fit for better guidance in our new state of rights and duties. It may be that a series of teachers is appointed to my colour, of whom I am to be the first, only because I am the lowest ; destined to give way to wiser guides when I have taught all that I know, and done all that I can. May it be so ! I will devote myself wholly; and when I have done, may I be more willing to hide myself in my cottage, or lie down in my grave, than I have been this day to accept the new lot which I dare not refuse !-Deal gently with me, O God! and, however I fail, let me not see my children's hearts hardened, as hearts are hardened by power! Let me not see in their faces the look of authority, nor hear in their voices the tones of pride! Be with my people, O Christ! The weaker I am, the more be thou with them, that thy gospel may be at last received! The hearts of my people are soft-they are gentle, they are weak-let thy gospel make them pure,-let it make them free. Thy gospel,-who has not heard of it, and who has seen it? May it be found in the hearts of my people, the despised! and who shall then despise them again? The past is all guilt and groans. Into the future open a better way

"Toussaint L'Ouverture!" he heard again from afar, and bowed his head, overpowered with hope.

"Toussaint L'Ouverture !" repeated some light, gay voices close at hand. His boys were come, choosing to bring themselves the news from Breda, that Margot and her daughters, and old Dessalines and Moyse were all there, safe and happy, except for their dismay at finding the cottage and field in such a state of desolation. live in a mansion henceforward," said Placide. Français had better have stood by his colour, as we do.” Placide told that Jean Français was going to Spain.

"They will not mind when they hear that they are to

"Jean

"We shall be better without him," said Isaac. "He would never be quiet while you were made LieutenantGovernor of St Domingo. Now you will be alone and unmolested in your power."

"Where did you learn all this?"

"Every one knows it-every one in Cap. Every one knows that Jean has done with us, and that the commissary is going home, and that General Laveaux means to be guided in every thing by you; and that the posts have all surrendered in your name; and that at Port Paix-"

66

Enough, enough! my boys. Too much, for I see that your hearts are proud."

"The commissary and the general said that you are supreme-the idol of your colour. Those were their words."

"And in this there is yet no glory. I haye yet done nothing, but by what is called accident. Our own people were ready-by no preparation of mine; the mulattoes were weak and taken by surprise, through circumstances not of my ordering. Glory there may hereafter be belonging to our name, my boys; but as yet there is none. I have power; but power is less often glory than disgrace."

"O father! do but listen. Hark again! 'Toussaint L'Ouverture!"

"I will strive to make that shout a prophecy, my sons. Till then, no pride! Are you not weary? Come in to rest. Can you sleep in my fine chamber here as well as at Breda ?"

"L'Ouverture" had been the epithet applied to Toussaint by an eloquent French commissary, and

it was caught up by the enthusiastic blacks as the the future of this world and of the next. You are the name of their deliverer.

The long, sanguinary, and ferocious struggle that followed, is judiciously kept in the background. Seven years are silently passed over-a blank in the story, but memorable from the complete regeneration of the colony under the government of Toussaint; memorable, also, for the growth and expansion of his understanding. now see him in his office, the enlightened and indefatigable statesman, the able general, the wise pacificator.

We

Jealous as he was for the infant freedom of his race, Toussaint knew that it would be best preserved by weaning their minds from thoughts of anger, and their eyes from the sight of blood. Trust in the better part of negro nature guided him in his choice between two evils. He preferred that they should be misgoverned in some affairs of secondary importance, and keep the peace, rather than that they should be governed to their hearts' content by himself, at the risk of quarrel with the mothercountry. He trusted to the singular power of forbearance and forgiveness which is found in the negro race, for the preservation of friendship with the whites, and of the blessings of peace; and he, therefore, reserved his own powerful influence over both parties for great occasions -interfering only when he perceived that, through carelessness or ignorance, the French authorities were endangering some essential liberty of those to whom they were the medium of the pleasure of the government at home.

true rulers of St Domingo; and we bow to you as such.”. went out, amidst the obeisances of the whole assemblage, Every head was immediately bowed, and the priests --some of the order wondering, perhaps, whether every mind there was as sincere in its homage as that of the commander-in-chief.

When will Lord Melbourne learn to address a

deputation of Scottish clergy in this fashion? or a deputation of manufacturers from Glasgow or Manchester, as Toussaint, the wise and philanthropic negro ruler did his subjects; entering into the most minute interests and comforts of the people, which, having come from among them, he perfectly understood. Last of all came those white planters, who had been reinstated in their lands, and were protected in them by Toussaint. They were enthusiastic in gratitude for the display of magnanimity of which they had not dared to

dream.

Toussaint, in his new position, knew how to maintain his dignity. While engaged in conference with the Creole planters, his old master, Bayou, who had just landed from America, on the assurance of protection, entered the saloon, and advanced, with extended arms, to embrace him.

back two steps.
"Gently, sir," said the commander-in-chief, drawing
"There is now a greater distance be-
tween me and you than there once was between you and
me. There can be no familiarity with the chief of a
newly-redeemed race."

M. Bayou fell back, looking in every face around him, to see what was thought of this. Every face was grave. "I sent for you," resumed Toussaint, in a mild voice, "to put you at the head of the interests of the good old masters; for the good alone have been able to return. free labourers. Make the blacks work well. Be not Show us what can be done with the Breda estate, with only just, but firm. You were formerly too mild a master. Make the blacks work well, that, by the welfare of your small interests, you may add to the general prosperity of the administration of the Commander-inchief of St. Domingo."

M. Bayou had no words ready.

The seven years so productive of social improvement in the colony, had also witnessed bright change in the family of the deliverer. The description of their new condition affords a favourable specimen of Miss Martineau's level manner, her ductility of fancy, and power of reproducing the ordinary images of domestic life, in a country not wholly removed from her experience; as, among the American planters of the south and west, she must have witnessed nearly similar things. The picture of the interior of the palace is sweet and engaging; and if the Negro Court is faithfully represented, it was certainly the happiest, the most rational, and not the least refined, We are not surprised. This was a lecture from which the civilized world at that time contained. his old black postilion; but Bayou found Madame The clergy, who found in Toussaint a dutiful less stately and more sociable, and the girls wonson of the Catholic church, brought him a good rederfully like other young ladies of their age; and port of the improved religious and moral condition from them he learned all the family history. The of his subjects. Numerous marriages had been boys had been sent to Paris for their education, celebrated; the children were attending the schools, and partly as hostages for the fidelity of their where the quarrels of those by different mothers father to the Directory. This is all most wonderwere disappearing; and the blacks who had indulged ful to Bayou; and so is the appearance of the statein a plurality of wives, were now liberally provid-ly Thérèse, converted into the lady of the black ing for those they put away. And for all this Toussaint thanked God, and lauded the servants of Christ, those holy men whose servant he called himself. A prettier speech could not be made to a clerical deputation, than this addressed by the negro potentate to the priests; who must surely have listened to it with great unction :

"Yon," said Toussaint, "the servants of Christ, are the true rulers of this island and its inhabitants. I am your servant in guarding external order, during a period which you will employ in establishing your flocks in the everlasting wisdom and peace of religion. I hold the inferior office of keeping our enemies in awe, and enabling our people to find subsistence and comfort. My charge is the soil on which, and the bodies in which, men live. You have in charge their souls, in which lies

NO. LXXXV.-VOL. VIII.

General Dessalines, and much more beautiful than when the mistress of his friend Papalier.

Having had so many examples of the humanity and gentleness of Toussaint, we are now permitted to see his inflexible justice, and also his deep mortification, when, on the arrival of the French commissioners, it is found that, with many presents and compliments, no secret recognition, no special letter, no brotherly greeting, came from Napoleon, the first of the Whites, to Toussaint the first of the Blacks. He speaks his disappointment with a frankness and high spirit, in accordance with the character with which it has pleased the author to invest him.

Toussaint is now at the summit of his earthly

B

prosperity. His family make progresses through the country in their way to their estates; and are every where received with the enthusiasm of which his deeds are the source. They are attended by artists and savans from Europe. The young people amuse themselves, cultivate the arts, and make love; preserving the distinctive characters formirth, gaiety, gentleness, or passion, and superstition, which has been assigned to each. Génifrède, the elder daughter, is a true African; superstitious, and a passionate lover; timid in presence of her great father, and giving her whole soul to her cousin. Yet the loving negro damsel displays the delicacy, with the tenderness, of the true womanhood of every clime and colour. The scenes of courtship between her and her lover Moyse, a tiger in his ferocious hatred to the whites, but gentle as a lamb with her, are in sweet accordance with the characters assigned them; and they, besides, prepare the reader for that catastrophe which they heighten by contrast.

done. It is not safe to lie and rest in one's bed, in this part of the world." And he made haste to stir his coffee with his trembling hands.

"Oh, you have often said that,-almost ever since I
can remember: and here we are, quite safe still."
"Tell the truth, child. How dare you say that we
have been safe ever since you remember?”
"I said almost,' grandpapa. I do not forget about
our being in the woods,-about
but we will not

talk of that now. That was all over a long time ago;
and we have been very safe since. The great thing of
all is, that there was no L'Ouverture then, to take care
of us. Now, you know, the commander-in-chief is al-
ways thinking how he can take the best care of us."
"No L'Ouverture then!' One would think you did
not know what and where Toussaint was then. Why,
child, your poor father was master over a hundred such
as he."

had been like him, they would not have treated us as
"Do you think they were like him? Surely, if they
they did. Afra says she does not believe anybody like
him ever lived."

"Afra is a pestilent little fool."
"Oh, grandpapa!"

"Well, well! She is a very good girl in her way; but she talks about what she does not understand. She pretends to judge of governors of the colony, when her own father cannot govern this town, and she never knew Blanchelande! Ah! if she had known Blanchelande, she would have seen a man who understood his business and had spirit to keep up the dignity and honour of the colony. If that sort of rule nad gone on till now, we should not have had the best houses in the island full of these black upstarts; nor a mulatto governor in this very town.

"And then I should not have had Afra for a friend, grandpapa."

"You would have been better without, child. I do not like to see you for ever with a girl of her complexion, though she is the governor's daughter. There must be an end of it-there shall be an end of it. It is a good time now. There is a reason for it to-day. It is time you made friends of your own complexion, child; and into the convent you go-this very day."

"Oh, grandpapa, you don't mean that those nuns are of my complexion! Poor pale creatures! I would not for the world look like them and I certainly shall, if you put me there. I had much rather look like Afra than like sister Benoite, or sister Cecile. Grandpapa! you would not like me to look like sister Benoite."

Miss Martineau does not attempt a connected fable. Her object is better effected by a series of sketches, illustrative of the state of society, and of those great changes which she wishes to represent. Leaving the children of Toussaint, and the black chief himself, at the dizzy summit of prosperity, though he is still anxious, alert, and watchful, we are led to the family of an old, tyrannical, French planter whom the revolution, and the retributive justice visited on his children, has nearly crazed— and to his granddaughter, Euphrosyne, a charming creature, and a beautiful conception of the candour, gentle waywardness, and warm, clinging affections of girlhood. Euphrosyne adores the negro commander-in-chief; and, however she may have escaped the contagion, feels nothing of the prejudice of colour; yet her parents had perished in the general massacre of the whites, while she was almost an infant, and she knows it. This bright and delightful creature is rather abruptly dropt in the course of the tale; and we can almost While this conversation was going on, a note from infer that she had, in part, been created with the Afra was secretly put into the hands of Euphrosyne, purpose of giving the rich treasure of her affections warning her that the cultivators were in insurrecto one of the Toussaint family, or to some sable tion, and marching to the town. The whites were youth; but that the artist had finally, and, as an consequently in imminent danger, and an asylum artist, wisely, shrunk from outraging that feeling at the Government-house was kindly offered. It which, whether right or not, is so powerful that it might be reached in safety through the garden of almost seems natural instinct, which makes Europe- the nunnery, which bordered on that of M. Revel, ans revolt from the idea of the marriage of white if no time was lost. The old man was obstinate, women with negro men. In the meanwhile, Eu- and stupid, and prejudiced; but Euphrosyne phrosyne is the affectionate minister of her que-managed him with delicate address-coaxed, and rulous and imbecile old grandfather, of whose cruelty as a slavemaster she happily knows nothing. In a lovely morning, she is seen in the balcony, playfully enjoying the fragrance of the flowers, and the beauty of the humming-birds flying about, while she yet carefully watches the feverish slumbers of her aged relative, M. Revel. When, on his awaking, she has kindly arranged his pillows, and endeavoured to amuse the old man, she brings in his coffee, and this conversation ensues :

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entreated, and prayed, though to no purpose. When Revel saw that there was disturbance in the town and imminent peril, he became even more senselessly stubborn. He would not betray his colour and his child, by trusting to the treachery of mulattoes! He would rather perish on his own threshold, and in his impotent fury,

He sank down on his knees by the bedside, and prayed that the earth might gape and swallow them up,-that the sea might rush in and overflow the hollow where the city had been, before he and his should fall into the hands of the cursed blacks.

"Grandpapa," said Euphrosyne, gravely, " if you pray such a prayer as that, do not pray aloud. I cannot hear

such a prayer as that." Struggling with her tears, she continued: "I know you are very much frightened, and I do not wonder that you are: but I do wish you would remember that we have very kind friends, who will protect us, if we will only make haste and go to them. And as for their being of a different colour,-I do wonder that you can ask God to cause the earth to swallow us up, when you know (at least, you have taught me so) we must meet people of all races before the throne of God. He has made of one blood all the nations of the earth, you know."

M. Revel shook his head impatiently, as if to show that she did not understand his feelings. She went on, however:"If we so hate and distrust them at this moment, here, how can we pray for death, so as to meet them at the next moment there? Oh, grandpapa! let us know Let us go to them now." The old man is, at length, conveyed to the Government-house, haunted by the terrors which conscience inspired. He had been a cruel master, and the day of retribution had again arrived.

them a little better first.

saint, in principle and temper, are altogether too
highly finished and too absolute to admit of the entire
Some touch of
sympathy of ordinary mortals.
human passion and infirmity would have brought
him, at times like this, nearer to the heart.
Moyse is executed, and Génifrède plunged into the
wildest despair. She refuses consolation from the
sympathy of Thérèse, or the spiritual ministrations
of the priest, and defies her hard-hearted father.
On hearing of her lover's arrest, she had left her
mother and sisters in the country, and flown to
deadly agony, the lovers had agreed that they
Cap Français, where, in prison, in the midst of
would perish together. The African poison, the
red water, concealed by Génifrède about her person
is discovered, and through the kindness of Thérèse,
the wretched girl is thrown into a stupor by a dose
of henbane, until the execution of her lover is
past. When Father Laxabon then seeks admis-
sion to her chamber, to impart spiritual consola-
tion, Thérèse implored him to spare her.

"I bring her comfort," said the father, turning reprovingly to Madame Dessalines. "His conflict is over, my daugher," he continued, advancing to Génifrède. "His last moments were composed; and, as for his state of mind in confession..."

coiled as if shot, and supported himself against the wall. He was stopped by a shriek so appalling, that he reGénifrède rushed back to the chamber, and drove something heavy against the door. Thérèse was there in an instant, listening, and then imploring, in a voice which, it might be thought, no one could resist.

"Let me in, love! It is Thérèse. No one else shall come. If you love me, let me in."

The insurrection had been fomented by the French Commissioner's jealousy of Toussaint, who is now fully occupied by public cares, but equal to the crisis: calm, self-possessed, energetic. Many historical events in the public life of the Black Chief are here introduced with good effect; and the increasing efforts of Toussaint to restore peace and good order—to maintain the laws-to soften prejudice and above all, to bridle the fierce spirit of hatred, and prevent acts of retaliation—are genuine history. It was his policy to pursue the course he did; but it was a generous and enlightened policy scarcely to have been expected from him. Toussaint, the real man, may have been ambitious and deceitful, but he could not have been cruel and blood-thirsty; and his just severity in repress-priest, who was walking up and down in great disturbing the sanguinary violence of the blacks, to which principle he sacrificed his nephew, Moyse, together with his confidence in the honour and integrity of the French, were certainly among the causes of his downfal. That the power which so easily crumbled and fell to pieces, could have been so firmly rooted-so thoroughly consolidated-so based on the affections of all classes, as Miss Martineau has chosen to represent it, is more than doubtful.

There was no answer.

"You have killed her, I believe," she said to the

ance, not with himself, but with the faithless creature of passion he had to deal with.

"The windows!" exclaimed Thérèse, vexed not to have thought of this before. She stepped out upon the balcony. One of the chamber windows was open, and fled down the steps from the balcony into the gardens; she entered. No one was there. Génifrede must have and there Thérèse hastened after her. In one of the fenced walks leading to the fountain, she saw the fluttering of her clothes.

"The reservoir !" thought Thérèse, in despair.

She was not mistaken. Génifrède stood on the brink of the deep and brimming reservoir, her hands were clasped above her head for the plunge, when a strong hand seized her arm, and drew her irresistibly back. In ungovernable rage she turned, and saw her father.

"They say," she screamed," that every one worships you. Not true now! Never true more! I hate.. I

curse

He held up his right hand with the action of authority which had awed her childhood. It awed her now. Her voice sank into a low shuddering and muttering.

"That any one should have dared to tell you that any one should have interfered between me and my poor child!" he said, as if involuntarily, while seating her on the fresh grass. He threw himself down beside her, holding her hands, and covering them with kisses.

Though Toussaint consistently plays, in public life, his part of a great statesman, actuated and governed by the principles of the gospel and by these alone, the general run of readers will probably be more delighted with the illustrious black in the bosom of his family; simply great, affectionate, thoughtful, sage, humble-the exemplar, in short, of whatever is most exalted in the Christian character. He is only surpassed by the fair girl, Euphrosyne, whose charity and faith in the coloured race is not shaken, nor her sense of justice confused, even after her grandfather had been barbarously shot dead in the carriage by her side. In these cruelties to the whites, General Moyse, the betrothed, the adored of Génifrède, the elder daughter of the chief, was deeply implicated. Moyse was arrested by orders of his uncle, who proceeded to execute justice with the stern determination of an ancient Roman-tempered, however, by the softest feelings of pity for his own despairing child. We are afraid that the perfections of Tous-gallant."

"This sod is fresh and green," said he ; "but would we were all lying under it !"

"Do you say so?" murmured Génifrède.

"God forgive me!" he replied. "But we are all wretched." "Well you

"You repent, then?" said Génifrède. may! There are no more such, now you have killed him. You should have repented sooner: it is too late now." "I do not repent, Génifrède; but I mourn, my child." "There are no more such," pursued she. "He was

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