prisoner, who spoke to him modestly of his own glory, but with indignation of the design imputed to him of having wished to deliver St. Domingo up to the English. His emaciated and feeble hands were engaged in writing a paper intended to disprove that groundless charge. The officer found Toussaint in a state of almost absolute privation. A little meal was his only food, and that he had to prepare himself in a small earthen jug. But Colomier had a heart: he pitied the destitution of a man who had had at his command the opulence of St. Domingo. His humanity made him unfit for his office, and ascertaining that the captive accounted the want of coffee among his chief privations, he ventured at his own risk to furnish a small supply. When the governor returned, he found that Toussaint 'Ouverture was still alive. In a short time he took a second journey to the same town, and for the same purpose; and as he suspected that Colomier's good nature had interfered with his duty, he said to him, on leaving, with a disquieted countenance, 'I entrust to you the guardianship of the castle; but this time I do not give you the keys of the dungeons: the prisoners have no need of anything.' "The governor returned on the fourth day. Toussaint was no more. He ascertained the fact. Yes, there he is -dead; no doubt whatever-dead and cold. He has died of inanition. And see, if you have courage to look on so horrible a sight-the rats have gnawed his feet! "The work is done the crime is perpetrated. Bona parte's will is law: his word is death. But murder is a word of evil sound. The world, with all its depravity, has a moral feeling, and that moral feeling it is impolitic to outrage. A veil must be thrown over the assassination. his "Toussaint is dead;'-'how came he by his death?' “The governor, on learning that his captive had breathed his last, carried some provisions into his dungeon. Who now can say that Toussaint had been starved to death? He died in the midst of abundance. This was the governor's own plea. But he deprived that plea of its effect by eagerness to obtrude and make the most of it; and he betrayed his guilt by his looks and manner. Yes, he was distressed at Toussaint's sudden departure-he bewailed the event. But hypocrisy ever overacts its part. Besides, the governor was not thoroughly depraved; and that which he would have men regard as the sadness of a virtuous heart in mourning, they saw to be the ragings of a conscience smitten with a sense of guilt; his cheeks put on eyes were wild. a livid paleness; his steps were hasty and uncertain; his But the keys of the dungeon were in his possession; and the words, "The prisoners want nothing,' and the food recently carried thither; these facts known to our authority, and known to Captain Colomier, and known to other inmates of the castle-declare that murder has been committed. Yes, now we see why Mars Plaisir has been sent away. And now we see why this remote, solitary, wild, and freezing prison has been chosen. And now we see why Toussaint l'Ouverture was entrapped. The series of crimes is consummated." In perusing the foregoing outline of the career of Toussaint, the reader can scarcely fail to be reminded of the remarkable parallel to it presented by the more recent history of Abd-el-Kader. The Issues of their respective imprisonments, however, we are glad to observe, afford as striking a contrast; for while the hero of Hayti was undoubtedly sacrificed to the jealousy and ambition of the unscrupulous uncle, the chivalric chief of Algeria has been suffered to depart into honourable exile by the imitative and equally determined nephew. Whatever may have been the motives leading to this change of policy, it cannot but be regarded with satisfaction by every sympathizing friend of the fallen brave. And we trust that the time will never come when a deed similar to that perpetrated upon the negro patriot shall again disgrace the civilization, the humanity, and the religion of Europe. Before taking leave of the work under notice, we feel bound to remark that Dr. Beard has sometimes, in the warmth of his indignation against slavery, suffered the spirit of the advocate to impart a depth of colouring to his narrative not compatible with the calm impartiality of the historian. In the long unsuccessful struggles of the blacks we see another illustration of the inferiority of physical to moral power, and also of the utter incompatibility of liberty with Roman catholicism, which at the period under consideration was the religion of the island of Hayti. It is only as a community is permeated with evangelical principles and bible truth that it can ever become, or continue to be, "Great, glorious, and free." THE INCOGNITO. [ALTERED FROM THE FRENCH.] PRINCE GEORGE, the heir to the crown of Moldavia, had just accomplished one of those tours of Europe by which modern heirs-presumptive complete their education. Unfortunately, in this journey from court to court, where he had in every place been received with a kind of ovation, the young prince had seen only what had been shown to him; that is to say, that which could give him pleasure, and not that from which he could derive instruction. His preceptor, Marco Aski, one of those sycophants who maintain that, in order to make a rapid progress, it is necessary to walk upon one's knees, had carefully surrounded him with whatever could flatter his pride. In vain did the prince change his abode; he seemed to carry everywhere with him an atmosphere of falsehood and flattery. Nevertheless, he had been so happily endowed by nature, that his good disposition had been able to resist the effects of this bad education. they had not been able to deprive him of the In presenting him with false impressions of life, faculty of seeing; deceived as to what was truth, he preserved the wish to know it. This blindness, however, was only ignorance; all that was required his courtiers had obscured his mind. was to remove the cataract, as it were, with which The intelligence of the death of his uncle, to whose sovereignty he succeeded, had reached him in Greece, the last station of his pilgrimage, and he hastened to return to Moldavia, by ascending the Danube. He left behind him his suite and his baggage, and was accompanied only by his preceptor, with whom he travelled incognito. They had just stopped at a little inn situated on the banks of the Pruth. Marco Aski communicated to the prince the arrangements he had made for continuing their route. The last post-chaise had left an hour before their arrival; no private boat could be hired; and unless they made up their minds to wait indefinitely for another conveyance, they had no other resource than the public passage-boat which ascended the river daily, carrying passengers from both sides of the water. Well, we will go in the passage-boat," said the prince; "I am anxious to avoid the slightest delay. Besides, this way of travelling appears to me the most convenient." 66 Your highness had perceived with your usual ability all the advantages offered by the voyage," said Marco, whose obsequious smile applauded the slightest words or motions of his pupil; "but I must also represent the inconveniences. There is only one cabin in the vessel; your highness will therefore be obliged to mix with the other travellers." "What does that signify? You always forget our incognito, Aski, and you will betray it to all the world. I cannot prevail upon you to call me George only." "Excuse me," said the preceptor; "but if I were allowed to justify myself, I should say that it is not my fault. Your highness has such an air of distinction, that no one can forget your rank. Your plain costume cannot prevent your looking like a prince. Just now I overheard the innkeeper expatiating upon the beauty of your features, and the elegance of your manners." "The innkeeper must have been aware that you were listening," said the prince gaily; “he wished to make himself agreeable; but you may depend upon it he will carry this flattery to our account in his bill." "Really, nothing escapes your highness's penetration," cried Marco with admiration. "You read the very hearts of people. Carry praises to an account! that is one of the most sparkling bonmots I ever heard; if it were known at Paris, it would be in all the journals to-morrow.” "Enough, enough, Marco; your partiality for me resembles blindness. When will the boat arrive ?" "In an hour. I forgot to mention to your highness that the innkeeper has given me some uneasiness respecting the navigation of the Pruth. It seems that, during the last year, banditti have infested the river and robbed some vessels." 66 Come, now, you are trying to frighten me, Aski." "I never attempt impossibilities; your highness's courage is too well known. I only thought I ought to tell you the truth. As to the rest, your highness knows I am ready to follow you, if it were to Siberia; you have only to say, 'Sic volo; sic jubeo.'"* "Well, you do not finish your sentence," rejoined the prince; "continue the verse, sit pro ratione voluntas.'t A poor reason, Aski, and one with which I hope I shall never content myself." Marco made a gesture of astonishment. Your highness will at least permit me to admire your recollection of your Latin." "You taught it to me, Aski, as well as everything else." "And I am proud of my work. I dare say your highness is not less superior to other men by your acquirements than your birth." Here is the boat," interrupted the prince. "Settle quickly with the innkeeper, while your old pupil waits for you on the shore." Although the habit of hearing himself praised had given the prince a favourable opinion of himself, he had sufficient good sense and sincerity to question sometimes his own merits. The praises which his old preceptor had just lavished so indiscriminately upon his beauty, his elegance, his talents, his courage, and his information, left him * So I wish; so I order. + Let my wish supply the place of a reason. somewhat in uncertainty; not that he did not wish to believe he possessed all these advantages, but he would like to have seen them established by good evidence. The voyage on the Pruth would be a favourable opportunity. Unknown to every one, he would be valued only for his own worth; he would at length know the truth respecting himself. He again commanded Aski, and this time seriously, to do nothing which could betray them, and entered the bark, which resumed its course up the river. The passengers were numerous, and appeared to belong to all classes. There were labourers, merchants, rich landholders, an old German officer, and some young girls of different ranks. Among the latter was one whose pleasing manners attracted the notice of the prince. Many of the passengers had approached her one after another, and had entered into conversation with her, and she became insensibly the queen of a little court where cheerfulness seemed to have taken up its abode. Prince George approached in his turn; but, contrary to what he had been accustomed to, no one made room for him. He attempted to speak, his neighbour interrupted him; he hazarded a witticism, no one thought himself obliged even to smile. Surprised at first, our Moldavian felt piqued at this unexpected indifference, and attempted to deliver himself of some bon-mots; but they were replied to with a dexterity so amusing and graceful, that the laugh was turned against the disconcerted jester. The prince, much surprised, was obliged to turn on his heel, and beat a retreat towards a countrywoman, who had listened at a distance to the attack and retorts, and who, like the rest, had smiled at his expense. "Sit down there, my poor innocent," said the fat woman, making room for him; "you have found them too much for you; but you must not let that worry you: wit, like velvet, is not for everybody; still we ought to know how to do ourselves justice, and not seek disputes with those who carry steel swords, while we have only a wooden one ourselves." George looked at the countrywoman with a mixture of astonishment and humour. "You do not know, perhaps, that the young man who sat at the right hand of the young girl, and at whom you laughed, was her betrothed! Ah! indeed, you did not shine just now by the side of him, my poor fellow! I am sure you are a good sort of youth, but he looks like a prince!" George rose abruptly, with the intention of rejoining Marco and the old German officer, with whom he began to converse; but he soon found he had to deal with one of those learned punctilious people, who, having a correct knowledge of differ ent things, will not pass over any inaccuracy in others. In the space of a few minutes the old officer had detected, in the conversation of the prince, three historical errors, as many mistakes in the principles of natural philosophy, and I do not know how many solecisms in language. The prince, much out of humour, put an end to the conversation; but, as he went away, he heard the German complaining to Aski of the defective education of young people. Up to this point his experience had been unfavourable. The opinions of his preceptor on his majestic appearance, his talents, his learning, and his beauty, did not appear to have made many proselytes. He found the lesson so much the harder as it was entirely unexpected, and he could not forbear feeling some degree of mortification. To descend from one's pedestal is always a difficult operation, even for the most modest; so our Moldavian sat down by the prow in no very agreeable humour. The shades of night began to descend over the river, the deserted banks of which were with difficulty distinguished. The greater number of the passengers, attracted by the freshness of the evening, had left the cabin. The boat was just entering a narrow strait between two islands, the trees on which intercepted the last gleams of light from the sky. They had reached the narrowest part of the passage, when three boats darted out of the plantation of willows which extended on each side, and rapidly approached the passage-boat. The captain, perceiving them, uttered a cry of warning- "The bandits of the river!" But before he could complete the sentence the boats had come up, and a dozen men rushed upon the deck of the passage-boat. For a moment the passengers were overcome with surprise and fear, and the pirates took advantage of this to rob the most wealthy of their clothes and jewels. They were beginning to ransack the baggage, which was collected into a heap at the entrance of the cabin, when a young man, who was standing there with his betrothed, rushed out, sabre in hand, exciting his companions to defend themselves. The prince, who was at first surprised like the others, heard his appeal, and repeated it as he threw himself upon one of the bandits. Their example was followed by the crew, then by some of the passengers; and, after a struggle of some minutes' duration, the defeated pirates precipitately returned to their boats, and fled as fast as their oars would permit. The combat, though sharp, had been too brief to occasion any loss of life, though some of the combatants had been wounded. The wound which the prince had received in his arm, without being dangerous, had caused him to lose much blood. The betrothed of the young man to whom we have referred was occupied in bandaging it with her handkerchief, when the preceptor, who had disappeared at the commencement of the fight, unrolled himself very cautiously from a piece of sail-cloth which had been used as a tent during the day, and saw her trying to stop the blood. "Is it possible?" he exclaimed, in a tone of terror. "Your highness is wounded!" "It is nothing," replied the prince, smiling. "But where did you come from, Aski?" Instead of replying, the preceptor rushed towards him, with exclamations of despair. "What! have the wretches dared to lay their hands upon your highness ?" cried he. Your highness is covered with blood! Quick, pilot! land at the first village! Get remedies, get a doctor! It is prince George, gentlemen; remember you are answerable for the life of your prince!" At this declaration, there was raised in the Tessel a general cry of surprise, which was followed by a respectful silence. All the passengers, taking off their hats, retired to a distance. Marco, Aski approached, with his hands clasped together and his eyes raised to heaven. "It is entirely the fault of your highness," cried he. "You would listen only to your courage; when all the others fled, you alone made head against the bandits; to you we owe our deliverance.' "You are mistaken, Marco," interrupted the prince with severity. "I gave way to fear at first, as well as the others." Then, taking the hand of the young man, he added: "Behold him who set us an example by his firmness; he has just proved that he is entitled to the highest praise for courage as well as for other qualities. The remembrance of this day will never be effaced from my mind; it has taught me the value of a prince deprived of his externals. A young girl has cured me of my pretensions to wit; an old officer has proved to me my ignorance; a brave stranger has surpassed me in courage; and a prudent matron has acknowledged to me that I only looked like a good sort of youth. Henceforth I shall consider myself such; I shall try to deserve this title, and shall never forget the lesson in humility which I owe to my incognito." It is not recorded what became of the sycophant Aski, to whom it is to be feared there are many counterparts in the world; but we have it on the highest authority, that "a lying tongue hateth those that are afflicted by it, and a flattering mouth worketh ruin." BRIDGING THE NILE.-The editor of the Boston Medical and Surgical Journal, now on a visit to Egypt and Nubia, gives the following account of the bridge in progress of construction across the Nile, near Cairo. A French engineer is constructing a strong, beautiful bridge across the river, where the water is both deep and swift. The arches are of large brick. Another appears to be building over the Damietta branch, as seen in the distance. Mud machines, all iron, worked by steam; pile-drivers, and machinery of all kinds suitable for carrying on a heavy business; besides immense piles of stones, brick, timber, and other materials, independently of labourers, soldiers, carts, horses, boats, and mules, give the spot, for six miles round, informed, have elapsed since the piers were commenced. an active and bustling appearance. Six years, we are This is the first bridge, it is believed, over the Nile. It was commenced by Mohammed Ali, some years since, and a fear is entertained that it will never be finished. The diving bell is an extraordinary machine, with which sixty men are at once sunk to the river bed to drive piles, lay the foundation-stones, etc. at the lowest point, is thirty feet deep, and the mud thirty more below that, down through which the foundation of the pillar is sunk, in iron boxes, till its weight lodges on the firm bottom. The whole length of piers, ready for receiving the arches, is 90 feet-30 above high water. Last season 25,000 men were employed, at present only 2,000, the Pacha having used up his funds in building and furnishing costly palaces in all directions. Every three months the governor of a district is called upon for a certain number of villagers, for this public work. The water, ous people pass in a morning between sleeping and GET UP.-That time is ill-spent which some luxuriwaking, after nature has been fully gratified, He who is awake may be doing something; he who is asleep is receiving the refreshment necessary to fit him for action; but the hours spent in dozing can hardly be called existence. Aseful Counsels. The lesson of this sad incident is easily read. It is only another instance of the ease with which carelessness can turn our blessings into curses. A mother's love and a mother's pious care are inestimable gifts of God's mercy. Indifference and impenitence can make them causes of our deeper sorrows, and so change the soft voice that sung our infancy to sleep, that it will haunt our dying pillow with accusations that we can neither gainsay nor resist.Rev. M. B. Grier. ON THE PRICE OF THINGS.-Whenever I want any-hensive glance over his life satisfies the man that he has thing I always ask the price of it, whether it be a new wasted it. His own conscience condemns him. In this coat or a shoulder of mutton, a pound of tea or a ball of he knows that he but anticipates the sentence of God, and pack-string. If it appears to be worth the money, I buy he sinks into death "a lost man." it, that is if I can afford it; but if not, I let it alone; for he is no wise man who pays for a thing more than it is worth. But not only in the comforts of food and clothing, but in all other things, I ask the same question; for there is a price fixed to a day's enjoyment as well as to an article of dress, to the pleasures of life as well as to a joint of butcher's meat. The spendthrift sets his heart on expensive baubles, but he does not ask their price: he is, therefore, obliged to give for them his houses, his lands, his friends, and his comforts; and these are fifty times more than they are worth. The drunkard is determined to have his brandy and gin, and his strong ale; and as he never makes the price an object, so he pays for them with his wealth, his character, and his peace and a sad bargain he makes of it! It is the same with others. The gamester will be rich at once, but riches may be bought too dear; for he who in getting money gets also the habit of risking it on the turn of a card, or throw of the dice, will soon bring pounds to pence. The gamester pays for his riches with his rest, his reputation, and his happiness. Do you think if the highwayman asked the price of ungodly gain, that he could ever commit robbery? No, never! but he does not ask the price, and foolishly gives for it his liberty, if not his life. Ask the price of what you would possess, and make a good bargain. A little prudence will secure you a great deal of peace. But if, after all, you will have the pleasure of sin, I pray you consider the price you must pay for it. Ι "Yes, thine may be the joys of vice, And thine without control: "I AM A LOST MAN!"-The newspapers inform us that these were the last words of Bugeaud, Marshal of France and Duke of Isly. When he uttered them he was just closing a brilliant, many would say a useful life. He had led vast armies to battle; he had governed extensive states; and he had been conspicuous in the councils of his nation. The president of France made anxious visits to his death-chamber; the stern Cavaignac wept as he looked upon the dissolving frame of his old comrade; and the Convention was profoundly affected when the news of his death was announced. With all this accumulation of honour, he was, by his own confession, "a lost man." How mournful the contrast between the glory of his life and the deep gloom of its close. From the same source we learn that Bugeaud had a pious mother. In the history of his eventful life, this seems to have been the only quarter in which a good influence was exerted upon his heart. His mother's voice alone warned him of his danger, and spoke to him of eternity; all other influences led him astray. In the camp, he heard of God only in blasphemy. In civil life, he saw nothing but a desperate struggle for earthly power. In the saloons of Paris, he heard wit mocking and philosophy denounc ing the religion of his youth. The quiet voice that had warned him and prayed with him was, alas for him! overborne and lost in the midst of these babbling voices of the world. In the hour of death, however, these voices die away and are forgotten. The acclamations of a world could not have made the failing pulse of Bugeaud beat faster. Other tones were in his ears; for the accents we will not listen to when they admonish us, we are often forced to listen to when they accuse. The dying moments are often the time of resurrection for abused privileges and neglected gifts. They stalk forth from the "burial-places of memory," to foreshadow our doom, and convince us of its undeniable justice. Thus we explain that fearful expression which fell from the dying warrior. He heeded a voice which he had long neglected and forgotten. Across the waste of years and through the storm of battle it comes, clear, distinct, upon his failing ear. It asks for the fruit of early counsel. It secks for the result of pious care and zeal. One compre ADOPTED CHILDREN.-"One instance of adoption,” says the author of 'America as I found It,' "touched me deeply on many accounts. In the graveyard of the first Presbyterian church in Elizabethtown, the monument is found which tells the dismal story of the deaths of Mr. Caldwell, once pastor of that flock, and of his wife. She was shot, with her babe in her arms, through the window of her own house, by ravening soldiers in search of plunder. He encountered a similar fate more than a year after, when exerting himself like a Christian patriot in the service of his country. Such deeds have left scars which are calcu lated to excite national spleen; and such records aid in fretting and keeping it alive. "Nine children were by these deeds left unprotected. After the funeral, the Hon. Elias Boudnot ranged the bereaved offspring around the remains of their father, and with that speaking spectacle before the eyes of a crowd of mourners, asked which of them was going to fulfil the Divine promise, that the seed of the righteous shall not be forsaken? which would embrace the opportunity of proving that they valued their patriotic friend and faithful pastor? which would, from these forsaken ones, rear citizens worthy of their parents? For my share,' said the noble man, 'I select this boy for mine, and engage before you, my fellow-citizens, and under the eye of heaven, to rear and train him as my own son, and may our God give his blessing.' There was a solemn pause. Many an eye, brimfull, was turned from the dead father to the fatherless little flock. One and another stepped forward and led forth an orphan, till all the nine found parents; and, with the exception of one unsettled character, whose act was that of fleeting emotion and not of Christian resolution, and who in a short time returned the chosen child to its friends, no one failed of their engagements. Nor did the Father of mercies fail of his; they turned out excellent citizens, who served their country, or who became the mothers of those who serve it now; and nearly-may I not say all-came forth in life as real Christians, the petitions which their parents left behind being answered when they had passed by their stormy deaths to the world of eternal peace. And that rejected and returned one was, if I remember right, the very one afterwards chosen by General Lafayette, carried to France, and furnished with the most complete and accomplished education which Parisian skill could offer to sound ability. He returned to do his country signal services in the walks of literature, piety, and philanthropy." PREPARATION FOR DEATH.-When you lie down at night, compose your spirits as if you were not to awake till the heavens be no more. And when you awake in the morning, consider that new day as your last, and live accordingly. Surely that night cometh of which you will never see the morning, or that morning of which you will never see the night, but which of your mornings or nights will be such you know not. Let the mantle of worldly enjoyment hang loose about you, that it may be easily dropped when death comes to carry you into another world. When the corn is forsaking the ground, it is ready for the sickle: when the fruit is ripe, it falls off the tree easily. So when a Christian's heart is truly weaned from the world, he is prepared for death, and it will be the more easy for him. A heart disengaged from the world is a heavenly one, and then we are ready for heaven when our heart is there before us.-Burton. |