"This scene has haunted my imagination; the memory of it has sometimes seemed to me like a voice from Heaven; for a long while it kept alive a dying spark of faith. I cherished it as a testimony, that God had not left the creatures he had formed to wander without him in the world: I fancied there was a supernatural ministry to the spirit of this much-injured man, that had converted his just and unrelenting hatred to forgiveness--his pride to submissiveness--and there seemed a witness to the mercy of Heaven in the gentle and tender countenance of my friend.

"Yes, Alsop, I confess it--the memory of this scene has sometimes been an impassable barrier to your infidel and most ingenious arguments.

"You know one of the boldest, as well as most charming of female skeptics, said, in the silence of the closet, or the dryness of discussion, I can agree with the atheist or the materialist, as to the insolubility of certain questions; but when in the country, or contemplating nature, my soul, full of emotion, soars aloft to the vivifying principle that animates, them to the almighty intellect that pervades them, and to the goodness that makes the scene so delightful to my senses !'

"Thus it is with me: nature, and the beautiful traits of nature we sometimes see in man, appeal irresistibly to my feelings, and force their way to my convictions.

"My purpose was, frankly to tell you my present embarrassments; but I have been led into too serious a train of feeling to proceed any farther, and

certainly to let you into the arcana of my present perplexities.

"I explained to Edmund my intentions in regard to Africk. We found that we had participated in a strong feeling of compassion towards him, and this sympathy at once created a bond of union between us. This hiding-place had been contrived by Westall's people for a refuge for the runaways from the neighbouring plantations; not at all for their own benefit, for the conduct of the Westalls to their slaves was noted for its benevolent and paternal character. The retreat was kept secret from Mr. Westall, (the father;) for the negroes rightly concluded that he would have been compelled in honour to surrender, as the property of his neighbours, the refugees who took shelter there. The son had been conducted to the place by the old woman, who was his nurse, who knew she might safely confide the secret to his custody, and who could not believe that any case was so desperate that he could not bring some alleviation to it. We agreed that Africk's body should be conveyed during the night to the cabin of one of the negroes, and should in the morning be restored to my father.

"Before we parted from the remains of the released slave, we examined the saphie, which to his last breath, he had so pertinaciously grasped. You must know these saphies, are boxes made of horn, shell, or some other durable material; they contain some charm, usually a sentence from the Koran, which serves as an amulet to keep off evil

spirits. Africk had changed the object of his superstition, and the infidel charm had been expelled to give place to the following sentence, written at his request by Westall: 'Forgive me my trespasses, even as I forgive those who trespass against me.'

"At Edmund's instigation, I made this the occasion of benefit to the other negroes. I applied to my father in their behalf, and found my way to his understanding by the sure and well-trodden path of selfishness. I convinced him that Buckley's cruelty had shortened Africk's life, and that the tyrant's harsh treatment of the slaves prevented half the profit that might otherwise be derived from their labour. My father, exasperated by his recent loss, readily yielded to my arguments. Buckley was dismissed, and an efficient and tolerably humane overseer employed in his place. I possessed then, Alsop, some enthusiasm in the cause of benevolence, and could have envied, and possibly might have emulated the fame of a Howard. But notwithstanding this strange confession, you need not now despair of your disciple and friend. H. REDWOOD."

This epistle very naturally excited some alarm in Alsop for the security of his dominion over the mind of his young disciple. He wrote to him repeatedly, and received but few, and those brief replies, till about the expiration of a year, when an answer to an earnest solicitation to Redwood to

accompany him to Europe, whither he was going in a public service, and to his setting forth in the most tempting manner, the advantages that he offered, he received the following letter:

"DEAR ALSOP,

"I am grateful for your interest, and convinced by your arguments that I ought no longer to dose away my brief existence in this retirement. I have obtained my father's consent to the arrangement you propose; and what is still more indispensable, an ample supply in consideration of a promise I have given to him, that I will solicit the hand of my cousin immediately after my return.

"Alsop, I find it necessary to recollect all the arguments in favour of virtue and vice being only conventional terms, artificial contrivances for man's convenience; for conscience, conscience, that blushing shame-faced spirit that mutinies in a man's bosom,' tells me that if it is not so, I am the veriest wretch alive. I am married to a young creature without fortune, without connexions; innocent, and beautiful, and religious; an odd union, is it not? I have not intimated my free opinions to her, for why should I disturb her superstition? It is quite becoming to a woman, harmonizes well with the weakness of her sex, and is perhaps necessary to it. No one but the priest (and he is trust-worthy) knows our secret. My pride, my ambition, rebel against the humble condition of life to which this rash indulgence of boyish passion VOL. I.

6

my

condemns me. If father knew it, he would spurn me; for my marriage disappoints his favourite project, and my poor girl would provoke his most inveterate prejudices; and my mother, my timid mother, would never forgive me for presuming to offend my father: there is no tolerable alternative; the fact must be concealed for the present. Who knows but one of the tides, which, 'taken at the flood lead on to fortune,' may await me? any thing is better than to lose this bright opportunity of pleasure and advantage. Poor Westall is dead, and died with unbroken confidence in my virtue. Is goodness always thus credulous? He has committed his only son, a boy of four years, to my guardianship. I will not betray his trust, so help me God.

"Yours, &c. H. R."

Redwood had determined to keep his intended departure a secret, to save himself from the remonstrances and entreaties which he naturally expected from his abused wife. He had no intention permanently to desert her: she was residing in the family of a Mr. Emlyn, as teacher to his children, and might remain there for one, or even two years if necessary; and in the meantime, an unforeseen accession of fortune, political advancement, or any of the thousand chances that happen to fortune's favourites, might relieve her husband from his present embarrassments, and enable him to invest her with her rights without too great a personal