preclude their administering the customary remedies. A dead pause succeeded this fatal declaration. Suddenly, a surgeon named Guyon, in the prime of life, and of great celebrity in his profession, rose and said firmly, "Be it so: I devote myself for the safety of my country. Before this numerous assembly I swear, in the name of humanity and religion, that to-morrow, at the break of day, I will dissect a corpse, and write down as I proceed, what I observe." He left the assembly instantly. They admired him, lamented his fate, and doubted whether he would persist in nis design. The intrepid Guyon, animated by all the sublime energy which patriotism can inspire, acted up to his word. He had never married, he was rich, and he immediately made a will; he confessed, and in the middle of the night received the sacraments. A man had died of the plague in his house within four and twenty hours. Guyon, at day-break, shut himself up in the same room; he took with him an inkstand, paper, and a little crucifix. Full of enthusiasm, and kneeling before the corpse, he wrote, Mouldering remains of an immortal soul, not only can I gaze on thee without horror, but even with joy and gratitude. Thou wilt open to me the gates of a glorious eternity. In discovering to me the secret cause of the terrible disease which destroys my native city, thou wilt enable me to point out some salutary remedy-thou wilt render my sacrifice useful. Oh God! thou wilt bless the action thou hast thyself inspired." He began-he finished the dreadful operation, and recorded in detail his surgical observations. He left the room, threw the papers into a vase of vinegar, and afterwards sought the lazaretto, where he died in twelve hours-a death ten thousand times more glorious than the warrior's who to save his country, rushes on the enemy's ranks, since he advances with hope, at least, sustained, admired, and seconded by a whole army. La Peste de Marseilles by Madame de Genlis.

66

INGRATITUDE TOWARDS A NEGRO SLAVE.

MONSIEUR LAZARE, a native of Provence, and trader of Martinico, in the beginning of the French revolution, but since residing at Port Spain, embarked on board a Spanish launch of the Oronico, which was to take him to St. Thomas de Angostura. He carried a very considerable venture with him, and had a young negro of fourteen years old as his servant.

When the boat arrived at the islets of the Oronico, a Spanish sailor proposed to his comrades to murder Lazare and his negro, and seize on the cargo. As all the rest were not so ferocious as the author of the proposal, it was decided, that Lazare should be left on one of those desert isles and fearing that he might escape by swimming to some adjacent one inhabited by the Gouaraouns, they bound him to a cocoa tree, thus condemning him to die of hunger. When those monsters returned on board the boat, they deliberated on what they could do with the young negro, and it was decided that he should be drowned. He was therefore thrown into the river; they also gave him some blows on the head with an oar, but these did not prevent him from diving and swimming to the islet on which his master had been left; fortunately the darkness of the night hindered them from seeing him when he reached the shore. At day-break the little negro roved about the island, and at length discovered his master, whom he supposed to be dead, fastened to the tree. Lazare's joy and surprise on this unexpected sight of his servant may be readily imagined; the cord which bound him having been untied, his first expression of gratitude was a positive promise of liberty to his slave. They next went in search of food to satisfy their hunger; but perceiving traces of human footsteps, Lazare, shivering with fear, spoke to his negro of people who roast and eat men.

After mature deliberation, they determined, that from the certainty in which they were of starving, or of not being able to escape, they might just as well go and meet the men eaters. Following the track they soon heard human voices; and a little after saw men perched on the trees, in

"Come,

a species of nest proportioned to their sizes. come," said a Gouaraoun to Lazare, looking at him from his roost. "Heavens," cried the Frenchman, who understood Spanish, "they want to eat us." "No Massa," replied the little negro, who had some knowledge of the English languish; "they are only calling us to them." The Gouaraoun soon put an end to their anxiety, by showing them two large pieces of fish, and inviting them, by signs, to climb up the tree, and partake of his meal. The little negro soon reached his host, but the lubberly Lazare not being able to climb, they threw down several pieces of fish, some raw and others dressed, which he devoured most voraciously. At length the Gouaraouns descended from the trees to talk with him. He that had cried, “Come, come," spoke a little Spanish, and supposed Lazare to be a man, who, disgusted with the slavery of social life, had come peaceably to enjoy the advantages of liberty among them. This Gouaraoun, who was a man of importance among his tribe, extolled the project highly, told Lazare he would give him a wife, dog, and canoe, and that he would also teach him to shoot with a bow. But when the trader related his disastrous adventure, they testified a considerable degree of contempt for him. Having next requested them to convey him to Trinidad, and made the most magnificent promises, the Gouaraoun told him in bad Spanish, that he could not conceive why he did not prefer living with them. happy, tranquil, and without masters, rather than return to those villanous white people!

When they saw that he was determined to return to Trinidad, they equipped a pirogue to carry him there, without its ever occurring to them to stipulate for the price of his passage. At length, Lazare having arrived at Port Spain, gave the Gouarouns some knives, hatchets, and a small cask of rum, and they departed satisfied. The reader will be impatient to know how he recompensed the slave who saved his life he will naturally follow him in his mind's eye, conducting the faithful negro before a magistrate to establish his freedom. Vain illusion! The infamous Lazare, being in want of money a short time afterwards-sold this very negro.

ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE FROM THE PRISON AT LYONS.

DURING the reign of terror in the early part of the French Revolution, the prisons of Lyons were filled with thousands of unhappy victims. Among these was a person named Delandine, who had been marked out as an object of political vengeance, but who afterwards had the good fortune to be set at liberty, when he gave to the world a narrative of his own sufferings, into which he introduced a variety of curious facts respecting his fellow prisoners:

"Our chamber," says he, "was long and gloomy; fifty new comers were lodged near the entrance, and thirty old inhabitants occupied the upper end. A large blue cloak, which was hung against the wall upon two nails, covered a great part of that end. Behind this cloak, and concealed from observation by it, Charbonnieres had for some time been busily employed in scraping out the cement which held the stones of the wall together, and loosening the stones; working chiefly while most of his fellow-prisoners were taking the air or sleeping. Three only of his comrades were associated in the plot : one carried away in his pockets the mortar as it was scraped out, which he contrived to throw away as he walked about the court. The other two were always singing, or rather bawling, or else quarreling and disputing, to engage the attention of those who remained in the room, and prevent their hearing any noise. One day a violent dispute arose, when, from words they came to blows, throwing their arms and legs about to the great annoyance of their comrades, who fled to avoid receiving kicks and cuffs not intended for them. In this interval of uproar, a large stone which had been detached, was by a violent effort from Charbonnieres, pushed through, and rolled down on the other side. This was all he wanted; he came from behind his place of concealment, and laid himself down quietly on his straw, flattering himself, that under the favor of the shades of night, he should now be able to bid adieu to his prison.

But what was his disappointment and that of his associates, when night came, and they went to explore the opening made, to find that it only led into a neighboring

:

church, now used as a military magazine, and shut up with locks and padlocks, which it was impossible to force without instruments, more than those they possessed! True courage, however, far from being damped, is only stimulated by obstacles; and our adventurers were not disheartened, but resolved to break through the wall of the church, and every other they might meet with. With the same weapons which had hitherto served them, that is, the tongues of their buckles, and the blade of an old knife, did they begin their operations in a corner of the church opposite to the wall of the prison. Unfortunately, the person who had the charge of the magazine, lodged directly behind this spot. The deadened noise which he at first heard, becoming every night more distinct, and seemingly to approach nearer and nearer, he began to suspect what was really the case, when some fragments of stone and mortar falling into his chamber, confirmed his suspicion. It was midnight he arose hastily, and gave information of what he had witnessed to the turnkey then in waiting. The latter accompanied him to his chamber, listened, examined, and was convinced that all was not right. He hastened back to the prison, and calling a guard about him, the doors of the chamber were violently thrown open, and a search commenced with drawn bayonets. The soldiers raged, menaced, swore, and the turnkey swore and menaced more than any of them. The prisoners awoke terrified, conceiving that the massacre, with the idea of which their imaginations had been so long filled, was now about to be realized, and they prepared themselves to die. Charbonnieres and his associates, who had returned upon the first alarm, were lying peaceably upon their straw, pretending to be fast asleep. The walls were examined, the cloak was taken down; when, to the utter astonishment of the rest of the prisoners, a large breach was discovered, made as if by enchantment, and without any one of them having entertained the least idea of what was going forward.

In vain did we assert our innocence; the turnkey could not believe it possible that such a work could be carried on without our participation, and he ordered irons to be brought, and swore that we should be all removed to solitary dungeons. The irons were produced, and four were