he was directed, by the government of our country, to compel the Barbary States to give up their piracies, and to set free the slaves whom they had captured. Amicable negociations were tried first, and these succeeded with some of the States; for Tunis and Tripoli yielded to the demand made by the British government. But Algiers refused; and so Lord Exmouth attacked the city; and after a great battle, destroyed the batteries and fortifications, and obliged the Dey, or chief governor, to consent to the terms proposed by the English. This expedition had the happy effect of delivering from bondage a large number of Christian slaves; -about three thousand were set at liberty. It would be well if all battles, and all war-like expeditions, terminated in such good results. This was an event which our country would hear of with pleasure; but a few months after, another occurred, in the changeful course of history, which afflicted the whole nation, and made every heart in England sad. This was the death of the Princess Charlotte, the daughter of the Prince of Wales. The people of Britain had fondly looked upon her as likely one day to be their Queen, and such a queen as they would have loved and honoured; but it pleased God to disappoint these hopes, and the amiable and excellent Princess was early and unexpectedly called away to another and a better world. Only a short time before, she had been married to Leopold, Prince of Saxe Coburg, (now King of the Belgians,) and there seemed every prospect before her of life and happiness, so true is it that "in the midst of life we are in death!" Leaves have their time to fall. And flowers to wither at the north-wind's breath, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death. A few short years after, the nation was called to mourn the loss of the beloved sovereign George III. Very different indeed were the circumstances of his death from those of the death of the young and blooming Princess. Aged and infirm, deprived of sight, and still suffering from that mental malady which had so long distressed him,-in his case death was expected, but his loss was not on that account the less lamented by his loyal and affectionate people. For nearly sixty years had he worn the British crown,-a long reign indeed,--but now that reign was ended, and that crown was laid aside by him for ever. But while mourning the death of George III, we may rejoice to think of him as having passed from a corruptible to an incorruptible crown, and from a temporal to an eternal inheritance ;-to a brighter and a happier world, where no pain of body or mind, no sorrow, no change, can ever have place. And now, before we say any thing respecting the reign of the son and successor of George III, I will ask you to read once more the lines at the head of the chapter-"The Negro's Complaint; "—and then I will ask you to do something more,-to transport yourselves in thought to the far distant coast of Western Africa, and to fancy yourselves standing there, by the sea-side, some seventy or eighty years ago. A vessel stands by that shore. It is waiting to receive its cargo, and then to bear it away, across the Atlantic Ocean, to the islands of the West Indies. Perhaps you may wish to know what that cargo is, and to see it stowed in the vessel. Look then, and listen. Soon you hear sounds which surprise and almost frighten you. There are harsh voices, and threatening words, and cries of distress; and as the sounds come nearer, you can distinctly hear the lashing of whips, and shrieks of pain which make you shudder; and you wonder more and more what all this can mean. Look again; you will soon know what it is. See that long file of human beings moving on towards the shore. They are not like ourselves, for their skin is black, and their countenances are half wild, and half barbarous; and their walk and their manner seem to tell us that they are of an inferior-a degraded race. But they are human beings still;-yes, fellow-men, made by the same God, children of the same Father, however different in appearance from ourselves. And yet there they are, chained together, driven along like cattle, by fierce men, armed with those terrible whips; and these men, (and this is the strangest thing of all) these men who are thus driving on the poor captured negroes, are white men,-Britons, natives of our own country,-sons of free and happy England! Oh, how, how can this be? But look again; that company has reached the ship. You will see now what the cargo of the vessel is to be. It is a human cargo ;— a cargo of slaves; poor black men, women, and children who have been cruelly torn from their native homes; and now they are forced into that vessel, packed in it like bales of merchandize, without room to stand, or even to sit upright, and with scarcely any air, or food, or water. Their tears and entreaties are of no avail; they cannot move those cruel men to pity. Complaints only add to their sufferings, for they make the hard-hearted oppressors more savage still; and so the poor slaves are compelled to submit sadly and silently to their lot; and the cargo is completed, and the vessel leaves the shore, and the voyage of the Middle Passage, as it is called, begins. Ah, you may suppose what the agonies of the poor blacks will be during that dreadful voyage! The heat, and the want of air, and of food, and of water, the cruelties inflicted on them whenever they dare to cry or to murmur,—you can imagine better than I can describe. Many sink and die under the sufferings of the Middle Passage; and, ere the vessel can reach the spot to which it is bound, a large portion of the cargo will have perished! And now let us suppose the ship to have arrived at the shore of some West Indian island, far distant from the coast of Africa. The poor slaves,-those of them that have survived the passage,—are taken out of their miserable prison, but only to go through new sufferings. Worn and ill as they are, they are dragged forth, and driven along like beasts, to be exposed for sale in the public market! And now other white men flock around them, to see, and to examine, and perhaps to purchase them. These are the rich planters, who have come there to buy slaves to work on their estates; and they select the best,-the strongest, and the healthiest, and the most active, and then these poor creatures are torn again from their companions and friends, and sent by their new masters to different |