Seeing him suddenly fall, some attendants in waiting rushed to his assistance, but in vain: the blow had been fatal, he had fallen to rise no more on earth! Happy was it for Samboe that there were witnesses, white witnesses of the scene, who could exonerate him from all intentional connexion with, or wilful provocation to the catastrophe. The alarm, however, of the unoffending child was distressing: the countenance of the planter at all times bore evidence of his ill-regulated mind and indurated heart, and the awful hand of death fixed them in an expression the most horrid. With little idea of such sudden death, the poor child thought he was but in a violent passion, and, in the most piteous accents, clasping his hands together, besought "massa to forgive poor Samboe, who would not break cup any more, would not spoil dress any more." But his supplication was alike unheeded by master and attendants, except by one, who kicking him as he passed, said: "Get out of the way, ye little whining dog, or I'll make ye." Samboe crept from the apartment, and crouching under some furniture, felt all the bitterness of a life of slavery, of which nature, in its first fresh feelings, can be capable. Happily again for the infant captive, the wife of the planter could not bear to retain in her service the innocent cause of her husband's death; at least, secretly rejoicing at her own emancipation from his arbitrary disposition, she affected so to say: consequently, she expressed her wish of selling him to the manager of a neighbouring plantation, but as her recent loss rendered it impossible for her to have a personal interview, she thus communicated her wish by note to this person: "Unable to bear the sight of the young author of the death of the best and tenderest of husbands, Mrs. Williamson requests the favour of Mr. Martin to take charge of, and dispose of him, in any way he may judge most conducive to her interest, and to employ the proceeds in the purchase of a more effective, that is, laborious slave. Mrs. W. relies on the known kindness of Mr. M. to render this service to the disconsolate widow of his late friend." My young readers will doubtless be shocked, that Mrs. Williamson should thus profess grief for the loss of a man she married for his wealth, without either esteeming or loving him; but it is no fancied picture, and is presented to show, that, unless the heart is continually watched, and the mind sedulously cultivated, in situations favourable to indolence and self-indulgence, the moral feelings quickly become blunted, and the individual can easily, and without any self-reproach, assume any sentiments and any line of conduct which best suits the whim or caprice of the moment; and she hated the little Samboe, because she once overheard him, in a moment of unusual gaiety, telling a circle of slaves what merry dances they had at Delaney, when dear Missy Delaney danced with poor Samboe. Upon such trifles will envy condescend to feed its