In later years, however, Abbe Gregoire's _De la Litterature des Negres_ fell into the hands of a more sympathetic man. This was D. B. Walden of Brooklyn, New York, then secretary to the legation at Paris. Interested in the abolition of the slave trade and the welfare of the blacks, Walden translated Gregoire's _De la Litterature des Negres_, that friends of the race unacquainted with the French language might have additional information as to what the Negro had done to demonstrate that the race is not intellectually inferior to others. This translation, however, is unfortunate because of the numerous faults throughout the work and largely on account of its omissions. Exactly why the translator did not desire to bring before the American public all of the facts set forth in this book has never been exactly cleared up. It has been said, however, that the facts omitted were too favorable to the Negro race to be received by the American public at that time. The whole work should be translated as soon as some scholar can direct his attention to it, but, in the absence of such an effort, I am submitting herewith a translation of the most striking omission, chapter five, which gives an interesting sketch of the career of Angelo Solimann. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF THE NEGRO ANGELO SOLIMANN Although Angelo Solimann has published nothing[1] he deserves, because of his extensive learning and still more by the morality and excellence of his character, one of the first places among the Negroes who have distinguished themselves by a high degree of culture. He was the son of an African prince. The country subject to the latter's domination was called Gangusilang; the family, Magni-Famori. Besides the little Mmadi-Make (this was Angelo's name in his native country) his parents had another younger child, a daughter. He remembered with what respect his father, surrounded by a large number of servants, was treated; he had, like every prince's child of that country, certain marks imprinted on his two legs, and for a long time he hoped that he would be sought for, and recognized by these marks. Even in his old age, the memories of his childhood, of his first practice in shooting arrows, in which he surpassed his comrades, the memory of the simple customs and the beautiful blue sky of his native country, often recurred to his mind with a pleasure not unmixed with sorrow. He could not sing, without being profoundly affected, those songs of his native land which his good memory had very well conserved.