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Hbenia, 
 
 OR 
 
 A TRAGICAL POE.M, 
 
 ON THE 
 
 OPPRESSION OF THE HUMAN SPECIES ; 
 
 AND 
 
 INFRINGEMENT 
 
 ON THE 
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 IN FIVE BOOKS. 
 With Notes Explanatory and Miscellaneous^ 
 
 WRITTEN IN IMITATION OF HOMER'S ILIAD, 
 —A NEW EDITION— 
 
 To which is added the Constitution of the State 
 of Pennsylvania* 
 
 BY THOMAS BRANAGAN. 
 
 Author of Preliminary Essays, Serious Remonstrance, Peniten- 
 tial Tyrant, &c. &c. 
 
 * Proud Nimrod first the bloody chase began, 
 A mighty hunter and his prey was man." >, POPE* 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 PRINTED, and sold by J. CLINE, No. 135, Soytfi Eleventh 
 Street 1819, 
 
DESCRIPTION 
 THE FRONTISPIECE.^ 
 
 3T is intcndted as a contrast between practical slavery and pro 
 fessional liberty, and suggests to the citizens of the American 
 States the following important distich: 
 
 f< Sons of Columbia, hear this truth in timet 
 He c mho alio^s oppression shares the crime." 
 
 The temple of Liberty, with the motto of the Commonwealth 
 of Pennsylvania, which would as well become her sister states, 
 is displayed .* the Goddess, in a melancholy attitude, is seated 
 under the Pillar of our Independence, bearing in her hand the 
 Sword of Justice surmounted by the Cap of Liberty, while one 
 foot rests on the Cornu copiae, and the Ensign of America ap- 
 pear at her sicle. She is looking majestically sad on the African 
 Slaves landed on the shores of America, who are brought into 
 view, in order to demonstrate the hypocrisy and villainy of 
 •professing to be votaries of liberty, while, at the same time, we 
 encourage* or countenance, the most ignoble slavery. 
 
 
ADVERTISEMENT, 
 
 THE dignity and importance of the subse- 
 quent Poem, as it respects its design and not 
 its composition, encourage the author to of- 
 fer this edition to the patronage of the citi- 
 zens of America; being convinced that they 
 will not be deficient in their characteristic gene, 
 rosity, when the circumstances which gave rise to 
 the publication are impartially considered. 
 
 The cause of freedom is their own cause, 
 and must attract the notice of every republican, 
 ; and every votary of religion and humanity* 
 The autljor anticipates particular satisfaction 
 in the opportunity this edition affords him of 
 acknowledging with the most grateful sensations, 
 the generous patronage o.jordtd hi' antecedent 
 publications — — a patronage which far exceeded 
 his most sanguine expectations, and which can 
 only be equalled by the unfeigned thankfulness 
 and sentiments of respect, with which he sub- 
 res himself the public 7 s most obliged servant. 
 

 PREFACE. 
 
 
 OF all the diversified publications which 
 may be productive of public utility, there is 
 none more deserving of general attention 
 than the subject of our choice. The primary 
 cause of the annihilation of modern as well 
 as ancient republics, was the lassitude of their 
 citizens, in not guarding with indefatigable 
 assiduity, the Palladium of their social and 
 religious rights, and investigating the basis of 
 their political and unalienable privileges. The 
 freedom and happiness of Adam's family, are 
 objects which equally merit the consideration 
 of the savage and the sage, the peasant and 
 the philosopher, the historian and the divine. 
 On a subject of such importance, many au- 
 thors, both in the old and new world, have 
 written; several of whose performances are 
 justly eulogized as works of sterling merit — 
 But I must say few have had the opportunity* 
 
PREFACE. $ 
 
 of gaining the practical information on this 
 subject, which providence has put in my pow- 
 er ; and none can be under more cogent ob- 
 ligations to expose the barbarities of my ac- 
 complices in tyranny, than I undoubtedly am. 
 It will appear evident to every discerning 
 mind, that I am perfectly correct when I af" 
 firm, that this subject is imperiously momen- 
 tous to the people of America, and is essen- 
 tially connected with their interest and their 
 honour. Liberty, disrobed and in tears, has 
 been chas'd round the globe, has been banished 
 from every government in the world, but the 
 federal government of the United States. — 
 Hither has she fled for refuge, here she hopes 
 to find a permanent assylum ; here she looks 
 to be defended from the incursions of ty- 
 ranny. 
 
 What must forcibly interest the reader, is, 
 
 the melancholy consideration that the follow- 
 
 ing poem is drawn from real life; it is, alas ! 
 
 far from being the phantom of a novelist or 
 
 A 2 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 romancer. The principal scenes depicted are 
 transacted every year. The catastrophes re- 
 sulting from the Inhuman commerce of the 
 human species, are in reality far more tragical* 
 Many of the events recorded I have been 
 scrupulous in particularizing, and no matter 
 is admitted in the notes, but what is of un- 
 disputed authenticity. In rendering an ac- 
 count of those famous, or rather infamous 
 tyrants, who have so long signalized them- 
 selves by their unparalleled brutality, I have, 
 in conjunction with my own personal know- 
 ledge, availed myself of the most unexception- 
 able documents which my obscure situation 
 and local circumstances would allow me to 
 procure. Perspecuity instead of elegance, 
 utility instead of method, the development 
 of truth instead of the flowers of rhetoric, 
 have been my primary objects in the prosecu. 
 tion of the work. 
 
 In the present performance, in common 
 with many others, literary inaccuracies and de- 
 
PREFACE. 7 
 
 viations from the rules of composition, will no 
 doubt be recognised ; but the reader must 
 remember that in the execution of the work, 
 I have laboured under many formidable dis- 
 advantages, and interruptions, resultingfrom 
 domestic avocations, &o that part of the 
 poem was written some years pas*, when 1 
 had little expectation of submitting it to the 
 inspection of the public ; and in transcribing 
 it for publication, I found it utterly impracti- 
 cable to arrange it systematically ; and that 
 I could not without the basest ingratitude pro- 
 crastinate the work, especially as its objects 
 were, the vindication of injured innocence, 
 not reputation ; the good, and not the praise 
 of man- For the plaudits of the great I will 
 not sue, their censures I do not fear. With- 
 out spending one thought on those futile con- 
 siderations, I will advocate the rights of man, 
 being well convinced that when I drop the 
 curtain of mortality I will be perfectly insen- 
 sible both to the one and to the other. These 
 -considerations, with others that might be ad* 
 
8 PREFACE. 
 
 duced, will no doubt apologize for obvious 
 imperfections in my arrangements ; and let 
 it be remembered, that many sanguine ani- 
 madversions, and literal repetitions in this 
 work are the spontaneous effusiotis of a grate- 
 ful heart, dictated by the unutterable thankful- 
 ness I feel to that wise beneficent Being, who 
 — great in goodness and good in greatness, 
 wrought that conviction in my mind, which 
 enabled me to relinquish the wages of unright- 
 eousness, and to prefer virtue clothed in rags, 
 to vice arrayed in gold, and who now 
 strengthens and stimulates me for to forego 
 my native diffidence and pride, and regard- 
 less of the despot's frown, and the critic's 
 sneer, to exhibit to popular execration, the 
 legal barbarity of the trails and tyrants of 
 mankind. 
 
 Whatever reception this^frork may mee t 
 with, the Omniscient is my "witness that my 
 motives are disinterested and pure, and that 
 I h^ve used my very best endeavours to ac- 
 
PREFACE* 9 
 
 commodate it to the various tastes of the dif- 
 ferent classes of readers. They whom an 
 enlightened taste and liberal education have 
 made proficients in literature, will be tho- 
 roughly sensible how very difficult it must be 
 to accomplish such an object ; and they will 
 no doubt, not only be the first to discern, 
 but the most ready to pardon those errors, 
 into which so hazardous an attempt may per- 
 haps have betrayed me. They will nurture, 
 rather than nip, the smallest bud of genius, 
 <o its full blossom, and will finally with the 
 soft and gentle hand of candour, draw a veil 
 over literary errors, and permit the merits of 
 the cause and the purity of my motives to 
 plead my excuse. 
 
 A 
 1 
 
 B 
 
ADDRESS 
 
 To the Public. 
 
 THE present edition of Avenia, has 
 been corrected and revised by a respectable 
 physician of Philadelphia, of course it will 
 be more acceptable to the benevolent, and 
 to the intelligent reader, than those hith- 
 erto published. No doubt in future years, 
 when the villany concomitant with the slave 
 trade, is properly ascertained and detested by 
 mankind, the present poem will be more ge- 
 nerally admired and circulated thank has yet 
 been. The ingenious and judicious critic per- 
 haps will recognise errors in composition, 
 even in the present revised edition ; but when 
 he remembers for a moment the circumstan- 
 ces of the poem, the discouragements and 
 impediments the author laboured' under 
 in the prosecution of the work, as well a* 
 
ADDRESS. 11 
 
 .us obvious philanthropy, surely he must be 
 void of a particle of candour, tenderness, or 
 even humanity, if he will not draw the man- 
 tle of love over such inaccuracies. What ren- 
 ders it doubly his duty thus to act, is the 
 humble acknowledgments of the author in 
 two of his subsequent publications, rejative to 
 Avenia, and which I beg leave to subjoin to 
 the present address. The first is taken from 
 the second edition of the Penitential Tyrant, 
 P a g e 47 > and reads thus : " As a final an- 
 swer to the animadversions of critics, who 
 may be inclined to censure me for taking Ho- 
 mer for my model and pattern as a poet, I 
 will here transcribe a paragraph applicable to 
 this point. 
 
 "It is certain there is not near that num- 
 ber of images and descriptions in any epic poet 
 as in Homer," says Pope in his preface to 
 the translation of Homer's Iliad, page 6 — 9, 
 " though all have assisted themselves with a 
 great quantity out of his works: and it is evi- 
 dent of Virgil especially, that he has scarce 
 
12 ADDRESS. 
 
 any comparisons which are not drawn from 
 his master. They have followed him in every 
 episode and part of his story* If he has giv- 
 en a*regular catalogue of an army, they all 
 draw up their forces in the same order. If 
 he has funeral games for Patroclus, Virgil 
 has the same for Anchises; and Statins (ra- 
 therthan omit them) destroys the unity of 
 his action for those of Archimorus. If Ulys- 
 ses visits the shades, the /Eneas of Virgil, 
 and Scipio of Silius, are sent after him. If 
 he be detained by the allurements of Calypso, 
 so is iEneas by Dido, and Rinaldo by Ar- 
 mida. If Achilles be sent from the army on 
 the score of a quarrel through half the poem, 
 Rinaldo must absent himself just as long onr 
 the like account. If he gives his hero a suit 
 of celestial armour, Virgil, and Tasso make 
 the same present to theirs. Virgil has not 
 only observed this close imitation of Ho- 
 mer, but where he had not led the way, sup- 
 plied the want from other Greek authors* 
 Thus the story of Sinon. and the tafcir 
 
ADDRESS. to 
 
 Troy, were copied (says Macrobius) almost 
 word for word from Pisander, as the loves 
 of Dido and -flEneas are taken from those of 
 Medea and Jason, with several others in the 
 same manner/' 
 
 " If, therefore, the greatest and most cele- 
 brated authors have been allowed with im- 
 punity to copy the writers who preceded them., 
 surely the same privilege may be allowed to 
 the least, and most obscure. Yet I must say, 
 the plan and arrangement of the subsequent 
 poem are perfectly original. It is a well 
 known fact, however unwilling pedantic wri- 
 ters may be to own it, that all authors, with- 
 out exception, are dependent upon their pre- 
 decessors for information. — Some can trans- 
 pose more perfectly — can imitate more acute- 
 ly than others, but all are nevertheless de- 
 pendent. Indeed a man of a remarkably re. 
 tentive memory, may write the sentiments of 
 authors he has read without any references, 
 which the critic may recognise, although the 
 writer may be ignorant of such sentiments 
 being another's, in short, it is titterly inn 
 
M ADDRESS. 
 
 possible for any author, painter, muisician, 
 er mechanic, to become a proficient in his 
 particular art without imitation. 
 
 «* If the most censorious critic would candid, 
 ly consider the motives by which I am actuat- 
 ed in taking up my pen to vindicate the cause 
 of suffering humanity, would he but for one 
 moment reflect on the cogent obligations I lie 
 under so do to, these considerations would no 
 doubt be able to shield me from the shafts of 
 criticism. However, if good men approve 
 of my philanthropic endeavours for the wel* 
 fare of my cotemporaries, critics may disap- 
 prove with the greatest welcome ; the plaudits 
 of men I do not solicit, and their sneers I do 
 not deprecate ; for I endeavour to be equally 
 indifferent to transitory fame, as I am to mer- 
 cenary accumulation, which any person may 
 easily ascertain to be a fact, from the unsys- 
 tematical arrangement of my writings." 
 
 The second quotation is taken from his pre- 
 face to the Pleasures of Death, page 10, and 
 reads as follows : 
 
ADDRESS. 15 
 
 11 The diction and arrangement of the Pa- 
 ternal Dirge needs an apology. Although I 
 have written much poetry, I absolutely dis- 
 claim the title of Poet. Nature alone can 
 make one. There are many who write verses 
 in the commonwealth of literature, but few, 
 very few of them are poets. I remember 
 when I was a novice at composition, that I 
 thought myself a considerable poet. And 
 it was this vanity which indued me with the 
 boldness to write my Avenia, a tragical po- 
 em in five books, in imitation of Homers 
 Iliad. AndT now in the face of the world, 
 debit myself for all the inelegance of compo- 
 sition and doggerel versification in that work, 
 and credit my master with all the beauties 
 in it; and also in the Penitential Tyrant. 
 
 " There are many such boobies, who be- 
 cause they can write a few doggerel verses 
 in a Hymn or Elegy, fancy themselves ex- 
 cellent proficients in the art, when in fact 
 they are no more poets than kings. " 
 
16 ADDRESS. 
 
 a In the present enlightened age, a man 
 must truly be an original genius, if he ever 
 shine as a poet, and merit the laufel crown 
 to grace his brow. Nevertheless I feel a 
 great predilection in favour of the subject 
 matter of Avenia, though the most imper^ 
 feet as well as the first of my works ; be- 
 cause I know by experience, it is as true as it 
 is tragical. And when African slavery is 
 generally exploded, I hope it may be cor- 
 rected and revised by some literary friend, 
 and pass through more editions than it has 
 yet done.'' 
 
 PUBLISHER. 
 
AVENIA. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 !*»**#*** ***************** 
 
 B2 
 
->»»»»^> 
 
 Argument, 
 
 INVOCATION—A short desxfiption of the fertility and beantj 
 of Africa, and the simple pleasures of its inhabitants ...The 
 arrival of the slave ships ...Hospitality of a Native.... Treach- 
 ery of the traders....They surprise the inhabitants in their 
 arrlcss jolity....The youths resist and are murdered, and the 
 females conveyed to the ships.. ..Warriors in a distant towri 
 receive the intelligence by a youth who escaped....They fly to 
 arms.. .The war commences. ..Description of the leader of the 
 sable forces... .His lamentation for his murdered wife- 
 
AVENIA. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 AWAKE my Muse, the inharmonic 
 I sing of arms en Afric 
 Of war, gainst Afr 
 With all th^ t Gold enra 
 
 What pen can h 
 What tongue can ecu- hters of their sv, 
 
 Give me to pair. rd ! 
 
 r re these deeds c: -rse, 
 
 Aid me to trace in ie 
 The native virtues of the sable - 
 And grandeur of their own lain : 
 
 Where, fraught with fragrance, crop? 
 Where cornels, blushing on 
 
 Where with soft tendrils the rich c ine, 
 
 Doth round its frier. : entwine, 
 
 And towering oaks their shadowy branches spr - 
 O'er the fat herds that on their fruit are fed; 
 Where stately palm trees form a coo 
 -reen the native from the sultry fa 
 z all tfc$ w vood 
 
20 AVENIA. 
 
 Prowl on in safety, and enjoy their food, 
 Or satiate by the limpid streams abide, 
 And slumber, as the murmuring waters glide, 
 Where each harmonious warbler of the grove 
 Recounts its Maker's wisdom, truth and love, 
 While the rich now'rets spread their varied dyes, 
 And from ambrosial groves sweet odours rise : 
 There Heathens made terrestrial bliss their own, 
 To Christians, and their bloody arts unknown 5 
 Each humble cottage was a calm retreat, 
 Ne'er purchas'd by the riches of the great ; 
 With happiness and peace, and plenty crown'*! 
 The artless Native^ led their daily round : 
 No soldiers here in glittering armour stood, 
 To guard the despot or await his nod. — 
 Fearless they tripp'd along the verdant mead-;. 
 While crimson garlands crown'd their sable heads; 
 Or from the meads, along the briny main, 
 Or silver rills that bubbled through the plain, 
 Or nodding woods with'purpled beauties crowned, 
 Breathing their aromatic fragrance round. 
 The aged Monarch on the peaceful throne, 
 Rul'd with a sway to Christian kings unknown, 
 His boundless reign the distant realms confest, 
 His people blessing — by his people blest 
 To cheer his age, the sweet Avenia strove, 
 With all the blandishments of filial love, 
 
VENU. 21 
 
 His only daughter she— his only joy ; 
 And brave Lor vert ure was his eldest boy. 
 But for Avekia, kings and heroes burn'd 
 With ardent love, and still their passion mourn 'dt 
 For Angola the royal maid addressed, 
 Whose birth, youth, beauty, far excell'd the rest. 
 They saw and lovM, and still their passion grew, 
 More pure and tender at each interview. 
 While brave Angola void of lust or fears, 
 Express'd his hope, or spake his joy in tears* 
 Oft in the jess'mine hewer, or sylvan grove, 
 They spent the fleeting hours in virtuous love- 
 To crown their hopes : to dissipate their fears, 
 The long expected bridal day appears ! 
 And now perform'd the hymeneal rites, 
 With rustic pomp the nuptial feast delights; 
 Thro* flow'ry fields the new made bride is led 
 With songs of triumph to the spotless bed. 
 While joyful dancers in a circle bound, 
 To the soft lute, and bargee's silver sound. 
 The sable Nymphs now trip the scented mead, 
 With myrtle wreaths adorn Avenia's head; 
 The joyful youths, engag'd in harm less play ; 
 And games heroic, pass the hours away ; 
 These raise the warlike sound, and those advance, 
 In measur'd steps to form the mazy dance ; 
 On beds of roses some are stretch'd along, 
 And charm the enraptur'd ear with sweetest song; 
 
22 AVENIA* 
 
 Others beneath the scented groves are laid, 
 And quaff, and feast them in the fragrant sha^e. 
 The generous palm wine the short joys enhance, 
 And moves them to renew the mazy dance ; 
 And as they sing and symphonize around, \ •: 
 Creation echoes to the grateful sound. 
 
 But soon, alas ! will sounds of anguish flow, 
 And joy's sweet carols end in shrieks of woe. 
 For while they fearless trip the flow'ry plain, 
 The ,rtful Christians plow the liquid main; 
 Approach the golden coast " the whistling gale*, 
 Drive their huge ships, and fill the swelling sails j 
 Tho* ouus and darkness veil the blustering sky, 
 Through darkness, cl^udr and hurricanes they fly ; 
 The' tempests rage and swell the surging main, 
 The seas e'en swell, the tempest rage in vain. 
 One blissful day and night was all the share 
 Of happiness allow'd the wedded pair ; 
 For now each twinkling star had fled away, 
 Before the glory of the dawning day I 
 And bright Aurora left her watry bed, 
 And rear'd above the waves he* dazzling heaxl> 
 When lo ! the Golden Coast appear'd in view, 
 Near, and more near the treacherous vessels drew % 
 And tilting o'er the waves that heav'd below, 
 Reach'd Afric's coast— Dread ministers of wo$! 
 So from the beach are mighty serpents seen. 
 Rolling incumbent on the troubled main, 
 
By the fierce tempests borne, their spires they raise ; 
 Fold above fold, in many a tow'ry maze : 
 Beneath their speckled breasts the waters glow, 
 Their crimson crests inflame the deep below; 
 O'er the vast flood, extended far and wide, 
 Their curling backs, lie floating on the tide; 
 Lash'd to a foam the boiling billows roar, 
 As the tremendous monsters reach the shore. 
 
 The ships now ^nchor'd in the winding bay, 
 As tie devoted towns in prospect lay ; 
 The baptized ruffians meet in council join'd, 
 While dreadful plans engage each hellish mind. 
 And all in horrid unity conclude 
 
 To entrap by fraud, then bathe their swords in blood. 
 Forth from the ships they send their boats well mann'd; 
 Which quick disgorge their contents on the laud. 
 Five artful villains now direct their way, 
 Thro* woodland shades (the rest in ambush lay) 
 And as by streams with cedars overhung, 
 Or through the groves thej cautious steal along, 
 Like hungry wolves when clouds involve the day 
 Their savage eyeballs glare in quest of prey; 
 
 ■light in vain — for at his rustic gate, 
 1 alarm, old Ango sate, 
 
 ia a circle rear'd 
 appear 'd, 
 Of mud and stone. A £-i\\cc of native thorn, 
 Serv'd . and to ad 
 
 C 2 
 
C H AVENIA. 
 
 Soon as th' impostors near th' inclosure drew, 
 With open mouths three furious mastiffs flew, 
 To arrest their course, while the insidious band 
 With feign'd humility, at distance stand* 
 Till beckon'd to approach the good man's door ; 
 They obey, and thus his succour they implore : 
 " Helpless, defenceless, on a foreign land, 
 Behold keen misery before thee stand, 
 Outcasts we rove, familiar with the storms* 
 Inur'd to wretchedness in ail its forms. 
 O let soft pity touch thy generous breast, 
 'Tis what the happy owe to the distress'd ' 
 'Tis what our God requires — our God revere, 
 The poor and strangers are his constant care. 
 Twice ten tempestuous days we roll'd resign'd: 
 To roaring billows, and the boistrous wind ; 
 Heaven bade the deep to spare — at heaven's com* 
 
 mand 
 The winds and waves have borne us to your land. 
 If thou the stranger's righteous cause decline, 
 Ours is the suffering, but the sin is thine." 
 ^ This said the generous Ango thus began, 
 In accents soothing, gracious and humane. 
 " Welcome, unhappy strangers, to my gate, 
 Forbear a while your sorrows to relate $ 
 But enter this my homely roof and see, 
 That 'tis not void of hospitality. 
 Enough of woes already have I known. 
 
AVENIA. 2a 
 
 Enough of others' sorrows and my own." 
 He spake and seconding the kind request, 
 Conducted to his hut each unknown guest ; 
 A brindled lion's hide beneath them spread, 
 And with fresh rushes heap'd the ample bed ; 
 Girding his garments round his sable waist, 
 Forth hied the swain with hospitable haste ; 
 Straight to the lodgment of his herd he sped, 
 Where, for his faithless guests, the fattest bled; 
 Which, dressM in haste, on hissing coals he thjtew, 
 And, smoking, back the savory viand drew. 
 Then with delight he on the board displayed, 
 The ready meal, before the strangers laid, 
 And sat, companion of the friendly feast, 
 With open look, and thus bespake each guest : 
 u Now, take with freedom what our hands prepare, 
 Such food as falls to simple -servant's share. 
 Twas heav'n that sent you to my humble door, 
 'Tisheav'n relieves the stranger and the poor; 
 Taught by the parent of the human race, 
 Whose image shines in every human face, 
 To colour, unconfin'd, my bowels move, 
 To the distress'd in sympathetic love." 
 
 The villains swill the wine, devour the feasf, 
 While schemes of treach'ry ripen in each breast. 
 But skilled in simulation they forbear — 
 And thus to their inquiring host declare : 
 u Through various seas by various perils tost, 
 A nd forced by storms unwilling to your coast, 
 
~6 s AVENIA. 
 
 Far from our destined course, and native land, 
 
 Behold the relics of a Russian band. 
 
 No base design, no meditated end, 
 
 Lurks in our breast, thou sympathizing friend ; 
 
 Sincere our aim witness thou God of love, 
 
 And all ye first born sons of light above ; 
 Witness O earth, and thou great orb of light; 
 And ye fell subjects of the realms of night, 
 Who punish sinners, and dread woes prepare, 
 For all that lie, and all who falsely swear ; 
 If we deceive, may heav'n its vengeance shed, 
 And levell'd thunder strike each guilry head*" 
 To whom good Ango. tc Friends relate no more. 
 Welcome ye tread our hospitable shore ; 
 Mine be the task your sorrows to relieve, 
 To cheer your hearts, nor let affliction grieve. 
 Bear ye with souls resignM the will of Jove ; 
 Who lives must mourn, our woes are from above. 
 Of all that breathe, or grov'Ung creep the earth, 
 Man is most vain; calamitous by birth : 
 To day with power elate, in strength he blooms; 
 The haughty creature on that power presumes : 
 Anon from heav'n a sad reverse he feels, 
 Untaught to bear, 'gainst heav'n the wretch rebels. 
 For man is changeful as his bliss or woe, 
 Too high when prosp'rous, when distress'd, too low. 
 Man then should ne'er be proud, but firm in mind, 
 Bear blessings humbly : be to ills resign' 4*' 
 
LNIA. 27 
 
 He spake — The rufiians all at once display, } 
 Their arms, and evil fov bis good repay, > 
 
 Force him, with all his family, away. J 
 
 His wife and daughters serve their brutal lust, 
 His sons resent, and bite the crimsonM dust. 
 With pond'rous chains they load his generous hands, 
 And drag him from his dear paternal lands. 
 Their course they now pursue along the main, 
 And as they approach the artless sable train ; 
 With their smooth tongues they gain them to their 
 
 mind, 
 For words deceive the best of human kind . 
 A.s from some rock that overhangs the flood, 
 "he artful fisher casts the insidious food, 
 «Vith fraudful care he waits the finny prize, 
 And sudden lifts it quivering to the skies; 
 With equal artifice, with equal care, 
 The treacherous foe the sable maids insnare. 
 A sudden trust now confidently grew, 
 And smiling children round the ruffians drew j 
 «' Give me some beads/' the fearless damsel cries; 
 " Haste then/' the cunning slaver thus replies/' 
 41 To yon grand ship, there riches we'll bestow, 
 Nor Joubt our word, nor fear an artful foe. ,> 
 Each siez'd a youthful maiden's willing arm, 
 Who smiling followed : none suspecting harm; 
 Now to the boat they bear them safe away, 
 A noble prize, and to the ship convey. 
 Quick they ascend the vessel's lofty side, 
 Tow'ring majestk: o'er the briny tide- 
 
 D 
 
28 AVENIA. 
 
 There on the deck their trinkets they unfold 
 The amber chains, the toys resembling gold, 
 The beads, the links : and while their ravish'd eyes 
 View, and review, the fascinating toys, 
 The ruthless sailors seize the ill fated prey, 
 And, screaming to the hold, with force convey. 
 The ambush now approach the distant plain, 
 "Where thro' the groves they spy the dancing train ; 
 Four at a distance lurk, to watch the scene, 
 And view their movements on the flow'ry green. 
 Around their youthful queen the nymphs adya 
 She moves majestic as she lead-s the dance ; 
 In form and mien superior to the rest, 
 With sacred transport glows Avenias bre:i 
 While with the swains her lov'd Angola si] 
 And wakes to love, the banjoe's well-taught s.tri 
 Behind irreg'lar move the chaunting train, 
 And time the voice, and answer to the strain. 
 Twice twenty warriors as their guardians stand, 
 Six shepherd's dogs complete the rural band, 
 And fleecy flocks that crop the tender green, 
 Skip, o'er the lawns and heighten all the scene—-- 
 When lo ! the Christians suddenly arise 
 In arms, and furious rush upon their prize; 
 The sable nymphs they seize to sate their lust, 
 While heaps of slaughter'd swains bestrew the d 
 One youth escapM of ail the warrior train, 
 Swift speeds his flight across the ensaflgu 
 
While brave Angola by the Fiends oppressed 
 Undaunted wields his weapon — bares his breast — 
 That breast which heaves with sorrow not his own. 
 But for his lov'd Avenia — her alone. 
 To rescue her he strives, but strives in vain. 
 O'erpower'd by numbers, to the galling cUaiii 
 He yields reluctant, and from her he loves, 
 Toward the floating dungeon, pensive moves ; 
 While from his numerous wounds the noble blood, 
 Slow streaming, marks his footsteps thro* the wood, 
 The widow'd bride, in misery complete 
 Now swoons a victim at the tyrant's feet 
 Impatient he beholds the royal prize, 
 While lust and rapine swell his brutish eyes, 
 Grudging he views her short reprieve from woe — 
 And waits, till life's returning current flow. 
 Auenia now to hated life restor'd, 
 In plaintive sounds bewails her absent Lord : 
 •■ Where have ye borne my soul's far better part ! 
 She said, while anguish fiU'd her widow'd heart, 
 Ah, tell me, Christians ; whither have ye borne^ 
 My Ajigola, from his lov'd partner torn. 
 If pity ever mov'd a Christian breast, 
 If, of one gen'rous principle possest, 
 Oh, bear me to him ,, — more she strives to say, 
 Bir. the fierce ruffians hurry her away ; 
 While bound with chains amid the hapless sl.u 
 With frantic and de.I'iious grief she raves. 
 
AVENIA. 
 
 The youth aniv ? d, now hastens to impart, 
 With weeping eyes and agonizing heart ; 
 To listening^warriors as they stand around, 
 The melancholy tidings — grief profcnud, 
 And rage, and vengeance agitate each breast, 
 While thus the panting youth his woes expressed : 
 " Sad tidings, friends and fathers, must you hear, 
 And I, alas, must be the messenger; 
 The bloody Christians in unequal fight, 
 Have robb'd your children of their natal right ; 
 Your ravish'd daughters to the ships they bore, 
 And your brave sons lie welt* ring in their gore; 
 And I alone oppressed with mighty woe, 
 Scarce with my life escap'd the savage foe." 
 He spake — when lo, in arms the warrior train. 
 Rush from the town, and scour the distant plain. 
 Swift as on wings they flew, or seem'd to fly ; 
 And drifts of dust invclv'd the golden sky; 
 Thus from his flaggy wings when Notus sheds 
 A night of vapours round the mountain heads, 
 Swift gliding mists the dusky fields invade, 
 To thieves more grateful than the midnight siu. 
 While scarce the swains their feeding flocks w 
 Lost and confus'd amidst the thicken'd day : 
 So wrapt in gathering dust, the sable train, 
 A moving cloud, swept on and hid the plain. 
 They stop to listen, and they hear from 
 
AVENIA. 31 
 
 Dire shrieks— they fly again to meet the war; 
 And soon the Christians reach the silver flood, 
 Heap'd with the slain, and red with human blood ! 
 They view their gasping sons, extended die, 
 And tears of rage stand trembling in each eye- 
 Awhile they weep, then to the battle turn ; 
 Breathing revenge, and for the combat burn. 
 The intrepid prince his myrmidons inspires, 
 The brave Louver ture by example fires. 
 Amidst his host the royal hero stood, 
 And sent his voice before him as a flood; 
 Keen flash the flames, and lighten from his eyes, 
 "While fir'd with fury to the camp he flies: 
 So the fierce bull, collected in his might, 
 Roars for hfs rival, and demands the fight; 
 Impatient for the war with fury burns, 
 And tries on ev'ry tree his angry horns ; 
 Bends his stern brow, and pushes at the air, 
 And paws the flying sand, the prelude of the war. 
 The shrieks of maidens and the shouting foe, 
 Swell his bold heart, and only make it glow; 
 Fearless of death he views the Christian bands, 
 Pants for the battle and the war demands. 
 Amid his host, majestically tall, 
 Louverture stands and far outtops them all ; 
 And with a voice heroic, loud and strong, 
 He thus harangues and animates the throng •. 
 
32 AVENIA. 
 
 cc Fellows in arms, whose deeds are known to fame; 
 
 And you, whose ardor hopes an equal name, 
 
 Though not alike endowM with force and art* 
 
 Behold a day for each to act his part.- 
 
 A day to fire the brave, to warm the cold, 
 
 To gain new glories, or augment the old ; 
 
 For lo ! on this momentous day, depend 
 
 The fates of father, brother, wife and friend. 
 
 Let each reflect whx> prizes fame or breath, 
 
 On endless slavery, or on instant death ; 
 
 Could all our care elude the gloomy grave, 
 
 Which claims alike the fearful and the brave, 
 
 For lust of fame I should not vainly dare, 
 
 The impious foe ; nor urge your souls to war. 
 
 But since disease, and age, and death will come, 
 
 And all must meet th* inexorable doom, 
 
 The life which others pay, let us bestow, 
 
 And give to fame, what we to nature owe. 
 
 Your ancient valour on the foes approve, 
 
 Jove is with us, and we will trust in Jove. 
 
 'Tis not for us, but our proud foes to dread, 
 
 Whose crimes sit heavy on each perjui' J head. 
 
 And O !" he cries, " thoa ruler of the sky, 
 
 Who holdest in thine hand our destiny, 
 
 Who o'er me, oft, thy guardian shield hast spread, 
 
 While dawning conquest play'd around my head, 
 
 Thou., only thou, canst bless my bold design, 
 
AVENIA. 33 
 
 Inspire my breast and make the vict'ry mine." 
 Then on his lance the hero cast a look, 
 And firmly grasp'd it, and with ardor spoke : 
 u My trusty weapon, faithful to my hand, 
 Still wing'd with death, to answer my command, 
 Which once brave Langa's arm was wont to wieln 
 And mine now throws, the terror of the field, 
 In this dread moment fly, nor fly in vain, 
 But stretch yon haughty tyrants on the plain." 
 He spoke and arm'd with death in either hand, 
 His sword and lance, he speeds from band to bai 
 The enemy, resolute, their onset dare ; 
 Condense their powers, and meet the coming 
 Lowcerture leads; all fix on him their eye, 
 ResolVd with him to conquer or to die. 
 And now, my Muse assist me to proclaim, 
 Who fac'd him first, and press'd the purple pla 
 Imperious Hodge, advancing, void of fear, 
 First met the vengeance of his thirsty spear; 
 Prone in the dust the panting tyrant lay, 
 While brave Lomerture lopp'd his head aw 
 The fight begun, promiscuous shouts arise, 
 And dreadful clangors echo through the skies ; 
 Next the fam'd Dundas felt the fatal wound; 
 Sudden he fell, and falling bit the ground. 
 Louverture left him in the shades of night, 
 Then press'd amidst the thickest ranks of fight : 
 
34 AVENIA. 
 
 A haughty pamper'd ruffian, dead to fame* 
 Oppfcs'd his way, and Peacock was his name. 
 Soon as the prince he saw, the coward fle<J, 
 And in his flight was number'd with the dead ; 
 For, from behind, the chief's unerring dart, 
 Enter*d his back, and quivered in his heart ; 
 from the torn fount the crimson torrent flow'd, 
 And his knees sunk beneath their dying load. 
 
 The natives now in phalanx firm unite, 
 And mix with dying groans their shouts in fight: 
 O'er heaps of carcasses and clotted gore, 
 The heroes press toward the distant shore. 
 The brave Louverture with resistless hand, 
 Pursues, o'erturns, confounds the Christian band ; 
 Gn strong O'Brien next inflicts a wound, 
 And lays proud Thompson gasping on the ground. 
 While he lay foaming on the purple plain, 
 The far fam'd villain, Barringtonby name, 
 Wing'd with wild fears, in vain did strive to fly, 
 The ships too distant and the foe too nigh : 
 The eager dart transfixt him as he fled, 
 And soon enrolled him with th' ignoble dead. 
 At Brinton next the hero hurl'd his spear, 
 Which flew unerring through the yielding air, 
 The chief rush'd on regardless of the sound, 
 Till in his breast he felt the fatal wound. 
 Mondingo now, a chief well skill'd in arms, 
 
AVENU. 3a 
 
 Leads forth to combat his infuriate swarms; 
 He fights, he conquers, prodigal of breath, 
 And seeks the certain, glorious path to death : 
 See, while he fires the brave victorious throng, 
 Prince urge on prince, and chief drive chief along ; 
 Heaps upon heaps, the slaughter'd Cbrstians lie, 
 And hideous shouts of conquest rend the sky. 
 The vengeance of his arms proud Otto feels, 
 And to the sable chief his life he yields ; 
 By the keen blade his head was lopp'd away„ 
 And rolling lifeless midst the dead it lay; 
 So quick the stroke, awhile the body stood, 
 Then fell and ting'd the yellow sand with blood. 
 Next came O* Conner at his squadron's head, 
 A chief well suited to the men he led; 
 Scarce had he met Mondingo's troops, before 
 He fled, with all his dastards to the shore. 
 Next Sir "John Standford dead to virtuous fame, 
 A deer in heart with an illustrious name, 
 
 ids to fate ; the sword his belly rends, 
 •And to the shades his guilty spirit sends. 
 A ruffian stopt and Taylor was his name, 
 To meet in arms this terror of the plain; 
 For the proud foe the prince directs his course. 
 But pale with fear he dreads superior force : 
 Full in his eye, the flying spear he drove ; 
 His starring feet denv him power to move 
 D 2 
 
36 AVENIA. 
 
 His loose head tottering as with rum oppress'd, 
 Obliquely drops, and nodding strikes his breast; 
 And as he reels towards his sandy bed, 
 Mondingo from his shoulders cleaves the head; 
 To earth at xmce the head and jav'lin fly, 
 The quiv 'ring lance still sticking in the eye. 
 The prince now seiz'd it, and aloft he shook, 
 While to his sable myrmidons he spoke ; 
 ** Ye far fam'd Africans, behold your foe, . 
 Such is the fate proud Christians soon shall know." 
 He spake no more, but toss'd the head on high; 
 The tyrants see, they tremble, and they fly. 
 Now haughty Bridges met the flying death. 
 Fate sent the dart to rob him of his breath, 
 Swift to perform HeavVs righteous will it sped i 
 Just at the juncture of the neck and head, 
 It enter'd deep, and sever'd them in twain; 
 Hat, wig, and head all tumbled to the plain. 
 Now hissd the spears by sable heroes flung, 
 And feather d arrows from the bowstrings sung, 
 Some drank the spouting blood of tyrants slain, 
 Some, missing, thirsted for their blood in vain. 
 The brave Louverture now appears in sight, 
 .Forbids to plunder, and commands to fight, 
 Then with a furious voice the hero cries, 
 «« Who dares to linger, by this hand he dies, 
 eeping sister his cold lips shall close. 
 
AVENIA. 37 
 
 No friendly hand his funeral pile compose, 
 
 Who stops to plunder on this signal day, 
 
 The birds shall tear him, and the beasts shall slay." 
 
 The Christians hear the voice with wild despair, 
 
 Confuse! each face, and fill'd each heart with fear ; 
 
 Mondingo rush'd amid his sable crew, 
 
 And sent his voice before him as he flew, 
 
 Loud as wild winds, or as the bellowing roar, 
 
 Of mighty surges thundering on the shore; 
 
 Duncan beheld the Prince come furious on, 
 
 And thus in vaunting words his speecfi began, 
 
 " Pierc'd by my sword, to endless darkness go, 
 
 Thou proud black savage, to the realms below." 
 
 At this the hero cast a dreadful look 
 
 On the vain man, and thus he briefly spoke : 
 
 *• Come Tyrant meet thy fate." To him no more, 
 
 But struck the boaster gasping on the shore, 
 
 Fixing the arrow to his well strung bow, 
 
 He sent the flying vengeance at the foe, 
 
 His frowning face it enter'd, and betwixt 
 
 The mouth and nose its fatal barb it fix'd. 
 
 Headlong he falls, and falling bites the ground, 
 
 Hell groans to meet him in the dark profound, 
 
 Viewing the monster death in wild affright, 
 
 His Soul with shrieks rush'd to the realms of night. 
 
 And now another shaft the hero drew, 
 
 The other shaft another tyrant slew; 
 
 Again he twangs the string, the vengeance flies, 
 
;? AVENIA. 
 
 Death on its point, and sings along th« skiesr 
 An honourable villain's face it tore, 
 And dip*d its feathers in illustrious gore; 
 Between the cheek and eye the arrow went, 
 The skull it shatterd, and the tongue it rent; 
 The son now rushing furious through the fight, 
 Beheld his Sire, and sickeiVd at the sight, 
 Down from his eyes the filial torrents flow, 
 And the rasti ; youth defies the intrepid foe. 
 Ev'n while he weeps, the vengeful weapon flies, 
 But erring sings along the vacant skies. 
 He sees it fall, and deprecates his woe, 
 Curses the lance that spar'd the savage foe. 
 But not in vain Mondingos dart is thrown, 
 It wounds the stripling to the shoulder bone. 
 Prone on his knees, oppres'd with pain and fear 
 He sinks, and sees the intervening spear ; 
 The hapless youth in suppliant posture press'd, 
 The Hero's feet, and thus his prayer address*!: 
 ■« O spare my youth, and for the life \ owe, 
 A gen'rous ransom shall my friends bestow; 
 Rich silver trinkets, beads, and brass, and gold, 
 Shall without measure in your town be told. 
 Mild pity touched the Hero's yielding heart, 
 Who still suspended the destroying dart ; 
 And with compassion beaming from his eyes, 
 He spares, and bids the trembling youth arise . 
 Meantime his consort on the distant plain, 
 Seek* he? M&ndingo t and believes him slain* 
 
AVEN1A. o\ 
 
 x i \vhe re is my Prince:?" she cries, " my only joy* 
 Where does he fight, cr where his arms employ*?" 
 A tyrant view'd her as in haste she ran, 
 A wretch unworthy of the name of man, 
 Hawkins by name, precipitate he flies, 
 In close pursuit, o'ertakes his hapless prize J 
 With rage relentles fells her to the ground, 
 And rips her belly with a ghastly wound. 
 Against the bloody foe with wild affright; 
 Mondivgo rush'd distracted at the sight; 
 il To me alone, « c he cries/' thy rage confine, 
 Here sheath thy sword, or bravely challenge mine- 
 By yon bright sun, and by the silver flood, 
 Her hands, her thoughts are innocent of bloodj 
 Her only crime (and oh, can this offend?) 
 Is too much love forme, her dearest friend". ■ * 
 
 In vain he spake the ruthless fee, impress'd 
 
 With rage, transhVd Gvenal's panting breast, 
 Like a fierce Tiger o'er the plain he bounds, 
 ^nd frantic he beholds her streaming wounds; 
 Hangs o'er his wife.— while tears with eager pact 
 Flow down his cheeks— -and in a fond embrace, 
 Watches with eager look, her languid eyes; 
 
 She sobs she gasps and in his arms she dies. 
 
 Now round her waist his loving arms he threw, 
 And from the bloody combat gently drew; 
 And as with mournful heart the corpse he bore 
 Toward the town, his path was mark»d with gore. 
 Slow he advanced At length approaching near, 
 
40 AVENIA. 
 
 Her breathless body plac'd upon a bier, 
 
 A shower of tears reliev'd his grief-swoln breast. 
 
 And thus aloud his sorrows he express'd: 
 
 « Ye wretched Dames and Sons of Africa, 
 
 Turn hither, and behold with sad dismay 
 
 Mondingds consort murderd by the foe, 
 
 And share with me in this our common woe. 
 
 Oft have you rush'd in crowds, with great delight, 
 
 To hail your hero, glorious from the fight j 
 
 But now, alas, your sympathy impart. 
 
 To sooth the sorrows of my bursting heart. v 
 
 Then on the ground the Chief his body threw, 
 
 And grov'lmg seem'd, as to the earth he grew; 
 
 His tortur'd oreast he beat and tore his hair, 
 
 While bitter cries and wailings rent the air. 
 
 The sympathizing natives gather round, 
 
 Beat their black breasts, and lost in grief profound 
 
 With the : r lov'd chief lie scatter'd on the ground 
 
 Each relative now pours a social flood, 
 
 And for Mondingo cries and* weeps aloud ; 
 
 But most his mother bears the tender part, 
 
 She mourns his anguish with a mother's heart. 
 
 My much lov'd Son, 1 haste thy woes to share, 
 
 And sooth thy sorrows with a parent's care.'' 
 
 Deep groaning with unutterable grief, 
 
 And agonizing woe beyond relief, 
 
 He strove to speak, and as he strove he shed 
 
 A flood of pearly tears, and thus he said : 
 
 ** Ovenal — — %h f my Mother, all is lost 
 
 Mondlngd s chiefest treasure— A fric's boast? 
 
 I 
 
AVENIA. 4,1 
 
 Qvenal dead! thy Son now lothes to live, 
 Nor friends, nor earth itself, can pleasure give. 
 Let me avenge it on proud Hawkins heart, 
 Let his curst spirit smoke upon my dart ; 
 On this condition will I breathe^ — 'till theVi 
 I blush to walk among the race of men." 
 
 11 Ah, cease my Son «' the anxious mother said, 
 Let me not #ee thee number'd with the dead; 
 When Hawkins falls thou diesV " Let Hawkins dl$ } 
 And let me fall," Mondingo made reply; 
 My dear, dear, consort! on her natal plain 
 She fell, and falling sought my aid in vain. 
 Oh then, since fr©m this miserable day, 
 I cast all hope of happiness away; 
 Shtcc, unreveng'd, my murder'd wife demands, 
 The life of Hawkins f rom Mondingo a hands: 
 
 Let me But oh, ye mighty powers above, 
 
 Wrath and revenge from mortal man remove s- 
 
 Revenge- by far too dear to every breast. 
 
 Sweet to the heart as honey to the taste 5 
 Yes. I must slay the murderer of my wife* 
 Or (if the heavens ordain it) lose my life; 
 Let me this instant rush into the fields, 
 And reap what glory life's short harvest yields. 
 But now the hostile armies quit the plain, 
 For Sol, approaching to the western main, 
 Deep in the Ocean sinks his golden light, 
 And yields his empire to the Queen of Night; 
 
 r «The conq'rinqr natives mourn the abseat day, 
 £ 2 
 
42 AVE X Li. 
 
 While vanquish'd Christians skulk in shades awayj 
 
 The frighted tyrants panting from the war, 
 
 A sudden council call upon the shore: 
 
 Each chief conven'd in dread dismay appears, 
 
 Standing and trembling, for to sit he fears; 
 
 'Twas now no time for eloquent debate, 
 
 They fear'd Mo-dingo, and in him their fate. 
 
 Silent they stood, till Cunningham at last, 
 
 Skill* d to foresee the future by the past; 
 
 The friend of Hawkins and of equal years, 
 
 With solemn sadness thus express'd his fears; 
 
 In free debate, my friends, your sentence speak, 
 For me I move, before the morning break, 
 To raise our camp; too dangrous here our post, 
 Far from our ships, and on a naked coast. 
 Thus fierce I deem'd not negroes, while engag'd 
 In mutual feuds their prince and hero rag'd; 
 Then while we hop'd our squadrons might prevail, 
 We boldly camp'd beside twice twenty sail. 
 I dread Mondingo now, his rage of mind, 
 Not long continues to the town confin'd 
 Nor to the field, where long in equal fray, 
 Contending armies won and lost the day ; 
 For blood, for blood, shall henceforth be the strife, 
 And the hard contest, not for fame, but life. 
 Haste then on board, while yet the favoring night 
 Detains those terrors; keeps that arm from fight ; 
 sun behold us here; 
 
AVENIA. 4® 
 
 That arm, those terrors, we shall feel not fear. 
 And hearts that now disdain, with joy shall leap, 
 If heav'n permit them to regain their strp. 
 Let not my fatal prophecy be true, 
 Nor what I tremble but to think, ensue; 
 Whatever be our fate, yet let us try 
 What force of thought or reason can supply," 
 He spake. When thus the Blinking Chief address'd 
 His myrmidons, and thus his fears confess'd: 
 
 u Cease we at length to waste ouj blood in vain,; 
 We'll launch what ships lie nearest to the main, 
 Leave these at anchor 'till the morning light, 
 Then put to sea, and hoist all sail for Bight; 
 Better from evils well foreseen, to run, 
 Than perish in the danger we may shun; 
 Of partial heaven with justice I complain, 
 That bless'd with victory the sable train: 
 Now shameful flight alone can save our host, 
 Our blood, our booty and our cargoes lost. 
 So GOD directs, resistless Lord of all, 
 At whose command whole nations rise and fall ; 
 He shakes the feeble props of human trust, 
 And towns and armies humbles in the dust. 
 Our cordage torn, decay'd our vessels lie, 
 And scarce insure the wretched povv'r to fly: 
 Haste then,^ior hope to see the negroes fall; 
 Our weeping wives, our tender children cali* 
 Love, duty, safety, summon, us away, 
 
44 AVENIA. 
 
 Tis nature's voice, and nature^R obey. 
 
 Our shattered ships may yet transport us o'er, 
 
 Tho* without slaves, to our paternal Shore/ 
 
 Thus spake the chief, when lo, in youthful pride 5 
 
 Lambert the brave, with eloquence replied^ 
 
 Lambert, in raiment beauteous to behold, 
 
 Of crimson hue, and fringM with flow'rs of gold, 
 
 Flush'd with the bloom of youth, his features shine, 
 
 His hair in ringlets waving in the wind ; 
 
 In perfect symmetry appear'd the man, 
 
 And to the listening council thus began: 
 
 t* Return!" he cries, and looks with stern disdain. 
 What! coop whole squadrons in our ships again. 
 Was't not enough, ye valiant soldiers, say, 
 Nine months imprisoned in these towers we lay? 
 And now arriv'd, to arms our int'rest calls, 
 Yet you would pen us up in wooden walls! 
 To better council then, attention lend, 
 Take due refreshment, and the watch attc 
 Scon as the morn yon purple orient warms, 
 Fierce on the negroes we will turn our arms. 
 If great Mondingo rises in his might, 
 His be the danger, we will stand the fight." 
 He spake. When thus his noble Sire began, 
 The vet'ran Chieftain of the Christian b 
 Casting on Hawkins his disdainful eyes, 
 And to his former speech in brief replies : 
 What shameful words base dastard as tho; 
 
FA. 
 
 Fall from that trembling tongue and tinVrous heart .: 
 Oh ! were thy sway the curse of meaner powers, 
 And thou the shame of any host but ours. 
 
 wilt thou thus desert the fertile plain- 
 And have whole streams of blood been spilt in vaini 
 In such base counsel if thou couch thy fear 
 Speak it in whispers, lest a soldier hear ; 
 "Lives there a man so dead to fame, who dare 
 To think such meanness, or the thought declare ? 
 And comes it from an officer, whose sway 
 Our banded troops implicitly obey:" 
 
 Thy just reproofs (thus Hawkins calm replies,) 
 Like arrows pierce me, for thy words are wise ; 
 
 Tiling as I am to lose the host, 
 I force you not to leave the hateful coast ; 
 Glad I submit. Let either young or old, 
 Aught more conducive to our weal unfold/' 
 Brave Lambert stopp'd him short and thus began, 
 u Such counsel if thou seek, behold the man 
 Who boldly gives it, and what he shall say, 
 Young though he be, disdain not to obey ; 
 
 i what for common good my thoughts 
 Attend, and in the son respect the sire. 
 Though sore of battle and with wounds c 
 
 nate the rest ; 
 Advance'the glory which he car, 
 If not partaker, witness of 
 
46 AVENIA. 
 
 Thus Hawkins answerM when \W youth had done : 
 " Intrepid soldier, and my youthful friend, 
 Thy warm impatience makes thy tongue offend ; 
 On better measures then employ thy thought, 
 In such distress if counsel profit aught ; 
 Arms cannot much, though courage may incite^ 
 Our gaping wousds withhold us from the fight. 
 We strove to conquer slaves, and now we yield ; 
 'Tis time when routed, to forsake the field. 
 Black fate hangs o'er us from th' avenging God, 
 We feel his judgments and vindictive rod. 
 Then let us flee, our sails and oars employ. 
 And dream no more yon army to destroy s 
 Haste then, forever quit these fatal fields, 
 Haste to the joy our native country yields.** 
 
 He said.. ..Deep silence held the Christian band ; 
 Awhile unmov'd in dire dismay they stand, 
 A pensive scene ; till Willmore's warlike son, 
 RollM on the chief his eyes, and thus begun; 
 '* If I oppose thee, yet thy wrath withhold, 
 The laws of council bid my tongue be bold. 
 And have we cross'd the deep, the stormy main,^ 
 And have our heroes fought and bled in vain? V 
 Shall we inglorious quit the field of fame ? 
 Is this a general's voice, that would sugget; 
 Fears like his own to ev'ry soldier's breast r 
 Confiding in our want of worth he stand* 
 
AFENIA. 4r 
 
 And if we fly, 'tis what our chief commands. 
 Go thou poltroon, desert the embattled plain, 
 Thy ship lies nearest to the surgy main \ 
 A nobler care our soldiers shall employ, 
 To fight, to conquer, and return with joy ; 
 Here let us stay, or if our troops retire, -y 
 
 Myself will fight, and with my valiant sire, > 
 
 In deeds of prowess gloriously expire.'* ~* 
 
 He ceas'd....The troops loud acclamations raise,. 
 From rank, to rank resounds brave Lambert's praise; 
 Fierce Wilhnore then his lofty figure rear'd, 
 And while the chiefs in still attention heard, 
 The noble hero on his spear in^lin'd, 
 And bending forward, thus reveal'd his mind ; 
 u Form'd by kind heav'n in all things to excel, 
 And first to act what you advise so well ; 
 The wholesome counsels which you wisely move, 
 Our soldiers all with common voice approve ; 
 Chiefs thou canst blame, a bold but prudent youth, 
 And blame e'en chiefs with praise, because with truth; 
 But let me add what yet remains behind, 
 A thought imfinish'd in that gen'rous mind: 
 The chief it fits alike to speak and hear, 
 Pronounce with judgment, .with regard give ear; 
 Tasee no wholesome motion be withstood, 
 And ratify the best for general good ; 
 ( Nor, though a meaner give advice, repine, 
 But follow it, and make the wisdom thine ; 
 
48 AVENIA. 
 
 Hear then a thought, not now conceiv'tl in ha$te; 
 At once my present judgment and my past: 
 Improve the night, and use her peaceful hours, 
 Our troops t* encourage and refresh our pc 
 Straight in the vessels be provisions sought, 
 And to th* exhausted men be quickly brought, 
 Let the physicians, medicine prepare, 
 And b€ the wounded their peculiar care ; 
 Wide o'er the fields high blazing to the sky- 
 Let numerous fires the absent sun supply; 
 The flaming piles with plenteous fuel raise, 
 Till the bright morn her orient light displays 5 
 To keep strict watch must now command our car^ 
 But soon as Phoebus rides through fields of air. 
 Refreshed in arms, let every troop engage ; 
 And yon fir'd town behold the battle rage." 
 The leader spake. From all the troops around. 
 Shouts of applause along the shores resound. 
 Meanwhile around their lov'd Ovenal slain 
 In solemn sadness mov'd the sable train. 
 Stern, in superior grief Mondingo lay, 
 And claspM in mute distress the lifeless clay 
 Then from his turgid eyes impetuous start, 
 Salt tears, while sighs burst from his swelling he* 
 In accents wild, his mighty grief he vents, 
 And thus his murder'd consort he laments: 
 
 " My dear QvenaU yet awhile I stay, 
 Then swift pursue thee in the darVscme w*jr : 
 
AVENIA. 49 
 
 Thus let me lie till then— thus closely press'd 
 Bathe thy cold face, and sob upon thy breast. 
 No— let me rise and meet the bloody foe — 
 With fell revenge I feel my bosom glow." 
 Eager he waits the slow returning light, 
 Reviews the corpse, and sickens at the sight ; 
 Bids the obedient maids and matrons round 
 To cleanse the body, wash each gaping wound ; 
 And then with cautious and with pious toil, 
 T'adjust as usual and anoint with oil. 
 
 w Farewel — alas ! Farewell Mondingo cries, 
 As to the corpse again he turns his eyes ; 
 " Accept these tears — for thee — for thee, they flow; 
 For thee, who ever felt another's woe; 
 Thy heart was tender, and thy bosom kind, 
 Joy of my life, and solace of my mind ; 
 I left thee fresh, and beauteous, and gay, 
 Now find thee cold inanimated clay ; 
 Alas, what woes my wretched life attend, 
 Sorrows on sorrows, never doom'd to end ; 
 Thy sweet society, thy winning care 
 Oft stayed Mondingo rushing to the war; 
 What greater sorrow could afflict my breast, 
 What more, though hoary Lango were deceas'd. 
 I hop'd Ovenal might survive to rear 
 Our tender infant, with a parent's care, 
 But now, alg,s, to death's cold arms resigned 
 What banquet but revenge can glad my mind !" 
 
AVENIA. 
 BOOK II. 
 
»»»»»» 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Before daylight LANGO, the king's youngest son leaves the town 
 and joins the warrior train....His youth» filial love, and courage 
 descri>«^...The battle commences with the rising sun. ..Num- 
 ber of men that fall on either sidc.XANGO is slain by 
 .^-^ a WlLLMORE..His mother frantic, laments with the old king 
 over the corpse when borne to the town....LOUVERTURE 
 pursues WILLMO RE, kills LAMBERT his son, then WILL- 
 MORE himself....He is described as an Aiheist, fears to die..,. 
 Slaver's army completely routed....The Africans while pursu- 
 ing them to their boats, behold twenty Guinea ships standing 
 in for the shore. ...They are discouraged, and give up the pur-" 
 suit., ..The sun sets. 
 
AVENIA. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 And now bright Venus halls th* approach of day, 
 Before Aurora spreads her purple ray ; 
 Or Sol triumphant on his golden car, 
 With loosen'd reins ascends the atmosphere ; 
 E'er his fierce steeds high bounding o'er the sea, 
 From their wide nostrils snorted beams of day ; 
 The monarch's youngest son, athirst for fame, -% 
 r.oble Lango, scours across the plain, £ 
 
 To join his brothers and the warrior train. J 
 
 as the little sable boy could go, 
 his young shoulders hung a slender bow ; 
 \ small light quiver at his side he wore, 
 And in his hand a painted jav'iin bore 
 No rich embroidery did his limbs enfold, 
 Nor was his hair adorn'd with gems or gold ; 
 
 spoils of a fierce tiger wrapp'd him round, 
 That from his head hung trailing to the ground ; 
 Ev'n then his tender hand the dart could fling, 
 Or with the pebble from the sounding sling, 
 
 k« the long crane or snowy swan on high, 
 Or fetch the tow'ring eagle from the sky. 
 
 Such was the youth. Swift to the camp he ran, 
 F v> 
 
AFJENXA* 
 
 And thus to bvave Louver ture he began ; 
 
 «« A glorious zeal, my Brother, breaks my rest, 
 
 Some great exploit lies throbing at my breast ; 
 
 Permit me now to join the bloody fray, 
 
 And die or conquer, on this signal day. 
 
 The prince beheld him, and devoid of pride, 
 
 First shed a tender tear, and thus replied: 
 
 *• And wilt thou, Lango, ah too thoughtless boy, 
 Thy mother's comfort and thy father's joy — 
 And wilt thou thus thy tender life expose, 
 To the relentless rage of Christian foes? 
 Canst thou unmov'd thy loving sire bereave 
 Of such a son, and force him to the grave ? 
 Say, wilt thou cause thy mother's soul to k 
 Heartrending pangs*— -unutterable woe I 
 Thy dear fond mother, whom the loss of i 
 :d plunge in woe and sov'reign misery — " 
 
 *' In vain (he cries) my courage you restrain, 
 Ay soul's on fire, and you but plead in vain* 
 Thy self can witness to my courage tried, 
 We've vanquished woodland monsters side by side; 
 Like thine, this bosom glows with martial flame, 
 Burns with a scorn of life, and love of fame;! 
 And thinks if endless glory can be sought 
 On such low terms, the prize is cheaply bought" 
 
 " Let not one jealous fear alarm thy breast, 
 »,The chief replies) thy valour stands confess'dt 
 
AVENIA. 
 
 •SS 
 But Father let tbe task devolve on me,' 
 
 In such a war 1 dare not think on thee ; 
 No, let me fight the cruel Christian train, 
 Then come, victorious to thy arms again, 
 But should it be by righteous heav'n decreed, 
 That thy Louverture by the foe should bleed, 
 Live thou; in death some pleasure it will give: 
 Live for thy Brother's sake, I charge thee, live! 
 Thy tender youth a longer term demands, 
 Live, to release my corpse from hostile Hands; 
 And decent to the silent grave command, 
 The relics of thy brother 1 and thy friend; 
 Or raise at least, by kind remembrance led*, 
 A vacant tomb in honour of the dead ; 
 But if thou art resolv'd the war to wage , 
 And rise the Zanga of the future age, 
 Thee henceforth nothing from my soul shall part, 
 Still at my sideband ever at my heart." 
 
 ° Tho* heav'n, (replies the youth) alone can bless, 
 Yet still my courage shall deserve success; 
 One only boon I ask thee, e'er I go, 
 The greatest I can ask, or thou bestowr 
 My mother ever tender, fond and good, 
 Thinks I am hunting in the distant wood. 
 Such is her love, she fears to let me see, 
 The dire effects of Christian villany, 
 And such is mine that I must keep unknown 
 Frg danger of so dear a Son; 
 
 G 
 
56 AVENIA. 
 
 To spare her anguish, lo, I quit the place, 
 Without one parting kiss, one last embrace. 
 
 If I should fall, thy pity I implore 
 For her, ah, comfort her when I'm no more; 
 With this dear hope, imbolden'd will I go, 
 Brave ever'y danger and defy the foe-" 
 Phoebus had now dispers'd the shades of night, 
 And scatter'd o'er the earth his sacred light, 
 When brave Louverture rush'd to meet the foe. 
 While for his brother tears unbidden flow; 
 -And as impetuous he moves along, 
 Me exhorts, harangues, and animates the throng. 
 His men all follow; echoing clangors rise, 
 In peals successive, thundering to the skies. 
 Then, nor till then, in fight young Lango bore, 
 His twanging bow, employed on beasts before" 
 His vengeful shaft a noble victim found, 
 And stretch/d imperious Watson on the ground; 
 He first by Lango s poison'd arrows bled, 
 Next Starges, then proud Sanderson fell dead; 
 Fierce Peters next fell groaning to the ground* 
 The pile of carnage cruel Nelson crown'd 
 Heaps fell, the glorious trophies of his art, 
 A Christian Ghost attended every dart. 
 Twice twenty arrows from his hand had fledy 
 And full twice twenty brigands he laid dead. 
 A ruffian now approaching, base and proud, 
 Meets the brave youth, and vainly boasts aloud ; 
 
AVENIA. a 
 
 " Hence, you young Savage, to the town again, 
 And play with children and the female train; 
 Go to the town, your sire awaits you there, 
 And leave to men the business of the war/* 
 He said, and aim'd a meditated blow; 
 But Lango shun'd the disappointed foe ; 
 And thus undanted spake; " Such words employ* 
 To one that dreads thee, some unwarlike boy v 
 Such I could give, defying and defy'd, 
 Mean interchange of obloquy and pride: 
 I know thy force to mine superior far, 
 But Heav'n alone confers success in war; 
 Young tho' I be, great Jove may guide my dart, 
 And give it entrance to a braver heart : 
 Plung'd when an infant in the fringed stream* 
 I feel its influence animate each limb; 
 Well skiH*d the woods to range, pursue the boar> 
 Nor fear the woodland monsters when they roar. 
 Long thirst and hunger, youths like me can bear. 
 Hunt, fight, and shake embattled towns with war; 
 Nor flags our gen'rous warmth by years declined, 
 Still flames the noble ardour of the mind ; 
 EVa the grave sire with martial vigour glows, 
 Scoms fear, and longs to meet his country's foes : 
 But you delight to profit by our toils, 
 Subsist on rapine, and divide the spoils, 
 Eager ye seek our nation to destroy, 
 Aad place in dying groans your cruel joy. 
 
58 AVENIA. 
 
 Your sable souls your ruddy forms disgrace, 
 Hence then ye Tyrants, to your native place* 
 Haste to your bloodstain'd Christendom, awayj^ 
 Ye hypocrites, pollute not Africa.* 
 He spake, and now prepar'd his well-strung bow, 
 And closely view'd the boasting Christian foe, 
 And then to heav'n address'd his ardent pray'r, 
 With reverential awe and heart sincere : 
 
 " My bold attempt, Almighty Sire, succeed. 
 And let this Tyrant by my weapon bleed.'* 
 At once the twanging bow young £«a.ngo drew* 
 And hissing fierce the feather'd vengeance flew* 
 Nor flew the youthful Hero's shaft in vain, 
 Butpierc'd his nap and stung him to the brain. 
 As the huge Shark just hook'd and brought toland„ 
 Beats with his quiv'ring tail the yellow sand; 
 So writh'd the foe, and lash'd the bloody ground, 
 While his life issued from the fatal wound. 
 Mondingo now, who ere the golden light, 
 Had rush'd impatient to commence the fight ; 
 Like vivid lightning quick attacks the foe, 
 jmpeird by grief, and strengthen^ by his woe. 
 -jHeaps fall on heaps, as to the war he leads, 
 And by his hand the lofty ruffian bleeds; 
 Tail Edwards, from his native home expel'd, 
 From his paternal cottage, where he dwel'd, 
 
AVENIA. 
 
 In peace, till banish'd by a scolding wife, 
 Hither he came and basely lost his life. 
 Swift thro* his jaws the vengeful weapon glides, 
 Pierces his tongue, his grinning teeth divides; 
 Prone on his face he falls, with hideous cries* 
 And in a foreign land death seals his eyes. 
 
 Confounded and dismayed they flee or fall, 
 Some seek the Ships and some for quarters call; 
 Some trembling fight, while others pant for breath, 
 And o'er the wounded stalks gigantic Death. 
 Onward he speeds, and gloomy as the night, 
 By deeds, not words, he animates the fight ; 
 Hawkins he seeks, while from his search he flies, 
 And guilty fear activity supplies: 
 As doth the hound the fearful iev'ret wind, 
 Or chase thro' woods obscure the trembling hind; 
 Now lost, now seen, they intercept his way, 
 And from the herd still turn the flying prey; 
 So fast and with such fears, the murd'rer flew, 
 Thus close and constant did the chief pursue. 
 And many a chief, and many a hero dies, 
 By fierce MondLigo's weapon as he flies.. 
 As warring winds in Sirius sultry reign, 
 From different quarters sweep the sandy plain; 
 On ev'ry side the dusty whirlwinds rise, 
 And the dry nelds are lifted to the skies; 
 
 r, 2 
 
£0 AVENIA. 
 
 Thus by despair, guilt, rage, together driv'n, 
 fly the red troops, and flying darken heaven. 
 Millar now fell beneath his thirsty dart, 
 Which pierc'd his satin vest and panting heart* 
 Brindley and Everhard his fate soon shar'd, 
 And from Mondingo met the death they fear'd. 
 But now his trembling host brave Lambert warms. 
 And by his eloquence inspires to arms, 
 And fiercely rushing on the sable band, 
 Drench'd with the natives' blood the thirsty land- 
 Mingo, Onoho, Bango, Pero fell, v 
 ^Beneath the dreadful vengeance of his steel: 
 Rank upon rank the Africans were slain, 
 And all their former victories were vain. 
 Meanwhile Louverture at a distance fought, 
 Nor once of Lambert's conquest had he thought; 
 jje and Mondingo, chiefs of matchless might, 
 Were absent, the fierce bulwarks of the fight: 
 Lamlwrt still raging, spread the slaughter round, 
 And gasping warriors bite the bloody ground. 
 At one fierce charge three sable chiefs he slew, 
 And ten that moment from his presence flew; 
 The trembling Hawkins at a distance stood, 
 And saw the Hero bath£ in hostile blood: 
 On him, and him alone, the natives ran, 
 With all their darts, an army on a man. 
 Louvcrture, now arrived, beholds with woe, 
 The dreadful carnage of the Christian foe; 
 
dFENIA. 
 
 And while proud HavMns boasts and vaunts aloud, 
 
 He eyes another chief amidst the crowd> 
 
 And thus he cries, " Whoe'er thou art, remain, 
 
 This jav'lin, else shall fix thee to the plain^ 
 
 He said, and high in air the weapon cast, 
 
 Which whizzing errM, and o'er his shoulders passa, 
 
 Then fix'din earth. — against the quivering wood, 
 
 The foe stood prr>pp d, and trembled as he stood; 
 
 A sudden palsy siez'd his turning head, 
 
 His loose teeth chatter'd and his colour fled. 
 
 The raging prince appoach'd the dastard u*l } 
 
 And horrible high rising to the blow, 
 
 Cleft his proud head with a redoubled wound- 
 
 His batter'd brains fell smoking to the ground, 
 
 An iron sleep came low 'ring o'er his sight, 
 
 And wrapp'd the villain in a cloud of night. 
 
 Back thro' the cleaving ranks MondingoFAes, 
 
 That moment, swift as lightning thro' the s' 
 
 He calls his chief by name, exhorts the train, 
 
 And with his presence fires the host again: 
 Soon as the furious Hero came in view, 
 The dastard Hawkins from the combat flew, 
 Aw'd by no^frhame, by no reproach controul'd, 
 Busy in cruelty, in malice bold; 
 
 With witty envy studious to defame, 
 
 Lust all his joy, and money all his aim; 
 
 But chief he gloried with licentious style/, 
 
 To lash the good, religion to revilo) 
 
6 2 AVENIA. 
 
 Potent and rich, in factious councils skill'd, 
 Proud at the board, a dastard in the field; 
 His figure such as might his soul proclaim, 
 One eye was blinking and one leg was lame ; 
 His mountain shoulders half his breast o'erspread, 
 A long tail'd wig conceai'd his shaven head. 
 Spleen to mankind his treacherous heart possessed, 
 And much he hated all, iut most the best, 
 A hypocrite, a coward dead to fame, 
 Blood his delight, debauchery his theme. 
 The chief now foremost in the thickest war, 
 Harangues his men, dispels their anxious fear; 
 Clamours on clamours, tempest all the air, 
 They shout, they whoop, and thicken to the war 
 First falls fierce Picket at his squadron's head, 
 The chief was cruel, and the men he led; 
 The hero wields his sword, the head divides, 
 The visage parted, fell on equal sides. 
 His soul he trampled out, his body tore, 
 And stain'd the verdure with no vulgar gore. 
 High o'er the scene of death Mondingo stood, 
 All grim with dust, and brains and clotted blood; 
 He sees young Lambert, with his flaming eyes, 
 And in an instant in pursuit he flies; 
 Lambert beholds fhis terror of the plain, 
 Consents to fly, nor heeds the voice of fame: 
 Then first the youthful warrior's breast knew fear, 
 Even then he paused amidst his full career- 
 
AVENIA. 63 
 
 As turns the Lion from the nightly fold,- 
 Tho* high in courage and with hunger bold, 
 When galhi by herdsmen, and long vex'd by hounds, 
 Stiff with fatigue and fretted sore with wounds, 
 Till late reluctant at the dawn of day, 
 Sour he departs, and quits the untasted prey: 
 So mov'd fair Lambert from his dang'rous place, 
 With weary limbs, but with unwilling pace ; 
 When on the left his valiant Sire he found, 
 Cheering his men and spreading death around. 
 Mondingo saw, and furious at the sight, 
 Rush'd terrible amidst the thickest fight. 
 Lambert retreats, but with a tardy pace, 
 Tho* the fierce chieftain thunders in his face; 
 As when with tilted spears the clam'rous train^ 
 Invade the brindled monarch of the plain, 
 The lordly savage from the shouting foe, 
 Retires majestically stern and slow; 
 Tho* singly impotent the crowd to dare, 
 Repel or stand their whole collected war, 
 Grim he looks back, he rolls his glaring eye, 
 Despairs to conquer, and disdains to fly- 
 So Lambert paused and by degrees retir'd, 
 While shame, disdain and rage the hero frVd. 
 Retiring yet his whistling lance he threw, 
 Swift to the mark the faithful weapon flew; 
 Whose forky point the brave Rtssongo tore 
 Deep pierc'd his arm, sud drank the spouting gore. 
 
 H 
 
64 VENIA. 
 
 And now the wounded chief, his foe addresvd, 
 The purple current wandering o'er his breast, 
 But first embrac'd his knees and tried with art, 
 To move his tender sympathetic heart: 
 " By thy great father's love thy suppliant spare* 
 By all the hopes of his intrepid heir, 
 Preserve, victorious chief, this life alone, 
 To glad a living father and a son; 
 High in his hut, are bars of silver roll'd, 
 With heaps of golden dust and labourd goldj 
 These to procure my ransom, hell resign; 
 The war depends not on a life like mine: 
 But one poor life can no such difference yield. 
 Nor turn the mighty baUance of the field. 
 He touch'd the hero with his tale of woe, 
 Mov'd his kind heart, while tears began to rlo 
 And instant he relea&'d his panting toe. 
 Meanwhile young Lango on the distant plain, 
 Sent feather'd deaths among the Christian train; 
 Twelve poison s d arrows from his bow had fled, 
 And by their points, twelve officers lay dead, 
 When the great Willmore, Lambert's noble sire.. 
 Beheld the youth and his determin'd fire; 
 
 " Soldiers forbear, nor touch my due, (he cries 
 For gallant Langoxs your gen'ral's' prize; 
 To me, to me, belongs the envy'd fight, 
 Oh that his sire could view the pleasing sin 
 
 - 1 
 
Thou, Lambert, thou young Langos amis shall bear, 
 
 A lasting trophy of my deeds in war.*' 
 
 He said, and at the word the Christian train 
 
 Retir'd at once, and left an open plain; 
 
 The youth with wonder saw the parting band, 
 
 Heard the proud challenge and the stern command. 
 
 Then view'd his limbs, and his gigantic size, 
 
 And to his haughty foe in brief replies ; 
 
 ° Now, by thy glittering spoil I shall acquire, 
 Immortal fame, or gloriously expire, 
 Then vaunt no more, for know, Almighty jove, 
 Beholds the fight, impartial from above, 
 The strength you boast from him alone is giv'n, 
 And know proud chief, my fate depends on heaven: 
 To thee presumptuous, as to me, unknown, 
 Or what must prove thy fortune or my own; 
 But know, whatever fate I am to try, 
 By no dishonest wound shall Lango die. 
 I shall not fall a fugitive at least, 
 My soul shall bravely issue at my breast*" 
 Thus Lango spake, and from his spangled sheath, 
 Diew forth a feather'd messenger of death; 
 Fierce he surveys the foe, the bow he bends 
 To the full stretch, and joins the double ends, 
 One hand approach'd the point, one drew the bow, 
 And to his breast strain'd the tough nerve belo' 
 At once the whizzing featheiM vengance files, 
 And fiercely 
 
66 AVENIA. 
 
 Fierc'd through the hat, and bore the wig away, 
 
 Then on the crimson'd ground it harmless lay. 
 
 His glittering sword then from its sheath he drew- 
 
 And all collected on the tyrant flew; 
 
 And graz'd the shoulder of the haaghty foe. 
 
 Willmore then shook his lance, prepared to throw? 
 
 And as he shook it, U see, (he cried) if mine 
 
 Reach not the mark, a surer dart than thine." 
 
 Fierce and sonorous flew the fatal dart, 
 
 Pierc'd his young breast and lodgM within his heart 
 
 His lab'ring heart heaves with so strong a bound 5 
 
 The long lance shakes and vibrates in the wound- 
 
 The lovely youth lay grim with dust and blood 
 
 The soul came rushing with the purple flood, 
 
 "Winging to long eternity its way; 
 
 And left its beauteous tenement of clay, 
 
 The thronging Christians view with wondering eye; 
 
 His matchless beauty, and proportioned size; 
 
 And as in death the youth extended lay, 
 
 They iopp'd his head and quivering limbs away 
 
 Proud Willmore strode triumphant o'er the dead 
 
 And to the sable chieftains thus he said; 
 
 " Go, be this message to your monarch known 
 Such as the sire deserves, I send the son 
 UnbruVd, unsought, his relics I bestow, 
 If funeral honours can relieve his woe." 
 His belt he now beheld f a glorious prey 
 
' ENIA. 
 
 And tore it from his mangled corpse away. 
 In this rich belt with golden dust inlaid, 
 Her utmost art his mother had display'd. 
 The spoil proud Willmore views with joyful e,yes i 
 He wears and glories in the glittering prize, 
 Vain man too haughty in a prosprous state, 
 Grows blind and heedless of his future fate; 
 The time will come when Willmore in dismay 
 Shall mourn these spoils and this triumphant day. 
 His eyes shall shed for what he proudly bears, 
 And for young Lango's blood, a sea of tears ; 
 Shall wish too late, the golden belt unsought, 
 And curse the trophies he so dearly bought. 
 Now had Lowcerture on the bloody plain, 
 Fought three fierce squadrons of the Christian trains 
 Their chiefs he slaughter'd, and their ranks he tore, 
 And dy'd his vengeful jav'lin in their gore* 
 Here haughty Cosgrove fell* The dart was flung, 
 Where the knit nerves the pliant elbow strung ; 
 Then on his neck the glittering falchion sped, 
 And from his spangled shoulders lopp'd his head. 
 Now to Louxerture the sad tidings came, 
 That gallant Lango in the fight was slain ; 
 *VVith his huge trusty spear, without delay, 
 Through bleeding ranks he clears an ample way. 
 As when a torrent swell'd with wintry rains, 
 Pours from the mountains o'er delug'd plains » 
 
68 AVENIA. 
 
 And pines, and oaks, from their foundation torn, 
 
 A country's ruins, to the sea are borne ; 
 
 Louverture thus o'er whelms the yielding throng, 
 
 Soldiers and generals roll in heaps along. 
 
 Thee, Wilhnore, thee he seeks through all true plain, 
 
 Proud of the spoils of hapless Lango slain. 
 
 He rush'd impetuous where his brother lay, 
 
 While the base foe affrighted, flee away; 
 
 With grief fraternal bending down his head, 
 
 He pours his sorrows o'er his brother dead. 
 
 His frantic mother too, in wild despair, 
 
 Nor heeds the spear, nor dangers of the war, 
 
 And as through cleaving ranks with shrieks she flier, 
 
 Thus with unutterable grief she cries : 
 
 " And do I see thee thus, my darling boy, 
 Thy father's comfort, and thy mother's joy? 
 Why didst thou fly, my son midst wars alarms, 
 To certain death from thy fond parent's arms? 
 A prey to beasts thy head and body lies, 
 And ev'ry bird that wings the azure skies ; 
 Nor did thy mother close thine eyes in death, 
 Compose thy limbs, nor catch thy parting breath; 
 Nor bathe thy wounds, nor cleanse away thy gore; 
 Nor throw the rich, the beauteous mantle o'er, 
 The work which charm'd the cares of age away, 
 My task at night, my labour through the day. 
 How on thy face these ravish'd eyes I fed, 
 
AVEN1A. 69 
 
 How oft embrac'd but ah ! my Lango's dead ! 
 
 Ye bloody foes who slaughter'd my dear boy, 
 Hither, a poor abandon'd wretch destroy ; 
 Here, here, direct in pity every dart, 
 Plant ev'ry jav'lin in this breaking heart- 
 Life has no joys for me, haste, let me go, 
 This moment to my lovely boy below, 
 That there I may behold my murder'd boy 
 Far from the Christian's rage in endless joy - 
 Strike, and I'll bless the stroke that sets me free, 
 'Tis ease, 'tis mercy to a wretch like me." 
 Lowcerture now sustains a manlier part, 
 And mourns his brother with a warrior's heart, 
 His aged mother with a weeping train, -* 
 
 Collects his members on the bloody plain, 
 And slow conveys them to the town again. -* 
 Loud shriek the matrons when the corpse appears* 
 And the whole town is melted into tears. 
 The feeble monarch, sees his people's fright, 
 Beholds the corpse and sickens at the sight ; 
 He hears the Christians breathe revenge end war, 
 He hears his chieftains shouting from afar. 
 O'ercome, the languid powers of life decay, 
 He trembles, falls and falling swoons away. 
 At length recover'd, to his son he flew, 
 And to his breast the mangled body drew ; 
 Hound tears pour down amain, u and oh," he cries* 
 
70 AVENIA. 
 
 Tears stop his words and drown his aged eyes, 
 
 NW all collected he attempts to say, 
 
 What anguish dictates, but few words find way. 
 
 " Is this thy promise then, my son, with care, 
 To shun the fight, nor mingle in the war? 
 Thus must thy glory end, but just begun? 
 Would, I had died for thee, for thee, my son ! 
 The years of haughty Willmore had he ran, 
 Till age confirmed the hero in the man, 
 Willmore had stood conspicuous to the sight, 
 The most distinguished trophy of the fight. 
 But why with grief have I so long withheld, 
 Wretch that I am, the chiefcains from the field- 
 Go tell Lowoerture to avenge the dead, 
 On his base murderer Willmore 9 s guilty head; 
 'Tis all he now can to his father give, 
 'Tis for this only I endure to live." 
 Loiwerture hears his royal sire's command, 
 And hastes to battle with his conquering band ; 
 Soon as proud Willmore the fierce prince beheld, 
 From a high mound, approaching o'er the field, 
 Him and his troops a general fear confounds, 
 They shuddVing hear the shrill advancing sounds* 
 The sable sqaudrons wedg'd in close aray, 
 In one firm body cut their desperate way, 
 v 0n Willmore now Lou vert urb calls aloud, 
 
 o fight arc! hunts him in the bloody crowd- 
 
 
AVENIA. 71 
 
 Now here, now there, the foe appears in sight, , 
 And now he turns him from the fatal fight. 
 When long the prince his cowardice had view'd, 
 (For still the tyrant fled as he pursued,) 
 No more he follow'd thro* the thickening fight, 
 But cried aloud, <* Escape thou wretch by flight. 
 Hide thee inglorious, but for thee this day, 
 Whole hecatombs of Christian ghosts shall pay.'* 
 Rushing amidst the warrior train— no bound, 
 His vengeance knew, but spread the slaughter round. 
 
 reacherous foes he thinks it vain to spare, 
 Fir'd with his rage, he gives a loose to war. 
 Now crowds of tyrants perish on the plain, 
 By sable chiefs and great Louverturs slain ; 
 Here proud imperious Alexander falls, 
 And shrieks with fear, and loud for mercy calls.; 
 
 rst slightly wounded by the whizzing dart, 
 His sword he dropped to mitigate the smart, 
 His hand he quickly to the wound applied^ 
 And a keen arrow nail'd it to his side. 
 Swift thiV the wound it cut an ample way, 
 In dust and blood the glittering coward lay. 
 . on and Vineyard next were doom'd to feel, 
 
 The vengeful fury of his flying steel, 
 
 Mondingo from this scene of slaughter far, 
 Raged on the left, and rul'd the horrid war, 
 The woeful tidings to the her<- -ame, 
 Of Lango his brave younger Brother slain, 
 
 H2 
 
n AVENIA, 
 
 His grief impels him furious on the foe, 
 While from his eyes the silent sorrows flow. 
 The Christians now and sable squadrons wage* 
 A horrid war with undistinguished rage; 
 Here great Mondingo sweeps the fields, and there 
 Storms beauteous Lambert, the renown'd in war. 
 JsTo stop, no check the mighty heroes knew, 
 Still with their toils their kindling ardour grew* 
 As the bold hunter cheers his hounds to tear. 
 The brindled Lion, or the tusky Bear; 
 With voice and hands provokes their doubting hearts 
 And springs the foremost with his lifted dart : 
 So gallant 'Lambert prompts his men to dare, 
 Nor prompts alone, but leads himself the war* 
 And now Louvexture saw his foe from far, 
 Safe midst the ranks, and glittering thro' the war, 
 Array'd in scarlet, fringed with flowVs of gold, 
 With epulels all beauteous to behold; 
 He towr'd aloft with more than mortal pride, 
 His son the charming Lambert by his side. 
 The blooming son, illustrious virtues grace, 
 By birth as gen'rous as the sire as base. 
 A silken string constrains his clicks, that deck, 
 »n glossy flaxen curls his beauteous neck: 
 A U lov'd his person, all admired his parts, 
 Bfcth brave in arms, and well approv'd in arts* 
 When Willmores son harrangued the list'ning train; 
 Justwas his sense, and his expression plain. 
 
AVE MA. 
 
 His words succinct, yet full without a fault, 
 He spake no more than just the thing he ought* 
 Whene'er he rose, in solemn thought profound, 
 His modest eyes, he fix'd upon the ground; 
 As one unskilled or dumb he seem'd to stand, 
 Nor rais'd his head, nor stretch'd his beauteous hand* 
 But when he speaks, what elocution flows, 
 Soft as the fleeces of descending snows! 
 The copious accents fall with easy art, 
 Melting they fall, and sink into the heart. 
 Wondring we hear, and fix'd in deep surprise 
 Our ears refute the censure of our eyes. 
 "Louverlure views the sire with stern delight, 
 His soul enkindles at the pleasing sight; 
 So joys a lion if the branching dee*, 
 Or mounting goat, his bulky prize, appear; 
 In vain the youths oppose, the mastiff's bay, 
 The Lordly Savage rends the panting prey. 
 Now to relieve his sire, with a fierce bound, 
 Lambert flies furious o'er the slippery ground. 
 Willmore the foe perceiv'd with fear and dread, 
 Saw him advance, and coward like he fled. 
 But with preventive speed Zouverture ran, 
 Turn'd short, and fore'd the combat, man to man; 
 Compell'd he stands, collected in his might, 
 Defies the generous ptince, and waits the fight* 
 Soon as he saw the sable chief advance, 
 thin due distance ©f the flying lancet 
 
74 AVENIA. 
 
 " Now, now my spear and conq'ringhand,(he cried> 
 For Willmore owns no deity beside y 
 Assist my vows, succeed ray martial toils, 
 And strip yon negro of his bloody spoils, 
 My noble Lambert his bright sword shall bear, 
 His golden belt, his quiver, and his spear/' 
 Thus said, his fate the vaunting chieftain tries, 
 Glancing oblique, his jav'iin erring flies ; 
 But in its dreadful course, tho' starting wide. 
 It lodg'd its thirsty point in Zimbo's side. 
 The prince invokes the sov'reign of the skies, 
 <f Avenge my honoured father's wrongs," he cries, 
 And with the words the hissing jav'lin flies. 
 It pierc'd his thigh, and there its fury staid, 
 The spouting blood the prince with joy survey'd; 
 Then from the sheath his flaming sword he drew, 
 And all collected on the ruffian flew. 
 -And now brave Lambert his illu'trious son, 
 Fears for his danger, and forgets his own; 
 Incumber'd with his spear now Willmore reel'd, 
 And tir'd, and slow, and pain'd, he quit the field, 
 His friends all busied in the cares of war, 
 Thro* haste or danger, had not drawn the spear. 
 Fierce sprang the son against the foe; no word 
 He spake, but rush'd beneath the threatning sword? 
 Strove to prevent the meditated blow, 
 And guard His bleeding father from the foe; 
 
AVENIA. 75 
 
 Now mov'd with pity the brave gen'rous man 
 Exhorts, and threats, and prays the youth in vain* 
 
 t( Whether to death, ah whither wouldst thou run, 
 And tempt a,n hand far mightier than thine own: 
 Imprudent Lambert, from the field remove, 
 Nor seek thy ruin, urg'd by filial love; 
 This gen'rouslove I honour and revere, 
 Ah, then depart, and listen to my prayer- 
 Depart in peace, nor tempt my dreadful ire, 
 Now, while thou may'st from certain death retire/ 
 He warns in vain, the thoughtless youth denes, 
 The prince, till all his wrath begins to rise" 
 " Then die" the hero cries, and at the word, 
 He wields and lifts aloft his vengeful sword, 
 And rising to the blow, with force applied, 
 The blade he buried in his milk white side; 
 The dress his Anna had embroider d o'er, 
 And his fair breast, was drench'd with purple gore. 
 The prince beholds the languid youth with woe, 
 And from his eyes the gen'rous torrents flow; 
 He seized his palsied hand and thus he said, 
 ,f To worth like thine what honours can be paid? 
 To future times thy matchless name shall live, 
 And ev'n thy foes to thee the praise shall give; 
 Lo, I restore thine arms, unhappy boy, 
 Thy spangled falchion, late thy only joy: 
 Yet, Lambert, ev'n in death be this thy pride, 
 Thou by tUe great Louvertwre's hand hast died- 
 
76 AVENIA. 
 
 Then round the corpse he call'd a gallant train, 
 And rais'd, himself, the body from the plain: 
 But ah! how chang'd, with blood disfigur'd o'er, 
 His snow white limbs all horrible with gore, 
 Stain'd were the circlets of his flaxen hair, 
 Which ev'n a princess might be proud to wear. 
 As the young olive in the sylvan scene, 
 CrownM by fresh fountains with unfading gretfn} 
 Lifts the gay head in snowy flowrets fair, 
 And plays and dances to the gentle air; 
 Soon as a whirlwind from high heav'n invades, 
 The tender plant, and rifles ail its shades f 
 It lies uprooted from its genial hed, 
 A lovely ruin how defac'd and dead: 
 Thus young, thus t>eautiful, brave Lambert lay, 
 His honours wither'd in lifes early day. 
 Meantime the sire had reach'd the shore, and there 
 Bath'd in the flood his wounds, in deep despair; 
 He groan'd and languished on the sandy shore, 
 And dry»d his sweat, and wash'd away the gore, 
 And paus'd, and panted, while the gentle gale, 
 Conveyd the freshness the cool seas exhale. 
 Against an oak the chief his head reclin'd, 
 And caught the enlivning freshness of the wind 5 
 When io! he saw approaching from afar, 
 His slaughter'd son, borne from the field of war. 
 Deep in his side he view'd the fatal wound, 
 And wUile hi? friends jtft&ndant mourn'd around, 
 
•I 
 
 AVENUU 
 
 In anguish tore his hair, and beat his breast, 
 And thus his mighty sorrows he express'd: 
 <*Have I then lost thee! oh my murder'd son, 
 Lost thy dear life, and basely sav'd my own? 
 In my defence would such a son expire, 
 A son like him for such a guilty sire? 
 Now, now I feel a weight of wo e, the smart 
 Of this dread wound lies raging at my heart, 
 On thy fair fame, my s®n, I left a stain, 
 My muchlov'd son, by fierce Louverture slain 
 Twas I who lur'd thee to this hostile plain. 
 Fierce rage succeeds, his choler swelling high, 
 The general rais*d him on his halting thigh, 
 Prop'd on his spear, and with his body bent, 
 Resolv'd on vengeance to the field he went; 
 Halting and slow the groaning tyrant past, 
 But aided by his spear, he reach 'd the plain at last. 
 Thrice on Louvertures name he called from far; 
 He heard the challenge, andprepar'd for war, 
 Leaving the ranks, he made his bold advance. 
 Fierce o'er the plain and shook his mighty lance. 
 And while the wounded chieftain hung his head, 
 The intrepid prince with noble order said: 
 
 u Why, at mine hands wilt thou thy ruin seek, 
 Inglorious chief, the cause this instant speak/* 
 
 «* And why (the chief replied) this vaunting strain 
 The father perish'd when the son was slain." 
 12 
 
5T8 AVENIA. 
 
 I come to die— but let me first bestow, 
 This parting present on the murdrous foe, 
 Then strike, and use thy present fortune, strike, 
 Death and the fabled god I scorn alike." 
 Swift as he spake, the vengeful dart he sped, 
 Which miss'd the mark, and onward singing fled. 
 «' Where now the vaunting strain, (Louverture cried,) 
 Of haughty Willmorel where his scornful pride?" 
 
 With complicated woe the chief replies, 
 And as he speaks, stares furious at the skies, 
 
 " Why, why, insulting foe, this waste of breath, 
 On one determined and resolv'd on death; j 
 With that one hope to battle did I fly, 
 And fought, far less to conquer, than to die, 
 But if a vanquished foe this grace may crave, 
 Ob'- let me find the refuge of a grave, 
 For well my guilt and folly have I known, 
 Then guard my corps, and lay me by my son. 
 Ah! grant this comfort ere I yield my breath, 
 To share his sweet society in death.'' 
 He strove to hide the anguish of his soul, 
 But down his cheeks the tears resistless stole* 
 
 The prince indignant whirld aloft in air, 
 His massy sword, and hewd away his ear 
 In pomp terrific now black furies stand, 
 Around the Atheist, waiting heaven's command; 
 Aghast he shakes and trembles with affright, 
 While all ■.'■: w native ^orrors blast his sight; 
 
AVENIA. 79 
 
 Such flaming fronts the sable demons spread, 
 So dreadful hiss'd red serpents round his head, 
 Stiff rose his hair, and lo, a copious stream, 
 Of deathly sweat ran down from every limb. 
 Fierce, and more fierce the gnashing furies rise, 
 And hell, all hell, now crpen'd on his eyes. « 
 
 " Earth, earth! (he cries) thy centre open throw*, 
 •And screen a sinner from impending woe.' v 
 Thus while he lay and agonizing shook, 
 Th* intrepid prince the general thus bespoke-* 
 
 " What methods, Wittmore, yet remain for flight^ 
 *Tis strength, not swiftness, must decide the fight; 
 Try all thy arts and vigour to escape, 
 Thy instant doom, and vary ev'ry shape, 
 Wish for the morning's rapid wings to fly, 
 Shoot down to hell, or vault into the sky.*' 
 " Not these insulting, empty vaunts I dread,^ 
 Replied the trembling chief,. and shook his heajd; 
 u Nay let the fear of GOD my bosom move, 
 Alone my greatest foe, Almighty Jove! 
 My crimes, my unbelief (the tyrant said,) 
 Have forced reluctant vengeance on my head.'* 
 He spake, atnd upward cast his glaring eyes, 
 Tow'rd the blue vault, and curs'd the azure skies. 
 The prince with indignation mark'd the part, 
 And aim'd his sword directly at his heart: 
 It loppM his arm, and plowed his ribs profound, 
 And stretch'd Jrim languid on the purple ground* 
 
*0 JVENIA* 
 
 His hands the vanquished tyrant faintly rear'd, 
 And to the chief this moving prayer preferr'd* 
 
 « Prince I deserve, not deprecate my death, 
 Then use thy fortune, take my forfeit breath, 
 Yet if a parent's tears move sympathy, 
 Think what thy father is and pity, me.'* 
 His melting tale the genrous warrior heard, 
 Repress'd his rage, and sheath'd his reeking sword, 
 His words and tears to mercy now inclin'd, 
 Still more and more, the victor's noble mind; 
 When lo! by chance the glittring belt he spied, 
 His brother's belt, still shining at his side. 
 Which from the bleeding youth the ruffian tore, 
 And the bright spangled prize in triumph wore; 
 His eyes fierce flaming o'er the trophy roll, 
 That wakes the slumbering vengeance in his soul, 
 Then in loud accents, and with dreadful look, 
 Stern and severe, the raging hero spoke: 
 
 " Thou wretch accurs'd, canst thou to grace pretend* 
 Clad in my brother's spoils, my murder'd friend ? 
 No, to th' unhappy who unjustly bleed, 
 Heav'n gives posterity to avenge the deed: 
 Haste then, appease my father's vengeance, go, 
 Go then, a victim to his son below, 
 'Tis Lango, Lango gives the righteous blow. 
 Thus is my sire aton'd." (the hero said) 
 And buried in his breast the thirsty blade. 
 
A groan that moment echo'd to the shore, 
 Another follow'd and he groan'd no more. 
 The soul, tho* long to the dull clay confin'd, 
 Unwilling leaves the spangled corpse behind; 
 Drag'd furious by the gnashing fiends away, 
 Thro' sable clouds far from the solar ray, 
 Loud and more loud the dreadful shrieks they hear. 
 As to the infernal regions they draw near. 
 A furnace formidable, deep and wide, 
 O'er boiling with a blue sulphureous tide, 
 Expand s its jaws terrific to survey, 
 And roars incessant for the destined prey. 
 And floods of sable smoke, and ruddy flame, 
 Burst out in volumes o'er the dark domain. 
 Here while the Atheist tastes eternal woe. 
 They plunge him flaming in the realms below 3 
 " As far beneath the infernal centre hurl'd, 
 As from that centre to th' aetherial world." 
 In words like these the captive soul complain?. 
 With all the eloquence of hellish pains: 
 
 " Ah, mercy, mercy, oh! indulgent Jove, 
 Is love extinguish'd, in the source of love? 
 Wretch that I am! did heaven stoop down to hell. 
 Th* expiring Lcrd of life my ransom seal? 
 Yet have I been industrious to provoke, 
 From my Redeemer's kind embraces broke, 
 Blasphem'd, and panted for his mortal hate, 
 Eam'd my darrmcuion, laboured out my fate. 
 K 
 
Annull'd his groans, as far as in me h 
 \nd flung his agonies and death away; 
 My voice, which was ordain'd on hymns to dv. 
 Once curs'd my GOD, now blows the flames of heU. 
 Just is my lot, but oh, must it transcend, 
 The reach of time, despair a distant end ? 
 And must my punishment be ever strong, 
 Aly conctitutjon too, for ever young? 
 Curs'd with returns of vigour still the same, 
 Pow'rful to bear, and satisfy the flame, 
 Wretch that I was to doubt heav'n's word divine-, -• 
 Nor think if truth dictated every line. > 
 
 What woe, what endles miseries were mine." 
 Lambert, the brave, and Wilhnore being slait> 
 The Christians flee in terror from the plam 
 The fierce Louverture rushing stern before, 
 lis chieftains follow, thundring to the shore; 
 Shout as they go, the distant forests rend* 
 And waves of moving troops his march attend 
 Full twenty stumbled as in haste they tied, 
 Their souls were trampled out, their bodies bled 
 As when from .gloomy clouds a whirlwind spring . 
 Bearing grim death upon its dreadful wings; 
 Wide o'er the blasted fields the tempest sweeps 
 Then gather'd, settles on the hoary deeps; 
 Th' affected deeps tumultuous mix anfl roar. 
 The waves behind burst on the waves before, 
 WiJe rolling-, foaming high, & tumbling to the sh 
 
AVE N Id, 8 
 
 Then, in the tumult wedg'd witU terror rushM, 
 On their own swords, by their own soldiers crush/d;. 
 Sonne drove headforemost in the sands, and there 
 Their heads stood fix'd, their quivring legs in air„ 
 Till trampled flat beneath the soldier's feet, 
 As they rush'd panting to the painted fleet, 
 JLouvertures fierce approach they think they hear, 
 In every wind, and ev'ry moment fear: 
 He like a fury toss'd the scattering throng* 
 Drove heaps on heaps of trembling foes along. 
 So flees a herd of cows that hear dismayed, 
 The lion's roaring through the midnight shade, 
 On heaps .they tumble with successless haste, 
 The savage seizes, draws, and rends the last, 
 
 But now, the prince beholds far on the sea, 
 Full twenty ships direct their watery w r ay; 
 Straight for the shore the tilting vessels stand, 
 Then fuirl their sails and anchor near the land, 
 Each held full forty troops, a cruel train, 
 And each prepar'd to scour the ill fated plain. 
 And while the sight the sable host appals, 
 The vanquished robbers gain their wox>den walls. 
 
 Now whirling down the skies, the purple day ; 
 Shot thro' the western clouds a dewy ray, 
 Imperial Sol, hid his refulgent light, 
 Then rose majestic, Cynthia, Queen of night: 
 Wide o'er the mighty globe with pomp she dreW; 
 Her silver chariot hung with pearly dew. 
 
fc'd,^ 
 
 9 
 84 AVENIA. 
 
 Ail night in arms each valiant warrior iay ; 
 
 Forgetful of the past or coming day, 
 
 All but the prince with anxious thoughts oppreSS'di 
 
 His father's cares revolving in his breast! 
 
 Sighs following sighs, his inward grief confess'd 
 Now o'er the fields dejected he surveys, 
 
 From fifty ships as many fires blaze; 
 A nd looking forward to the fleet and coast, 
 Anxious he sorrows for his father's host: 
 Inward he groans, while duty and despair, 
 
 Divide his heart, and wage a doubtful war. 
 And while a thousand cares his breast revolves 
 To seek sage ^uaco now the chief resolves; 
 With him in wholesome council to debate, 
 What yet remain'd to save th* afflicted state^ 
 He rose, and straitway cast his mantle rounds 
 Next on his feet in haste his sandals bound 5 
 A lion's yellow skin his back conceal'd, 
 His warlike hand a fainted jav'Hn hekU 
 
 
AVENIA. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
>1»5*» 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 MONDINGO leaves his couch in pursuit of his brother — their 
 interview— LOUVERTURE'S generous treatment of HAW- 
 KINS* son— Council of the chiefs— MOND1NGO and SAM- 
 BO before daylight reconnoitre the foe—'-A reinforcemen of 
 the Christians land — Some of the neighbouring blacks are 
 bought over by the Christians as allies—The chiefs resolve 
 on victory or death — Battle commences, LOUVERTURE 
 proves victorious, bvit is slain by stratagem. 
 
AVENIA. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 MEANWHILE Mondingo pressed with equal wcer, 
 Alike refus'd the gift of soft repose; 
 Wept for his sire, who for his son before, 
 So much had suffer,d, yet to suffer more ; 
 A panther's spoils he round his shoulder spread^ 
 The sharp white teeth grinn'd horrid at his head 
 He grasp'd his jav'lin in his hand, and ran 
 To meet his brother, and he thus began. 
 
 " Why wakes Louverture midst these silent hours' 
 Sends he some spy to watch the Christian powers I 
 But say, what warrior shall sustain the task ? 
 Such bold exploits uncommon courage ask, 
 Guideless, alone, through night's dark shades to go. 
 And from the hostile shore explore the foe/' 
 To whom the prince. " In such distress we stand, 
 I see this moment all our cares demand; 
 Our all to save is now no easy part, 
 But asks high wisdom, policy and art; 
 Then speed thy hasty course along the plain, 
 e no delay, but all our chiefs convene, 
 
88 AVENIA* 
 
 Myself to hoary Qjjaco shall repair, 
 
 To keep the guard on duty be thy care." 
 
 To whom Mondingo, " these thy orders borne. 
 
 Say, shall I stay or with despatch return." 
 
 " There shalt thou stay, (the mournful prince replied) 
 
 Else we may miss to meet without a guide, 
 
 Still with thy voice the slothful warriors raise, 
 
 Urge by their fathers' fame, their future praise. 
 
 Forget this night thy state and lofty birth, 
 
 Now works, and works alone, must prove thy worth'* 
 
 This said, each parted to his several cares, 
 
 The prince to Qjjaco instantly repairs ; 
 
 And as he moves among the heaps of dead, 
 
 Where late the frighted Christians wounded fled, 
 
 He hears a groan, and as he hears he stands, 
 
 And grasps his sword and jav'lin in his hands. 
 
 There lay in gore the cruel Hawkins* son, 
 
 Large drops of sweat from all his members run. 
 
 An arrow's head still rooted in his wound, 
 
 The crimson blood in circles mark'd the ground. 
 
 jVXov'd with soft pity at the Christian's woe, 
 
 Loumerture in the man forgets the foe. 
 
 cc Ah! hapless man" he cries, < c where now thy boast? 
 
 Thus must thou perish on a foreign coast? 
 
 Is this thy fate, to glut the beasts with gore, 
 
 Far from thy friends and from thy native shore } 
 
 Unhappy man, doom'd thus to ^ie in sharn? 
 
AVENU. 89 
 
 Thus end the period of thy life and fame! 
 But since 'tis so, what now remains to do ? 
 Th* event of things great Jove alone can view; 
 Charg'd with my country's good, with speed I fly. 
 For lo ! the cruel enemy is nigh, 
 But thy distress this instant claims relief,'* 
 He said and in his arms uprais'd the chief; 
 His guards the prince's slow approach survey'd, 
 And on the ground a lion's hide they spread ; 
 There stretch'd at length the wounded chieftain lay, 
 While good Louverture cut the steel away : 
 In his kind hand a bitter root he bruis'd, 
 The wound he suck'd, the styptic juice infus'd; 
 
 closing flesh that instant ceas'd to glow, 
 The wound to torture, and the blood to flow. 
 Then to the guards the godlike hero said : 
 * ; While now 1 haste beyond those heaps of dead, 
 To meet our chieftains near the silent wood, 
 Nourish the wounded man with wine and food ; 
 What for yourselves you'd wish, for him provide* 
 None other rule has Jove impos'd beside, 
 The wretched and the poor by heav'n are sent, 
 To prove us men, relent then guards, relent. 
 What for ourselves we need, is always ours, 
 This night let due repast refresh his powers ; 
 With tepid water wash his gore away, 
 With healing balms his raging sman allay ; 
 
 K 2 
 
90 AVENIA. 
 
 And thou poor Christian, thus o'erpowr'd with woe, 
 Thy anxious cares that nourish grief, forego; 
 SteepM in thy blood, and in the dust outspread, 
 Neglected hadst thou lain on piles of dead, 
 None to weep o'er thee, to relieve thee none, 
 Had we like Christians, hearts of flinty stone ! 
 Since Jove impels us thus our grace to give, 
 Then share our bounty and consent to live : 
 Ye guards, relieve him, till the god of day, -^ 
 
 Strikes the blue mountains with his golden ray/' > 
 The hero said, and strode in haste away, -* 
 
 The anxious chief the aged Qjjaco found 
 Stretch'd on a lion's hide, his men around : 
 And leaning on his hand his watchful head, 
 The hoary warrior rubb'd his eyes and said; 
 
 •' Who art thou speak, that on designs unknown, 
 While others sleep thus range the fields alone, 
 Seek'st thou some friend or nightly sentinel? 
 Stand off, approach not, but thy purpose tell " 
 
 " Ah, rev'rend Quaco (thus the prince rejoin'd) 
 Pride of my sire, and glory of thy kind, 
 Lo! here the wretched prince I^ouveiture stands 
 Th' unhappy leader of my father's bands; 
 Scarce can his knees his trembling frame sustain, 
 Scarce can his heart support its load of pain ; 
 No taste of sleep my heavy eyes have known, 
 For him I sadly wander thus alone; 
 
AVENIA. 
 
 With fears distracted, with no nVd design* 
 
 And all his people's miseries are mine. 
 
 If aught of use thy waking thoughts suggest. 
 
 Since cares like mine deprive my soul of rest; 
 
 Impart thy counsel and assist thy friend, 
 
 And let us jointly to our chiefs descend, 
 
 At ev'ry post the fainting guards excite, 
 
 Tir'd with the toils of dav, and watch of »ight$ 
 
 Else may the sudden fee our towns invade; 
 
 So near, and favour'd by the midnight shade." 
 
 Thus Quaco answer'd, u Trust the powers above, 
 Nor think proud Hawkins* hope confirmed by Jove? 
 He sees our sov'reign's wrongs, our misery, 
 He sees but not without kind sympathy: 
 How ill agree the views of vain mankind, 
 With the wise counsels of the Eternal Mind ? 
 Lo ! faithful Quaco thy command obeys, 
 Thy care be next, our other chiefs to raise. 
 To rouse Mondi?igo I myself decree, 
 Dear as he is to us and dear to thee i 
 Yet must I tax his sloth, that claims no share 
 W 7 ith his great brother in the general care." 
 To whom the prince. " With reverence we allow 
 
 Thy just reproofs, yet learn to spare them now; 
 
 My generous brother is of gentler kind, 
 
 He seems remiss, but bears a valiant mind; 
 
 Through too much deference to his brother's sway, 
 t 
 
92 AVENIA. 
 
 Content to follow when he leads the way. 
 Early this night he sought me thro' the plain. 
 And now convenes our chiefs of ancient fame. ,;r 
 The lion's skin the sage, then round him spread, 
 The teeth grinn'd dreadful on his hoary head; 
 Marching with caution thro' the sleeping croud, 
 They stopp'd where Kimbo slept, and caird aloud. 
 Fierce Kimbo, sudden as the voice was sent, 
 Starting, awak'd, and to the heroes went: 
 
 " What new distress, what sudden cause of fright,, 
 Thus leads you wandring thro* the shades of night? rr 
 
 " Oh! valiant chief, (the prudent sage reply'd,) 
 Brave as thou art, be now thy valour tried; 
 Whatever means of safety can be sought, 
 Whatever connciis can inspire our though t 
 Whatever methods, or to fly, or fight, 
 All, all depend on this important night. v 
 He heard, returned, and took his trusty spear, 
 Then fo'm'd the chiefs, and follow'd void of fear 
 They now approach'd a chief of glorious fame, 
 Mondzngo's uncle, Sambo was his name, 
 A grove of spears, around him fix'd upright, 
 Shot from their deathful points a quivYmg light 
 A bear's black hide composed the warrior's bed r 
 A wolf's grey spoils was roll'd beneath his head". 
 Now with his foot, old %uaco gently shakes, 
 The slumbering chief,. and ^ these words, awakes^ 
 
AVENIA. 93 
 
 *« Rise, valiant Sambo, to the bold and strong, 
 Rest seems inglorious, and the night too long; 
 But sleep'st thou now, when from you ships the foe, 
 Threaten out \ ition with impending woe?" 
 The hero heard, and sudden rais'd his h,ead, 
 That moment slumber from his eyelids fled, 
 The warrior haii'd the hoary chief, and said.* 
 u Wond'rous old man, whose soul no respite knows, 
 Tho' years and honours bid thee seek repose; 
 Let younger chiefs our sleeping warriors wake, 
 III fits thy age this toil to undertake. 
 
 •■ My friend (he answer'd) generous is thy care, 
 These toils young heroes, and my sons, should bears 
 Their tender thoughts and pious love conspire. 
 To ease a chieftain and relieve a sire. 
 But now, alas! despair surrounds our host, 
 No hour must pass, no moment must be lost, 
 Each single chief, in this conclusive strife, 
 Stands on the sharpest edge of death or life * 
 Yet if my years thy kind regard engage, 
 Employ thy youth as I employ my age, 
 Succeed to these my cares, and rouse the rest, 
 He serves me most, who serves his country best." 
 He spake. The chieftain o'er his shoulders flung* , 
 A leopard's spoils, that to his ancles hung, 
 Then grasp'd his sword, and lance and strode along, 
 And now they all approach the distant guard, 
 Brave wakeful heroes, each in arms prepaid, 
 
9 4 AVEN1A. 
 
 The if atch unwearied, and all Kstning, keep 
 A sharp look out, nor heed invading sleep. 
 The prince with joy the watchful band surveyed, 
 And thus address'd them thro' the gloomy shade : 
 
 " Tis well brave men, your nightly cares employ. 
 Neglect must prove our fall, the town destroy, 
 "Watch thus and we shall live. 1 * The hero said, 
 And o'er the plain the anxious chieftains led; 
 And now they pass'd thro c piles of dead around. 
 And in sad state the solemn council crown'd" 
 A field there was, not stain'd with human gore, 
 Where fierce Louverture stopp'd his rage before, 
 When night descending, from his vengeful hand, 
 Repreiv'd the relics of the Christian band; 
 ThSre stood the mournful chiefs when Zan$c?s son, 
 yhe council op'ning, in these words begun: 
 
 «* Is there amongst us one so greatly brave , 
 His life to hazard and his country save? 
 Is there a chief who singly dares to go, 
 To' yondey shore, and seize some straggling foe-} 
 Or favour'd by the night, approach so near, 
 Their speech, their councils, and designs to hear, 
 Spy yonder fleet, a bold discovery make, 
 What watch they keep, and what resolves they take, 
 If now subdued they meditate their flight, 
 And spent with toil neglect the watch of night. 
 If to destroy our town they now prepare, 
 Our fields once^nore rn.us.t be the seat of w^\ 
 
AVI 
 
 s* 
 
 This could he learn, and to our chiefs recite, 
 
 And pass unharm'd the dangers of the night, 
 
 What fame were his thro* all succeeding days, 
 
 While Phoebus shines, or men have tongues to praise. 
 
 W.feat gifts his grateful country would bestow, 
 
 What must not we to our deliverer owe! 
 
 He who is boldest, speak, nor be afraid, 
 
 To. birth or office no respect be paid; 
 
 Let worth determine here." The hero spake, 
 
 And inly shudder'd for his brother's sake r 
 
 As when a general darkness vails the main, 
 
 The mild winds curling the wide wat'ry plain, 
 
 The waves scarce heave, the face of ocean sleeps, 
 
 And a still horror saddens all the deeps; 
 
 Thus heard the chiefs, and shudder'd at the sound, 
 
 Propp'd on their spears and standing mute around, 
 
 Fear held them mute. Alone, untaught to fear, 
 
 lingo spake; M The man you seek is here; 
 Tow'rd yon black fleet to bend my dangerous way, 
 *Tis Jove commands — and promptly I obey, 
 Bnt let some other chosen warrior join, 
 To raise my hopes and second my designs 
 By mutual confidence and mutual aid, 
 Great deeds are done and great discoveries made, 
 The wise new wisdom from the wise acquire, 
 And one brave hero fans another's fire." 
 Contending chieftains at the word arise*. 
 And each fo^r glory with the other vie 
 L2 
 
9 6 AVE MA* 
 
 S,o brave a post each warrior strives to gain, 
 But most great Sambo strives— nor yet in vain. 
 Then thus the Prince in brief the contest endsj 
 
 "Thou first of warriors, and thou best of Friends, 
 The brave Mondingo in this cause to join, 
 This ardous enterprize, be only thine. 
 The prince invincible^ in brief replied; 
 * € My choice demands no other aid beside, 
 How can I doubt when mighty Sambo stands, 
 To lend his counsel and assist our hands'. 
 A chief whose safety is the Spirit's care, 
 So fam'd, so dreadful in the works of war; 
 Blest in his conduct what can I desire! 
 Wisdom like his might pass thro' flames of fire/' 
 
 " It fits thee not, before these chiefs of fame, 
 (Replied the Sage) to praise me or to blame; 
 Praise from a friend, or censure from a foe* 
 Are lost on hearers that our merits know; 
 But let us haste, night rolls the hours away, 
 Theredd'ning orient speaks the coming day: 
 The stars shine fainter in the ethereal plains, 
 And of night's empire but a third remains." 
 Thus having spoke, with noble ardor press'd, 
 To explore the distant shore the heroes haste, 
 A two- edg'd falchion, Louverture the brave, 
 With poison'd arrows, to his brother gave. 
 The furious Sambo took a well-tried sword, 
 A bpvv, and quiver wtfh sharp arrows stor'd; 
 
AVENIA. 97 
 
 And now, thus arm'd, the council they forsake, 
 And dark, thro* paths oblique, their course they take, 
 As thus they slowly mov'd Mondingo pray'd, 
 To heav'n, and thns the filial hero said: 
 
 " Thou Spirit, ever present in my ways; 
 Who all my motions, all my toils surveys, 
 Sfife may we pass beneath the gloomy shade, 
 Safe by thy succour to the shores convey d* 
 And let some deed this signal night adorn, 
 To claim the tears of Christians yet unborn* 
 Avenge my country's wrongs, the hero said, 
 And march'd undaunted o'er the heaps of dead, 
 Fix'd and resolv'd, the tyrants to explore, 
 
 They seek the winding of the distant shore;; 
 Approach the ships, and lo! amaz'd they see 
 Full fifty boats landing tke enemy; 
 Thousands already marching on the shore., 
 And still the boats employed in landing more; 
 Now quick retreating, from the awful sight, 
 They leave the beach before the approaching light. 
 
 Meantime an army from the distant plain, 
 Of natives, allies for the thirst of gain, 
 Approach the shore; the Christian's arts succeed; 
 Now first the natives by the natives bleed. 
 Toward the ships they be*d their shameful way, 
 And on the left the panting chiefs survey* 
 'Tis for some base design these men appear, 
 Declare (they cry) from whence, and who you are, 
 
m , AVENIA. 
 
 What moves you say when sleep should close the sight, 
 To roam the silent fields in dead of night? 
 Perhaps some foes, by hopes of plunder, led 
 Thro* heaps of carnage to despoil the dead." 
 Nought they reply, but take their instant flight, 
 To the thick forest thro! the gloom of night, 
 And haste to meet the warriors on the plain, 
 To join the council and respire again. 
 JLonverture saw them first; forth from his breast, 
 He heav'd a sigh, and thus the chiefs address'd; 
 
 " Ah! hapless leaders of our warlike host. 
 Your visage tells us, all our hopes are lost. 
 Say, great Mondlngo % shall we bravely stand, 
 Resist the Christians and proud Hawkins hand, 
 Or are our heroes doom'd to die in shame, 
 And this the period of our wars and fame." 
 
 " No more, my honoured brother, and my friend, 
 (Replied Mo?idingo t ) here our glories end. 
 For lo, ev'n now a host of foes they land, 
 Nay, hosts already march the yellow sand. 
 A sable army from the distant plain, 
 Our neighbours join them for the thirst of gain." 
 Mondingo ceas'd; when with a murmuring groan, 
 And long, loud sighs, each warrior made his moan. 
 With new-born courage brave Louverture broke, 
 The general murmurs, and undaunted spoke: 
 
AVLN1A. 
 
 * Chieftains, be bold, before the op'ning day, 
 •U gild the mountains with a purple ray, 
 -ach brave chief his panting troops inspire, 
 
 And with new ardour by example fire. 
 So shall our arms with just success be crown'd, 
 And our proud foes lie panting on the ground; 
 We'll charge them home, nor will we charge in vain, 
 But fight or fall, a firm embodied train; 
 Him whom the fortune of the field shall cast, 
 Dead on the plain, the next succeed in haste,* 
 Our great forefathers held this prudent course, 
 This rais'd their ardour, this preserv'd their force. 
 Remember chieftains, on this signal day, 
 The fates of all our sires and infants lay; 
 And we must fight the foe or hence retire. 
 Till Congo blazes with their hostile fire. 
 Thus spake the prince; fierce shout the sable train, 
 And with one voice return him loud acclaim. 
 The morning star now with a golden ray, 
 Flam'd in the front of heav'n and promised day ; , 
 
 When Sifoan, brave Louverture's tender spouse. 
 Rose from her couch, and silent left her house. 
 Close to her breast she held her charming boy, 
 The mother's comfort, and the father's joy, 
 
 Pensive she climb'd a mountain's tow'ry height, 
 
 Beheld the foe preparing for the fight. 
 
 But yet she saw not whom her soul desirM, 
 
 Whase virtue charm'd her, as his valour fir'd, 
 M 
 
100 AVENH. 
 
 Along the plain her trembling steps she ben& 
 And thro' the sable myrmidons she went, 
 Where late the mournful council made resort, 
 And where Mondingo made his sad report: 
 SJie heard the tidings with an aching heart. 
 And trembled for her soul's far dearer part. 
 To seek Lcuverture now she screaming flies, 
 Fear on her cheeks, tears gushing from her ۥ 
 And white his welfare all her thoughts employ, 
 She bathes her babe in tears, her infant boy. 
 The prince this heard, and rnarch'd without detey 
 Swift o'er the plain, and trod his former way* 
 Bidding Mondingo haste were glory calk, 
 And watch the Christians by their wooden wa$Sj 
 
 " E'er yet I mingle in the bloody fray, 
 ( He cries) my consort claims a moments sta>v 
 This day the last perhaps that sees me here, 
 Demands a parting kiss, a tender tear; 
 This day perhaps, I press my native land, 
 Slain by some treacherous foe, some Christian's hand ' 
 With haste to meet him, sprang the mournful dame, 
 As now she spied him o'er th' adjacent plain* 
 And as she ran, in close embraces press'd, 
 The lovely babe hung smiling at her breast; 
 With joy extatic to his arm's she flew, 
 And strain'd him close, as to his breast she grew, 
 Touch/d to the soul the prince with anguish he 
 Her sad complaints? and speakahis grief in tears 
 
Td. 101 
 
 Quick thro' his heart her mighty sorrows ran, 
 Grief seiz'd the prince and wrapp'd up all the man- 
 IV embrac'dhis mournful consort and resign'd, 
 To solemn sadness all his noble mind. 
 Vhe charming Sylvan cast a wishful look, 
 Hung round his neck, and thus dejected spoke-* 
 " My lov'd Louverturel whither wilt thou run , 
 And leave thy weeping wife, and smiling son? 
 Ah? think how miserable we shall be , 
 A widow I, an helpless orphan he; 
 Thy furious courage length of life denies, 
 This day thou falls't thy country's sacrifice ; 
 Proud Hawkins and his armies strive in vain, 
 But hosts invade us, and thou must be slain- 
 O may I, ere Louverture meets his doom , 
 With my poor infant seek the silent tomb. 
 So shall my days their race of sorrow run, 
 And end with anguish as they first begun. 
 No parents now remain, my woes to share,. 
 Nor shall I feel a tender brother's care: 
 The cruel Christians wrapt our town in fire, 
 Laid Ebo waste, and sold my warlike sire; 
 By them my twenty valiant brothers fell, 
 And none return' d their mighty wrongs to tell; 
 While herds and snowy flocks they fearless fed, 
 Amidst their flocks th* intrepid heroes bled*. 
 My sister liv'd to bear the robber's bands, 
 W*<? draggM in t*ars from her paternal lands, 
 
102 AVE MA 
 
 The hapless maiden ne'er beheld again. 
 
 Her dear, dear country, and her native pi 
 
 But press'd beneath her complicated woe y 
 
 She fell a victim to her lustful foe. 
 
 Yet while Louverture sUll survives I see 
 
 s 
 My mother, sister, brother, sire in thee; 
 
 Alas, my father, mother, brethren, all 
 Again must perish if my prince should rail 
 Louverture hears her plaints with silent Woe, 
 And as he hears the tears unbidden flow; 
 Then lifts his smiling infant high in air, 
 And breathes to heav'n his humble fervent pu 
 
 " Immortal Sire, who fills th/ xthereal throne. 
 From lawless ruffians save my wife and son, 
 Piiy the orphan's and the widow's woe* 
 And save them from the savage Christian 
 My bleeding country save, our warriors lead 
 To certain victory." The hero said, 
 Then fondly gazing on his consort's charms, 
 Restor'd the smiling infant to her arms? 
 Soft on her heaving breast the babe she laid, 
 Kiss'd his sweet lips, and with a smile survey'd? 
 The transitory joy, soon checked by fear, 
 She mingled with the smile a silent tear. 
 The tender prince with kind compassion mov'd, 
 First dried the falling tear, and thus pursued*. 
 
 " Ah me ! my Sylvan, how thy griefs I dread 
 Ev'n now, methinks I see thee captive !e<3; 
 
AVENIA. 103< 
 
 To bear the Chistians' hard commands, and forc'd 
 
 To plow their lands, serve their promiscuous lust, 
 
 May I be cold before that fatal day, 
 
 Press'd with a load of monumental clay. 
 
 * f But, Sylvan, why, my soul's far dearer part, 
 
 Say, why for me thus heaves thy panting heart \ 
 
 No hostile hand can antedate my doom, 
 
 Till Jove (Condemns me to tfte silent tomb; 
 
 Depend on him, to him for succour run, 
 
 His will is just, and let his will be done ; 
 
 No more, but hasten to my sire at home, 
 
 He needs thy comfort, mournful and alone; 
 
 Tell him this moment to the fight I fly, 
 
 Besolv'd to conquer, or resolv'd to die.{' 
 
 This said, the prince while tears in torrents fell 
 
 KissM wife and child and took his last farewel; 
 
 His consort parts with a prophetic sigh, 
 
 Unwillingly, and oft reverts her eye; 
 
 Tears gash'd at ev*ry look, then moving slow, 
 
 She join'd the matrons and indulg'd her woe, 
 
 The dames in sympathy their sorrows shed, 
 
 And mourn'd their prince as tho' he now were dead. 
 
 And now returning with a dauntless air, 
 
 The mighty chief anticipates the war; 
 
 Thro* all his martial myrmidons he moves, 
 
 Some he encourages and some reproves. 
 
 •* Brave men (he cries) your gen'rous hearts inflame 
 With mutual honour, and with mutual shame; 
 
104 AVENIA. 
 
 Think of your homes, yourselves, and aH the care,, 
 Tour wives, your infants and your parents share, 
 Think of each living father's rev'rend head, 
 Think of each glorious ancestor, now dead; 
 Absent, by me they speak, by me they sue, 
 They ask their freedom and their fame from you. 
 Your fate and theirs on this one action lay, 
 We all are lost if you desert the day. 
 Our ravish* d daughters soon shall curse their chains, 
 Our slaughter'd chieftains strew the mournful plains 
 Dread not your numerous foes, to Jove belongs, 
 Our righteous cause, and the revenge of wrongs." 
 tfe spake, when lo, a youth unknown to fame, 
 Yet wise and cautious [Mixgo was his name] 
 Viewing the ships with a dejected look, 
 With humble diffidence the prince bespokf : 
 
 " How oft my leader, thy reproach I bear, 
 For words well meant, and sentiments sincere* 
 True to the counsel which I judge the best, 
 I tell the faithful dictates of my breast; 
 To speak his thoughts is ev'ry freeman's rights 
 In peace, in war, in council, or in fight, 
 And all I move, defering to thy sway, 
 But tends to raise that pow*r which I obey: 
 Then hear my words, nor may my words be vain, 
 Seek not this day the Christians* boats to gain, 
 Fcr hosts oppose us, and we must be slain. 
 
r IA. 10- 
 
 we may threaten yon grand painted fleet 
 Tho' tyrants fall on tyrants at our feet, 
 Toils unforeseen, and fiercer are decreed ; 
 This day I fear will see cur heroes bleed." 
 To him Louverture with disdain return'd, 
 
 And as he spake, his eyes with fury burn'd : 
 " Are these the faithful counsels of thy tongue 
 
 Thy will is partial, or thy reason wrong. 
 
 Or if the purpose of thy mind thou vent, 
 
 Sure heav'n resumes the little sense it lent. 
 
 What coward counsel would thy madness move 
 
 Jove can defend-' may we not trust in Jove? 
 
 Without a sign his sword the brave man draws; 
 
 And asks no omen but his country's cause, 
 
 But why should'st thou suspect the war's sue. 
 
 None fears it more, as none promotes it less. 
 
 Tho' all our chiefs amid yon boats expire, 
 
 Trust thy own cowardice to escape their fire* 
 <. I and my chiefs may find a gen'ral grave, 
 
 But thou canst live, for thou canst be a slave- 
 Yet should the fears that wary mind suggests. 
 Spread their cold poison thro' our heroes' breast 
 My jav'lin can revenge so base a part, 
 And free the soul that quivers in thy heart." 
 The sable chief with fix'd resentment, eyed 
 The martial leader, and sedate replied. 
 
 \*y is it just my prince that Mingo's ear 
 
1Q6 AVENIA. 
 
 From such a heto, such a speech should heari! 
 
 I deem'd thee once the wisest of thy kind, 
 But ill this insult suits a gen'rous mind? 
 
 I shun the Christians, I desert my train? 
 *Tis mine to prove the rash assertion vain. 
 March to yon vessels, let us hew the way, 
 And thou be witness if I fear to day/' 
 u Debate no more [the prince replies] btu fight, 
 Urge those who stand, and those who faint excite? 
 Conquest, not safty, fill the thoughts of all, 
 And let us sally on each wooden wall: 
 For Jove's high will is ever uncontroul'd, 
 The strong he withers and confounds the bold; 
 Now crowns with fame the mighty man, and now 
 Strikes the fresh garland from the victor's brow." 
 Furious he spake and rushing to the wall, 
 Alarms his chiefs, his chiefs obey the call; 
 With ardour follow where their leader flies, 
 Redoubled clamour thunders in the skies. 
 Meantime the foe still land their lawless train, 
 Some watch impatient the retreating main; 
 Then vault and sieze the half recover'd shores, 
 Some slide more ventrousdown the bending oars; 
 From boat to boat in haste the ruffians fly, 
 But with less speed, the breaking waves too nigh* 
 So when a horseman from the wat'ry mead, 
 Skill'd in the manage of the bounding steed, 
 
AFENIA. 107 
 
 I>rivcs four fair coursers practised to obey, 
 To some great city thro* the public way; 
 Safe in his art, as side by side they run, 
 He shifts his seat and vaults from one to one r 
 And now to this and now to that he Mies; 
 Admiring numbers follow with their eyes. 
 A place at length their proud commander spied, 
 Where insmooth swellings roll'd an easy tidag 
 Thither his boats all from the deep he drew, 
 And thus exhorted the attentive crew. 
 
 M Now, now brave boys exert your utmost force, 
 Ply your swift oars, and urge your furious course; 
 Pull, heave your desp'rate long boats to the strand^ 
 Plow with your stems and keels the hostile land: 
 My sole ambition is to gain the coast, 
 And then no matter if the boats are lost.'* 
 
 So spake their chief Leclerc, and as he spoke, 
 They ply'd their oars and rose to ev'ry stroke: 
 Full on the land the rushing long boats bore 
 Till with their keels they clave the sandy shore. 
 Safe to the shelving beach the long boats run, 
 All scap'd the dangers of the rocks but one: 
 Leclerc's amidst the shallows rush'd, and there 
 Dash'd on a rock and sloping hung in air; 
 Press'd by a war of waves her shatter'd sides, 
 Burst, and the troops plung'd headlong in the tide; 
 They swam, assisted by their floating oars, 
 Till the long surges bare them to the shores- 
 M 2 
 
108 AVENIA. 
 
 The troops all landed in the yellow sand,. 
 
 The ships at distance from the battle stand, 
 
 In lines advanced along the shelving strand-.' 
 
 Whose bay the fleet unable to contain, 
 
 At length beside the margin of the main, 
 
 Close to the shore beneath the waving scene, 
 
 Of groves that paint the checquer'd floods with green 
 
 Rank above rank the painted ships they moor, 
 
 Who landed first lay nearest to the shpre. 
 
 And now Leclerc his eager soldiers warms, 
 
 Urges his myrmidons to blood and arms : 
 
 All breathing death, around their chief they stand* 
 
 In rank and file, a grim terrific band. 
 
 High in the midst their artful leader stands, 
 
 Directs his orders and the war commands* 
 
 His stern command his officers obey, 
 
 Himself supreme in valour as in sway. 
 
 His raging troops he views with joyful eyes,, 
 
 And rears majestic his gigantic size: 
 
 His pondrous sword with studs of jewels crown'd* 
 
 Full four feet long he grimly wields around, 
 
 Nor speaks like others iix'd to certain stands. 
 
 But looks a moving tower above the bands: 
 
 " Friends, officers and soldiers ever dear, 
 Brave, bold and valiant, thunderbolts of war; 
 Now, now be mindful of your old renown, 
 Your fathers' long tried courage, and your own, 
 Be bold, brave lads, this day your fortune's made, 
 
AVENIA. 109 
 
 March on invincible, be not afraid*. 
 Each lift his cutlass for a noble blow, 
 Nor heed the vaunting of the savage foe. 
 What aids expect you r\ this uimost strait? 
 What bulwarks rising between you and fate? 
 Our countrymen behold on yonder plain, 
 All horrible with gore, and newly slain. 
 <4 No troops, no bulwarks, your retreat attend, 
 No friends to hejp , no city to defend; 
 This spot is all you have to lose or keep, 
 There stand the negroes, and here rolls the deep." 
 He spake, and forthwith gave the dread command, 
 To march his forces o'er the hostile land, 
 Dreadful the sight and glitering from afar, 
 Of great Leclerc now marching to the war. 
 While slow and silent move the Christian bands, 
 No whisper bu£ their officer's commands; 
 These only heard with awe, the rest obey, 
 As if a god had snatch'd their voice away* 
 Not so Louierture\ from his host ascends, 
 A mighty shout that all the region rends; 
 And breathing death in terrible array, 
 The close compacted legions urg'd their way. 
 Soon as the prince the spangled chief beheld, 
 He rush'd impetuous o'er th' embattled field; 
 Each host now joins, and each dread rage inspii^^ 
 These liberty incites, those mammon fires; 
 N 
 
iiO AVENIA. 
 
 Their force embodied in a tide they pour, 
 
 The horrid combat sounds along the shore* 
 
 By passions various now together driv'n, 
 
 Meet the fierce hosts, and meeting darken heav'n, 
 
 And dreadful glar'd the iron face of war, 
 
 "With woods of upright spears that flashed afar. 
 
 The prince begins the fight his bosom warms, 
 
 The field grbws awefui with the clash of arms; 
 The glittering sabres flash, the arrows fly, 
 Slows echo blows, and all or kill or die. 
 Thrice fierce LGiiverture midst the ruffi'ans flew,- 
 And thrice five robbers at each onset slew. 
 Th' impatient Africans, a gloomy throng, 
 To meet the foe embattled roll along^ 
 They vow destruction to the Christian name, 
 And in their hopes the boats already flame.- 
 Loumerture fights, nor from his stand retires, 
 But with repeated shouts his army fires; 
 
 " Heroes be bold — this arm shall hew your way , 
 Thro' yon square body, and that red array; 
 Stand, and my sword shall rout their scattering pow*r, 
 Strong as they seem, embattled as a tow'r." 
 He said, and rais'd the soul in ev'ry breast, 
 Urg'd by desire to strike before the rest. 
 Whole squadrons the intrepid hero fought. 
 Fac'd e*v^ry foe, and ev'ry danger sought; 
 His thirsty lance, resistless as the wind, 
 Obeys each motive of the master's mil 
 
rA. 111 
 
 Restless it flies, impatient to be free, 
 And lor.gs to slay the treachrcus enemy. 
 The Christians bleed where'er Louverturc turns, 
 Their groans still deeper as his fury burns. 
 Now man to- man, with squadron squadron closM, 
 Chief against chief, and sword to sword oppos'd; 
 Victors and vanquished join promiscuous cries, 
 Victorious shouts and dying groans arise, 
 With smoking blood and brains the fields are dy'd, 
 And murder'd chieftains swell the mighty tide. 
 
 Now saw the chief who led the Christian band, 
 What numbers fell by great Louvjzrture's hand; 
 Fierce he advances in the front of fight, 
 Harrangues his troops, and stops their shameful flight; 
 
 " And where (he cried, and rais'd his voice on high) 
 Where, to what ramparts will you panting fly? 
 Shall one, and he a negro, make us fall, 
 One rash, intrepid warrior vanquish all \ 
 Calm you look on and see the savage foe, 
 Plunge crouds of soldiers to the realms belo^v. 
 Still shall your chief, ye base abandon'd trait. - 
 Still shall Leclerc demand your aid in vain:" 
 Rous'd by his words, they rally from afar, 
 Breathing revenge, and thicken to the war. 
 The chief beholds, and kindling at the view. 
 Now fires his host the Christians to pursue, 
 And like a mighty giant leads the van; 
 ^rce battalion follows to a man. 
 
112 t AVENIA. 
 
 Twice on the sable host he dauntless flew, 
 And twic'e a chieftain at each onset slew. 
 Rambo first met him in his furious way, 
 The tyrants sabre lopp'd his ear away: 
 The fallen chief in suppliant posture pr^ss'd 
 The ruffian* s knees and thus his prayer address'd? 
 " Oh spare my youth, and deign to let mre live, 
 And for this boon large gifts thou shalt receive".— -. 
 He sued in vain, the victor wav'd around, 
 His sword, and gash'd his belly with a wound. 
 That moment when the fatal blow was sent, 
 The soulrushM plaintive thro' the gaping ven£ 
 This saw Ornoko, and therewith enragM, 
 Strode where the foremost of the foes engaged, 
 Arm'd with a spear he meditates the wound, 
 In act to throw but cautious looks around, 
 Struck at the sight Lederc now backward drew^ 
 And heafd the whizzing Jav'iin as it flew.* 
 A youth stood nigh, who from Hibernia came, 
 fBrave, bold and fierce, and Bennei was his name, 
 The weapon enter* d just below his ear, 
 And thro' his temples hiss'd the flying spear. 
 He shreik'd that moment, and resign' d his breath, 
 His eye-halls darkning with the shades of death, 
 His mouth and nose eject a flood of gore, 
 That floats around him on the slippery shore. 
 Next hapless Ambo felt the victor's stee*, 
 
AVENIA. 113 
 
 Jt plow'd his side, the warrior shrieking fell. 
 Leclerc ran furious as he gasp'd for breath, 
 And thro' his navel drove the pointed death. 
 Nor less unpitied young Bunanno bleeds, 
 In vain his youth, in vain his valour pleads^" 
 Unhappy boy, no prayers, no moving art 
 E'er bent to mercy his obdurate heart. 
 Wh^le yet he tumbled at his feet and cried, 
 The ruthless sabre op'd his tender side; 
 He lopp'd his head, and kick'd it midst the throng- 
 It rolling, drew a bloody trail along. 
 At Dingo next his flying spear he cast, 
 But o'er his head the singing weapon pass'd? 
 The youth on bended knees assayed with art, 
 To bend his ste*n inexorable heart: 
 
 " Preserve, victorious chief my life alone 
 To glad a hoary father, and a son n 
 Nought mov'd the chief, he aim'd the fatal blow, 
 Full on his neck, and laid the stripling low* 
 His brother saw him fall, and shed a tear. 
 Full in the ruffians front he, dar'd appear, 
 And in a moment felt the deathful spear. 
 He also prav'd and begg'd his life in vain, 
 His head was lopp'd and roll'd along the plaim 
 That moment flew poor Gazoo o'er the field, 
 The spear o'ertook him as his course he held? 
 N 2 
 
114 AVENTA. 
 
 Down sunk the warrior \vith a horrid sound. 
 And grim with blood lay panting 1 on the ground. 
 
 ** Die, savage negro die," the monster said^ 
 And buried in his breast the smoking blade- 
 -The princes from this cruel slaughter far, 
 Rag'd on the right, and rul'd the dreadful war; 
 I>eep groans proclaim their progress thro* the plain* 
 O'er hills of carnage, mountains of the slain; 
 Lowvcrture issues out his stern commands, 
 Nor trusts the war to less important hands; 
 The ruffians see him come, with wild despair. 
 And ev'n Leclenc himself consents to fear. 
 The furious prince the van ot battle led, 
 And by his sword twice fifty tyrants bled. 
 The foe dispersed, their bravest soldiers kill'd, 
 Fierce as a torrent now he sweeps the field; 
 Still like a fury the brave prince proceeds, 
 Both armies wonder at his dreadful deeds; 
 Before his rage still fled the panting foe, 
 And many haughty, powder'd heads lay low. 
 While in black waves each sable squadron rolls , 
 Slashing their foes, and crushing out their souls. 
 The flying Christians shake the trembling ground, 
 The tumult thickens and the woods resound; 
 Sweating, the hosts engage, while shrieks arise 
 In frequent peals, and echo thro* the skies* 
 Long as imperial Sol increasing bright, 
 O'er heaven's clear azure spreads the golden light, 
 
AVENIA. its 
 
 Commutual death the fate of war confounds, 
 Each adverse army gor'd with equal wounds: 
 But when he to the height of heav'n ascends, 
 Each ruffian to his ship his footsteps bends- 
 Leclerc beheld, and thur.dring his commands, 
 Now strove to rally his affrighted bands; 
 With this reproach his flying host he warm?, 
 *' Oh, stain to honour, oh, disgrace to arms. 
 Forsake inglorious the contended plain, 
 This hand unaided shall the war sustain; 
 The task be mine, this negro's strength to try. 
 Who thus resistless makes our squadrons fly.'* 
 He calls aloud his flying troops from far, 
 Then turns and sternly waits the coming war. 
 Pride, conscious valour, av'rice, rage and sham$. 
 At once set all the tyrant in a flame. 
 
 " And now ye bastards, I'll no more delay, 
 (He cries) but go where fortune leads the way, 
 Prepar'd the bitterness of death to bear, 
 Til meet this negro hand to hand in war: 
 No longer will I see my army's shame - 
 Pursu'd and flying o'er the field of fame 
 Resolv'd at once, irrpejl'd with martial fir*. 
 To conquer, or triumphantly expire. 
 Yet watch the time when I defy the foe, 
 Move swift behind, and give the fatal bio 
 This hand shall wipe our late disgrace awv? , 
 
1 16 AVENIA. 
 
 While ye stand by, spectators of the fray." 
 Thus spake Leclerc, and with an eager bound, ^-—^ 
 Rush'd from his men, and measur'd back the ground; 
 And while his troops seem'd lost in sad despair, 
 Sprang thro* the storm of darts the prince to dare: 
 Now shook the dastard ranks by fear oppress'd, 
 And sad forebodings work'd in every breast; 
 
 With dread they view'd their chief o'ermatch'd in 
 
 might, 
 And curs'd the terms of the unequal fight; 
 
 Their dread encreases as the Prince draws near, 
 And Lecleres looks augment the gen'ral fear. 
 Shuddring, aghast, he moves with tardy pace, 
 A guilty paleness overspreads his face* 
 With courage forc'd anticipates the fray, 
 Rallies his pride, reluctant breaks the way- 
 Then to his troops he beckons with his hand, 
 And loudly thus bespeaks the trembling band: 
 lt To me, ye soldiers, the whole war resign, 
 All, all the fortune of the field be mine." 
 Back, at the word, the armies are compellM, 
 And for the champions form an open field. 
 And now the martial Prince at Leclerc's name, 
 Fierce from the ranks, in all Wis terrors came, 
 Left ev'ry second work of war behind, 
 While nought but vengeance fill'd his fearless mind. 
 He strides majestic, furious to engage, 
 His fathers foe: his eye-balls flash with rage; 
 
AVENIA. 117 
 
 Elate with hope, and glorying in his might, 
 The sable prince moves forward to the fight, 
 In military purple, fring'd with gold, 
 Leclerc approaches, gaudy to behold; 
 A radiant belt around his waist was tied, 
 And held the sword that glitter'd at his side. 
 His satin vest, white as the driven snow, 
 Seem'd less for use design'd than useless show, 
 Instar'd with beamy buttons in a vow. 
 Now death stands still, and o'er the slippery plain s d 
 Thro* all the ranks a solemn silence reigns: 
 Soon as the squadrons from the fight withdrew 
 Forth rush'd th' incensed combatants to view; 
 Leclerc first aim'd the meditated blow, 
 The hero shunn'd the disappointed foe. 
 The chief now foil'd, with agonizing ej*£, 
 Beholds his troops and longs for wings to fly : 
 No force, no courage the pale tyrant shows, 
 He pants with dread, his colour comes and goes; 
 Against his bosom beats his trembling heart. 
 Terror and death in his wide eye-balls start, 
 With chatt'ring teeth he stands, and stiffning hair, 
 And looks a bloodless image cf despair, 
 Not so Louverture; dauntless, still the same 
 Unchang'd his valour, and unmov'd his frame, 
 ComposVl his thoughts, determined is his eye. 
 And fix'd his soul to conqner or to diej 
 O 
 
H8 AVE N I A. 
 
 If ought disturbs the tenor of his breast, 
 'Tis love of country robs his soul of rest. 
 Lowverture now his dreadful sword prepares, 
 In act to strike, but first prefers his prayers; 
 i( Give me, kind Jove, to punish lawless lust; 
 And lay this monster gasping in the dust; 
 Destroy th' aggressor aid my righteous cause. 
 Avenge the breach of hospitable lawsf 
 Let this example future times reclaim,' 
 And guard from wrong fair virtues holy nameY 
 Avenge my sire, thou ruler of the skies," 
 He spake, and on Leclerc he fix'd his eyes, 
 Then with his eager sword he struck the foe, 
 On his full stretch, and aim'd a mortal blow, 
 A peal of groans was heard, each army bent, 
 Their eager eyes to wait the great event- 
 The wary Christian, bending from the blow, 
 Wards off the death, and disappoints the toe? 
 He wavM again his thundering sword, and struck 
 
 Full on the ruffian's sword —his body shook. 
 
 Jsouvsrture's steel, unfaithful to his hand, 
 Broke short, the fragments glitter'd on the sanoV 
 The raging warrior to the lofty skies, 
 RaisM his upbraiding voice, and vengeful ei 
 " Then is it vain in Jove himself to trust, 
 And is it thus that heav'n assists the just ? 
 When wrongs provoke us, Jove success denies* 
 The dart falls harmless, and the falchion fliee; 
 
AVENIA. 119 
 
 If from thy hands the fate of mortals flow, 
 
 From whence this favour to an impious foe* 
 
 A bloody crew, abandoned and unjust, 
 
 Still breathing rapine, violence and lust? 
 
 The best of things, above their measure, cloy, 
 
 Sleep's balmy blessing, love's endearing joy, 
 
 The feast, the dance, what'er mankind desire,, 
 
 E'en the sweet warblers in our vallies tire; 
 
 But Christians ever reap a dire delight 
 
 In thirst for money, and in lust of fight, 
 
 Curst gold ! how high will daring Christians rise* 
 
 In ev'ry guilt, to gain the fleeting prize." 
 
 The hero said, and towards the sable crew, 
 
 Seiz'd by his belt the panting chieftain drew, 
 
 Struggling he follow'd, while th* embroider'd thong 
 
 That tied his sword, drag'd the pale chief along. 
 
 So when the sov'reign eagle soars on high, 
 
 And bears the speckled serpent thro' the sky, 
 
 While his sharp talons gripe the bleeding prey, 
 
 In many a fold her curling volumes play, 
 
 Her starting brazen scales with horror rise; 
 
 The sanguine flames flash dreadful from her eyes; 
 
 She writhes, she hisses at her foe in vain, 
 
 Who wings at ease the wide zereal plain 
 
 With her strong hooky beak the captive plies, 
 
 And bears the helpless prey triumphant thro' the slfieS 
 
 Thus had his ruin crown' d Louverture* s ]oy> 
 
 But lo the foes their old resource employ; 
 
120 AVENIA. 
 
 Leclerc had, previous to the single fight, 
 And while the panting squadrons were in flight 
 Employed a man for villany prepaid, 
 Who dar'd to venture life for a reward; 
 Thomas his name, he watch'd with wily art, 
 The fav'ring moment to discharge his dart: 
 Where'er the noble prince his steps inclined, 
 The wretch in silence followed close behind,- 
 Oft shifted place, ran anxious to and fro, 
 Flew round the raging chief in act to throws 
 And aim'd his lance at the victorious foe; 
 And while Leclerc he dragg'd o'er come with fear 
 Swift from his covert, Thomas launched his spear- 
 And as the jav^n sung along the skies. 
 All $o the champion turn'd their eager eyes: 
 The prince dragged on, regardless of the sound 9 
 Till in his breast he felt the treach'rous wound: 
 Deep, deep infixM the ruthless weapon stood, 
 Transfix'd his heart, and drank the vital blood 
 Swift to his succour flew the sable train 
 And strove their sinking chieftain to sustain; 
 But far more swift the dastard Thomas fled t 
 Trembling with fear, nor turn'd his guilty head 
 As when a prowling wolf whose rage has slain 
 Some stately heifer, or the guardian swain* 
 Flies to the mountains with impetuous speed, 
 ConfusM and conscious of the daring deed. 
 Claps close his coward tail between his thighs 
 
AVENIA. 121 
 
 Ere yet the peopled country round him rise. 
 Not less confusM pale Tjfhomas took his flight, 
 Shun'd ev'ry eye and mingled in the fight; 
 The dying prince with agonizing pain, 
 Tugg'd at the fatal steel, but tugg'd in vain; 
 Meantime Leclerc the basest of his kind, 
 Had fled, and thought he left his life behind; 
 Panting and pale he hast'ned to the main, 
 And hid him safe within his walls again. 
 Deep rivetted within, the rankling daft 
 Heav'd in the prince, as heav'd the lab'ring heart. 
 He swoon'd he sank and scarcely drew his breath, 
 His soul now lingring on the brink of death; 
 As full blown lilies, overcharg'd with rain, 
 Decline tkeir heads, and drooping kiss the plainj 
 So sinks the prince — his beauteous head depress'd, 
 Serene, tho' languid, drops upon his breast; 
 The vernal splendors languish in his eyes, 
 The golden sun and all the spangled skies. 
 Tho' faint, he calls the partner of his care, 
 His friend in peace, his brother in the waw 
 With agonizing woe Mondingo flies, 
 While big round tears stream copious from his e^es; 
 Not faster trickling to the plains below, 
 From lofty rocks the silver waters flow. 
 The prince tho' dying, with compassion mov'd, 
 Address'd his brother whom he dearly lov'd. 
 " Mondingo, say what griefs thy bosom bears, 
 
122 JVENIA. 
 
 That flow so fast in these pathetic tears r 
 No longing infant whom the mother keeps, 
 "From her lovM breast, with fonder passion weeps* 
 Not more the mother's soul that infant warms, 
 Clung to her knees, or reaching out its arms; 
 Than thou hast mine. Oh, tell me to what end. 
 Thy sorrows can assist thy dying friend? 
 To suffer is the lot of man below, 
 Shall Jove give blessings, and dispense no woe? 
 His will be done — He will our cause defend, 
 As he has been, he'll ever be thy friend. 
 Brother I charge thee with my latest breath, 
 That unreveng'd thou bear Lowverture's death. 
 Jove will avenge my wrongs, do thou forego 
 A thirst for vengeance on the murd'rous foe- 
 But as a son and as a warrior fight, 
 Defend my sire, and conquer in my sight; 
 That taught by great example all may try 
 Like thee to conquer or like me to die 
 Brother be bold, thy task be first to dare 
 The glorious dangers of defensive war; 
 To lead my troops, to combat at their head. 
 Incite the living, and supply the dead* 
 No more Mondingo, mortal is my wound. 
 A dizzy mist of darkness swims around; 
 The victory was mine, but ah ! 'tis past. 
 This hour, this fatal moment is my last. 
 
Gc, and my cLyuig words to Lango bear, 
 Then to my mother, wife and babe repair; 
 When I'm no more, ah! comfort them,'' he said , 
 •\nd then to heav'n in whispering accents pray'd: 
 
 " Oh, be my sire thy providential care, 
 Protect his son and string his arm for war, 
 1'ress'd by his single force, Leclerc- shal: 
 His fame in arms not Owing all to me. 
 Preserve my wife, my son the social train, 
 And safe return him to their arms again, 
 Preserve them from the foe, and peace restore 
 Preserve thern, and Louverture asks no more 
 Then in his own his brother's hand he took. 
 And dying thus the filial hero spoke r 
 ' c This instant from the town the foe repel 
 And now I take a long, a last farewel; 
 My sire defend. 2 ' The vital spirit flies, 
 His head reclines, the brave Lotmertare dies. 
 With him his country fell. That moment ai- 
 rier yet surviving heroes seem'd to fall; 
 His brother drew the jav'lin from his heart, 
 The reeking fibre:, clinging to the dart; 
 A general peal of groans that instant broke 
 From all the warriors but Mondingo spoke; 
 
 " Lamented prince, ah! why could Jove intend. 
 To rob me thus of brother and of friend? 
 Jly hop'd, but ahj that hope was vain 
 
124 AVENIA. 
 
 That victors, we should glad our sire again; 
 Ah! wkat a son my sire, a chief our host, 
 And what a brother has Mondingo lost? 
 No more alas, shall wretched Sylvan come, 
 With tears of joy her prince to welcome homes 
 No more officious with enchanting charms, 
 Hail thee triumphant from the diic alarms, 
 Pant on thy breast, and languish in thy arms. 
 No more his sire thy son shall smile to see, 
 Nor stretch his infant arms, nor prattle on thy knee 
 Oh! worthy better fate, Oh! early slain, 
 Thy country's friend, and virtuous, tho' in vain? 
 Victor no more from war wilt thou retire, ] 
 And fly with joy to see thy loving sire, 
 No more with presents his embraces meet, 
 And lay the spoils of conquest at his feet: 
 We feel thy loss, thy fatal loss deplore, 
 The good, the great, the gen'rous now more.'' 
 He spake while manly tears flowM down amain, 
 And bade to raise the body of the slain. 
 ' Full twenty warriors from the host he chose, 
 To guard the corpse and share the father's woes, 
 The due funeral honours to complete, 
 A slender solace for a loss so great: 
 Soft bending twigs they weav'd, with care they spread 
 Sweet blooming flowers o'er the verdant bed, 
 And decent on the bier dispose the dead. 
 
AVENIA. 125 
 
 There like a rose he lay, with beauty crown'd, 
 Pluck'd by some lovely virgin from the ground; 
 The root no more the mother earth supplies, 
 Yet still the unfading colours charm the eyes. 
 And now Mondingo bending o'er the dead, 
 Kiss'd and embracM the clay, and groaning said. 
 
 " Farewel thou mighty spirit-— dire alarms 
 Of foes recal us to the rage of arms; 
 And to new scenes of woe thy friends compel, 
 Farewel, great prince, a long, a last farewel/* 
 Supported by his friends the chief oppress'd, 
 With grief fraternal smote his sable breast, 
 This moment paus'd, the next in sorrows drown'd 
 Broke from their arms and grovel'd on the grouncj,? 
 And now the melancholy, mourning train, 
 Slow move in solemn sadness o'er the plain, 
 Toward the town, and bear the hero slain. 
 August, tho' in distress, with heads declined, 
 The warrior's march, and leave the war behind, 
 Succeeding chiefs, a melancholy train, 
 Trail their inverted jav'iins on the plain. 
 
AVENIA. 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 4 *^ 
 
»3*>*» 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 SLAVER'S army victories, MONDINGO ralljes his troops-* 
 Conquest changes in hi»fav©ur~~lle is also slain by stratagem. 
 His army slaughtered to a man-k-SIavcrs burn the town--* 
 A thunder storm. 
 
AVENIAc 
 
 BOOK IV* 
 
 MEANWHILE the prince beholds the exulting foe, 
 Rage lifts his lance, his bosom heaves with woe. 
 And thus in language by distress made strong, 
 He animates and cheers the weeping throng" 
 
 " Brave chieftains, heroes, countrymen and friends 
 [The plain re-echoes with the voice he sends} 
 The scale of conquest ever waving lies. 
 Great Jove but turns it and the victor diej; 
 The great and good by thousands daily foil, 
 And endless were the^grief to weep ..for all, 
 Enough when death demands the brave to pay, 
 The tribute of a melancholy day; 
 One chief with patience to the grave rwign'd, 
 Our care devolves on others left behind: 
 To lose a friend* a brother or a son, 
 Heav'n dooms each mortal, and his will be done, 
 Awhile they sorrow, then dismiss their care, 
 Fate gives the wound, and man is born to b*ar?' 
 
130 AVENIA. 
 
 Now fierce M ondingo rush'd upon the foe, 
 And sent his voice before him big with woe, 
 Loud as the shout encountering armies yield 
 When twice ten thousand shake th* embattled field, 
 Such was the voice, and such the dreadful sound 
 Of fierce Mondingo thundering o'er the ground- 
 Each warrior's bosom beats to meet the fight, 
 With eager eyes they view the dreadful sight. 
 The Prince by rage, and grief, and love impell *d, 
 Stalk'd furious and majestic o'er the field, 
 Shook a huge jav'lin in his vig'rous hand 
 And forth to combat led his sable band. 
 Senaath the warriors groans the trembling ground, 
 And clouds of dust involve the regions round. 
 Fierce with their leader march the sable train, 
 And the black squadrons cover ail the plain. 
 Now stern Leclerc with impious Hawkim stood, 
 And saw their soldiers bath in hostile blood, 
 Embodied dose the lab'ring christian train, 
 The fiercest shock of charging hosts sustain, 
 UnmovM and silent, the whole war they wait, 
 Serenely dreadful, and as fiVd as fate, * 
 Enquiries none they made, the horrid day, 
 No pause of words admits, no dull delay. 
 So when th' embattled clouds in dark array, 
 Along the skies their gloomy lines display, 
 When now the north his boisterous rage has spent, 
 And peaceful sleeps the liquid element, 
 
4VENIA. 131 
 
 The low-hung vapours, motionless and still, 
 Rest on the summits of the shaded hill, 
 Till the mass scatters as the winds arise, 
 Dispers'd and hroken thro' the ruftled skies. 
 Nor is Mondingo wanting to his train, 
 He animates his troops thro'all the plain, 
 And furious in his fight he leads the van, 
 Facing the foe, an army to a man. 
 Dark show'rs of jav'lins fly from foes to foes, 
 Now here, now there, the tide of combat flows. 
 The Christians first to conquest lead the way. 
 Break the black ranks, and turn the doubtful day. 
 First bold z a ^ an S a stain'd the sands with blood, 
 Zalanga, hospitable, kind and good; 
 On Ebos sultry plains his native place, 
 Ke held his land, a friend to human race-* 
 Fast by the road his ever open door, 
 Receiv'd the stranger and reliev'd the poor, 
 No friend to guard him on the fatal day, 
 To base Leclerc he fell a helpless prey, 
 Breathless the good man fell, and by his side, 
 His faithful servant old Bonoko died. 
 The cruel chieftain lopp'd the old man's head, 
 And thus, with vengeful spite, exulting said, 
 
 n Die wretch, none of thy race, nor sex, nor age, 
 Shall save a negro from our boundless rage; 
 All, all shall perish, I will butcher all, 
 Their babes, their infants at the breast shall fall." 
 P 2 
 
132 AVE NIL 
 
 And now the soldiers charged the foe again* 
 And fifty warriors gasping, press'd the plains 
 Dreadful the show'r of darts by heroes flung, 
 And arrows, leaping from the bowstrings, sung. 
 Thick as from western clouds o'ercharg'd with rain , 
 Pours the black storm, and smokes along the plain, 
 Thick as the gather'd hail tempestuous flies, 
 O'er the wide main, and rattles down the skies, 
 When all the frowning heavens are darken'd o'er, . 
 And deep from ev'ry cloud the thunders roar. 
 Each army now in fierce contention vied. 
 And crowds of heroes in their anger died. 
 The sweat and blood descends, while clouds arise, 
 Of dust, and fields are lifted to the skies* 
 
 Leclerc now wields his sword that flashes light, 
 And swells the tumult and the rage of fight. 
 While void of fear, the great Mondingo stands, 
 And briefly thusharrangues his warlike bands " 
 " No wonder, soldiers, that we're forc'd to yield, 
 Jove favours them, and we must quit the field, 
 Their strokes he seconds, and averts our spears, 
 And hell, ev'n hell, in their behalf appears." 
 Then thrice the hero flew amidst the train, 
 And thrice repuls'd the vaunting foe again. 
 But now the troops and sable armies ran, 
 Full on the prince, an army on a man. 
 The prince retreats but with a tardy pace, 
 
; EN I A. l.i 
 
 Tho' hosts or toes now thunder in his face; 
 None turn their backs in mean ignoble flight, 
 Slow they retreat, and ev'n retreating, fight: 
 As the fierce boar whom a whole troop surrounds, 
 Of shouting huntsmen, and of yelping hounds, 
 Now grinds his iv'ry tusks, now foams with ire, 
 His sanguine eye-balls flashing living fire. 
 By those, by these, on ev'ry part is ply'd, 
 And the red slaughter spreads on every side\ 
 So the bold prince, lance after lance he threw, 
 And glaring round, by tardy steps withdrew. 
 He flies indeed, but threatens as he flies, 
 With heart indignant, and retorted eyes. 
 The chief unnerv'd in L-ecrec's presence grown, 
 Amaz'd he stood, with terrors not his own, 
 Yet still collected in himself, and whole, 
 He questions thus his own unconquer'd soul-" 
 
 " "Vvh a t other subterfuge, what hopes remain, 
 What shame inglorious, if I quit the plain \ 
 What danger singly if I stand the ground, 
 My men all scatter'd, and the foes around ? 
 Yet wherefore doubtful? let this truth suffice, 
 The brave meets danger, and the coward flies, 
 To die or conquer proves a hero's heart, 
 And knowing this, I choose the warrior's part. 
 Now big with fury, on the press he flew, 
 And twenty ruffians at the onset slew; 
 
S3 4 AVENIA. 
 
 And like a whirlwind toss'd the scattering throng* 
 
 Mingled the troops, and drove the field along- 
 
 So midst the dog's and hunter's daring band^ 
 
 Fierce in his might, a yellow lion stands: 
 
 Arm'd foes around a dreadful circle form, 
 
 And hissing bullets rain a leaden storm; 
 
 His pow'rs untam'd their bold assault defy, 
 
 And when he turns , the rout disperse or die; 
 
 He foams, he glares, he bounds against them all, 
 
 And if he falls, his courage makes him fall. 
 
 Back to the lines a wounded chief retir'd, 
 
 And tho' retreating, his associates fir'd, 
 
 Fix'd in his face, a quiv'ring weapon stood, 
 
 Fix'd was the point, but broken was the wood* 
 
 So sends the heedless hunters twanging bow, 
 
 The shaft- that quivers in the bleeding doe, 
 
 Stung with the stroke, and madd'ning with the pai'n, 
 
 She wildly flies from wood to wood in vain; 
 
 Shoots o'er the verdant lawns with many a bound, 
 
 The cleaving dart still rankling in the wound. 
 
 The chief exclaims: " Who has your hearts dismay'd? 
 
 O turn to arms, Mondingo claims yonr aid; 
 
 This hour he stands the mark of hostile rage, 
 
 And this the last brave battle he shall wage. 
 
 Haste, join your forces; from the gloomy grave, 
 
 The hero rescue, and your country save.'* 
 
 tThus timely urg'd, forthwith a troop appears, 
 
A TENIA- 135 
 
 Prepar'd tomeet the foe, advanc'd their spears; 
 To guard their valiant prince while thus they stand, 
 The brave Mondinge joins the gen'rous band, 
 Each takes new courage at their princes sight, 
 He rallies them and yet renews the fight. 
 Lecierc, that moment pale with guilt, retir'd, 
 While the intrepid prince his warriors fir'd; 
 Loud groans proclaim d him conq'ror, thro* the plain, 
 As he rush'd grimly o'er the heaps of slain. 
 Heaps pil'd on heaps, the bravest foes are kill'd, 
 And rage, and death, and carnage load the field, 
 The christians fly, and flying pant for breath, 
 And thick and heavy grows the work of death. 
 Ev'n treach'rous Thomas fell, whose ruthless spear, 
 Slew good Louvsrture and renew'd the war. 
 
 Mean while the plaintive, melancholy train, 
 With awful grief move slowly o'er the plain; 
 And sad progressing to the town they bring, 
 
 -fare's corpse, and thus their sorrow sing. 
 In plaintive notes still moving from the shore, 
 4i Our Prince is slain, and Congo is no rndrc." 
 And now a messenger swift as the wind, 
 Flew to the town, and left the corpse behind, 
 his sov'reign he appears, 
 •ells the tale, the mournful tale with tears- 
 ., gracious monarch, do i bear, 
 W suited to an anxious father's ear. 
 
136 AVENIA. 
 
 Dead is Louverture, slaughter'*! in the fight, 
 
 Thro' treach'ry, while the Christians were in flight. *» 
 
 A sudden horror, dreadful and profound, 
 
 Shot thro' the sire, he fainted on the ground; 
 
 Scarce from the gates of death recall'd, again, 
 
 He faints, and but recovers to complain. 
 
 Th' infectious tidings thro' the people ran* 
 
 One Universal solemn plaint began. 
 
 As snows collected on the mountains, freeze, 
 
 When milder regions breathe a vernal breeze, 
 
 The fleecy pile obeys the whispering gales, 
 
 Ends in a steam, and murmurs thro* the vales, 
 
 So melted with the dreadful tale he told, 
 
 Down their black cheeks the tender sorrows roll'd; 
 
 A peal of groans from the sad matrons broke, 
 
 And from the king, when thus the mourner spgke, 
 
 * f And is my dearest, bravest hero gone, 
 
 My loving, and my best beloved son! 
 
 Alas, my people, and my trusty friends, 
 
 Loaverture dead! this day your glory ends.'* 
 
 He lifts his wither'd arms towards the skies, 
 
 While streams of tears flow trickling from his eyes, 
 
 And 6ues for vengeance to the power above, 
 
 The sire of men, the God of truth and love; 
 
 " Oh might the barb'rous Christians ever be, 
 By Jove as hated as they are by me, 
 Then vultures wild should tear them round the shore t 
 
AVENIA. 167 
 
 And bloody dogs grow fiercer from their gore. 
 My valiant sons I late in peace enjoy'd, 
 Valiant in vain, by treachery destroy'd. 
 Must I in scenes of blood then close my eyes, 
 And number my last days with miseries. 
 And shall my dogs, late guard'ans of my door, 
 Lick their old masters mingled spatter'd gore! 
 My sons have died in youth, their death the best, 
 Each fell with wounds upon his noble breast; 
 But should the cruel Christians in their rage, 
 Spurn the hoar head of unresisting age, 
 This, this is misery the last and worst, 
 That man can feel, man fated to be curst." 
 He said, and acting what no words could say, 
 Tore from his head the silver locks away; 
 Thrice beat his breast in agonizing woe, 
 And thrice parental tears began to flow; 
 With him the screaming mother bears a part, 
 And mourns her offspring with a mother's heart, 
 With piercing shriek, ami agonizing moan, 
 Whilst her lov'd monarch answers groan for groan; 
 Pear after tear, their languid cheeks overflow, 
 And the whole city wears one face of woe* 
 No less than if th' insatiate foe's desires, 
 Had wrapp'd their hapless town in curling fires, 
 Nor than if dreadful hissing flames should rise, 
 And tta last blaze send Congo to the skies. 
 
I?8 AVENIA. 
 
 Again the monarch rais'd his heavy head, 
 
 And thus with intermix- , hp said? 
 
 " Help i ■- 1\, ire tc the plain, 
 
 To meet my, loving son, my hero slair ^ 
 
 He rose, and slowly mcv'cl. his " 
 
 Propp'd on two staffs, and shaking as he went, 
 
 Scarce could his people stop his desp'rate course* 
 
 "While keen affliction gave the feeble force; 
 
 Grief tore his heart, and drove him to and fro, 
 
 TVi all the raging agonies of woe: 
 
 <c Help me to go my friends, where sorrow calls, 
 
 And die triumphant by yon wooden walls; 
 
 Guide, or companion, lo! I ask you none, 
 
 Nay, but I'll die by my beloved son: 
 
 1*11 go ard meet the murd'rer of my boy, 
 I'll kill the treach're us villain or 1*11 die- 
 Ah! would Almighty Jove once more renew, 
 The vigorous strength of youth which once I knew\ 
 When by this hand, beneath our verdant w r all, 
 King Mivgo saw his vanquished army fall, 
 When, victor of the held, and. crown'd with fame, 
 With piles of hostile dead, 1 fed the flame, 
 And tho' thrice wounded on th.' embattled plain v 
 Yet thrice revived, and arm'd, and fought again. 
 Such were I now, not all the dire alarms, 
 Of barb'rous foes should tear him from my aims: 
 But hear, kind heaven, and thou great ruler, hear 
 With kind regard, a king's and father's prayer: 
 
ENIA. 139 
 
 Avenge my son, and at thy dread command, 
 May sharks devour them e'er they reach the land. 
 Transfixed with thunder, may they fall a prey, 
 To ev'ry monster on the watr'y way ; 
 Let now thy bolts be launched against the train. 
 And let Letltrc now press th' ensanguin'd plain. 
 My valiant sons and warriors in their bloom, 
 By them were hurried to an early tomb. 
 Thy loss, Louverture, oh divinely brave, 
 Sinks my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave*- 
 My son, my loving son, would I had died, 
 In thy defence, and languished by thy side, 
 Thus shard thy sweet society in death, 
 And on thy bosom gasp'd my latest breath 
 For thee my son, for thee my sorrows flow, 
 Born to thy own, and to thy parent's woe. 
 But could Louverture merit thus, whose breath 
 Expir'd not meanly in inactive death 7 
 He pour'd his noble blood in manly f)gln ; 
 And fell a hero in his country's right. 
 Content, by the same hand let me expire, 
 Add to the murder'd son the wretched sire. 
 One cold embrace at least may be allow'd, 
 And my last tears be mingled with his blood.*' 
 And now his consort with pathetic cries, 
 Renews her plaints, and briefly thus replies* 
 
 M Ah whither wanders thy distempered mind, 
 And where the prudence now riiat aw'd mankind- 
 
140 AVENIA. 
 
 To CoNGaonce, and all our regions known 
 
 Now all confused distracted, overthrown: 
 
 Singly to pass thro' hosts of foes, and face 
 
 (Oh, heart of steel!) the murd'rer of thy racei 
 
 To view those deathful eyes, and wonder o'er 
 
 Those hands yet reeking with JLouverture's gore* 
 
 Alas, my king, they know not how to spare, 
 
 And what their mercy, thy slain sons declare: 
 
 To calm their barbarous and their direful rage, 
 
 Vain were thy dignity and vain thy age. 
 
 No, pent up in some forrest, let us give 
 
 To grief the wretched days we have to liv€< 
 
 Oh, in the christian's blood might I allay 
 
 My grief, and these barbarities repay. 
 
 But thou, oh, Jc :-ve, avenge my wrongs." She cries* 
 
 While tears ot rage stand burning in her eyes. 
 
 Now were the pensive train approaching near 
 
 With the dead body stretched upon a bier. 
 
 All beautiful in death t\ e hejFO lay, 
 
 As some sweet flow'r scv . ; : by the solar ray. 
 
 The monarch sees the corpse wi*h eager eyes, 
 
 6 < And oh, my son, myMarlii % he cries, 
 
 In haste he strove to move wi 
 
 Propped on his staves, and weep 
 
 With thronging crowds toward ti ans s 
 
 Nor maid, nor matron, in the town * c ns; 
 
 In ev'ry face a weight of grief is shown, 
 
 The dames send forth one universal groan. 
 
AVENIA. 141 
 
 Close to the town they meet the weeping train, 
 Hang on the bier, and grovel round the slain; 
 The wretched mother frantic with despair, 
 Kiss'd his wan cheeks, and tore her sable hair. 
 But nothing can the sire's distress restrain, 
 He wrings his hands, his tears pour down amain, 
 With kisses wanders o'er his face, and rears 
 The body up, and bathes the wound with tears. 
 At length exhausted on the corpse he lay, 
 And there had sigh'd and sorrow'd out the day, 
 But now the wretched mother first arose: 
 
 « Forbear [she cry'd] this violence of woes, 
 First to the town let all the train proceed, 
 Then pour your boundless sorrows o'er the dead." 
 Tke waves of people at her word divide, 
 Slow move the mourners thro' the yielding tide, 
 Ev'n to the prince's house the pomp they wart, 
 And groaning place him on a bed of state; 
 A melancholy company around, 
 With plaintive sighs, and music's mournful sound', 
 Alternate sing, alternate bid to flow, 
 Th' obedient tears, harmonious in their woe, 
 While the deep sorrows groan from each full heart, 
 And nature speaks at ev'ry pause of art. 
 But not as yet the fatal news had spread, 
 To charming Sylvan, of her hero dead: 
 Far in the close recesses of a grove, 
 She went to weep unheard her hapless love, 
 
142 AVENIA. 
 
 Now from. the town the clamours reach her ear, 
 And all her members shake with sudden fear, 
 She stops the pearly sorrows as they fall, 
 And calls her maid-— the maid obeys her call. 
 
 " Ah, follow me, (she cries) what plaintive noise 
 Invades my ear? 'tis sure my mother's voice; 
 My fauit'ring knees their trembling frame desert; 
 A pulse unusual flutters at my heart, 
 Some strange disaster, some reverse o£ fate, 
 (Oh Jove avert it!) threats our native state. 
 Far be the ©men which my thoughts suggest, 
 But much I fear Louverture's dauntless breast. 
 Pursuing Christians o'er the purple plain, 
 By force or fraud, I fear, I fear him slain! 
 Safe in the crowd he ever scorn'd to wait, 
 But sought' his glory at too dear a rate, 
 Perhaps his noble heat has cost his breath, 
 Now quench'd forever in the arms of death." 
 Thus spake the princess, and with quicken'd pace, 
 Fears in her heart, and anguish in her face; 
 Flies from the grove, the maids her step pursue, 
 Toward the house, and here her anxious view 
 Too soon, alas! her much lov'd consort found, 
 A corpse, his father fainted on the gronnd. 
 A sudden darkness shades her swimming eyes, 
 She faints, revives, and sends forth piercing cries; 
 Around a train of weeping matrons stand, 
 To raise her, sinking, with assisting hand* 
 
AVEftlA. 1 4 S 
 
 Scarce from the verge of death recall'd, again 
 
 unts, while rushing to her hero slain; 
 And when reviv'd, strait to the corpse she flew, 
 Around his neck her widow'd arms she threw; 
 4< And oh! my prince, my much lov'd prince (she cries) 
 Snatch'd in thy bloom from these desiring eyes, 
 Thou to the unknown realms forever gone, 
 And I abandon'd, desolate, alone. 
 Our helpless babes the solace of our pain, 
 Sad product now of hapless love remain; 
 To manly age ne'er shall our children rise, 
 Or with increasing graces glad mine eyes ; 
 For Congo now her great defender slain. 
 Shall sink a smoking ruin on the plain. 
 Who now protects her wives with guardian care? 
 Who saves her infants from the rage of war? 
 Now hostile fleets must waft those infants o'er, 
 Those wives must wait them on a foreign shore 
 And ye, my children shall be fore'd to go, 
 The sad companions of your mother's woe, 
 3>riv'n hence, as slaves, before the Christian sword y 
 Condemn'd to toil for some inhuman lord! 
 .Alas, my prince. " Her tears now pour amain, 
 And drown the words of the unhappy dame, 
 * from the sluices of he shining eyes, 
 
 round chrystal drops, while thus she cries- 
 - Alt dearest prince, in whom tygh heav'n had jom'd 
 
 Q.2 
 
144, AVENIA. 
 
 The mUdest manners with the bravest mincL 
 
 Oh, virtuous husband of a wretched wife 5 
 
 Born to endure a melancholy life! 
 
 Would I had never been, oh, injur'd ghost, 
 
 Of my lov'd hero prematurely lost, 
 
 My children, ye have lost your syre; no friend 
 
 To help you now, no father to defend; 
 
 For should you 'scape the sword, the common doom. 
 
 What wrongs attend you, and what griefs to come; 
 
 Ev'n from your own paternal roof expell'd 
 
 Some stranger reaps your patrimonial field; 
 
 The day that to the shades your father sends, 
 
 Robs the sad orphan of his father's friends* 
 
 Amongst the happy unregarded he 
 
 Hangs on the robe, or trembles at the knee, 
 
 While those his father's former bounty €ed 
 
 Nor reach the bottle, nor divide the bread. 
 
 The kindest but his present wants allay, 
 
 To leave him wretched the succeeding day, 
 
 Frugal compassion! heedless they who boast 
 
 Both parents still, nor feel, what he has lost. 
 
 Sternly they cry, begone, you feast not here. 
 
 The boy obeys, retiring with a tear, 
 
 Forc'd by repeated insults to return, 
 
 And to his widowM mother vainly mourn/' 
 
 So spake the dame, with sorrow-streaming eye. 
 
 Distressful beauty melts each stander by, 
 
 Her lamentations all her people tear, 
 
AVENIA. 145 
 
 Give back each sigh, and answer tear for tear. 
 While the sad father now reviv'd again, 
 By friends supported, hovers o'er the s 
 
 " Oh, had thy gentle spirit passed in peace, * 
 
 (He cries) and languished in the sire's embrace, 
 
 While both thy parents wept the fatal hour, 
 And bending o'er thee, mix/t the tender show'*} 
 
 Some comfort that had been, some sad relief, 
 To melt in full satiety of grief !" 
 
 Thus waii'd the father, grov'ling on the ground, 
 And all the eyes of Congo streamed around. 
 
 Amidst her matrons Milboa. appears^ 
 
 The mourning mother and her train 
 
 " Oh, why has heav'n prolonged this halted r vo 
 Why am I suffer'd to behoh • 
 
 Alas my son, to thee cur pc 
 
 Our chief, our here, and almost our - 
 
 Oh, fatal chanj 
 
 A sensely cojpse, inanimated c3 - 
 
 Of all my race, thcu most by he 
 
 And by ev'n Jove himself in dei 
 
 Thou oft for others felt pathetic 
 
 And had'st ev'n pity for the guilty 
 
 The wife and mother thus in de: 
 
 SA lips and tear their sable hair* 
 
 ■ £*KKK erior 1i0a ^ s tr ' 3 tender sage, 
 He s rev'rend head, now white with r. 
 
 He 
 
I46 AVENIA. 
 
 And calls his much lov'd son with feeble cries. 
 
 '< Oh, gracious heav'n, is then Leclerc thy care 4 , 
 
 That flinty heart, inflexible severe; 
 
 A lion not a man, who slaughters wide, 
 
 In strength of rage, and confidence of pride* 
 
 Who hastes to murder with a savage joy, 
 
 Invades around, and breathes but to destroy; 
 
 Shame rs not in his soul, nor understood, 
 
 The greatest evil or the greatest good; 
 
 A treach'rous coward, by no reason aw'd, 
 
 He violates the laws of man and God." 
 
 The monarch now delirious with his pain, 
 
 Around him furious drives the menial train, 
 
 In vain each slave with duteous care attends, 
 
 Each office hurts him, and each face offends: 
 
 " Why stay you here, officious crowd?" (he cries) 
 
 Hence, nor obtrude your anguish on my eyes; 
 
 Have ye no griefs at home to stay ye there? 
 
 Am I the only object of despair? 
 
 Am I become my people's common show, 
 
 Set up by heav'n your spectacle of woe? 
 
 No, you must feel them too, yourselves must faU, 
 
 The treach'rous savage christians threaten all" 
 
 Nor is Lotiverture by me alone, 
 
 Your sole defence, your guardian pow*r is gone. 
 
 I see your bipod the fields of Congo drown, 
 
 I see the ruins of your burning town; 
 
 Oh, grant me, Heav'n, e'er that sad day shall ccm< 
 
AVENIA- U7 
 
 Grant me, tis all I ask, a friendly t«mb. 
 Alas, my hero, more than man, divine, 
 For sure thou seemedst not of earthly line, 
 Thee, thee, I long to see, to tlree I'll go, 
 And meet one common grave one common woe," 
 He said, and sternly drove his friends away, 
 His sorrowing friends his frantic rage obey. 
 Meanwhile ir> haste the imperious tyrants run, 
 With rage tumultuous from the mournful town, 
 The chase with shouts the fierce battalion led, 
 While great Mokdingo thunder'd at their head, 
 Raging he spread the dreadful slaughter round, 
 Some foes expir'd, some panted on the ground* 
 He led the van with unresisted sway, 
 And desolation mark'd the hero's way. 
 As to. their boats he drove the affrighted train, 
 Covered with dust, and stumbling o'er the plain. 
 And gasping, sweating, and still lab'ring more, 
 With heavier strides that lengthened to the shore. 
 Then had the prince eternal fame acquir'd 
 And trembling ruffians to their ships retir'd, 
 But lo, their old resource the Christians try 
 Their still successful fraud and villany. 
 Before their boats a desperate stand they made 
 Harangued their troops, and sum'd up all their aid; 
 When pale and panting, base Lfxlerc began, 
 And stopp'd his trembling soldiers as they ran: 
 
 soldiers, soldiers, stop your flight [he cries] 
 
US AVENIA. 
 
 Oh, shame, what horrors strike my wondering eyes, 
 And shall we not avenge our warriors slain, 
 On yon proud chief, the terror of the plain? 
 Attend! an ambush I'll myself prepare, 
 And try to foil him in the wiles of war, 
 Watch, while I dare him to the single fight, 
 And ^f he come, he falls beneath your might." 
 The leader stopp'd, and look'd with eager eyes, 
 To see the prince, while sad sensations rise, 
 Quick beats his heart, fears in succession roll, 
 He turns, and questions thus his doubtful soulr 
 * c What, shall I fly this terroY of the plain, 
 Like others fly, and be like others slain? 
 Vain hope, to shun him by the self same road, 
 & Yon line of slaughtered soldiers lately trod. 
 I'll challenge him in yon champaign that leads 
 Down to our boats, and near yon verdant shades. 
 Then, if my stratagem succeed, 'tis good, 
 If not, I'll reach conceal'd the covert wood, 
 And when the night her dusky vail extends, 
 Return in safety to my joyful friends. 
 What if ——but wherefore all this vain debate, 
 Stand I to doubt within the reach of fate? 
 Ev'n now, I hear or think I hear his call, 
 His thund'ring voice, a prelude to my fall, 
 Such is his swiftness, 'tis in vain to fly, 
 And such his valour, he who stands must die| 
 
AVENIA. 149 
 
 Yet sure he too is mortal, he may feel, 
 Like all the sons of men, the force of steel; 
 One only soul now animates that frame, 
 And God's sole favour gives him all his fame; 
 That god who's ever deaf to human cries, 
 The tyrant, not the father of the skies- 
 Unpiteous of the race his will began, 
 The fcolof fate, his manufacture, man; 
 With courage he has crown'd the savage foe, 
 While we poor Christians scarse the blessurg know." 
 Thus the proud chief, and rolling fierce his eyes, 
 Curs'd the bright stars of heav'n and azure skies. 
 Then said, " suppose these measnres I forego, 
 Approach unarm'd and parley with the foe; 
 Agree to leave the shore, and launch to sea, 
 And there respire, and plow the watry way: 
 But why this thought? unarm'd if I shonld go, 
 I woman-like might fall without a blow. 
 We meet not here, as man conversing man, 
 t at an oak, or journeying o'er the plain; 
 No season now for calm familiar talk, 
 Like youth's and maiden's in an evning walk; 
 War is cur bus'ness, but to whom is giv'n, 
 To die or triumph, that determines heaven.'' 
 U'd up in his den, the swelling snake, 
 Beholds the traveller approach the brake, 
 *VV*hei: fed with noxious herbs, his turgid vein?; 
 R 2 
 
15Q AVENIA. 
 
 Have gather' d mortal poison from the plains. 
 
 He burns, he stiffens with collected ire, 
 
 And his red eyfer-)>alls glare with living fire, 
 
 So he, while the tremendous prince drew nigh, 
 
 His shouts reverberating to the sky, 
 
 Tall and majestic. In his better hand, 
 
 Wielding a sword that glitter'd o'er the land. 
 
 As Leclerc sees, unusual terrors rise, 
 
 Struck with dismay, he starts, recedes, and flies, 
 
 .Leaving his soldiers, pale with dread, behind; 
 
 Mondingo follow'd like the winged wind, 
 
 uep by step, where'er the tyrant wheel'd, 
 here fierce Mondingo compass* d round the field. 
 ) as to reach the painted boats he bends, 
 \n& hopes the assistance of his trembling friends, 
 So oft Mondingo turns him to the plain., 
 He eyes his vessels, but he eyes in vain. 
 As men in slumbers seem with steady pace, 
 One to pursue, and one to lead the chase, 
 Their sinking limbs the fancied course forsake, 
 Nor this can fly, nor that can overtake: 
 No less the lab'ring heroes pant and strain, 
 While that but flees, and this pursues in vain. 
 At length he strove to reach his troops, and then* 
 Sign'd to his officers and chosen men, 
 To strike when e'er he stopp'd, the fatal blow, 
 And thus destroy the fierce intrepid foe, 
 
&VEN1A. 151 
 
 Fraudful the thought- then swiftly march'd before, 
 Vent'ring to shun his hated foe no more. 
 Sternly they met; Lcclerc the silence broke, 
 Quick beat his troubled heart, and thus he spoke: 
 «* Enough, Mendingo, all our troops have viewed, 
 Thrice round the field tueir bravest chief pursu'd; 
 But now a new born courage bids me try, 
 Thine or my fate, I kill thee, or I die. 
 Yet on the verge of battle let us stay, 
 And for a moment's space suspend the day, 
 Letheav'ns high, pow'rs be calPd to arbitrate, 
 The just conditions of this dread debate, 
 Impartial witnesses of all below, 
 And faithful guardians of the treasur'd vow! 
 To thee I swear, just, holy, good and wise, 
 Witness oh earth, and hear ye sacred skies, 
 Ye stars that in your spacious orbits fly, 
 And gild the spangled canopy on high, 
 Ye woods, ye vales, ye jes'mine groves, and thou 
 Imperial Sol, be witness of my vow! 
 Solemn I swear, if victor in the strife, 
 Heav'n by these hand's shall shed thy noble life, 
 No vile dishonour shall thy corpse pursue; 
 Stripped of its arms alone, the conq'rors due, 
 The rest to thy brave warriors Til restore: 
 Now plight thy mutual oath, I ask no more. 
 And oh! may earth her dreadful gulph display 
 And gaping snatch me from the golden day, 
 
15 1 AVENfA. 
 
 May I lie hurl'd by heaven's almighty sire, 
 Transfixed with thunder, and involved in fire, 
 Down to the shades of hell from realms of light. 
 To the deep horrors of eternal night. 
 E'er sacred honour, I betray thy cause, 
 In word or thought, or violate thy laws.^i 
 
 Talk not of oaths, (the raging prince replies, 
 "While honest anger flashes from his eyes.) 
 Detested as thou art, and ought to be, 
 No oith nor pact Mondingo, plights wkh thee. 
 Such pacts as lambs and rabid wolves, combine, 
 Such leagues as men and furious lions join: 
 \Vhat in my secret soul is understood, 
 My tongue shall utter, and my deeds make good, 
 Know, treacherous foe, my purpose I retain, 
 Nor with new treaties vex my soul in vain 
 Who dares think one thing, and another tell, 
 My soul detests him as the gates of hell,. 
 Once wrong'd, all treacherous Christians I disdain, 
 Deceived for once, I trust them not again. 
 My brother kiil'd, ail terms I now decline, 
 For orie deceived was his, but twice*was mine. 
 - Tho* bribes were heap'd on bribes, in number more. 
 Than dast in fields, or sand along the sjiore; 
 Tho* in angelic forms with angel's tongues. 
 They sp^ke, and strain'd their adamantine lungs, 
 And tho' they proffer'd all themselves passess'd, 
 And all their rapine could from others wrest; 
 
AVENIA, ': 
 
 And ali t]ie golden tides of wealth that crown 
 Each Christian sov'reign and imperial town: 
 Should all these offerM for my friendship call, % 
 'Tis Christians offer, and I doubt them all. 
 Rouse then thy force, in this important hour, 
 Collect thy soul, and call forth all thy pow'r; 
 No further subterfuge, no further chance, 
 Tis justice, justice gives thee to my lance. 
 Louverture's ghost thro* thee depriv'd of breath , 
 Now hovers round, and calls thee to thy death." 
 
 R youth there was, and Fontanes was nam'd, 
 Not much for sense, but less for courage fam'd, ■ 
 The youngest of the band, a vulgar soul, 
 Born but to plunder, and to drain the bowl; 
 He watch 'd the champion as the warrior spoke, 
 With stiffened hair, and with an eager look, 
 And while Mondingo stood in act to throw., 
 Approach'd behind and dealt a staggYmg blow 
 First cautious view'd the sable warrior train, 
 Then snatch'd a rocky fragment from the plains 
 The rugged stone he pois'd, and tossM on high? 
 It hissM with force, and labour'd up the sky. 
 And on the shoulders where the neck unites, 
 Full on the bone the rocky fragme nt lights. 
 The horrid shock his head and shoulders feel. 
 His eyes flash sparkles; his stunn'd senses 
 In giddy darkness far at distance' flung, 
 His bounding jav'Un irnDOtenUy rung, 
 
154 AVENIA. 
 
 While the prince drags his trembling steps air. 
 An officer there was well known to fame, 
 From Liverpool, and Simpson was his name; 
 His vent'rous spear first drew the prince's gore. 
 He struck, he wounded, but he durst no more 
 But trembling fled unto the distant shore; 
 For tho' disarm'd Mondingo furious stood, 
 He turn'd him short, and herded with the crowfl. 
 
 Thus by a dastard's arm, a dartard's spear, 
 Wounded at last, the prince consents to fear; 
 Returns for succour to his sable train, 
 And seeks for help, but seeks, aias! in vain. 
 Proud Hawkins as the bleeding prince he views, 
 Breaks through the ranks, and his retreat pursues; 
 The wretch arrests him with a ghastly wound 
 Deep thro' his back' the sword an entrance found 
 Bending he fell, and doubled to the ground. 
 And with him Congo sunk : that moment all 
 Her heroes, and her youths and maidens fall.. 
 Prone on the field the bleeding hero lies, 
 While thus imperious Hawkins boasting cries^ 
 " Aha! Mondingo stretch'd at last I see, 
 Now learn, tho' late, and dread such foes as me; 
 Great prince, you should have fear'd wjiat now yot^ 
 
 feel, 
 Brave Hawkins absent, was brave Hawkins stillA 
 
 Supine, and wildly gazing at the skies. 
 1 With faint expiring breath, the prince replies: 
 
 " Vain boaster cease* and know the pavers a^ov*e 
 
AVENIA. « tss 
 
 DetesMhy deed, yea, 'tis abhor'd by Jove 
 To fraud you owe, whate'er your Own you call, 
 And traudful foes disarm'd me, e'er my fall. 
 Had twenty tyrants, each thy match in might, 
 Oppos'd me, singly they had sunk in flight; 
 But thou, imperious, hear my latest breath, 
 Great Jove inspires it, and it sounds thy death; 
 Inhuman man, thou shalt be soon as I, 
 Hlack fate hangs o'er thee, and thy hour is nigh* 
 TransfiVd by thunder thou shall fall a prey 
 To greedy sharks that plough the wat'ry way, 
 E'vn now on life's last verge I see thee stand, 
 Wnile vengeance hovers o'er thy guilty land!'*' 
 Then Hawkins, pausing, as his eyes he fed 
 On the bold prince before the spirit fled: 
 
 " From whence this boding speech, this stern de- 
 cree, 
 Of death denounc'd, and why denounc'd on met 
 I shall be honour'd wh^n 1 meet my doom, 
 "With solemn fun'ral, and a lasting tomb; 
 While cast to all the rage of hostile pow'r 
 Thee birds shall mangle, and the dogs devour* 
 Fierce hungry beasts shall tear thy eyes away, 
 And hov'ring vultures scream around their prey'-'' 
 
 Mondinga, fainting at th' approach of death, 
 " By thy own soul, by those who gave thee brea th 
 By all the sacred prevalence of prayer, 
 Ah' leave me not for greedy dogs tfc tear*. 
 
154 AVENIA. 
 
 The common rites of sepulcre bestow, 
 To soothe a father, and a mothers woe, 
 Let their large gifts procure a grave at least 
 And let my ashes in my country rest.** 
 
 He strives to move the wretch, as waves in vain 
 Beseige some rock, amidst the rolling main, 
 That hears unmov'd the sounding tempest blow, 
 That sees the furious surges foam below, 
 And o'er the deeps, majestic to the sight, 
 Stands fix'd and glorious in its matchless height; 
 Proud of its bulk, while storms and working tide? 
 Fly, dash and break against tbe towVing sides. 
 Thus hard and thus relentless he replies, 
 The flames of fury flashing from his eyes: 
 
 " Not those who gave me breath should bid mt 
 spare 
 Nor all the sacred prevalence of prayer; 
 Could I myself the bloody banquet join 
 Nor to the dogs would I thy corpse resign, 
 Should heaven to bribe me bring forth all its store. 
 And giving millions, offer millions more, 
 Should thy black father and his weeping dame 
 Drain their whole realm and sacrifice their fame, 
 To purchase for their son a peaceful grave, 
 From hungry beasts their son they could not save; 
 Their hero in the grave they could not see.. 
 Nor rob the vultures of a limb of thee'' 
 Thefj thus the prince, in dying accent? skr*£ 
 
AVENlA* 15T 
 
 « Thy spite implacable too well I know, 
 The furies thy relentless breast have steel'd, 
 And curst thee with a heart that cannot yield; 
 Yes, men unborn and ages yet behind 
 Shall curse that fierce, that unforgiving mind: 
 A man inhuman, if of man thy race, 
 But sure thou spring'st not from a soft embrace; 
 Nor ever am'rous hero caus'd thy birth 
 Nor ever tender woman brought thee forth; 
 Some rugged rock's hard entrails gave thee form. 
 And raging seas produced thee in a storm : 
 Yet know, a day will come by heav'n's decree, 
 When angry Jove shall wreak this wrong on thee. 
 The heavenly Sire shall soon avenge our fates 
 On Christian nations, cities, towns and states. 
 Hawkins now stop'd him as he speaking lay, 
 And loppM his head and quiv'ring limbs away; 
 He ripp'd his belly with a dreadful wound; 
 The blood and entrails smok'd upon the ground, 
 And kick'd the mutt'ring head amidst the throng, 
 That rolling drew a bloody trail along. 
 As when the mountain oak, or poplar tall 
 Orpine, fh most for some grand admiral, 
 Groans to the oft heard axe with many a wound, 
 Then spreads a length of ruin on the ground, 
 So sunk Mondingo in that dreadful day, 
 And spread around his mangled members lay. 
 The thronging troops behold with wond'ring eyes, 
 
158 AVENU^ 
 
 His manly beauty and superior size, 
 
 While others cowardly the trunk deface, 
 
 With gas>tly wounds, a nd thus in taunts disgrace: 
 
 " How chang'd this negro, who like hea'vn of late 
 Vanquished our valiant troops and seal'd their fate" 
 Now on the slain the boasting Hawkins stands, 
 Surrounded by his chiefs and gathering bands,, 
 And thus aloud, while all the host attends. 
 
 " Victorious soldiers, countrymen and friends, 
 Since now at length the potent will of heav'n, 
 This dire destroyer to our arm has giv'n, 
 Now in those negroes bathe your swords in gore, 
 The great, the glorious princes fight no more; 
 This day shall give you all your soul demands, 
 Glut all your hearts, and weary all your hands; 
 Revenge is ail I ask, no meaner care, 
 Int'rest or thought has room to harbour here : 
 Destruction be my feast, and mortal wounds 
 And scenes of blood, and agonizing sounds. 
 By negroes slain, their faces to the sky, 
 All grim with gaping wounds our soldiers lie; 
 These call to war, and might my soul incite, 
 Now, now, this instant should conclude the fight: 
 Then, all our foes destroy'd, let generous bowls, 
 And copious bumpers glad our weary souls. 
 Let not our palates know the taste of food 
 Till our insatiate rage be cloy'd.with blood. 
 Brave heroes, valiant solders fight for fame 3 
 
XA* 159 
 
 God bids us fight, and 'twas with God we came, 
 And ne'er forget what was your dread before, 
 The fierce, the mighty princes fight no more." 
 
 The sable warriors saw their bulwark fall, 
 A peal of groans that moment broke from all; 
 One universal solemn plaint began, 
 They bore like heroes but they felt like men, 
 Each iook'd on other, stupid with surprise, 
 All mute, but seem'd to question with their eyes; 
 They sigh'd, they mourn'd, their last defender sialic 
 But ah, forlorn, they mourn* d and sigh'd in vain. 
 All wrapp'd in grief they see their victor die, 
 Their courage flags and they prepare to fly; 
 Now mighty Sambo first the silence broke, 
 And inly groaning, thus opprobrious spoke; 
 
 " Warriors, for shame, oh! scandal of your race' 
 Whose coward souls your manly forms disgrace, 
 How great our s*hame when ev'ry age shall know 
 That not a hero met the murd'rous foe ! 
 Go, moulder to the earth from whence you g\e\v. 
 A heartless, spiritless, inglorious crew; 
 Be what you seem, inanimated clay, 
 Myself will dare the danger of the day 
 T'avenge Mondingo I myself willtry^' 
 For in the hand of Jove is victory. 
 Whither oh, warriors, whither would you run, 
 And shun the foe, whom 'tis in vain to shun' 
 GrievM tho* you he, wil g*it forego, 
 
 Leav ¥ relentless 
 
160 AVENIA. 
 
 How shall alas, our hoary heroes mourn, 
 Their sons degenerate, and their race a scorn, 
 What tears shall down thy silver beard be roll'd, 
 Oh, Zango — old in arms, in wisdom old; 
 Once with what joy the generous king would hear, 
 Of evry chief victorious in the war, 
 Participate their fame, and pleased enquire, 
 Each name, each action, and each heroe's sire; 
 Oh, should he see our warriors trembling standi 
 Yea, trembling all before the christ'an band. 
 Mow would he lift his aged arms on high, 
 Lament his coward chiefs and beg to die. 
 Ah, would immortal Jove his youth renew, 
 Yon tyrants then would find an equal foe." 
 Stung to the heart each generous hero hears 
 And the reproof, so just, in silence bears, 
 Th'inteprid chief then thunders his commands 
 His speech arouses all the mournful bands, 
 Revives their ardour, turns their steps from flight 
 And wakes anew the dying flames of fight. 
 New force, new spirit to each breast returns* 
 The fight renew'd with fiercer fury burns ; 
 All prodigal of life, to fight they fly, 
 All nobly fix'd to conquer or to die . 
 And now the hosts with furious spite engage , 
 And burns the fight with mndistmgulsh'd rage. 
 While man to man, and breast to breast opr 
 
AVEN1A. 161 
 
 A£ when tlie winds from different waters rise, 
 -Pour to the charge, and combat in the skies,, 
 Til dire suspense the struggling tempests keep, 
 The balanced clouds, and pois'd the rolling deep; 
 The winds and waves oppos'd with, equal might, 
 Still undecid'd hangs th' xrealfight: 
 So join'd both armies in the dreadful fray, 
 These scorn'd to yield, nor those could win the day, 
 .All, man to man, exert their martial fire, 
 All, foot to foot, or conquer or expire. 
 Now bleeds the battle, and large hills of slain, 
 And sable warriors cover wide the plain, 
 In one red deluge all the field is drown d, 
 And cries and agonizing groans resound, 
 Of sable heroes lab'ring out their breath, 
 And chieftains gasping in the pangs of death. 
 Resolv'd to die, th' opposing champions stood, 
 And bath*d their hostile breasts in mutual blood. 
 No room to poise the lance, or bend the bow, 
 But hand to hand, and man to man ther grow; 
 So when two scales are charged with doubtful loads", 
 From side to side the trembling balance nods, 
 Whilst the laborious widow, just tho' poor, 
 With nice exactness weighs her wooly store, 
 Till pois'd aloft, the resting beam suspends, 
 Lach equal weight, nor this, nor that descends. 
 And now the warriors seek each other's hearts, 
 With. boat-hooks, axes, pikes and shorten'd darts, 
 S2 
 
162 AVENIA. 
 
 The faulchions ring, on sculls the axes sound, 
 Swords flash in air, or glitter on the ground, 
 With smoking blood, and brains the fields are dy r 3. 
 And slaughtered heroes swell the dreadful tide; 
 And tho* o'er pow'rd by numbers, still the crew, 
 join, thicken, and the bloody fight renew; 
 Their manly breasts are fuTd with many a wound, 
 Loud strokes are heard, and tinkling arms resound. 
 So thro* the thrilling vale, or mountain ground, 
 The labours of the wobdman's axe resound, 
 Blows following blows are heard, re-echoing wide^ 
 While crackling forests fall on ev'ry side. 
 Still the intrepid heroes scorn to fly, 
 And e'er they lose their liberty, they die. 
 So the slow ass, with stubborn strength endu'd, 
 In some wild field, by troops of boys pursu'd, 
 Tho' round his sides a wooden tempest rain, 
 Crops the tall harvest and lays waste the plain; 
 Thick on his side the hollow blows resound, 
 The stubborn animal maintains his ground. 
 The hoary sage o'er whelm'd with black despair. 
 Now lifts to heav*n an interrupted prayer, 
 Exhorts his men, and now with threats commands., 
 And urges all with voice, and eyes, and hands; 
 
 " Ye sons of Africa, once bold and brave, 
 This day your wives and weeping infants save; 
 Haste warriots, haste! preserve the sinking state, 
 Or one vast burst of all involves fate, 
 
AVENIA. 163 
 
 Full o'er your town will fall, and sweep away 
 
 Sons, sires and wive*;, an undistinguish'dprey; 
 
 Rouse all yourpowr's, ye Africans to fight, 
 
 And die or conquer ere the approaching night.'' 
 
 The rev'rend Sambo thus obtests the skies, 
 
 And weeps his country with a father's eyes. 
 
 Around the aged chief an harvest grows* 
 
 Of swords, and pikes, while blood in torrents flows. 
 
 And ere bright Sol had hid behind the main, 
 
 Dire conquest rested on the Christian train. 
 
 Tho' vanquished, yet the warriors scorn'd to fly # 
 
 All firmly fought, and each resolv'd to die, 
 
 No sable hero liv'd the news to tell; 
 
 None 'scap'd by flight, but all in battle fell. 
 
 From realms of light, the immortal povv'rs inclin'd, 
 Their eyes, and mourn'd the havoc of mankind 1 
 Here ruddy cherubs, blushing seraphs there, 
 Lean forward from the sky, and view the war; 
 Shaded in clouds, in robes transparent clad, 
 And ev'n in bliss, majestically sad. 
 
 Now night enshrouds the deeps, the sun retires, 
 The heavn's flash thick with momentary fires; 
 Loud thunders shake the poles, from place to place, 
 Grim death appears, and glares in ev'ry face. 
 High o'er the scene of death now Hawkins wood, 
 And glutted his inhuman eyes with blood, 
 Yet still insatiate, still with rage on flame, 
 is the honour of the Christian namje. 
 T 
 
164 AVElsUA. 
 
 Around their chief the red battalions stand; 
 A fierce, bloodthirsty, hypocritic band. 
 
 •* Brave officers (he cries) let each contend, 
 Nor seek a respite till the shades descend; 
 Till darkness, or till death shall cover all, 
 Prolong the war, till every negro fall. 
 "Who dares inglorious in his ship to stay, 
 Who dares to linger on this closing, day,. 
 That wretch, too mean to fall by human powY,. 
 The birds shall mangle, and the dogs devour: 
 Then seize tV occasion, now the town survey, 
 And lead to slaughter^ Heaven directs tht way; 
 His sep'rate troops let ev'ry captain call, 
 Each strengthen eafrh, and all encourage all 
 Pwous'd at his words, \all wedg'd in firm array r 
 Strait to the town theVssassins urg'd their ttray 
 Not fiercer rush along the gloomy wood, 
 Vv*it\i rage insatiate, and with thirst of blood, 
 Vcrr.ckns hounds, that many a length before, 
 Urg'd by fierce hunters, drove the wounded boar 
 Their pelfsVtl faukhions glittering in the air. 
 As round the rampart rose, the furious war. 
 The ruffians rush into the town and slay, 
 The sabie citizens that cross their way, 
 Now speed the hissing darts, the JavTins fly. 
 In iron clouds that blot the dark'ning sky; 
 And to complete and aggravate their fears, 
 A new mischance involved the town in tears* 
 
ES'IA. 165 
 
 For when rhe v*retched queen beheld on high, 
 
 Tine clouds of jav'lius intercept the sky; 
 
 Her sons destroyed, the shouting tyrants near, 
 
 Nor brave JMondingo in the fight appear: 
 
 She raves against the heav'ns in wild despair, 
 
 And curses all the authors of the war, 
 
 A thousand plaints she vented o'er and o'er, 
 
 And in her rage, her royal garment to»e, 
 
 Hating, in madness of extreme despair, 
 
 To view the light, or breathe the vital air, 
 
 While from her heaving sable bosom broke, 
 
 A deep, deep groan, and thus the mother spoke : 
 
 M Ah, me, why do I view the glorious light, 
 My sons all murder'd in the bloody fight; 
 
 let me now this hated moment go, 
 To embrace my dear, dear boys, in shades below." 
 Then on a lofty beam the matron ty'd, 
 A fatal noose, aod there suspended dy'd» 
 
 can while a peal of groans to heav'n arise, 
 Confusion, clamours, thicken in the skies, 
 •Tis tumult all, for all at mice advise; 
 Some to implore the Christian's pity bring, 
 out the town, the helpless aged king, 
 E head thin scattered o'er with silver hairs, 
 Who thus to heav'n prefers his tender prayers: 
 4< Oh, Jove, if still thine eyes with wonted grace, 
 :>ur miserable dying race, 
 
166 AVENIA. 
 
 Suppress our foes, forbid them to destroy*, 
 My last, my brave, my poor unhappy boy, 
 And mylovM people's liberty and joy. 
 But if our crimes, almighty sire, demand, 
 The last dread vengeance of thy wrathful hand, 
 On me, and me alone that vengeance shed, 
 And withthv ievell'd thunder strike me dead.'* 
 The monarch thus, while the keen sorrows flow, 
 Down his silver beard, white as the spotless snow, 
 He apnroach'd Leclerc* and lowly bow'd his head, 
 Prostrate his body in the dust he laid. 
 The aged sire before the chief appear*, 
 iTis knaes embraces, bathes his hands in tears, 
 Those direful hands his kisses press'd, embru'd, 
 Ev'n with the best, the dearest of his blood! 
 The soldiers vie w'd him speechless with surprize, 
 All fixing on him their enquiring eyes, 
 Each look'd on other, none the silence broke, 
 Till thus at length the kingly suppliant spoke. 
 " Think of thy father, and this face behold, 
 See him in me, as helpless and as old, 
 Tho' not so wretched, there he yields to me, 
 The first of men in sovereign misery; 
 Thus forc'd to kneel, thus grovling to embrace, 
 The scourge and ruin of my realm and race: 
 Suppliant, my children's murdVer to implore. 
 And kiss those handff yet reeking with their gore, 
 No comfort of my griefs, no hopes remain, 
 

 AVLNU. 167 
 
 -: hei>est, the bravest of my sons are slain. 
 For my poor people now I've bent my way. 
 For them thus prostrate at thy feet I lay; 
 Large gifts proportion'd to thy rank I'll bear, 
 Oh! hear the wretched, and the heavn's revere. 
 For my poor people, not myself, I pray, 
 Save them, and thus save me from misery; 
 Oh! let me die for them, thus peace restore, 
 Take all our riches, and I ask no more/' 
 While thus the aged monarch vents his woe- 
 Fast from his eyes paternal sorrows flow; 
 His words soft pity in the chief inspire, 
 Touch'd with the fond remembrance of his sire, 
 Then with his hand, as prostrate still he lay, 
 The old man's cheek he gently turn'd away, 
 The rev'rendTather by the hand he rais'd, 
 On his white beard, and form majestic gaz'd, 
 Not unrelenting then serene began 3 
 With words to sooth the miserable man: 
 
 *■'■ Alas! what weight of anguish hast thou known, 
 Unhappy king, thus guardless and alone, 
 To pass thro* foes, and thus undanted face, 
 The men whose fury has. destroy 'd thy race; 
 Heav'n sure has arm'd thee with a heart of steel, 
 A strength proportion'd to the woes you feel! 
 Rise then, let reason mitigate thy care, 
 To mourn avails not, man is born to bear; 
 The happiest taste not happiness sincere, 
 
 r 2 
 
168 AVENIA.. 
 
 But find the cordial draught oft dash'd with care* 
 What must be, must he; bear thy lot, nor shed 
 Those unavailing sorrows o'er the dead; 
 Thou canst not call them from th' eternal shore. 
 But thou, alas, may'st live to suffer more." 
 
 Now next the weeping king to Hawkins cries: 
 u Here let me die, since my Louvertare, lies 
 Yet in the town, depriv'd of obsequies. 
 Alas, he's slain beneath thy soldier's steel, 
 Unhappy, in his country's cause he fell, 
 Ah, pity my poor people, peace restore 
 And let them feel the curse of war no more: 
 So shall thy mercy and forbearance give 
 A wretched prince to see the light and Live.'* 
 Hawkins, inflexible by prayers or tears, 
 Harden'd remain'd, for guilt had clos'd his ears. 
 The monster rais'd his sword, prepared to wound, 
 The suppliant king extended on the ground: 
 
 " Move me no more (the Christian thus replies) 
 While kindling anger sparkled in his eyes- 
 Release my knees, thy fawning arts give o'er 
 Else soon thy blood shall drench the purple shore;''. 
 He spake; and while the king prepared to say 
 The ruthless sabre took his head away; 
 His arms embrac'd the ruffian's knees no more,. 
 Zango the great lay protrate on the shore! 
 So when the bolt, red hissing from above, 
 Darts on the aged oak in sylvan grove, 
 

 AVEN1A- 16'9 
 
 The monarch tree in flaming ruin lies 
 
 Black from the blow, and smokes of sulphur rise; 
 
 Stiff with amaze the pale beholders stand, 
 
 And own the terrors of th* almighty hand. 
 
 Now rushing to the town, the monarch kill'd, 
 
 They leave awhile the sanguinary field, 
 
 In close array to seek the nodding town, 
 
 While with their trampling feet the fields resound. 
 
 The city now th* advancing host appals, 
 
 As with swift pace th' approach the verdant walls, 
 
 And from the house-tops, lol the matrons spy 
 
 Their monarch slain, while clamours rend the sky. 
 
 He who round Africa sent his commands, 
 
 And stretch'd his empire o'er the distant lands., 
 
 Now lay a headless carcass on the shore, 
 
 The man, the monarch, and the rrame no more/ 
 
 Soon as this tragic scene appear'd in view, 
 
 M r arm'd by their sovereign's love, the women flew, 
 
 And from the town a storm of lances threw 
 
 With hardened clubs th' advancing foe they dare, 
 
 And with tough staves, repel the rising war; 
 
 Old men, boys, maids and dames, with martial fire 
 
 Rush on, and for their king with joy and pride ex- 
 
 pire. 
 The slaughtering swords of their victorious foes, 
 In vain the dames and fiery youths oppose; 
 The troops rush furious thro* the verdant gate, 
 Nor can the hoary sages shun their fate; 
 
170 AFENIA.m 
 
 In vain for shelter to each house they fly, 
 Ev'n there transfix'd in heaps they bleed and die. 
 Some with clos'd doors exclude the social train, 
 Who beg admission to each house in vain; 
 Here hoary dames, amid the general woe, 
 Bending with age, are slaughter'd by the foe; 
 There infants bleed before their parents' eyes> 
 With piercing shrieks and lamentable cries, 
 Held by their little feet, and whirl' d around, 
 They dash their batter'd brains against the ground; 
 Some pierce the children with the ruthless spear, 
 And whirl the screaming babes aloft in air, 
 Their weeping mothers hear their screams arise, 
 And view their darlings quiv'ring in the skies; 
 Maids, on their bended knees, for mercy call, 
 Mow'd by the sword their heads yet muttering fall; 
 Nor age nor youth is spar'd— the pregnant-dame 
 With her untimely infant .press the plain. 
 And all the difference of their fates is here, 
 That one the sword destroys and one the spear. 
 Some climb the house to shun the fate below, 
 And when pursu'd, leap headlong on the foe, 
 But far within the royal rooms disclose 
 Scenes far more bloody, yet more direful woes. 
 Each roof reverberates with. female cries, 
 And the shrill echo strikes the distant skies. 
 The trembling mothers fly from place to place, 
 And press their infants in a last embrace; 
 
1 
 
 TV affrighted babes, amidst the dire alarms, 
 Now seek for refuge in their mother's arms. 
 The dome now Hawkins storms with martial fire 
 The barriers hurst, the female guards retire; 
 The shattered doors the thund'ring ruffians ply. 
 The doors leap back, the sounding hinges fly 
 The war breaks in, loud shout the hostile train, 
 Each house is ransacked, and its tenants slain. 
 Rous'd at the deaf'ning peal that roars around, 
 The sable children listen to the scund: 
 Thus o'er the corn while furious winds conspire, 
 Rolls on a wild, devouring flame of fire, 
 Bursts thro* the forests, gains the mountain's brow 
 Then pours and thunders down the vale below; 
 Consumes the fields, lays waste the golden grain, 
 And all the farmer's labours are in vain- - 
 Stunn'd at the din, the swain with tingling ears.. 
 From some steep rock the raging ruin hears. 
 Young Zandy caught the sound of general woe, 
 And the' a child, prepar'd to meet the foe; 
 Twice five years old, bless'd with his father's fire. 
 And good Lcwoerture was the stripling's sire: 
 The youthful hero saw his sire laid la 
 And his pavilion crowded by the foe; 
 Eager his father's murd'rers to engage, 
 Loads with his former arms his infant age, 
 Girds on his formidable sword in vain, 
 And waits to meet the vengeful Christian - 
 U 
 
172 AVENIA. 
 
 Within his father's bouse prepared to die, 
 Whose corpse, not yet inter'd, lay silent by; 
 On it the sorrowing dames with art displayed 
 Their grateful gifts, and round sweet roses laid 
 Hither his widow with her children ran, ^ 
 
 Wept o'er the prince with agonizing pain, ) 
 
 And clung around the much-lov'd corpse again. 'k 
 But when in cumb'rousarms her son she spied , 
 < 6 ' Alas, my poor unhappy boy (she cried) 
 What more than madness midst these dire alarm?, 
 Mov'd thee to guard thy infant age with arms* 
 No aid like thine this dreadful hour demands, 
 But asks for other strength, for other handr. 
 No, could thy own brave fagier arm again, 
 S'vn thy brave father now would arm in v 
 Stay by his corpse, and here we all shall have 
 One common refuge, or one common gray 
 
 This said, her elder son the dame embra-~ 
 And by the sacred corpse the stripling plac'd, 
 When lo, another of Louyerture's sons 
 Thro* darts and foes from slaughtering Hawkins runs 
 Wounded, he traverses the lonesome dome, 
 Darts swiftly on and shoots from room to roojx 
 Close, close behind pursuM the furious foe, 
 just grasp'd the lad, arid aim'd the fatal blow^ 
 Soon as within his mother's sight he pass'd 
 Pierc'd by the ruthless steel he breath'd his 
 SixvAtf the scene unable to suJrVtev, 
 
AVENIA* \7< 
 
 Tho' death turrounds her gives her fury way- 
 11 And oh, may Jove the violated God, 
 Barbarian! thank thee for this deed of blood, 
 And as he lives such actions to regard, 
 Oh, may he give thy guilt the full reward* 
 Guilt that a mother's sacred eyes denl'd 
 With blood, the blood of her dear rnurder'd child, 
 She spake, and Zandy's arm assay'dto throw 
 The dull dead jav'lin, that scarce reached the toe, 
 The weapon languishingly JagrgM along, 
 And guiltless on the ground it faintly rung- 
 The dastard chief with an unmanly blow 
 with a mortal wound the infant foe, 
 Then from the mother's arms the babe he tore. 
 And dash'd its brains against the bloody floor; 
 And then the monster dragg'd the mother on, 
 Thro' the warm blood that issu'd from her son, 
 Struggling and sliding in the slippery gore, 
 And to a private room the victim bore; 
 And while the matron wept her children slain, 
 Fresh wrongs oppres'd the violated dame! 
 iatia- lie grasps her sable hairs, 
 
 And in tierce rage the ruthless blade he rears; 
 Then to the hilt with all his force appiy'd 
 He pic i'ore in his side. 
 
 the fate unhappy Sylvan found, 
 With hrr poor infants slaughter'd on the giei a 
 
174, AVENIA. 
 
 Fraudful Leclerc how bears the spoils away, 
 And guards with watchful care the gathered prey , 
 In one vast heap Louvertwe's weal is roll'd, 
 Gold dust and iv*ry mixM with nmssy gold. 
 
 Now on the mangled dead the murd'rer stood, 
 Frowning revenge, and covered o'er with blood, 
 Crimes, frauds, and murders were his chief delight 
 The rage of death and slaughter of the fight. 
 Beneath a bed, and trembling with dismay, 
 CouchM close eight mothers with their in far 
 Wrapp'd in a Leopard's and a Lion's hide. 
 The foe approach'd, they cast the screen a 
 Sprung to the chief, embraced his kntes in teats* 
 And with these words addres'd his hardened 
 
 *' Lo, at thy feet see hapless infants fall 
 And with their mothers loud for mercy call; 
 Oh, gracious hear, nor let our infants bleed, 
 All innocence in thought, in word and deed/' 
 
 " Die^wretches die, your suppliant arts give oYr 
 To me no negro need for grace implore. 
 The hour t' avenge our soldiers now is come. 
 Impending fate is yours, and instant doom; 
 Not all the gold in your detested town 
 With all in Africa joinMwith your ov= 
 If ofFer'd for you should for mercy call, 
 Tis negroes offer, and I scorn them all." 
 
 Thus speaking; from a lofty tree he strun 
 A ship's tough rope that to another hung; 
 Near the high boughs he strain'd it strongly round, 
 
JLVENIA. \7l 
 
 Whence no contending foot could {ouch the ground? 
 Their necks tied up, connected in a row, 
 Both babes and mothers, spectacles of woe, 
 All be*t the air with quiv*ring feet below. 
 Soon fled their harmless souls, and left behind 
 The lifeless bodies wav'ring with the wind. 
 
 A sage there was and Can do was he nam'd, 
 For virtue much, but more for wisdom fam'd, 
 He, feeling for his town a patriot's love, 
 Essay'd the Christian's rocky heart to move? 
 Bending with age advanc'd the mournful man, 
 Propp'd on his staff, and weeping thus began- 
 
 " Still undishonour'd, or by word or deed 
 Behold thy suppliant, nor let him bleed, 
 Enough are ye aveng'd, enough redress'd, 
 Our army slain, in pity spare the rest! 
 Ah! spare the babes, nor number with the dead, 
 The old man's silver hairs, and revVend head." 
 
 " Detested savage! (cruel Hawkins cries) 
 Our soldiers slain, whoever meets me dies, 
 Laws, or divine cr human, ne'er can move, 
 Or shame of man, or dread of God above! 
 Heedless alike of censure or of praise, 
 Revenge I'll have, prepare to end thy days." 
 Straitway the eager soldiers then began, 
 Their bloody work; they chipp'd away the man, 
 Morsels for dogs, then trimm'd with brazen shear*, 
 
U6 AVENIA. 
 
 And then deprived him of his nose and ears: 
 His hands and feet last felt the dreadful steel, 
 He roar'd, and with his mighty torments felL 
 And now a thought in Ifawkin's mind arose, 
 Most worthy of a demon to disclose, 
 For, tir'd of slaughter, from the sable train, 
 Twelve chosen maids he drags along the plain- 
 Waeping and naked, trembling with their woe, 
 In tears they follow their relentless foe; 
 He with their belts, their captive arms constrains, 
 Late their proud ornaments, but now their chains, 
 And while the youthful maidens quivering stood* 
 He stuck their bodies thick with lighted wood, 
 To which a flaming torch the ruffian threw, 
 And round the maids the fire congenial flew: 
 Strait to the town they speed with mad alarms, 
 And oft they cry for help with outstretched arms. 
 As when in parting spires the flame divides, 
 And crackling climbs around the caldron's sides, 
 In the deep womb, grow fierce the hissing stream.s, 
 Boil, swell, and foam and bubble o'er the brims; 
 The mad'ning maids with pain superior stung, 
 Thus rush'd in flames, amid the astonish'd throng. 
 Now spread around the dreadful hissing flames, 
 And fir'd the houses, youths and screaming dames s 
 While round the town the taunting tyrants flew, 
 Tg keep them in, an iron harvest grew, 
 
M- 177 
 
 They poise their threat'ning spears while clamour rise 
 And trembling shrieks tumultuous rend the skies. 
 The curling flames with joy the Christians view'd, 
 Saw infants with their parents gasp in blood; 
 Yea, with delight they view'd the flames arise, 
 And wretched Congb mounting to the skies; 
 The fire rapacious overwhelm it all, 
 The works of thousands in a moment fall. 
 So when upon the shore, an infant stands, 
 And draws imagin'd houses on the sand, 
 The sportive wanton pleas'd with some new play, 
 Sweeps the slight works and fashion'd domes away- 
 With headlong speed the imprisoned dames retire, 
 Throng in huge heaps and strive to shun the fire. 
 They look around for help, they cry in vain, 
 And beg for mercy to ihe Christian train. 
 Fast from without the watchful ruffians threw, 
 Lance after lance, and gall r d the scorching foe* 
 The maid and matron, and the babe and sire, 
 Steep'din each other's blood in heaps expire; 
 The screaming mother with distraction wild, 
 Hugs to the breast her poor expiring child. 
 Each house in flames, their roofs incumbent lay, 
 The beams now burst, the crackling walls give way 
 The pond'rous piles come thund'ring to the ground, 
 While distant forests echo to the sound. 
 As when an aged oak, whose honours rise, 
 
 i mountain, towring to the skies,. 
 
178 AVENIA. 
 
 With many an axe, by shouting swains is plyM, 
 Fiercely repeating strokes from ev'ry side. 
 The tall tree trembling as the blows go round, 
 Bows the high head, and nods to every wound; 
 At last, quite vanquish'd, with a dreadful peal, 
 In one loud groan, rolls crashing down the vale; 
 Headlong with half the shatter'd mountain flies, 
 And stretched out huge in length, the unmeasu/M 
 
 ruin lies. 
 Thus with their town fell all the sable train, 
 
 WrappM in the smoking ruins on the plain; 
 Their souls crush'd out the mothers buried lie, 
 And in their arms the harmless infants die. 
 Now to the woods the hissing torrents pour, 
 Drink up the blood, the crackling trees devour; 
 The piles of dead are roasted on the plain, 
 While in red volumes spreads tbe dreadful flame. 
 Swift on the sedgy reeds the ruin preys, 
 Around the fountains winds the running blaze, 
 The groves in flaming rows to ashes turn, 
 7'he jess'min bower, and the tam'rickburn. 
 Broad elms and cypress rising in a spire, 
 With watry willows hiss before the fire; 
 The quadrupeds and reptiles pant for breath. 
 And unfledg'd birds twist in the pangs of death. 
 Still fierce the conflagration blazes round, 
 The falling forests yield a thund'ring sound; 
 Wi.de on the ships the bright reflection play^ 
 
VIA 17* 
 
 s redden with the distant blaze. 
 
 I ^hudier'd to behold the dreadful scene, 
 And Satj.ii blus'i'd to own the Christian train, 
 
 tlj groan'd, heaven dropta tear to see such woe, 
 ;\nd the dire slaughter of the barb'rous foe, 
 And e'en the fierce, tyrannic, vengeful train, 
 Behold with horror the terrific scene. 
 As pale with guilt the murdVers viewM frhe sight. 
 The blushing sun roll'd down the rapid light, 
 And pi ung'd beneath the purpled western sea, 
 panting steeds that drew the golden day. 
 And now Jehovah on his azure throne 
 With just resentment views the burning town, 
 Each shrink: he hears, and notes each silent groan. 
 While twilight veils the glaring face of da.) , 
 And clothes the vallies in a solemn grey. 
 
 dmighty frowns, and lo, his heralds fly, 
 While rev 7 rend horror silences the sky; 
 The Christian's guilt th' angelic host alarms 
 Vengeance is on the wing, and heav'n in arms.- 
 And lo, a murky cioud Jehovah forms, 
 
 v. *er their heads, and blackens heav'n with storms 
 Night dwells o'er all the plain, and now out-flies 
 The gloomy west, and whistles in the skies, 
 The rude winds madden the tremendous flame, 
 That spreads sonorous o'er the distant plain. 
 Now heav'n gave signs of wrath; along the ground 
 CryMthe red blood, and with a bellowing sound 
 U 2 
 
180 AfENIA. 
 
 Roar*d the dead limbs, the burning entrails groaivd. 
 God hears the groan, and as his eye surveys 
 The town in flames, the sliips and shining seas, 
 He in an instant bids his whirlwinds fly* 
 To wing his em'raid chariot thro 1 the skyj 
 He mounts, and lo, the starry reins he takes, 
 The steadfast firmament beneath him shakes, 
 Drawn by the heavenly steeds the chariot roll'd 
 Bright were the steeds, and circlimfus'd with goldj 
 Suns, stars and comets fring'd the god's array, 
 That blazing flashed intolerable day. 
 High on his throne he shines, his coursers fly 
 From the third heav'n and thunder down the 3 
 Black clouds all fring'd with gold his throne surround 
 While lightnings flash., and bellowing thunders scuih!. 
 Astonish'd angels his descent behold, 
 While awful silence fills their thrones of gold, 
 Around his chariot from the realms on high 
 UnnumberM hosts of radiant heralds fly, 
 As some way- faring man, who wanders o'er 
 In thought, a length of land he trod before, 
 Sends forth his active mind from place to place, 
 joins hill to dale, and measures space with space ; 
 Thus swift, and swifter far the steeds obey, 
 Sustain his flight, snd sweep th* sereal way. 
 Surrounding worlds from their foundations notf . 
 And tremble at the presence of their God. 
 
rENIA. 181 
 
 All nature shakes, and with a dreadful sound, 
 Air thunders, rolls the ocean, groans the ground. 
 
 Now in one deluge of impetuous rain, 
 All heav'ns dark concave, "rushes down amain, 
 Fierce and more fierce the mighty whirlwinds rise, 
 While streams of lightning, fringe the sable skies. 
 Heav'ns king himself, whom dreadful darkness 
 
 shrouds, 
 Pavilion'd in the thickness of the clouds, 
 With lightning, arm'd his red right hand puts forth, 
 And shakes with burning bolts the solid earth. 
 The tyrants shrink appal'd, the beasts are fled, 
 All human hearts are sunk, and pierc'd with dread: 
 He strikes the tow'ring mountain's lofty crown, 
 It nods, and in an instant tumbles down. 
 Loud howl the winds, and hoarse the thunders roar, 
 While God in anger smkes the trembling shore; 
 Fierce at the ruffians heads a bolt he aims, 
 Red with uncommon wrath, and wrapp'd in flames; 
 Full fifty of them instantly laid . 
 And base Lecltrc now fell beneath the blow, 
 With piercing shrieks and agonizing cries, 
 They fall, and falling, close their guil y eyes: 
 So when by hollow shores the fishing tram, -^ 
 
 Sweep with their arching nets the hoary main, C 
 
 And scarce the snares the finny draughts contain. 3 
 All naked of their element, and bare, 
 The fishes pant, and gasp in thinnei 
 
182 AVENIA. 
 
 Wide o'er the sands are spread the stiffening prey, 
 Till the warm sun exhales their life away. 
 The Christians heard their gen'ral shriek aloud, 
 And chill/ fear congeal'd their vital blood. 
 They saw him fall, and lo! his satin vest 
 Shook with his sighs, and quiv'red on his breast : 
 Struck with dismay, and meditating flight, 
 Aghast they startle at the horrid sight. 
 So the pale swain, who treads upon a snake, 
 Unseen and lurking in the gloomy brake; 
 Soon as his swelling spires in circles play, 
 Starts back and shoots precipitate away-* 
 And as when slumber seals the closing sight, 
 The sick, wild fancy lab'ring in the night. 
 Some dreadful visionary foe we shun, 
 With airy strides, but strive in vain to run. 
 In vain our baffled limbs their pow'rs essay, 
 We faint, we stagger, sink, and fall away; 
 jDrain'd of our strength we neither stand nor fly, 
 And on the tongue the struggling accents die-' 
 The foe thus labour and with fruitless pain, 
 Fall as they fly, and crown the heaps of slain. 
 . And trampled by their friends, with many a stride** 
 Who urge their course to where their vessels rid«: 
 And gasping, shuddering, reel along the plain, 
 With heavier strides, to reach their boats again. 
 No stop, no stay, no thought to ask or tell, 
 } 'scap'd by flight,, or who by lightning fell, 
 
AVE XI A. 183 
 
 • Twas tumult all, and violence of flight, 
 A. sudden horror mix'd with wild affright; 
 Till pale and panting they had reach'd the main, 
 And trembling skulk'd within their ships again* 
 Here, as in conscious guilt they shiv'ring lay, 
 And anxious waited the return of day; 
 A thousand thoughts obtruded on the mind, 
 In quick succession, varying as the wind. 
 They retrospect the past, the future view 
 In horrid prospect. Scenes start up anew: 
 Their murder'd fellow men, their injurM God; 
 His slighted mercy; his vindictive rod. 
 
AVENIA. 
 BOOK V. 
 
 ■j^r ^fc -3f£ 3fc •fr 7}^ 3jc ^c tf£ *5fc 9Jr tp t^t Tfr -^c Tfr yfc ^c 7)6 ^ 3fc $fc 3fc "Jfr /£■ "^ 
 
 V2 
 
£>$» 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Uthe first dawn the si: i&chors and s 
 
 the West Indies— -Dissipation of the mariners, and wretch- 
 edness of the slaves contrasted —A tornado overtakes them— - 
 Admiral's ship with three others founder and all hands perish, 
 the remainder steer for Grenada, where they arrive after a 
 passage of fifty-six diys-«Distres3 of the slaves at seeing 
 the town— They are landed, and whipped in droves to market, 
 Relatives sold to different purchasers: are violently separated, 
 never to see each other again-Arrive on the plantations— Their 
 labour— Food— Wretehcd habitations— -A VENIA is violated 
 by her master — Her lamentations—- She commits suicide, by 
 plunging from a high roch into the o;: 
 
AVENIA, 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 NOW had the stars, diininish'd, fled away, 
 Before the glories of the dawning day, 
 When the commander of the Christian host, 
 The signal gave to leave the flaming coast. 
 Soon as Aurora reb'd in purple light, 
 Pierc'd with her golden shaft.' the rear 
 And ere bright Sci from ocean's briny bed, 
 
 Vd his glorious radiated head, 
 Mounted above the re-illiimm'd main, 
 And darted o'er the lawn, his horizontal beam; 
 ritoil, their anchors all atrip, 
 ilant breeze, impels each tilting ship, 
 now unmoorM the tyrants launch to sea, 
 And pale with guilt, commence their wat'ry way. 
 As in her nest within some cavern hung, 
 The dove sits brooding o'er her callow young, 
 Till rons'd at last by some impetuous shock, 
 She starts surpriz'd, 2nd beats around the rock; 
 
188 AVENIA. 
 
 Then to the open fields for refuge flies, 
 
 And the free bird expatiates in the skies; 
 
 Her pinions pois'd thro* liquid air she springs, 
 
 And smoothly glides, nor moves her level wings, 
 
 So did the vessels their swift course pursue, 
 
 And gain d new force and swiftniss as they flew. 
 
 Swift as they sail, the waters fly before, 
 
 And dash'd beneath the ships the surges roar; 
 
 The tars in haste their topsails all unbind, 
 
 Then sheet them'home, and stretch them to the wind; 
 
 High o'er the roaring waves the spacious sails, 
 
 Bow the taU mastr> .nd swell before the gales, 
 
 Each crooked ste the parting surge divides, 
 
 And to the stern retreating roil the tides. 
 
 They now their flags, their crimson flags unbind* 
 
 To tow'r a loft and swell before the wind; 
 
 The long proud -pendants with the milkwhite sails, 
 
 From the high masts, invite the swelling gales; 
 
 Past sight of shore, along the surge they bound, 
 
 And all above is sky, and ocean all around- 
 
 The cann of grog the boy obsequious brings, 
 
 To tars more welcome than translucent springs, 
 
 Luxurious now they feast, observant round, 
 
 Gay stripling youths, the brimming bumpers crown'd, 
 
 The purple vintage now allures their taste, 
 
 They quaff the wine, and then devour the feast. 
 
 In deep debauch they drown their guilty fears, 
 
 And bury in oblivion all their cares. 
 
I A. 189 
 
 th' imperious hypocritic croud, 
 With insolence, and wine elate and loud. 
 Give three proud cheers, denoting victory, 
 And fill again i( To Heav'n and liberty.' ' 
 
 n*d by the ships, >he foaming surges ribe, 
 x\nd with their shouts, the sailors rend the skies. 
 While peals of loud applause from ev'ry side 
 The navy flew, and shot along the tide. 
 Enslav'd humanity , the sacred load! 
 
 ms of Adam, who's the son of God! 
 Oppress'd with anguish, pain and mighty wot, 
 Down their b'ack cheeks, the tori v riv'lets flow; 
 Their hopes, their joys, all premat ;ly gone! 
 Wretched, alas, abandon'd, and undone. 
 Of friends, of peace, of smiling comforts left, 
 And all their dear delights on earth bereft; 
 While here, for shady groves and verdant bow'rs. 
 For pleasant walks, and beds of fragrant flow'rs; 
 They find a floating dungeon on the main, 
 Chiins, hunger, : mtagion, woe. asd pain; 
 
 I music's sweet melodious sound, 
 Repeated yells ami deadly groans go round; 
 
 mighty scourge, and mightier voice of pain, 
 8 iron fetter and the clanking chain. 
 And for the joyful faces of their friends, 
 • see, inhuman forms, terrific fiends 
 ousand nameless terrors, lag behind, 
 confusion, frenzy sieze the min£. 
 
i9o JiVENIA* 
 
 \ maid amongst the captives, Lama, nam*d, 
 For beauty much, but more for virtue fam'd, 
 While down her cheeks the copious sorrows flow, 
 In loud laments, thus deprecates her woe? 
 
 " No more my friends, we'll view the flow'ry field, 
 •\njoy the various scents the meadows yield; 
 Farewel ye forests, vales and verdant hills, 
 Ye sylvan bowers, and ye tinkling rills; 
 Ye scented groves, to which I usM. to run, 
 And find a shelter from the burning sun; 
 Ye fields alas, my native fields, adieu! 
 Whose charming flow'rs my early labours knew, 
 
 Where, when an infant, I was wont to stray. 
 And gather daisies at the call of day; 
 These fragrant fields I see, or think I see, 
 Like willows weep, or seem to weep, for me; 
 The warbling linnet, too forgets to sing, 
 And the sweet gold -finch flags the painted wing. 
 No more I'll bless the incense-breathing gale, 
 Nor gaze enchanted on the enaraeUM vale. 
 Nor spend the joyful and the dancing hours, 
 By silver streams, or in ambrosial bow'rs '* 
 Thus those indulge their lusts, and these their woe, 
 And here the tears, and there the bumpers flow, 
 Ten guilty hours the mariners employ, 
 In impious feasting, and unhallowed joy ; 
 The twelfth arriv'd, and lo! the immortal God, 
 With anger yiewM them on the briny flood, 
 
&*• 191 
 
 iJs rise, the thunders roll, 
 
 forked lightnings flajsh'd from pole to pole. 
 
 Is o'ercharg'd with checquer'd darkness 
 spread, 
 
 7 the floods, and gathering o'er the head. 
 In haste the mariners now reef the sail, 
 While the sea whitens with the rising gale: 
 Now here, now thtre, the giddy ships are borne, 
 And all the rattling shrouds in fragments tome. 
 The night now far advanced her gloomy reign, 
 And setting stars roli*d down the azure plain. 
 Fierce and more fierce the dreadful whirlwinds rise* 
 Black clouds, and double darkness veil the skies. 
 The moon, the stars, the bright xthereal host, 
 Seem as extinct, and all their splendors lost, 
 The furious tempest blows with horrid sound, 
 The lightnings flash and thunders roar profound. 
 
 ^ails now furl'd, the sailors freeze with fears, 
 And ghastly death on ev'ry wave appears; 
 And while they mourn, the western blast prevails, 
 Breaks the firm topmasts, rends the flying sails, 
 id go the ships, the vessels leave their sides. 
 BaTC to the working waves, and roaring tides; 
 While in huge heaps the gathering surges spread, 
 And hang in mountains o'er proud Hcmkin's head: 
 i ce on his ship descends the furious blast, 
 
 ro? the shrouds, and rends them from the 
 
 and cracking as it bends, 
 
192 AVENIA. 
 
 Tears up the deck, and all at once descends. 
 Back to the stern retreating surges flow. 
 And with the surge the shattered topmasts go^ 
 The helmsman by the tumbling ruin slain, 
 Dash'd from his post, falls headlong in the main 
 Loud and more loud God bids his thunders roll, 
 The vived lightnings flash from pole to pole. 
 And now at Hawkin's head a bolt he aims, 
 And hissing, the fell bolt descends in flames, 
 Full on the ship it falls, now high, now low, 
 Toss'd and retoss'd, sbe heels beneath the blow; 
 At once into the main the crew she shook, 
 And steams sulphureous rose, and smoth'ring smoke. 
 As from a hanging rock, tremendous height, 
 T he sable crows with intercepted flight, 
 Drop endlong, scar'd, and black with sulphurous hue, 
 So from the deck are hurlM the guilty crew. 
 Now midst the angry waves they sink, they rise, «^ 
 Now lost, now seen, with shreiks and dreadful cries, > 
 They strive to gain the ship, but heav'n denies; -* 
 The low'ring heav'ns o'er the waves impend. 
 And swell'd with vengeance on three ships descend; 
 The decks are white with foam, the winds aloud, 
 Howl o*er the ships, and sing thro' ev'ry shroud 
 Now on a to w f ring arch of waves they rise, 
 HeavM on the bounding billows to the skies, 
 Then as the roaring surge retreating falls: 
 They shoot down headlong as to hell's dark wa 
 
AVENIA. 
 
 rhviee the wild waves rebellow as they rise, 
 
 Thrice mount the foaming floods, and dash the 
 
 Above the sides of three gay ships ascends, 
 
 A watry deludge, and their ribs it rends; 
 
 The waves dissolve their well compacted sides, 
 
 Which drink, at many a leak, the briny tides. 
 
 The vessels by the surge toss'd round and round, 
 
 Sunk in the whirling gulf, devour'd and drown'd- 
 
 Two from the dark abyss emerge again, 
 
 Boats, planks and treasures float along the main; 
 
 Vengeance o'ertakes them in their wooden wall, 
 
 And mounting billows overwhelm them all: 
 
 Thus four ships sink, their crews to death consigned 
 
 In tumbling billows, and a war of wind. 
 
 During the dire event, each slave remains 
 
 Seasick, oppress'd with grief, and bound in chains 
 
 Twice twenty by the hand of death set free, 
 
 And twelve, half starv'd were launch'd into the 
 
 The rest promiscuously to heav'n complain; 
 
 And strive to breathe the wholesome air again. 
 
 Down in the stinking hold they vent their woe, 
 
 And down each sable cheek the sorrows flow 
 
 Angola to his countrymen imparts, 
 
 A ray of hope, and thus revives their hearts; 
 
 " Friends we have seen more toils than nov/ v < 
 know, 
 By long experience exercised in woe, 
 And soon to these disasters shall be given, 
 rt certain period by relenting heav'n. 
 
194 AVENIA. 
 
 Think how you saw these Christians on our shore, 
 And how your friends lay welt'ring in their gore; 
 Dismiss your fears, on those misfortunes past, 
 Your minds with pleasure may reflect at last. 
 With manly patience bear your present state, 
 And with firm courage wait a better fate/' 
 The injur'd youth thus strove some hope t'imparf. 
 And hid the secret anguish of lus heart. 
 
 Mild winds succeed the storm, the sailor train, 
 Rigg their tall jury masts, and plow the main. 
 Each captain orders, and th* obedient band, 
 With due observance, wait the stern command. 
 With speed the masts they rear, with haste unbind, 
 The spacious sails, and stretch them to the wind, 
 High o'er the frothy waves the milkwhite sails 
 Drive on the ships, and swell before the gales; 
 The ships now rigg'd, and fill'd w T ith human store, 
 Intent to voyage to the Christian shore; 
 The sailors swill the grog, a cruel train, 
 And heedless shoot along th' indignant main. 
 Now pay the debt to craving nature due. 
 Their jaded strength with balmy rest renew: 
 Now interrupted slumbers vail their eyes, 
 Their cares dissolve in visionary joys. 
 Not so the slaves: the downy bands of sleep 
 Too soon relaxed, they wake again to weep. 
 A gloomy pause ensues of dumb despair, 
 And then th' invoke th' immortal powers with prayer. 
 
AVENIA. 1 9 , 
 
 Ail mfied with effluvia and with heat, 
 Half starv'd, they mourn their melancholy fate 
 Full six and fifty days the Christian crew, 
 They hateful course along the main pursue, 
 Safe thro* the level seas they force their way, 
 The steersmen govern, and the ships obey. 
 
 sun now rises, beauteous to behold, 
 And tips each lofty wave with gleams of gold 
 And as they rudely stem the briny tide, 
 And tilting o'er the sea impetuous ride; 
 Like distant clouds the mariner descries, 
 Grenada's high emerging hills arise: 
 The steersmen keep them in the liquid road. 
 And plow the various windings of the flood. 
 Clear, and more clear the swelling shore they s] 
 See the thin smc-kes that melt into the sky, 
 And blueish hills just op'ning to the eye. 
 At eve the ships approach the fatal land, 
 And in the winding bay they anchor on the sand 
 Close to the town a spacious port appears 
 Belonging to king George whose name it be 
 Two lofty mounts projecting to the main, 
 The roaring wind:, tempestuous rage restrain 
 Within, the waves in softer murmurs glide. 
 The shipi secure within the harbour ride. 
 Avenia now, overcome with black despa 
 aVn her agonizing prayer : 
 
 \ moment, heave thy 
 
196 AVENIA 
 
 And ease the torture of my achiag heart! 
 
 Oh snatch me far from this bloodthirsty race, 
 
 Toss'd thro' the vast illimitable space, 
 
 Or oh ! let thunder from some hov'ring cloud, 
 
 Transfix me, or let briny seas enshroud. 
 
 Ah, my Angola, 'tis for thee I groan, 
 
 By day I weep, by night I make my moan; 
 
 How would I welcome any fav'ring death 
 
 To ease me of the burden of my breath; 
 
 For ah ! the worst of ills is still behind, 
 
 The brutal conduct of the Christian kind. 
 
 Sure nature first in anger did intend 
 
 A plague of monsters o'er the world to send, 
 
 Cast from her hand the brutish offspring men, 
 
 And turn'd each house into a savage den : 
 
 In this rapacious species we may find 
 
 All that's destructive in the preying kind, 
 
 Lion, wolf, tiger, bear and crocodile, 
 
 Strong to devour and cunning to beguile. 
 
 But beasts are led to prey by appetite, 
 
 And that once pleased, no more in blood delight* 
 
 Christians, like hell, have an insatiate thirst, 
 
 And still are keen, tho' they be like to burst. 
 
 Lust fills the world with loud alarms of war, 
 
 And turns each plowshare to a hostile spear." 
 
 The sounds assault Angola's wakeful ear, 
 Misjudging of the cause, a sudden fear, 
 
AVEN1A* 197 
 
 (inks some foe is rushing to her arms; 
 Upswinging with his chains in active haste, 
 He plung'd alas, into the watry waste; 
 Nor saw his folly, " whose untutorM mind, 
 
 God in waves, or heard him in the wind. 
 simple nature to his hope had giv'n, 
 Beyond the briny de*p an humble heav'ri. 
 Some safer world with depths of wood embrac'd, 
 some happier island in the watry waste, 
 Where slaves once more their native land behold, 
 No fiends torment, no Christians thirst for gold, 
 He thinks, admitted to that equal sky, 
 riis injur'd wife will bear him company S* 
 'He looks toward his consort as he dies,] 
 
 M Farewel, a long, a last farewell he crie^ 
 And closes on the world his dying eyes, 
 Which glance, expiring, at his native shore, 
 Phen round his head the waves redounding roai 
 Thus died Angola, while his dearer part, 
 
 e nscious of his fate,, now vents her bursting hear- 
 Tow'rd her lov'd coast she casts her eyes in vain, 
 They fail with looking, and with grief they streax 
 In her foul prison she consumes the day, 
 While horrors wear the heavy night away. 
 To some kind friend she'd feign her wants disclcst 
 Now doom'd to meet unutterable woes; 
 But all around are curst with hearts of steel, 
 Without the sense to pity or to feel. 
 W 2 
 
198 AVENIA. 
 
 The land approach'd, the slaves with wild affright 
 Behold the town and sicken at the sight; 
 w hile the proud planters view the ships around, 
 In haste they rush along the landing ground, 
 Flushed at the sight, they haste at early dawn, 
 Precipitate and bounding o'er the lawn, 
 To purchase slaves then to the ship repair, 
 And view the product of the fatal war. 
 The slaves beheld them in that dreadful hour, 
 And inly shudder'd at their barb'rous pow'r. 
 Their cruel trade! who live in heav'ns despite, 
 Contemning laws, and trampling human righii 
 Uutaught to work, to turn the glebe, or sow, 
 They all their riches to their neighbours owe. 
 The tyrants now prepare their slaves to land, 
 All shorn and trimm'd, ujion the yellow sand; 
 Now forc'd into the boat with wild affright, 
 A sudden horror struck their aching sight. 
 The sailors catch the word, their oars they sieze, 
 And sweep, with equal strokes the smoking seas; 
 Clear of the ships the impatient longboats fly, 
 While silent tears flow from each captive's eye. 
 Within a long recess, a bay there lies, 
 Edg'd round with clifts, high pointing to the 
 The jutting shores that swell on either side, 
 Contract its mouth, and break the rushing tide. 
 The eager sailors sieze the fair retreat, 
 And bound within the port the little fleet; 
 
 For here retir'd the sinking billow* sleeps 
 
AVENIA 199 
 
 And smiling calmness silvers o'er the deep. 
 With earnest hearts the joyful sailors press, 
 Their friends whose transports glow at their success; 
 But the sad fate that did their men destroy, 
 Cool'd ev'ry heart, and damp'd the rising joy, 
 The shackled captives in their tyrant's sight, 
 Dejected stand, and shake with wild affright; 
 Their fate bewail, while to the hated land, 
 Their masters drive, and range them on the sand, 
 In droves, unhappy matrons, rnaids and men, 
 Are driv'n promiscuous from the imprison'd den. 
 Like flocks of sheep, alas! they move along, 
 Scourg'd to the market with the knotted thong. 
 With red hot irons now they brand the crew, 
 While from their galled eyes the tears descend anew. 
 Their sparkling tears the want of words supply, 
 And the full soul bursts copious from each eye. 
 They strive their tyrant's pity to command, 
 The ruffians hear but will not understand. 
 To what submissions, in what low decree, 
 Are mortals plac'd, dire avarice, by thee! 
 They try their suppliant arts, and try again ; 
 To move their pity, but alas in vain. 
 In body tortur'd, and distress'd in mind, 
 No hope the poor unhappy creatures find. 
 They curse their natal and their nuptial hoi:r 
 Tears flow amain in one unceasing shower. 
 And peals of groans in mighty columns rise 
 X 
 
20 AVENIA. 
 
 Ascend the heav'ns and echo in the skies* 
 PiercM with the noise the wretch/d babes, in vain, 
 With tender cries, repeat the sound again, 
 And at t;ie mournful call the mothers pressM, 
 Their star 1 ing infants screeching to the breast. 
 And now, a matron wearied heav'n with pray'r, 
 Just on the precipice of black despair, 
 Embrac'd, in arms of wretchedness, her son, 
 And thus in broken accents she begun: 
 
 u And have I borne thee with a mother's threes, 
 To suffer thus, nurs'd thee for future woes? 
 How short the space allowM my boy to view! 
 How short, alas! and fill'd with anguish too." 
 They view their fafe, and sicken at the sight, 
 In bitterness of soul they long for night. 
 Again she Cries, " These floods of grief restrain, 
 Vengeance will soon o'ertake the impious train. 
 Let us bo patient and our hearts prepare, 
 To move great Jove, our heavenly sire, by prayer. 
 Orn* w>«*s to him are known, to him belongs, 
 The strangers cause, and the revenge of wrongs; 
 When friendly death our toil-wcrn frames shall free. 
 
 And rake our abject souls from misery; 
 
 Our ffhost", for injur'd blood, shall daily cry, 
 
 To heav'n, for vengeance, and shall pierce the sky> 
 
 If we, for latent guilt, be doomed to woes, 
 
 Our crimes we teamed from our Christian foesv 
 
AVENIA. 201 
 
 Our vengeful spirits shall enhance their hell, 
 Enjoy their torments, as enchain'd thev dwell*" 
 The scramble o'er, the horrid sale now done, 
 The slaves but find their sorrows just begun; 
 Babes to their parents cling with close embrace, 
 With kisses winder o'er each tearful face; 
 To seperate the hapless, weeping throng, 
 The cowskin hero wields the knotted thong, 
 And as he wields, applies the dreadful blow, 
 While streams of blood in purple torrents flow. 
 Smit with the sign, which all their fears explain, 
 The children still embrace, their knees sustain 
 Their feeble weight no more; their arms alone 
 Support them, round their bleeding parents thrown. 
 They faint, they sink, by cruel woes oppress'd, 
 Each heart weeps blood, ana anguish rends each 
 
 breast. 
 Now, stain' d with blood, a weeping mother press'd 
 Her dear, dear trembling infant to her breast, 
 Then shrieking, to her wretched husband sprang, 
 A moment snatch'd on his lov'd neck to hang; 
 Kissing his lips, his cheeks, his svrollen eyes, 
 AVhile tears descend to earth, and groans ascend the 
 
 skies. 
 Now furious rage the mournful chief inspires, 
 
 And all his soul just indignation fires; 
 
 Amid his hapless family he stands, 
 
 \nd lifts to heav'n his eyes and spreading hands. 
 
202 AVENIA* 
 
 Oppress'd with grief, and raving 1 with despair, 
 Groaning he lifts to heav'n his mental pray'r. 
 Now motionless he stands, in grief profound, 
 Fixing his eyes with anguish on the ground. 
 Behold, and blush, ye first born of the skies, 
 Behold the complicated villanies, 
 Practis'd by Christian hypocrites, unjust*, 
 tfull of rage, rapine, cruelty and lust, 
 Who, smooth of tongue, in purpose insincere, 
 Hide fraud in smiles, while death is harborM there. 
 They proffer peace, yet wage unnat'ral war, 
 From tender husbands, weeping wives they teate? 
 And still they hope, heav'n winks at their deceit. 
 And call their cruelties the crimes of fate. 
 Unjust mankind, whose will's created free, 
 Charge all their guilt on absolute decree . 
 The Christian rulers in their ruin join, 
 And truth is scorn'd by all the perjur'd line. 
 Their crimes transcend all crimes since Noah's flood 
 But all their glory soon shall set in blood. 
 Shall heav'n be fal^e, because revenge is slow? 
 
 No it prepares to strike the fiercer blow, 
 
 Sure is its justice. They shall feel their woe. 
 The day shall come, that great avenging day, 
 When all their honours in the dust shall lay. 
 God will himself pour judgments on their land, 
 Thus hath he said — and what he saith must stand , 
 Their cruelty for justice daily cries, 
 
AVENIA. 203 
 
 And pulls reluctant vengeance from the skies. 
 Their dreadful end will wing its fatal way, 
 Nor need their rage anticipate the day. 
 And tho* they charge on heav'n their own offence, 
 And call their woes the crimes of providence'' 
 Yet they themselves their misery create, 
 They perish by their folly, not their fate. 
 And now th' unhappy exiles mournful stand, 
 Men, babes and dames, a miserable band, 
 A wretched train of shrieking mothers bound, 
 Behold their captive children trembling round. 
 And oft they strive to ease each other's pain, 
 But still repeat the moving theme in vain. 
 Scarce can the whip release the mournful band, 
 Like sculpt'jr'd monumental grief they stand; 
 Compassion now touched my tyrannic soul, 
 And down my cheek the tear unusual stole; 
 Then, nor till then I pitied! tho' their foe, 
 Struck with the sight of such unequali'd woe. 
 Parental tenderness, and kindred bloadl 
 Your force, till now, I little understood. 
 
 Now parted by the whip, in doleful sound, 
 The children speak their agonies profound. 
 Dissolv'd in tears they round their parents hung, 
 And their young arms in early sorrows wrung. 
 And each complains with moving tears and cries, 
 And begs for aid with eloquence of eyes. 
 
 Lash'd with the thong, the bleeding youths in vain, 
 X 2 
 
204 AVENIA. 
 
 Fly back for refuge to their sires again* 
 
 Lost to the soft endearing ties of life, 
 
 The social names of daughter, parent, wife. 
 
 The frantic mother hears the well known sound—— 
 
 * * Can no redress, oh graciou's heav'n, be found? 
 Ye savage Christians, now your rage is spent, 
 Your malice can no greater pains invent. 
 Oh that the base tyrannic Christian band, 
 Had never touch'd my dear paternal land, 
 Oh that I were som e monster of the wood, 
 Or bird of air, or fish that swims the flood, 
 Unthoughtful then, my sorrows I could bear, 
 Nor sin, nor groan, no weep, nor sigh, nor fear. 
 Immortal Sire! shall christians still prevail? 
 And shall thy promise to thy creatures fail I 
 And shall they, shall they still encrease our woe, 
 And dye our lands with purple as they go? 
 Rise in thy wrath, almighty maker rise, 
 Behold our grievous wrongs, with gracious eyes. 
 Oh save my valiant friends, the bold, the brave. 
 Their wives abus'd, their bleeding infants save! 
 See wives and daughters serve promiscuous lust, 
 Their sires and husbands bite the bloody dust." 
 Depriv'd alas; the priv'lege to complain, 
 'She ruffians whip her from the place again. 
 Lo! tyrants thus administer relief, 
 Add wrong to wrong, and wretchedness to grief. 
 Give ear ye tyrants, distant, nations hear. 
 
AVENIA. 205 
 
 And learn the judgments of high heaven to fear! 
 Your children yet unborn shall blush to see, 
 Their predecessor's guilt and villany, 
 Their 4 impious thirst for gold, while fierce in arms, 
 Their cruel breasts no tender pity warms; 
 Should heathens but one virtuous Christian find, 
 Name but the slave trade; they will curse your kind. 
 Deceitful gold-' how high will Christians rise^ 
 In flagrant guilt to gain the glittering prize! 
 Hence sacred faith, and public trust are sold, 
 And villains barter Adam's sons for gold. 
 Shall the oppressed race of human kinc^ 
 From heav'n above, or earth no justice find. 
 Can brutal carnage please Jehovah's sight. 
 Or flaming war reflect a grateful light? 
 Impelled by love, he promis'd to the poor, 
 To hear their prayers, nor drive from mercy's door, 
 CompellM by truth he will his word fulfil, 
 Save the oppress'd, and do his sov'reign will. 
 He will redress his creature's wrongs, tho* late; 
 Thus has he spoke, and what he speaks is fate. 
 Then shall the tyrants of their species bend, 
 Their honours vanish and their glories end. 
 For c ome it will, that dreadful day, replete 
 With righteous judgment, with tremendous fate, 
 Then despots, tho' on golden thrones, shall bleed, 
 And reap the wages to their crimes decreed; 
 While tyrants govern with an iron rod, 
 Oppress, destroy— their dreadful scourge isGeji 
 
206 AVENIA. 
 
 And ev'n the sons of freedom prove unjust, 
 Alike in cruelty, alike in lust! 
 Them shall the muse to infamy consign, 
 I>espis'd, abhorr'd, the theme of tragic rhyme. 
 Those bastard freemen spread consuming death, 
 The name of freedom withers at their breath; 
 Virtue disrob'd, infernal vice aspires, 
 And weeping liberty and truth retires; 
 Laurels that should fair virtue deck alone, 
 To systematic hypocrites are thrown; 
 Their nature and their nation they disgrace* 
 Aud stamp with sable signatures their race: 
 Wide o'er the world their character has spread, 
 Disgrac'd their country, and disgrac'd the dead, 
 Who fought for freedom, and for freedom, bled. 
 Their hypocritic villany proclaim, 
 
 Oh, sing their guilt, my muse inglorious fame! 
 
 For yet more woes their tragic acts inspire, 
 
 To attune with energetic verse the mournful lyre. 
 
 Now to th' estate the slaves are driv'n like lambs 
 Bound to the butchers, sever'd from their dams. 
 With beating hearts, and solemn steps, and slow, . 
 They move along, while tears in torrents flow. 
 Time here would fail us, did we pause to view, 
 The various torments of the sable crew, 
 And as to the plantation they advance, 
 Take of the hapless drove a transient glance; 
 Who view, the moment they approach th* estate. 
 
AVENIA 207 
 
 Then countrymen in chains, their own dire fate*. 
 
 The person who beholds their pains, nor can 
 
 Feet pity, is a monster not a man. 
 
 No mortal eloquence can paint their woes* 
 
 Depict their wrongs, the malice of their foes. 
 
 Not Milton's pen, not Sbakespear's tragic lyre, 
 
 Not Homer's flame, nor Pope's poetic fire, 
 
 To count their wrongs, demands immortal tongues* 
 
 A throat of brass, and adamantine lungs. 
 
 Their fate, alas, is dismal and severe, 
 
 Their lamentations still assault my ear: 
 
 If a poor slave from servitude has ran, 
 
 1 ney lacerate and lop away the man; 
 
 When they have caught, they trim with brazen shears 
 
 Tie wr^tc'ied slave, aid rob him of his ears! 
 
 And if impeil'd by hunger, he should steak 
 
 Or strike his cruel master and rebel, 
 His arm is sure the vengeful knife to feel* 
 Nocturnal stars their constant wailings know, 
 And blushing Phoebus witnesses their woe. 
 No Christian views them with a tender tear, 
 They §nd no mercy, no, nor hope to cheer; 
 And when their toil is o'er, like hogs repair, 
 To wretched dens, and far m >re wretched fare, 
 All day they tend the canes, and as they grow, 
 Their tears to water them incessant flow: 
 Their scanty pittance when their work, is done, 
 Is half devour* d e'er it is well begun; 
 And while their limbs each hour, are like to fail, 
 
2oa AVENIA* 
 
 Ah! fiow they long for ev'n this scanty meal. 
 Slow seems the sun to move, the hours to roll* 
 Their native home, deep imag'd in each soul: 
 As the tir'd plowman spent with stubborn- toil, 
 Whose horses long have torn the furrow'd soil. 
 Sees with delight the sun's declining ray, 
 When home with feeble knees he bends his way; 
 To late repast, the day's sad labour done, 
 So to the slaves, thus welcome sets the sun: 
 But he departs to joyful friends and rest, 
 And these to wretchedness with grief oppress'd. 
 Their bodies scourg'd, and stiff with clotted gore* 
 The wounds renew'd that were received before- 
 Their lacerated limbs oppress'd with chains, 
 Their minds, alas- with more than mortal pains. 
 And when the toil of each sad day is o'er, 
 They sink to sleep, and wish to wake no more. 
 Here might I cease, nor further paint their woe, 
 Too horrid for the sons of men to know. 
 The pond'rous earth would roll her annual way, 
 E'er I could half their miseries display; 
 The woodland monsters would with tears bewail, 
 And ev'n Apcllyon shudder at the tale: 
 But yet Avenias fate demands my song, 
 For her, my muse, the tragic strain prolong; 
 The captives on th' estate arriv'd, and there 
 
 Compelled to grudge in chains, and deep despair 
 The planter views his new bought slaves, while few!. 
 
209 
 
 Unhallow'd passions, kindle in Jus soul; 
 In depth of grief he hears Avenia cry, 
 Yor pity to the sov'reiga of the sky, 
 The unfeeling tyrant, bent on wickedness, 
 Eager beheld her, in her keen distress; 
 He calls hte slave. ..the sable princess hears, 
 And with obedient reverence appears; 
 Her fate unknown. To speak she makes essay; -^ 
 But her tongue faultering, ceases to obey: > 
 
 Me bids her follow where he leads the way. -* 
 
 And as they to the place prepar'd, proceed, 
 The lustful ruffian meditates the deed, 
 Wnich stamps for ever poor Avenia's fate"; 
 Jlni the chaste muse now blushes to relate: 
 S r - length arriv'd, and preparation made, 
 His brutfrl purpose he forthwith display'd. 
 In vain the sable captive lifts her hand, 
 In vain she strives his pity to command; 
 Invokes her lov'd Angola, tears her hair , 
 And lifts to heavVi her unavailing prayer? 
 And oh, what various passions struggling, rise 
 Swell her vexM bosom, and inflame her eyes; 
 What sobs of anguish, what hysteric screams, 
 Wl\at shrieks of frenzy, in their fierce extremes'. 
 The monster braves them all, by wild lust driv'n-, 
 And violates the dame, in face of heav'n! 
 
 ! my indignant muse, t>y shame suppress'd 
 Let tears and burning blushes speak the rest. 
 lis, ev'n this, is nothing to the shame 
 
210 AVEN1A. 
 
 And nameless crimes of the tyrannic train: 
 Nor dare I paint what prudence must conceal, 
 Nor half their studied villanies reveal. 
 
 Methinks I see each sentimental fair, 
 With tender sorrow wipe the irickling tear, 
 While shame and horror thro' their bosoms rush, 
 Swell ev'ry vein, and spread th' indignant blush. 
 -Ah, let your quick and kindred spirits form 
 A vivid picture of the fatal storm; 
 In which she labour'd, and whose force to paint, 
 The muses' strongest tints appear too faintf 
 In sympathetic thought her sufferings see, 
 But oh, forever from her wrongs be free. 
 
 'Twas on the evening of the following day* 
 In solemn silence all creation lay; 
 The injured captive, weary of her woe, 
 And loathing her existence here below 
 Thrice in her anguish tore her sable hair, 
 Thrice beat her breast in madness of despair. 
 And oft repeated her Angolans name, 
 And view'd his image in the fleeting dream: 
 In thought she sees him, but a transient guest, 
 Pants on his lips, and murmurs on his breast, 
 Raptur'd she contemplates his sable charms, 
 .And clasps the phantom in her loving arms; 
 She calls aloud, his fleeting course to stay, 
 In vain she calls — the phantom glides away. 
 To her paternal home, now traveling on, 
 
AVENIA. 211 
 
 In thought, abandon'd, desolatt, alone; 
 She treads, or seems to tread, a dismal plain, 
 And seeks her lover thro' the waste in vain. 
 Now from her troubled sleep the princess starts, 
 While the dear vision from her view departs: 
 And raising toward heav'n her frenzy'd eye6, 
 Implores compassion on her miseries- 
 Bewails her own and her Angola's woe, 
 Whom now she paints as murder'd by the foe; 
 Frantic she rushes o'er the distant plain, 
 Ascends a rock projecting o'er the main; 
 Intent on death, above the flood she stands, 
 And bath'd in tears, and with uplifted hands* 
 The poor insane now loves and hates by turns, 
 With grief now maddens, now with fury burns; 
 Now looks toward her dear paternal plain, 
 Now lifts her streaming eyes to heaven again. 
 " Ah me ! Why view I yet the hated light. 
 Hence let me hasten for I loathe the sight, 
 Life has no charms for me, then let me go, 
 And meet my husband in the shades below; 
 He's gone, while I beneath the load of life, 
 Am left to bear unutterable grief." 
 Now the deep flood she views with native fear, 
 And wrings her hands, enveloped in despair. 
 Her piercing shriek the distant region rends, 
 The woods re-echo with the voice she sends; 
 The hills reverberate, the vfcles rebound, 
 
212 AV.ENIA. 
 
 And to the heav'ns convey the mournful sound, 
 Now near the fatal precipice she flies, 
 Reviews the torrent with her streaming eyeis, 
 From the rough rock projecting o'er the main 
 Whose giddy prospect turnM her tortur'd brain. 
 Sharp are the rocks, loud roars the surge beneajth, 
 She shudders at the thought of instant death; 
 And as she hears the briny billows roar, 
 And sees the foaming waves ascend the shore; 
 Back from her stand, in haste she starts aghast, 
 While toward her native land her eyes are cast. 
 
 " And must I die, [the shud^ring princess cries] 
 Thus unreveng'd. Thou ruler of the skies, 
 And must I die! then tet me fearless go, 
 And 'scape forever my base christian foe.'' 
 Then as a vulture from the.rocky height, 
 Her carrion seen, impetuous at the sight, 
 Forth springing, instant darts herself from high, 
 Shoots on the wing, and rushes down the sky; 
 So plung'd precipitate the hapless dame, 
 Down from the craggy brow, into the foaming main.. 
 The pointed rocks her tender body tore, 
 And the white surf was purpled with her gore. 
 
 The moon just rising blush'd to see her doom, 
 And seem'd to prophesy of woes to come; 
 With dusky redness veil'd her silver light, 
 And back revolving left the earth in night. 
 The fojanyng billows, mounting to the shore, 
 
WEN I a. nr 
 
 on the rock the mangled body bore; 
 * There in the craggy bason, long it lay, 
 To ev'ry wind, and rav'nous bird, a prey. 
 Hapless Avenia* whither art thou gone; 
 Launch'd in a moment to a world unknown* 
 No more, alas, for thee the chaunting train, 
 Shall join harmonious on the verdant plain; 
 No more, with grace superior to the rest, 
 Shalt thou inflame the wond'ring hero's breast; 
 For thee no more awake the tuneful strings; 
 No more to charm thee thy Angola sings ; 
 No more shall Philomel, the plaintive bird, 
 To soothe thee in thy native woods be heard; 
 The feather'd tribes shall cease their notes to sound*, 
 The smiling landscape sadden all around; 
 While the hoarse breathings of the hollow wind, 
 With deep resounding waves in concert join'd? 
 Shall day and night repeat their ceaseless moan, 
 In plaints responsive for Avenia gone. 
 
 * One morning as I was walking round our estate, 
 I saw a slave who had previously committed suicide, 
 by plunging in, and continuing under water til! 
 browned. 
 
 END OF THE FORM. 
 
TO THE READER. 
 
 The interesting matter in the following notes, 
 the publisher has thought proper to leave in 
 its original form^ as by a revision some use* 
 ful sentiments might be lost* 
 
 What must most forcibly interest the 
 sympathetic reader is the consideration that 
 the subject matter of the poem as well as 
 the notes are alas! too true!! The author 
 himself having been an eye and ear witness 
 of many of th,e tragic scenes he depictures. 
 
 What man viewing this, and possessing 
 human feelings, does not blush to find him- 
 self a man? 
 
 What woman possessing a woman's pa- 
 thetic heart? does not shudder at the sequel 
 of this true and tragic poem. 
 
 Such humane readers who possess a tear, 
 Will give their passions vent and drop it 
 here. 
 
 THE PUBLISHER. 
 
NOTES 
 
 BOOK L 
 
 i'AGE 19, line 13< 
 re fraught with frargrance> &c. 
 
 IT is unanimously allowed by travellers, that Africa 
 
 is as fertile as any other part, of the world, producing 
 
 obundince of rice and roots. Indigo and cotton thrive 
 
 without cultivation*. ..The lakes are stored with 
 
 .The fields with flocks and birds, and the woods 
 
 abound with spontaneous fruits« For my own part, I 
 
 be bold to affirm, that it is the most beautiful 
 
 uxuriant country I ever beheld; although I have 
 
 cd several kingdoms in Europe; and islands in the 
 
 West Indies, as well as South America. That part 
 
 of Africa alluded to, called Guinea, from whence tbe 
 
 3 are brought; extends along the coast 4000 miles 
 
 q the river Senegal to Cape Sierra Leona; thence 
 
 ns eastward 1500 mile*, including the Grain, 
 
 y 2 
 
116 NOTES. 
 
 Ivcn . Gold and Slave Coasts, with the kingdoms of 
 Benin, Congo, Angola and many others. 
 
 Page 22, line 10 5 
 
 The artful Christians, Sec. 
 
 Reflecting- on the recent revival of the slave trade 
 \r\ the American republic, and at the same time taking 
 a retrospective view of the revolutionary war, "and 
 the circumstances attending it, struck dumb with as- 
 tonishment, I strive but strive in vain, to collect and 
 arrange my thoughts like a man who experiences sen- 
 sations to which language is not equal, whose concep- 
 tions are too large to be born alive. While in the 
 struggle of expression, his hands, his eyes, and every 
 finger strive to be a tongue, and he looks about for 
 help to shew his thoughts by. When we see the des- 
 pots of Europe spreading desolation and misery 
 amongst their fellow men, we are not surprised, as 
 their conduct corresponds with their principles; but 
 when we survey the professional votaries of liberty 
 and equality, who have taken up the sword of virtuous 
 defence, who have bravely put themselves between 
 tyranny^nd freedom, between villany and virtue, at 
 a former period, now become the butchers of their 
 brethren, the destroyers of liberty and the right: 
 
NOTES. Ml 
 
 man, and the promoters and supporters of legal bar- 
 barity, we are ashamed, we are confounded! and 
 what enhanches our shame, is the consideration that 
 liberty disrobed and in tears, has been banished from 
 every nation but America; and here she has received 
 a deadly w r ound. Exclusive of the wickedness and 
 deleterious consequences resulting from the revival of 
 the slave trade by the republicans of America, it is 
 an outrage on civil society, as well as an insult to the 
 citizens of each individual state. It is, in short, cal- 
 ling us all hypocritical tyrants: for no man in c©mpa~ 
 ny with his neighbour, will act the rogue, unless he 
 conceives him inclined to be one; and no man will at- 
 tempt to seduce a woman, unless he supposes she is 
 of easy virtue, and the attempt is virtually calling her 
 a harlot. The eyes of all the crowned heads of Europe 
 are upon our young republic, to see if our actions cor- 
 respond with our pretensions; they are watching an 
 opportunity to gain some evidence against us, that 
 may serve to render our professions suspected, and 
 our republicanism a farce. While their oppressed vas- 
 sals, eager to shake off their galling chains, look to 
 us with anxioas solicitude, in hopes that we may 
 prove to the world that there is a reality in republican 
 1 sm, and that the sons of men are capable of enjoying 
 • rty. 
 
 Can any thing sink the character of a nation lower 
 ^consistency? Should not the American govern 
 Z 
 
218 NOTES. 
 
 merit be a scourger to the oppressor, and a pafron to the 
 oppressed? Why then is infernal avarice permitted to 
 tarnish the virtuous fame of the patriotic heroes who 
 «' Died in the cause of liberty in arms." It is the na- 
 ture of compassion to reflect on the wretchedness of 
 the wretched; and it is natural for a true republican to 
 abhor slavery, into whatever form it may be assimi- 
 lated, or whatever name it may assume. When I sur- 
 vey in sympathetic thought, the miseries of the hu- 
 man family, in what are called civilized and christi- 
 anized countries, and all through the instrumentality 
 of political and ecclesiastical hypocrites, my soul re- 
 coils with indignation, and my very heart weeps 
 blood. 
 
 Stimulated by disinterested philanthropy for my 
 fellow creatures, and gratitude to my Creator, I un- 
 dertook this work; and I am confident he will accept 
 my well meant endeavours for his glory. Yes; the Al- 
 mighty looks down from heaven's high arch, and re- 
 gards with complacency the grateful offerings of a 
 thankful heart. As a tender parent would behold 
 with pleasure and approbation, the mistimed exertions 
 of an infant child to please: for it is not the thing we 
 do,' but the motive by which we are stimulated, that 
 renders the thing done either acceptable or unaccept- 
 able. Hence the Almighty frequently makes use of 
 the weak things of the world to confound the thing? 
 
T£S. 210 
 
 b are mighty, and the foolish tilings of the worJd 
 to confound the wise, that no man might glory in man, 
 but that Christ might be all In all. As my object in 
 this work is the happiness, not the applause of man- 
 kind; to be useful rather than to be systematical; I 
 consequently seek no recorapence,* anjd fear no reflec- 
 tions. 
 
 Without taking any notice of the despot's aspersi- 
 ons, or the critic's animadversions, I will vindicatg 
 injured innocence, and advocate the rights of man- 
 That God has punished the nations of antiquity for 
 tyranny, is an uncontrovertible fact; that he will pu- 
 nish the Christian nations for their barbarity is be- 
 yond a doubt — to suppose he will not do it, is sup- 
 posing him more unjust than the unjust judge* 
 
 • I offered the first edition of my " Preliminary Es- 
 say" to Richard Allen, on consideration of his paying the 
 printer's bill. And naitb respect to this performance, I 
 h/ive voluntarily delivered the manuscript to the printer 
 for publication, gratis. My motive in securing the copy* 
 right, is merely to precluae persons from metamorphos- 
 es or k previous to republication. Nevertheless, ifs 
 any bookseller should vxsh ho publish another edition, by 
 giving me previous notice, and agreeing not to make any 
 •ions in the vcori , further than correcting errors, he 
 i* equally at liberty, as if the copy-right was not sec 
 
220 NOTES. 
 
 I ask in behalf of the oppressed sons of men, can 
 slavery, as sonsolidated in America, be consistent with 
 heathenish honesty, much lesschristian rectitude ? can 
 it be compatible with republicanism or philanthropy it 
 •s impossible- No man, who will for one moment re- 
 flect on right and wrong can avoid seeing the compli- 
 cated barbarity of the slave trade, and it is my h>m 
 belief, that the persons engaged in it, either perso- 
 nally or virtually, living and dying in that state, can- 
 not enter the kingdom of heaven. A man may com- 
 mit murder yet live, repent, and be saved; but if he 
 die in the very act, it is blasphemy against the purity 
 of heaven to suppose he can be admitted there. Slave 
 holders and slave dealers are not only literally mur- 
 derers but barbarous robbers too. Much might be said 
 to show the injustice and iniquity of this diabolical 
 commerce; but it would be degrading my readers to 
 idiots, to suppose they did not see it themselves; and 
 it would be degrading republicanism, much more re- 
 ligion, to bring them forward to prove the iniquity, in- 
 consistency, and impolicy of slavery, especially in a 
 republic; for here it is to the body politic what a gal- 
 lopping consumption is to an individual body. 
 
 Finally, we must shut our eyes against reason, and 
 basely insult our understandings, not to see its tur- 
 pitude and tendency. In order that the most viru- 
 lent advocate for slavery may be convinced, let him 
 
NOTES. 121 
 
 pi.t himself in the condition of the slave, and then 
 vindicate the principles if he can. But passing by all 
 that might be said on this topic in a theological point 
 of view, we will briefly consider the impolicy of sla- 
 very in a political view. It might easily be demon- 
 strated, that permitting slavery in the republics of an- 
 tiquity, was the primary cause of their downfall; and 
 what they were in magnitude, the southern states of 
 America are in miniature. With what painful sen- 
 sations must the philantropist reflect on the present 
 as well as the antecedent state of society in almost 
 every part of our terraqueous globe. Indeed, wheth- 
 er we contemplate the state of civilized or savage na- 
 tions — where literature flourishes, or where ignorance 
 prevails — the civilian in his mansion, or the cannibal 
 in his hut — we see violence and oppression prevail, 
 and we must impressively feel emotions of indignati- 
 on and pity. The more circumspective our view, the 
 more painful are our observations; and, alas! the 
 mind is not elevated, but more deeply wounded, by 
 reflecting on those legislators, who profess to be the 
 friends of liberty. The mind in traversing the earth, 
 beholds millions of wretched objects the fruits of legal 
 barbarity; then looks to the despot on his throne, the 
 republican in his presidential chair, the philosopher in 
 his closet, the minister in his pulpit, and calls for jus- 
 tice, for pity, for commiseration — but calls, alas! in 
 vain. Who can, without tears of compassion, view 
 Z2 
 
322 NOTES* 
 
 this theatre, whose exhibitions are most distressing, 
 and whose inhabitants still encourage scenes at which 
 humanity shudders, virtue mourns, indignation frowns, 
 and liberty melts to tears. 
 
 I would ask the votaries of oppression what is civil 
 government? It is not arbitrary power. It is not, or 
 should not be a contrast between miserable huts and / 
 splendid palaces, between penury and pomp, extrava- 
 gance and indigence. It is not instituted to rob the 
 poor man of his liberty as well as his mite; increase 
 the miseries of the miserable; exalt one part pf soci" 
 ety above the state of man, and degrade the other be- 
 low the state of brutes. Civil government is no other 
 than a national association, whose object is the hap- 
 piness and security of every individual member of a 
 state, without partiality, and to administer justice 
 Without respect to persons, and at the least possible 
 expence to the nation. Every individual in a repub- 
 lic, is a proprietor in government; as he has deposited 
 fys right in the common stock of society, he draws 
 on the capital as a matter of right, and government 
 should guarantee the rights and privileges of each ci- 
 tizen individually as well as all collectively. Is slave- 
 ry consistent with such a government? It is impossible. 
 The fact is, slavery is an indelible disgrace to the A- 
 merican constitution, as well as an eternal reproach 
 to the whole nation. In short, the more we extend 
 our views, the more we investigate the principles of 
 
our government, so much the more cause we have to 
 blush for the honour of human nature; and it is owing 
 to our familiarity with scenes derogatory to every just 
 honest and virtuous principle, that we do not shudder, 
 and invincibly protest against the legislative proce_ 
 dure of our fellow citizens* 
 
 The Israelites protested against and punished the 
 tribe of Benjamin, for their cruelty to the Levite's 
 concubine : but Americans see with indifference, thei r 
 fellow -citizens enslave, violate and murder millions of 
 their fellow-creatures with impunity. I do not by any 
 means wish to give offence; but I must affirm that 
 there are a set of men in the United States, who, if 
 allowed to put their principles in practice, will give 
 the death-blow to liberty, who has been already chas- 
 ed round the globe, cashiered by her enemies, and 
 wounded by the house of her friends. The charac- 
 ters alluded to may be included in the following de- 
 scription : Avaricious men who are not to be trust- 
 ed bigotted men who cannot see ; prejudiced men, 
 
 who will not see ; cruel, ambitious, interested men 
 
 » 
 who would wade through seas of the blood of their 
 
 fellow men, to exalt themselves, and gratify their 
 vanity and pride ; and this last class, let their profes- 
 sions, pretentions, or names be what they may, will 
 be the cause of more calamities to our young repub- 
 lic, than all the other three. Aristocracy is disclaim. 
 ejd by the slave-holders of America, and the Europe-- 
 
£24 NOTES. 
 
 an law of primogenitorship, which unjustly and un- 
 generously disinherits all the children of a nobleman, 
 except his oldest son ; one is exalted, and the rest 
 are debased. This infamous law, and many others 
 equally oppressive, are exhibited to popular animad- 
 version and contempt by them, and yet, forsooth 
 this is only in minority what American slavery is in 
 maturity. It was by allotting to particular men and 
 families extraordinary power and privileges, that 
 former republics were bereaved of their liberties, and 
 precipitated into a terrible abyss of despotism, wretch 
 edness, and degradation. It is a well attested fact 5 
 that in any country where interested men are exalted, 
 corruption naturally engenders around them. It is in» 
 human, it is diabolically wicked, for any government 
 or nation to suffer thousands of human beings to be 
 consigned to unutterable wretchedness, to support an 
 individual villain, or a family of them in their idle- 
 ness, luxury and dissipation ; and yet this is the case 
 
 in America the country, which above all others, 
 
 should discountenance oppression and despotism ; 
 but astonishing to think, that in this our land of 
 liberty there is a sort of oppression, the most cruel, 
 unjust, and pernicious, of any other in the world; 
 to demonstrate which, a number of cogent rea- 
 sons might be adduced : but as our limits will not ad- 
 mit us to enlarge, we will let a few suffice 
 
In the first place, domestic slaver, has a natural 
 tendency to be metamorphosed to national aristocra- 
 cy; it being morally impossible to keep elections pure t 
 where one part of society are exalted to demi-gods, 
 and the other part degraded to beggars ; (I am here 
 alluding to the poor white people in the Southern 
 States;) for where one citizen, who by fraud or force, 
 has gained the sovereignty over a thousand slaves 
 and sends his imperial commands over as many acres 
 -of land, fifty must necessarily be in low circumstan - 
 ces; the consequence of which is, one part of the citi- 
 zens are furnished with the means of corruption, and 
 the other part are put into a condition that they can- 
 not avoid being corrupted. Any person who has stu- 
 died human nature, may easily see the validity of this 
 remark. 
 
 Secondly, There are no characters on our Globe, 
 more naturally unfit to be legislators for a republic 
 than slave holders ; because their ideas of distributive 
 justice are corrupted in the very source. Their juve- 
 nile employment is to trample on the rights of their 
 fellow men, and look with contempt on their poor 
 neighbors, for in fact they are taught and educated so 
 to do. I would ask, with what ideas of justice can 
 i persons enter a house of legislation, or take the 
 reigns of government in their hands, who rob their 
 African brethren of their lives and liberties, because 
 M>oth they are black, and despise their fellow citi- 
 a a 
 
22*5 NOTES. . 
 
 zens, because they are poor. Can a government, con- 
 sisting of such characters long continne free ? it is 
 utterly impossible. Such governments may, in point 
 of theory, exhibit the appearance of liberty and equali- 
 ty, while the persons who were actors in, and witnes- 
 ses of the revolution, live; but when they die even the 
 appearance of liberty must die* with them, i. e. if 
 mankind continue to be as degenerate as they are at 
 present. 
 
 Thirdly; The idea of a slaveholder being a good le- 
 gislator or governor, is as inconsistent as to suppose a 
 
 wolf would be a good shepherd, and defend, not de- 
 vour the sheep; or a fox would protect, not destroy 
 the poultry. 
 
 Fourthly, It is continuing the uncivilized principle 
 well known in Europe, of governments becoming the 
 property, by hereditary right of individual despots or 
 families of them. Though this sentiment is explod- 
 ed by Americans, it is certain that the base idea of 
 man having a property in man, and governing him 
 by personal right, is not confined to Europe. There 
 it embraces ail men, here only black men ; but pub- 
 lic opinion only controls the sentimental despot in the 
 present generation, while the concomitant circum- 
 
 * While Joshua lived, the Israelites served the Lor <. 
 Mat when he died, they soo?i degenerated* 
 
NOTES* 
 
 stances of the revolution are fresh in our minds, \H 
 the next generation that must naturally wear away: 
 then despotism which is now confined to the poor 
 blacks, the poor whites must participate. This will 
 as naturally be the case, as that a little leaven will 
 leaven the whole lump. 
 
 Fifthly, the encouragement of slavery in the south- 
 ern states is of infinite injury to the poor white peo- 
 ple in the northern states,, incomparably more so than 
 in the West-Indies* While thousands of Africans 
 are monthly imported into South-Carolina, hundreds 
 abscond and seek an asylum in the northern states 
 where they are on an equality with the whites.f 
 The consequences resulting therefrom, which every 
 person may easily conceive, though it would be per- 
 haps imprudent for me to express, is, on a variety 
 of accounts, exceedingly injurious indeed. 
 
 Sixthly, It is a stubborn fact, that slavery has a 
 tendency to degenerate even the patriotic, as well as 
 the despotic, u as strong temptations with the best 
 prevail." By the universal economy of human na- 
 ture it is known, and by the instance of the French 
 
 t There ore perhaps 15,000 blacks in Philadelphia 
 alone ; and 150,000 scattered in the northern, exclusive of 
 900,000 in the Southern Stat?* 
 
228 NOTES* 
 
 republic it is proved, that mankind have a natural 
 tendency to degenerate. That supremacy in an indi- 
 vidual, a family, or a state, is a forerunner of the an- 
 nihilation of a republic, is as plain to me as a ray of 
 light, and must be so to every one who will not wilfully 
 shut his eyes. The reader will at once perceive, 
 that I studiously forego discussing this subject in a 
 religious way, though most congenial to my senti- 
 ments, and agreeable to my taste. None can say 
 that these arguments are the offspring of fanaticism 
 or enthusiastic vision. They are a few disinterested 
 political reasons, collected as it were to a focus 
 where thousands might be adduced, to demonstrate 
 the deleterious tendencies of nourishing slavery in a 
 republic. Here, however, I would beg leave to tran- 
 scribe a cogent paragraph from my « Address to the 
 inhabitants of Christendom/' page 172. •* These are 
 serious considerations, whatever oppressors or their 
 abettors, persons judicially infatuated may think; 
 there is a minute account of all their barbarities in 
 the records of eternity. And woe to all tyrants, des- 
 pots and oppressors, when the accounts are settled ~ 
 or to use the language of scripture, when they are 
 weighed in the balance, for they doubtless will be 
 found wanting. The most populous and famous na- 
 trons of antiquity have been called to a reckonings 
 and the most haughty kingdoms have sunk to ruhi 
 when the balance was struck. Were unenlightened 
 
nations punched, and punished with severity ; and 
 can the enlightened escape with impunity? Such a 
 supposition, the justice of the Almighty forbids, as 
 blasphemy against the rectitude of heaven. Be as- 
 sured, it is not the benediction of a prelate, the elo- 
 quent speech of a potentate, or the proclamation of 
 a prime minister, that will repay the blood of India' 
 requite the wretchedness of Africa, or appease the an- 
 ger of heaven Serious solemn considera- 
 tions." 
 
 This paragraph is applicable to American as well as 
 European despots, for the Antediluvian law, " whoso 
 sheddeth man's blood,by man shall his blood be shed" 
 is now as much as ever in full force; but admitting, 
 for argument's sake, that our antecedent assertions 
 are fallacious, the subsequent reasons will be suffic- 
 iently we'ghtv to consolidate our hypothesis, and 
 prove the impolicy of slavery 10 a demonstration. ft 
 is unanimously allowed by friends and foes that the 
 federal union of the states is radically the palladium 
 of the American republic s dissolve that compact, and 
 we become a prey to intestine commotion, foreign 
 influence and sanguinary invasion. By the consti- 
 tution of the United States, it is provided that •■ re- 
 presentatives and direct taxes shall be appor: 
 among the several states, which may be includ, 
 the union, according to their respective numbers, 
 which shall be determined by adding to the whole 
 
■230 NOTES. 
 
 number of free persons, including those bound to ser- 
 vice for a term of years, and excluding Indians not 
 taxed, three fifths of all other persons. This princi- 
 ple evidently secures to the qualified voters of a state 
 possessing slaves, the right of choosing a greate r 
 number of representatives, in proportion to the free 
 citizens, than is enjoyed by the citizens of a state, 
 who from honourable and virtuous motives, refuse to 
 participate in the barbarous oppression and slavery of 
 their fellow creatures; so that 20,000 proprietors of 
 50,000 slaves have a voice in the elections equivalent 
 to that of 50,000 free persons who are destitute of 
 this species of property. The admission of this del- 
 eterious principle into our national compact, was un- 
 questionably the dictate of necessity. The members 
 of the convention from the eastern states consented 
 to it as a choice of difficulties, preferring a partial sa- 
 crifice of their rights, with the chance of future reme- 
 dy, to the hazard of losing the whole constitution. In 
 the same spirit, the principle was supported in the 
 state convention, by the best talents in the northern 
 states. The number of slaves in the southern states, 
 according to the last census, is 847,748, exclusive of 
 several thousands recently imported from Africa. 
 Now deducting from the prefixed number two-fifths, 
 the remainder gives to their tyrants the right of elect- 
 ing 15 representatives, and the number exceeds by 
 ene, the whole number to which New-Hampshire* 
 
NOTES. 23i 
 
 Rhode-Island, and Connecticut together are entitled 
 The number of representatives apportioned to all the, 
 northern states is 35; so that the negro votes alone, 
 in choice of electors and members of congress, bear a 
 proportion to the votes of all the free citizens of the 
 northern states of 15 to 35 I ask* any man, friend 
 ° r foe, is this just or generous; and the misfortune is, 
 that this inequality is constantly accumulating in fa- 
 four of the slave traders and owners. This assertion 
 can be proved to a demonstration by comparing the 
 
 * If the citizens of the northern states do not wish to 
 leave their children a prey to anarchy , intrigue, and in- 
 testine commotion, they should by all means endeavor to 
 regulate this glaring inequality, which undoubtedly is 
 pregnant with inevitable €onsequences both to the federal 
 union and civil liberty; for they are as much better quali- 
 fied to correct this defect at present, than their progeny 
 can possibly be hereafter, as one compared to one hun- 
 dred; even now a general view of the population of the 
 2enioti...:thc relative situation of certain states with each 
 other, and the predominant policy of certain southern 
 states will demonstrate , that the representative principle , 
 rablixbed by the constitution, has given to Virginia, 
 as the principal of the jsouthern states, a prepondenv 
 influence in our national affair:;. That this inflti 
 
2 32 NOTES- 
 
 iast census, with that which preceded it: by this com- 
 parison it will appear that the population of the north- 
 ern states has increased in a ratio of 22 per cent; 
 while 'the number of slaves in the southern states 
 progressed in a ratio of thirty-five per cent. In al^ 
 these states without exception, the slaves have ama- 
 zingly increased; but in a much greater ratio in the 
 new than in the old states It must be remembered 
 by the by, that it is not by propagation, but by impor- 
 
 will be improved to the total ruin, as it is ?io*iv improv- 
 ed to the injury of the no? them states, is as plain to me 
 as a, b, c. That this will be the case without a speedy 
 remedy, is already ascertained from the history of the 
 world in general, and the yews in particular. As this 
 barbarous principle which allows slave holders more pow- 
 er and privileges according as they precipitate more of 
 the human family into inexpressible misery, was assented 
 to } by the northern delegates with reluctance, and on ac- 
 count of circumstances , it is certain, it should be no 
 longer binding than while other states should adhere to 
 the principles of liberty and equality on which the gene- 
 ral government is erected, and which" should countervail 
 this unjust and ungenerous inequality. Then since w e 
 thatjX be opera tion of this prir, c 
 
FES. 233 
 
 tation they are increased. The barbarous treatment 
 they have to endure from their brutal tyrants, which 
 I have circumstantially delineated in my 4< Prelimi" 
 nary Essay," precludes the possibility of their propa- 
 gation; for even the tender mercies of a slave-holder 
 are cruel indeed. ..How extremely wretched then, 
 must be the state of those unfortunate persons, who 
 are forever consigned to the fury of such characters, 
 as sheep are delivered to the ruthless butcher. When 
 I reflect on what I myself have seen them endure, 
 the sympathetic commiseration and painful sensations 
 I anticipate, language is not sufficiently sonorous to 
 express. 
 
 Wherefore, tljrough the instrumentality of smug- 
 glers alone, in Georgia the number of slaves has more 
 than doubled; in Kentucky they have increased from 
 
 so injurious to the eastern states, that, by its means, their 
 influence is literally anibilated; that they are at this mo- 
 ment the mere colonies of Virginia, ivho, notwithstanding , 
 is very naturally still farther preparing the means of per 
 petuating her ascendancy (or if you please, supremacy !) 
 by procuring amendments favourable to her own vie 
 We may, therefore, reasonably expect at a future period 
 unlet* Ogent measure: be taken, that the body politic 
 mill feel as veil as know, that supremacy in a state i 
 destruction to a republic* 
 
 a a 2 
 
234 NOTES- 
 
 2 340 to 40,244; in Tenesseefrom 13,417 to 13,884 
 During all this period, the importation of slaves has 
 been prohibited by.the laws of all the states, and the 
 prohibition though very often eluded, has no doubt 
 operated as a partial check....But now, new avenues 
 from Spanish America are opened to thisdesiructive 
 traffic, by the acquisition of Louisiana and through 
 Sourh-Carolina, and to the eternal disgrace of our 
 body politic, the slave trade is renewed and facilitated 
 to a most deplorable extent; myriads of urfhappy 
 men, women and children, victims to legal barbarity, 
 are periodically imported into the American Repub- 
 lic, who, though destitute of right themselves, and re. 
 duced to a level with the brute creation, yet they con* 
 fer upon their purchasers the paramount rights of 
 uffrage and of sovereignty, and every five of whom* 
 upon any difference of policy or division of votes be- 
 tween the south and the north* may be considered as 
 effectually balancing the votes of two freeholders in 
 New-England. There are many more radical evils 
 attending this inequality, f which the brevity of ouf 
 
 * The people certainly must be judicially infatuated, 
 who cannot see the iniquity, the fatality, as well as im- 
 policy of this shameful inequality. 
 
 f The reader will take notice, by the northern states 
 are meant, the states, opposed to slavery, practically as 
 ivell as theoretically; and vice versa 3 as it respects the 
 southern states. 
 
NOTES. 235 
 
 plan forbids us to particularize. There is one, how- 
 ever, of peculiar magnitude, which I must notice, and 
 ft will prove, beyond a doubt, that Virginia is with 
 long and steady strides, securing supremt influence. 
 I would, here, if my readers would pardon the di- 
 gression, observe, that candor forbids me to think, 
 much less assert, that the principal characters of the 
 state of Virginia, men of profound erudition, or the 
 mass of its citizens, plot the introduction of anarchy 
 or innovation. Their souls would no doubt, recoil 
 with horror at the idea of intestine commotion; in- 
 stead of anticipating a crisis which would inevitably 
 prove fatal to themselves as well as their opponents, 
 but whoever will reflect upon the depravity of hu_ 
 man nature for a moment, will see the danger of in- 
 trusting even the best of men with power. What is 
 the reason that millions of the human family despise 
 ihe unspeakable blessings of vital religion and civil li- 
 berty?. ...The reason is obvious; the professors of both 
 while kept in a state of mediocrity, are sincere; but 
 when exalted, forget themselves — disgrace the best 
 of causes, and forsooth, prove hypocrites and dema- 
 gogues. In the space of ten years, I have not seen 
 or heard of but two men who were exalted in a poli- 
 tical point of view, and retained their integrity; and 
 whose love of liberty was superior to their love of 
 power and popularity: namely Mr. Washington und 
 My Jefferson. I have not known an ir ; 
 b b 
 
236 NOTES. 
 
 my life, and Mr. Wesley affirms, that in sixty 
 years he did not know six religious persons that 
 were exalted temporally, but degenerated spiritually 
 and though they retained the shell, lost the kernel of 
 religion. Those who consider the nature of pride 
 and the treachery of the human heart, will not be 
 surprised at this recital* Hence I believe, one exalt- 
 ed state may excite a tempest that all the states can 
 never allay. 
 
 But it should be remembered, that each state has 
 two votes in the Senate of the United States; that 
 the catalogue of new states has been extended 
 by the policy of Virginia, and that her local situation 
 gives her an unlimited control over the immense 
 western territory, which will be divided into states 
 at her pleasure, and will realise towards her, from 
 the time of their birth, the affections and prejudices 
 of children towards a parent. The country recently 
 purchased for 15,000,000 dolls. (Louisiana,) of an im- 
 measurable extent, will facilitate the augmentation of 
 the number of states, and that they will be enemies 
 to the rights of man. The official communication 
 of our minister in France, will demonstrate the fact, 
 viz. " That it can be cultivated with slaves only." 
 We are also informed, that the centre of this new 
 acquired world is further from us, than some of the 
 West-India Islands, and that some parts are more 
 
NOTES. 237 
 
 distant than Europe; that the fertility and natural 
 advantages of the territory already explored invite a 
 rapid population. The settlements already organized 
 are said to contain a motley race of all nations and 
 will aftbrd a secure asylum for hordes of fugitives 
 and vagabonds, whose emigration will tend to conso. 
 lidate slavery, and whose business it will be, to drive 
 slaves: and when assimilated to American citizens, 
 what will they, or rather what will they not accom- 
 plish? Thus will the Virginian policy entrench itself 
 behind the most formidable ramparts. .'States will b e 
 multiplied at her pleasure, with as much expedition as 
 townships are incorporated in the northern states, an^ 
 stocked with voters more easily than the rational vota- 
 ries of liberty can stock their farms with cattle. Does 
 it not incontestibly result, that these cirsumstances 
 have an unavoidable tendency to deprive the north- 
 ern states of all interest and consideration in the na. 
 tional government, and so accelerate the annihilation 
 of the federal union, the palladium of our constitu- 
 tion. Every person not blinded by interest or preju- 
 dice, must see, that, without indefatigable exertions, 
 the citizens of the northern states will be engulphed 
 in a vortex of politics and interests alien to their own» 
 and that the voices of their reprentatives will be 
 drowned amidst the jargon of cowskin delegates, 
 chosen by negroes, their drivers, and African slave- 
 traders. I ask once more, in the name of common 
 
2 3 8 NOTES. 
 
 sense, when 1,500,000 slaves more are imported to 
 cultivate Louisiana, and which are every week rap - 
 cliy arriving, what will become of the interests, the 
 unalienable rights and natural privileges of the north- 
 ern states ? Where shall we find the liberty and in- 
 dependence for which the patriots of *76 fought and 
 bled... ..For which the revolution was begun.. ..Or, 
 where shall we find the federal equality which it was 
 the object of the present constitution to guarantee? 
 Behold the French Republic and the democracies o^ 
 antiquity, and we need not be at a loss for an answer . 
 Some of them who depended on their own intrinsic 
 -orce, have fallen a prey to factious demagogues and 
 anarchy- Some who had confederated for mutual 
 defence, have been rent asunder, owing to the am- 
 bition of the great to tyrannize over tke less; and 
 What accelerated their downfall was the blind confi- 
 dence which they had in their flatterers. All these 
 republics have flitted away, and like blood-stained 
 spectres, pursued by an angry demon; or like thuoght- 
 less children deceived by the fraudful kidnapper,, to 
 their ruin, have been precipitated together into one 
 
 horrid abyss of despotism This, no doubt, must 
 
 be in the nature of things, the fate of America, un» 
 less we shun the rocks on which they split. Even ad- 
 mitting, that there is no God to redress the grievan- 
 ces of the oppressed here, nor justice to punish the 
 cruel oppressor hereafter. 
 
NOTES. 239 
 
 From the arguments already adduced it will appear 
 evident to every person, not contaminated by locai 
 prejudice, (and the angel Gabriel himself, could not 
 convince such characters) that there never was a 
 time* when it was more necessary for the friends 
 of liberty to watch continental intrigues mdr,e cir- 
 cumspectly than the present, and to distinguish the 
 politics of individual states from the politics of the 
 nation. It is the ]pve I bear my fellow oreatures, the 
 desire I feel for their happiness, and the solicitude I 
 involuntarily feel for the honour of human na_ 
 ture, that stimulates me to think and writ on politics, 
 For I have naturally, neither inclination nor desire 
 to discuss such topics. I have preferred poverty with 
 virtue to affluence with villany^ and do uniformly 
 avoid all parties and party connexions, either in 
 church or state, and finally • I seek a peaceful asylum 
 in the shades of obscurity. 
 
 * There never was a period since the creation of the 
 world, when wars, rumors of wars, pe&ilence, inun- 
 dations, earthquakes, rebellions, revolutions, were so 
 prevalent as at the present: z?id never was oppression, 
 violence, injustice, and in short, every kind of abomi- 
 nation so gigantic as it is in this generation, It teems 
 to be the preliminary to the glorious Milleniunv and 
 t do religious and political hypocrites, philosophic^ 
 
 bb2 
 
2 4 NOTES. 
 
 The degeneracy of France and the hypocrisy of her 
 tyrant, has entirely changed matters in Europe, and 
 given civil liberty a mortal wound. All the despots 
 in the world are combining against her, and nothing 
 but a reciprocal union can give sufficient security a- 
 gainst their intrigues. What a pity it is, that th e 
 nations of Christendom are not as anxious to ex- 
 terminate this greatest of all judgments, sanguinary 
 warfare, from the world, as they» are to promote it ! 
 How easy might this be done, if governments were 
 of a pacific turn ; but alas ! the contrary is the case 
 — stubborn facts prove it to be so What impov- 
 erishes thousands of families and makes millions 
 of wretched orphans? War, bloody ivar ! What a 
 glorious reformation, it would be, if a general 
 congress or pacific republic was organized by all 
 nations, for the purpose of precluding the necessity 
 
 of war, by accommodating all disputes amicably 
 
 t 
 wtoich might arise between nation and nation. How 
 
 e asy might a court of arbitration thus formed, by a 
 
 delegate from each civilised nation, settle every 
 
 foolish misunderstanding, which too frequently is the 
 
 unbelievers, and the long black catalogue of oppressors, 
 t hink, that while they are eagerly Jilting up the mea- 
 sure of their crimes^ they accelerate that auspicious 
 period. 
 
NOTES. 241 
 
 cause of the loss of thousands of useful lives and 
 millions of treasure. Such a plan would reduce 
 taxation in some nations, at least 100 per cent, less 
 than it is at present: 
 
 As th# American government is the only free one 
 in the world, like a city placed on a hill, she should 
 show a pattern of political rectitude and pacific mod. 
 eration to a world of despots and slaves. No nation 
 can boast so fair an origin. The proudest govern- 
 ment in the old world originated from individual 
 ruffians and murderers, or united bands of them. 
 But the first settlement of America was with honor- 
 able patriots. We should not therefore disgrace our 
 origin by our imbecility or hypocrisy. The eminence 
 
 on which our republic stands the vast prospect 
 
 before us... the eager eyes of millions of enlightened 
 
 slaves in Europe placed upon us> The millions of 
 
 families plunged in unutterable misery and distress in 
 Europe to maintain despots in their extravagance and 
 exalt their flatterers. All these circumstances, and 
 many more that the philanthropic heart will ex 
 hibit to view, must conspire to impress every real 
 patriotic American with tender emotions, and must 
 excite their commiseration in a high degree, to 
 see it in our power to teach mankind to be happy; 
 to shew them by example as well as precept, that 
 the/ may be so if they will, should command 
 our reflection and gratitude. AH mankind saw the 
 
242 NOTES. 
 
 heroes of America triumph over adversity, and 
 may all nations see her equally virtuous in pros, 
 perity. National reputation possesses a charm 
 which commands the respect and veneration of 
 both friends and foes. The circumstances attending 
 the American revolution have contributed more to 
 enlighten mankind, and diffuse a spirit of freedom 
 and liberality through all nations, than any political 
 event antecedent or subsequent to it. May heaven 
 forbid then, that a single blot from any quarter 
 whatever, should ever tamish such a glorious 
 cause; may it ever be beyond the power of calum* 
 ny to throw the least reflection oa our honour as a 
 nation. Character is much easier kept than recov- 
 ered; and that enemy, foreign or domestic, individ- 
 ual or state, who lends unseen his hand to injure 
 it, inflicts a wound he never can heal; he takes a 
 jewel which never can enrich him, but makes the 
 nation poor indeed. As United States we may 
 conquer a world of enemies. As individual states. 
 we must become an easy prey to every foe. It 
 is our interest, and should be our pride to be re- 
 cognized by no other name than citizens of America, 
 and our grand object should be, to guard with jealous 
 «care the federal union, that great palladium of our 
 honour, liberty and safety; its intrinsic value and 
 sovereign utility can never be duly appreciated-* un- 
 less we should unhappily forego this political blessing 
 
NOTES. 243 
 
 and be cursed with the loss of it The most ef- 
 fectual way to defend it is, by individual states 
 yielding up local privileges, which are in the nature of 
 things injurious to the whole nation. The states are 
 like men in society ; something must always be 
 yielded up, in order to make the whole secure; for 
 local relinquishments consolidate public happiness. 
 
 In order to secure the affections, and unite 
 the interests of the citizens, not of the individual 
 states, but the United States, (the title which keeps, 
 and which alone can keep the world, and particularly 
 the world of enemies in awe) and finally draw and 
 keep the mind of the country together, the dia- 
 bolical principle, which confers such a superabund- 
 ance of the paramount rights of suffrage and sover- 
 eignty, upon a part of the citizens, accordingly as 
 they enslave and murder their fellow men, to the 
 great injury of the virtuous and honourable part of 
 society this infernal practice, (which I again deli- 
 neate in order to expose it,) must be relinquished, or 
 the union must be dissolved, i. e. if the spirit of '76 
 is not completely obliterated out of the breasts of the 
 citizens of the north ; for it is not only an insult to 
 common sense, but degrading them to cowards, to 
 suppose, that they tamely see their sacred unaliena- 
 ble rights infringed by importations from Guinea. 
 
 There was recently an amendment made to tlie 
 constitution respecting the election of president of the 
 C c 
 
£44 NQTES. 
 
 United States. Why not amend the principle allud- 
 ed to? The constitution has provic^d ways and means 
 to amend its own defects. Why not embrace this 
 constitutional privilege, and eradicate this shameful 
 inequality? Is it not more eligible to accommodate 
 any misunderstanding that may exist between the dif 
 ferent states, in this way, than to do it by the force 
 of arms? Surely this would produce anarchy and in- 
 testine commotion, and who in such an event will be 
 the greatest sufferers I I answer, and I tremble while 
 I answer.. ..Oppressors ! For how could they stand 
 with injured innocence behind them, alias their in- 
 furiated slaves, and virtuous patriotism before them, 
 alias their insulted fellow citizens? who, perhaps, in 
 order to transmit to their children and their children's 
 children, that unadulerated freedom and rational lib- 
 erty for which they fought and bled, are necessitated 
 to take up the sword of virtuous defence, and prove 
 true to themselves ....their children, and the world of 
 mankind, by transmitting, with every mark of hon- 
 ourable conveyance, the inheritance they established 
 to posterity. 
 
 These simplified considerations, merit th e atten- 
 tion of all who are real friends to civil liberty, and 
 our incomparable constitution, and to the interest and 
 tranquility of the country at large. At any rate, no 
 injury can arise from an attempt to preclude the in- 
 troduction of anarchy, in preserving the balance of 
 
NOTES. 245 
 
 r among the state*. No individual family, o r 
 state, should have a preponderating influence in go- 
 vernment, as it is the property of the nation, to whom 
 it is responsible, by whom it is supported, and whose 
 interests it is bound to secure* It is not, nor indeed, 
 in the nature of things can be, the property of an 
 individual family or state ; and though in some coun- 
 tries it has been usurped into an inheritance; yet, this 
 cannot alter the nature of things; make wrong right 
 and right wrong ! as sovereinty belongs exclusively to 
 the nation, it is certain the community has an inhe- 
 rent, indefeasible right to abolish any political prin- 
 ciple; nay, even the government itself, whenever 
 they find it is inconvenient, and alter > or recognize 
 it, so as to accord with their interests, happiness and 
 local circumstances. 
 
 Should the alarm which is so generally felt, result- 
 ing from the revival of the slave-trade in America, 
 and the purchase of Louisiana, which will take at 
 least 15,000,000 of slaves to cultivate it, and the 
 American minister aiErms; that it can only be cul- 
 tivated by slaves!" 
 
 I say, admitting our fears to be only imaginary our 
 arguments futile, and the prospects before us a mere 
 farce, still, no inconvenience can result from a pru- 
 dential caution. But if we are really in danger, from 
 the ambitious projects of an aspiring state ; from the 
 
246 NOTES. 
 
 avaricious procedure of the advt>cates of slavery .« 
 
 Let us not aggravate the misfortune, by the omission 
 of any constitutional means of shunning such formi- 
 dable calamities. 
 
 I have enlarged this note to a much greater length 
 than I expected; impressed with a real solicitude 
 for the honour, safety, and happiness of my fellow- 
 citizens, and th ft government which is their greatest 
 boast and admiration of the world. The subject 
 matter I conceive to be of the most interesting na- 
 ture, though unmethodically arranged, and my last ad„ 
 monition to my compatriots is, That they may ever 
 bear in mind, that in a free government, when public 
 faith and virtue droop, the republic begins to nod to 
 its fall, and without a speedy reformation, will inevi- 
 tably crumble into ruins. According to my political 
 creed, a virtuous individual is in miniature, what a 
 government of them is in magnitude. The hest in- 
 dividual, who forsakes the paths of rectitude and vir- 
 tue, and plunges into wickedness, accelerates his 
 own ruin, and his antecedent comforts foregoes; and 
 thus the best governments on earth that wilfully for- 
 sake the paths of political rectitude, who wink at vil- 
 ( lany and patronise fraud, either virtually or literally, 
 undermine the foundation on which they are erected, 
 and facilitate their certain downfall* The premature 
 fate of the governments of antiquity, will prove the 
 validity of this assertion to a demonstration, and we 
 
NOTES. 2* 
 
 I include several in modern times; particularly 
 St. Domingo, which should be a sufficient warning to 
 the tyrants of America, to desist speedily from a com- 
 merce pregnant with the seeds of inevitable de struc. 
 tion, and they should never forget the old proverb, 
 namely, " that opportunity lost can never be recall- 
 ed" 
 
 Page 24, line 2* 
 
 That 'tis not void of hospitality. 
 
 The inhabitants of Congo are j«ninently civil,cour- 
 teous and very hospitable to strangers. Tbey believe 
 in one God, the Author of all things ; they conceive 
 him to be a munificent Being, and that he requires 
 his creatures to be such- They appear, likewise, to 
 have a confused apprehension of a future state. Such 
 is their generosity, that a beggar is not to be seen in 
 the kingdom. Theft is punished by confiscation, but 
 adultery with death ; and the delinquents' bodies are 
 cast to the birds and beasts of prey to be devoured, 
 which is considered as a great disgrace and punish- 
 ment. They discover a good understanding ; are re- 
 markable for the respect children pay to their pa- 
 rents, wives to their husbands, &c Finally, they are 
 the most philanthropic people I ever was among ; — 
 which I had an opportunity to prove, while travelling 
 
248 M)TES* 
 
 alone in their woods, at a particular period, depend- 
 ing upon their bounty for my support, and being fully 
 in their power. I have found them (I solemnly de- 
 clare) more hospitable than many professors of reli- 
 gion in Europe or America. 
 
 Page 39, Line 5th. 
 
 Hawkins byname, &c. 
 
 It was about the year 1551, that the English com- 
 menced their trade to Guinea. Some time after this, 
 Sir John Hawkins equipped a little fleet to trade for 
 slaves. He landed a number of men, armed with 
 swords and lances, (lances being at that time gener- 
 ally used in Europe, as well as Africa) to take the in- 
 habitants by force, and burn their town : but they 
 /met with such resistance, that they lost nearly as ma- 
 ny of their own men as they took slaves. Finding 
 this method too dangerous, they contrived a more 
 compendious way, by prevailing on the natives to 
 •make war on each other, and sell them their prison- 
 ers for trinkets, rum, warlike apparatus, &c. Till 
 this period, the natives seldom had any wars; where- 
 as, now they are continually enveloped in all the hor- 
 rors of sanguinary warfare, instigated by European 
 speculators. 
 
NOTES. 2f9 
 
 BOOK II. 
 Page 101, line 22\ 
 Laid Ebo waste, &c. 
 
 THE subsequent narrative of a battle between the- 
 natives of Africa, prior to my arrival there, was rela- 
 ted by the Ebo king to a citizen of America, who was 
 trading for slaves. 
 
 A party of hunters from one of the remote towns 
 of the Ebo country, had pursued their game beyond 
 what the Galla king considered his boundary, and 
 were met by a party of the latter people, likewise 
 hunting. They rrow commenced a pursuit of the 
 game, that had nearly been run down by the Ebo peo- 
 ple, but were not successful ; for one of the Ebo hun- 
 ters brought it down with his spear. The Galla hun- 
 ters sought to appropriate it to themselves ; a fray 
 ensued, one of the Galla people was killed, the rest 
 put to flight, and the game brought off in triumph, 
 though several of the Ebo people were wounded se- 
 verely. 
 
 Both parties were highly enraged. The Galla king 
 raised an army, invaded the country, burned two vil- 
 lages, carried off some cattle, and a few prisoners, 
 which he sold for slaves. The Ebo people were ter- 
 rified with the first successes of the enemy ; they al- 
 lotted a considerable force to oppose them ; several 
 
250 NOTES. 
 
 actions were fougtit, but the Ebo king was so much 
 the sufferer in each, that his army was nearly destroy* 
 ed. The Galla king encouraged by these successes, 
 and relying too much on the weakness of the Ebo 
 people, formed the resolution of subjugating tha 
 whole country to his rule. For thU purpose he col- 
 lected all his force, and spreading desplation as he 
 passed, crossed the great swamp to the N. W. in or- 
 der to avoid the circuit of the upper lands, and had 
 already approached within the distance of three miles 
 of the capital, where all the fugitives of the desola- 
 ted towns had taken refuge. 
 
 The city could be approached only by a narrow de- 
 file, through which the river passed, leaving a road on 
 that side next the city ; or by attempting the road 
 over the hills and through the woods, by which he 
 had entered. The Galla chief preferred the former ; 
 a party of the Ebo people who had escaped from bon- 
 dage, communicated the desiga; and the old Ebo 
 chief took his measures accordingly. He collected a 
 body of 200 picked men, supported by a body of 300 
 more, to guard the pass on the side next to the ene- 
 my. Over these as the reserve, he appointed his eld- 
 est son, and his own brother ; the rest of his army 
 he led himself, in two divisions : his second son head- 
 ing the left, in which his principal wives and their 
 brothers, were distributed. 
 
 The king shewed me the spot where he took hi? 
 
tes. 251 
 
 -station. It was an elevated spot of ground, covered 
 with large shady trees, inaccessible to the front ; but 
 overlooking the whole plain below, with which it 
 communicated by two paths at some distance to the 
 right and left. A path was opened, and a line of men 
 . hed along the top of the hill, to the edge of this 
 pass, to which he paid constant attention. 
 
 The Galla people attempted to march before sun 
 rise, but a large fire suddenly appearing on their right, 
 at the distance of about half a mile, occasioned them 
 *o halt : it ceased in a few minutes, but ha*l the effect 
 of dispiriting the Galla people ; who marched on 
 however, about an hour after. They advanced ra- 
 pidly, and soon descried the troops under the king's 
 eldest son, ready to receive them. The Galla people 
 began the attack by a discharge of arrows, which 
 was returned by the Ebo party ; and followed by a 
 second flight, before the Galla army expected it— 
 The Galla warriors then brandished their lances, clo- 
 sed their ranks, and made a vigorous attack on the 
 king's army, who being unprepared, threw by their 
 iwws, and closed in a compact body to receive them 
 with their spears. This opposition was short, for the 
 Ebo party fled into the narrow part of the pass, as if 
 panic struck, the Galia people pursuing them. The 
 two parties of the Eoo army now rallied on the inner 
 of a sloping ground ; and as the Galla people 
 <ted through the pass to pursue them, the. old 
 cc 2 
 
252 NOTES. 
 
 chief sallied from his recess, and commenced the at- 
 tack in the rear. The battle was now carried on with 
 the greatest vigour on both sides. The Ebo army 
 being sensible that this was their last and only hope, 
 fought with desperation ; while the Galla troops, no 
 less instigated by the desire of victory and plunder, 
 exerted themselves to the utmost. The slaughter 
 was terrible for a considerable time ; the Galla people 
 however, at last gave way, and fled in immense num- 
 bers to the river, among the foremost of whom was 
 their chief. He, however, rallied his troops on the 
 plain, in front of their camp. The numbers killed 
 already exceeded that of the Ebo army ; what re- 
 mained was still as numerous. The old Ebo chief 
 determined to pursue his success, while his people 
 were elated, and marched into the plain ; fate as yet 
 seeming to hold the balances of victory. 
 
 The attack was made by the eldest &on, but he was 
 met with such warmth and intrepidity by the enemy, 
 that his ranks gave way. He called aloud to them* 
 and drawing a circle round him with his sword, de- 
 clared, he never would quit the spot but with victory - 
 The people roused by his bravery, returned to the 
 charge, but before they could rescue him, he fell, co- 
 vered with wounds, and run through with lances. — 
 When his younger brother appeared, having carried 
 &U before him on th,e left, a more desperate action 
 
NOTES. 253 
 
 ensued ; the shouting of women* and children enliv- 
 ened the Ebo people, when the arrival of ihe old chief 
 and his brother, with their divisions, decided the vic- 
 tory in their favor. The enemy fought witn desper, 
 ation, but the old chief having attacked them in the 
 rear, no hope remained, and they who did not prefer 
 death, were made captives. Seven hundred were 
 taken prisoners, those who had remained in the Galki 
 camp to guard against surprise, took to flight; num- 
 bers of them were taken by the women and scattered 
 inhabitants, who pursued them for two days. The. 
 king but with few followers, effected his escape with 
 much difficulty, while most of the principal warrior^ 
 were among the captives. 
 
 The Ebo king lost, beside his eldest son, his bro- 
 ther who fell in the conflict, and three of his wives* 
 The old man conducted me to the spot, and I could 
 not but be sensibly affected at the tenderness which 
 he displayed, when speaking of them on this scene 
 of their valour and death. He appeared to me on this 
 ©ccasum, in point of view very different from what 
 
 * The stout young women engage in most of the expe* 
 ditions throughout the whole country. This being an ex- 
 traordinary occasion , and utter ruin or conquest being the 
 alternative, the ycung boys and girls followed their 
 
254, MOTES- 
 
 he had at any time before ; so that I esteemed the 
 man now, whom I before considered as the savage, 
 [Hawkins' Voyages, page 78. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 Page 12, line 16. 
 
 And save them from, &c. 
 
 I do not here by any means pass a reflection on any 
 denomination of people ; for I love alt men indiscri- 
 minately, especially good men, and without distinc- 
 tion : yet I consider it as absurd to profess religion 
 without Christian philanthropy in the heart, as it 
 vould be in a ploughman, unacquainted with his 
 a, b, c, to pretend to be a proficient in literature. 
 Every body knows, or ought to know, that pure love 
 to God and man is the quintessence of religion ; and 
 heaven's king gives us many opportunities to prove 
 the validity of our love to God, by our humility, obe- 
 dience and resignation, and to our neighbours, by our 
 benevolence, hospitality ,and sympathetic philan- 
 thropy. 
 
 parents to this action, and contributed by their presence to 
 rsnder it decisive. 
 
N01 ' 255 
 
 How too many modern professors prove the validity 
 of their religion, multitudes of sceptics and infidels, 
 impious exultation declare. The want of the true 
 principle in Christians, has made more proselytes to 
 deism, and enemies to revelation, than any other 
 thing whatever : whereas the unparalleled chari- 
 ty of the primitive Christians, made more con- 
 verts to Christianity, than all their preaching. View- 
 ing their love and friendship for mankind in general, 
 and their brethren in particular, the astonished hea- 
 thens were constrained to exclaim, See bow these 
 Christians love ! They not only professed, but by their 
 actions proved, that their love to mankind was unsul- 
 lied, fervent and sincere; and without this love or 
 religion, it is impossible for persons, (no matter what 
 their professions or pretensions may be) to enter the 
 kingdom of God, which I will prove to a demonstra- 
 tion, from one single argument. The immaculate 
 Judge and Saviour of the world has positively and 
 personally declared, that he will make use of these 
 identical addresses, and apply them wlchout defalca- 
 tion, to the whole human family, convened at the ge- 
 neral judgment seat the last day ; " Depart frcm 
 me, ye cursed ; for I was an hungered, and ye took 
 me not in; naked, and ye clothed me not; I was 
 sick, and ye visited me not ; I was in prison, and ye 
 came not unto me." — Or thus : u Come ye blessed 
 of my Father ; for I was an hungered, and ye gave 
 
256 NOTES. 
 
 me meat ; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink . 
 I was a stranger and ye took me in, naked and ye 
 clothed me ; I was sick and ye visited me ; I was in 
 prison and ye came unto me." How solemn the day 
 —how speedy ita approach — how horrible the sen. 
 tence, Depart — How exhilarating the invitation* 
 Come. Were I to ask the character, professor or 
 profane, who lives in the habitual neglect of these 
 good works, if he expected to go to heaven when he 
 died, he would no doubt answer in the affirmative* 
 Were I to ask him at the same time, if he supposed 
 the Almighty could, on any consideration be prevailed 
 noon *o ell a lie, he would answer in the negative. 
 What a contradiciion in terms and ideas I What an 
 in&ult to common sense I What a burlesque ! A person 
 who believes in the scriptures, to suppose that the 
 just judge of quick and dead will or can declare a pal- 
 pable falsehood in the presence of assembled worlds 
 The oare supposition is blasphemy a'gaiust the veraci- 
 ty jf heaven. Can any delinquent, by way of excuse, 
 plead vant of opportunity or ability * It is impossible. 
 Cannot rhe poor cast in his mite, or with tears of 
 sympathetic commiseration, and words of consolation f 
 at leasr endeavour to alleviate the distresses of the 
 needy? ¥\?s, and consequently to the poor, as well a$ 
 the rich, the foregoing address will be applicable.- 
 
fOTES. 257 
 
 BOOK III. 
 Pace 99. line 5. 
 So shall our arms, &c. 
 
 Louverture, no doubt, felt all the enthusiastic fire 
 of liberty glowing within his capacious bosom, at 
 this awfu 1 crisis, which the degraded and miserable 
 subjects of France experienced when they first willed 
 to be free. 
 
 The French revolution, with the concomitant chr- 
 cumstances attending it, was certainly a great phe- 
 nomenon, especially in the political world. When 
 we reflect upon the exordium which prefaces 
 the declaration of the rights of men and citizens, pro- 
 mulgated by the national assembly of France ; when 
 we reflect on the subject matter of that declaration,* 
 and the majestic appearance of a nation opening its 
 commission under the auspices of heaven; shaking off 
 its shackles, discarding its local prejudices and senti- 
 mental prepossessions, and resolving to be free, we 
 are struck with amazement; particularly when we 
 ke«p in mind the prostituted state of politics in Eu- 
 
 * The reader will find this declaration transcribed verba- 
 , in my " Desultory Letter to Napolfn Bonaparte'* 
 pare 272. 
 
 d d 2 
 
25* NOTES. 
 
 rope at that time. When we take a retrospective 
 view of the thousands, nay millions, who were sacri- 
 ficed to accelerate and consolidate the organization 
 of the Trench republic, we are not surprised; for the 
 instant we enquire the reason so many persons were 
 slaughtered at the revolution, we find an answer by 
 taking a view of the degraded state of the ignorant 
 mob or swinish multitude. They arise as the natura 
 c onsequences of despotism, and are the fruits of legal 
 barbarity. In all arbitrary governments, in order to 
 exalt some men, many are debased, till the whole is 
 out of nature. 
 
 While the artificial nobleman is. consuming thou- 
 sands sterling out of the public taxes to maintain his 
 superiority, his domestics, and his concubines arc 
 magnificently dressed, his horses and his bounds are 
 luxuriantly fed, a great extent of land is appropriated 
 as a park for him to hunt in, while the annual pro- 
 duction of grain is not equal to the national-consump- 
 tion. Finally, he spends his life in affluence, luxury, 
 and dissipation, but cannot enjoy even what he pos- 
 sesses, as abundance cloys, while mediocrity satisfies. 
 The nobleman, by nature, has to cultivate an acre or 
 two of his land, for which he pays an extravagant 
 rent, labors incessantly, lives poorly, and is insulted 
 daily; his taxes high, his tythes higher, and the impe- 
 tuous toae of his noble lord highest. His children are 
 
NO J 259 
 
 raised with degradation, without information, or any 
 ct, but vassalage with contamination; for as 
 oor, though noble man has to pay taxes even for 
 his bread and salt, as well as every other commodity, 
 and pay tythes, for all he possesses, however little, he 
 can scarcely feed, much less educate his offspring, 
 with all his industry; they are consequently reduced 
 below the state of savages; for they have but few 
 wants, and nature supplies them : but the poor, igno- 
 rant, untaught, vulgar multitude, have many wants, 
 and no means to supply them, but by robbery or re- 
 bellion. Hence so many, not of the rich, but of the 
 poor, are daily executed; and hence, in revolutions, 
 these poor unhappy persons are as furious as bears 
 robbed of their cubs. In short, the evils and miseries 
 attending despotism and aristocracy, are so many 
 and various, that it would take volumes to contain 
 them. I am astonished out of measure, when I see 
 people, and poor people too, in America, attemping 
 to vindicate the rights of those right honourable and 
 right reverend tyrants, to oppress their fellow men, 
 
 and grind the face of the poor I think, at times. 
 
 they deserve to feel the iron hand of despotism them- 
 selves.. ..then they would know better. When I con- 
 template the natural dignity of man, who was made 
 the image of God; and at the same time view a vast 
 mass of mankind,degradingly thrown back in the hum- 
 an picture,to bring forward with greater glare, the state 
 
260 NOTES- 
 
 and magnificence of a set of the most dissipated, im* 
 just and ungenerous mortals, I can scarcely avoid be- 
 ing irritated at these impostors, and disgusted at those 
 who suffer themselves to be thus imposed on. And 
 this inequality is not confined to politics; religion al- 
 so is made apackhorse for tyrants to ride to hell upon, 
 and a cloak to hide the ecclesiastical oppressor's clo- 
 ven foot, with which he tramples upon the supersti- 
 tious croud, who worship, and even kiss the foot 
 that kicks them. Many horrible instances might be 
 given of this ; one must suffice. A nominal religious 
 man, called an archbishop, in christianized countries, 
 is allowed a salary of 40,000 pounds per annum, to 
 preach the gospel of a self-denying Redeemer ; he 
 will, perhaps, officiate twice a year, his curate 2Q0 
 times, who is a real religious man ; yet he is only al- 
 lowed 40 pound per year to support a large family 
 of children upon. This plain matter of fact cannot 
 £>e contradicted- For this, and a variety of other 
 reasons, the ignorant multitude are furious, and not 
 to be restrained at the commencement of a revolu- 
 tion, and are rather the followers of the camp, than 
 the standard of liberty ; and they are to be pitied, ra- 
 ther than to be reproached, all the sin resulting from 
 revolutions or rebellions, lie at the doors of oppressors, 
 who are the primary cause of them. If we look back 
 en the riots, tumults and rebellions in the govern- 
 
OTES. 2G5 
 
 <m 
 guineas, that I would present one half to God 
 
 by distributing it amongst these poor objects. Hence 
 
 at such moments of sympathetic redaction, with 
 
 heartfelt grief I often exclaim, 
 
 " When Oh / my God, shall come the . 
 
 To make trie greatly bless* d 9 
 When I may find it in my povt'r 
 
 To succour the oppressed? 
 
 In vain alat ! my heart o'erjlovs 
 
 With useless tenderness s 
 Why must 1 feel my brother's tooa 
 
 And cannot make them less ? 
 
 Then why this torture still endureP 
 
 I not reserved for me 
 To ease the sighing of the poor, 
 And set my brethren free*' 
 
 From these considerations, I hope my reader 
 pardon these digressions, and permit the weaknc 
 rather tenderness of my feelings, to plead my excuse. 
 
 Passing by, therefore, all that might be said, 
 will let a few spontaneous teflections suffice, respect. 
 ing the changing scenes attending the French revolu- 
 tion, including the ingenious subtlety and unparal. 
 hypocrisy of her tyrant, which history will faith 
 hand down to posterity ; and we will briefly take 
 ike of the greatest of all phenomena, the corona- 
 
266 NOTES. 
 
 tion of Bonaparte, who, though equal to Robespierre 
 in cruelty, is far superior to him in guile and fascina^ 
 ting sophistry ; which this unexpected event abun- 
 dantly proves, and which I consider as the most con- 
 summate piece of villainy ever acted on the face of 
 the universe. This occurrence proves, that religious 
 as well as political apostacy, has become of late fami- 
 liar, not only to the demagogues, but many of the ci- 
 tizens of France and potentates of Europe, The 
 people of France, after many invincible struggles, at 
 last burst their manacles asunder, asserted their na- 
 tive rights and unalienable privileges, formed, or en- 
 deavoured to form a representative government, and 
 a constitution upon principles of civil liberty ; but for 
 the want of stability, precaution, watchfulness and 
 public virtue, they have from time to time become 
 the dupes of restless, ambitious and enterprising ad- 
 venturers, who, in conjunction with ruffians delight- 
 ing in disorder and innovation, endeavour to ac- 
 celerate contention and produce anarchy, that they 
 might thereby have an opportunity of mounting the 
 chariot of commotion with the loosened reins of con- 
 fusion, the whip of civil war, and with steeds of des- 
 potism, to ride upon the storm, and enslave the peo- 
 ple. The reason mankind are so wretchedly befool- 
 ed, and robbed of their dearest rights and privileges, 
 is, first, they are not sufficiently jealous of those they 
 
NOTES. 267 
 
 Est with power ; secondly, it is difficult for a na 
 tion, habituated for centuries to slavery, ignorance 
 and degradation, to be taught in the school of civil 
 liberty, and to become proficients in practical as well 
 as theoretical republicanism. 
 
 Notwithstanding this difficulty, were it not for in- 
 terested demagogues and ambitious despots, nations 
 who once anticipated the sweets of liberty would not 
 easily forego its precious blessings. To say, as 
 many of the advocates of despotism, that mankind 
 are not capable of enjoying the super-excellent bles- 
 sing of rational freedom, is infamous calumny ; it is 
 an infamous falsehood, an insult to the human fami- 
 ly, it is in short degrading them far beyond the brute 
 creation : for that many brutes do enjoy their liberty-. 
 and yet are not injurious to civil society, is a stubborn 
 fact ; by saying that men are not fit for freedom is to 
 make chains, stripes, insults, starvation and degrada- 
 tion their choice ; the domineering frowns and impe- 
 rious commands of tyrants their delight, and peace, 
 plenty, domestic happiness and national freedom at 
 home and respect abroad, the objects of their detes- 
 tation ; but as facts are superior to reasoning, the in- 
 stance of America presents itself to give the lie to 
 such infamous calumnies. Every age becomes still 
 more proficient in wickedness, and especially in des- 
 potism ; hence modern despotism is, In maturity, 
 what the despotism of antiquity was in minority; — 
 
263 NOTES. 
 
 mow villany is systematical, then it was unmethorij- 
 zed. The executive conduct of the French usurper, 
 exhibits his political hypocrisy with a witness, and 
 his systematic villany without disguise ; not content 
 with becoming a first consul, under the pretence of 
 acting for the benefit of the citizens of France ; still 
 professing to be a friend to the people and a firm vo- 
 tary of republicanism, he effected change after change, 
 BUT FIRST ORGANIZED A STANDING AR- 
 MY, WITHOUT WHICH HE NEVER COULD 
 HAVE ENSLAVED THE PEOPLE OF FRANCE, 
 but would long ere now have met the premature fate 
 of Robespierre. From a first consul he has with long 
 and hasty strides attained emperorship, with all the 
 hypocritic solemnity and magnificence of royalty, 
 thus the people who spilt rivers of human blood to 
 establish a representative government, and to trans- 
 mit this blessing to their children, for the want of 
 prudent jealousy and watchfulness, have been forced 
 to aggrandize the monster that has robbed them o* 
 millions of lives, and billions of treasure ; nay, to 
 spend 30,000,000 Of dollars, exacted from the mouth 
 of labour, to place him on the throne of Louis XVI. 
 while his crown is placed on the head of a wajidering 
 adventurer. This is the effect of entrusting any man 
 sruetof men with power; then let America behold,, 
 take warning and shun the snare, the fatal rock «n 
 
NOTES. 271 
 
 biood of thousands, murdered in cool blood, and millions 
 slaughtered in his anger: who Waded through seas of hu- 
 man blood to imperial honor, regardless of the widow's and 
 the orphan's cries, whose relatives died in the caose of liber- 
 ty. It will appear evident to ev«ry discerning mind, that 
 he is a second Jehu, the scourge of Europe, and perhaps o f 
 the world, for his ambition aims at universal dominion j— 
 his coronation, the encouragement and patronage which the 
 sovereign pontiff gave him, in applying to him the epithet 
 of * c Our beloved son in Jesus Christ, Napoleon s'* this* 
 with a catalogue of absurdities too tedious to mention, will 
 have one glorious tendency at any rate; namely, to con- 
 vince both friends and foes, who are not wilfully ign 
 and superstitiously blind, of the inconsis: .V:en^ 
 
 cy, futility and absurdity of popery and monarchy. Though 
 I do not pretend to prophecy, yet I must affirm, that the 
 conduct of his holiness the pope in the instances here 
 ced, gives the death blow to his infallibility 5 is a p 
 nary to the annihilation of his ecclesiastical sovei^ 
 is a sign of approaching reformation amongst a lar 
 tion of mankind, and seems to be a literal fulfilment .: 
 the prophecy of Daniel.* Any person who has perused an 
 
 «' * And arms 6 ball stand on his part, ard shall pollute 
 :r.ctuary of strength, and they shall place the abomi' 
 > iwbi 5 makes desolate" Daniel % 31* 
 f f 
 
272 NOTES. 
 
 account of the coronation 5 the apparent solemnity and 
 reverential awe that was displayed ; the seeming religious 
 ceremonials 5 the hypocritical pretences of the self- created 
 emperor j and above ail, the presence and approbation of 
 the head of the catholic church, must be convinced, that 
 thise^entis exceedingly portentous and eventful. Little 
 does his imperial majesty, Napoleon I. his holiness pope 
 Pius VII. think, that like the Jews who crucified the Son 
 of God, they are fulfilling some of the most important and 
 nteresting prophecies of the old and new Testaments. Bu* 
 I must forego theological animadversions in this place, as 
 the friends of despotism who love to see contentions about 
 religion, and to keep people ignorant of their natural rights, 
 would be glad to have it in their power to stigmatize my ar- 
 guments with tha epithet of cfr fanaticism." They are wil- 
 ling we should look this way, that way, or any way, but the 
 right way. They are also willing we should discuss any 
 subject but the simplicity of civil government, which they 
 exhibit as some very mysterious phenomenon, although it is 
 the most simple thing in nature 5 viz. " a national associa - 
 tion, acting on the principles of society," and though 
 the religion of Christ is still more simple ; namely, pure 
 love to God and man, they exhibit it as something very 
 wonderful, filled with mysteries and ceremonies which the 
 vulgar multitude should not by any means meddle with. 
 
 I appeal to every man's conscience, whether friends or 
 foes, to decide if it was reasonable, much less scriptural > 
 for the man who professes to be the legal successor of St, 
 Peter, and God's vicegerent oft earth, to seal the' unparafc 
 
NOTES. 273 
 
 icled guilt of a monster in human form, with a sacred ap- 
 .:ion, and public plaudits, to the scandal of his disci- 
 ples and supporters, ayvd the annihilation of their faith. If 
 ouch iniquity has been acted in the house of God, must n?t 
 udgment begin there ? If we judge men by their conduct, 
 what difference is there between the supreme pontiff and 
 the high priest of the Goddess of reason ? At a former 
 period, the demagogues who directed the storms of anarchy 
 in France commanded, and lo ! the high priest exhibited 
 his goddess of reason, crowned her with garlands, and paid 
 her homage. At a recent period the usurper commanded, 
 and lo ! the high priest of the catholic church instantly 
 manufactured him into a beloved son in Jesus Christ, and 
 then metamorphosed him to a magnificent emperor, with all 
 the ensigns and elegance of royalty, while the wondering, 
 cheated multitude, worshippeJ the diabolical invtntfon. 
 
 I will no doubt bung upon my head the ei*cration and 
 defamation of the enemies of revelation and the opposers 
 of emancipation, for advocating the rights of men precipi- 
 tated into an abyss of degradation and superstition ; but I 
 have my witness in heaven, that so far from wishing to 
 give offence, it is with regret and not with exultation I drag 
 the antecedent animadversions into view. I do not by any 
 means attempt to discuss the merits or demerits of the ca- 
 tholic religion, or investigate the former or subsequent con- 
 duct of the present pope, or any pope that ever filled a papal 
 throne. But it may be answered, " you may as well pierce 
 i man's body as lopp off his head.'* This I cannot help, it 
 tj duty, and a duty in which I delight, to admire, and 
 
£74 NOTES. 
 
 eulogize virtue though clothed in rags and seated on a dung- 
 hill, and to bear a testimony against vice, whether seated on 
 a ra->al or an imperial throne. The fact is, virtue in rags 
 is a* amiable to the impartial King of heaven as it is when 
 arrayed in robes of state and fringed with flowers of gold . 
 and vice versa as it respects vice. As the conduct of his 
 holiness in the instance adduced makes it necessary for me 
 to exhibit it to popular animadversion, the fault is less mine 
 than his j for I would fooner offend all the members of the. 
 -catholic church, if they are so unreasonable and ungenerous 
 as to get offended for particularizing a simple fact, and i n 
 as delicate a manner as I possibly can, than to offend God 
 in not doing it j and as I am willing to apologize to the 
 members of that church (who are good christians, for there 
 1 s good and bad amongst all denominations) for the liberty 
 I have taken, or the inadvertent offences I have given in 
 discussing this subject, I think his holiness should also 
 make his apology for giving the cause. I believe I am cor- 
 re~t, when I affirm, that my arguments in this work, whe- 
 ther philosophical, theological, or political, are reasonable, 
 though unmethodical : they are in short the simple matter 
 of fact 5 and the more f;uth is simplified, the more resplen- 
 dent it appears. Indeed, all it asks or wants, is the liberty 
 of appearing. To attempt to adorn truth with the flowers 
 of rhetoeic, is like painting a diamond, in order to beauti- 
 fy it: However, such is my situation in life and relative 
 avocations, tha: so far from having time and opportunity to 
 adorn my arguments with flowers, my poem has undergone 
 hut one transcription, and these notes have not bttn trans- 
 
• rE& 
 
 :o 
 
 i at all. Some days I have been interrupted almost 
 hourly, while the nights were the most favorable moments I 
 enjoyed in depicting them even as they are. 
 
 I will here beg leave to represent to my readers a circum- 
 stance relative to myself, which will tend to illustrate this 
 topic. When I was a young Roman Cacholic, I was a re- 
 markably zealous devotee : I believed, for indeed I was 
 taught so, that no person, rnwever virtuous and holy, who 
 lived and died out of the pales of our church could be saved. 
 I believed in the infallibility of the pope. When I went to 
 "onfess my sins to the priest, I believed his a. solution was 
 sufficiently efficacious to obliterate all my immoralities. In 
 short, I believed in the neceffity of doing penance, and act- 
 ed accordingly, and yet I was as wicked as my neighbours. 
 However, being at last, through the illuminating grace of 
 God, convinced of the many improprieties which I recog- 
 nized, and which I do not wish here to particularize, I 
 withdrew from the church in which I was both baptized 
 and confirmed, and became a protectant. I was of course 
 Condemned, especially by my relatives, as an heretic, in 
 danger of hell's fire, trnugh I loved and endeavoured to 
 serve my Redeemer a thousand times more, after to 
 my abjuration than before to it. After this period I 
 c ould not by any means, consistent with the canon laws of 
 the catholic church, be received again, (although I did not 
 turn Turk) without recantation, public penance and abso- 
 lution. 
 
 Passing by the impolicy of the pope's conduct, as a 
 ff2 
 
Stffi NOTES* 
 
 terinus precedent to other entetprising demagogues, and the 
 impiety of it as a fatal wound to the cross of Christ and 
 the holiness which the gospel inculcates, I will prove to a 
 demonstration from the canon law of the catholic church, 
 the solidity and authenticity of my arguments. Bonaparte 
 was an acknowledged deist in Robespierre's reign ; a Turk, 
 or rather a Mahometan, in Egypt ; a great republican when 
 he mounted his consular throne, and an aristocrat when he 
 assumed his imperial robes. I say, this same Bonaparte, 
 was to all intents and purposes excommunicated from the 
 catholic church, of which he was previously a member ; he 
 did not make any recantation, get absolution, or perform 
 public penance for his accumulated crimes and hypocritical 
 apostacy, in his desertion from Christ to Mahomet in 179S 
 —consequently he is no more a member of the Romish 
 church than I am, or rather than the Grand Seignior is. 
 Wherefore it would be more consistent with reason, revela- 
 tion and common sense, for the pope to consecrate one of 
 Mahomet's priests a christian potentate, than Bonaparte 5 
 for the one, although a heathen, might not be a hypocrite , 
 or be one day a christian, and the next an infidel or a hea- 
 then, according as it answered his interested purposes. In 
 qfrort, whether I view the coronation and the circumstances 
 attending it, behind or before, sideways or anyway, I must 
 come to this conclusion 5 that it is a prodigy, especially fa 
 the political world, that never had a precedent, and perhaps 
 may never have a parallel. 
 
 The situation of the people cf France is truly wretched 5 
 for although the coronation and exaltation of Napoleon I* 
 
NOTES. 277 
 
 be consecration and approbation of pope Pius VII. 
 t may not consolidate the power of the self-crea- 
 ted emperor, during the term of his natural life j yethisto- 
 ly, nay, common sense, and the nature of things will de- 
 monstrate, thit when he falls by the sword of a rival, the 
 : jd cup ot' an enemy, or by the judgments of the Al- 
 mighty, that moment France will be preci pitated into ail 
 the horrors of civil war, anarchy, and confusion, while the 
 same tragical scene must be re-acted over again. It is cer- 
 tain, however numerous his relatives or his progeny might 
 a the event of such a crisis, his dynasty must perish 
 with him j especially, while there are so many enterprising 
 generals in France, as ambitious, as avaricious, as auda- 
 cious, and as eager for imperial power as himself, and who 
 i or think they have, a better title and superior claims 
 to his throne than his children can have. Thus on account 
 of the lassitude, degeneracy and impolicy of the citizens of 
 France, they have not only plunged themselves into a terri- 
 I byrinth of despotism, degradation and infamy ; but 
 have virtually robbed their innocent smiling infants of their 
 future peace and liberty, and must leave them a prey to an- 
 archy and intestine commotion $ if they fight, it will be 
 perhaps for the choice of their tyrants, and experience no- 
 thing but continual infringements on their, native tights.— 
 Citizens of America ! view in sympathetic thought this 
 i:al catastrophe, and baware ! 
 
278 NOTES. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 Page 140, line 13. 
 
 ! in the Christians' blood might I allay. 
 
 The reader must bear in mind that in this part, and in- 
 deed throughout the whole poem, I have copied, or endea- 
 voured to copy nature. It would, therefore, be unnatural 
 to suppose, much less to paint an untutored savage exerci- 
 sing the cardinal graces peculiar to Christianity. In many 
 parts of the uncivilized world, the natives conceive it a re- 
 ligious duty which they owe to their friends who die by the 
 hand of the assasin, not only to pray to heaven for venge- 
 ance, but to punish the aggressor themselves. 
 
 Page 170, line 2o. 
 
 That one the sword, &c. 
 
 The Rev. John Wesley relates, in his thoughts upon 
 slavery, an incident that will tend to consolidate the above 
 description. 
 
 " The commander of a Guineaman, sent to acquaint an 
 African prince, that he wanted a cargo of slaves. The 
 king promised to furnish him ; and in order to it, set out, 
 designing to surprize some town, and make all the people 
 prisoners. 
 
 " Some time after, the king sent him word he had not 
 yet met with the desired success : having attempted to 
 treak up two towns, but were twice repulsed 5 notwithstan- 
 ding that he still hoped to procure a%imber of slaves. In 
 
NOTES. 283 
 
 nai mind to discriminate the things of God, as they 
 are spiritually discerned, as it is for an infant to read 
 latin. They look therefore to the professors of reli- 
 gion, to prove by their conduct that there is a realit) 
 in revelation. What is the consequence of their in- 
 vestigation ? They see such a contrast between their 
 practice and profession, that they condemn the whole 
 as fabulous, and plunge into one horrid labyrinth of 
 deism, and thus stumble over them into hell. Hypo- 
 critical professors are the radical cause of all this 
 spiritual evil, as immodest women are the cause of 
 temporal evil. Yet blessed be God, there are still 
 many virtuous prudent women, and pious, holy men 
 in our world, for whose sake God suspends his threa- 
 tening judgments from bursting on our guilty heads; 
 but will he suffer such wickness forever to accumulate- 
 and prosper ? It is impossible. 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 Page 213, Line 5. 
 Launched in a moment, &c. 
 
 AS I have studiously avoided introducing theolog- 
 ical matter into this work, for reasons already given, 
 I flatter myself it will be neither uninteresting or 
 unentertaining to introduce in this note, a (qw mis- 
 
284 NOTES. 
 
 cellaneous articles from the book of creation. Our 
 Almighty Maker, in condescension to the weakness 
 of our faculties, the brevity of our lives, and our 
 many avocations, has comprised all the knowledge 
 conducive to our real happiness, in four volumes, viz. 
 the book of Revelation— Nature— Providence— and 
 the book of the Heart. As I conceived the lesions in 
 the book of nature to be irresistible, energetic, and 
 not to be confuted, and consequently most calculated 
 to convince tjtants of the iniquity of their conduct, 
 the disapprobation of heaven, and the dissimilarity 
 between their works, and those of their Creator, I 
 have therefore exhibited, or endeavoured to exhibit, 
 a specimen, and only a specimen, of the munificence 
 of Jehovah, depicted on all his works, in hopes 
 it may have a tendency to make oppressors blush, 
 their crimes foTego, and no more insult the fcreator, 
 by destroying his creatures, the noblest works of his 
 Almighty hands. To atttempt to conyince a tyrant 
 by scripture, is, in my opinion, like administering 
 medicine to a dead man. The cogency and super- 
 excellence of the sacred volume is spiritually descri- 
 •bed ; and tyrants, while they continue such, are sold 
 under sin. Notwithstanding this last book of the 
 poem is especially intended as an answer to their fu- 
 tile arguments in favour of slavery, I hope it will be 
 likewise acceptable to the sincere christians of all de- 
 nominations. That path of life which the greater 
 
NOTES. 285 
 
 part of them are appointed to tread, allows but lit- 
 tie opportunity for philosophical researches ; and the 
 rittle leisure they enjoy, is more properly devoted 
 to the study of the book of grace,than the book of 
 ifature. At the same time, I conceive a sketch of 
 Christian philosophy is calculated to elevate the mind 
 with transcendant honorable thoughts of God,and to in- 
 flame the heart with adoration, exaltation, and admira- 
 tion of him. It is observed by an inspired author, that 
 the heavens declare the glory of God, and the firma- 
 ment sheweth his handy works. 
 
 Nothing can be more becoming man than to inves- 
 tigate the obvious works of Deity, with this design 
 that he may excite in himself, through the assisting 
 grace of God, these devout affections, and that su- 
 perlative respect and veneration, which are the quin- 
 tessence of that praise, which is his reasonable as 
 well as religious service. Are we inclined to cherish 
 gratitude — to be stimulated to the delightful duty of 
 praise ? the means are at hand. His glorious magni- 
 ficent and munificent works continually present them- 
 selves to the indiscriminate inspection of the savage 
 and the sage, the saint and the sinner, the christian, 
 and the heathen, the potentate and the peasant, in ? 
 wonderful, an instructive, and entertaining manner. 
 We may reasonably conclude from profane, as well as 
 sacred history, the antiquity as well as utility of this 
 employment. Even God himself has been understood 
 to intimate, when concerning the heavenly bodies, he 
 
286 NOTES- 
 
 spake thus •• Let them be for sigm, and for seasons, atxi 
 for daysj and for years* By the Jewish rabbins we are 
 informed, that Adam, in his state of innocence, had 
 an extensive knowledge of astronomy. Josephus tells 
 us that the antideluvians were acquainted with this 
 science. The longevity of the patriarchs* afforded 
 many opportunities for astronomical observations. 
 
 This noble study, the patriarch Abraham, who was 
 a native of Chaldea, is supposed to have in an emi- 
 nent degree promoted. The knowledge collected 
 from the traditional history of creation ; the contem- 
 plation of the heavens and the earth ; the experience 
 of succeeding generations, and the various gradual 
 discoveries of the attributes and purposes of the Al- 
 mighty, which had been by the long-lived patriarchs 
 transmitted from age to age, he no doubt was solici- 
 tous to diffuse among his cotemporaries. In the 
 contemplation and study cf the works of creation and 
 providence, the devout part of mankind of every age 
 
 * The patriarchs before the food, could readily retire 
 to many generations, such remarkable events as had 
 happened in their days ; and thus they supplied the place 
 vf history. Adam was 243 ygars cetemporaiy with Me" 
 thu+alem, ivho lived till the food ; Methusalem with 
 Noah 600 years, and with Shew 100 ; Shetn with Abrq* 
 hap*? ISO, and died ^b: 8 old* 
 
NOTES. 2a9 
 
 system which" universally prevailed, the earth was 
 considered an extended plain, surrounded by the o- 
 cean; and that the sun when he sets, dips into tbe 
 Western ocean ; and when he rises, emerges from the 
 eastern ; that the sun, moon and stars axe small lumi- 
 nous bodies, at no great distance from the earth, and 
 created solely for the purpose of illuminating it — - 
 This system, (though as unreasonable as to suppose 
 a cook, instead of turning the spit, should turn the 
 fire round the loin of beef, in order to roast it) was 
 for many ages, and among many nations, popular. — 
 Though how to ascertain on what foundation the 
 earth rested, or how to account for the velocity with 
 which the heavenly luminaries moved round it, they 
 knew not. 
 
 The honor of restoring and consolidating the 
 true solar system, belongs to Copernicus, a na- 
 tive of Thorn, born Anno Domini 1747. After 
 twenty years spent in contemplating the phenomena 
 of the heavens, in making mathematical calculations* 
 in examining the observations of the ancients, and 
 in making new ones of his own, he was of a firm 
 persuasion that the only true system was the Pytha- 
 gorean ; which makes the sun to be the centre, and 
 which makes the earth to move, not only round the 
 sun, but round its own axis. Thus he fully est.; 
 ed that system of the universe called the Copernican, 
 which is unanimously received by scientific men of all 
 
 nations 
 
 hh 
 
290 &0TE& 
 
 Page 200., Line 20. 
 The stranger's cause, &c. 
 
 If we may judge the human family by their relative 
 conduct, how few know, much less do the things 
 enjoined by God in the books of creation and revela- 
 tion. The particular duties we owe to our fellow 
 creatures are too numerous to be mentioned here ; 
 suffice it to say, when we neglect our duty to man 
 we violate the laws of God, which are calculated 
 for the private and public interest of every person, 
 and designed to promote our future, as well as pre- 
 sent happiness. Does he command us to love our 
 neighbours, to be merciful to them, and to do by 
 thfm as we would wish to be done by ? — Without 
 any manner of doubt. And to obey this command 
 is tantamount to participating the most exquisite ter- 
 restrial bliss. When he commands us to love God 
 with all our soul, mind and strength, it is the same as 
 if he should tell us to participate the jojr of angels, 
 and their supreme beatitude. Indeed, no other love 
 is worthy of him, he looks at the seat of the affec- 
 tions, and accepts nothing but what comes from 
 thence, Man. may deceive man with artificial love,, 
 but never, never can He deceive God. 
 
 I am well aware that many even of the professors 
 of religion, as well as the sons of dissipation, wi^ 
 shut their eyes, and steel their hearts against my rea- 
 >gning and solicitation, and will even. 
 
XOTES. 291 
 
 * l Laugh at the drop on misery's languid eye, 
 And see herbursting heart without a sigh." 
 
 They will not remember that they themselves in 
 following years, may be as indigent and wretched 
 as the poor unhappy persons whose cause I am plead- 
 ing. How often have I beheld, with just indigna' 
 tion, persons who rank high in society for religion* 
 and respectability, reasoning away that little compas- 
 sion they possessed, by calling to their aid (I had al- 
 most said that rascally virtue) interest. — I loose aft 
 equanimity, when I recollect the instances of inhuman- 
 ity I have witnessed : a few weeks ago I happened to 
 solicit a man of property, respectability, and religion, 
 
 for ti»o dollars, in behalf of the poor, he refused, 
 and advanced a strirg of arguments to justify the re- 
 fusal ; I, of course, fell from 200 to 50 cents, and was 
 determined to hang on till I got at least half a dollar; 
 r begged hard, as if I was begging for -my life, but 
 alas ! I begged in vain. Is he a man, or a monster ? 
 is lie a Christian or a brute ? Who can behold with 
 dry eyes and adamantine heart, the weeping orphan, 
 and disconsolate widow, whose half covered limbs 
 are shivering with cold, and worn out with hard labor* 
 are now turned ont to seek their food in the woods 
 
 tike the wild beasts ..Reader, view with 
 
 your intellectual eyes, the train of decripid oo- 
 approachi^g with solemn steps and slow ! — The 
 
292 WTES. 
 
 the friendly doors of charity; their limbs half cohered 
 with tattered garments, and emaciated by disease » 
 See that poor old slave with silver locks, propped on 
 his cain, -quivering as he goes, listen to his petition 
 from the feeble tongue of age, he was once as happy 
 and as rich as you, but, ah ! the cruel spoiler came." 
 XiOok in his furrowed face, and you will see that his 
 spirit is broken, and he is sinking with accumulated 
 and completed sorrow to the grave. Reader, will 
 you do me the justice to believe me, when I declard 
 to you, that many thousands of the unhappy Africans 
 die for want of food, and many more for want of 
 clothing. ..What heart can help feeling sympathy and 
 pity for this distressed race of men? Do not, use the 
 mean pitiful reflection, that their misery is the off. 
 spring of their own wickedness, away with such pal . 
 try subterfuges, and obey the first impulse of your 
 melting heart which begins to move your mind, and 
 awake you to pity. Obey the sacred impulse, and 
 cherish the first motions of compasion; resolve to let 
 tfie oppressed go free, and give relief to such as are 
 in want : and at the same time thank God for giving 
 yau the disposition, and opportunity to. lay up your 
 treasure in Heaven. Do not, I conjure you, draw 
 your hand out of you* punse. empty, from the consid- 
 eration, that the objects are not deserving your notice 
 or relief. Think for a moment if God acted in the 
 same manner by you, in giving you nothing but what 
 you deserved, wbere woirld vou be in. one moment ? 
 
NOTES. i93 
 
 I answer, in h^ll, lifting up your hopeless eyes and 
 begging for a drop of water to cool your parching 
 tongue. Read the parable of the rich man and La- 
 zarus, and it will instantly hush into eternal silence, 
 your doubts relative to the deserts of the poor, and 
 •' you'll quite forget their vkes in their woe»" Those 
 who know their own defects, are always ready to 
 make allowance for the defects of others. But alas ! 
 self ignorance will often hide, or excuse, or palliate 
 our own faults, and magnify and accuse those of our 
 neighbours. Were we to examine our conduct by the 
 light of divine truth, we should find enough to despise 
 and censure at home, and we should learn to spare the 
 feelings of the poor, and not suffuse the supplicating 
 countenance of the unfortunate, with confusion and 
 grief, which I am sorry to say is too often done. If we 
 would learn to be tender to one another, we should 
 be so to Africans. Of all the adorable attributes con- 
 nected and concomitant with the divine character, 
 none shines more transcendantly glorious, superlative- 
 ly estimable, and supereminently amiable, than the 
 attribute of MERCY. What angel can express,— 
 what mortal can conceive, the magnitude and univer- 
 sality of this super-celestial attribute ? It is like eter 
 nity without end, or immensity without bounds. 
 When we for a moment view with our intellectual 
 eyes, rhe infinitude of divine mercy, we are dazzled 
 
 h h 2 
 
294 NOTES. 
 
 with the resplendant sight ; it mocks even angelic 
 conception. A sense of his mercy emboldens the 
 humble penitent to look up to his heavenly Father, 
 and hope for happiness in another and better world. 
 This is his sheet anchor, his riches, his heaven. But 
 our business here is to consider mercy as it forms a 
 link in the chaiti of duties between man and man; 
 there is no duty more powerfully and repeatedly in- 
 culcated in the sacred scriptures than mercy. I will 
 go farther and boldly assert, there is no crime against 
 which more signal vengeance is denounced tban cru- 
 elty, which is the antipode of mercy. 
 
 We need not refer to the maledictions in the Bible 
 against the want of mercy. The voice of God in the 
 creation and in our own hearts, will abundantly de- 
 monstrate the truth of that important passage in the 
 gospel, " Blessed are the merciful, for they shall ob- 
 tain mercy :" and that beautiful and awful parable of 
 the unfeeling servant, will shew the propriety of re- 
 versing the above quotation, thus ; " Cursed are the 
 cruel, they shall not obtain mercy." I will introduce 
 a brief quotation from that important parable, that 
 the unfeeling reader .may see his own doom, unless he 
 repents and gets the religion of benevolence — alias — 
 love. It reads thus," Therefore is the kingdom of 
 heaven likened unto a certain king which would take 
 acconnt of his servants ; and when he had begun to 
 reckon, one was brought unto him which owed him 
 
NOTES. 295 
 
 ten thousand "talents ; but for as much as he had not 
 to pay, his lord commanded him to be sold, and his 
 wife and children, and all that he had, and payment 
 to be made ; the servant therefore fell down, and 
 worshipped him, saying, Lord, have patience with 
 me, and I will pay the all ; then the Lord of that 
 servant was moved with compassion, and loosed hirr. , 
 and forgave him the debt ; but the same servant 
 went out, and found one of hfc fellow. servants, which 
 owed him an hundred pence ; and h'e laid hands or* 
 him, and took him by the threat, saying, Pay me that 
 thouowest; and his fellow -servant fell down at his 
 feet, and besought him, saying, Have patience with 
 me, and I will pay thee all ; and he would not : but 
 he went and cast him into prison, till he should pay 
 the debt ; so when his fellow- servants saw what was 
 done, they were very sorry, and came, and told unto 
 their lord all that was done ; then his lord, after that 
 he had called him, said unto him,0 thou wicked ser- 
 vant, I forgave thee all that debt, because thou desir- 
 edst me ; should not thou also have had compassion 
 on thy fellow-servant, even as I had pity on thee ? — 
 And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the 
 tormentors, till he should pay all that was due unto 
 him; so likewise shall my heavenly Father do unto 
 you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his 
 brother his trespasses.'' 
 
 Is it net astonishing that the world should be filled 
 
296 NOTES. 
 
 with cruelty, violence, innocent blood, mountains of 
 human carnage ? and, in short, be made a slaughter- 
 house by man, who depends upon the mercy of God 
 for the air he breathes, the bread he eats, the water 
 he drinks, he clothes he wears,, and every accommo- 
 dation he enjoys \ Sure I am, the unmerciful man is 
 his own executioner ; he annihilates both his intellec- 
 tual and corporeal happiness ; for the human mind is 
 so constituted, that the tyrant is eternally punished by 
 his own vicious cruelty, which corrodes the finer feel- 
 ings, and even will eat out every germ of tranquilli- 
 ty. But on the other hand, the practice of benevo- 
 lence produces in the mind the most exquisitely plea- 
 surable sensations, infinitely superior to sensual grati- 
 fications ; it illuminates the soul with the reconciled 
 smiles of the divine majesty, as well as the sacred 
 sunshine of an approving conscience. Wherefore, 
 O reader, if thou wouldst participate the transports 
 of the heavenly host, be merciful to every living crea- 
 ture, animal, as well as human ; and if thou desirest 
 to anticipate the miseries of the damned in hell, only 
 be cruel, unfeeling, unmerciful. In short, to bring 
 t he argument to a focus, mercy is the offspring of 
 heaven, but cruelty the most horrible inmate of hell. 
 
 " 7 he quality cf mercy is not strain 9 d ; 
 It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven, 
 Upon the plant beneath. It is twice blessed, 
 It blessed him that gives, and him that takes." 
 
NOTES. 297 
 
 Thus where true mercy begins in the heart, it will 
 be evidenced by corresponding works of benevolence. 
 Tender mercy, without benevolent actions, is as im- 
 possible as the sun to shine without giving light. 
 
 The most effectual way to find happiness for our- 
 selves, M, by first endeavouring to promote it in 
 others. And even to do good by sXealth, is to render 
 our reward more exquisitely sweet and transcendant- 
 ly glorious, as this would be imitating fhe munificent 
 creation, by concealing the benefactor, and shewing 
 the benefit. This would be doing a generous deed in 
 a generous way, by Sparing the feelings of the unfor- 
 tunate, who too often are intellectually wounded, 
 while the hand of charity with pompous parade, is 
 extended to relieve their corporeal wants. Would 
 the sons of avarice relinquish their golden god and 
 became the votaries of benevolence, they would soon 
 regain tranquillity, and enjoy real peace. Then they 
 would contemplate the folly, infatuation, and absur- 
 dity of their antecedent pursuits, and like a sailor re« 
 cently snatched from a watery grave, and seated upon 
 a rock, contemplates the imrinent danger he esca- 
 ped, and is ready to stretch his hand to any of his 
 comrade, who may approach the rock whereon he is 
 3 will they embrace every opportunity to 
 :h from impending ruin the infatuated votaries .of 
 avarice and gensuali 
 
 Would men forego the luxuries, and content the*»- 
 i i 
 
;298 NOTES- 
 
 selves with the necessaries of life, we would not see. 
 half so much human wretchedness in the world. =-. 
 The rich spend the wealth God entrusted them with, 
 for benevolent purposes, on the most foolish, frivol- 
 ous, and often the most destructive trifles, without 
 
 ■ever making any reservation for God and his poor. 
 And while they thus rob the poor of their mite, they 
 rob themselves also of their happiness. For it is one 
 of the regulations of that universal justice that gov- 
 
 , erns the world, that excess shall he its own tormentor. 
 The few monopolizes the wealth of the many, either 
 by force or fraud ; consequently one part are cloyed 
 by abundance, and of course cannot enjoy it, while 
 the other are destitute of the necessaries of life, and 
 of course suffer for, want of it. The rich cannot en- 
 joy pleasure, because the attainment of it cost them 
 no trouble ; they never can enjoy what they possess, 
 because they are always coveting more, and dissatis- 
 fied with what they have. 
 
 Their wealth robs them of real pleasure — because 
 They are always outrunning their necessities. 
 
 Of course, disgust follows satiety, and debility follows 
 disgust. The perfume of a thousand rojses delights 
 for the moment, but the thorn inflicts a pain which 
 will last for hours. The sting of the bee is more 
 painful than the taste of the honey is sweet. Thus 
 ibis satiety and debility, produced by riches, gives 
 
more pai:: than its sweet gives pleasure ; and the 
 rich by spending their wealth in vanity, not only rob 
 thep ihilates their own present and eternal 
 
 happiness; which consists in mediocrity and benevo- 
 leuce. Yes, beneficence is the happiness of virtue, 
 and no happiness on earth can be more certain, more 
 secure, or more sacred ; because if death calls the 
 benevolent man, this felicity accompanies him to the 
 celestial paradise, where it will be enhanced a thousand 
 fold. But admitting, for the sake of illustration, that the 
 rich man can enjoy real pleasure here, yet as life is uncer- 
 tain, surely he must live in constant jeopardy j becausre he 
 is in constant expectation of being robbed of all his riches 
 and happiness. Scarcely has the rich man heaped up his 
 gold together, when death escorts him to the bar of God, 
 to give an account of his stewardship. Then whose shall 
 the riches be, for which a s">ul was bartered and eternal 
 happiness relinquished . ? 
 
 Does not God, as a just punishment, send ri:h men 
 
 Strong delusions, that they may believe a lie, anJ as they 
 
 Will not U6e their abundant riches for his glory -and the 
 
 good of his pioor, are they not often so infatuated as to 
 
 starve themselves in the midst or abundance ? I know a 
 
 man of property who ^oes like a beggar and lives upon cai- 
 
 ccc. yet he has no family. Like the budding flower 
 
 ^ >ies concealed, and all its sweets lock - 
 
 j are such niggardly wretches, whose aims are all 
 
 turned inward, whose private interest is the centre of their 
 
 .^, and the - actions- Thus 
 
300 10TE$. 
 
 while some horde up their wealth in iron chests, and like 
 the dog in the manger will neither enjoy it themselves, nor 
 let those in need partake of it. Others with their riches, 
 are sacrificing their health and reputation, corrupting their 
 children, contaminating their neighbours, and shipwrecking 
 their own So«ls, in their jovial bowls. 
 
 Notwithstanding the conviction I feel that many of the 
 aforesaid characters will view my arguments with the paral- 
 yzing frown of neglect 5 yet I am encouraged with the con- 
 fidence that some benevolent persons will view them with 
 the eye of candour 5 and will both commiserate and miti- 
 gate the miseries of the poor, by organizing socities simi- 
 lar to the Abolition Society, and then shall the blessings 
 of the poor, and the approving smiles of heaven, repay 
 their humanity. 
 
 Some ministers of the gospel adopt a line of conduct di- 
 ametrically opposite to that of their Lord and Master. He 
 loved to visit and relieve the poor, but they love to neglect 
 the poor, and visit and fawn upon the rich. The pious 
 poor man is neglected through life, and forgotten whe 11 
 dead, by the Reverend and Right Reverend clergy; but no t 
 so with tjie rich ; in their sickness they are exhibited to 
 our view as noble sufYeiers, as patterns of patience ; and 
 when dead, they are attended with distinguished grandeur, 
 pomp and parade, to the grave : while the interested poet 
 and fawning parson extol them to the skies, and land their 
 souls in heaven. In short, parsons as well as poets, too 
 .often by their conduct verify the old adage, viz. « money 
 makes the mare go.*' 
 
CONSTITUTION 
 
 OF THE 
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF PENNSYLVANIA, 
 
 As ratified in Convention, the 2d day of 
 September, 1790. 
 
 WE, the People of the Commonwealth of Penn- 
 sylvania, ordain and establish this constitution for its 
 government. 
 
 ARTICLE I. The legislative power of this common* 
 wealth shall be vested in a general Assembly, which 
 shall consist of a senate and house of representatives. 
 
 II. The representatives shall be chosen annually by 
 the citizens of the city of Philadelphia, and of each 
 county respectively, on the second Tuesday of Octo- 
 ber. 
 
 III. No person shall be a representative who shall 
 not have attained the age of twenty-one years, and 
 have been a citizen and inhabitant of the state three* 
 years next preceding his election, and the last year 
 thereof an inhabitant of the city or county in which 
 he shall be chosen ; unless he shall have been absent 
 on the public business of the United States, or of this 
 state. No person residing within any city, town Or 
 borough, which shall be entitled to a separate repre- 
 sentation, shall be el#cted a member for any county ; 
 nor shall any person, residing without the limits of 
 any such city, town or borough, be elected a member 
 -therefor. 
 
 IV. Within three years after the first meeting of 
 the general Assembly, and within every subsequent 
 
302 THE CONSTITUTION 
 
 term of 7 years, an enumeration of the taxable inha- 
 bitants shall be made, in such manner as shall be di- 
 rected by law. The number of representatives shall, 
 at the several periods of making such enumeration, 
 be fixed by the legislature, and apportioned among 
 the city of Philadelphia, and the several counties, ac- 
 cording to the number of taxable inhabitants in 
 each ; and shall never be less than sixty, nor greater 
 than one hundred. Each county shall have, at least, 
 one representative ; but no county, hereafter erected, 
 shall be entitled to a separate representation, until a 
 sufficient number of taxable inhabitants shall be con- 
 tained within it, to entitle them to one representative, 
 agreeable to the ratio which shall then be established. 
 
 V. The senators shall be chosen for four years by 
 the citizens of Philadelphia, and of the several coun- 
 ties, at the same time, in the same manner, and at the 
 same places, where they shall vote for represent^ 
 tives. 
 
 VI. The number of senators shall, at the several 
 periods of making the enumeration before mention- 
 ed, be fixed by the legislature, and apportioned among 
 the districts formed as herein after directed, accord- 
 ing to the number of taxable inhabitants in each ; 
 and shall never be less than one-fourth, nor greater 
 than one-third, of the number of representatives. 
 
 VII. The senators shall be chosen in districts for- 
 med by the legislature : each district containing such 
 a number of taxable inhabitants as shall be entitled 
 to elect not more than four senators. When a dis- 
 trict shall be composed of two or more counties, they 
 shall be adjoining. Neither the city of Philadelphia, 
 nor any county, shall be divided in forming a district. 
 
 VIII. No person shall be a senator, who shall not 
 have attained the age of tvventy-five years, and have 
 been a citizen and inhabitant of the state four years 
 next before"his election, and the last year thereof an 
 inhabitant of the district for which he shall be cho« 
 sen ; unless he shall have been absent on public busi- 
 ness of the United States, or of this state. 
 
PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 IX . Immediately after the senators shall be assern 
 bled, in consequence of the first election, subsequent 
 to the first enumeration, they shall be divided by lot, 
 as equally as may be, into four classes. The seats of. 
 the senators of the first class, shall be vacated at the 
 expiration of the first year ; of the second class, at 
 the expiration of the second year; of the third class, 
 at the expiration of the third year ; and of the fourth 
 class* at the expiration of the fourth year; so that 
 one- fourth may be chosen every year. 
 
 X. The general Assembly shall meet on the first 
 Tuesday of December in every year, unless sooner 
 convened by the governor. 
 
 XI. Each house shall chuse its speaker and other 
 officers ; and the senate shall also chuse a speaker, 
 pro tempore^ when the speaker shall exercise the office 
 of governor. 
 
 XII. Each house shall judge of the qualification* 
 of its members. Contested elections shall be deter- 
 mined by a committee to be selected, formed, and re- 
 gulated in such manner as shall be directed by law. 
 A majority cf each house shall constitute a quorum 
 to do business ; but a smaller number may adjourn 
 from day to day, and may be authorised, by law, to 
 compel the attendance of absent members, in such 
 manner, and under penalties, as may be provided. 
 
 XIII. Each house may determine the rules of its 
 proceedings; punish its members for disorderly be- 
 haviour ; and, with the concurrence of two-thirds, 
 expel a member ; but net a second time for the same 
 cause ; and shall have all other powers necessary for 
 a branch of the legislature of a free state. 
 
 XIV. Each house shall keep a journal of its pro- 
 ceedings, and publish them weekly, except such parts 
 as may require secrecy. And the yeas and nays of the 
 members on any question, shall, at the desire of any 
 two of them, be entered on the journal. 
 
 XV. 1 he doors of each house, and of committees 
 of the whole, shall be open, unlesfcwhcn the business 
 
 kept a secret. 
 
304 THE CONSTITUTION 
 
 XVI. Neither house shall, without the consent of 
 the other, adjourn for more than three days, nor to 
 any other place than that in which the two houses 
 are sitting. 
 
 XVII. The senators and representatives shall re- 
 ceive a compensation for their services, to be a ,er- 
 tained by law, and paid out of the treasury of the 
 commonwealth. They shall, in all cases, except 
 treason, felony, and breach or surety of the peace, 
 be privileged from arrest, during their attendance at 
 the session of the respective houses, and in going to 
 and returning from the same. And for any speech or 
 debate in either house, they shall not be questioned 
 in any other place. 
 
 XVIII. No senator or representative shall, during 
 the time for which he shall be elected, be appointed 
 to any civil office under this commonwealth, which 
 shall have been created, or the emoluments of which 
 shall have been increased, during such time; and no 
 member of Congress, or other person holding any of- 
 fice, except of attorney at law, and in the militia un- 
 der the United States, or tkis Commonwealth, shall 
 be a member of either house, during his continuance 
 in Congress or office. 
 
 XIX. When vacancies happen in either house, the 
 speaker shall issue wrif s of election to fill such vacan- 
 cies. 
 
 XX. Ail bills for raising revenue shall originate in 
 the house of representatives ; but the senate may 
 propose amendments, as in other bills. 
 
 XXI- No money shall be drawn from the treasury 
 but in consequence of appropriations made by law. 
 
 XXII. Every bill which shall have parsed both 
 houses, shall be presented to the governor. If he 
 approve, he shall sign it ; but if he shall not approve, 
 he shall return it, with his objections, to the house in 
 which it shall have originated, who shall enter the 
 objections at large upon their journals, and proceed to 
 reconsider it* if. after such, reconsideration, two 
 
PEN&SYL VA XI A. 305 
 
 •ihirds <"»f that house shall agree to pass the bill, it 
 shall be sent, with the objections, to the other house, 
 by which, likewise it shall be reconsidered ; and if 
 approved by two thirds of that house, it shall be a law. 
 -. the votes of both houses shall be 
 eas and nays; and the names of the 
 persons voting tor or against the bill shall be entered 
 on the journals of each house respectively If any 
 bill shall not be returned by tlie governor within ten 
 days, Sundays excepted, after it shall have been pre - 
 seated to him, it shall be a law, in like manner as if 
 he had signed it, unless the general Assembly by their 
 adjournment, prevent its return ; in which case it 
 be a law, unless sent back within three days af- 
 ter their next meeting. 
 
 XXIII. Every order, resolution, or vote, to which 
 the concurrence of both houses are necessary, except 
 on a question of adjournment, shall be presented to 
 the governor ; and before it shall take effect, be ap- 
 proved by hiCA ; or, being disapproved, shall be re- 
 passed by two-thirds of both houses, according to the 
 rules and limitations prescribed by a bill. 
 
 ARTICLE II. 
 
 I. The supreme executive power of this common- 
 >n shall be vested in a governor. 
 
 II. The governor shall be chosen on the second 
 Tuesday of October by the citizens of the common- 
 wealth, at the places where they shall respec- 
 tively vote for representatives. The returns of 
 every election for governor shall be sealed up, and 
 transmitted to the seat of Government, directed 
 to thVspeaker of the senate, who shall open and pub- 
 lish them in the presence of the members of both hous- 
 es of the legislature. The person having the highest 
 number of votes shall be governor. But if two or 
 more shall be equal and highest in votes, one of them 
 shall be chosen governor, by the joint vote of the 
 
 i i2 
 
3G THE CONSTITUTION 
 
 members of both houses. Contested election* shall 
 be determined by a committee, to. be selected from, 
 both houses of the legislature, formed and regulated in 
 such manner as shall be directed by law. 
 
 III. The governor shall hold his office during three 
 years from the third Tuesday of December next ensu- 
 ing his election ; and shall not be capable of holding 
 it longer than nine in any term of twelve years. 
 
 IV. He shall be at least thirty.years of age, and 
 have been a citizen and inhabitant of this State seven 
 years next before his election; unless he shall have 
 been absent on the public business of the United States^ 
 or of this state. 
 
 V. No member of congress, or person holding any 
 office under the United States, or this state, shall ex- 
 ercise the office of governor. 
 
 VI. The governor shall, at stated times, receive 
 for his services.a compensation, which shall be nei- 
 ther increased nor diminished during the period for 
 which he shall have been elected. 
 
 VII. He shall be commander in chief of the army 
 and navy of this commonwealth, and of the militia; 
 except when they shall be called into the actual ser« 
 vice of the United States. 
 
 VIII. He shall appoint all officers whose offices are 
 established by this constitution, or shall be established 
 by law, and whose appointments are not herein other- 
 wise provided for ; but no person shall be appointed 
 to an office within any county, who shall not have 
 been a citizen and inhabitant therein one year next 
 before his appointment, if the county shall have been so 
 long erected; but if it shall not have been so long erec- 
 ted, then within the limits of the county or counties , 
 out of which it shall have been taken. NfcJjPttber *" 
 of Congress from this state, or any person holding 
 or exercising any office of trust or profit undejyjthe 
 United States, shall, atjhe same time, hold or exer- 
 cise the office of judge, secretary, tresSlnrer, prothono- 
 tary, register of wills, recorder o? deeds, shelyL^or 
 any office in this State, to wjijch ^S§lary is bylaw 
 
OF PENNSYLVANIA. 307 
 
 annexed, or any other offices which future legislatures 
 *hall declare incompatible with offices or appoint- 
 ments under the United States. 
 
 IX. He shall have power to rerrit fines ind forfeit- 
 ures, and grant reprieves and pardons, wcepi in 
 cases of impeachment. 
 
 X. He may require information, in writing, from 
 the officers in the executive departme~ r vnon sny 
 subject relating to the duties of their respective of- 
 fices. 
 
 XI. He shall, from time to time, give to t'ie Cene- 
 ral Assembly information of the state of the com- 
 monwealth, and recommend to their consideration 
 such measures as he shall judge expedient. 
 
 XII. He may, on extraordinary occasions, convene 
 the General ^ssemblv ; and, infeace of dis' greens it 
 between the two houses with respec: to the tin 
 adjournment, adjourn them to sucii ume as h€ . 
 think proper, not exceeding four months. 
 
 XIII. He shall take care that the laws be faith 
 executed. 
 
 XIV. In case of the death or resignation of the 
 governor, or of his removal from office, the sp~. 
 
 of the senate shall exercise :he ofrxe of governor, 
 another governor shall be duly qualified. And if the 
 trial of a contested election shall continue longer than 
 until the third Tuesday in December next ensuing the 
 election of a governor, the governor of the last year, 
 or the speaker of the senate, who mav be in the exer- 
 cise of the executive authority, shall continue therein 
 until the determination of such contested election, and 
 until a governor shall be qualified as aforesaid. 
 
 XV. A secretary shal; be appointed and commis- 
 d during the governor's C( mintiarce in office, if 
 
 he shall so long behave himself well. He shall keep 
 
 r register of all the official acts and proceedings 
 
 vernor, and shall, when required, lav the 
 
 apers, minutes and vouchers relative 
 
 ;h cf the legislature ; and 
 
308 TEE CONSTITUTION 
 
 *hall perform such other duties as shall be enjoined 
 him bv law. 
 
 ARTICLE III. 
 
 I. In elections by the citizens, every freeman of 
 the age of twenty-one years, having resided in the 
 state two years next before the election, and within 
 that time paid a state or county tax, which shall have 
 been assessed at least six months before the election, 
 shall enjoy the rights of an elector ; provided, that 
 the sons of persons qualified as aforesaid, between 
 the ages of twenty -one and twenty-two years, shall 
 be entitled to vote, although they shall not have paid 
 taxes. 
 
 II. All elections shall be by ballot, except those by 
 persons in their representative capacities, who shall 
 vote viva voce. 
 
 III. Electors shall, in all cases, except treason, fe- 
 lony, and breach or surety of the peace, be privileged 
 from arrest during heir attendance at elections, and 
 in going to and returning from them. 
 
 ARTICLE IV. 
 
 I. The house of representatives shall have the sole 
 power of impeaching. 
 
 II. All impeachments shall be tried by the senate. 
 When sitting for that purpose, the senators shall be 
 upon oath or affirmation JSIo person shall be convict- 
 ed without the concurrence of two-thirds of the 
 members present. 
 
 III. The governor, and all the civil officers, under 
 this commonwealth, shall be liable to impeachment 
 for any misdemeanor in office : but judgment, in such 
 cases, sh.aU noi extend farther than to removal from 
 office, and to disqualification to hold any office of ho- 
 nour, trust or proht, under this commonwealth. The 
 party, whetlvi. convicted or acquitted, shall neverthe- 
 less be liaole to indictment, trial, judgment and pun- 
 ishment according to law. 
 
OF PENNS1 X VAN Li. 309 
 
 ARTICLE V. 
 
 I. The judicial power of this commonwealth shall 
 be vested in a supreme court, in courts of oyer and 
 terminer and general jail deiiverv, in a c^urt of com- 
 mon pleas, orphans' court, registers' cnurs, and a 
 court of quarter sessions of the peace, for each coun- 
 ty, in justices of the peace, and such other courts as 
 the legislature may, frrm time to time, establish. 
 
 II. The judges of the supreme court, and of the 
 several courts of common pleas, shall hold their of. 
 fices during good behaviour ; but for any reasonable 
 cause, which shall be sufficient ground of impeach- 
 ment, the governor may remcve any of them, on the 
 address of two-thirds of each branch of the legisla- 
 ture. The judges of the supreme court, and the pre- 
 sidents of the several courts of common pleas, shall, 
 at stated times, receive for their services an adequate 
 compensation, to be fixed by law, which shall not be 
 diminished during their continuance in office ; but 
 they thall receive no fees or perquisites of office, nor 
 hold any other office of profit under this common- 
 wealth. 
 
 III. The jurisdiction of the supreme court shall 
 extend over the s'ate ; and the judges thereof shall, 
 by virtue of their nffice, be justices of o\er and ter- 
 miner and general jail Gelivery, in the several coun- 
 ties. 
 
 IV. Until it shall be otherwise directed by law, the 
 several courts of common pleas shall be established in 
 the following manner : The governor shah appoint in 
 each county, not fewer than three, nor mote than four 
 judges, who, during their continuance in office, shall 
 reside in £?uch county. The state shall Lj divided by- 
 law into circuits, none of which shall include more 
 than six, nor fewer than three counties. A president 
 shall be appointed of the counties in each circuit, who, 
 during his continuance in office, shall reside therein. 
 The president and judges, or any two of whom shall be 
 a quorum, shall compose the respective courts of com 
 man pleas. 
 
3 10 CONSTITUTION OF 
 
 V. The judges of the court of common pleas, in each 
 county, shall, by virtue of their offices, be justices of 
 oyer -sA terminer and general jail delivery, for the trial of 
 ca>/if:il aaci other offenders therein 5 any two of the said 
 judges, the president being one, shall be a quorum ; but 
 they shall not hold a court of oyer and terminer or jail de- 
 live-v in any county, when the judges of the supreme court 
 or any of th^m, shall be sitting in the same county. The 
 perls' accused, as well as the commonwealth, may, under 
 such regulations as shall be prescribed by law, remove the 
 iiidUtrrieot and proceedings, or a transcript thereof into the 
 Supreme -ourt. 
 
 V.. ?he supreme court and the several courts of com- 
 mon pleas shall, beside the powers heretofore usually ex- 
 ercisea by them, have the powers of a court of chancery, 
 so far as relates to the perpetuating testimony, the obtain- 
 ing of testimony from places not within this state, and the 
 care of the persons and estates of those who are non com- 
 pote s mantis ; and the legislature shall vest in the said 
 cou s such other powers, to grant relief in equity, as shall 
 be found necessary j and may, -from time to time, enlarge 
 o~ diminish those powers, or vest them m such other courts 
 as they shall judge proper, for the due administration of 
 justice. 
 
 VII. The judges of the court of common pleas of each 
 county, any two of whom shall be a quorum, shall com- 
 pose the court of quarter sessions of the peace and orphans' 
 court -hereof 5 and the register of wills, together with the 
 said iadges, or any two of them, shall compose the regis- 
 ter', >:■ urt of each county. 
 
 Viil, The judges of th? courts of common pleas shall, 
 within their respective counties, have the like powers with 
 the judges of the supreme court, to issue writs of certiora- 
 ri to the justices of the peace, and to cause their proceed- 
 ings to be brought before them, and the like right and jus- 
 tice to be ^one". 
 
 IX. Tne president of the court in each circuit, within 
 such circuit, and the judges of the court of common pleas, 
 Within th a respective counties, shall be justices of the 
 peace so far as relates to criminal matters. 
 
 X. The governor shall appoint a competent number of 
 
OF PENNSYLVANIA. 31 
 
 justices of the peace, in such convenient districts in each 
 county, as are or shall be directed by law j they shall be 
 commissioned during good behaviour, but may be removed 
 on conviction of misbehaviour in office, or of any infamous 
 crime, or in the address of both houses of the legislature. 
 
 XI. A register's office for the probate or wills and gran- 
 ting letters of administration, and an office :or ihe record- 
 ing of deeds, phail be kept in each county. 
 
 XII. The style of all processes shall be, The common- 
 wealth of Pennsylvania j all prosecutions shall be carried 
 on, in the name and by the authority of the commonwesith 
 of Pennsylvania, and conclude, " against the peace and 
 dignity of the same." 
 
 ARTICLE VI. 
 
 I. Sheriffs and coroners shall, at the time and places 
 of election of representatives, be chosen by the citi- 
 zens of each county: two persons shall be chosen for 
 each office, one of whom, for each respectively, 
 shall be appointed by the Governor. They shall hold 
 their offices for three years, if they shall so long be- 
 have themselves well, and until a successor be duly- 
 qualified ; but no person shall be twice chosen, or op- 
 pointed sheriff, in any term of six years- Vacancies 
 in either of the said offices, shall be filled by a riew 
 appointment to be made by the governor, to continue 
 until the next general election, and until a successor 
 shall be chosen and qualified as aforesaid. 
 
 II. The freemen of this commonwealth shall be 
 aimed and disciplined for its defence, Those who 
 conscientiously scruple to bear arms, shall not be 
 compelled to do so, but shall pay an equivalent for 
 personal service. The militia officers shall be ap- 
 pointed in such manner, and for such time as shall be 
 directed by law. 
 
 III. Prothonotaries, clerks of the peace, and or- 
 phan's courts, recorders of deeds, registers of wills, 
 a.nd sheriffs, shall keep their offices in the county town 
 
 ite county in which they respectively shall be of- 
 k k 2 
 
THE CONSTITUTION 
 
 ficers, unless when the governor shall, for special 
 reasons, dispense therewith for any term not exceed- 
 ing five years, after the county shall have been erected* 
 
 IV. All commissions shall be in the name, and by 
 the authority of the commonwealth of Pennsylvania* 
 and be sealed with the state seal, and signed by the 
 
 - governor. 
 
 V. The state treasurer shall be appointed annually 
 hy the joint vote of the members of both houses ; all 
 other officers in the treasury department, attornies at 
 law, election officers, officers relating to taxes, to the 
 poor and highways, constables, and other township 
 officers, shall be appointed in such manner, as is, or 
 shall be directed by law:. 
 
 ARTICLE VII. 
 
 I. The legislature shall, as soon as conveniently 
 may be, provide* by 4aw for the establishment of 
 schools throughout the state, in such manner, that the 
 poor may be taught gratis. 
 
 II. The arts and sciences shall be promoted in one 
 or more seminaries of learning. 
 
 III. The rights, privileges, immunities, and es- 
 tates of immunities, and corporate bodies, shall re- 
 main, as if the constitution of this state had not been 
 altered or amended. 
 
 ARTICLE VIII. 
 
 Members of the general Assembly, and all officers, 
 executive and judicial, shall be bound by oath or af- 
 firmation to support the constitution of this common- 
 wealth, and to perform the duties of their respective 
 offices with fidelity. 
 
 ARTICLE IX. 
 
 That the general, great, and essential princi- 
 ples of liberty may be recognized, and un- 
 alterably established, We declare, 
 
OF PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 I. That ail men are born equally free and inde- 
 ient, and have certain inherent and indefeasible 
 
 its, among which are those of enjoying and de- 
 fending life and liberty, of acquiring, possessing, and 
 protecting property and reputation, and of pursuing 
 :heirown happiness. 
 
 II. That all power is inherent in the people ; 
 and all free governments are founded on their author- 
 ed instituted for their peace, safety and happi- 
 ness. For the advancement of those ends, they have 
 at all times, an unalienable and indefeasible right to 
 alter, reform, or abolish their government, in such 
 manner as they may think proper. 
 
 III. That all men have a natural and indefeasible 
 right to worship Almighty God according to the dic- 
 tates of their own consciences ; that no man can of 
 right be compelled to attend, erect, or support any 
 
 » place of worship, or to maintain any ministry, against 
 his consent ; that no human authority can, in any 
 case whatever, control or interfere with the rights of 
 conscience, and that no preference shall ever be 
 given by law to any religious establishment, or mode 
 of worship. 
 
 IV. That no person, who acknwledges the being of 
 a God, and a future state of rewards and punish- 
 ments, shall on account of his religious sentiments; 
 be disqualified to hold any office or place of trust or 
 profit under this commonwealth. 
 
 V. That elections shall be free and equal. 
 
 VI. That trial by jury shall be as heretofore, and the 
 iight thereof remain inviolate. 
 
 VII. That the punting presses shall be free to every 
 person, who undertakes to examine the proceedings of the 
 legislature or any branch of government ; and no law shall 
 ever be made to restrain the right thereof. The free com- 
 munication of thoughts and opinions is one of the invalua- 
 ble privileges of man j and every citizen may freely speak, 
 write and print on any subject, being responsible for the a- 
 buse of that liberty. In prosecutions for the publication 
 of papers, investigating the official conduct of officers, or 
 
314 THE CONSTITUTION 
 
 men in an official capacity, or where the matter published 
 is proper for public information, the truth thereof may be 
 given in evidence. And, in ail indictments for libels the 
 jury shall have a right to determine the law and the facts, 
 under the direction of the court, as in other cases. 
 
 VIII. That the people shall be secure in their persons, 
 houses, papers and possessions, from unreasonable searches 
 and seizures ; and that no warrant to search any place, or 
 to seize any person or things, shall issue without describing 
 them as near as may be, nor without probable cause, sup- 
 ported by oath or affirmation. 
 
 IX. That, in all criminal prosecutions* the accused hath 
 a right to be heard by himself and his counsel ; to demand 
 the nature and cause of the accusation against him 5 to 
 meet the witnesses face to face 5 to have cumpulsory pro- 
 cess for obtaining witnesses in his favour; and, in prosecu- 
 tions by indictment or information, a speedy public trial, 
 by an impartial jury of the vicinage ; that he cannot be 
 compelled to give evidence against himself 5 nor can he be 
 deprived of his life, liberty or property, unless by the judg- 
 ment of his peers, or the law of the land. 
 
 X. That no person shall, for any indictable offence, be 
 proceeded against criminally by information, except in cases 
 arising in the land or naval forces, or in the militia, when 
 in actual service, in time of war or public danger, or, by 
 leave of the court, for oppression and misdemeanor in of- 
 fice. No person shall, for the same offence, be twice put 
 in jeopardy of life or limb ; nor shall any man's property 
 be taken or applied to public use without the consent of his 
 representatives, and without just compensation being made. 
 
 XI. That all courts shall be open ; and every man, for 
 any injury done him in his lands, goods, person or reputa- 
 tion, shall have remedy by the due course of law, and right 
 and justice administered without sale, denial or delay.— 
 Suits may be brought against the commonwealth in such 
 manner, in such courts, and in such cases, as the legisla- 
 ture may by law direct. 
 
 XII. That no power of suspending laws shall be exerci- 
 sed, unless by the legislature or its authority. 
 
 XIII. That excessive bail shall not be required, nor ex- 
 cessive fines imposed, nor cruel punishments inflicted. 
 
OF PE NNSTL VAN1A. > SI 5 
 
 XIV. That all prisoners shall be bailable by sufficient 
 sureties, unless for capital offences, when the proof is evi- 
 dent or presumption great ; and the privileges of the wri: 
 of habeas corpus shall not be suspended, unless when, in 
 cases of rebellion or invasion, the public safety may re- 
 quire it. 
 
 XV. That no commission of oyer and terminer or jail 
 delivery shall be issued. 
 
 XVI That the rersjn of a debtor, where there is not 
 strong presumption of fraud, shall not be continued in pri- 
 son after delivering up his estate for the benefit of his cre- 
 ditors, in such manner as shall be prescribed by law. 
 
 XVII. That no ex post facto law, nor any law impair- 
 ing contracts, shall be made. 
 
 XVIII. That no person shall be attainted of treason or 
 felony by the legislature. 
 
 XIX. That no attainder shall work corruption of blood, 
 nor, except during the life of the offender, forfeiture of es- 
 tate to the commonwealth ; that the estates of such per- 
 sons as shall destroy their own lives shall descend or vest 
 as in case of natural death 5 and if any person shall be 
 killed by casualty, there shall be no forfeiture by reason 
 thereof. 
 
 XX. That the citizens have a right, in a peaceable man- 
 ner, to assemble together for their common good, and to 
 apply to those invested with the powers of government for 
 redress of grievances, cr other proper purposes, by petitioi: 3 
 address or remonstrance. 
 
 XXI. That the right cf the citizens to bear arms, in 
 defence of themselves and the state, shall not be ques- 
 tioned. 
 
 XXII. That no standing army shall, in time of peace^ 
 be kept up without the consent of the legislature : and the 
 military shall, in all c at all times, be in 
 subordination to the civil power. 
 
 XXIII. That no sol fearje of peace, be 
 quartered in any house without the consent of the owner, 
 cor in time of war, but ir» a manner to be prescribed by 
 law. 
 
 XXIV. That tl ure shall not grant any t.: 
 nobilitv, or hereditary distinct r te anv office, the 
 
316 THE CONSTITUTION 
 
 appointment to which shall be for a longer term than during 
 good behaviour. 
 
 XXV. That emigration from the state shall not be pro- 
 hibited. 
 
 XXVI. To guard against ^transgressions of the high 
 powers whkh we have delegated, We declare, That every- 
 thing in this article is excepted out of the general poweis of 
 government, and shall for ever remain inviolate. 
 
 SCHEDULE. 
 
 That no inconvenience may arise, from the altera- 
 tions and amendments in the constitution of this 
 commonwealth, and in order to carry the same 
 into complete operation, it is hereby declared and 
 ordained, 
 
 I. That all laws of this commonwealth, in force at the. 
 time of making the said alterations and amendments in 
 the said constitution, and not inconsistent therewith, and 
 all rights, actions, prosecutions, claims and contracts, as 
 well of individuals as of bodies corporate, shall continue as 
 if the said alterations and amendments had not been made. 
 
 II. That the president and supreme executive shall con- 
 tinue to exercise the executive authority of this common- 
 wealth as heretofore, until the third Tuesday of December 
 next ; but no intermediate vacancies in the council shall be 
 supplied by new elections. 
 
 III. That all officers in the appointment of the executive 
 department shall continue in the exercise of the duties of 
 their respective offices until the first day of September, o-ae 
 thousand seven hundred and ninety -one, unless their com- 
 missions shall sooner expire by their own limitations, or the 
 said offices become vacant by death or resignation, and no 
 longer, unles^ re-appointed and commissioned by the gov- 
 ernor 5 except that the judges of the supreme court shall 
 hold their offices for the terms in their commissions respec- 
 tively expressed. 
 
 IV. That Justice shall be administered in the several. 
 counties of th^rs state, until the period a foresaid, ' 
 same justices* in the same courts, and m the sawne, rrjan- 
 i^er as hereto for?. 
 
mSYLVANU. 317 
 
 V. Thit no person, now in commission as sheriff", shall 
 be eligible at the next election, for a longer term than will, 
 with the time which he shall have served in the said office, 
 complete the term of three years. 
 
 VI. That, until the first enumeration shall be made, as 
 directed in^he fourth section of the first article of the con- 
 stitution, established by this convention, the city of Phi- 
 ladelphia and the several counties shall be respectively en- 
 titled to elect the same number of representatives as is 
 now prescribed by law. 
 
 VII. That the first senate shall consist of eighteen 
 members, to be chosen in districts, formed as follows, Co 
 wit; The city of Philadelphia and the counties of Phila- 
 delphia and Delaware shall be a district, and shall elect 
 three senators : the county of Chester shall be a district, 
 and shall elect one senator: the county of Bucks shall be 
 a district, and shall elect one senator : the county of Mont- 
 gomery shall be a district, and shall elect one senator : the 
 
 I shall be a district, and shall elect 
 one senator : the counties of Lancaster and York shall be 
 a district, and shall elect three senators : the counties of 
 Berks and Dauphin shall be a district, and shall elect two 
 senators : tne counties of Cumberland and Mifflin shall be 
 a district, and shall elect one senator : the counties of 
 Northumberland, Luzerne and Huntingdon shall be a dis- 
 trict, and shall elect one senator : the counties of Bedford 
 and Franklin shall be a district, and shall elect one senator .• 
 the counties of Westmoreland and Alleghany shall be a 
 district, and shall el^ct one senator ; and the counties of 
 Washington and Fayette shall be a district, and shall elect 
 rs j which senators shall serve until the first 
 enumeration before mentioned shall be made, and the re- 
 in both bouses of the legislature shall be esta- 
 blished by I in the constitution is direct- 
 ed. Any vacanci .11 happen in the senate, with- 
 in the prescribed in the ninth 
 section cf the first art; 
 
 VIII. T: .rs shall be conduc 
 
 thereof in.ide to the .en ate, in the . 
 manner as ion laws of the state for 
 
 * - I represent 
 
318 THE CONSTITUTION 
 
 tatives. In those; districts which consist of more than one 
 county, the judges of the district elections within each 
 county, after having formed a return of the whole election 
 within that county, in such manner as is directed by law* 
 shall send the same, by one or more of their number, tc 
 the place herein after mentioned within the district of which 
 such county is a part, where the judges so met shall com- 
 pare and cast up the several county returns, and execute, 
 under their hands and seals, one general and true return for 
 the whole district j that is to say, the judges of the districr 
 composed of the city of Philadelphia, and the counties of 
 Philadelphia and Delaware, shall meet in the state-house in 
 the city of Philadelphia j the judges of the district compo- 
 sed of the counties of Lancaster and York, shall meet at 
 the court-house in the county of Lancaster 3 the judges of 
 the district composed of the counties of Berks and Dau- 
 phin, shall meet at Middletown in the county of Berks 5 
 the judges of the district composed of the counties of Cum- 
 berland and Mifflin, shall meet in Greenwood township, 
 county of Cumberland, at the house nov. occupied by Da- 
 vid Miller 3 the judges of the district composed of the 
 counties of Northumberland, Luzerne and Huntingdon, 
 shall meet in the town of Sunbury ; the judges of the dis- 
 trict composed of the counties of Bedford and Franklin, 
 shall meet at the house now occupied by John Dickey, in 
 Aar township, Bedford county ; the judges oK the district 
 composed of the counties of Westmoreland and Allegany, 
 shall meet in Westmoreland county, at the court-house ia 
 the town of Greensborough ; and the judges of the district 
 composed of the counties of Washingion and Fayette 
 meet at the court-house in the town of Washington, ia 
 Washington county, on the third Tuesday in October re- 
 spectively for the purposes aforesaid. 
 
 IX. That the election of the governor shall be cor: 
 ed, in the several counties, in the manner prescribed by the 
 laws of the -state for the election of representatives ; and 
 the returns in each county shall be sealed by the judge? of 
 the elections, and transmitted to the president of the su- 
 preme executive council, directed to the speaker of the sen- 
 it*, as soon after the election « may 
 
OF PENNS1 X VA N1A . MB 
 
 in Convention, the second day of September, in 
 the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred 
 and ninety, and 01 the Independence of the United 
 States of America, the 6fteenth. In testimony 
 whereof we have hereunto subscribed our names. 
 
 THOMAS MIFFLIN, President, 
 James Wilson, &c. &c. 
 Joseph Redman, Secretary. 
 Jacob Shallus, Assistant Sec rs. 
 
 —0:0:0:0:00:0:0:0:0— 
 
 Among other useful laws of this state, of a public na- 
 ture, are, one declares all rivers and creeks to be highways 5 
 a law for the emancipation of negroes 5 a bankrupt law, 
 nearly on the model of the bankrupt laws of England : and 
 in the year 1794, the legislature of Pennsylvania, with a 
 view tr soften the rigour of penal law, passed an act, de- 
 claring that no crime, except murder of the first degree, 
 shall be punished with death. Murder of the first degree 
 is defined to be, a killing by means of poison, by lying in 
 wait, or with other kind of wilful, deliberate, premeditated 
 intention, or which shall be committed in the preparation or 
 attempt to perpetrate any arson, raoe, robbery, or burglary. 
 
 All other kinds of killing shall be deemed murder in the 
 second degree. The kind of murder to be ascertained by a 
 jury. 
 
 Persons liable to be prosecuted for petit treason shall be 
 proceeded against and punishei as in other cases of murder. 
 
 High treason is punished with confinement in prison and 
 the penitentiary house, not less than six, nor more than 
 twelve years. 
 
 Rape not less than ten, nor more than twenty-one years. 
 
 Murder of the second degree not less than five, nor more 
 than eigteen years. 
 
 Forgery not less than four, nor more than fifteen years, 
 with payment of a fine not to exceed one thousand do 
 
320 BE MARKS, &c, 
 
 Manslaughter not less than two, nor more than ten years, 
 and giving security for good behaviour during life. 
 
 Maiming not less than two, nor more than ten years, 
 with a fine not exceeding one thousand dollars. 
 
 Persons being charged with involuntary manslaughter, 
 the attorney-general, with leave of the court, may wave 
 the felony and proceed against them as for a misdemeanor, 
 and give in evidence any act of manslaughter 5 or the at- 
 torney may charge both offences in the same indictment, 
 and the jury may acquit the person of one or both. 
 
 The benefit of the clergy is for ever abolished. 
 
BRIEF ACCOUNT 
 
 OF THE 
 
 BETTER1NG-HOUSE 
 
 IN PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 Extracted from Brissot's Travels in the United States. 
 
 <c THIS h spital is constructed of bricks, and composed 
 of two large buildings ; one for men, and the other for wo- 
 men. There is a separation in the court, which is' common 
 to them. This institution has several objects : they re- 
 - into it the poor, the sick, orphans, women in travail, 
 and persons attacked by diseases produced by unchastity.— 
 They likewise confine here vagabonds, disorderly persons, 
 and girls of scandalous lives. 
 
 In this hospital there are particular halls appropriated 
 to each class of poor, and to each species of sickness j and 
 each hall has its superintendant. This institution was rich 
 and well administered before the revolutionary war. The 
 greater part of the administrators were Quakers. The 
 wa*r, with its destructive concomitants, intrcduced a differ- 
 ent order of things. The legislature resolved not to admit 
 to its administration any persons but such as had taken the 
 oath of fidelity to the state. The Quakers were by thij 
 excluded, and the management of it fell into hands not 
 so pure. The spirit of depredation was manifest in it. — 
 Upon the report of the inspectors of the hospitals, the le- 
 
 : ire, considering the abuses practised in that admini- 
 
 tion, confided that of the Bcttering-House again to the 
 
 Quakers. Without any resentment of the affronts they 
 
 cccived during the war, and only anxious to d« 
 and perform their duty, the Friends accepted the adn 
 
322 | A BRIEF ACCOUNT OF 
 
 tration, and exercise it as before with zeal and fidelity.— « 
 This change has produced the effect which wa^s expected.— 
 Order is visibly re-established $ many administrators are 
 appointed, one of whom, by turns, is to visit the hospital 
 every day : six physicians are attached to \t x who perform 
 the service gratis. 
 
 " Every sick and every poor person has his bed well fur- 
 nished, but without curtains, as it should be. Every room 
 is lighted by windows placed opposite, which introduce 
 plenty of light, that great consolation to a man confined, of 
 which tyrants for this reason are cruelly sparing. These 
 windows admit a free circulation of air j as they are not 
 very high, and are without gratesj it would be very easy for 
 the prisoners to make their escape, but the idea never en- 
 ters their heads. This fa'et proves that the prisoners are 
 happy, and, consequently, that the administration is good. 
 
 ee I could scarcely describe to you the different sensations 
 which by turns rejoiced and afflicted my heart in going 
 through their different apartments. An hospital, how well 
 soever administered, is always a painful spectacle to me. It 
 appears to me so consoling for a sick man to be at his own 
 home, attended by his wife and children, and visited by his 
 neighbours, that I regard hospitals as vast sepulchres, 
 where are brought together a crowd of individuals, stran- 
 gers to each others, and separated from all they hold dear. 
 And what is man in this situation ? A leaf detached from 
 the tree, and driven down by the torrent — a skeleton no 
 longer of any consistence, and bordering on dissolution. 
 
 iC But this idea soon gives place to another. Since so- 
 cieties are condemned to be infested with great cities, a 
 house like this becomes the asylum of beneficence 5 for, 
 without the aid of such institutions, what would become of 
 the greater part of those wretches who here find a refuge 5 
 so many women 5 so many persons blind and deaf, render- j 
 ed disgusting by their numerous infirmities ['—They must 
 very soon perish, abandoned by all the world, to whom they 
 are strangers* No door but that of their common mother 
 earth would receive these hideous figures, were it not for 
 this provision made by their common friend, society. 
 
 fc I saw in this hospital all that misery and disease can ^ 
 assemble. J saw women suffering en the bed of pain :— j 
 
THE BETTERING. HOUSE. 
 
 whose meagre visages, rendered disgusting by erup- 
 tion;, attest the fatal effects of incontinence ; others, who 
 •waited with groans the moment when heaven would deliver 
 th^m from a burden of life, b^rause afflicted with excru- 
 others, lidding in their arms the fruit, not 
 rria^e, but of love betrayed. Poor innocents ! 
 born under the star of wretchedness ! Why should men be 
 tmated to misfortunes ? But, bless Goi, at 
 Hiat you are in a country where bastardy is no obsta- 
 :tabilitj ad the rights of citizenship. I saw 
 with pleasure these unhappy mothers caressing their in* 
 and nursing them with tenderness. There were few 
 children in the hali of the little orphans ; these were in 
 good health, and appeared gay and happy. Mr. Shoema- 
 ker, who conducted me thither, and another of the direc- 
 c!lstri6uted some cakes among them^ which they had 
 brought in their pockets. Thus the directors think of 
 their charge ev*en at a distance, and occupy themselves with 
 their happiness. Good God ! there is then a country 
 joul of the governor of an hospital is not a soul 
 of briss ! 
 
 " Blacks are here mingled withAvhices, and lodged in the 
 same apartments. This, to me, was a»n edifying sight j— 
 it seemed a balm to rny s^ul. A saw a negro woman spin- 
 ning with activity by the side of her bed. Her eyes seem- 
 ed to expect from the director a word of consolation — She 
 f/otained it ; and it seemed to be heaven to her to hear him. 
 I should have been more happy had it been for me to have 
 spoken this word : I should have added many more. Un- 
 y negroes ! how much reparation Jo we owe them for 
 the evils we have occasioned them! — an 1 they love us ! 
 
 " The happiness of this negress was not equal to that 
 \*hich I saw sparkle on the visage of a young blind girl, 
 who seemed to leap for joy at the sound of th - director's 
 voice. He asked after her health ; she answered him with 
 transport. She was taking her tea by the side of her little 
 t^ble— Her tea ! — My friend, you are astonished at this 
 luxury in an hospital — It is because there is humaniry in 
 .. Jministration, and the wretches are not crowded in 
 , in haps to be stifled. They give tea to those whose 
 jet is satisfactory j and those who by their work are 
 
 1 1 2 
 
* 324 A BRIEF ACCOUNT, &c. 
 
 i 
 
 able to make some savings, enjoy the fruits of their indus- 
 try. I remarked in this hospital, that the women were 
 much more numerous than the men \ and among the lat- 
 ter, I saw none of those hideous figures so common in the 
 hospitals of Paris, figures on which you trace the mark of 
 crimes, misery and indolence. They have a deceit ap- 
 pearance : many of them asked the director for their en- 
 largement, which they obtained. 
 
 u But what resources have they en leaving this house? 
 They have their hands, answered the director, and they 
 may find useful occupations. But the women, replied I, 
 what can they do ? Their condition is not so fortunate, 
 Said he. In a town where so many men are occupied in 
 foreign commerce, the number of unhappy and disorderly 
 females will be augmented. To prevent this inconveni- 
 ence, it has been lately proposed to form a new establish- 
 ment, which shall give to girls of this description a useful 
 occupation, where the produce of the industry of each per- 
 son shall be preserved and given to her on leaving the 
 house $ or if she should choose to remain, she shall al- 
 ways enjoy the fruit of her own labour. 
 
 " This projept will, without doubt, be executed ; for the 
 Quakers are ingenious and persevering when they have m 
 view the succour of the unhappy." 
 
 TUB END., 
 
 HK227-78 
 

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