“Some of the crew were swearing from morning till night, some singing abominable songs, some kissing the crucifix and making vows to the saints.  The ship in the meanwhile helmless, but with sails set, driving on like the phantom vessel, is assailed by a storm, and the canvass bursts with loud reports, the masts strain and crack, she carrying on her course down the abyss of billows, and being cast forth like a log on the heights of the waters.  The storm dies away, when the crew are startled with a sound which proves to be a hail from another vessel.  They ask for hands, and are answered with a demand for like assistance.  The one crew is too few to spare them, and the other is too blind to go.  ’At the commencement of this horrible coincidence,’ continues the boy, ’there was a silence among us for some moments, like that of death.  It was broken by a fit of laughter in which I joined myself; and before our awful merriment was over, we could hear, by the sound of the curses which the Spaniard shouted against us, that the St. Leo had drifted away.’

“The captain, crew, and some of the slaves gradually recover; some partially, with the loss of an eye, others entirely.  The conclusion of the journal must be told in the boy’s own words:—­

“’This morning the captain called all hands on deck, negroes and all.  The shores of Guadaloupe were in sight.  I thought he was going to return God thanks publicly for our miraculous escape.  “Are you quite certain,” said the mate, “that the cargo is insured?” “I am,” replied the captain:  “every slave that is lost must be made good by the underwriters.  Besides, would you have me turn my ship into a hospital for the support of blind negroes?  They have cost us enough already; do your duty.”  The mate picked out the thirty-nine negroes who were completely blind, and, with the assistance of the rest of the crew, tied a piece of ballast to the legs of each.  The miserable wretches were then thrown into the sea!’”

Tears glistened in the eyes of the children during the perusal of this melancholy account, and Emma, covering her face with her hands, wept aloud.

“Poor, poor people!” exclaimed George; “oh! how glad I am that the English have no slaves; those wicked captains and sailors deserve to be hanged for treating them so cruelly.”

GRANDY. “‘Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.’  These wicked men will one day be called to an awful account for the cruelties exercised on their hapless brethren; and not they alone, but also the purchasers of these wretched slaves, who, when possessed of them, still caused them to groan in bondage and misery; without once considering that negroes also are the work of God’s hands, and are made immortal equally with themselves, notwithstanding their different complexion; for ‘God is no respecter of persons,’ and He takes as much interest in the soul of a poor negro as in that of the greatest white potentate on the earth.”