the Directors at home, and visited neighbouring potentates on diplomatic missions which made up in danger what they lacked in dignity.  In the absence of properly qualified clergymen, with whom he would have been the last to put himself in competition, he preached sermons and performed marriages;—­a function which must have given honest satisfaction to one who had been so close a witness of the enforced and systematised immorality of a slave-nursery.  Before long, something fairly resembling order was established, and the settlement began to enjoy a reasonable measure of prosperity.  The town was built, the fields were planted, and the schools filled.  The Governor made a point of allotting the lightest work to the negroes who could read and write; and such was the stimulating effect of this system upon education that he confidently looked forward “to the time when there would be few in the colony unable to read the Bible.”  A printing-press was in constant operation, and in the use of a copying-machine the little community was three-quarters of a century ahead of the London public offices.

But a severe ordeal was in store for the nascent civilisation of Sierra Leone.  On a Sunday morning in September 1794, eight French sail appeared off the coast.  The town was about as defensible as Brighton; and it is not difficult to imagine the feelings which the sansculottes inspired among Evangelical colonists whose last advices from Europe dated from the very height of the Reign of Terror.  There was a party in favour of escaping into the forest with as much property as could be removed at so short a notice; but the Governor insisted that there would be no chance of saving the Company’s buildings unless the Company’s servants could make up their minds to remain at their posts, and face it out.  The squadron moored within musket-shot of the quay, and swept the streets for two hours with grape and bullets; a most gratuitous piece of cruelty that killed a negress and a child, and gave one unlucky English gentleman a fright which ultimately brought him to his grave.  The invaders then proceeded to land, and Mr. Macaulay had an opportunity of learning something about the condition of the French marine during the heroic period of the Republic.

A personal enemy of his own, the captain of a Yankee slaver, brought a party of sailors straight to the Governor’s house.  What followed had best be told in Mr. Macaulay’s own words.  “Newell, who was attended by half-a-dozen sans-culottes, almost foaming with rage, presented a pistol to me, and with many oaths demanded instant satisfaction for the slaves who had run away from him to my protection.  I made very little reply, but told him he must now take such satisfaction as he judged equivalent to his claims, as I was no longer master of my actions.  He became so very outrageous that, after bearing with him a little while, I thought it most prudent to repair myself to the French officer, and request his safe-conduct