“Oh, yes, my brother! he who has suffered so much, and without complaining, drunk to the dregs the bitter cup of woe—­he, the minister of the Lord, who has been his Master’s image upon earth—­he was fitted for the last instrument of this redemption!”

“Yes, for I feel, my sister, that, at this hour, the last of my race, touching victim of slow persecution, is on the point of resigning his angelic soul to God.  Thus, even to the end, have I been fatal to my doomed family.  Lord, if Thy mercy is great, Thy anger is great likewise!”

“Courage and hope, my brother!  Think how after the expiration cometh pardon, and pardon is followed by a blessing.  The Lord punished, in you and your posterity, the artisan rendered wicked by misfortune and injustice.  He said to you:  ’Go on! without truce or rest—­and your labor shall be vain—­and every evening, throwing yourself on the hard ground, you shall be no nearer to the end of your eternal course!’—­And so, for centuries, men without pity have said to the artisan:  ’Work! work! work! without truce or rest—­and your labor shall be fruitful for all others, but fruitless for yourself—­and every evening, throwing yourself on the hard ground, you shall be no nearer to happiness and repose; and your wages shall only suffice to keep you alive in pain, privation, and poverty!’”

“Alas! alas! will it be always thus?”

“No, no, my brother! and instead of weeping over your lost race, rejoice for them—­since their death was needed for your redemption, and in redeeming you, heaven will redeem the artisan, cursed and feared by those—­who have laid on him the iron yoke.  Yes, my brother! the time draweth nigh—­heaven’s mercy will not stop with us alone.  Yes, I tell you; in us will be rescued both the woman and the slave of these modern ages.  The trial has been hard, brother; it has lasted throughout eighteen centuries; but it will last no longer.  Look, my brother! see that rosy light, there in the east, gradually spreading over the firmament!  Thus will rise the sun of the new emancipation—­peaceful, holy, great, salutary, fruitful, filling the world with light and vivifying heat, like the day-star that will soon appear in heaven!”

“Yes, yes, my sister!  I feel it.  Your words are prophetic.  We shall close our heavy eyes just as we see the aurora of the day of deliverance—­a fair, a splendid day, like that which is about to dawn.  Henceforth I will only shed tears of pride and glory for those of my race, who have died the martyrs of humanity, sacrificed by humanity’s eternal enemies—­for the true ancestors of the sacrilegious wretches, who blaspheme the name of Jesus by giving it to their Company, were the false Scribes and Pharisees, whom the Saviour cursed!—­Yes! glory to the descendants of my family, who have been the last martyrs offered up by the accomplices of all slavery and all despotism, the pitiless enemies of those who wish to think, and