To see it, as it has been shown, to arise in the first case, let us
suppose ourselves on the Continent just mentioned. Well then, We are
landed,--We are already upon our travels,--We have just passed through
one forest,--We are now come to a more open place, which indicates an
approach to habitation. And what object is that which first obtrudes
itself upon our sight? Who is that wretched woman whom we discover under
that noble tree, wringing her hands, and beating her breast, as if in
the agonies of despair? Three days has she been there, at intervals, to
look and to watch; and this is the fourth morning, and no tidings of her
children yet. Beneath its spreading boughs they were accustomed to play:
but, alas! the savage man-stealer interrupted their playful mirth, and
has taken them for ever from her sight.

But let us leave the cries of this unfortunate woman, and hasten into
another district. And what do we first see here? Who is he that just now
started across the narrow pathway, as if afraid of a human face? What is
that sudden rustling among the leaves? Why are those persons flying from
our approach, and hiding themselves in yon darkest thicket? Behold, as
we get into the plain, a deserted village! The rice-field has been just
trodden down around it; an aged man,--venerable by his silver
beard,--lies wounded and dying near the threshold of his hut. War,
suddenly instigated by avarice, has just visited the dwellings which we
see. The old have been butchered, because unfit for slavery, and the
young have been carried off, except such as have fallen in the conflict,
or have escaped among the woods behind us.

But let us hasten from this cruel scene, which gives rise to so many
melancholy reflections. Let us cross yon distant river, and enter into
some new domain. But are we relieved even here from afflicting
spectacles? Look at that immense crowd which appears to be gathered in a