years ago, in a French vessel called the Pearl. She had lost her
reckoning, and was driven by stress of weather into the port of St. Ives,
in Cornwall. Louis and his four companions were brought to London upon a
writ of Habeas Corpus at the instance of Mr. George Stephen; and, after
some trifling opposition on the part of the master of the vessel, were
discharged by Lord Wynford. Two of his unfortunate fellow-sufferers died
of the measles at Hampstead; the other two returned to Sierra Leone; but
poor Louis, when offered the choice of going back to Africa, replied, "Me
no father, no mother now; me stay with you." And here he has ever since
remained; conducting himself in a way to gain the good will and respect of
all who know him. He is remarkably intelligent, understands our language
perfectly, and can read and write well. The last sentences of the
following narrative will seem almost too peculiar to be his own; but it is
not the first time that in conversation with Mr. George Stephen, he has
made similar remarks. On one occasion in particular, he was heard saying
to himself in the kitchen, while sitting by the fire apparently in deep
thought, "Me think,--me think----" A fellow-servant inquired what he
meant; and he added, "Me think what a good thing I came to England! Here,
I know what God is, and read my Bible; in my country they have no God, no
Bible."

How severe and just a reproof to the guilty wretches who visit his country
only with fire and sword! How deserved a censure upon the not less guilty
men, who dare to vindicate the state of slavery, on the lying pretext,
that its victims are of an inferior nature! And scarcely less deserving of
reprobation are those who have it in their power to prevent these crimes,
but who remain inactive from indifference, or are dissuaded from throwing
the shield of British power over the victim of oppression, by the
sophistry, and the clamour, and the avarice of the oppressor. It is the
reproach and the sin of England. May God avert from our country the ruin