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