 that breathing one herself?—all now left of my promised fortunes. The dictates of gratitude t hen prevailing, I would cry, but can I refuse the last request, however wild and erro∣neous, of her who preserved the being she now would involuntarily endanger? Finding reason ineffectual towards con∣quering the dying wish of Anana, I ac∣quitted myself to her, by leading to the bed of infection and death, my little trea∣sure, with a resignation I could only com∣pare to that of Abraham, and like the innocent he would have devoted, my child was returned to me. The exhausted Ana∣na, considering this with justice as the highest effort of gratitude and esteem, yielded herself patiently to the will of Heaven, which soon called her hence.

The sincere concern this loss occasi∣oned, gave way to one still nearer; my child sickened with the same horrible distemper, and centered in anxiety every faculty of my soul. It soon, however, took the most favourable turn, and left me at leisure to endeavour to secure the legacy our lost friend had put into my hands. The deceased Governor had con∣verted the principal part of the property he realized into diamonds; a common practice in countries where justice is par∣tially administered; nor did the new Go∣vernor know either their number or va∣lue: Anana having followed the directi∣ons of her benefactor in hiding a part, and bribing his successor to acquiescence by sharing the remainder. I had now gained worldly wisdom enough to adopt the same plan; and having fulfilled every duty, I joyfully embarked for England, accompanied by several slaves, who pre∣ferred attending on me to the precarious blessing of liberty under arbitrary power.
Ah, Madam, how different was this voyage from that already commemorated!

—from the fallen tree I then continually watered with my tears, a tender, a lovely scion had sprung up; it flourished in the shade; it blossomed in sunshine; with sweet, with gentle hopes, I bore it to its native soil. No barbarous hand was now lying in wait to destroy it; no pestilential wind blew from those cliffs which shot their white arms into the ocean, and hos∣pitably invited us to the bosom of peace. Ah, no! a dear, though small circle of sympathizing friends would receive the forlorn, the widowed wanderer, as one arisen from the dead; would grace my woeful tale with many a lamenting tear.
My sister too, my darling Ellinor— how perfect, how pure, cried my swelling heart, will be our re-union! how will she fondly fold to her generous bosom this dear child of the ocean—this soothing, unconscious fellow-sufferer—this early
