"No, you will not save Monsieur Papalier," said Genifrede.
"L"Ouverture is a prophet, as all men are in proportion as they are Christians," said Therese. "If he says I shall save my enemy, I believe I shall."
"You will, at least, try. If you are going, go;--the sun is setting,"
said Toussaint. "What escort have you?"
"Old Dessalines and another, I want no more."
"Old Dessalines!" said Toussaint, smiling; "then he must have wine. I must see him."
"He is here," said Therese, calling him.
The old man was, indeed, lingering near, preferring the chance of a word from L"Ouverture even to supper and wine within. He was ready enough to tell his story:--that he lived as butler at General Dessalines"; and, that though master and servant had changed places, he liked the new times better than the old. He was treated with more respect now, by everybody, than when he was a negro tradesman, even though he then had a slave of his own. The place of butler suited him too. General Dessalines and his lady drank only water; and they left him to manage the wine-cellar just as he liked; except at the present time, when a dreadful quant.i.ty of wine was wanted for the convalescents. It frightened him to think how soon the cellar might be emptied, if they went on at this rate. Old Dessalines was glad he had come to Pongaudin to-day. He had not only seen L"Ouverture, but had heard from L"Ouverture"s own lips that General Dessalines" cellars should never be quite empty while there was wine at Pongaudin.
When Toussaint resumed his seat under the tree, where the Pascals, Euphrosyne, Placide, and Denis remained (the rest having gone into the house with Therese), he found Denis discussing with Monsieur Pascal the principle and policy of nursing the sick who were hereafter to be mown down on the battlefield. Denis had been reminded that this was a time of peace, and that he was not authorised to antic.i.p.ate more battlefields: and his reply had shown that he had no faith in this peace, but looked forward, like others of his colour, to August and its consequences. He was not contradicted here; and he went on to ask whether the Crusaders (his favourite warriors) nursed the wounded and sick heathens whom they found on their road, and in the cities they took.
"They were no Christians if they did not," said Euphrosyne.
"It was a savage age," observed Placide.
"Still they were the representatives of the Christianity of their day,"
said Afra; "and Christianity requires us to do good to those who use us ill."
"The Crusaders," said Toussaint, "lived in the early days of that Christianity which is to endure as long as the race of man. Like others, they did their part in acting out one of its principles. That one was not love of enemies,--which yet remains for us."
"I agree with you," said Pascal. "There are many ways of warring for the Cross. Theirs was one; ours is another."
"You always speak as if you were a black, Monsieur Pascal," said Denis.
"I would fain be a negro in heart and temper, Denis, if what your father thinks of the vocation of negroes be true."
"But about those ways of warring for the Cross!" inquired Afra.
"I mean, and L"Ouverture, I think, means," said Pascal, "that nothing can immediately alter the nature of men; that the glorious Gospel itself is made to change the face of the world gradually; all the more surely, because slowly and naturally. This seed of life was cast upon the flood of human pa.s.sions, and the harvest must not be looked for till after many days. Meantime it sprouts out, now here, now there, proving that it is alive and growing; but the harvest is not yet."
"We find one trace of the Gospel here, and another there," said Toussaint; "but a Christian nation, or race, or cla.s.s of people, who has seen?"
"Not in the earliest days?" asked Euphrosyne. "Were not the first confessors and martyrs a Christian cla.s.s?"
"They were so according to their intention, to their own idea," said Toussaint. "They were votaries of the one Christian principle most needed in their time. The n.o.ble men, the courageous women, who stood, calm and resolved, in the midst of the amphitheatre, with the heathen altar behind them, the hungry tiger before them, and a careless or scoffing mult.i.tude ranged all around--these were strong witnesses to the great principle of Faith--n.o.ble proofs of the power of living and dying for things unseen. This was their function. It was for others to show forth the humility and modesty in which, as a cla.s.s, they failed."
"The anchorites," said Pascal, "each in his cave, solitary, abstemious, showed forth in its strength the principle of Devotion, leaving Charity unthought of."
"And then the nun," said Toussaint--
"What possible grace of religion did the nun exhibit?" asked Euphrosyne.
"The original nun, Euphrosyne, was inspired with the reverence of Purity. In an age of licence, those who were devoted to spiritual things were the salt of the earth. But in their worship of purity they outraged human love."
"The friar," said Pascal, "was a perpetual emblem of Unworldliness. He forced upon the admiration of a self-seeking world the peace of poverty, the repose of soul which is troubled with no thought for the morrow.
But for other teachers, however, industry would have been despised--the great law of toil would have remained unrecognised."
"The Crusaders worked hard enough," said Denis. "Thousands and thousands of them died of their toils, besides the slain."
"They were the apostles of Zeal," said Monsieur Pascal. "For the honour of the Gospel they suffered and died. They overlooked all that it teaches of toleration and universal love;--of peace on earth and good-will to men."
"None of these Christians," said Afra, "appear to have had much concern for men. They seemed to have lived for G.o.d and the faith, without love or care for those for whose sake G.o.d gave the faith."
"Just so," said her husband. "That part of our religion had not yet come into action. The first step taken towards this action was one which united with it the former devotion to G.o.d. The organisation of the great Church of Christ united, in the intentions of those who formed it, care for the glory of G.o.d and the salvation of men. It was a great step."
"But still," said Euphrosyne, "there was not the Charity, the living for the good of men, soul and body, which was what Christ taught and practised."
"That, Euphrosyne, was a later fruit; but it is ripening now. We have more Sisters of Charity than contemplative nuns, at this time. There are hospitals in every Christian land for the sick and the aged. It is remembered now, too, that Christ had compa.s.sion on the blind, and the deaf, and the insane: and charity to these is now the Christianity of a mult.i.tude."
"And what is their defect?" asked Denis. "What essential do they overlook, as the anchorite and the crusader overlooked this same charity?"
"It may be liberality--regard to the Christian liberty of others;--it may be--"
"Let us not look too closely into their failures," said Toussaint. "Let us not judge our brethren. These are too near our own time for us to be just judges. We see their charity--the brightest light yet in the constellation of Christian principles; let us be thankful that our eyes have seen it. It is brightening too; so that day telleth to-day of its increase, and night is witness of it unto night. It is now not only the sick and infirm in body that are cared for; but I am told there has been a man in England who has taken such pity on those who are sick and deformed in soul as to have explored the most loathsome of European prisons in their behalf. There has been a Briton who pitied the guilty above all other sufferers, and devoted to them his time, his fortune, his all. He will have followers, till Christendom itself follows him; and he will thus have carried forward the Gospel one step. The charity which grieves more for the deformity of the soul than the evils of the body is so far higher a charity, that it may almost be called a new principle."
"What remains?" asked Euphrosyne.
"Do you see anything further to be done, father?" inquired Denis.
With a mournful smile, Toussaint replied that mankind had advanced but a little way yet. The world was very far from being Christianised.
"In practice," said Euphrosyne. "But, supposing us all to fulfil what has been exemplified from the earliest days till now, do you suppose that many principles remain to be acted upon?"
"No doubt. If I saw none, I should believe, from all experience, that revelations (or rather verifications of what Christ revealed) will succeed each other as long as men exist. But, from the beginning till now, individuals here and there have lived by the principles which cla.s.ses and nations have overlooked. By a solitary ray shining here and there, we may foretell something of the new lights about to rise upon the world. There will be more privileged cla.s.ses, Euphrosyne; and, Denis, these privileges are lying within our grasp."
"A new charity, father?"
"A new charity, my boy. To solace the sick and infirm is good. To tend the diseased soul is better. But there is a higher charity still."
"To do good to those who hate us," said Monsieur Pascal; "in doing good, to conquer not only our love of ease and our fear of pain, but our prejudices, our just resentments, our remembrance of injuries, our disgust at oppression, our contempt of pride--to forget or conquer all these through the love of men as men, is, indeed, a higher charity than any which cla.s.ses have yet ill.u.s.trated."
"The negroes are the race that will ill.u.s.trate it," said Toussaint, with calm confidence. "The Gospel is for the whole world. It sprang up among the Jews; the white Gentiles hold it now; and the negroes are destined to fulfil their share. They are to ill.u.s.trate its highest Charity. For tokens, mark their meek and kindly natures, the softness and the constancy of their affections, and (whenever tried) their placability. Thus prepared, liberty is about to be opened to them in a region of civilisation. When G.o.d has given them the strength of the free, it will exalt their meekness and their love into that highest charity of which we have spoken. I myself am old; and though I shall do what I can on this side the grave, I cannot see the great day, except in faith. But my children may witness at least its dawn."
"In those days, wars will cease," said Euphrosyne, recalling the thoughts she had revolved on the day of the death of Moyse: "there will be no bloodshed, no violence--no punishment of injuries to others, while your people forgive their own."
"So will it be, I trust," said Toussaint.
"Why not, then, begin now? Why not act upon your whole principle at once?"
"Because the nature of the negro has been maimed. He has been made selfish, cowardly, and indolent. He must be educated back into a fair condition; and this necessary education circ.u.mstances have imposed. We are compelled to the self-denial, toil, and danger of warfare, in order to obtain the liberty which is to carry us forward. I once hoped otherwise, Euphrosyne; but I now see the bracing process of defensive warfare to be inevitable, and, on the whole, good for my people. Their liberties, thus hardly won, will be prized, so as to shut out the future danger of war. If, however, one stroke is inflicted for other purposes than defence--if one life is taken for vengeance, we shall be set back, long and far, in our career. It shall not be, under my rule. Alas! for those who succeed me, if they permit it! It will not only make the first black empire a by-word throughout the world, but it will render the Christian civilisation of my people difficult and slow."
Toussaint spoke like a rider; and he was virtually still a sovereign, as he had been for years past. Nor were the tokens of sovereignty altogether wanting. At this moment, as was continually happening, despatches arrived, on affairs of great importance, on which he must think and act.