preservation entirely to her. He had retired one night to rest earlier than usual: Madame Emanuele heard some noise under the windows, the report of fire-arms, and, shortly after, cries of "Muerto al tiranno! Muerto al tiranno!". She immediately apprised Bolivar of his danger; and, to prevent his getting at his arms, which she knew if he once did he would rush into the midst of the assassins who were seeking him, she extinguished the light; and, throwing open the window, which looked upon the garden, she literally forced him to escape by the only exit that was left him. She had hardly closed the window when the assassins were at the door: they had already murdered the three sentinels, and Colonel Ferguson, the general's aid-de-camp, whom they shot dead on the steps of the portico. Madame Emanuele seated herself in the middle of the bed-chamber, with folded arms, awaiting the demolition of the door, which they were now proceeding with, in consequence of her refusal to admit them.

When the ruffians burst into the room, a dozen daggers were instantly gleaming over the bed where they imagined Bolivar was concealed. Madame Emanuele,-whose only object was to give time to the General to make good his retreat,without ever moving from her position, or evincing the least emotion, informed the assassins the General was still writing in his closet at the top of the

house, where he was in the habit of spending the greater part of his nights in reading and writing, when he had much to engage him. They immediately proceeded to the closet: from that room she conducted them to various other apartments; and finally, when she judged the fugitive had sufficient time to be beyond reach of pursuit, she returned to her apartment, with that bearing of female fearlessness which ferocity itself can never outrage. The disappointed conspirators, after destroying some of the papers of the General, were preparing to decamp, when the regiment of Major Whittle made its appearance at the palace, (Major Whittle having, by the greatest accident, heard of the insurrection on his return from a party,) and, after a desperate resistance, the insurgents were subdued, and the majority of those who were still in the palace were taken.

When the revolution commenced, Bolivar was one of the wealthiest proprietors of the country. When he was first pressed to place himself at the head of the insurgents, he refused to join them; but it was not long before he saw the necessity of yielding to renewed solicitation: and when he did draw the sword of revolt, he threw away the scabbard. His first act was to sacrifice property to the extent of forty thousand pounds. He possessed seven hundred slaves, and he gave them all their liberty. He formed a regiment of

the liberated negroes; and this regiment proved highly serviceable in the course of the revolutionary war. What was the conduct of Washington in similar circumstances? At the outbreak of the American revolution he possessed one hundred slaves,-did he devote their services to the cause of his country? did he liberate his slaves to give liberty the hearts of a hundred new defenders? Far from it,-Washington clung to his property, while he had life to enjoy the advantages of slavery it was only at his death his slaves obtained their freedom. The character of Bolivar has never yet been done justice to,-it remains for after-times to vindicate his memory, and to atone for the baseness of the country which twice drove him from its shores. It was on one of these occasions, at his return from his exile, that the same senate which clamoured for his blood received him with unheard-of honours. The senators made speeches, in which the exploits of Achilles, and the achievements of Alexander, were as straws in the balance against the wondrous deeds of Bolivar.

Bolivar listened in silence, I am informed by an eye-witness of the scene, to the eulogiums of the fulsome parasites, who followed the changes of the fickle multitude; and when a death-like stillness at length prevailed in the Assembly, and every ear was turned to catch the words of the

Liberator, (for it was an occasion on which it was expected he would enter into the subject of the revolution, and narrate the events which led to its fortuate termination,) Bolivar-at that time a pale, care-worn, grave-looking person, older in appearance than in reality, and dressed in the plainest attire-rose up and addressed the senate in these emphatic words :

"My countrymen, when I joined the revolution, I was young and rich-it has terminated, and I have gained my object, though it has left me old and poor." *

The speech was worthy of Bolivar, worthy of one of the three great men of the world; of one who was a better man than Buonaparte, and, in my estimation, as great a one as Washington.

In comparing him with the latter, it should never be forgotten, that Washington was at the head of an army of citizen-soldiers ill-disciplined and ill-provided for the field: it may be true; but, whatever was their discipline, English blood was in their veins, and they were the sons of men who had the energies of people British-born to support them in their struggle. Bolivar was at the head of a very different set of people he had to deal with men it was difficult to guide, and dangerous

* I have this account from a personal friend of Bolivar, -Mr. Boyer, a South American merchant.

to restrain-with soldiers without subordination, and patriots without principles, to be depended on by their leaders.

In 1819, when Bolivar was in exile in Jamaica, the same savage spirit which drove him from his country pursued him to this island. His assassination was determined on, but a wrong person was murdered by mistake. Tom Cringle's account of this affair is very different from that which I received from the gentleman with whom Bolivar dined on the day in question. The party had left the dinner-table, and Mr. Maxwell Hyslop was in conversation with Bolivar, when some one entered and said a man had been killed at the house where the General lodged. Bolivar on the spot said to Mr. Hyslop, "Somebody has been mistaken for me." They now proceeded to his house, and it was evident enough that such was the case. In his bed-room there was a man lying dead in the General's hammock; and that unfortunate person was the aid-de-camp of Bolivar, or commissary, who had arrived but that evening unexpectedly at Kingston, and, being fatigued, had lain down in the General's hammock. It fortunately happened for Bolivar that he was later than usual that evening in returning home; so that when the assassin entered the room and found a person in the hammock, he had no doubt of its being Bolivar, and his stiletto was instantly