"While the old populations of this continent, in their confined territories, increase with measured slowness, the republic of the United States may, before a century, number a hundred millions of men."
Some will say that the independence of the United States was a necessity, and that it would have been accomplished without any assistance from France. In the course of time, very likely. But if France had not come forward when she did, with men and money, we can readily believe that the new state would have fallen again, for some time to come, under the yoke of the mother country. As a consequence, the development of this people, which has been owing largely to the principles of the American constitution, would have been greatly retarded, and the United States would not be to-day at that point where we now behold her.
Be this as it may, it is curious to see the old French monarchy lending its aid to the birth of a society most opposed to its principles and traditions. This arises from the fact that all unite to aid a cause when its hour has come. However, Bourbon royalty, carried away by the national sentiment, performed then a wise and generous act of the highest importance, the remembrance of which will never be effaced on either side of the Atlantic.
THE EMIGRANT.
CHAPTER I.
"Willy, Willy darlin'! Rise, agra, rise; day is breakin', and ye've many a long mile afore ye this mornin'—and for many a mornin' after it."
As she spoke the last words the woman's voice trembled, and she hid her face in the bed-clothes to stifle the grief that was welling up in great sobbing waves from her breaking heart. As the sound of her voice broke in upon his slumbers, a man rose from the bed where he had thrown himself, half-dressed, a couple of hours before, and, not yet quite awakened to consciousness, he looked around the room in a bewildered way.
Then he sat down on the side of the bed, and covered his eyes with his hand, vainly endeavoring to hide the tears that half-blinded him.
A chair stood near the bedside, and the wife drew it toward her and sat down, laying her head upon his knee. Very softly and tenderly he stroked the dark hair two or three times, then, while a great sob convulsed his frame, he bent his own head till his lips touched her forehead. "Willy, Willy, don't you give way," she said passionately, looking up at him with sorrowful eyes; "keep a brave heart, asthore; it's often ye'll need it where ye're goin'."