The Ladies' Garland

THE BROKEN HEART.

The Island of St. Domingo had long been held in peaceable possession by the French, and it was not until Louis XVI mounted the throne that its quietude was disturbed. The blacks had become very numerous and impudent, and it was not even supposed, until it actually happened, that an insurrection was about taking place. The negroes arose and were cruel in the extreme to the whites and the inhabitants of the island; massacred men, women, and children, in the most barbarous manner, having no regard for age, sex, or condition. It was a dreadful scene--the blood flowed through the gutters like water--and the groans of miserable victims, rang upon the air in mournful sounds. The inhabitants, as many as were spared, fled to the ships in the harbour for safety: being few, the captains were compelled to embark, leaving hundreds on the shore praying them for God's sake to take them on board, but it was in vain, and the wretches, giving up all hope, flung themselves into the river to rise no more.

Among the passengers who were so fortunate as to procure a passage on board one of the ships bound for Philadelphia, was one of the most wealthy and intelligent merchants of the Island. He had been fortunate enough, to save from the wreck of his fortune, some gold and many valuable jewels. His wife and daughter were also safe, and with him. Notwithstanding Monsieur Berenger was seemingly very fortunate, yet he had been so unused to wants of any kind that the denial of any gratification rendered him completely unhappy.

His wife was an amiable woman, and his daughter Louisa a charming accomplished girl, and her father's idol. They arrived in Philadelphia and took lodgings in Callowhill street. It was some time before they learned the English language, as they kept very retired, and all the neighbourhood were in wonder who they could be. The daughter never went out but in company with her father, and they seemed inseparably bound to each other.

The old man never smiled but on his child. and it was always observed he appeared happy only in her company. She was as delicate a creature as ever nature moulded, and her misfortunes were only supportable because her father yet existed, and she wished to live only on his account. They soon gained many friends in their neighborhood, among whom were Mr. Marville and his nephew Frederick.

They soon became warmly attached to the family, and Frederick was aware it was the love of Louisa. Happy would Mr. Berenger have been could he have seen his daughter comfortably situated in life. but to die and leave her so tender a plant to buffet the rude blast of adversity and poverty, was more than the old man could bear. He was seated one pleasant afternoon in his arbour, with his daughter and his friend beside him, his eyes bent intently on her, and a tear stealing down his cheek, when his daughter was suddenly called from him by her mother. As she went the old man raised his hands and eyes to heaven and exclaimed. "who shall protect my child when I am taken from her?"-His friend was moved by the manner of the old man, and seizing his hand, pressed it between his own, and exclaimed, "never shall she or you want while I live!"

The old man spoke not-his looks told what his tongue would utter--he kissed his friend's hand, laid his hand on his bosom, and breathed a last long sigh of farewell to mortality.

Medical aid was procured immediately, but it was of no avail, a vein was opened in the neck and the blood rushed from it so profusely that the physicians could not stop it, till nearly every drop of blood had left the body; a circumstance so singular could not be accounted for by the physicians, and on opening the body they found the old man's heart not only figuratively but actually broken in two parts. This circumstance had such an effect on the daughter that she died in a twelve month after her marriage with Frederick, and just as she had become the mother of a charming daughter.