In the pulpit, the spontaneous eloquence of his heart chained the attention of his hearers; and his discourses, though rather inclined to asceticism than controversial, went to the hearts, and convinced the understandings, of unbelievers of the divinity of the doctrine he preached.  No class of his fellow-creatures was excluded from the influence of his boundless zeal.  Protestants—­to whom he was very mild, on account of his knowledge of the ignorant prejudices in which they are bound by the malice of their teachers—­heard him, and became converts to the church of God.  Even the neglected negro race claimed and received a full measure of his zeal.  He established a school for the children of these neglected sons of Africa, and never lost an opportunity of visiting them at the death bed or in the hour of serious sickness.

It was on occasion of one of these visits that God rewarded his priest, even in this world, by the joyous disclosure which we here record, and which, next to his grace of vocation to the priesthood, of all the manifestations of God’s mercy to him, claimed his sincerest gratitude and thanksgiving.  After the end of the grand “birthday banquet,” which lasted for a day and two nights, Alia’s position at the palace became more disagreeable than ever.  The young girls frowned on her and shunned her society, and Madame Goldrich, after she had got over the fatigue of the party, read her a smart lesson on her “ill manners and Irish temper,” because she dared to absent herself, to the disappointment of the guests, from a table at which she was denied her proper and usual place.  “Alia, this conduct of yours must be reformed, and that quick, or your separation from this family, to which you do not belong, must soon take place.  I ain’t goin’ to let you take precedence of my children no longer.”

To this vulgar speech of the “princess, our hostess,” as she was flatteringly toasted by a John Bull guest who was there, Alia answered not a word, but, having retired to her room, fell on her knees and prayed long and fervently to the God of her fathers to assist her by his inspirations, and direct her to the best, in her present perplexity.  Having unburdened her bosom of a load of grief by a copious effusion of tears, and felt in her spirit that calm resignation which a sense of its own forlorn condition and a total reliance on God are calculated to inspire even in the unregenerate and imperfect soul, Alia now proceeded to the chamber of old Judy, whose expected illness had at last arrived, having been ill now for three days.  On perceiving her entrance into the room, the old negress appealed to her in most supplicating terms to fulfil her promise to send for “de priest, for now de hour am come.  O Ali’, angel, dear,” she cried, “do not let me die without the ’bon Dieu,’ or I lost foreber.  O, haste!  O, haste!”

Alia lost no time, but, taking pen and paper, wrote as follows to the bishop of the diocese:—­