gical effect upon the public mind.

The cause championed by Earl marched to a glorious triumph at the polls,
but he took no part in the jollification that followed.

"My work is only half done," was the reflection that kept him calm in
the presence of the victory for which he had made the full offering of
his soul.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

_He Cannot, But He Does!_

Ensal Ellwood entered his room in his home in Monrovia, Liberia, West
Coast Africa, a thoroughly dejected man. He had just returned from an
extended trip in which he took a survey of his work and contemplated the
outlook. His investigations had served to increase his hopes as to the
possibilities of the African race, but he was nevertheless depressed.

Nor was this the first time during his stay in Africa that this gloomy
atmosphere seemed to envelop him. In fact, he was the subject of
frequent attacks of melancholia which the many friends that he had made
had found inexplicable.

This depression was not due to the African fever, because science had
been able to prepare his system to resist that debilitating agency.

It was not due to a want of encouragement in his plans. He had met this
on every hand. A number of Southern men in sympathy with the higher
aspirations of the Negro race, hopeless of seeing those aspirations
realized in the Southland, had placed at his disposal a large sum of
money with which to draw off the Negro population from unfriendly points
in the South and establish them in Africa.

Far sighted capitalists of America seeing in an awakened Africa a
possible market for American goods, thought it wise to keep in touch
with this young man who was to be so largely the great awakening agency.

England, France and Germany vied with each other in offering inducements
for him to devote his energies to their respective holdings. The
Republic of Liberia was wild with joy over his interest in her welfare.
The King of Abyssinia had made urgent requests for him to come to his
borders.

Thousands of cultured young men and women had caught Ensal's zeal for
the world-wide awakening of the race and were only awaiting his signal
to flock to his standard.

And yet his heart was heavy. Ensal took his seat at his desk and rested
his throbbing brow thereon. He mused to himself, saying:

"Here I am with the mightiest work of the ages on my hands, and the door
of opportunity before me, and yet, terrible, terrible thought, I see
failure written