on, and unwearied efforts, the poor
African ceased to be hunted in our streets as a beast of prey. Miserable
as the roof might be, under which he slept, he slept in security. He
walked by the side of the stately ship, and he feared no dungeon in her
hold. Nor ought we, as Englishmen, to be less grateful to this
distinguished individual than the African ought to be upon this
occasion. To him we owe it, that we no longer see our public papers
polluted by hateful advertisements of the sale of the human species, or
that we are no longer distressed by the perusal of impious rewards for
bringing back the poor and the helpless into slavery, or that we are
prohibited the disgusting spectacle of seeing man bought by his
fellow-man. To him, in short, we owe this restoration of the beauty of
our constitution--this prevention of the continuance of our national
disgrace.

I shall say but little more of Mr. Sharp at present, than that he felt
it his duty, immediately after the trial, to write to Lord North, then
principal minister of state, warning him in the most earnest manner, to
abolish immediately both the trade and the slavery of the human species
in all the British dominions, as utterly irreconcileable with the
principles of the British constitution, and the established religion of
the land.

Among other coadjutors, whom the cruel and wicked practices which have
now been so amply detailed brought forward, was a worthy clergyman,
whose name I have not yet been able to learn. He endeavoured to interest
the public feeling in behalf of the injured Africans, by writing an
epilogue to the _Padlock_, in which Mungo appeared as a black servant.
This epilogue is so appropriate to the case, that I cannot but give it
to the reader. Mungo enters, and thus addresses the audience:--

Thank you, my massas! have you laugh your fill?
Then let me speak, nor take that freedom ill.
E'en from _my_ tongue some heart-felt truths may fall,
And outraged Nature claims the care of all.
My tale in _any_ place would force a tear,
But calls for stronger, deeper feelings here;
For whilst I tread the free-born British land,
Whilst now before me crowded Britons stand,--
Vain, vain that glorious privilege to me,
I am a slave, where all things else are free.

Yet was I born, as you are, no man's slave,
An heir to all that liberal Nature gave;
My mind can reason, and my limbs can move
The same as yours; like yours my heart c