"But I was born in Afric's tawny strand,
And you in fair Britannia's fairer land.
Comes freedom, then, from colour?--Blush with shame!
And let strong Nature's crimson mark your blame.
I speak to Britons.--Britons, then, behold
A man by Britons _snar'd_, and _seiz'd_, and _sold_!
And yet no British statute damns the deed,
Nor do the more than murd'rous villains bleed.

"O sons of freedom! equalize your laws,
Be all consistent, plead the Negro's cause;
That all the nations in your code may see
The British Negro, like the Briton, free.
But, should he supplicate your laws in vain,
To break, for ever, this disgraceful chain,
At least, let gentle usage so abate
The galling terrors of its passing state,
That he may share kind Heav'n's all social plan;
For, though no Briton, Mungo is--a man."

I may now add, that few theatrical pieces had a greater run than the
Padlock; and that this epilogue, which was attached to it soon after it
came out, procured a good deal of feeling for the unfortunate sufferers,
whose cause it was intended to serve.

Another coadjutor, to whom these cruel and wicked practices gave birth, was
Thomas Day, the celebrated author of Sandford and Merton, and whose virtues
were well known among those who had the happiness of his friendship. In the
year 1773 he published a poem, which he wrote expressly in behalf of the
oppressed Africans. He gave it the name of The Dying Negro. The preface to