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 can love; Alike my body food and sleep sustain; And e'en like yours--feels pleasure, want, and pain.
One sun rolls o'er us, common skies surround; One globe supports us, and one grave must bound.
Why then am I devoid of all to live That manly comforts to a man can give?
To live--untaught religion's soothing balm, Or life's choice arts; to live--unknown the calm, Of soft domestic ease; those sweets of life, The duteous offspring, and th' endearing wife?
To live--to property and rights unknown, Not e'en the common benefits my own! No arm to guard me from Oppression's rod, My will subservient to a tyrant's nod! No gentle hand, when life is in decay, To soothe my pains, and charm my cares away; But helpless left to quit the horrid stage, Harassed in youth, and desolate in age! 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 _snared_, and _seized_, and _sold!_ And yet no British statute damns the deed, Nor do the more than murderous 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 Heaven'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 it was written in an able manner by his friend Counsellor Bicknell, who is therefore to be ranked among the coadjutors in this great cause.

The poem was founded on a simple fact, which had taken place a year or two before.