o
congenial to my own feelings, that I involuntarily stopped my horse.

My curiosity was now excited by seeing a very aged negro standing and
gazing steadily on a small decaying tomb. He seemed to be intent, and
did not observe me; his woolly locks were whitened by age; his
countenance was manly, though it bore the marks of sorrow; he was
leaning on his smooth-worn staff, the companion of many years. I was
somewhat surprised on seeing this aged African silently meditating among
the vestiges of the dead, and accordingly roused him from his reverie.
He started at first, but his confidence was soon gained. There is a
spring in the bosom of every Christian, which throws a joy into his
heart whenever he meets a fellow-christian during his pilgrimage here
below. I found the old negro to be an eminent Christian, and we were
soon acquainted. I inquired what motive induced him, at that hour of the
day, to visit these tombs. Instead of answering my question directly he
gave me the following account of himself, in broken language:--

About sixty years ago, this negro was living under his paternal roof in
Africa. He was the son of a chief of a small tribe, the pride of his
parents, and the delight of his countrymen; none could more dexterously
throw the dart; none more skilfully guide the fragile canoe over the
bosom of the deep. He was not far from twenty years of age, when, on a
fair summer's morn, he went in his little canoe to spend the day in
fishing. About noon he paddled his bark to the shore, and, under the
shade of a beautiful palmetto-tree, he reclined till the heat of
noon-day should be passed. He was young, healthy, and active; he knew
none whom he dreaded; he was a stranger to fear, and he dreamed only of
security, as he slept under the shade of his own native tree. Thus,
while our sky is encircled with the bow of happiness, we forget that it
may soon be overspread with darkness. When this African awoke, he found
his hands bound behind him, his feet fettered, and himself surrounded by
several white men, who were conveying him on board of their ship;--it
was a slave-ship. The vessel had her cargo completed, and was ready to
sail. As they were unfurling the sails, the son of Africa, with many
others of his countrymen, for the last time cast his eyes upon his
native shores. Futurity was dark,--was uncertain,--was despair. His
bosom thrilled with anguish, as he threw his last farewell look over the
plains of his native co