wr*- From the information that I have juft given you, yon U v O will perhaps, my good friend, be apt to think with me, that even the moft fupportable kind of tyranny always brings with it its own puniihment, in troubled fleep and an uneafy confcience. Slaves, even under the mild eft tyrant, are bereaved of the rights of nature. The melancholy remembrance o f fo painful a lofs, is moft apt to arife during the lilence of the night, when it ceafes to be diffipated by the buftle o f the day. What wonder then, i f thofe who commit outrages on their liberties, ihould fometimes be forced to lign and feal with their blood the violated rights of mankind ? Ought not my hoft, gentle as he was, to fear the efledts of defpair on twelve ftout fellows forcibly taken from their native country, their kindred, and their freedom ? Is it not likewife to be dreaded, that thus Ihut out from the commerce o f the fair fex, ivhich fweetens life, and renders its cares fupportable, their inclinations, which are extremely warm, Ihould trefpafs againft manhood ?— In the courfe of our converfation on rural ceconomy I took notice, that a ilave born in the country (eipecially a bajtard) who can drive a waggon fafe and well, and who can be trufted to infpeft the other flaves, or is looked upon as a clever and faithful fervant, bears the price of five hundred rixdollars. One that is newly brought from. Madagafcar, or is in other refpedls not ib ikilful nor fo much to be depended upon, -coils from an hundred to an hundred and fifty rixdollars. A horfe that in Sweden would fetch ten rixdollars, coils at the Cape from thirty to forty; a draught ox from eight to ten; but a tolerable good milch-cow from twelve to fourteen; one i ditto ditto brought from the mother country or any part of Eu- j||® rope, and of a fort that produces a great quantity of milk, fells for forty or fifty rixdollars, and the purchafer thinks himfelf favoured into the bargain all which has fince been confirmed to me by feveral others. On Monday morning I took leave, and aiked the road towards home, when I was anfwered, “ There is no road this way. You muft leave the road that goes to the Cape to the right, and then go ftrait forward through the buihes, when you will come within fight o f the mountain that ftretches itfelf between Conftantia and the Cape; then go ftrait forward over the dry barren plains, to the nook in the mountain; you may remember it lies, very near Conftantia and your houfe. You will find no more farms in your way home.” Well 1 thought I to myfelf, this looks as i f I ihould dine upon grafs to-day; I was vexed at having had no breaftfaft, and was too bafhful to give a hint o f it to my hoft, who the day before had received me with fueh hofpitality. We had not long been in fight of the mountain, before we faw a cloud arife from it, which did not turn to rain till it arrived at the plain we were in. This ihower, which was pretty heavy, fubjedled me to the greateft inconveniencies, having expofed myfelf to be wet through, in order to fhel- ter my herbal. But of fuch a nature is this climate, that in a few minutes, as foon as the fun fhone out again, I was quite dry. In the evening, when I came to Alpben, I learned, that it had not rained there in the leaft, but the cloud covered the mountain in its ufual way. I muft not omit to tell you, that qn the road I feveral times entered into a religious difcourfe with my heathen L 1 com
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