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the miseries of confinement. I was in a right frame for it,
and so I gave full scope to my imagination.
I was going to begin with the millions of my fellow-
creatures born to no inheritance but slavery, but finding,
however affecting the pićture was, that I could not bring it

nearer me, and that the multitude of sad groups in it did but

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C H A P. III, -
CoR poR AL TRIM's ELO QUENCE.

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with it—The whole kitchen crowded about the corporal. “Are we not here now—and gone !—in a moment * There was nothing in the sentence—it was one of your self. self evident truths we have the advantage of hearing every day; and if Trim had not trusted more to his hat than his s head, he had made nothing at all of it. “Are we not here now, continued the corporal, and “ are we not (dropping his hat plump upon the ground “ —and pausing, before he pronounced the word) gone ! , “ in a moment * The descent of the hat was as if a heavy lump of clay had been kneaded into the crown of it. Nothing could have expressed the sentiment of mortality, of which it was the type and forerunner, like it; his hand seemed to vanish from under it, it fell dead, the corporal’s eye fixed upon it, as upon a corpse—and Susannah burst into a flood of tears.

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