contentment and happiness when changed for the service of Mahommed Ali, an officer of eminence in the court of Tunis.  He was indeed one who might well exemplify the assertion, that in all religions there is some good.  Suffering and sorrow were aliens from his roof, misery approached not his doors, and Mordaunt had, in fact, been purchased from motives of compassion, which his evident wretchedness, both bodily and mental, had excited; to cure his bodily ills no kindly attention was spared, but vainly Mahommed Ali sought to lessen the load of anguish he saw imprinted on the brow of his Christian captive.  Mordaunt’s noble spirit was touched by the indulgence and kindness he received, and he made no effort to escape, for he felt it would be but an ungenerous, dishonourable return—­but still he was a slave.  No fetters galled his limbs, but the fetters of slavery galled his spirits with a deep anguish; no taskmaster was now set over him with the knotted whip, to spur on each slackening effort; but the groan which no bodily suffering could wring, which he had suppressed, lest his persecutors should triumph, now burst from his sorrowing heart, and scalding drops stole down his cheeks, when he deemed no eye was near.  Slavery, slavery seemed his for ever, and each fond vision of his native land and all he loved but added to the burden on his soul.

Mahommed at length became so deeply interested in his Christian slave, that he offered him freedom, wealth, distinction, his own friendship and support, all on the one, he thought, simple and easy condition of giving up his country and his faith, and embracing the one holy creed of Mahomet.  In kindness was the offer made, but mournfully, yet with a steadiness that gave no hope of change, was it refused; vainly Mahommed urged the happiness its acceptance would bring, that he knew not all he so rashly refused; still he wavered not, and Ali with a weary heart gave up the attempt.  Time passed, but its fleeting years reconciled not Mordaunt to his situation, nor lessened the kindly interest he excited in the heart of the good old man; and when at length it happened that Mordaunt, almost unconsciously to himself, became the fortunate instrument of reconciling some affairs of his master, which were in confusion, and had been so for years, when, among many other unexpected services which it had been in his power to perform, he rescued the favourite son of Mahommed from an infuriated tiger, which had unexpectedly sprung upon him during a hunting expedition, the old man could contain his wishes no longer, but gave him his freedom on the spot.  Unconditional liberty to return to his native land was very soon after accorded, and loading him with rich gifts, Ali himself accompanied him to the deck of the Alma, which was the only vessel then starting from the coast of Guinea, where Mahommed in general resided.  Mordaunt was too impatient to wait for an English vessel, nor did he wish to incur the risk of encountering any hostile to his interests, by crossing the country and embarking from Algiers or Tunis.  While in Africa he felt that the chain of slavery still hovered round his neck.  He could not feel himself once more a freeborn Briton till he was indeed on the bounding ocean.