Death Is Better Than Slavery.

When I Was Nearly Twelve Years Old, My Kind Mistress Sickened And Died.

If You Want To Be Fully Convinced Of The Abominations Of Slavery, Go On A Southern Plantation, And Call Yourself A Negro Trader. Then There Will Be No Concealment; And You Will See And Hear Things That Will Seem To You Impossible Among Human Beings With Immortal Souls.

But To The Slave Mother New Year's Day Comes Laden With Peculiar Sorrows. She Sits On Her Cold Cabin Floor, Watching The Children Who May All Be Torn From Her The Next Morning And Often Does She Wish That She And They Might Die Before The Day Dawns.

During The First Years Of My Service In Dr. Flint's Family, I Was Accustomed To Share Some Indulgences With The Children Of My Mistress

I Would Rather Drudge Out My Life On A Cotton Plantation, Till The Grave Opened To Give Me Rest, Than To Live With An Unprincipled Master And A Jealous Mistress.