‘I was not born a little slave, To labor in the sun; And wish I were but in my grave, And all my labor done.’
Oh! I exclaimed as I entered my study, and sat down before a bright, cheerful fireside, and was greeted with the kind look of an affectionate wife, as the storm howled over the mountains, Oh! God made man to be _free_, and he must be a _wretch_, and not a man, who can quench all this social light forever. I hate not slavery so much for its fetters, and whips, and starvation, as for the blight and mildew it casts upon the social and moral condition of man. Oh! enslave not a soul—a deathless spirit—trample not upon a mind, ’tis an _immortal thing_. Man perchance may light anew the torch he quenches, but the soul! Oh! tremble and beware—lay not rude hands upon God’s image there—I thought of the vast territory that stretches from the Atlantic to the foot of the Rocky Mountains, and from our Southern border to the heart of our Capitol, as one mighty altar of Mammon—where so much social light is sacrificed and blotted from the universe; where so many deathless spirits, that God made free as the mountain wild bird, are chained down forever, and I kneeled around my family altar, and I could not help uttering a prayer from the depths of my soul, for the millions of _God’s creatures, and my brethren_, who pass lives of loneliness and sorrow in a world which has been lighted up with the Redeemer’s salvation. What a scene for man to look at when he prays: A God who loves to make all his creatures happy! A world which groans because man is a sinner! A man who loves to make his brother wretched! Oh! thought I, if prayer can reach a father’s ear to-night, one yoke shall be broken, and one oppressed slave shall go free.
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They get into a wild country, “full of all kinds of varmints,” and begin to build—Peter knocked off of a barn by his master—story of a rattlesnake charming a child—Peter hews the timber for a new house, and gets paid in lashes—Tom Ludlow an abolitionist—Peter’s friends all advise him to run off—the fox-tail company, their expeditions on Oneida Lake—deer stories—Rotterdam folks—story of a pain’ter—master pockets Peter’s share of the booty and bounty—the girls of the family befriend him—a sail on the Lake—Peter is captain, and saves the life of a young lady who falls overboard, and nearly loses his own—kindly and generously treated by the young lady’s father, who gives Peter a splendid suit of clothes worth seventy dollars, and “a good many other notions”—his master ☞ steals his clothes ☜ and wears them out himself—Mr. Tucker’s opinion of his character, and Peter’s of his fate.