causes, it is hard to be submissive. I did not reason thus when I was a
young girl. Youth will be youth. I loved and I indulged the hope that the
dark clouds around me would turn out a bright lining. I forgot that in the
land of my birth the shadows are too dense for light to penetrate. A land

Where laughter is not mirth; nor thought the mind;
Nor words a language; nor e'en men mankind.
Where cries reply to curses, shrieks to blows,
And each is tortured in his separate hell.

There was in the neighborhood a young colored carpenter; a free born man.
We had been well acquainted in childhood, and frequently met together
afterwards. We became mutually attached, and he proposed to marry me. I
loved him with all the ardor of a young girl's first love. But when I
reflected that I was a slave, and that the laws gave no sanction to the
marriage of such, my heart sank within me. My lover wanted to buy me; but I
knew that Dr. Flint was too willful and arbitrary a man to consent to that
arrangement. From him, I was sure of experiencing all sort of opposition,
and I had nothing to hope from my mistress. She would have been delighted
to have got rid of me, but not in that way. It would have relieved her mind
of a burden if she could have seen me sold to some distant state, but if I
was married near home I should be just as much in her husband's power as I
had previously been,--for the husband of a slave has no power to protect
her. Moreover, my mistress, like many others, seemed to think that slaves
had no right to any family ties of their own; that they were created merely
to wait upon the family of the mistress. I once heard her abuse a young
slave girl, who told her that a colored man wanted to make her his wife. "I
will have you peeled and pickled, my lady," said she, "if I ever hear you
mention that subject again. Do you suppose that I will have you tending
_my_ children with the children of that nigger?" The girl to whom she said