Page:The White Slave, or Memoirs of a Fugitive.djvu/255

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A FUGITIVE.
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soars boldly triumphant, and disdains even the most distant thought of limitation. Here alone, of all the world beside, oppression riots unchecked by fear of God, or sympathy for man.

To add the last security to despotism, the American slave-holders, while they fiercely refuse to relinquish the least tittle of their whip-wielding authority, have deprived themselves, by special statute, of the power of emancipation, and have thus artfully and industriously closed up the last loop-hole, through which Hope might look in upon their victims!

And thou my child! — These are the mercies to which thy youth is delivered over! Perhaps already the spirit of manhood is extinguished within thee; already perhaps the frost of servitude has nipped thy budding soul, and left it blasted, — worthless.

No! — oh no! — It ought not, must not, cannot, shall not be so! Child! thou hast yet a father; — one who has not forgotten, and who will not forsake thee. Thy need is great — and great shall be his efforts; — that love is little worth which disappointment tires, or danger daunts.

Yes; — I have resolved it. I will revisit America, and through the length and the breadth of the land, I will search out my child. I will snatch him from the oppressor's grasp, or perish in the attempt. Should I be recognized and seized? — It is not in vain that I have read the history of the Romans; I know a way to disappoint the tyrants; the guilt be on their heads! I cannot be a slave the second time.