Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass: Chapters 7–9

My mistress, who had kindly commenced to instruct me, had, in compliance with the advice and direction of her husband, not only ceased to instruct, but had set her face against my being instructed by any one else.

She at first lacked the depravity indispensable to shutting me up in mental darkness.

In entering upon the duties of a slaveholder, she did not seem to perceive that I sustained to her the relation of a mere chattel, and that for her to treat me as a human being was not only wrong, but dangerously so.

Slavery soon proved its ability to divest her of these heavenly qualities.

She now commenced to practise her husband’s precepts.

I am strongly tempted to give the names of two or three of those little boys, as a testimonial of the gratitude and affection I bear them; but prudence forbids; — not that it would injure me, but it might embarrass them; for it is almost an unpardonable offence to teach slaves to read in this Christian country.

I read them over and over again with unabated interest.

What I got from Sheridan was a bold denunciation of slavery, and a powerful vindication of human rights.

What I got from Sheridan was a bold denunciation of slavery, and a powerful vindication of human rights.

After a patient waiting, I got one of our city papers, containing an account of the number of petitions from the north, praying for the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia, and of the slave trade between the States.

A single word from the white men was enough — against all our wishes, prayers, and entreaties — to sunder forever the dearest friends, dearest kindred, and strongest ties known to human beings.

Bad as all slaveholders are, we seldom meet one destitute of every element of character commanding respect.

Prior to his conversion, he relied upon his own depravity to shield and sustain him in his savage barbarity; but after his conversion, he found religious sanction and support for his slaveholding cruelty.

He could not come among us without betraying his sympathy for us, and, stupid as we were, we had the sagacity to see it.

My city life, he said, had had a very pernicious effect upon me. It had almost ruined me for every good purpose, and fitted me for every thing which was bad.