The author's life experiences described throughout the passage primarily reflect his - attitudes toward slavery - thoughts on social injustice - evolution of thought - motivation to read - contemplation of childhood

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  1. The author's life experiences described throughout the passage primarily reflect his

- attitudes toward slavery

- thoughts on social injustice

- evolution of thought

- motivation to read

- contemplation of childhood

In the same book, I met with one of Sheridan's mighty speeches on and in behalf of
Catholic emancipation. These were choice documents to me. I read them over and
over again with unabated interest. They gave tongue to interesting thoughts of my
own soul, which had frequently flashed through my mind, and died away for want of
utterance. The moral which I gained from the dialogue was the power of truth over
the conscience of even a slaveholder. What I got from Sheridan was a bold
denunciation of slavery, and a powerful vindication of human rights. The reading of
these documents enabled me to utter my thoughts, and to meet the arguments
brought forward to sustain slavery; but while they relieved me of one difficulty, they
brought on another even more painful than the one of which I was relieved. The
more I read, the more I was led to abhor and detest my enslavers. I could regard
them in no other light than a band of successful robbers, who had left their homes,
and gone to Africa, and stolen us from our homes, and in a strange land reduced us
to slavery. I loathed them as being the meanest as well as the most wicked of men.
As I read and contemplated the subject, behold! that very discontentment which
Master Hugh had predicted would follow my learning to read had already come, to
torment and sting my soul to unutterable anguish. As I writhed under it, I would at
times feel that learning to read had been a curse rather than a blessing. It had
given me a view of my wretched condition, without the remedy. It opened my eyes
to the horrible pit, but to no ladder upon which to get out. In moments of agony, I
envied my fellow-slaves for their stupidity. I have often wished myself a beast. I
preferred the condition of the meanest reptile to my own. Any thing, no matter what,
to get rid of thinking! It was this everlasting thinking of my condition that tormented
me. There was no getting rid of it. It was pressed upon me by every object within
sight or hearing, animate or inanimate. The silver trump of freedom had roused my
soul to eternal wakefulness. Freedom now appeared, to disappear no more forever.
It was heard in every sound, and seen in every thing. It was ever present to torment
me with a sense of my wretched condition. I saw nothing without seeing it, I heard
nothing without hearing it, and felt nothing without feeling it. It looked from every
star, it smiled in every calm, breathed in every wind, and moved in every storm.
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Transcribed Image Text:In the same book, I met with one of Sheridan's mighty speeches on and in behalf of Catholic emancipation. These were choice documents to me. I read them over and over again with unabated interest. They gave tongue to interesting thoughts of my own soul, which had frequently flashed through my mind, and died away for want of utterance. The moral which I gained from the dialogue was the power of truth over the conscience of even a slaveholder. What I got from Sheridan was a bold denunciation of slavery, and a powerful vindication of human rights. The reading of these documents enabled me to utter my thoughts, and to meet the arguments brought forward to sustain slavery; but while they relieved me of one difficulty, they brought on another even more painful than the one of which I was relieved. The more I read, the more I was led to abhor and detest my enslavers. I could regard them in no other light than a band of successful robbers, who had left their homes, and gone to Africa, and stolen us from our homes, and in a strange land reduced us to slavery. I loathed them as being the meanest as well as the most wicked of men. As I read and contemplated the subject, behold! that very discontentment which Master Hugh had predicted would follow my learning to read had already come, to torment and sting my soul to unutterable anguish. As I writhed under it, I would at times feel that learning to read had been a curse rather than a blessing. It had given me a view of my wretched condition, without the remedy. It opened my eyes to the horrible pit, but to no ladder upon which to get out. In moments of agony, I envied my fellow-slaves for their stupidity. I have often wished myself a beast. I preferred the condition of the meanest reptile to my own. Any thing, no matter what, to get rid of thinking! It was this everlasting thinking of my condition that tormented me. There was no getting rid of it. It was pressed upon me by every object within sight or hearing, animate or inanimate. The silver trump of freedom had roused my soul to eternal wakefulness. Freedom now appeared, to disappear no more forever. It was heard in every sound, and seen in every thing. It was ever present to torment me with a sense of my wretched condition. I saw nothing without seeing it, I heard nothing without hearing it, and felt nothing without feeling it. It looked from every star, it smiled in every calm, breathed in every wind, and moved in every storm. 30 35 40 45 50
(The following passage is an excerpt from a narrative text written in 1845 by a leading orator for the
American Anti-Slavery Society.).
I lived in Master Hugh's family about seven years. During this time, I succeeded in
learning to read and write. In accomplishing this, I was compelled to resort to
various stratagems. I had no regular teacher. 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. . . .
The plan which I adopted, and the one by which I was most successful, was that of
making friends of all the little white boys whom I met in the street. As many of these
as I could, I converted into teachers. With their kindly aid, obtained at different
times and in different places, I finally succeeded in learning to read. When I was
sent of errands, I always took my book with me, and by going one part of my errand
quickly, I found time to get a lesson before my return. . . .
I was now about twelve years old, and the thought of being a slave for life began to
bear heavily upon my heart. Just about this time, I got hold of a book entitled "The
Columbian Orator." Every opportunity I got, I used to read this book. Among much
of other interesting matter, I found in it a dialogue between a master and his slave.
The slave was represented as having run away from his master three times. The
dialogue represented the conversation which took place between them, when the
slave was retaken the third time. In this dialogue, the whole argument in behalf of
slavery was brought forward by the master, all of which was disposed of by the
slave. The slave was made to say some very smart as well as impressive things in
reply to his master-things which had the desired though unexpected effect; for the
conversation resulted in the voluntary emancipation of the slave on the part of the
master.
In the same book, I met with one of Sheridan's mighty speeches on and in behalf of
Catholic emancipation. These were choice documents to me. I read them over and
over again with unabated interest. They gave tongue to interesting thoughts of my
own soul, which had frequently flashed through my mind, and died away for want of
utterance. The moral which I gained from the dialogue was the power of truth over
the conscience of even a slaveholder. What I got from Sheridan was a bold
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Transcribed Image Text:(The following passage is an excerpt from a narrative text written in 1845 by a leading orator for the American Anti-Slavery Society.). I lived in Master Hugh's family about seven years. During this time, I succeeded in learning to read and write. In accomplishing this, I was compelled to resort to various stratagems. I had no regular teacher. 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. . . . The plan which I adopted, and the one by which I was most successful, was that of making friends of all the little white boys whom I met in the street. As many of these as I could, I converted into teachers. With their kindly aid, obtained at different times and in different places, I finally succeeded in learning to read. When I was sent of errands, I always took my book with me, and by going one part of my errand quickly, I found time to get a lesson before my return. . . . I was now about twelve years old, and the thought of being a slave for life began to bear heavily upon my heart. Just about this time, I got hold of a book entitled "The Columbian Orator." Every opportunity I got, I used to read this book. Among much of other interesting matter, I found in it a dialogue between a master and his slave. The slave was represented as having run away from his master three times. The dialogue represented the conversation which took place between them, when the slave was retaken the third time. In this dialogue, the whole argument in behalf of slavery was brought forward by the master, all of which was disposed of by the slave. The slave was made to say some very smart as well as impressive things in reply to his master-things which had the desired though unexpected effect; for the conversation resulted in the voluntary emancipation of the slave on the part of the master. In the same book, I met with one of Sheridan's mighty speeches on and in behalf of Catholic emancipation. These were choice documents to me. I read them over and over again with unabated interest. They gave tongue to interesting thoughts of my own soul, which had frequently flashed through my mind, and died away for want of utterance. The moral which I gained from the dialogue was the power of truth over the conscience of even a slaveholder. What I got from Sheridan was a bold Line 5 10 15 20 25 30
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