John Taylor

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I was not born a slave! I cannot, will not be a slave. I would not be slave to God! I’d be his servant, friend, his son. I’d go at his behest; but would not be his slave. I’d rather be extinct than be a slave?.A slave! The manacles would pierce my very bones—the clanking chains would grate upon my soul—a poor, lost, servile, crawling wretch to lick the dust and dawn and smile upon the thing who gave the lash!?But stop! I’m God’s free man! I will not, cannot be a slave!

Life of John Taylor

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I was not born a slave! I cannot, will not be a slave. I would not be slave to God! I’d be his servant, friend, his son. I’d go at his behest; but would not be his slave. I’d rather be extinct than be a slave?.A slave! The manacles would pierce my very bones—the clanking chains would grate upon my soul—a poor, lost, servile, crawling wretch to lick the dust and dawn and smile upon the thing who gave the lash!?But stop! I’m God’s free man! I will not, cannot be a slave!

Life of John Taylor

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