human
Be it so! was, as usual, his conclusion--
gpt
Be it so! for as long as Heaven pleases--though that cannot be long. The one consolation of being buried alive, soul or body--or both, as in this case--is, that release is sure and near. This poor fellow's spirit will die within him, and his body will then be let out--the consummation most necessary for him. And my body, already failing, will soon die, and my work be done. To die, and to die thus, is part of my work; and I will do it as willingly as in the field. Hundreds, thousands of my race have died for slavery, cooped up, pining, suffocated in slave-ships, in the wastes of the sea. Hundreds and thousands have thus died, without knowing the end for which they perished. What is it, then, for one to die of cold in the wastes of the mountains, for freedom, and knowing that freedom is the end of his life and his death? What is it? If I groan, if I shrink, may my race curse me, and my God cast me out!