In 1853 when I went to Kentucky for the purpose of being married I was the guest of my friend Drake for several days. While sitting upon the veranda one evening one of his children was playing upon the lawn in front of the house, with a little negro tot two or three years of age. He called my attention to the colored child, stating that that was his "carriage driver" and that he was a child of one of the negro women that his wife had inherited a few years before, and he remarked that the child was worth then $600. I reminded him of our former conversation and discussion in regard to slavery and expressed my surprise that he would have any pleasure in calculating the money value of this child. He informed me that his views on the subject of slavery had undergone quite a change, and upon investigating the subject he was satisfied that the Bible fully justified the institution of slavery, and he thought it was right morally as well as legally to own and enjoy the possession of such property. I said but little in response to these arguments, but could not but reflect and be convinced that it was pecuniary investment that had its baleful influence upon the conscience of my friend and perverted his moral sense, and this was only to me an additional reason for hating the institution. When returning from Kentucky with my bride we stayed over a day at Louisville, as my wife desired to visit some old friends and former neighbors who had resided near them in Lexington. We accordingly made a call upon her friends, and while sitting in the parlor conversing about old times a colored woman about the age of my wife came into the room, and greeting us begged to inquire of my wife in regard to her husband, it appearing from her story the family had moved from Lexington to Louisville about two years before, and that the woman had been separated from her husband, who still resided in Lexington and was the property of another party. In the meantime the slave woman had given birth to a child, and amid her tears told how she longed to see her husband and have him see her young babe. The interview was cut short when the slave woman was remanded to the kitchen, and the cheerful recall of pleasant reminiscences became rather sad. The family insisted upon my wife and myself remaining to dinner and pressed upon us with great earnestness their hospitality. My wife was disposed to accept of the invitation, but having only been married the week before, I was not prepared to accept of the hospitality of people who separated a husband and wife thus ruthlessly, and I retired with thanks, and we took our dinner at the hotel. After I settled in Keosauqua, Iowa, I became a subscriber to and a constant reader of the New York _Tribune_, and in due time also read with much interest that wonderful book written by Harriet Beecher Stowe, called _Uncle Tom's Cabin_.