then give out a degree of virtue, slavery has none to lead those beyond its own atmosphere.  To avoid, then, the terrors to which, even on the free soil of the north, a fugitive slave is constantly liable, as also that serpent-like prejudice—­for into the puritanic regions of New England, forsooth, does slavery spread its more refined objections to colour—­which makes the manners of one class cold and icy, while acting like a dagger in the hearts of the other, was it necessary to change her name.  How many of my fair readers, then, will recur to and recognise in the lovely Sylvia De Lacy—­whose vivacity made them joyous in their school days, and whose charms all envied-the person of Annette Mazatlin.  Nothing could be more true than that the pretty blonde, Sylvia De Lacy, who passed at school as the daughter of a rich Bahamian, was but the humble slave of our worthy wag, Mr. Pringle Blowers.  But we beg the reader to remember that, as Sylvia De Lacy, with her many gallant admirers, she is a far different person from Annette the slave.

Clotilda is made acquainted with the steps Montague has taken in behalf of his charge, as also of a further intention he will carry out at the expiration of two years; which said intention is neither more nor less than the making Sylvia De Lacy his bride ere her school days have ended.  In the earnestness of a heart teeming of joy, does Clotilda respond to the disclosures she is pleased to term glad tidings.  Oft and fervently has she invoked the All-protecting hand to save her child from the licentious snares of slavery; and now that she is rescued, her soul can rest satisfied.  How her heart rejoices to learn that her slave child will hereafter be happy in this life! ever will she pray that peace and prosperity reward their virtues.  Her own prospects brighten with the thought that she may, ere long, see them under her own comfortable roof, and bestow a mother’s love on the head of her long-lost child.

And now my reader will please to suppose these two years of school-days passed-that nuptial ceremony in which so many mingled their congratulations, and showered blandest smiles upon the fair bride, celebrated in a princely mansion not far from the aristocratic Union Square of New York-and our happy couple launched upon that path of matrimony some facetious old gentlemen have been pleased to describe as so crooked that others fear to journey upon it.  They were indeed a happy couple, with each future prospect golden of fortune’s sunshine.  Did we describe in detail the reign of happiness portended on the bright day of that nuptial ceremony, how many would recognise the gay figures of those who enlivened the scene-how deceptive would seem the fair face of events-how obscured would be presented the life of a slave in this our world of freedom-how false that democracy so boastful of its even-handed rule!