It is not long ago, since a free colored man in Baltimore was betrothed to a young slave of eighteen, nearly white, and very beautiful.  If they married, their children would be slaves, and he would have no power to protect his handsome wife from any outrages an unprincipled master, or his sons, might choose to perpetrate.  Therefore, he wisely resolved to marry in a land of freedom.  He placed her in a box, with a few holes in it, small enough not to attract attention.  With tender care, he packed hay around her, that she might not be bruised when thrown from the cars with other luggage.  The anxiety of the lover was dreadful.  Still more terrible was it, when waiting for her in Philadelphia, he found that the precious box had not arrived.  They had happened to have an unusual quantity of freight, and the baggage-master, after turning the box over, in rough, railroad fashion had concluded to leave it till the next train.  The poor girl was thrown into a most uneasy position, without the power of changing it.  She was nearly suffocated for want of air; the hay-seed fell into her eyes and nostrils, and it required almost superhuman efforts to refrain from sneezing or choking.  Added to this was terror lest her absence be discovered, and the heavy box examined.  In that state of mind and body, she remained more than two hours, in the hot sun on the railroad platform.  At last, the box arrived in Philadelphia, and the lover and his friends conveyed it to a place of safety as speedily as possible.  Those who were present at the opening, say it was the most impressive scene they ever witnessed.  Silently, almost breathlessly, they drew out the nails, expecting to find a corpse.  When the cover was lifted, she smiled faintly in the anxious face of her lover.  “O God, she is alive!” he exclaimed, and broke down in a paroxysm of sobs.  She had a terrible brain fever, and when she recovered from it, her glossy hair was sprinkled with gray, and the weight of ten years was added to her youthful face.  Thanks to the vigilance and secrecy of friends, the hounds of the United States, who use the Constitution for their kennel, did not get a chance to lap the blood of this poor trembling hare.

Legislators of Massachusetts! suppose this innocent girl had been your own Mary or Emma, would you not straightway demand amendment of the Constitution, in no very measured terms?  And if it could not be obtained right speedily, would you not ride over the Constitution roughshod?  If you would not, you do not deserve to have such blessings as lovely and innocent daughters.

You have all heard of Margaret Garner, who escaped from Kentucky to Ohio, with her father and mother, her husband and four children.  The Cincinnati papers described her as “a dark mulatto, twenty-three years of age, of an interesting appearance, considerable intelligence, and a good address.”  Her husband was described as “about twenty-two years old, of a very lithe, active form, and rather a mild, pleasant