the dignity of legal proceedings, served on the honourable sheriff.  We give a portion of it, for those who are not informed on such curious matters:  it runs thus:—­“’The girl Clotilda-aged 27 years; her child Annette-aged 7 years, and a remarkable boy, Nicholas, 6 years old, all negroes, levied upon at the suit of—­, to satisfy a fi fa issued from the—­, and set forth to be the property of Hugh Marston of—­, &c. &c.;’” as set forth in the writ of attachment.  Thus runs the curious law, based on privilege, not principle.

The document served on the sheriff, Marston resolved to remain a few days in the city and watch its effect.  The sheriff, who is seldom supposed to evince sympathy in his duties, conforms with the ordinary routine of law in nigger cases; and, in his turn, gives notice to the plaintiff, who is required to enter security for the purpose of testing the point of freedom.  Freedom here is a slender commodity; it can be sworn away for a small compensation.  Mr. Anthony Romescos has peculiar talent that way, and his services are always in the market.  The point, however, has not resolved itself into that peculiar position where it must be either a matter of compromise, or a question for the court and jury to decide.

If Marston, now sensible of his position as father of the children, will yield them a sacrifice to the man trader, it is in his power; the creditors will make it their profit.  Who, then, can solve the perplexity for him?  The custom of society, pointing the finger of shame, denies him the right to acknowledge them his children.  Society has established the licentious wrong,—­the law protects it, custom enforces it.  He can only proceed by declaring the mother to be a free woman, and leaving the producing proof to convict her of being slave property to the plaintiff.  In doing this, his judgment wars with his softer feelings.  Custom—­though it has nothing to give him-is goading him with its advice; it tells him to abandon the unfashionable, unpolite scheme.  Natural laws have given birth to natural feelings—­natural affections are stronger than bad laws.  They burn with our nature,—­they warm the gentle, inspire the noble, and awake the daring that lies unmoved until it be called into action for the rescue of those for whom our affections have taken life.

Things had arrived at that particular point where law-lovers-we mean lawyers-look on with happy consciences and pleasing expectations; that is, they had arrived at that certain hinge of slave law the turn of which sends men, women, and children, into the vortex of slavery, where their hopes are for ever crushed.  One day Marston had strong hopes of saving them; but his hopes vanished on the next.  The fair creature, by him made a wretch, seemed before him, on her bended knees, clasping his hand while imploring him to save her child.  The very thought would have doubly nerved him to action; and yet, what mattered such action against the force of slavery injustice?  All his exertions, all his pleadings, all his protestations, in a land where liberty boasts its greatness, would sink to nothing under the power he had placed in their possession for his overthrow.