to saw it, though his wife was shivering with cold. The descendants of Mrs. Wheatley did what they could to relieve her wants, after they discovered her extremely destitute condition; but, fortunately for her, she soon went "where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest." Her husband was so generally disliked, that people never called her Mrs. Peters. She was always called Phillis Wheatley, the name bestowed upon her when she first entered the service of her benefactress, and by which she had become known as a poetess. FOOTNOTE: [4] The ancient Greeks supposed that nine goddesses, whom they named Muses, inspired people to write various kinds of poetry. A PERTINENT QUESTION. BY FREDERICK DOUGLASS. "Is it not astonishing, that while we are ploughing, planting, and reaping, using all kinds of mechanical tools, erecting houses and constructing bridges, building ships, working in metals of brass, iron, and copper, silver and gold; that while we are reading, writing, and ciphering, acting as clerks, merchants, and secretaries, having among us lawyers, doctors, ministers, poets, authors, editors, orators, and teachers; that while we are engaged in all manner of enterprises common to other men, digging gold in California, capturing the whale in the Pacific, breeding sheep and cattle on the hillside; living, moving, acting, thinking, planning; living in families as husbands, wives, and children; and, above all, confessing and worshipping the Christian's God, and looking hopefully for immortal life beyond the grave;--is it not astonishing, I say, that we are called upon to prove that we are _men_?" THE WORKS OF PROVIDENCE. BY PHILLIS WHEATLEY. [Written at sixteen years of age.] Arise, my soul! on wings enraptured rise, To praise the Monarch of the earth and skies, Whose goodness and beneficence appear, As round its centre moves the rolling year; Or when the morning glows with rosy charms, Or the sun slumbers in the ocean's arms. Of light divine be a rich portion lent, To guide my soul and favor my intent. Celestial Muse, my arduous flight sustain, And raise my mind to a seraphic strain! Adored forever be the God unseen, Who round the sun revolves this vast machine; Though to his eye its mass a point appears: Adored the God that whirls surrounding spheres, Who first ordained that mighty Sol[5] should reign, The peerless monarch of th' ethereal train. Of miles twice forty millions is his height, And yet his radiance dazzles mortal sight, So far beneath,--from him th' extended earth Vigor derives, and every flowery birth. Vast through her orb she moves, with easy grace, Around her Phoebus[6] in unbounded space; True to her course, the impetuous storm derides, Triumphant o'er the winds and surging tides.