Stones and sticks, with which the populace were armed, were freely used, to the great discomfiture of the English soldiers. “Don’t hesitate! come on! We’ll drive these rebels out of Boston!” were the last words heard from the lips of the colored man, for the sharp crack of muskets silenced his voice, and he fell weltering in his blood. Two balls had pierced his sable breast. Thus died Crispus Attucks, the first martyr to American liberty, and the inaugurator of the revolution that was destined to take from the crown of George the Third its brightest star. An immense concourse of citizens followed the remains of the hero to its last resting-place, and his name was honorably mentioned in the best circles. The last words, the daring, and the death of Attucks gave spirit and enthusiasm to the revolution, and his heroism was imitated by both whites and blacks. His name was a rallying cry for the brave colored men who fought at the battle of Bunker’s Hill. In the gallant defence of Redbank, where four hundred blacks met and defeated fifteen hundred Hessians, headed by Count Donop, the thought of Attucks filled them with ardor. When Colonel Green fell at Groton, surrounded by his black troops who perished with him, they went into the battle feeling proud of the opportunity of imitating the first martyr of the American revolution. No monument has yet been erected to him. An effort was made in the legislature of Massachusetts a few years since, but without success. Five generations of accumulated prejudice against the negro had excluded from the American mind all inclination to do justice to one of her bravest sons. Now that slavery is abolished, we may hope, in future years, to see a monument raised to commemorate the heroism of Crispus Attucks. PHILLIS WHEATLEY. In the year 1761, when Boston had her slave market, and the descendants of the Pilgrims appeared to be the most pious and God-fearing people in the world, Mrs. John Wheatley went into the market one day, for the purpose of selecting and purchasing a girl for her own use. Among the group of children just imported from the African coast was a delicately-built, rather good-looking child of seven or eight years, apparently suffering from the recent sea-voyage and change of climate. Mrs. Wheatley’s heart was touched at the interesting countenance and humble modesty of this little stranger. The lady bought the child, and she was named Phillis. Struck with the slave’s uncommon brightness, the mistress determined to teach her to read, which she did with no difficulty. The child soon mastered the English language, with which she was totally unacquainted when she landed upon the American shores.