Her school lessons were all perfect, and she drank in the Scriptural teachings as if by intuition. At the age of twelve, she could write letters and keep up a correspondence that would have done honor to one double her years. Mrs. Wheatley, seeing her superior genius, no longer regarded Phillis as a servant, but took her as a companion. It was not surprising that the slave-girl should be an object of attraction, astonishment, and attention with the refined and highly-cultivated society that weekly assembled in the drawing-room of the Wheatleys. As Phillis grew up to womanhood, her progress and attainments kept pace with the promise of her earlier years. She drew around her the best educated of the white ladies, and attracted the attention and notice of the literary characters of Boston, who supplied her with books, and encouraged the ripening of her intellectual powers. She studied the Latin tongue, and translated one of Ovid’s tales, which was no sooner put in print in America, than it was republished in London, with elegant commendations from the reviews. In 1773, a small volume of her poems, containing thirty-nine pieces, was published in London, and dedicated to the Countess of Huntingdon. The genuineness of this work was established in the first page of the volume, by a document signed by the governor of Massachusetts, the lieutenant-governor, her master, and fifteen of the most respectable and influential citizens of Boston, who were acquainted with her talents and the circumstances of her life. Her constitution being naturally fragile, she was advised by her physician to take a sea voyage, as the means of restoring her declining health. Phillis was emancipated by her master at the age of twenty-one years, and sailed for England. On her arrival, she was received and admired in the first circles of London society; and it was at that time that her poems were collected and published in a volume, with a portrait and a memoir of the authoress. Phillis returned to America, and married Dr. Peters, a man of her own color, and of considerable talents. Her health began rapidly to decline, and she died at the age of twenty-six years, in 1780. Fortunately rescued from the fate that awaits the victims of the slave-trade, this injured daughter of Africa had an opportunity of developing the genius that God had given her, and of showing to the world the great wrong done to her race. Although her writings are not free from imperfections of style and sentiment, her verses are full of philosophy, beauty, and sublimity. It cost her no effort to round a period handsomely, or polish a sentence until it became transparent with splendor. She was easy, forcible, and eloquent in language, and needed but health and a few more years of experience to have made her a poet of greater note. BENJAMIN BANNEKER.