left alone also married. Her husband was named Peters. He, far inferior to her in most every way, and becoming jealous of the favors shown her by the best of society, became very cruel. Phillis did not-long survive his harsh treatment, and she died "greatly beloved" and mourned on two continents, December 5, 1784, at the age of 31.

Thus passed away one of the brightest of the race, whose life was as pure as a crystal and devoted to the most beautiful in poetry, letters and religion, and exemplifies the capabilities of the race.

She composed this verse:

"'Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan land,
Taught my benighted soul to understand

That there's a God-that there's a Saviour, too;
Once I redemption neither sought nor knew."

Contrary to the Connecticut slaveholders' feigned unbelief in the intellectual capacity of the Negro, and their assertions of his utter inferiority in all things, they early enacted the most rigid laws prohibiting the teaching of any Negro to read, bond or free, with a penalty of several hundred dollars for every such act. The following undeniable story is woven into the fabric of Connecticut's history, and tells a sad tale of the prejudice of her people against the Negro during the days of slavery there:

"Prudence Crandall, a young Quaker lady of

talent, was employed to teach a 'boarding and dayschool.' While at her post of duty one day, Sarah Harris, whose father was a well-to-do colored farmer, applied for admission. Miss Crandall hesitated somewhat to admit her, but knowing the girl's respectability, her lady-like and modest deportment, for she was a member of the white people's church and well known to them, she finally told her yes. The girl came. Soon Miss Crandall was called upon by the patrons, announcing their disgust and loathing that their daughters should attend school with a 'nigger girl.' Miss Crandall protested, but. to no avail. The white pupils were finally taken from the school. Miss Crandall then opened a school for colored ladies. She enrolled about twenty, but they were subjected to many outrageous insults. They were denied accommodation altogether in the village of Canterbury. Their well was filled up with trash, and all kinds of unpleasant and annoying acts were thrust upon them. The people felt determined that Canterbury should not have the disgrace of a colored school. No, not even the State of Connecticut. Miss Crandall sent to Brooklyn to some of her friends. They pleaded in her behalf privately, and went to a town meeting to speak for her, but were denied the privilege. Finally, the Legislature passed a law prohibiting colored schools in the State. From the advice of her friends and her own

strong will, Miss Crandall continued to teach. She was arrested and her friends were sent for. They came, but would not be persuaded by the sheriff and other officers to stand her bond. The people saw the disgrace and felt ashamed to have it go down in history that she was put in jail. In agreement with Miss Crandall's wishes her friends still persisted, so about night she was put in jail, into a murderer's cell. The news flashed over the country, much to the Connecticut people's chagrin and disgrace. She had her trial-the court evaded giving a decision. She opened her school again, and an attempt was made to burn up the building while she and the pupils were there, but proved unsuccessful. One night about midnight they were aroused to find themselves besieged by persons with heavy iron bars and clubs breaking the windows and tearing things to pieces. It was then thought unwise to continue the school longer. So the doors were closed, and the poor girls, whose only offence was a manifestation for knowledge, were sent to their homes. This law, however, was repealed in 1838, after lasting five years.

CHAPTER V.

NEW HAMPSHIRE AND MARYLAND.

New Hampshire slaves were very few in number. The people of this colony saw the evils of slavery very early, and passed laws against their importation. Massachusetts was having so much trouble with her slaves that the New Hampshire people early made up their minds that, as a matter of business as well as of humanity, they had best not try to build up their colony by dealing in human flesh and blood.

Maryland was, up to 1630, a part of Virginia, and slavery there partook of the same features. Owing to the feeling existing in the colony between the Catholics, who planted it, and the Protestants, the slaves were treated better than in some other provinces. Yet their lot was a hard one at best. By law, a white person could kill a slave, and not suffer death; only pay a fine.

White Slaves existed in this colony, many of whom came as criminals from England. They, it seems, were chiefly domestic servants, while the Negroes worked the tobacco fields.

BENJAMIN BANNEKA, ASTRONOMER AND

MATHEMATICIAN.

Banneka was born in Maryland in the year 1731. An English woman named Molly Welsh, who came to Maryland as an emigrant, is said to have been his maternal grandmother. This woman was sold as a slave to pay her passage to this country on board an emigrant ship, and after serving out her term of slavery she bought two Negro slaves herself. These slaves were men of extraordinary powers, both of mind and body. One of them, said to be the son of an African king, was set free by her, and she soon married him. There were four children, and one of them, named Mary, married a native African, Robert Banneka, who was the father of Benjamin.

The School Days of young Benjamin were spent in a "pay school," where some colored children were admitted. The short while that Benjamin was there he learned to love his books, and when the other children played he was studying. He was very attentive to his duties on his father's farm, and when through with his task of caring for the horses and cows, he would spend his leisure hours in reading books and papers on the topics of the day.