"Si fractus illabatur orbis, Impavidum ferient ruinæ.""

On the sixth of June, 1761, Winthrop observed the celebrated Transit of Venus, at St. John's, Newfoundland, making the voyage thither in a government vessel, at the charge of the Province, at the especial instance of Governor Bernard. This incident furnished the topic of the two poems in the Pietas et Gratulatio of the same year, which have been attributed to his pen.

Winthrop was followed, after an interval, in this subject, by one of his college pupils, Andrew Oliver, the eldest son of the Secretary of the Province, and a gentleman of leisure and of scientific and literary cultivation, who, in 1772, published his Essay on Comets, in which he maintained the theory that these bodies might be inhabited worlds, "and even comfortable habitations."* Oliver also wrote papers on Thunder Storms and Water Spouts, which were published in the Transactions of the American Philosophical Society, of which he was a member, as he was also one of the founders of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences.

In 1765 Professor Winthrop published an account of several fiery meteors visible in North America; and in 1766 his paper Cogitata de Cometis, which was communicated to the Royal Society by Dr. Franklin, and was separately printed

in London.

When the struggle of the colonies for freedom commenced he took part in it, and was one of the Council, with Bowdoin and Dexter, negatived by the home government. He was re-chosen; and was also made Judge of Probate for the County of Middlesex, an office which he held till his death, in 1779, at the age of sixty. His eulogy was pronounced by Professor Wigglesworth and others; and his pupil and friend, Andrew Oliver, composed an elegy, the only specimen preserved of this writer's poetic talents.

Ye sons of Harvard! who, by Winthrop taught,
Can travel round each planetary sphere;
And winged with his rapidity of thought,

Trace all the movements of the rolling year,
Drop on his urn the tribute of a tear.

Ye, whom the love of Geometry inspired,

To chase coy science through each winding maze; Whose breasts were with Newtonian ardor fired,

Catched by his sparks, and kindled at his blaze,
In grateful sighs, ejaculate his praise.

Ye philosophic souls! whose thoughts can trace
The wonders of the architect divine,
Through depths beneath, o'er nature's verdant face,
Where meteors play, where constellations shine,
Heave the deep groan, and mix your tears with

mine.

Ye tenants of the happy seats above!

Welcome this late inhabitant of clay, From hostile factions, to the realms of love, Where he may bask in everlasting day, Ye kindred spirits waft him in his way. When in their sockets suns shall blaze their last. Their fuel wasted, and extinct their light,

Both these compositions of Winthrop and Oliver were republished, with biographical notices, in Boston, in 1811, when the re-appearance of one of these heavenly bodies had created a new interest in the subject.

And worlds torn piecemeal by the final blast, Subside in chaos and eternal night,

He still shall shine

In youth divine,

And soaring on cherubic wing,
Shall like an ardent seraph blaze,
And in unceasing raptures, to his Maker's praise,
Eternal hallelujahs sing.

Professor Winthrop left a son, James Winthrop, who fought and was wounded at Bunker Hill, and became Judge of the Common Pleas. He was also a man of much literature and science, a good linguist, publishing, in 1794, An Attempt to translate part of the Apocalypse of St. John into familiar language, by divesting it of the metaphors in which it is involved, a second edition of which was printed in 1809. He wrote for a periodical, The Literary Miscellany, Dissertations on Primitive History and the Geography of the Old World, and several scientific papers. He was librarian at Harvard for fifteen years, dying at the age of 70, at Cambridge, in 1821. He bequeathed his valuable library to the college at Meadville, Pennsylvania.*

SAMUEL CURWEN.

SAMUEL CURWEN, a descendant from George Curchusetts, in 1638, was born in that place in 1715. wen, who settled in the town of Salem, MassaCompleting his course at Harvard in 1735, he commenced a preparation for the ministry, but was obliged to abandon his determination in consequence of ill health. Disappointment in a love affair led him to seek relief in a change of scene by a visit to England. On his return he engaged in business, and became a leading merchant. In 1744-5 he served as a captain in the attack upon Louisburg. In 1759 he was appointed Impost Officer for the county of Essex, and held the office for fifteen years. In June, 1774, on the departure of Governor Hutchinson for Europe, Mr. Curwen, who was then a Judge of Admiralty, joined with one hundred and nineteen citizens of the colony, in signing an address to that officer of a commendatory character. Many of these signers were afterwards stigmatized as "Addressers," and compelled to make a public recantation of the act. Mr. Curwen declined doing this, and having from the outset sided with Great Britain, resolved to withdraw from the country until public affairs resumed their former tranquillity. A few months would, he supposed, effect this, and he sailed from Philadelphia in May, 1775, with the expectation of making a correspondingly brief stay abroad. Mr. Curwen arrived at Dover, July 3, 1775. He immediately departed for London, where he passed several months, principally occupied in sight-seeing. In June, 1776, he writes, "I find my finances so visibly lessening, that I wish I could remove from this expensive country (being heartily tired of it). To beg is a meanness I wish never to be reduced to, and to starve is stupid." With a view to economy, and probably to gratify his taste for sight-seeing as well, we find him soon after leaving London to visit the great towns in search of a less costly place of residence. After a ramble about Eng

* Knapp, Am. Biog. 381.

children.

Your friend,

S. CURWE September 7 and 14, 1777, we find him attending

During his sojourn in England, he kept a familiar journal of his movements, occupations, and amusements, which was sent in detached pieces to his niece, and some sixty years afterwards, in 1842, published under the editorial care of her grandson. It is of great value in an historical point of view, displaying the condition of the refugees in England, their opinion of American affairs, and the action of Parliament during the war. It is also interesting for its pictures of London society and localities three quarters of a century ago. He falls in with Hutchinson almost as soon as he arrives, goes to hear Dr. Apthorpe preach, walks out with Parson Peters, takes tea with facetious Joseph Green, and afterwards pays a visit of condolence to his widow. He is an indefatigable sight-seer, keeps the run of the theatres, and does not despise the rope-dancers, follows the debates at the House of Commons, and looks in now and then at "the Ladies' Disputing Club, Cornhill." To the last, he takes a discouraging view of American independence, writing May 11, 1782, to Richard Ward at Salem, as follows:

DEAR SIR,

TO RICHARD WARD, ESQ., SALEM.

LONDON, May 11, 1782.

Should your great and good ally obtain the two only very probable objects of her American alliance, the impoverishment of Great Britain and the consequent seizure of the late English colonies, which she seems at present in a fair way for, no man on this side the Atlantic in his wits would, I think, whatever regard he may feel for his native country, willingly forego a bare subsistence here for French domination and wooden shoes there. I would just suggest to you, should America in this hour refuse the offers Great Britain may make of a separate peace; or France refuse to suffer her, (for we well know here the power she has acquired over her,) and no partition treaty take place, (being in the present situation the best to be expected,) depend upon it, you fathers of the present age will have it in their power, ere many revolutions of the sun, to tell their children the inestimable civil, religious and political privileges you of this generation have wantoned away, and with sad regret recount the happy condition of former days; nor will the comparison with those you will then mournfully experience between English protection and French oppression, fail to enhance your misery. You will then find the little finger of French power heavier than the loin of the English government, with all its apprehended train of evils. As a proof of my needless fears or right

* Journal and Letters of the late Samuel Curwen, Judge of Admiralty, etc., an American Refugee in England, from 1775 to 1784. comprising remarks on the prominent Men and Measures of the Period, to which are added Biographical Notices of many American Loyalists and other Eminent Persons By George Atkinson Ward. New York: C. S. Francis & Co.

JOHN WESLEY'S PREACHMENT.

In the afternoon, walked to a street adjoining King's square to attend John Wesley's preachment; he being seated on a decent scaffold, addressed about two thousand people, consisting of the middle and lower ranks. The preacher's language was plain and intelligible, without descending to vulgarisms. Sept. 14. In the afternoon I attended once more John Wesley, having the heavens for his canopy; he began with an extempore prayer, followed by a hymn of his own composing, and adapted to the subject of his discourse. He wears his own gray hair,

or a wig so very like that my eye could not distinguish. He is not a graceful speaker, his voice being weak and harsh; he is attended by great numbers of the middling and lower classes; is said to have humanized the almost savage colliers of Kingswood, who, before his time, were almost as fierce and unmanageable as the wild beasts of the wilderness. He wears an Oxford master's gown; his attention seemingly not directed to manner and behavior,— not rude, but negligent, dress cleanly, not neat. He is always visiting the numerous societies of his own forming in England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland; though near eighty years old, he reads without spectacles the smallest print. He rises at four, preaches every day at five, and once besides; an uncommon instance of physical ability.

September 17, 1780, he heard Samuel Peters preach at Lincoln's Inn Chapel. "He is an indifferent speaker and composer-how he got there is as difficult to conceive as straws in amber."

We group together a few of Mr. Curwen's numerous street notes and observations.

Sept. 23. Walking through Old Bailey, and seeing a great crowd, learnt that two pickpockets were to be whipped. Jack Ketch, a short sturdy man, soon appeared with the culprits, one after the other; the first seemed like an old offender, and was moderately lashed; the mob said he had bought off the minister of justice; he writhed but little. The other was young, distress painted strongly on his countenance; he cried loudly; his back seemed unused to stripes; from this time it will carry the marks of legal vengeance, and proofs of his folly and wickedGoing forward, passed through the Strand; and returned by way of Covent Garden to see election, which had been ended and poll closed for two hours; and the elected members, returning from the procession, were just entering James'-street, mounted on two arm chairs, placed on a board that was carried on eight men's shoulders, accompanied by thousands with tokens of victory: red and blue ribbons in their hats.

ness.

#

Sept. 29. As I was walking in Holborn, observed a throng of ordinary people crowding round a chaise filled with young children of about seven years of age; inquiring the reason, was informed they were young sinners who were accustomed to go about in the evening, purloining whatever they could lay their hands on, and were going to be consigned into the hands of justice. Great pity that so many children, capable of being trained to useful employments

Sept. 5. In walking through Parliament-street and seeing crowds running through Scotland-yard, joined them, and on inquiry found they were accompanying Parson Lloyd, a clergyman, returned from Bow-street Justices' examination to Westminster Bridewell, from whence he was taken this morning on a complaint of highway robbery; and it is said he is identified. He seemed hardened, and of a rough, bold cast, and begged with a careless boldness money of every well dressed person that passed as he was being conducted to prison in irons; his right hand being also chained to an officer's, or one of the justice's men.

April 7. Passed a crowd attending procession in Parliament-street, going to take the Westminster candidate, Charles J. Fox, from his lodgings to the hustings under St. Paul's, Covent Garden, portico. First marched musicians two and two, then four men supporting two red painted poles having on top the cap of liberty of a dark blue color; to each was fastened a light blue silk standard about nine feet long and five wide, having inscribed thereon in golden letters these words, "The Man of the People;" followed by the butchers with marrow-bones and cleavers; then the committee two and two, holding in their hands white wands; in the rear the carriages. They stopped at his house in St. James's-street, where taking him up, he accompanied them in Mr. Byng's carriage through Pall Mall and the Strand to the hustings, when the election proceeded; made without opposition, no competitor appearing against him.

Benjamin Church was born at Duxbury, Massachusetts, in 1639, and was the first settler of Seconet or Little Compton. "Being providentially at Plymouth," he informs us, "in 1674, in the time of the court, he fell into acquaintance with Captain John Aliny of Rhode Island," by whom he was invited to visit "that part of Plymouth Colony that lay next to Rhode Island, known then by their Indian names of Pocasset and Sogkonate." He did so, and purchased land, on which he settled.

The next spring, while "Mr. Church was diligently settling his new farm, stocking, leasing, and disposing of his affairs, and had a fine prospect of doing no small things; and hoping that

his good success would be inviting unto other good men to become his neighbours: Behold! the rumour of a war between the English and the natives, gave check to his projects." Hostilities soon commenced. A force was raised, and Church placed in command of an advanced guard. He was at the head of the party which killed King Philip, in August, 1676. He was afterwards, in September, 1689, made commander-in-chief of an expedition against the French and Indians at Casco, and again employed in a similar service in 1690, and with Governor Phipps, in 1692. After the burning of Deerfield, in 1704, he rode seventy miles to offer his services against the Indians, whom he harassed greatly at Penobscot and Passamaquoddy.

After Philip's war, Colonel Church resided at Bristol, then at Fall River, and lastly at Seconet, "at each of which places he acquired and left a large estate." He maintained throughout his life the reputation of an upright and devout, as well as brave man. He married Mrs. Alice Southworth, by whom he had a daughter and five sons, and died on the seventeenth of January, 1718, in consequence of a fall from his horse, by which a blood-vessel was broken. The first edition of The Entertaining History of King Philip's War, which began in the month of June, 1675, as also of Expeditions more lately made against the Common Enemy, and Indian Rebels, in the Eastern parts of New England: with some account of the Divine Providence towards Col. Benjamin Church by Thomas Church, Esq., his son, was published in Boston in 1716. A second edition appeared at Newport in 1772, and a third and fourth, with notes by Samuel G. Drake, in 1825 and 1829.*

A SCUFFLE.

Mr. Church was moved with other wounded men, over to Rhodeisland, where in about three months' time, he was in some good measure recovered of his wounds, and the fever that attended them; and then went over to the General to take his leave of him, with a design to return home. But the General's great importunity again persuaded him to accompany him in a long march into the Nipmuck country, though he had then tents in his wounds, and so lame as not to be able to mount his horse without two men's assistance.

In this march, the first thing remarkable was, they came to an Indian town, where there were many wigwams in sight, but an icy swamp, lying between them and the wigwams, prevented their running at once upon it as they intended. There was much

*Mr. Drake reprinted, in an 18mo. volume, in 1833: The Present State of New England, with respect to the Indian War. Wherein is an account of the true Reason thereof, (as far as can be judged by Men,) together with most of the Remarkable Passages that have happened from the 20th of June till the 10th of November, 1675. Faithfully composed by a merchant of Boston, and communicated to his friends in London. London, 1675.

A continuation of the foregoing, from the 10th of November, 1675, to the 8th of February, 1675-6. London, 1676.

A new and further narrative, from March till August, 1676 London, 1676. The Warr in New England visibly ended. London, 1677.

A true account of the most considerable occurrences that have happened in the war between the English and the Indians, in New England, from the fifth of May, 1676, to the fourth of August last. London, 1676.

He considers it highly probable that these five tracts, with Church's Narrative, comprise all that can be recovered in relation to King Philip's war.

firing upon each side before they passed the swamp. But at length the enemy all fled, and a certain Mohegan, that was a friend Indian, pursued and seized one of the enemy that had a small wound in his leg, and brought him before the General, where he was examined. Some were for torturing him to bring him to a more ample confession of what he knew concerning his countrymen. Mr. Church, verily believing that he had been ingenuous in his confession, interceded, and prevailed for his escaping torture. But the army being bound forward in their march, and the Indian's wound somewhat disenabling him for travelling, it was concluded that he should be knocked on the head. Accordingly he was brought before a great fire, and the Mohegan that took him was allowed, as he desired, to be his executioner. Mr. Church taking no delight in the sport, framed an errand at some distance among the baggage horses, and when he had got ten rods, or thereabouts, from the fire, the executioner fetching a blow with a hatchet at the head of the prisoner, he being aware of the blow, dodged his head aside, and the executioner missing his stroke, the hatchet flew out of his hand, and had like to have done execution where it was not designed. The prisoner upon his narrow escape, broke from them that held him, and notwithstanding his wound, made use of his legs, and happened to run right upon Mr. Church, who laid hold on him, and a close scuffle they had; but the Indian having no clothes on, slipped from him and ran again, and Mr. Church pursued him, although being lame there was no great odds in the race, until the Indian stumbled and fell, and then they closed again-scuffled and fought pretty smartly, until the Indian, by the advantage of his nakedness, slipped from his hold again, and set out on his third race, with Mr. Church close at his heels, endeavouring to lay hold on the hair of his head, which was all the hold could be taken of him. And running through a swamp that was covered with hollow ice, it made so loud a noise that Mr. Church expected (but in vain) that some of his English friends would follow the noise and come to his assistance. But the Indian happened to run athwart a large tree that lay fallen near breast high, where he stopped and cried out aloud for help. But Mr. Church being soon upon him again, the Indian seized him fast by the hair of his head, and endeavoured by twisting to break his neck. But though Mr. Church's wounds had somewhat weakened him, and the Indian a stout fellow, yet he held him in play and twisted the Indian's neck as well, and took the advantage of many opportunities, while they hung by each other's hair, gave him notorious bunts in the face with his head. But in the heat of the scuffle they heard the ice break, with somebody's coming apace to them, which when they heard, Church concluded there was help for one or other of them, but was doubtful which of them must now receive the fatal stroke-anon somebody comes up to them, who proved to be the Indian that had first taken the prisoner; and without speaking a word, he felt them out, (for it was so dark he could not distinguish them by sight, the one being clothed and the other naked) he felt where Mr. Church's hands were fastened in the Netop's hair and with one blow settled his hatchet in between them, and thus ended the strife. He then spoke to Mr. Church and hugged him in his arms, and thanked him abundantly for catching his prisoner. He then cut off the head of his victim and carried it to the camp, and after giving an account to the rest of the friend Indians in the camp how Mr. Church had seized his prisoner, &c., they all joined in a mighty

shout.

DEATH OF KING PHILIP.

Captain Church being now at Plymouth again, weary and worn, would have gone home to his wife and family, but the government being solicitous to engage him in the service until Philip was slain; and promising him satisfaction and redress for some mistreatment that he had met with, he fixes for another expedition.

He had soon volunteers enough to make up the company he desired, and marched through the woods until he came to Pocasset. And not seeing or hearing of any of the enemy, they went over the ferry to Rhodeisland, to refresh themselves. The Captain, with about half a dozen in his company, took horses and rode about eight miles down the island, to Mr. Sanford's, where he had left his wife. She no sooner saw him, but fainted with surprise; and by that time she was a little revived, they spied two horsemen coming a great pace. Captain Church told his company, that "Those men (by their riding) come with tidings." When they came up, they proved to be Major Sanford, and Captain Golding. They immediately asked Captain Church, what he would give to hear some news of Philip? He replied, that that was what he wanted. They told him, that they had rode hard with some hopes of overtaking him, and were now come on purpose to inform him, that there were just now tidings from Mounthope. An Indian came down from thence (where Philip's camp now was) to Sandy point, over against Trip's, and hallooed, and made signs to be fetched over. And being fetched over, he reported, that he was fled from Philip, "who (said he) has killed my brother just before I came away, for giving some advice that displeased him." And said, that he was fled for fear of meeting with the same his brother had met with. Told them also, that Philip was now in Mounthope neck. Captain Church thanked them for their good news, and said, that he hoped by to-morrow morning to have the rogue's head. The horses that he and his company came on standing at the door, (for they had not been unsaddled) his wife must content herself with a short visit, when such game was ahead. They immediately mounted, set spurs to their horses, and away.

The two gentlemen that brought him the tidings, told him, that they would gladly wait upon him to see the event of the expedition. He thanked them, and told them, that he should be as fond of their company as any men's; and (in short) they went with him. And they were soon at Trip's ferry, (with Captain Church's company) where the deserter was. He was a fellow of good sense, and told his story handsomely. He offered Captain Church, to pilot him to Philip, and to help to kill him, that he might revenge his brother's death. Told him, that Philip was now upon a little spot of upland, that was in the south end of the miry swamp, just at the foot of the mount, which was a spot of ground that Captain Church was well acquainted with.

By that time they were over the ferry, and came near the ground, half the night was spent. The Captain commands a halt, and bringing the company together, he asked Major Sanford's and Captain Golding's advice, what method it was best to take in making the onset; but they declined giving him any advice; telling him, that his great experience and success forbid their taking upon them to give advice. Then Captain Church offered Captain Golding the honour (if he would please accept of it) to beat up Philip's headquarters. He accepted the offer and had his allotted number drawn out to him, and the pilot. Captain Church's instructions to him were, to be very careful in his approach to the enemy, and be sure not to show himself, until by daylight they

might see and discern their own men from the enemy; told him also, that his custom in like cases, was, to creep with his company, on their bellies, until they came as near as they could; and that as soon as the enemy discovered them, they would cry out, and that was the word for his men to fire and fall on. He directed him, that when the enemy should start and take into the swamp, that they should pursue with speed; every man shouting and making what noise he could; for he would give orders to his ambuscade to fire on any that should come silently.

Captain Church knowing that it was Philip's custom to be foremost in the flight, went down to the swamp, and gave Captain Williams of Scituate the command of the right wing of the ambush, and placed an Englishman and an Indian together behind such shelters of trees, &c., as he could find, and took care to place them at such distance, that none might pass undiscovered between them; charged them to be careful of themselves, and of hurting their friends, and to fire at any that should come silently through the swamp. But it being somewhat farther through the swamp than he was aware of, he wanted men to make up his ambuscade.

Having placed what men he had, he took Major Sanford by the hand, and said, "Sir, I have so placed them that it is scarce possible Philip should escape them." The same moment a shot whistled over their heads, and then the noise of a gun towards Philip's camp. Captain Church, at first, thought that it might be some gun fired by accident; but before he could speak, a whole volley followed, which was earlier than he expected. One of Philip's gang going forth to ease himself, when he had done, looked round him, and Captain Golding thought that the Indian looked right at him, (though probably it was but his conceit) so fired at him; and upon his firing, the whole company that were with him fired upon the enemy's shelter, before the Indians had time to rise from their sleep, and so over shot them. But their shelter was open on that side next the swamp, built so on purpose for the convenience of flight on occasion. They were soon in the swamp, and Philip the foremost, who starting at the first gun, threw his petunk and powderhorn over his head, catched up his gun, and ran as fast as he could scamper, without any more clothes than his small breeches and stockings; and ran directly on two of Captain Church's ambush. They let him come fair within shot, and the Englishman's gun missing fire, he bid the Indian fire away, and he did so to the purpose; sent one musket bullet through his heart, and another not above two inches from it. He fell upon his face in the mud and water, with his gun under him.

By this time the enemy perceived that they were waylaid on the east side of the swamp, and tacked short about. One of the enemy, who seemed to be a great, surly old fellow, hallooed with a loud voice, and often called out, “Iootash, lootash.”" Captain Church called to his Indian, Peter, and asked him, who that was that called so? He answered, that it was old Annawon, Philip's great Captain; calling on his soldiers to stand to it, and fight stoutly. Now the enemy finding that place of the swamp which was not ambushed, many of them made their escape in the English tracks.

The man that had shot down Philip, ran with all speed to Captain Church, and informed him of his exploit, who commanded him to be silent about it and let no man more know it, until they had driven the swamp clean. But when they had driven the swamp through, and found that the enemy had escaped, or at least, the most of them, and the sun

now up, and so the dew gone, that they could not easily track them, the whole company met together at the place where the enemy's night shelter was, and then Captain Church gave them the news of Philip's death. Upon which the whole army gave three loud huzzas.

Captain Church ordered his body to be pulled out of the mire to the upland. So some of Captain Church's Indians took hold of him by his stockings, and some by his small breeches (being otherwise naked) and drew him through the mud to the upland; and a doleful, great, naked, dirty beast he looked like. Captain Church then said, that forasmuch as he had caused many an Englishman's body to be unburied, and to rot above ground, that not one of his bones should be buried. And calling his old Indian executioner, bid him behead and quarter him.

DAVID BRAINERD.

DAVID BRAINERD, the missionary to the Indians, was born at Haddam, Conn., April 20, 1718. He lost his father, a member of the council of the colony, when he was but nine years old, and his mother five years after. He early displayed a deep sense of religious obligation, combined with

David Freived

great dread of future punishment. He dates his partial relief from the terrible fears which tormented his existence, from the night of July 12, 1739; but he was throughout life subject to fits of deep despondency.

In September of the same year, he entered Yale College, where he devoted himself so carnestly to his studies that his feeble frame broke down under his labor. His life was for some weeks despaired of, but after a long interval of rest, he was enabled to resume his studies in the autumn. Not content with his bodily sufferings, his journal shows that he reproached himself severely for a sinful ambition to stand high as a scholar.

About this time, Whitefield visited New England. An excitable temperament like Brainerd's was one likely to be affected by the system which he introduced. A powerful religious excitement spread through the college, which was discountenanced by its heads. Brainerd was overheard to say that one of the tutors "had no more grace than a chair;" and was, for this slight offence, expelled from the college. He afterwards acknowledged his fault of hasty speech, but always felt the unjust severity with which he had been treated.

Ile immediately commenced the study of divinity, and in the summer of the same year received a license to preach from the association of ministers at Danbury. His ardent desire was to become a missionary among the Indians, and he commenced his labors among a small and wretched community of that race at Kent, on the borders of Connecticut. In November he received an invitation from the Correspondents, at New York, of the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge-an association formed in Scotland-to become their missionary to the Indians. He accepted the appointment, after