have him conveyed safe to New York. But no arguments, no entreaties could prevail with him to

leave his deliverer. "To you," said he, "I owe my life; to you and in your service let me devote it. You have found me in circumstances of ignominy; I wish for an opportunity to convince you that you have not been mistaken in thinking me innocent. I am, and you shall find me, a good soldier." It was to this fatal but fixed determination that he soon after owed the loss of his life.

When he was brought to the place of execution, the persons who had charge of him told him they had authority to promise him a reprieve; and they did most solemnly promise it to him, on condition only that he would tell them who the loyalists in the country were, that had assisted Moody. His reply was most manly and noble; and proves that real nobility and diguity of sentiment are appropriated to no particular rank or condition of life. "I love life," he said, “and there is nothing which a man of honor can do, that I would not do to save it; but I cannot pay this price for it. The men you wish me to betray must be good men, because they have assisted a good man in a good cause. Innocent as I am, I feel this an awful moment. How far it becomes you to tempt me to make it terrible, by overwhelming me in the basest guilt, your selves must judge. My life is in your power; my conscience, I thank God, is still my own."

Another extraordinary circumstance is said to have befallen him, which, as well as the preceding, Mr. Moody relates, on the testimony of an eye-wit ness, yet living. Though he was a small and light man, yet the rope with which he was suspended broke. Even still this poor man's admirable preɛence of mind and dignity of conscious innocence did not forsake him. He instantly addressed himself to the surrounding multitude, in the following words: "Gentlemen, I cannot but hope that this very extraordinary event will convince you of what I again solemnly protest to you, that I am innocent of the crime for which you have adjudged me to die." But he still protested in vain.

The supposed crime for which he suffered was, the plundering and robbing the house of a certain furious and powerful rebel. But it would be unjust to his memory not to certify, as Mr. Moody does, that he has since learned, from the voluntary confession of a less conscientious loyalist, that this honest man was charged wrongfully, inasmuch as he himself, without the knowledge of the other, on the principles of retaliation and revenge, had committed the crime. The name of the above-mentioned honest soldier and martyr was Robert Maxwell, a Scotsman, who had had a good education.

He made a famous attempt to secure the person of Gov. Livingston, of New Jersey, in which he failed from information given by one of his comrades. His favorite exploit was to cut off the American despatches, which he frequently brought into New York. He was taken and imprisoned at West Point, where he found General Arnold a rigorous jailor. Writing some time after Arnold's treason, he naively says, “Under new masters, it is hoped, General Arnold has learned new maxims. Compelled by truth, however, Mr. Moody must bear him testimony, that he was then faithful to his employers, and abated not an iota in fulfilling both the letter and the spirit of their general orders and instructions." His subsequent escape is thus told :—

The ways of Providence are often mysterious,

frequently bringing about its ends by the most unlikely means. To this inhuman treatment in General Arnold's camp, Mr. Moody owed his future safety. On the 1st of September, he was carried to Washington's camp, and there confined near their Liberty pole. Colonel Skammel, the Adjutant General, came to see him put in irons. When they had handcuffed him, he remonstrated with the Colonel, desiring that his legs, which were indeed in a worse situation than even his wrists, might be examined; farther adding only, that death would be infinitely preferable to a repetition of the torments he had just undergone. The Colonel did examine his legs; and on seeing them, he also acknowledged that his treatment had indeed been too bad; and asked if General Arnold had been made acquainted with his situation. Mr. Moody feels a sincere pleasure in thus publicly acknowledging his obligations and his gratitude to Colonel Skammel, who humanely gave orders to the Provost Marshal to take good care of him, and by no means to suffer any irons to be put on his legs, till they were likely to prove less distressing.

Mr. Moody attended the rebel army in its march over the New Bridge; and had an opportunity of observing their whole line, and counting their artillery. Everything seemed smooth and fair; and le felt himself much at ease, in the prospect of being soon exchanged; when, very unexpectedly, he was visited by an old acquaintance, one of their Colonels, who informed him that he was in two days' time to be brought to trial; that Livingston was to be his prosecutor, and that the Court Martial was carefully picked for the purpose. He subjoined that he would do well to prepare for eternity, since, from the evidence which he knew would be produced, there was but one issue of the business to be expected. Mr. Moody requested to be informed, what it was the purpose of this evidence to prove? It was, his well-wisher told him, that he had assassi nated a Captain Shaddock and a Lieutenant Hendrickson. These were the two officers who had fallen fairly in battle near Black Point, as lins been already related. The Ensign replied, that he felt himself much at ease on that account, as it could be sufficiently cleared up by their own people, who had been in, and had survived the action, as well as by some of their officers, who were at the time prisoners to him, and spectators of the whole affair. “All this," said his friend, "will be of little avail; you are so obnoxious; you have been, and are likely to be, so mischievous to us, that, be assured, we are resolved to get rid of you at any rate. Besides, you cannot deny, and it can be proved by incontes table evidence, that you have enlisted men, in this state, for the King's service, and this, by our laws, is death."

Ensign Moody affected an air of unconcern at this information; but it was too serious and important to him to be really disregarded; he resolved, therefore, from that moment, to effect his escape, or to perish in the attempt.

Every precaution had been taken to secure the place in which he was confined. It was nearly in the centre of the rebel camp. A sentinel was placed within the door of his prison, and another without, besides four others close round, and within a few yards of the place. The time now came on when he must either make his escape, or lose the oppor tunity forever. On the night, therefore, of the 17th of September, busy in ruminating on his project, he had, on the pretence of being cold, got a watch-coat thrown across his shoulders, that he might better conceal, from his unpleasant companion, the operations which he meditated against his handcuffe

While he was racking his invention, to find some possible means of extricating himself from his fetters, he providentially cast his eye on a post fastened in the ground, through which an hole had been bored with an auger; and it occurred to him that it might be possible, with the aid of this hole, to break the bolt of his handcuffs. Watching the opportunity, therefore, from time to time, of the sentinel's looking another way, he thrust the point of the bolt into the above-mentioned hole, and by cautiously exerting his strength, and gradually beading the iron backwards and forwards, he at length broke it. Let the reader imagine what his sensations were, when he found the manacles drop from his hands! He sprung instantly past the interior sentinel, and rushing on the next, with one hand he seized his musket, and with the other struck him to the ground. The sentinel within, and the four others who were placed by the fence surrounding the place of his confinement, immediately gave the alarm; and in a moment the ery was general-" Moody is escaped from the Provost." It is impossible to describe the uproar which now took place throughout the whole camp. In a few minutes every man was in a bustle; every man was looking for Moody, and multitudes passed him on all sides, little suspecting that a man whom they saw deliberately marching along, with a mu-ket on his shoulder, could be the fugitive they were in quest of. The darkness of the night, which was also blustering and drizzly, prevented any discrimination of his person, and was indeed the great circumstance that rendered his escape possible.

But no small difficulty still remained to be sur mounted. To prevent desertion, Washington had surrounded his camp with a chain of sentinels, posted at about forty or fifty yards' distance from each other; he was unacquainted with their stations; to pass them undiscovered was next to impossible; and to be discovered would certainly be fatal. In this dilemma Providence again befriended him. He had gained their station without knowing it, when luckily he heard the watchword passed from one to another "Look sharp to the chain: Moody is escaped from the Provost." From the sound of the voices he ascertaine the respective situations of these sentinels; and throwing himself on his hands and knees, he was happy enough to crawl through the vacant space between two of them, unseen by either. Judging that their line of pursuit would naturally be towards the British army, he made a detour into the woods on the opposite side. Through these woods he made as much speed as the darkness of the night would permit, steering his course, after the Indian manner, by occasionally groping and feeling the white oak. On the south side the bark of this tree is rough and unpleasant to the touch, but on the north sile it is smooth; hence it serves the sagacious traverser of the desert, by night as well as by day, for his compass. Through the most dismal woods and swamps he continued to wander till the night of the 21st, a space of more than fiftysix hours, during which time he had no other sustenance than a few beeh leaves (which, of all that the woods afforded, were the least unpleasant to the taste, and least pernicious to health), which he chew. ed and swallowed, to abate the intolerable cravings of his hunger.

lance: and, at length, by God's blessing, to his unspeakable joy he arrived safe at Paulus Hook.

Moody went to England, at the close of the war, with recommendations to Government from Sir Henry Clinton, and afterwards settled on his half pay in Nova Scotia, where he died at Sissibou, in 1809, at the age of sixty-five.*

JOSIAH QUINCY, JR.

EDMUND, the first of the name of Quincy, in New England, landed at Boston with John Cotton, the eminent divine, in September, 1633. We hear in 1635 of a grant of land on Mount Wollaston to him by the town, and soon after of his death, at the age of thirty-three. His only son, Edmund, born in England in 1627, who lived on the lands at Mount Wollaston, afterwards called Braintree, was a country magistrate, and died in 1697. He had two sons, Daniel and Edmund, both of whom died before him. Daniel left a son John, born in 1689, who served for forty years as a representa tive of his district in the Provincial Legislature, and as a member of the Executive Council, and died a day after the birth of his great-grandson, John Quincy Adams.

Josiah, Dainey in 3

The youngest son of Daniel's brother, Edmund, was born in 1681, and died at London in 1738, while engaged as the agent of the colony in pressing her claims in the dispute as to the boundary between her territory and that of New Hamp shire. During the latter part of his life he filled the office of Judge of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts. Josiah, the youngest of his two sons, was born in 1709, and in 1755 appointed by Governor Shirley to negotiate with New York and Pennsylvania for the establishment of the frontier post of Ticonderoga. He executed other impor tant public trusts, and died in 1784. His youngest son, Josiah Quincy, Jr., was born at Boston, Feb. 22, 1744, and educated at the school of Mr. Joseph Marsh in Braintree. He entered Harvard in 1759, and was a hard student, not only of the Greek and Latin but also of the English classics. A closely written manuscript of seventy pages quarto, filled with extracts from Shakespeare, is still extant with the date 1762. On taking his Master's degree in 1766, he delivered an English oration on Patriotism, a fitting coinmencement of his public career. He had previously to this, in 1763, commenced the study of law with the distinguished Oxenbridge Thacher of Boston. Ile succeeded, on the death of his instructor, in July, 1765, to the care of the office, and on his admis sion to the bar, to a large practice. A number of MS. volumes of Reports from his hand at this time proves his industry and enthusiasm in his profession. He is said to have been the first

Sabine's Biographical Sketches of American Loyalista, P

In defence of our civil and religious rights, we dare oppose the world; with the God of arinies on our side, even the God who fought our fathers' battles, we fear not the hour of trial, though the hosts of our enemies should cover the field like locusts. If this be enthusiasm, we will live and die enthu siasts.

Blandishments will not fascinate us, nor will threats of a "halter" intimidate. For under God, we are determined, that wheresoever, whensoever, or howsoever, we shall be called to make our exit, we will die freemen. Well do we know that all the regalia of this world cannot dignify the death of a villain, nor diminish the ignominy, with which a slave shall quit his existence. Neither ean it taint the unblemished honor of a son of freedom, though he should make his departure on the already prepared gibbet, or be dragged to the newly erected scatold for execution. With the plaudits of his conscience he will go off the stage. A crown of joy and immortality shall be his reward. The history of his life his children shall venerate. The virtues of their sire shall excite their emulation.

He followed these by others of a similar character during the next year. The landing of troops in October called forth a vigorous appeal.

Oh, my countrymen! what will our children say, when they read the history of these times, should they find we tamely gave away, without one noble struggle, the most invaluable of earthly blessings? As they drag the galling chain, will they not execrate us? If we have any respect for things sacred; any regard to the dearest treasure on carth;--if we have one tender sentiment for posterity; if we would not be despised by the whole world;-let us, in the most open, solemin manner, and with determined fortitude, swear,—we will die,—if we cannot live freemen!

Be not lulled, my countrymen, with vain imaginations or idle fancies. To hope for the protection of Heaven, without doing our duty, and exerting ourselves as becomes men, is to mock the Deity. Wherefore had man his reason, if it were not to direct him? Wherefore his strength, if it be not his protection To banish folly and luxury, correct vice and immorality, and stand immovable in the freedom, in which we are free indeed, is eminently the duty of each individual, at this day. When this is done, we may rationally hope for an answer to our prayers; for the whole counsel of God, and the invincible armour of the Almighty.

However righteous our cause, we cannot, in this period of the world, expect a miraculous salvation. Heaven will undoubtedly assist us, if we act like men; but to expect protection from above, while we are enervated by luxury, and slothful in the exertion of those abilities with which we are endued, is an expectation vain and foolish. With the smiles of Heaven, virtue, unanimity, and firmness will insure success. While we have equity, justice, and God on our side, Tyranny, spiritual or temporal, shall never ride triumphant in a land inhabited by Englishmen.

Ilis increasing practice prevented him from su

pervising the printing of these essays, but an inscription on one of his MSS., "Let Samuel Adams, Esq., correct the press," shows that this duty also was in patriot hands. In October, 1769, he married a daughter of William Phillips, a Boston merchant, who afterwards rendered liberal financial assistance to the great cause. He still continued his communications under various signatures, and on the 12th of February, 1770, said in one of these-

From a conviction in my own mind, that America is now the slave of Britain; from a sense that we are every day more and more in danger of an increase of our burdens, and a fastening of our shackles, I wish to see my countrymen break off,--off for ever! -all social intercourse with those, whose commerce contaminates, whose luxuries poison, whose avarice is insatiable, and whose unnatural oppressions are not to be borne. That Americans will know their rights, that they will resume, assert, and defend them, are matters of which I harbour no doubt. Whether the arts of policy, or the arts of war, will decide the contest, are problems, we will solve at a more convenient season. He, whose heart is enamoured with the refinements of political artifice and finesse, will seek one mode of relief; he whose heart is free, honest, and intrepid, will pursue another, a bolder, and more noble mode of redress, This reply is so intelligible, that it needs no comment or explanation.

The Boston Massacre occurred on the fifth of March following, and Quincy, to his surprise, was chosen by Colonel Preston, the English commander, as his counsel. He accepted and discharged the duty with his colleague, John Adams, notwithstanding the opposition of his friends and the censure of an excited public opinion. That opinion has long since justified a prediction contained in a letter to his father, explanatory of his

course.

I dare affirm, that you and this whole people will one day REJOICE, that I became an advocate for the aforesaid "criminals," charged with the murder of our fellow-citizens.

I never harboured the expectation, nor any great desire, that all men should speak well of me. To inquire my duty, and to do it, is my aim. Being mortal, I am subject to error; and conscious of this, I wish to be diffident. Being a rational creature, I judge for myself, according to the light afforded me. When a plan of conduct is formed with an honest deliberation, neither murmuring, lander, nor reproaches move. For my single self, I consider, judge, and with reason hope to be immutable.

There are honest men in all sects,-I wish their approbation;-there are wicked bigots in all parties,-I abhor them:

Preston was defended and acquitted, but the opinions of his counsel remained unchanged on the political bearing of the act. In a communication published February 11, 1771, he laments “hearing so little discourse relative to a decent, manly, and instructive commemoration of the melancholy tragedy of the fifth of March, 1770." An oversight which was speedily corrected, the "Boston Massacre Orations" having been commenced on the first anniversary of that event, and continued for several years.

At the close of 1772, symptoms of pulmonary discase having begun to develope theinselves in

consequence of Mr. Quincy's intense application to business, he sought relief in a voyage to Charleston. He returned by land, and his jour nal, containing a curious though brief sketch of the places he visited, is printed in his life by his

son.

He returned in May with improved health. During the next month the celebrated letters of Hutchinson and others were discovered and transmitted to the colonies by Franklin. Soon after their publication Quincy wrote a series of papers with the signature of Marchmont Needham, one of which contains this passage:

If to appear for my country is treason, and to arm for her defence is rebellion,-like my fathers, I will glory in the name of rebel and traitor,- -as they did in that of puritan and enthusiast.

In May, 1774, he published a political pamphlet, Observations on the act of Parliament, commonly called "The Boston Port Bill," with Thoughts on Civil Society and Standing Armies. It is sound and forcible in its reasoning, and contains passages of much eloquence.

In September, 1774, Mr. Quincy sailed for England, with the double hope of reinvigorating his constitution and effecting something for the benefit of his country with the home government. He became acquainted in London with Lord North and other leading statesmen of both parties, and also with Franklin. Of the last he writes, November 27, 1774—

Be careful what parts of this letter you publish; without absolute necessity, do not publish any. Dr. Franklin and others complain much of their letters being made public. It is a fear of that, that prevents him and many more from writing to you.

Dr. Franklin is an American in heart and soul. You may trust him; his ideas are not contracted within the narrow limits of exemption from taxes, but are extended upon the broad scale of total emancipation. He is explicit and bold upon the subject, and his hopes are as sanguine as my own, of the triumph of liberty in America.

His correspondence soon bears witness to the hopelessness of negotiation, and the necessity of firmness and resolution on the part of America. He continued to reside in London, attending the American debates in Parliament, visiting, and now and then going to see Garrick, but without improvement to his health. On the 16th of March, 1775, he sailed for Boston. When not more than three days at sea, he dictated to a seaman a farewell latter to his friends at home, anticipating that he should not live through the voyage. In it he says:

Foreseeing that there will be many inexplicable circumstances in the way of my friends, to account for many things relating to my conduct, I should have been glad, if God had spared my life, to con verse with them once more. But this, his holy Providence seems fully settled to deny. Some few matters I have prevailed with a friend on board to minute for their information.

My going to America at this time was very considerably against my inclinations, especially as Doctor Fothergill was of opinion that Bristol waters would be of great advantage to me. But he did not dissuade me from going to America, but advised it very strongly in preference to my staying in London, or its environs,

The most weighty motive of all that determined my conduct, was the extreme urgency of about fifteen or twenty most staunch friends to America, and many of them the most learned and respectable characters in the kingdom, for my immediately proceeding to Boston. Their sentiments what ought to be the conduct of Boston, and of the continent, at this, and the approaching season, I had heard very often in the social circle; and in what things they differed I perfectly knew. It appeared of high importance that the sentiments of such persons should be known in America. To commit their sentiments to writing, was neither practicable nor prudent at this time. To the bosom of a friend they could intrust what might be of great advantage to my country. To me that trust was committed, and I was, immediately upon my arrival, to assemble certain persons, to whom I was to communicate my trust, and hal God spared my life, it seems it would have been of great service to my country.

Ever since I have been out, almost everything has been different from what I expected. Instead of pleasant weather, the most inclement and damp, which removes me entirely from the deck, and when I was flattered with the hope of getting into port six days ago, I am yet here, as distant from it as when the encouragement was given me. Had Providence been pleased that I should have reached America six days ago, I should have been able to converse with my friends. I am persuaded that this voyage and passage are the instruments to put an end to my being. His holy-will be done!

He grew weaker and weaker, and on the twenty-sixth of April, within sight of land, and almost within hearing of the news of the batile of Lexington, expired "in solitude, amidst suffering, without associate, and without witness; yet breathing forth a dying wish for his country, desiring to live only to perform towards her a last and signal service."* His remains were brought into port in the ship at Gloucester, and the siege of Boston having dispersed his relatives and friends, were buried there by kind but strange hands. As soon as the district was sufficiently tranquil, they were removed by his aged father to the burial-ground at Braintree. A monument was raised over his resting-place after his widow had been, in 1798, placed beside him, with an inscription by John Quincy Adams, closing with these well-turned lines:

abstracts of the sermons at the Old South Church; and from his entrance at Harvard, at fifteen, kept, through his life, series of interleaved annotated almanacs, a favorite mode of diary of the Eastern clergyman, of which some curious specimens are preserved. He had, too, his manuscript books, Quotidiana Miscellanea, &c., for extracts from the authors he read. The first entry on the first page of these is significant of his tastes thus early forming, from Eckard's Roman History:"there are required so many qualifications and accomplishments in an historian, and so much care and niceness in writing an history, that some have reckoned it one of the most difficult labors hunan nature is capable of." He left Harvard with the class of 1762, and became, like so many others, a schoolmaster. After four years in this employment, and when he had fully established his resolution, he was ordained as a preacher. He married Ruth Eliot, of Boston, and became pastor of the church in Dover, New Hampshire, in 1767, where he passed twenty years. His historical tastes soon developed themselves; but they were somewhat interrupted by the opening scenes of the Revolution, in which Belknap bore the part of a good Whig, counselling the people by his pen. He was chosen chaplain to the troops of New Hampshire at Cambridge, but declined the appointment. In 1787 he left Dover for the charge of the Federal Street Church in Boston, a position which he held till his death, caused suddenly by paralysis, June 20, 1798. He had hinself in some lines of poetry, found among his papers, invoked a speedy departure.

When faith and patience, hope and love,
Have made us meet for heaven above,
How blest the privilege to rise
Snatched in a moment to the skies!
Unconscious, to resign our breath,
Nor taste the bitterness of death.
Such be my lot, Lord, if thou please,
To die in silence and at case.
When thou dost know that I'm prepared,
O seize me quick to my reward."
But if thy wisdom sees it best
To turn thine ear from this request-
If sickness be the appointed way,
To waste this frame of human clay;
If, worn with grief and racked with pain,
This earth must turn to earth again;
Then let thine angels round me stand-
Support me by thy powerful hand;
Let not my faith or patience move,
Nor aught abate my hope or love;
But brighter may my graces shine,
Till they're absorbed in light divine.

His distinct historical labors commenced with his residence in New Hampshire, where he engaged in the study and preparation of manuscripts, using great diligence in his pioneer work. Before the Revolution, Belknap had studied his subject in the steeple of the Old South Church, among the books collected by his pastor, Mr. Prince. In the preface to his first volume, Belknap suggests a public repository for MSS., under proper regulations. This first volume of his History of New Hampshire appeared at Philadelphia in 1784, under the superintendence of Ebenezer Hazard, the Postmaster-General, and compiler of the State Papers. The second appeared at Bos

ton in 1791, and the third in the same city, in the following year. To assist him in the work, which at the time of the publication of the last volume had fallen short of the actual expenses, the Legislature of New Hampshire granted him fifty pounds. Its merits at the present day would secure it a better reception. The first volume comprehends the events of one complete century, from the discovery of the river Pascataqua; the second, seventy-five years, from 1715; the third is occupied with a geographical description of the state; with sketches of its natural history, productions, improvements, and present state of society and manners, laws and government.

The candor and agreeable style of this work are no less remarkable than its historical tact and fidelity. It has long ranked at the head of the local state histories of the country. The author had everything to acquire and arrange. He overcame these difficulties, and seized his subject with the grasp of an earnest thinker and accomplished writer. The interesting chapters in the third volume on physical geography and natural history show that he took no narrow view of the relations of his subject.

On the completion of this work, an editor of a newspaper in Keene, N.H., made the modest announcement to his readers that "to render his paper as useful and entertaining as possible, he proposed to cominence upon the Rev. Mr. Belknap's late History of New Hampshire, and continue a small part of the same weekly. As every member of the community is equally interested in this much-approved History, the editor flatters himself that the above attempt to please will meet with the approbation of his generous patrons. This information is given to accommodate those who have a desire of becoming subscribers for the Cheshire Advertiser, that they may apply in season, and not be disappointed of the first part of this valuable History." To which cool proposition, when the author was informed of it by his friend, Isaiah Thomas, he replied: "As I am particularly interested in the success of that literary adventure, I beg you would set me down as a subscriber for the Cheshire Advertiser for one year, to commence from the first portion of the said History which you may reprint, and send the papers to ine regularly by the post. If you are desirous of reprinting the certificate from the Clerk of the Federal Court, which secures the copyright of the said History to me and my heirs, agreeably to the laws of the United States, be so good as to let me know it, and I will send you an authenticated copy."

In 1790, Belknap projected the Massachusetts Historical Society, which became long since an established precedent for similar organizations throughout the country. At the request of this body he delivered, Oct. 23, 1792, a centennial Discourse intended to commemorate the Discovery of America by Christopher Columbus, on the completion of the third century since that event. Four dissertations are added on points raised by the address. The whole is well filled with ingenious philosophical suggestions,

In the same year with this address appeared in successive numbers of the Columbian Magazine, a production entitled The Foresters, an American tale, being a sequel to the history of John Bull