"History of Lynn, Essex County, Massachusetts: Including Lynnfield, Saugus, Swampscott, and Nahant"
by Alonzo Lewis, James R. Newhall

Transcribed and submitted
by Shaun Cook

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Chapter I

Part 1, pgs. 9 - 55 Part 2, pgs. 56 - 110

General Remarks, page 9- Early Voyages and Discoveries, 25- Nahant, Grant of, to Capt. Gorges, 30-The Indians, 32 - Indian Deed of Lynn, 49-Topography and Phenomena, 56-Shoes and Shoemaking, 86 -Ancient Ferry; Roads; Iron Works, 93- Peculiar Customs and Doings in Religious Matters, 100.

TOPOGRAPHY AND PHENOMENA

     There were but few towns planted in Massachusetts before the settlement of Lynn. In 1622, a plantation was begun at Weymouth. In 1624, the Rev. William Blackstone, with his family, established himself at Boston. [And in the same year, a fishing and planting station was commenced at Cape Ann. The famous Roger Conant was appointed overseer, in 1625. The settlement, however, was broken up in the autumn of 1626, and Conant, with most of the company, removed from the cape, and commenced the settlement of Salem. He brought up his habitation; and intelligent antiquarians affirm that its frame is still doing service in the quaint old edifice standing on the east side of Washington street, corner of Church.] In 1625; a settlement was begun at Braintree; and in 1627, at Charlestown. On the 19th of March, 1628, the Council in England sold all that part of Massachusetts, between three miles north of Merrimack River, and three miles south of Charles River, to six gentlemen, one of whom was Mr. John Humfrey, who afterward came to Lynn.
     Lynn is pleasantly situated on the northern shore of Massachusetts Bay, between the cities of Salem and Boston. It extends six miles on the sea shore and five miles into the woods. [It will be borne in mind that this was written while Nahant and Swampscot remained parts of Lynn.] The southern portion of the town is a long, narrow prairie, defended on the north by a chain of high, rocky hills, beyond which is an extensive range of woodland. It is surrounded by abundance of water, having the river of Saugus on the west, the harbor on the south, the ocean on the southeast, and the lakes of Lynn on the north. From the centre of the southern side, a beach of sand extends two miles into the ocean, at the end of which are the two peninsular islands called the Nahants. This beach forms one side of the harbor, and protects it from the ocean. When great storms beat on this beach, and on the cliffs of Nahant, they make a roaring which may be heard six miles.
     Lynn is emphatically a region of romance and beauty. Her wide-spread and variegated shores- her extended beaches - her beautiful Nahant - her craggy cliffs, that overhang the sea - her hills of porphyry - her woodland lakes - her wild, secluded vales - her lovely groves, where sings the whip-poor-will - furnish fruitful themes for inexhaustible description; while the legends of her forest kings and their vast tribes - "their feather-cinctured chiefs and dusky loves," will be rich themes of song a hundred ages hence.
     Lynn, as it now exists, is much smaller than it was before the towns of Saugus, Lynnfield, Reading, and South Reading were separated from it. It is now, [1844,] bounded on the west by Saugus, on the northwest by Lynnfield, on the north and east by Danvers and Salem. The old county road passes through the northern part, the Salem Turnpike through the centre, and the rail road from Portland to Boston through the southern part. The distance to Salem, on the northeast, is five miles; to Boston, on the southwest, nine miles. It contains 9360 acres, or fourteen square miles; and the boundary line measures thirty-four miles. It presents a bold and rocky shore, consisting of craggy and precipitous cliffs, interspersed with numerous bays, coves, and beaches, which furnish a pleasing and picturesque variety. Above these rise little verdant mounds and lofty, barren rocks, and high hills, clothed with woods of evergreen. The first settlers found the town, including Nahant, chiefly covered by forests of aged trees, which had never been disturbed but by the storms of centuries. On the tops of ancient oaks, which grew upon the cliffs, the eagles built their nests; the wild-cat and the bear rested in their branches; and the fox and the wolf prowled beneath. The squirrel made his home undisturbed in the nut-tree; the wood-pigeon murmured his sweet notes in the glen; and the beaver constructed his dam across the wild brook. The ponds and streams were filled with fish; and the harbor was covered by sea-fowl, which laid their eggs on the cliffs and on the sands of the beach.
     The Indian name of the town was Saugus; and by that name it was known for eight years. The root of this word signifies great, or extended; and it was probably applied to the Long Beach. Wood, in his early map of New England, places the word " Sagus " on Sagamore Hill. The river on the west was called by the Indians Abousett - the word Saugus being applied to it by the white men. It was called the river at Saugus, and the river of Saugus, and finally the Saugus river; the original
name " Abousett " being lost until I had the pleasure of restoring it. This river has its source in Reading Pond, about ten miles from the sea. For the first half of its course, it is only sufficient for a mill stream, but becomes broader towards its mouth, where it is more than a quarter of a mile wide. It is crossed by four bridges - that at the Iron Works being about 60 feet in length, that on the old Boston road about 200, that on the Turnpike 480, and that on the Eastern Rail Road 1550. It is very crooked in its course, flowing three miles in the distance of one. In several places, after making a circuitous route of half a mile, it returns to within a few rods of the place whence it deviated. The harbor, into which it flows, is spacious, but shoal, and does not easily admit large vessels.
      NAHANT, [which was incorporated as a separate town in 1853,] is the original name of the peninsula on the south of Lynn, which has become so celebrated. [For some account of the early visits to Nahant, see pages 27-30.] This is probably the Indian term Nahanteau, a dual word signifying two united, or twins. This name is peculiarly appropriate, and is an instance of the felicity of Indian appellations; for the two islands, like the Siamese twins, are not only connected together by the short beach, but both are chained to the main land by the long beach. [I have found it elsewhere stated that Nahant, in the Indian language, signified "lover's walk."] When the early settlers spoke of the larger promontory, they called it Nahant; but more commonly after the manner of the Indians, who talked of both together, they called them "the Nahants."
     Great Nahant is two miles in length, and about half a mile in breadth, containing five hundred acres, and is six and one quarter miles in circumference. It is surrounded by steep, craggy cliffs, rising from twenty to sixty feet above the tide, with a considerable depth of water below. The rocks present a great variety of color-white, green, blue, red, purple, and gray and in some places very black and shining, having the appearance of iron. The cliffs are pierced by many deep fissures, caverns and grottos; and between these are numerous coves, and beaches of fine, shining, silvery sand, crowned by ridges of various colored pebbles, interspersed with sea-shells. Above the cliffs, the promontory swells into mounds from sixty to ninety feet in height. There are many remarkable cliffs and caves around Nahant, which are very interesting to the lovers of natural curiosities.
     The Swallows' Cave is a passage beneath a high cliff, on the southeastern part of Nahant. The entrance is eight feet high and ten wide. Inside, it is fourteen feet wide, and nearly twenty feet in height. Toward the centre it becomes narrower, and at the distance of seventy-two feet, opens into the sea. It may be entered about half tide, and passing through, you may ascend to the height above, without returning through the cave. At high tide the water rushes through with great fury. The swallows formerly inhabited this cave in great numbers, and built their nests on the irregularities of the rock above; but the multitude of visitors have frightened them mostly away. In delineating this delightful cavern, many a vision of early romance rises lovelily before me,
          And presses forward to be in my song,
          But must not now.
     It is not allowable for a serious historian to indulge in discursions of fancy, else might I record many a legend of love and constancy, which has been transmitted down from the olden time, in connection with this rude and romantic scenery. Here came the Indian maid, in all her artlessness of beauty, to lave her limbs in the enamored water. Here came Wenuchus and Yawata, and other daughters of the forest, to indulge the gushings of their love, which they had learned, not in the pages of Burns or Byron, but in God's beautiful book of the unsophisticated human heart. Here, too, the cliffs now washed by the pure waves, and dried by many a summer sun, have been purpled by the blood of human slaughter; and perhaps this very cavern has sheltered some Indian mother or daughter from the tomahawk of the remorseless foe of her nation. Here also, in later times, have lovers pledged their warm and fond affections - happy if the succeeding realities of life have not frustrated the vision of happiness here formed.
     Southward from the Swallows' Cave is Pea Island, an irregular rock, about twenty rods broad. It has some soil on it, on which the sea pea grows. It is united to the Swallows' Cliff by a little isthmus, or beach of sand, thirteen rods long.
     Eastward from Pea Island are two long, low, black ledges, lying in the water and covered at high tides, called the Shag Rocks. Several vessels have been wrecked on them. Passing from the Swallows' Cave along the rocks, near the edge of the water, to the western side of the same cliff, you come to Irene's Grotto - a tall arch, singularly grotesque and beautiful, leading to a large room in the rock. This is one of the greatest curiosities on Nalant, and was formerly much more so until sacrilegious hands broke down part of the roof above, to obtain stone for building.
     Eastward from Swallows' Cave is Pulpit Rock - a vast block, about thirty feet in height, and nearly twenty feet square, standing boldly out in the tide. On the top is an opening, forming a seat; but from the steepness of the rock on all sides, it is difficult of access. The upper portion of the rock has a striking resemblance to a pile of great books. This rock is so peculiarly unique in its situation and character, that if drawings were made of it from three sides, they would scarcely be supposed to represent the same object.
     The Natural Bridge is near Pulpit Rock. It is a portion of the cliff forming an arch across a deep gorge, from which you look down upon the rocks and tide, twenty feet below.
     Near East Point is a great gorge, overhung by a precipice on either side, called the Cauldron Cliff; in which, especially during great storms, the water boils with tremendous force and fury. On the right of this, descending another way, is the Roaring Cavern; having an aperture beneath the rock, through which you hear the roaring of the Cauldron Cliff.
     On the northeastern side of Nahant, at the extremity of Cedar Point, is Castle Rock, an immense pile, bearing a strong resemblance to the ruins of an old castle. The battlements and buttresses are strongly outlined; and the square openings in the sides, especially when thrown into deep shadow, appear like doors, windows, and embrasures. Indeed the whole of Nahant has the appearance of a strongly fortified place.
     Northwest from Castle Rock is the Spouting Horn. It is a winding fissure in the lower projecting bed of the cliff, in the form of a horn, passing into a deep cavern under the rock. The water is driven through a tunnel, formed by two walls of rock, about one hundred feet, and is then forced into the cavern, from which it is spouted, with great violence, in foam and spray. In a great easterly storm, at half flood, when the tide is coming in with all its power, the water is driven into this opening with a force that seems to jar the foundations of the solid rock; and each wave makes a sound like subterranean thunder. The cliff rises abruptly forty feet above, but there is a good descent to the mouth of the tunnel.
     Westward from the Spouting Horn is a large black ledge, called the Iron Mine, from its great resemblance to that mineral. It embraces a singular cavity, called the Dashing Rock.
     At the northwestern extremity of Nahant, is John's Peril, a vast fissure in the cliff, forty feet perpendicular. It received its name from the following anecdote: John Breed, one of the early inhabitants of Nahant, one day attempted to drive his team between a rock on the hill and this cliff. The passage being narrow, and finding his team in great peril, he hastily unfastened his oxen; and the cart, falling down the precipice, was dashed in pieces on the rocks below.
     Directly in front of Nahant, at the distance of three-fourths of a mile, on the east, is Egg Rock, [which is an extension of the ledge on the eastern side of Nahant.] It rises abruptly from the sea, eighty-six feet in height. Its shape is oval, being forty-five rods in length, and twelve in breadth, containing about three acres. Near the summit is half an acre of excellent soil covered with rank grass. The gulls lay their eggs here in abundance, whence the rock derives its name. The approach to this rock is dangerous, except in calm weather, and there is but one good landing place, which is on the western side. Its shape and colors are highly picturesque. Viewed from the north it has the semblance of a couchant lion, lying out in front of the town, to protect it from the approach of a foreign enemy - meet emblem of the spirit which slumbers on our shores. [Egg Rock was ceded to the United States in 1856, and a light house was immediately after erected upon it. The light was shown for the first time on the night of 15 Sept. 1857. It would certainly have been more convenient, and perhaps quite as useful, on the point of Nahant; but its appearance would not have been so picturesque. The cost of the building was $3,700. Mr. Lewis exerted himself with a good deal of zeal and pertinacity to secure the establishment of this light house.]
     South of Nahant is a dangerous rock, covered at high tide, called Sunk Rock. On the western side, at the entrance of the harbor, is a cluster of rocks called the Lobster Rocks.
     Nahant has always been a place of interest to the lovers of natural scenery, and has long been visited in the summer season by parties of pleasure, who, when there were no hotels, cooked, their chowders on the rocks. Few of the numerous visitors at Nahant have any idea of the place in its primitive simplicity, when its advantages were known and appreciated by a limited number of the inhabitants of the metropolis and neighboring towns. Accommodations for visitors were then circumscribed, and food was not very abundant. A chicken, knocked down by a fishing-pole in the morning, and cooked at dinner, served to increase the usual meal of fish, and was regarded as one of the luxuries of the place. But notwithstanding the inconveniences to which visitors were subjected, several families from Boston passed the whole summer in the close quarters of the village. Hon. James T. Austin, Hon. William Sullivan, Hon. William Minot, Charles Bradbury, Esq., Rufus Amory, Esq., and Marshall Prince, were among those who early and annually visited the rock-bound peninsula with their families. At this time, Nahant did not boast of a house from Bass Beach round by East Point to Bass Rock. The whole of the space now dotted by luxurious cottages and cultivated soil, was a barren waste, covered by short, brown grass, tenanted by grasshoppers and snakes. The straggler to East Point, Pulpit Rock, and Swallows' Cave, found his path impeded by stone walls - while the rest of the island, excepting the road through the village, was a terra incognita to all, save the old islanders and a few constant visitors. Subsequently, Rouillard opened a house in the village, which accommodated the numbers who were beginning to appreciate the beauties of the place. At this time, no artificial rules of society marred the comfort of the visitors. There was no dressing for dinners - no ceremonious calls. No belles brought a wardrobe, made up in the latest fashion of the day; and no beaux confined and cramped their limbs with tight coats, strapped pants, and high-heeled boots. Visitors shook off the restraints of society, and assimilated themselves in some degree to the rugged character of the scenery around them. Parties were frequently made, and whole days passed by them in the Swallows' Cave and on the adjacent rocks - the ladies with their sewing and books, while the men amused themselves in shooting or fishing, and the children in picking up pebbles and shells on the beaches. One of the first improvements made at Nahant, was a bathing-house at the southern extremity of Bass Beach, built under the direction of James Magee, Esq., whose name became associated with most of the early improvements. Since the citizens of Boston took Nahant into their patronage, its improvement has been rapid, and it now presents the appearance of a romantic town, sparkling in the ocean waves.
     Among the benefactors of Nahant, no one is deserving of higher commendation than Frederic Tudor, Esq., who has built one of the most beautiful rustic cottages in the country, and has expended many thousand dollars to improve and beautify the place, by constructing side-walks, and planting several thousands of fruit and ornamental trees, both on his own grounds, and in the public walks. He has converted a barren hill into a garden, which has produced some of the richest and most delicious fruits and vegetables that have been presented at the horticultural exhibitions.
     [In 1860, Mr. Tudor commenced those improvements in the vicinity of North Spring, or Cold Spring, as it has been indiscriminately called, which have already added much to its natural attractions. For generation after generation this locality has been a favorite place of resort. The little stream which gave rise to the name has never ceased to leap joyously from its paternal fountain somewhere in the bowels of the rocky hill, and unmurmuringly trickle on to add its mite to the waters of the craving ocean - just as joyously when it fell on the rough bed of rock that nature made ready for it, as it now does upon the marble bed, which the hand of art prepared. And may it not, after these many ages of small but ceaseless contribution, modestly claim to have performed some service in the filling up of the great sea? Here, upon the rough rocks, the parties of old were accustomed to cook their chowders, made of fish caught from the abundance that sported at their very feet the drift-wood at hand being sufficient for the fires, and the sparkling spring supplying all demands of thirst. Under the shade of the few old forest trees that still remained upon the upland, the happy visitors partook of their repast, and contemplated the glorious scene spread out to view. But art has come in and shaken hands with nature. And the Maolis (Siloam) Grounds have conveniences, in the unique erections and wellordered appointments, to meet the wants of a genteeler age.
     [The most striking of the works of art, in this vicinity, is the Rock Temple. It is reared upon an elevated ledge, a little southeast of the old North Spring road, and a few rods above the ever-dashing waves. Its circumference is about a hundred and twenty feet, and it consists of eight irregular columns of stratified rock, resting upon bases formed of ponderous concrete stones, some of several tons weight, supporting an octagonal roof of heavy timber, covered with bark and other material in keeping with the rugged appearance of the columns, which are, including their bases, from twelve to fifteen feet in height, varying according to the inequalities of the surface on which they rest. Sundry mythological denizens of the deep, glisten in gilded honor upon the gables and challenge the study of the curious. This attractive edifice was reared in 1861.
     [The contemplations of visitors who seat themselves in the Rock Temple, must vary according to their peculiarities of mind, habits of thought, and education. To some, visions of classic days will arise - days when philosophy and poetry were taught amid the inspiring scenes of nature - when the grove, the hilltop and the sounding shore were schools - and, perhaps, lost in contemplation, they will glance around for the appearance of the robed sage appointed there to minister. To others, weird visions may be suggested - visions of old Druidical days, when through the open temple of rock the wild winds moaned as if in solemn unison with the wail of the disturbed spirits who lingered there - and they, too, lost in contemplation, may glance around for the shaven priest and bound victim.
     [But all who come hither with unstraying thoughts may enjoy one of the most captivating scenes that nature ever provided for the eye of man. In the quiet sleeping of the ocean, beneath a cloudless sky - her swelling bosom traversed by white sails, scudding in all directions, with the dark trains of steamers fading away on the horizon, and the sunlight gilding her dancing ripples - he beholds a picture of rare beauty, the effect of which is vastly heightened by the inland background. The hills, the woods, the rocks, the habitations, the towering church spires, the sandy ridge, the distant shore, all lend their charms. And here the visitor may also sit and witness the stern grandeur of the ocean storm - sit tremblingly a-watch, while the eternal rocks themselves seem to recoil from the assaulting billows - when by the midnight lightning's gleam the powerless ship, perchance, may be discerned dashing furiously onward to her doom among the jagged cliffs. And may it not be, too, that during years to come this temple will be resorted to by lovers on their moonlight strolls. Here may they sit and whisper their sweet dreams, with hopes as bright and souls as placid, as the beams that rock upon the wave. And may their happy dreams prove verities.]
     Little Nahant, is one hundred and forty rods long, and seventy broad, containing forty acres. It is a hill, consisting of two graceful elevations, rising eighty feet above the sea, and defended by great battlements of rock, from twenty to sixty feet in height. On the southern side are two deep gorges, called the Great and Little Furnace. Between these is Mary's Grotto, a spacious room, twenty-four feet square, and twenty in height, opening into the sea. It was formerly completely roofed by a great arched rock; but some of those persons who have no veneration for the sublime works of Nature, have broken down a large portion of it. On the north side of Little Nahant is a fissure called the Wolf's Cave.
     [Interesting erratic rocks have been observed at Little Nahant - on the western side, a boulder of fine pudding stone, twenty-six feet in circumference; a granite boulder, thirty-six feet in circumference; a brecciated boulder, thirty-six feet in circumference, half buried in sand; - on the southern side, a granite boulder, thirty-four feet in circumference; a split boulder, irregular, forty-six feet in circumference; an irregular brecciated boulder, forty-nine feet in circumference, weighing about a hundred and sixty tons; - on the summit, near East Point, a split boulder, forty-six feet in circumference.]
     Little Nahant is connected to Great Nahant by Nahant Beach, which is somewhat more than half a mile in length, of great smoothness and beauty.
     Lynn Beach, which connects the Nahants to the main land, is two miles in length on the eastern side, and two and a half miles on the western. It is an isthmus, or causeway, of fine, shining, gray sand, forming a curve, and rising so high in the centre as generally to prevent the tide from passing over. On the western side it slopes to the harbor, and on the eastern side to the ocean. The ocean side is most beautiful, as here the tide flows out about thirty-three rods, leaving a smooth, polished surface of compact sand, so hard that the horse's hoof scarcely makes a print, and the wheel passes without sound. It frequently retains sufficient lustre after the tide has left it, to give it the appearance of a mirror; and on a cloudy day the traveler may see the perfect image of his horse reflected beneath, with the clouds below, and can easily imagine himself to be passing, like a spirit, through a world of shadows - a brightly mirrored emblem of his real existence!
     It is difficult, perhaps impossible, to convey to the mind of a reader who has never witnessed the prospect, an idea of the beauty and sublimity of this beach, and of the absolute magnificence of the surrounding scenery. A floor of sand, two miles in length, and more than nine hundred feet in breadth, at low tide, bounded on two sides by the water and the sky, and presenting a surface so extensive that two millions of people might stand upon it, is certainly a view which the universe cannot parallel. This beach is composed of movable particles of sand, so small that two thousand of them would not make a grain as large as the head of a pin; yet these movable atoms have withstood the whole immense power of the Atlantic ocean for centuries, perhaps from the creation!
     There are five beaches on the shores of Lynn, [including Swampscot,] and sixteen around Nahant. The names of these, beginning at the east, are Phillips' - Whale - Swampscot - Humfrey's - Lynn - Nahant - Stoney - Bass - Canoe - Bathing - Pea Island - Joseph's - Curlew - Crystal - Dorothy's - Pond - Lewis's - Coral - Reed -Johnson's - and Black Rock beaches. These together have an extent of nine miles, and most of them are smooth and beautiful. Great quantities of kelp and rock weed are thrown upon these beaches by storms, which are gathered by the farmers for the enrichment of their lands.
     SWAMPSCOT is the original Indian name of the fishing village at the eastern part of the town. [It was incorporated as a separate town, 21 May, 1852.] This is a place of great natural beauty, bearing a strong resemblance to the Bay of Naples. On the west of Swampscot is a pleasant rock, called Black Will's Cliff, from an Indian sagamore who resided there. On the east is a low and very dangerous ledge of rocks extending into the sea, called Dread Ledge. The cliffs, coves, and beaches at Swampscot are admirably picturesque, and vie with those of Nahant in romantic beauty.
     There are numerous building sites of surpassing loveliness, not only at Nahant and Swampscot, but throughout Lynn; and when a better taste in architecture shall prevail, and the town becomes as highly ornamented by art as it has been by nature, it will perhaps be surpassed by no town in the Union. I have long endeavored to introduce a style of architecture which shall be in harmony with the wild and natural beauty of the scenery - a style in which the cottages shall appear to grow out of the rocks and to be born of the woods. In some instances I have succeeded, but most people have been too busy in other occupations to study a cultivated and harmonizing taste. When a style of rural refinement shall prevail -when the hills and cliffs shall be adorned with buildings in accordance with the scenery around - and when men, instead of cutting down every tree and shrub, shall re-clothe nature with the drapery of her appropriate foliage, Lynn will appear much more lovely and interesting than at present. [But Mr. Lewis himself lived to see the day of better taste arrive. The style of architecture has wonderfully improved within the last twenty years. And could all the elegant residences that are now scattered in every direction, be gathered into one quarter, they would form an array which could be equalled by few places out of the leading cities. Our romantic hills are beginning to be adorned by structures becoming in style and challenging the admiration of the traveler. Some of the most beautiful gardens in New England are likewise here to be found. Our newly-erected manufactories are on a far more extensive and durable scale than the old. And our streets and other public places have been greatly beautified by the planting of numerous ornamental trees. In short, it may be fairly claimed that the external progress of Lynn has kept pace with her moral and intellectual advancement.]
     The eminences in different parts of the town, furnish a great variety of pleasing prospects. High Rock, near the centre of the town, is an abrupt cliff, one hundred and seventy feet in height. The view from this rock is very extensive and beautiful. On the east is the pleasant village of Swampscot, with its cluster of slender masts, and its beaches covered with boats - Baker's island with its light - the white towers of Marblehead - and the distant headland of Cape Ann. On the right is Bunker Hill, with its obelisk of granite the majestic dome, and the lofty spires of Boston - the beautiful green islands, with the forts and light houses in the Bay - and far beyond, the Blue Hills, softly mingling with the sky. On the north is a vast range of hill and forest, above which rises the misty summit of Wachusett. Before you is the town of Lynn, with its white houses and green trees - the rail-road cars gliding as if by magic across the landscape - the Long Beach, stretching out in its beauty - the dark rocks of Nahant, crowned with romantic cottages - Egg Rock, in its solitary dignity - and the vast ocean, spreading out in its interminable grandeur. There too may be seen a hundred dories of the fishermen, skimming lightly over the waves - the Swampscot, jiggers, bounding like sea birds over the billows - a hundred ships, ploughing the deep waters and the mighty steamers wending their way to and from England. The whole is a splendid panorama of the magnificent Bay of Massachusetts.
     Lover's Leap is a beautiful and romantic elevation near the northern end of Grove street, and a mile northwest from High Rock. It is a steep cliff, on the side of a hill clothed with wood, one hundred and thirty-three feet in height - that is, thirty-three feet to the base of the hill, and one hundred feet above. It furnishes a pleasant view of a large portion of the town.
     Pine Hill is half a mile west from Lover's Leap. It is two hundred and twenty-four feet in height. The southwestern extremity of this hill is called Sadler's Rock, which is one hundred and sixty-six feet high. A small distance northward of this, is a cliff, by the road side, which was struck by lightning in 1807, when a portion of the rock, about 12 tons weight, was split off, and thrown nearly two hundred feet; the bolt leaving its deep traces down the side of the rock. A few rods beyond, where the road is crossed by a brook, is a flat rock, in which is impressed the print of a cloven foot, apparently that of a cow or moose. A stone, lying near, bears the deep impress of a child's feet.
     Sagamore Hill is a very pleasant eminence at the northern end of Long Beach, sixty-six feet in height. It slopes to the harbor on one side, and to the ocean on the other, and has the town lying beautifully in the back ground. [Since this was written Sagamore Hill has become covered by residences, some of them very fine, and affording charming landscape and marine views.] Half a mile eastward is Red Rock, which forms a very pretty little promontory in the ocean. Many spots in the hills and forests of Lynn are beautifully wild and romantic. There is a delightful walk on the eastern bank of Saugus River, which passes through one of the loveliest pine groves imaginable. On the eastern side of this river also is the Pirates' Glen, respecting which a legend will be found under date 1658. The view from Round Hill, in Saugus, is delightful.
     There are seven ponds in Lynn, several of which are large, having the appearance of little lakes. Their names are Cedar - Tomlins's - Flax - Lily - Floating Bridge - Phillips's - Ingalls's. And there is Bear Pond, on Nahant. The first three of these are connected with Saugus River by Strawberry Brook, on which are many mills and factories. The margins of some of these lakes are very pleasant, and will probably, at some more tasteful period, be adorned with beautiful villas and delightful cottages. The water in Tomlins's Pond is sixty feet above the ocean. Floating Bridge Pond is crossed by a bridge which floats on the water. It is four hundred and fifty-six feet in length, and is quite a curiosity, reminding one of the Persian bridge of boats across the Hellespont.
     Springs are abundant -some of them exceedingly cold and pure, and good water is easily obtained. [William Wood, the early Lynn settler and author of New England's Prospect, before alluded to, was delighted with the water hereabout. He says, " it is farr different from the waters of England, being not so sharp but of a fatter substance, and of a more jettie color; it is thought there can be no better water in the world; yet dare I not prefer it before good beere, as some have done; but any man will choose it before bad beere, whey, or buttermilk."] There are several fine springs at Nahant, particularly North Spring, which is remarkably cold, flowing from an aperture beneath a cliff, into which the sun never shines. [See page 63, for notice of recent improvements' n this neighborhood.] One of the early inhabitants of Nahant, having a violent fever, asked for water, which, as usual in such cases, was denied him; but, watching an opportunity, he escaped from his bed, ran half a mile to this spring, drank as much water as he wanted, and immediately recovered. A curious boiling spring, called Holyoke Spring, surrounded by willows, is found in a meadow, near the western end of Holyoke street. Another boiling spring may be seen in the clay meadow, near the centre of Saugus. There is also a mineral spring in the western part of that town, near the Malden line.
     [But the most noted mineral spring in this region is that near the eastern border of the town, on the margin of Spring Pond, which lies within the limits of Salem. The waters are impregnated with iron and sulphur, and were formerly much esteemed for their good effects in scorbutic and pulmonary affections. It has been popularly called the Red Spring, its waters having a reddish hue, imparted, probably, by the iron. About the close of century 1600, Dr. John Caspar Richter van Crowninscheldt, purchased the adjacent lands and settled on them, directing his attention chiefly to farming. He was a gentleman widely known and of good reputation. The present prominent Crowninshield family descended from him. At his romantic retreat eminent personages were sometimes entertained. The celebrated Cotton Mather, among others, visited him, partook of the waters of the spring, and in one of his elaborate works extols their virtues. The situation is delightful. The little lake, which has received the pretty name of Lynnmere, nestles so cozily and smiles so brightly between the thickly wooded hills that it might almost be imagined there had been a compact that it should be shielded from the wild winds that would agitate its bosom, in return for the refreshing exhalations it might send up to renovate the drooping foliage. Upon the western bank, which rises gracefully to a considerable height, was erected, in 1810, the edifice long known as Lynn Mineral Spring Hotel. It was a favorite summer resort; and no inland retreat could be more charming. There was fishing in the pond, fowling in the woods, and beautiful drives in all directions.
     [In 1847, Richard S. Fay, Esq., purchased the estate and also many acres of the adjoining territory, and made his summer residence there. A very large number of foreign trees have been planted; England and France are represented; the Black Forest of Germany; and even Russia and Siberia. There is a pleasing variety of grove and lawn, pasture and arable ground, woodland and meadow. And altogether the landscape is one of uncommon freshness and vigor. In traversing the grounds one is forcibly reminded of feudal days and baronial domains. And if the ivyed walls of an ancient castle could be discerned peering from some rocky crest across the lake, the illusion mighit be complete. There are various historical facts of interest connected with this pleasant locality, some of which will be alluded to under dates 1676, 1682, and 1700. At the last date Dr. Crowninscheldt bought the estate of Elizabeth Allen, of Salem, which must have lain near his previous purchase, and which gave him quite an extensive area. Or else a mistake has prevailed as to the date of his settlement here, and her deed indicates the period of his first coming. The deed mentions buildings, and hence the inference that there were settlers somewhere in the vicinity of the Pond before the time of its date. Mr. Lewis elsewhere remarks that Dr. Crowninscheldt, who was a German, as his name indicates, was the first white man who settled at the Spring, having built a cottage there, about the year 1690; and adds that at the time he wrote, (1844) several of the old apple trees, planted by him, were still standing in the garden.]
     Lynn furnishes an admirable study for the geologist. The northern part of the town abounds with rocky hills, composed of porphyry, greenstone, and sienite. Porphyry commences at Red Rock, and passing through the town in a curve toward the northwest, forms a range of hills, including High Rock, Lover's Leap, and Sadler's Rock. The term porphyry is derived from a Greek word signifying purple. It is composed of feldspar and quartz, and is of various colors - purple, red, gray, brown, and black. It gives fire with steel, and is susceptible of a high polish; the best specimens being very beautiful, equalling the porphyry of the ancients. The western portion of the town comprises ledges and hills of brecciated porphyry; that is, porphyry which has been broken into fragments, and then cemented by a fluid. The porphyry formation continues on through Sangus. Near the Pirates' Glen is a ledge, which is being disintegrated into very coarse gravel, having the appearance of pumice or rotten stone. Specimens of clinkstone porphyry are found, which, when struck, give out a metallic sound. At Lover's Leap, and elsewhere, the porphyry seems to be subsiding into fine hornstone. At Sadler's Rock, it is of a very delicate purple.
     The hills in the eastern section of the town, including the ledges and cliffs at Swampscot, consist of a coarse-grained greenstone, composed of hornblende and feldspar. In opening these ledges, dendrites of manganese have been found, beautifully disposed in the form of trees and shrubs. [I have found numbers of very fine ones, in the vicinity of Sadler's Rock; some of them so striking as almost to induce the belief that nature had in some mysterious way been operating by the photographic process.] This tract of greenstone extends through the town, north of the porphyry hills. In many places it is beautifully veined with quartz, and other substances. A little north from the Iron Works, in Saugus, is a great ledge by the roadside, with a singular vein passing through it, having the appearance of a flight of stairs. On the eastern bank of the river, southward from the Iron Works, is a wild, tremendous ledge, from which many vast fragments have fallen, and others seem ready to topple on the head of the beholder.
     The northern section of the town comprises fine beds of sienite, of a grayish color, composed of feldspar, hornblende, and quartz. It has its name from Siena, in Egypt. It is found in great variety, from very fine to very coarse, and is used for building, and for mill-stones. From the presence of iron ore, it frequently attracts the compass, and occasions much difficulty in surveying. At one place in the Lynn woods, the north end of the needle pointed south; and at another, it went round forty times in a minute.
    Granite occurs, but chiefly in roundish masses, or boulders, composed of feldspar, quartz, and mica. It is not so frequent as formerly, the best specimens having been used for building. It is remarkable, that nearly all these boulders appear to have been brought, by a strong flood from a considerable distance north; and many of them were left in very peculiar and sometimes surprising positions, on the tops of the highest hills and ledges. One of these, near the Salem line, rested on the angular point of a rock, and was a great curiosity, until that rage for destructiveness, which exists in some people, caused it to be blown down by powder. Another boulder, fourteen feet in diameter, weighing full one hundred and thirty tons, lay on the very summit of the cliff next east from Sadler's Rock. It appeared to repose so loosely that a strong wind might rock it; yet it required fifteen men, with levers, to roll it down. [And this may have been the rock that tradition avers the enterprising proprietor of the land had discharged from its ancient resting place, by offering a certain quantity of rum for its removal. And the fifteen alluded to may have been the jolly topers who undertook the job. Near the foot of the hill the ponderous mass formed an indentation that operated usefully as a reservoir, supplying the neighborhood, for many years, with excellent water.] A boulder of breccia, on the boundary line between Lynn and Saugus, rests on a ledge of breccia of a different character, and appears to have been removed from its original situation in the north. It is twelve feet in diameter, weighing eighty-three tons. On this line also is a still greater curiosity a vast rock of greenstone, which appears to have been brought from its bed in the north, and placed on the summit of a hill, where it forms a very picturesque object. It was originally sixteen feet in diameter, weighing two hundred tons; but several large portions have been detached, either by frost or lightning, perhaps both. It must have been a tremendous torrent, which could have removed rocks of such magnitude, and placed them on such elevations. [May not such phenomena be referred to the glacier period?] Many boulders of granite now lie on the summit of Little Nahant. The cliffs at this place are greenstone. A conglomerate rock, or boulder of breccia, of a very peculiar character, lies in the tide, on the south side of Little Nahant. It is a spheroid, eighteen feet in diameter, weighing two hundred and sixty tons. Its singular disposition of colors renders it a great curiosity.
     The western and southern portions of Great Nahant are composed of fine and coarse grained greenstones, and greenstone porphyry. The hills and ledges on the northern side are sienite; and on the northeast, they are a coarse-grained greenstone, blending into sienite. The southeastern portion is composed of stratified rocks of argillaceous limestone, and argillaceous slate, variously combined, and traversed by immense veins of greenstone. The rocks, in this part, present a very peculiar appearance, both in their combination and disposition; consisting of immense masses, and irregular fragments, cracked and broken in every direction. Were we to suppose a portion of one of the asteroids, in an ignited state, to have been precipitated through the atmosphere, from the southeast, and striking the earth in an angle of forty degrees, to have been shivered into an infinite number of fragments, it would probably present the appearance which Nahant now exhibits. There must have been some tremendous up-heaving to have produced such results; and it is not improbable that a volcano has more than once been busy among the foundations of Nahant.
     On the northern shore is a vast ledge of pure hornblende, so very black and shining as to have deceived early voyagers and founders into the belief that it was a mine of iron ore. A very curious vein of fine greenstone, two inches in thickness, passes through this ledge, for more than two hundred feet, in a direction from southeast to northwest. Eastward from this, the rock is traversed by veins of various colors, and in different directions; evidently produced by the action of fire. The primitive rock appears to have been strongly heated, and to have cracked in cooling. A fissure was thus formed, through which a liquid mass was erupted, which again heated the rock, and as it cooled, formed another fissure in a transverse direction. This was filled by a third substance; a similar process followed; and the original rock, and the preceding veins, were traversed by a fourth formation.
     At Nahant are found porphyry, gneiss, and hornstone. It also presents regular strata of foliated feldspar; and, perhaps, the only instance in New England, in which trap rock exhibits such parallel divisions. Here also are found jasper, chalcedony, and agate; with prase, prehnite, chert, chlorite, datholite, dolomite, quartz, epidote, rhomb spar, carbonate of lime, and lignified asbestos. At Crystal Beach are fine specimens of crystalized corundum, probably the only locality of this mineral in the United States. These crystals are in six-sided prisms, terminated by hexagonal pyramids, half an inch in diameter, and from two to five inches in length, single and in clusters. Swallows' Cave is composed of greenstone; Pulpit.Rock of argillaceous slate; Castle Rock of greenstone; Egg Rock of compact feldspar. Mineral teeth are formed by the fusion of pure feldspar.
     In Saugus are found most of the rocks common to Lynn. Here are rocks of red and green jasper, with antimony and bog iron ore in abundance. An account of the Iron Works anciently established here, will be found in the following pages. Lead ore has also been discovered in the western part of the town. In the northern part, sulphate of iron is found. Extensive beds of very fine clay exist near the centre of the town, which have been wrought into pottery. In 1830, a very singular discovery was made near the old tavern on the west of Saugus River. It consisted of a mass of very fine and beautiful blue sand, which lay in a hard gravel bed, about one foot below the surface. There were about eight quarts of it. This sand has a very sharp grit, yet it is as fine as can easily be imagined, and as blue as the bluest pigment. Viewed through a magnifying glass, it appears bright and sparkling, like the finest possible particles of silver. At Lynnfield, an extensive quarry of serpentine has been opened.
     A large portion of Lynn bears strong evidence both of alluvial and diluvial formations. That part between the porphyry hills and the harbor, is chiefly composed of strata of sand, clay, and gravel, covered by loam and soil. The clay and gravel vary in thickness from two to fifteen feet. On the borders of Saugus River are extensive tracts of salt marsh, the mud of which is from two to twenty feet in depth; and it is probable that this portion was once covered by the ocean. There are also evidences that a much larger quantity of water has at some time been discharged by the Saugus River; and this accords with an Indian, tradition. Just above the Iron Works, the river diverges toward the west; but a great valley continues toward the north. Whoever is curious to trace this valley several miles, may be satisfied that a great flood has at some time passed through it; and perhaps it was this torrent which brought the boulders, and swept down the soil which now constitutes the bed of the marshes.
     These great tracts of marsh, called by the first settlers Rumney Marsh, are in Lynn, Saugus, and Chelsea. They lie between the porphyry hills and the sea, and are about a mile in breadth, and nearly three miles in extent. The western portion of these marshes are protected by Chelsea Beach, a long ridge of sand which has been thrown up by the tide, and lies against their southern margin. The eastern section is defended from the sea by the Lynn Beach, which lies a mile distant with the harbor inside. Throughout this region of marsh are trunks of great trees, chiefly pines, imbedded from two to four feet beneath the surface, and in a good state of preservation. The salt water frequently covers these marshes from two to three feet. Many of these trees lie in a direction from north to south, as if they had been blown down by a strong north wind, on the spot where they grew. But that is probably the direction in which they would have been deposited, if brought down by a great northern current. Others lie in different directions. If we suppose these trees to have grown where they now lie, we have the singular anomaly of a vast forest of great trees, growing from two to six feet below the high tides of salt water. Nor will it assist us any to suppose that this forest was protected from the sea by a great ridge or beach; for a river comes down from the north, and they must then have grown at a greater depth beneath fresh water. The probability that they were brought from their original forest by a great northern current, is strengthened by the fact that on the west of these marshes is a great region of mounds of sand and gravel, from twenty to one hundred feet in height, in digging through which, portions of trees have been found. Another fact will be interesting to the geologist, that though all the neighboring hills are covered with trees, these mounds, though clothed with grass, are destitute of foliage; and William Wood, more than two centuries ago, describes them as " upland grass, without tree or shrub."
     An alluvion commences at Humfrey's Beach, and passes up Stacey's Brook, beneath which is another fine stratum of clay. In this tract are some rich peat meadows, which were formerly ponds. The peat is a formation of decomposed vegetables, and is dug by a kind of long spade, which cuts it into regular solids, about four inches square, and two feet in length. It is then piled and dried for fuel, and produces a constant and intense heat. A meadow between Fayette and Chatham streets, contains an alluvial deposit of rich black soil, twelve feet in depth. In digging to the depth of three feet, the trunk of a large oak was found; and at the depth of six feet, a stratum of leaves and burnt wood. In various other places, the fallen trunks of great trees have been found, from three to six feet below the surface, with large trees growing above them. In the north part of Lynn, and in Saugus, are several large swamps, remarkable for the great depth of vegetable matter, and for the wonderful preservation of wood in them. Many acres of these swamps have been cleared, and several hundred cords of wood taken from them, and charred into good coal. And still beneath these depths appears to be a " lower deep," filled with wood partially decayed. The whole southern section of the town, also, presents strong evidences of great geological changes. Whoever visits Chelsea Beach, which extends westward from Lynn Harbor may perceive that a new beach has been thrown up, outside the old one; and the appearance gives great confidence in the Indian tradition, that this beach was thrown up by a great storm, in a single night. The Lynn Beach was once much farther out than at present; and within it was a swamp, covered by large pines and cedars, forming an isthmus from Lynn to Nahant. The beach was thrown up against the eastern shore of this isthmus, and a succession of great storm tides have driven it in, until the whole isthmus has been submerged by water and sand. By my own surveys, I find that this beach has moved five rods within twelve years, and now covers many acres of marshy ground, which were on the western side. After great storms, portions of this marsh, covered by the stumps of trees, frequently appear on the eastern side. This beach has been so much injured, there is reason to apprehend that the tides may sweep over and destroy it. Such an event is greatly to be deprecated, both as it regards its beauty and utility; for the existence of the harbor depends on its durability. If the plan be completed, which I proposed, of making a barrier of cedar, it may be saved. I hope that public spirit enough may be found, to preserve this great natural curiosity for the admiration of future generations. [The sagacity of these observations was soon verified. See under date 1851.]
     Most of the trees and plants common to New England, are found at Lynn, and some which are rare and valuable. The principal trees are white and pitch pine, white and red cedar, oak, walnut, maple, birch and hemlock. One of the most common shrubs is the barberry, the root of which is used in dyeing yellow, and the fruit is an excellent preserve. [The barberry is an exotic, called, in England, the pepperidge bush. The early settlers introduced some plants for which after generations had no cause to be thankful. Among them were the white-weed and wood-wax. But the barberry seems to hold a doubtful rank. As Mr. Lewis remarks, its root is useful in dyeing, and its fruit affords an agreeable preserve. But its prevalence in pasture lands was found to be highly detrimental, insomuch that the law interposed, a hundred years ago, to check its increase. It however requires such a peculiarity of soil that to this day it has not spread over a great extent of' territory. Even in most parts of Massachusetts a barberry bush was never seen.] Many tons of sumach are annually gathered, and used in the manufacture of morocco leather. Whortleberries are very plenty in the pastures and many hundred bushels are annually gathered. Blueberries, raspberries, blackberries, and cranberries, are also common. The forests, fields, and meadows, are rich in the abundance and variety of medicinal plants, and the town presents a fine field for the botanist. [William Wood, while taking a botanical survey, was so elated as to find plain prose insufficient for his occasion, and therefore called in the aid of poetry, after this manner:
          Trees both in hills and plaines, in plenty be,
          The long liv'd Oake, and mournful Cypris tree,
          Skie-towering Pines, and Chesnuts coated rough,
          The lasting Cedar, with the Walnut tough;
          The rosin-dropping Firr for masts in use;
          The boatmen seeke for oares, light, neat grown Sprewse,
          The brittle Ash, the ever-trembling Aspes,
          The broad-spread Elme, whose concave harbors waspes;
          The water-spongie Alder, good for nought,
          Small Elderne by th' Indian Fletchers sought,
          The knottie Maple, pallid Birtch, Hawthornes,
          The Hornbound tree that to be cloven scornes,
          Which, from the tender Vine oft takes its spouse,
          Who twinds imbracing armes about his boughes.
          Within this Indian Orchard fruits be some,
          The ruddie Cherrie and the jettie Plumbe,
          Snake murthering Hazell, with sweet Saxaphrage,
          Whose spumes in beere allays hot fevers rage,
          The diars [dyer's] Shumach, with more trees there be,
          That are both good to use and rare to see.J
     Great numbers of wild birds, of almost every kind, frequent the woods and waters of Lynn. Numerous sea-fowl afford amusement to the sportsman; and there is scarcely a bird common to North America, which does not, at some season of the year, gratify our ears with its song, or delight our eyes by its plumage. A great variety of fishes, also, are found in the waters. Haddock, halibut, cod, bass, and mackerel, are taken in abundance in boats; and nippers and tautog are caught by dozens, with hook and line, from the cliffs of Nahant. Hundreds, and sometimes thousands of lobsters are daily taken, in the proper season, by traps which are set around the shores; and alewives in abundance are caught in the streams in the month of May. To give a particular description of all the animal and vegetable productions, would be to write a volume. In the coves around Nahant, that very singular vegetable animal, called the sea-anemone, or rose-fish, is found. They grow on the rocks in the deep pools, and when extended, are from six to eight inches in length, furnished with antenna, or feelers, which they put out to seek for their food; but if touched, they shrink close to the rock, and remain folded like a rose. On summer evenings, the meadows exhibit a beautiful appearance, being illuminated by thousands of fireflies, which appear to take ineffable delight in enlivening the gloom by their phosphoric radiance. One of them in a dark room, will emit sufficient light to read the finest print.
     Some portions of the soil are very fertile, but generally it is rather hard and acidulous. The pastures produce barberries, the woodlands grapes; the meadows are filled with cranberries, the marshes with samphire; and the fields, when neglected, run into sorrel. Much dependence is placed upon sea weeds for the enrichment of the lands; but the soil would be much more permanently improved by the rich mud from the bed of the harbor.
     The climate of Lynn is generally healthy, but the prevalence of east winds is a subject of complaint for invalids, especially those afflicted with pulmonary disorders. That these winds are not generally detrimental to health is evident from the fact, that the people of Nahant, surrounded by the sea, and subject to all its breezes, are unusually healthy. From some cause, however, there are a great number of deaths by consumption. Formerly, a death by this disease was a rare occurrence, and then the individual was ill for many years, and the subjects were usually aged persons. In 1727, when a young man died of consumption at the age of nineteen, it was noticed as a remarkable circumstance; but now, young people frequently die of that disease after an illness of a few months. Of three hundred and sixteen persons, whose deaths were noticed in the First Parish for about twenty years previous to 1824, a hundred and twelve were the subjects of consumption; and in some years since, more than half the deaths have been occasioned by that insidious malady. There is something improper and unnatural in this. It is doubtless owing to the habits of the people, to their confinement in close rooms, over hot stoves, and to their want of exercise, free air, and ablution. It is owing to their violation of some of the great laws of nature. To one accustomed, as I have always been, to ramble by the sea shore, and on the hill top, to breathe the ocean wind and the mountain air, this close confinement of the shops would be a living death. Were it not for the social intercourse, I would as soon be confined in a prison cell as in a room twelve feet square, with a hot stove, and six or eight persons breathing the heated air over and over again, long after it is rendered unfit to sustain life. If mechanics find it convenient to work together in shops, they should build them longer and higher, and have them well ventilated. The subject of bathing, too, requires more attention. There are many people in Lynn, as there are in all other places, who never washed themselves all over in their lives, and who would as soon think of taking a journey through the air in a balloon, as of going under water. How they contrive to exist I cannot imagine; they certainly do not exist in the highest degree of happiness, if happiness consists in the enjoyment of that free and buoyant mind which is nourished by pure air and clean water. Some of these water haters, a few years since made a law, that boys should not bathe in sight of any house; yet they have furnished no bathing houses; and there are no secluded places, excepting where the lives of children would be endangered. Thus they not only refuse to bathe themselves, but prevent the young, by a heavy penalty, from enjoying one of the purest blessings and highest luxuries of existence. Perhaps nothing is more conducive to health than sea bathing. I do not wish for a return of the "olden time," with all its errors and absurdities, but I do desire a return to that simplicity which is born of purity.
     The climate here is subject to sudden changes, and great extremes of heat and cold, being strangely mixed up with beautiful sunlight and horrid storms, moonshiny evenings and long days of cold rain, bright blue sky and impenetrable fogs. European poets tell us of the charms of May, and the song of the nightingale; our pleasant month is June, and the whip-poor-will is our bird of love. The months of June, July, and August are usually delightful; and in October and November we have the Indian summer. The temperature is then soft and agreeable, and a pleasing haze fills the atmosphere. Sometimes the sky is "darkly, deeply, beautifully blue;" and sunset is often so gorgeously glorious, that the art of the painter cannot portray it. The months of May and September usually abound with chilly rain storms, and dismal, drizzly days. After these succeed the two pleasantest portions of the year. The cold season continues from December to April, and we have snow in each of these months, from three inches to three feet in depth. As winter approaches, the forests are arrayed in the most splendid and beautiful colors; exhibiting almost every variety of shade, from pale green, and dark brown, to bright yellow and deep scarlet. Not only are single leaves thus colored, but whole trees and masses of foliage are vividly tinctured with the most pleasing and variegated hues. [Many still suppose that these beautiful changes are produced by frost. But observation shows that they are caused by the ripening of the foliage. In some species of vegetation the change commences much earlier than in other. The white maple usually appears in its gorgeous apparel weeks before the frosts come; and the same may be said of the white birch and the woodbine.] In winter, the weather is often, for many days together, exceedingly cold, and the moonlight most intensely brilliant.
     The unequal refraction of the atmosphere frequently occasions peculiar and curious appearances on the water. Sometimes the sun, when it rises through a dense atmosphere, appears greatly elongated in its vertical diameter. Presently it appears double, the two parts being connected together by a neck. At length two suns are distinctly seen; the refracted sun appearing wholly above the water, before the true sun has risen. I have repeatedly seen and admired this surprising and exceedingly beautiful phenomenon. Some critics, because Pentheus saw two suns rising over Thebes, have drawn the inference that he could not have been a member of the temperance society; but his vision might have been merely assisted by refraction:
          He saw two suns, and double Thebes appear. -DRYDEN'S VIRGIL.
     This mirage, or loom, frequently causes Nahant, Egg Rock, and vessels on the coast, to appear nearly twice their natural height, and sometimes to seem actually elevated in the air, so as to leave a space beneath them. Portions of the south shore, also, which are commonly invisible, appear plainly in sight. It was undoubtedly this effect of the mirage which occasioned the story of the Phantom Ship at New Haven, and the Flying Dutchman.
     The temperature of Nahant, being moderated by sea-breezes, so as to be cooler in summer and milder in winter, than the main land, is regarded as being highly conducive to health. It is delightful in summer to ramble round this romantic peninsula, and to examine at leisure its interesting curiosities - to hear the waves rippling the colored pebbles of the beaches, and see them gliding over the projecting ledges in fanciful cascades to behold the plovers and sand-pipers running along the beaches, the seal slumbering upon the outer rocks, the white gulls soaring overhead, the porpoises pursuing their rude gambols along the shore, and the curlew, the loon, the black duck and the coot - the brant with his dappled neck, and the oldwife with her strange, wild, vocal melody, swimming gracefully in the coves, and rising and sinking with the swell of the tide. The moonlight evenings here are exceedingly lovely; and the phosphoric radiance of the billows, in dark nights, making the waters look like a sea of fire - exhibits a scene of wonderful beauty.
     [In its more distinguishing features, our sea-shore region suffers little change in the progress of time. In most places, as years roll on, population increases, and the devastating hand of man is constantly changing the aspect of things, so that the admired scenes of one decade of years are known only as pleasant memories in the next. Even here, however, are some evidences of the success of the general conspiracy against nature. The birds, to which Mr. Lewis so often and so fondly alludes, have almost entirely disappeared; and he who would come hither for sea-fowling will be likely to find his only reward in that moral discipline which is the effect of disappointed expectation. A solitary note is now and then heard, it is true; but it is more like the wail of a vexed, spirit than the joyous outpouring of happy life. But the rugged battlements of rock, and the glistening beaches, remain as they were in the days of the early visitors. And above all, old ocean sustains his integrity - whether calmly sleeping in the summer sunshine, raving in the winter storm, or rolling dreamily beneath the ruling moon.]
     But, however delightful Nahant may appear in summer, it is surpassed by the grandeur and sublimity of a winter storm. When the strong east wind has been sweeping over the Atlantic for several days, and the billows, wrought up to fury, are foaming along like living mountains - breaking upon the precipitous cliffs - dashing into the rough gorges - thundering in the subterranean caverns of rock, and throwing the white foam and spray, like vast columns of smoke, hundreds of feet into the air, above the tallest cliffs - an appearance is presented which the wildest imagination cannot surpass. Then the ocean - checked in its headlong career by a simple bar of sand - as if mad with its detention, roars like protracted thunder; and the wild sea birds, borne along by the furious waters are dashed to death against the cliffs! Standing at such an hour upon the rocks, I have seen the waves bend bars of iron, an inch in diameter, double - float rocks of granite, sixteen feet in length, as if they were timbers of wood - and the wind, seizing the white gull in its irresistible embrace, bear her, struggling and shrieking, many miles into Lynn woods! In summer, a day at Nahant is delightful - but a storm in winter is glorious!
     [The grand and picturesque scenery in and about Lynn was early brought to notice, and hither have long been attracted the learned, and the most refined of Nature's devotees. The historian and poet have delighted to wander amid the woods that wave and whisper on our sunny hills, and clamber among the ocean - worn battlements that guard our shores. Within these pleasant borders have they loved to pursue their favorite studies; and, we may fondly believe, some of the most sterling works that adorn the literature of the age have here received the inspiration that the magnificent and beautiful in nature always impart to the cultivated mind. At Nahant, in his picturesque home, just above the resounding arches of Swallow's Cave, Prescott labored on the glowing pages of his Ferdinand and Isabella, and his Conquest of Mexico; and at his residence on Ocean street, in Lynn, he wrote the thrilling chapters of Philip the Second. At Nahant, also, in the modest mansion of Mrs. Hood, in the evening shade of the decrepit willows that yet stand in front of Whitney's tavern, Mottey spent many and many a quiet hour in the preparatory studies of his great History of the Dutch Republic. And the learned Agassiz still delights, year by year, to come hither and in quietude explore the mysterious and contemplate the beautiful in nature. At the unostentatious homestead of Jonathan Johnson, Longfellow produced many of the charming strains of his world-renowned Hiawatha; and there, also, he wrote his Ladder of Saint Augustine. And Willis says, "Some of my earliest and raciest enjoyments, both of driving and writing, were spent at Nahant." Nor should it be forgotten that the learned Felton loved to retire from the halls of Harvard, and here breathe the invigorating air and bathe in the renovating waters. And as he, in declining life, found here a delightful field of recreation, so in youth he found among the rough hills of Saugus, a field of homely toil. In 1815, when a boy, he came, with his father's family, to the corner of Chelsea which belonged, as a parish, to Saugus, the father filling the humble office of toll-gatherer on Newburyport turnpike. In winters, young Felton went to the town schools of Saugus, with one or two exceptions. One winter he attended the school of Miss Cheever, and another, that of Rev. Joseph Emerson. At other times he worked at farming. One season he part of the time rode plough horses at twenty-five cents a day. Subsequently, he went to school, one quarter, to Mr. Thatcher, formerly minister of the first parish of Lynn, who then taught a private school at Maiden. There he studied Latin and read novels till the excitement threw him into a fever that nearly proved fatal. He afterward went one quarter to Bradford Academy. Early in the summer of 1822, he went to Mr. Putnam's, at North Andover, intending to remain only one quarter. But Mr. Putnam, finding him a lad of great promise, urged him, though very poor, to persevere for the attainment of a college education. He struggled on. And we finally behold him the revered head of the first university in the land.]

SHOES AND SHOEMAKING.

     LADIES' SHOES began to be made in Lynn at a very early period; and that business has long been the principal occupation of the inhabitants. Shoemaking is a very ancient and respectable employment, for we read in Homer, of princes manufacturing their own shoes. They have been made of various materials - hides, flax, silk, cloth, wood, iron, silver, and gold - and in great variety of shape, plain and ornamental. Among the Jews they were made of leather, linen, and wood. Soldiers wore them of brass and iron, tied with thongs. To put off the shoes was an act of veneration. The Asiatics and Egyptians wore shoes made of the bark of the papyrus.  Among the Greeks, the shoe generally reached to the mid-leg, like what we now call bootees. Ladies, as a mark of distinction, wore sandals - a sort of loose shoe, something like a modern slipper. Xenophon relates that the ten thousand Greeks, who followed young Cyrus, wanting shoes in their retreat, covered their feet with raw hides, which occasioned them great injury. The Roman shoes were of two kinds - the calceus, which covered the whole foot; and the solea, which covered only the sole, and was fastened with thongs. Ladies of rank wore white, and sometimes red shoes; other women wore black. The shoes of some of the Roman emperors were enriched with precious stones. It was generally regarded as a mark of effeminacy for men to wear shoes. Phocion, Cato, and other noble Romans, had no covering for their feet when they appeared in public. In the ninth and tenth centuries, the greatest princes of Europe wore wooden shoes, or wooden soles fastened with leather thongs. In the eleventh century, the upper part of the shoe was made of leather, and the sole of wood.
     The Saxons wore shoes, or scoh, with thongs. Bede's account of Cuthbert is curious. He says: " When the saint had washed the feet of those who came to him, they compelled him to take off his own shoes, that his feet might also be made clean; for so little did he attend to his bodily appearance, that he often kept his shoes, which were of leather, on his feet for several months together." (Bede, Vit. Cuthbert, p. 243.) [In an old Saxon Dialogue a shoemaker says he makes "swyfflers, sceos, and leather hose."]
     In the Dialogues of Elfric, composed to instruct the Anglo Saxon youth in Latin, we find that the shoemaker had a very comprehensive trade. "My craft is very useful and necessary to you. I buy hides and skins, and prepare them by my art, and make of them shoes of various kinds, and none of you can winter without my craft." Among the articles which he fabricates, he mentions - ancle leathers, shoes, leather hose, bridle thongs, trappings leather bottles, flasks, halters, pouches and wallets. (Turner's Hist. Anglo Saxons, 3, 111.)
     In the year 1090, in the reign of William Rufus, the great dandy Robert was called the horned, because he wore shoes with long points, stuffed, turned up, and twisted like horns. These kind of shoes became fashionable, and the toes continued to increase in extent, until, in the time of Richard II., in 1390, they had attained such an enormous extent as to be fastened to the garter by a chain of silver or gold. The clergy declaimed vehemently against this extravagance; but the fashion continued, even for several centuries. In the year 1463, the Parliament of England passed an act prohibiting shoes with pikes more than two inches in length, under penalties to maker and wearer; and those who would not comply were declared excommunicate. Even at a late period shoes were twice the length of the foot, or so long as "to prevent kneeling in devotion at God's house." In the year 1555, a company of Cordwainers was incorporated in old Boston, England. By their charter, it was ordered, "That no person shall set up, within the said borough, as Cordwainers, until such time as they can sufficiently cut and make a boot or shoe, to be adjudged by the wardens... that if any foreigner, or person who did not serve his apprenticeship in the said borough, shall be admitted to his freedom, he shall then pay to the wardens L3 2s. 8d.... and that no fellow of this corporation, his journeyman or servant, shall work on the Sabbath day, either in town or country." (Thompson's Hist. Boston, Eng., p. 82.)
     Shoes in their present form came into use in the year 1633, a short time after the first settlement of this country. The first shoemakers known at Lynn, were Philip Kertland and Edmund Bridges, both of whom came over in 1635. [For facts concerning them see under that date.] The business gradually increased with the increase of inhabitants; and many of the farmers, who worked in the fields in the summer, made shoes in their shops in the winter. The papers relating to the Corporation of Shoemakers, mentioned by Johnson, in 1651, are unfortunately lost; having probably been destroyed by the mob in 1765. As the first settlers introduced many of their customs from England, the privileges were probably similar to those conferred, in 1555, on the Cordwainers of old Boston.
     The term Cordwainer, as a designation of this craft, has long usurped the place of Ladies' Shoemaker. This word had its origin from Cordova, a city in the south of Spain, where a peculiar kind of leather was manufactured for ladies' shoes. The word in the Spanish is Cordoban; in the Portuguese, Cordovan; and in the French, Cordonan; whence the term Cordouaniers, or Cordwainers. [Cordwinder, by the way, is the shape in which the term appears in the first Colony Charter. The Cordovan leather was tanned and dressed goat skin. Members of the craft are sometimes called Sons of Crispin. And this arose from the honor done the calling by that worthy. Several of the societies of shoemakers, in France and England, early adopted good Crispin as their patron.] In the eighth century, the descendants of Alaric, in revenge at being passed by in the choice of a king, called the Arabians to their aid. They came, and Roderic, the last of the Goths, fell in the seven days battle, at Tarik, in 711. In 756, Abderrhaman made himself master of Spain, and established his caliphate at Cordova. During the Arabian power, agriculture, commerce, the arts and sciences, flourished in Spain; and in that period, the celebrated Cordova leather was introduced. It was similar to what is now known as morocco, and was altogether superior to any thing which had been previously used for the manufacture of ladies' shoes. It was at first colored black, and afterward red, by the use of cochineal.
     [The names of the first two shoemakers in the Massachusetts colony appear in the following extract from the Second General Letter of the Governor and Deputy of the New England Company, dated London, 28 May, 1629, which may be found in the Col. Recs. vol. I, pp. 404, 405. And the extract may prove additionally interesting, as explaining, to some extent, the condition and position of that class of craftsmen. But would not one of our extensive manufacturers now think that the time when divers hydes, both for soles and vpp leathers," with two men to work them "vpp in bootes and shoes," were sufficient for the country, was a day of rather small things? Thomas Beard, a shoomaker, and Isack Rickman, being both recomended to vs by Mr Symon Whetcombe to receive their dyett & houseroome at the charge of the Companie, wee haue agreed they shalbe wth yow, the Gounor, or placed elsewhere, as yow shall thinke good, and receive from yow, or by yor appointmt, their dyett & lodging, for wch they are to pay, each of them, after the rate of 10L p ann. And wee desire to receive a certificate, vnder the hand of whomsoever they shatbe soe dyetted & lodged wth, how long tyme they haue remained wth them, in case they shall otherwise dispose of themselues before the yeare bee expired, or at least wise at the end of eaci yeare, to the end wee may heere receive payment according to the sd agreemt. The said Tho: Beard hath in the shipp the May Flower divers hydes, both for soles and vpp leathers, wch hee intends to make vpp in bootes and shoes there in the country. Wee pray yow let Mr Peirce, the mr of the said shipp, viewe the said leather, & estimate what tonnage the same may import, that soe the said Beard may ether pay vnto yow there after the rate of 4L p tonn for fraight of the same, the like for his dyett if there bee occasion to vse any of his comodities, or otherwise, vpon yor advice, wee may receive it of Mr Whetcombe, who hath promised to see the same discharged. Wee desire also the said Tho: Beard may haue 50 acres of land allotted to him as one that transports himselfe at his owne charge. But as well for him as all others that shall haue land allotted to them in that kinde, and are noe adventurers in the comon stock, wch is to support the charge of ffortyficacons, as also for the ministrie & divers other affaires, wee holde it fitt that these kinde of men, as also such as shall come to inheritt lands by their service, should, by way of acknowledgmt to such from whom they receive these lands; become lyable to the pformance of some service certaine dayes in the yeare, and by that service they and their posteritie after them to hold and inherite these lands, wch wilbe a good meanes to enjoy their lands from being held in capite, and to support the plantaen in genall and peticuler.
     [This extract also gives a glimpse of the nature of the tenure by which it was desired that the class to which Mr. Beard belonged, should hold their lands. There was nothing very democratic in it. Of Isaac Rickman, the other shoemaker who came over in the fleet, nothing seems to be known. He probably returned in a short time. Mr. Beard was made a freeman, 10 May, 1643, and soon after purchased an estate at Strawberry Bank, now Portsmouth, where he probably settled.]
     At the beginning, women's shoes at Lynn, were made of neat's leather, or woolen cloth; only they had a nicer pair, of white silk, for the wedding day, which were carefully preserved, as something too delicate for ordinary use. About the year 1670, shoes began to be cut with broad straps; for buckles which were worn by women at well as by men. In 1727, square-toed shoes, and buckles for ladies, went out of fashion; though buckles continued to be worn by men till after the revolution. The sole-leather was all worked with the flesh side out. In 1750, John Adam Dagyr, a Welchman, gave great impulse and notoriety to the business, by producing shoes equal to the best made in England. From that time the craft continued to flourish, until it became the principal business of the town. Fathers, sons, journeymen, and apprentices, worked together, in a shop of one story in height, twelve feet square, with a fire-place in one corner, and a cutting-board in another. The finer quality of shoes were made with white and russet rands, stitched very fine, with white waxed thread. They were made with very sharp toes, and had wooden heels, covered with leather, from half an inch to two inches in height; called cross-cut, common, court, and Wurtemburgh heels. About the year 1800, wooden heels were discontinued, and leather heels were used instead. [The manufacture of wooden heels was as much a separate business as last making now is. One of the principal factories at which they were turned out was on Boston street. I think they did not go out of use quite so early as would be supposed from the date Mr. Lewis gives.] In 1783, Mr. Ebenezer Breed introduced the use of morocco leather; and at the commencement of the present century, two of the principal shoe manufacturers, were Mr. Amos Rhodes and Col. Samuel Brimblecom.
     Many shoemakers have become eminent. Nilant has a book on shoes. Hans Sack wrote fifty volumes of prose. Bloomfield composed that delightful poem, the Farmer's Boy, while at work on his bench, and wrote it down when he had finished the labor of the day. William Gifford, the editor of the London Quarterly Review, and the translator of Juvenal, served his apprenticeship with a cordwainer. John Pounds, of Portsmouth, while engaged in his daily work, contrived to educate some hundreds of the neighboring children. [Linnaeus, the great botanical classifier, was apprenticed to a shoemaker. And so was David Pareus, the elder, celebrated as professor of theology at Heidelburgh. Benedict Baudouin, one of the most learned men of century 1500, was a shoemaker. And so was Holcraft, author of The Critic.] In our own country, Roger Sherman, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, was a shoemaker; and John G. Whittier left the manufacture of shoes for ladies' feet, to make verses for their boudoirs. [But it would, perhaps, be quite as profitable to cast an observing eye upon those born in our own community, who have risen from the shoemaker's seat to positions conspicuous and honorable. Lynn can present numerous examples most worthy of imitation. It is, however, important to distinguish between those whose claims rest on mere wealth, which is frequently attained by the most ignorant and undeserving, and those who possess that which is really ennobling - between those whose minds expand not beyond the circumference of a dollar and those who, by God's grace, are more richly endowed.]
     Poets, in all ages, have noticed the shoe as an important part of the dress, especially of a lady. Shakspeare bestows an exquisite compliment on the dressing of the foot, when he says
          " Nay- her foot speaks."
Butler, in his Hudibras, makes the hero of that inimitable poem pay his devours to his lady-love, in the following terms -
          "Madam! I do, as is my duty,
          Honor the shadow of your shoe-tie!"
A certain critic, of more learning than good sense, once undertook to bestow an unusual quantity of censure on two of our own lines, in the description of a lady's person -
          "But if one grace might more attention suit,
          It was the striking neatness of her foot."
Now we think that every reader of good taste will agree with us, at least in admiring the idea which these lines are intended to convey.
     Genteel Reader - for I trust I shall have many such- are you aware that you are now perhaps trampling the industry of Lynn beneath your feet! How often are we indebted to those of whom we think least, for many of our most valuable and salutary enjoyments. Look at that young lady, who might be taken by Brackett as a model for one of the graces, reclining in an easy-chair; with her foot upon an ottoman. See the delicate shoe which fits as if it were formed by the hand of Apelles! Shakspeare, in his Romeo and Juliet, says - "I would I were a glove upon that hand!" How often have I wished - " 0, would I were a shoe upon that foot!" Perhaps neither she who displays that elegant foot, nor the many who admire it, think that much of its grace is to be ascribed to some unknown individual on the shores of Lynn. Yet there, by the sound of the rippling waters, are thousands of men employed in manufacturing all manner of outer vestures for the delicate foot, and as many women engaged in binding and trimming them. There the belle of the city may suit both her form and taste with the newest and most delicately formed style, either for the boudoir or ball-room, with its classic shape and its Parisian title - there the rustic maid may procure the laced buskin which shall add a new grace to her modest beauty - and there the mother may find the substantial fabric, adapted to domestic comfort for her own foot; or the soft tissue, with its congenial trimming of gossamer and gold, for the foot of her loved little one. So long as the foot needs to be protected, so long will the manufactures of Lynn continue to flourish.

ANCIENT FERRY -ROADS - IRON WORKS.

      [Conveniences for travel are matters of the first importance in all new settlements. And of course our fathers soon directed their attention to the securing of means for communication between different parts of their own wide-spread plantation and with the adjacent settlements.
     [At times, vigorous discussions have taken place as to the particular course of the early routes from Lynn to Boston. It should be remembered that water communication was much favored by the early settlers, for land journeys over the primitive roads, in such a rough country, were excessively fatiguing, and to an extent dangerous. And besides the obstacles of rock, stump, and quagmire, there long existed an apprehension that ravenous beasts and serpents would dispute the way. An accredited tradition is mentioned in Felt's Annals, to the effect that certain persons from Salem visited Boston soon after its settlement and were four days on the road. On the next Sunday after their return they had a note of thanks, for their safe deliverance from the perils and hardships of the journey, read at the meeting-house. For the crossing of creeks and rivers, and for inconsiderable coast voyaging, the Indian canoes were sufficient; and attention was early called to the construction of shallops suitable for more extended navigation. It is very likely that passengers were taken to Boston from a point in the vicinity of Sagamore Hill, as well as from points as far west as Saugus river. In good weather the passage was pleasant, and with a fair-wind by no means tedious. But a land route must have been very soon established, for the water communication was liable to be interrupted by ice in winter, and rendered hazardous and subject to delays by storms and adverse winds, more or less, at all times. In 1639 the General Court granted to Garret Spencer " the fferry at Linn, for 2 yeares." And this was no doubt a ferry established between Needham's Landing, just below Chase's mill, in Lynn, and Ballard's Landing, in East Saugus, and was a very great convenience for passengers to and from Boston.
     [It is not easy to determine exactly the direction which the first road took. And it is highly probable that before the bridge over Saugus river was built, two or three routes from settled parts of the town, to fording places, existed; nor is it improbable that these were struck out almost simultaneously.
     [I am satisfied, from examination, that one of the most ancient of these routes was along the foot of the hills, north of Boston street. From the northern termination of Federal street it followed Walnut to the bend where Holyoke joins. Thence it proceeded, by Holyoke street, along the margin of what was formerly called Pan Swamp, a comparatively waste territory, though making some pretension to the dignity of a cranberry meadow; but which has been reclaimed and now forms the beautiful interval lying on the north of the street last named. It followed the upland curve, crossed the busy little stream called Beaver Brook, and, passing perhaps a furlong west of the late farm residence of Rev. C. C. Shackford, came out at the point where the road leading to the Saugus woolen factories diverges from the old highway between Lynn and Lynnfield. There this ancient way, without following either of the present roads, kept on to a fording place considerably above the romantic site which was subsequently occupied by the Iron Works, so famous in early colonial history. And from the fording place, it probably swept off for Boston through the vicinage of Maiden and Medford. Into this road, undoubtedly, at different points, other roads from the scattered neighborhoods of Lynn entered. In support of the belief that an ancient and important way pursued the direction here indicated, it may be mentioned that some of the first and most prominent settlers are found to have located along the course. Richard Sadler, one of the very early comers, and who was the first Clerk of the Writs - an official with duties somewhat analogous to those of Town Clerk - lived just at the junction of Walnut and Holyoke streets - the lofty cliff known as Sadler's Rock deriving its name from him. Nicholas Brown, Samuel Bennett, and Adam Hawkes, who were also among the early planters, pitched their tents considerably to the northwest of Mr. Sadler. And it is quite certain that in the territory above the Iron Works there were settlers while the town was in its very infancy. The renowned Thomas Dexter sat himself down there; and the very first deed on our county records is one given by him, in 1639. And furthermore, on a pleasant afternoon during the last autumn, I took an opportunity to examine almost the whole of the route from Holyoke street to the river, and was surprised at the clear evidences of an ancient settled way. Remains of the old wall are clearly distinguishable, on either hand, for considerable distances, and here and there appear sites that bear unmistakable marks of ancient occupancy. It is perfectly plain that it was not a mere cartway, laid out for the convenience of drawing wood. And observation indicates that there may have been a branch diverging from this road, at about the point where Myrtle street intersects Holyoke, running along under the hills, by Oak street, and joining again, perhaps half a mile northwest of the old Dungeon Gate, which was near Henry B. Newhall's farm house; or, possibly, continuing on to another fording place.
     [But there may have been another route to Boston, as early. The present Boston street was a traveled way soon after the settlement commenced. When the traveler struck the river by this route, which he must have done at a point just about where the street now strikes it, if no means were at hand by which he could cross, he pursued his way up, on the eastern side, the road running along the most level upland near the river. At a fording place he crossed, and proceeded on toward Boston, either by coming down on the west side to a point nearly opposite where he turned up, thus making a detour of perhaps three miles, and then following a road along the margin of the salt marshes; or, by taking a broader and more westerly sweep from the fording place.
     [In October, 1631, Governor Winthrop, accompanied by several official dignitaries, left Boston, and traveled "on foot to Saugus, and the next day to Salem, where they were bountifully entertained by Captain Endicott." And the day after "they, returned to Boston by the ford at Saugus river and so over at Mistick."
     [It will be observed in regard to these routes, that they are supposed to have been traveled before the establishment of the Iron Works, which went into operation in 1643. And the bridge at the Boston street crossing was built about four years before. After the bridge was completed, travelers, of course, nearly abandoned the fording places. It is well, also, to bear in mind that the travel, in those days, was quite limited. Attendance on the General Court was one of the chief necessities that called men to the metropolis. While the Iron Works were in operation, which appears to have been, to some extent, till 1683, the road just spoken of as running up the east side of the river, from Boston street, was undoubtedly much used. The manufactured articles, however, were, in all probability, transported chiefly by water; for whoever takes notice of the position in which the Works stood, will at once conclude that convenience for loading the little vessels was a prominent object.
     [So much is said elsewhere in this volume concerning these Iron Works that little should be said here. It is certain that Mr. Lewis felt a very great interest in their history. And, indeed, the public records show that the colonial authorities deemed their establishment a matter of great importance. On the afternoon spoken of, after carefully traversing the route up from Boston street, through the still wild and beautifully diversified region, where one is forced at almost every step to linger and admire, I came to a halt in the romantic vale where the old Works were seated. Borrowing a pickaxe from one at work in the neighborhood I lustily applied it to one of the mounds of scoria, or cinder banks, as they are called. The labor, and object, to be sure, were humble in comparison with those of Layard at Nineveh, but a fact of no little interest was verified. Sufficient mould has accumulated, during these two centuries, to sustain a respectable garniture of grass; but even the casual passer would hardly mistake them for natural hillocks. It is really remarkable that in a neighborhood which has been well populated for generations, so many tons of these relics should remain heaped up, just as the sooty workmen left them two hundred years ago. Certainly scores, and probably hundreds, of tons, of those which remained nearest the river, were, however, removed many years since. They were boated down and sunk at the dam at the Boston steet crossing. It was imagined that they would form the best material for preventing the passage of eels, which are troublesome sappers; but they did not prove to be of much value. Still, as they can easily be removed it may not be long before some other use is found for them. The unsentimental hand of improvement or speculation may be suddenly extended, and in a day scatter them, so that a few years, hence the mining river or delving ploughshare will be looked to for the recovery of specimens wherewith to enrich the cabinets of the curious. Whether the Iron Works were, on the whole, successful, it is not easy to determine; in some respects, they undoubtedly were. A prejudice early arose against them, founded on the singular apprehension that their great consumption of wood might ultimately produce a scarcity of fuel: This will hardly be belived; yet it was so. The undertakers found themselves, from various causes, involved in protracted lawsuits, and a good portion of their profits vanished in the corrosive atmosphere of the courts. Law is expensive as a luxury. And those who freely indulge in it may consider themselves on the high road to ruin. Yet, as a remedial agent, it is occasionally useful if not necessary.
     [These ancient works must have presented a highly picturesque appearance, seated down there between the densely wooded hills, the smoke curling up among the trees, and at night the red glare of the furnace fires streaming over the dark river, lighting up the thickets beyond, and perhaps revealing the dusky form of some skulking Indian or prowling beast; to say nothing of the roving devils which the lively imaginations of our good fathers discovered in every quarter where there were pious men and women to affright and harrass. But the Iron Works were destined before many years to have their final account closed - the clink of the hammer ceased, the fire of the forge went out, and the begrimmed workmen departed.
     [It may be mentioned that there are traditions confirming the existence of the old roads here spoken of. A worthy yeoman who lives on the eastern border of Saugus, with considerable assurance informed me that the ancient mail route lay through the strip of woods running north from Boston street and immediately on the east of Saugus river. He learned this from family tradition. And it is through these woods, it will be observed, that the old roads are supposed to have run, with the exception of the branch by Oak street. It is by no means unlikely that while the Iron Works were in operation, there was considerable correspondence carried on with Boston and Salem; and it is not at all improbable that a post-rider may have pursued that route, delivering letters and retailing news by the way; for it will be remembered that there were no newspapers in America at that time. And when some great historical romancer shall arise, we shall see those ancient post-riders conspicuously figuring.
     [The ferry from Needham's Landing, in Lynn, to Ballard's Landing, in Saugus, has been already mentioned. It must have been a great accommodation, to several neighborhoods, even after the bridge was built. But it does not appear to have been long kept in operation.
     [Perhaps a word should be said regarding the routes eastward. These are not now so easily traced, for reasons that will suggest themselves to the reader. The first, appears to have followed along the foot of the hills, northeasterly, from the end of Federal street, being, in fact, a continuation of that first described as running through Walnut and Holyoke streets. From this, at a later period, a branch ran through the Mineral Spring grounds, and after pursuing a devious course probably joined another road that came in from Salem and Marblehead, through Swampscot and Woodend. By the record book of Salem grants, it appears that that town granted "to Leiftenant davenport about 2 acres of Land lying on the west' side of Butt' brook, not farr from the place where the way goeth over to Lyn." This was in 1638. And Butt Brook took its name from a family of the name of Butt who lived near it. It is now called Tapley's Brook.
     [It would he interesting to say something of the highways as they appeared in succeeding years. But perhaps sufficient will appear in the following pages. Our roads, at the present time, are quite famous for their excellence, being broad, level, and hard. And should one of the old settlers be permitted to arise and perambulate them, how would he be astonished at their perfection and at the elegance of the edifices that adorn them. But more than all would he be astonished at the variety and style of the vehicles by which they are traversed, and the multitudes of the merry sons and daughters of his sedate contemporaries who in strange and extravagant apparel throng them. It would be interesting, too, to trace the progress of improvement in the modes of travel, were there not so many other matters of seemingly more importance pressing forward for notice. Going back to the time when wheeled carriages were hardly known here for purposes of mere travel, we might see the old gentleman sally forth upon the back of plodding dobbin, with the good dame seated upon her pillion behind him. And years after, when population had increased sufficiently to induce public-spirited individuals to establish conveyances for the convenience of the public and their own profit, might be seen awkward and rickety vehicles lumbering along, at protracted and uncertain intervals, and at a pace, extraordinarily rapid for the time, perhaps, but yet such as would lead the ambitious pedestrian of our day to decline their services, if he were in haste. Still further on appears the jolly stage-coach, which, for so many years, held its supremacy - at first an unseemly and uncomfortable affair, literally a "slow coach " - and then, light, tasty and as rapidly moving as emulous horses and aspiring Jehus could make it. What a bright spot will the stage-coach occupy in history - what a bright spot does it already occupy in poetry and romance. But the rail-road came, and with a triumphant whistle drove it from the track. A day of reckoning, however, may be in store for that arrogant intruder. Its gilded sides and velvet cushions, its sleeping and its smoking cars, may not be competent to save it from a mortifying end through the agency of some yet uninvented traveling machine - some wonderful offspring of art and science, that will exultingly send it screaming away to that oblivious depot whither are dispatched all the used-up things of earth.
     [Hardly any thing has a more direct and material effect on the prosperity of a place than the public ways. And we often see how suddenly and essentially the laying out of a new way affects a particular neighborhood. All sections of Lynn had a sprinkling of inhabitants at an early period. But for more than a hundred and fifty years, or till the opening of the turnpike between Boston and Salem, in 1803, Boston street remained the great thoroughfare. Here was the principal public house, and the post-office; here resided most of the leading citizens, and here the chief business was done. But when the turnpike was completed, the scene changed, and population and business began to concentrate at other points. The post-office was removed to the southern end of Federal street, and the Common and eastern sections were favorably affected. And the present generation very well remember how materially the construction of the steam rail-road, in 1838, operated in building up some neighborhoods and damaging the prosperity of others - how rapidly, for instance, it made the old stone walls in the vicinity of Central Square disappear and cow pastures and gardens come in requisition for building lots. It is fit to allude to these matters in this connection, though in view of what will hereafter be said, no extended remarks are required. Almost the whole history of a place is involved in a history of its public ways.]

PECULIAR CUSTOMS AND DOINGS IN RELIGIOUS MATTERS.

     Among the early settlers of Lynn were some persons of high reputation, and most of them appear to have been men of good character, and of comfortable property. There is no evidence that any of them had abandoned the Church, or been persecuted for their opinions, with the exception of the Rev. Stephen Bachiler, and the few persons in his connection. Governor Winthrop, who came over with them, begins his journal on "Easter Monday," which Mr. Savage says was 'duly honored;" and it is not until nearly five years after, that we catch a glimpse of his Puritanism, when he begins to date on the "eleventh month."
     The great body of the first settlers of Massachusetts were members of the Church of England. After they had gone aboard the ships, they addressed a letter " To the rest of their brethren in and of the Church of England," in which they say: "We desire you would be pleased to take notice of the principals and body of our Company, as those who esteem it our honor to call the Church of England, from whence we rise, our dear Mother: and cannot depart from our native country where she specially resideth, without much sadness of heart, and many tears in our eyes; ever acknowledging that such hope and part as we have obtained in the common salvation, we have received it from her bosom." Prince, who stands in the first rank of our historians, says: "They had been chiefly born and brought up in the national Church, and had, until their separation, lived in communion with her; their ministers had been ordained by her bishops, and had officiated in her parish churches, and had made no secession from her uintil they left their native land." The author of the Planter's Plea, printed in 1630, says: "It may be with good assurance maintained, that at least three parts out of four, of the men there planted, are able to justify themselves to have lived in alconstant course of conformity unto our Church government." Morton, in his Memorial says, when the ministers were accused, "They answered for themselves; they were neither separatists nor anabaptists; they did not separate from the Church of England, nor from the ordinances of God there; and the generality of the people did well approve of the ministers' answer." Backus, who had no partiality for the Church, but who could, nevertheless, speak the truth, says: "The governor and company of the Massachusetts colony held communion with the national church, and reflected on their brethren who separated from her." Mr. Hubbard, who was well acquainted with many of them, says: "They always walked in a distinct path from the rigid separatists, nor did they ever disown the Church of England to be a true church." The Puritans of Plymouth colony, were the " rigid separatists," and they continued a separate government until the year 1692. Some historians have confounded these facts, and thus misled their readers.
     [Had Mr. Lewis thoroughly examined and maturely considered this subject, I am sure he would not have left the foregoing just as it is; for without explanation it is likely to lead the mind of the reader who is not acquainted with the ecclesiastical history of the times in some of its minuter details, to an erroneous conclusion. Does it not appear as if he would have it understood that the settlers, generally, were Episcopalians, or Churchmen, in the sense now given to those terms? And that being so, would it be impertinent to ask how it happened that they made no attempt to establish a churchly mode of worship here, but immediately set about forming Congregational societies on the broadest principles of Independency - how it happened that they rejected the liturgy of the Church and prohibited by law some of her cherished observances? They gloried in the name of Puritan as distinguishing from Churchman. They levied taxes for the support of Congregational worship. They enacted a law forbidding that any one not in regular standing with some Congregational church should be entitled to vote or even be permitted to take the freeman's oath. They re-ordained, according the Congregational form, some who had received Episcopal ordination at home, and persecuted the few ministers of the Church who from time to time appeared among them and refused to recant their Episcopal vows. It is true, that in the outset there was a marked difference between the Plymouth and Massachusetts settlers. But that difference had been obliterated long before the political union of 1692. And an accomplished historian, says that "wherever the Independents possessed power, as in New England, they showed themselves to be as intolerant as any of their opponents." If all the inhabitants of Lynn, excepting Mr. Bachiler and his six adherents, were Episcopalians, how happened it that they at once zealously lent him their aid in forming the church here? Good Churchmen would as soon have thought of fraternizing with Hugh Peters as Mr. Bachiler. His ardent temperament and remembered wrongs led him to manifest such envenomed opposition to the Church that it is not clearly seen how her devout children could have been attracted to his fold.
     [But our difficulties will very much lessen if we bear in mind the fact that there for some time existed in the Church itself a considerable Puritan element - that Episcopacy, even, for a time was not made a test that some high ecclesiastics were inclined to a Presbytery, and others to Independency or Congregationalism. Nor was it till the vigorous arm of Laud interposed that the integrity of the Church was restored. At the time the Massachusetts emigration commenced there were many decided Puritans in the Church, some of the more sanguine of whom had probably once hoped to Puritanize her, and who were yet fond of calling her their "dear mother." They had not been oppressed, and had no ground for complaint. Many of these came over with the "rigid separatists." And were it not in accordance with the recognized tendency of the human mind to proceed to extremes when it recedes from an established order, we might well be astonished at the apparent delight some of them took, when safely here, in heaping indignities upon the very name of their "dear mother." It will be instructive to those who have never given this subject much attention, to present an illustration or two of their seeming disposition to proceed as far as they decently could in raising and fostering prejudices against the Church.
     [The Church had always observed Christmas as the most noteworthy festival of the year - it was the anniversary of the natal day of the great founder of our faith - the anniversary of an event which the very angels of heaven came down to celebrate - those sinless spirits whose majestic anthem rang over the starlit plains of Judea, and being taken up by the Church had been continued on through all the centuries. But her "children" here in these western wilds thought fit to turn their backs upon her holy example. They went to the extent of forbidding, by law, the observance of Christmas. Whoever abstained from his ordinary labor on that day, subjected himself to the liability of being punished for a misdemeanor.
     [The Church regarded matrimony as a religious rite. They did not elevate it to the position of a sacrament but invested it with a peculiar sanctity. But in Massachusetts, from an early date, ministers were not allowed to perform the wedding ceremony. Magistrates and special appointees alone could discharge the agreeable duty. It was not till 1686 that the present custom of authorizing ministers to solemnize marriages became established. Reducing it to the incidents of a mere civil contract was no doubt the occasion of divers evils. And it is not remarkable that the effect was so long felt that even in 1719 the Boston ministers testified that weddings were times of "riotous irregularities."
     [The prayers for the dead and the whole burial service of the Church were solemn and affecting. But our good fathers would not have even prayers at funerals. The first time that such a thing occurred in the colony, appears to have been in August, 1685; and the funeral was that of Rev. Mr. Adams of Roxbury. And the distasteful custom was of very slow growth. I have, indeed, seen it somewhere stated that a prayer was never made at a funeral in Boston, before 1766; meaning, of course, among such as adhered to puritanical principles. It could not, however, have been exactly so, for a Boston newspaper, printed in 1730, speaking of the funeral of Mrs. Sarah Byfield says, "Before carrying out the corpse, a funeral prayer was made by one of the pastors of the Old Church, which, though a custom in the country towns, is a singular instance in this place, but it is wished may prove a leading example to the general practice of so Christian and decent a custom." There was a law passed in 1727 forbidding funerals on Sundays, excepting in extraordinary cases, or by special leave. These things show how little sanctity our Puritan fathers attached to the burial of the dead. And, following upon this, it is found that, especially during the first half of the last century, there was often great parade made at funerals, particularly those of the rich. Gloves, gold rings, hat-bands, and mourning scarfs, were frequently presented to those in attendance. Near friends acted as bearers, carrying the body on a bier on the shoulders, there being relays as occasion required. In the procession males and females did not walk together, but those of the sex of the deceased walked nearest the remains. Officers with staffs and mourning badges accompanied the procession. On the return from the grave, a liberal entertainment was served, at which wines and intoxicating liquors, pipes and tobacco were freely provided. And too often the drinking led to shameful rioting. Could they have been guilty of such proceedings had they first engaged in the solemn services appointed by the Church for such affecting occasions? Lechford, writing in 1641, says: "At burials, nothing is read, nor any funeral sermon made, but all the neighborhood, or a good company of them, come together by tolling of the bell, and carry the dead solemnly to his grave and there stand by him while he is buried. The ministers are most commonly present." This was written before the more extravagant customs began to prevail. But a most remarkable thing about it is how those good old divines who, if they had a passion it was for delivering sermons, could have let such golden opportunities pass unimproved.
     [And this leads to a remark or two concerning public worship. The Church considered the sermon, that being merely the expression of one man's views of religious truth and duty, as of minor importance - a mere appendage to the worship. The reading of the Scriptures, the prayers, the psalms, the anthems, the solemn litany, formed the important part of the services. At first, indeed, the sermons were not delivered during the hours of worship, but at different times, of which notice was given. And though it was censurable not to attend worship, absence at sermon-time was no ground for formal complaint - excepting, perhaps, in the mind of the preacher himself. But those docile children of that "dear mother," when they found themselves safe in this western Canaan just reversed matters. They made the sermon the leading feature at the sanctuary, which they preferred to call a meeting-house, rather than a church, and reduced the little semblance of worship they retained, to a mere appendage to the sermon. The Congregational societies of the present day have widely departed, in almost every respect, from the usages of those of earlier time. But is it not true that, as a general rule, they still adhere to the old way of giving the sermon an undue prominence - of making their sanctuaries rather houses of preaching than houses of prayer or places of worship? Without a liturgy, it is perhaps difficult, if not impossible, to satisfactorily obviate this. It seems almost necessarily to follow from the Congregational mode - from all modes where the extemporary element prevails and the worship cannot be responsive. A new order of things seems, however, to be slowly coming about. Some societies, feeling a pressing need, have recently instituted the vesper service, as it is called, and a few others have actually adopted liturgies.
     [It appears by a writer who will presently be quoted, that they did not always have even a prayer at their Sunday services. And the Bible was not read. Such a thing as the reading of the Bible in a New England Congregational meeting-house was hardly known before the first part of the last century, save in a few instances, where the ministers, having been bred in the Church, could not bring their minds at once to dispense with what they had been taught was a matter of the first importance. As early as 1699, however, Rev. Mr. Colman, of Boston, read it in his church. And he even repeated the Lord's prayer, after an introductory one of his own. But many were strongly prejudiced against his innovations. The Ratio Discipline says that in 1726, the practice of reading the sacred volume had obtained in many churches without giving offence. It does not appear when the Scriptures began to be read in the church at Lynn. But the First Church of Salem adopted the custom in 1736. It was not, however, till many years after, that the other churches of that place followed her good example - the Tabernacle in 1804 and the South Church in 1806. The neighboring church of Medford, in 1759, voted "to read the Scriptures in the congregation." Mr. Holmes thus remarks, 1720, in relation to the discontinuance of the reading of the Bible at public worship by the Puritan churches: "Why this practice should be discontinued by any of the disciples of Jesus, I see no reason. I am persuaded it cannot be alleged to be any part of our reformation from popish superstition." But what other reason had they to allege excepting, perhaps, that their "dear mother" made almost continuous use of the sacred Word in her services?
     [The Church had always deemed it honorable to have her sanctuaries in as impressive and beautiful a style of architecture as circumstances would allow, and so appointed as to impart to the mind a due sense of the sanctity of God's house. This, besides showing a becoming respect for sacred things, was surely to be approved; for the loftiest impressions are perhaps as often conveyed to the mind through the medium of the sight as any other sense. And the proprieties of the sacred precincts were carefully looked to. Kneeling was the required attitude in prayer. The music was that best adapted to inspire devotional feelings and accord with the passing season. The solemn measures of the Lenten days and the joyous Easter strains were calculated to lead the devout mind to contemplations the most fruitful of spiritual good. The ancient chants which, century after century, had formed a stirring portion of the service, swelled, in concert with the deep organ harmony, through the cathedral arches and in the humble church upon the village green. And the chimes from her gray towers called many a wandering thought from the cares and vexations of the world to rest and holy meditation. But with what eye did those severely matter-of-fact Puritan settlers view these things - things that their "dear mother" deemed important adjuncts in sustaining the religious character in her children? They would not recognize the forty Lenten days, but instituted, by civil appointment, an annual fast of a single day; and Easter became an unknown season. The organ was to them an instrument of heathenish device, and chanting an old mummery. At prayer, instead of humbly kneeling, they stood ostentatiously erect. Their meeting-houses, even where means were abundant, were but rude structures, often surmounted by some strange image, as if in mockery of the cross, that emblem with which the Church so loved to adorn her consecrated edifices. And they viewed with disdain attempts to reach the heart in other ways than by reasoning unadorned.
     [There is a merry New England ballad in a collection published at London, in 1719, edited by T. D'Urfey, which contains a sort of running commentary on some of the Puritan customs, in matters such as we have been considering; though the piece is thought by Dr. Harris to be much older than the date of its publication in that collection. It was evidently written by a good natured Churchman who viewed things with an understanding eye; and we extract as follows:
          Well, that Night I slept till near Prayer time,
          Next Morning I wonder'd to hear no Bells chime;
          At which I did ask, and the Reason I found,
          'Twas because they had ne'er a Bell in the Town.

          At last being warned, to Church I repairs,
          Where I did think certain we should have some Pray'rs;
          But the parson there no such matter did teach,
          They scorn'd to Pray, for all one could Preach.

          The first thing they did, a Psalm they did Zing,
          Ise pluck'd out my Psalm-Book I with me did bring;
          And tumbled to seek him'cause they caw'd him by's name,
          But they'd got a new Zong to the Tune of the same.

          When Sermon was ended, was a child to baptise,
          'Bout Zixteen years old, as Volks did zurmise;
          He had neither Godfather nor Godmother, yet was quiet and still,
          But the Priest durst not cross him, for fear of ill will.

          Ah, Sirrah, thought I, and to Dinner Ise went,
          And gave the Lord Thanks for what he had sent.
          Next day was a Wedding, the Brideman my Friend
          Did kindly invite me, so thither Ise wend.

          But this, above all, me to wonder did bring,
          To see Magistrate marry them, and had ne'er a Ring;
          Ise thought they would call me the Woman to give,
          But I think the Man stole her, they ask'd no man leave.
     [But it must be highly gratifying to the Churchman of this day to observe how many of the old prejudices against his revered mother have disappeared. Who, now, even among the sons of the staunchest Puritan settlers is disposed to cast contempt upon her fervid outpourings at the joyous Christmastide? Who is not ready to commend her efforts to keep the glad sound of the gospel constantly ringing in every ear? And who, even, is not ready to concede that she possesses a liturgy and order worthy of the warmest affections of the Christian heart.
     [Notwithstanding the apparent belief of Mr. Lewis that the first settlers of Lynn, with the exception of about half a dozen, were devout Churchmen, it is yet true that the Church was of very slow growth here. No attempt was made to gather a congregation, till 1819. And the small number who then called themselves of the fold presently dispersed and joined other worshiping bodies. And how is it even now, when we have become a city of more than twenty thousand people? Why, we have one Church - St. Stephen's - numbering not above a hundred communicants, and a Chapel - St. Andrew's - which is open only in the warm season, for the accommodation of nonresidents. If the great body of the settlers had been Episcopalians a different state of things might rationally have been expected.
     [Indeed, notwithstanding the professed reverence of those early comers for their "dear mother," the Episcopal Church. was of slow growth in all parts of New England, the prejudices against her constantly exhibiting themselves. Rev. William Blaxton, an Episcopal clergyman, was the first Christian settler of Boston. He sat down there, solitary and alone, in 1625 or '6. He was a man of great learning, and seems to have been fond of retirement and study. In or about the year 1634 he removed to the vicinity of Providence, and died 26 May, 1675, having made no apparent impression in favor of his cherished faith, though he had the fame of having been bred at Emanuel, which was called the Puritan college. Moses Brown, in one of his manuscript letters, says: "Rev. Mr. Blackstone, an Episco. sold the land of Boston, in 1631, and removed to Blaxton River and settled six miles north of Providence and Rehoboth. He had a great library, was a great student. There is a hill now called Study Hill, on which he loved to walk for contemplation. He rode his bull, for want of a horse, to Boston and Providence, to Smith's in Narragt. He sometimes came to Providence and preached there; the first time to one man, two women, and a number of children whom he invited and collected around him by throwing apples to them." This was certainly preaching under difficulties. But the devoted ministers of the Church here, at that period, were subjected to many such experiences. Gov. Dudley, as late as 1702, writes that there are in "Massachusetts, or New England, seventy thousand souls, in seventy towns, all Dissenters, that have ministers and schools of their own persuasion, except one congregation of the Church of England, at Boston, where there are two ministers." And Rev. George Keith, who was the first missionary sent over here by the Church of England "Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts," and whose appearance at Lynn, where he gave vigorous battle to the Quakers, will be noticed under date 1702, says, writing at about the same time Dudley wrote, "There is no Church nor Church of England school eastward of the province of New York, viz: Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts Bay, Plymouth, and New Hampshire, except at Boston, where there is one Church, consisting of a large congregation, having two ministers, Mr. Myles and Mr. Bridge, and one in Rhode Island, consisting of a large congregation and one minister, viz: Mr. Lockier, and another in Braintry, which has no minister." Such was the prosperity of the Church, in New England, about three quarters of a century after the emigrants "with much sadness of heart and many tears" in their eyes, began to arrive hither from the land where their "dear mother" specially dwelt.
     [That the Church of England, as a branch of the government, was guilty of persecution, in some instances, may not be denied. But the Episcopal Church, when established here, was divested of temporal power; and has stood as free from any just charge of attempting to tyrannize as any Christian body ever known upon the American continent.
     [Let it not be said, however, that the Puritans accomplished little or no good. They restored much of the excellent that had been lost among the lumber of the dark, superstitious, and infidel ages. They gave to the Christian world, it may almost literally be said, a Sabbath. For before their time the Lord's day had been regarded as a festival, instituted by the early, Christians in commemoration of the Resurrection. But they, while at home, in the bosom of their "dear mother," and here, with their backs turned upon her, persisted in investing the day with all the sanctity and incidents of the day proclaimed holy amid the lightnings of Sinai. And they succeeded in leading the Church herself to adopt their views. And in this country, at this day, no body of Christians is more careful in the observance of the Lord's day as a Sabbath than the Episcopal Church. And did not the Puritans, here, with an energy and wisdom unknown before, address themselves to the intellectual culture of mankind, establishing schools in every quarter, where to the poor as well as the rich were dispensed the inestimable blessings of education? Let us not unduly magnify their errors - let us not eternally discourse about their hanging Quakers, persecuting Baptists and pressing witches - but rather let us honor ourselves by imitating their sterling integrity and endeavoring to perpetuate the noble institutions they founded.]



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