we know that compression as well as heat is the source of that vast engine's power. Even the very coal, that is its food, would have passed off in powerless gases, if mountains had not overlaid the decomposing forests. In like manner, by the enforced habit of repression and calmness, energy was stored up in our very fibres, till steam was needed for a revolution that was, in some degree, to equalize the condition of men.

Even in the trivial early legislation of Roxbury the principle is manifested that men were expected to restrain themselves. Men were not to be softly helped to Heaven by the removal of temptation. The nettle, danger, was to be boldly grasped and crushed by self-control. The muscles of moral nature were called into strong exercise by exposure to temptation and punishment for a fall.

For examples: the Deputy Governor, writing to the Countess of Lincoln, praises the excellence of the water, gravely adding, "untill wine and beare canne be had; to which end he said they proposed the next season to use the wild grapes.

At a Court held March 4, 1633, "It is ordered that Robert Coles, for drunkenes, by him comitted at Roxbury, shall be disfranchised, weare about his necke, and soe to hange upon his outward garm1, a D made upon redd cloath and sett upon white: to contynue this for a yeare, and not to leave it of att any tyme when he comes amongst company," etc.; and "to wear the D outward." But the instances are many where parties are allowed to "draw wine" or "beare," or to sell strong water.

Yet the Puritans dreaded excitements.

There was a con

siderable disarming of certain religionists. Among those disarmed, five Roxbury men are ordered to give up all their arms, powder, shot and match, lest as disciples of Mr. Wheelwright and Mrs. Hutchinson, they may "upon some revelation make some suddaine irruption upon those that differ from them in judgment." Our fathers feared a "revelation" more than rum.

While repressing the slightest outbreak of intolerance in others, that generation "tyed to the cart tayle,” stripped, and whipped, with from ten to twenty stripes, through the towns of Boston, Roxbury and Dedham, poor wretches, indicted for being Quakers, and not saying even "Yea" or "Nay" to the Court. It is no wonder that a Quaker quietly vented his feelings by a tract entitled, "A sigh of sorrow for the sinners of Zion, breathed out of a hole in the wall of an earthly vessel, known among men by the name of Samuel Fish."

The stern repression of feeling in that fervid age cannot be better marked than by the fact that such a scene of torture took place in Roxbury street before the doors of the most angelic man of the time, the second pastor of this church; of whose tender charity it is related that, because he could not easily untie the knots of the handkerchief, in which the good town treasurer had purposely tied up the pastor's salary, to prevent him from giving it away before he should reach his own somewhat destitute home, the pastor gave it - handkerchief and all—to a poor woman, saying, with tears and trembling accents, “Here! Take it, my dear! I believe the Lord designs it all for you.'

The town treasurer is not the first or last man who

has defeated his own benevolent intentions by tying up funds too tightly. Nor do I wonder that the pastor's heart was lighter, if he always received his salary in the form indicated by a town receipt of April 8, 1673:

"Received of Colo. Williams, of the Feoffees of the Grammar School, a Bag of Coppers, weight, thirty-four pounds, in part of my salary for the year current, the same being by estimation, £4. 13. 4. lawful money, and for which I am to be accountable.

"I say, received in part.

"JOHN ELIOT."

One wonders how, in an age of stern repression of all æsthetic elements, Eliot's beautiful charity could bloom. Men were forced up to religious observance under its most unattractive form. To warm a church was deemed a wile of the devil. The first little church upon this hill had neither shingie, plaster, gallery, pew nor spire. Its benches were plain; and to make it as little like Paradise as possible, the men and women sat apart!

One of the sternest of polemical divines, the Rev. Thomas Welde, of Tirling, in Essex, England, "after many imparlances and days of humiliation by those of Roxbury, to seek the Lord, for Mr. Welde his disposing," was ordained first pastor in July, 1632. Of resolute non-conformity, though educated at Trinity College, Cambridge, England, he had excited Bishop Laud's anger. Thomas Shepard says he and Welde and others, speaking one day of Laud, "consulted whether it was best to let such a swine root up God's plants in Essex, and not to give him some check." Mr.

Welde, thereupon, soon found an officer of the law after himself. He came to America, and, as pastor, exhorted and ruled ten years, when he returned to England with Hugh Peters, the Regicide Judge. When I reflect that Mr. Welde called the virtuous and half-inspired Anne Hutchinson The American Jezebel," because of her peculiar views about "grace" and "works" and the "Holy Ghost," though he might have borrowed the phrase from Josselyn, I think an "exhortation" in his roughest style of piety must have been a little like a drum-head court martial. But no one who would understand the intellectual and moral fibre of the Roxbury men, who a hundred and thirty years later applied inexorable logic to their chartered rights, and calmly pressed Parliament and King backward to the solemn end of battle, can overlook or easily overrate the probable effect of such honest and inexorable ministrations for ten years, in an age when a calm face veiled spiritual agonies, and the gospel of peace was the skirmish line of a war that brought Charles I. to the scaffold. The stern mental influence of Mr. Welde over this people probably continued after he went with Hugh Peters to England.

His correspondence undoubtedly continued to his death, in 1662. But, if it did not, his colleague, John Eliot, a man whose sixty years of pastorate were an example of quiet courage and intense purpose, supplied his place in educating men to the calm pursuit of a determined end. He, too, was polemic enough to confront Mrs. Hutchinson and her supporters. He taught two generations of the men whom our "revolutionary sires" called their " Puritan ances

tors." With infinite toil translating the Bible into a language without an alphabet, he then went out into the forest, with a heart as tender as a woman and as brave as the lion of Judah.

The five nations could place near twenty thousand warriors in battle before the earlier New England settlements; and a formidable array remained. King Philip, who refused to treat with any but " my Brother King Charles of England," and detested the white man, told Eliot that he did not care a button for the Gospel." But Eliot went on as if the words of Isaiah were thundered in his ear, << FEAR NOT, thou worm Jacob! For I the Lord thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, FEAR NOT! I will help thee!"

wars.

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It is sad to think that Eliot's Indian policy would have saved poor Custer's life and prevented most of our Indian Mr. Eliot would never have made the Indian a fiend, and then whined over a fair, square Indian fight and terrible victory as a massacre.” He thought that one "season of hunting" undid his missionary work. He would have the Indians forced into some kind of civil society, and taken from their wild ways of living. One season of hunting makes them complete Indians." Our Congress has begun

at the wrong end.

Like all enthusiastic men who live much with nature, he had some comical notions. And one of them illustrates that one feature of the age, which so much affected the logical men who in 1765 tried the claims of Parliament by the square and level of chartered rights. It was a logical age. The sermons and discussions were lessons in acute