towns, some of which had been nearly destroyed in King Philip's War, but which now were restored and prosperous. As one result, fear of the Indian, which must have darkened the experience of the former generations, had passed away. The means of communication had become more direct and easy; so that we read of trips from Boston to Concord and back in one day made with apparent ease. In short, it had ceased to be a little hamlet "right up in the woods." It was a busy town, interlocked by mutual interests with other towns. The population had largely increased, and could have scarcely been less than twelve hundred and fifty souls. Only one church in the town, none of its suburbs, Bedford, Acton, Lincoln, Carlisle, having as yet set up for themselves, in few periods of her history have so many people fallen to the care of one minister. The resources had increased in like proportion. Many things indicate this. Rude huts had been replaced by comfortable homes. The year 1711 saw the completion of what may be called the first permanent place of worship. The church of 1635 could hardly have been more than a rough log house. That of 1667 was either so hastily built, or of such unseasoned timber, that in 1709 it was going to decay. But the house of 1711 was built to last. Each generation has tried its hand at improving it; but the stanch frame abides. One more evidence of enlarging resources may be noted. That curious habit of collecting from each family its little portion of grain, with which to pay in part the minister, ceased upon the death of Mr. Estabrook. His successor not only received a larger stipend, but he received it all in cash. Thus in all outward ways the town and the church were firmly established. In numbers, in resources, in means of communication, in sense of

security, in enjoyment of comfort, there was manifest growth. It remained for the future to tell how much growth there had been in grace, how much diffusion of that divine charity by which they should walk together in peace and mutual helpfulness.

THE CHURCH IN CONCORD:

ITS PERIOD OF PERSONAL AND THEOLOGICAL DISSENSION.

PAPER READ IN THE MEETING-HOUSE OF THE FIRST PARISH IN CONCORD, MARCH 8, 1891.

THE

HE turning point in our Massachusetts history is found in that period between the years 1683 and 1692 when the Puritan Commonwealth lost its old charter and received a new one. For more than half a century all power, political, religious, and even social, had been in the hands of what were styled the freemen of the Colony. And who were these freemen? The Colonial Record of 1631 reads thus: "To the end, that the body of commons may be preserved of honest and good men, it is ordered and agreed, that, for the time to come, no man shall be admitted to the freedom of the body politic, but such as are members of some of the churches within the limits of the same." By this enactment the Puritan church obtained control over every department of life, and used it. The power to vote, to hold office, to make laws, to execute them, to decide who should or should not dwell in the land, was all in the hands of a body of people who were estimated in the latter part of the seventeenth century to number hardly one fifth of the adult males in the community. Palfrey says, "The freemen of the Massachusetts Colony had the right to expel from their territory all persons who should give them trouble. In their corporate capacity they were owners of Massachu

setts by a title to all intents as good as that by which any freeholder among them had held his English farm." The experience of Mrs. Hutchinson, Roger Williams, and others, testifies that they had the will to maintain what they held to be their rights. Men might think, but they could not speak, contrary to the ordinances. Religious differences might exist in the secret of the heart, but all expression of them was stifled. All amusements contrary to Puritan standards, all criticism of powers in church or state, were remorselessly punished. Here was a theocracy, pure, stern, without charity for minds that craved freedom and dreamed of progress.

Now all changes. The Charter of William and Mary in many ways curtailed the independence of the Colonists. But under it the widest differences of religious faith were tolerated. To the chagrin of the elders right in Boston, the Episcopalian, the Baptist, the Arminian, was permitted to rear his place of worship and enjoy it. The seat of authority too had shifted. The franchise was no longer confined to church members, but became the privilege of nearly every male inhabitant.

Meanwhile other changes, which could not perhaps be traced directly to any alteration of the fundamental law, had more slowly, but just as surely, come. The years from 1675 to 1725 have been called the dark age of education in New England. The fathers were many of them the fruit of England's best culture. The children, in their rude struggle with nature and the savage, could not hold on to the refinements. What was true of education was just as true of religion. The fervor of the zealot had passed away. Whitefield said it had sunk "into heartless formality." Sometimes it

was undermined by scepticism, and was hardly a form. Even the standards of morality seem to have been lowered somewhat. The celebrated Jonathan Edwards, describing the Northampton of his day, says, "The people, in general, I suppose, are as sober and orderly and of as good a sort as in any part of New England." Then he goes on to paint a picture of the disorderly, drinking, licentious habits of the young people of both sexes, which simply shocks you. Hutchinson affirms that the amount of this deterioration was greatly exaggerated by the severe ideas of ascetic Calvinists. Probably he was right. Still, the religious divisions. and the moral retrogression were no doubt as real as the increasing desire for spiritual freedom and a more humane religion. The long, peaceful, and moderate ministry of Mr. Bulkeley and Mr. Estabrook had kept these things from coming much to the surface of Concord church life. But the ferment was there, ready to become active. This sketch of the conditions of life in the larger community explains the conditions of life which so soon manifested themselves in smaller communities.

November 19, 1711, John Whiting was called to fill the vacancy caused by the death of Mr. Estabrook, and on the 14th of the succeeding May was ordained. His ministry opened in sunshine; it closed in darkness. All the more is it needful that we should inquire who and what the man was. John Whiting was of strong Puritan stock. For forty years his father had been honored pastor of Southampton, Long Island. His mother was daughter of Deputy Governor Thomas Danforth of Massachusetts. His grandfather was Rev. Samuel Whiting, who for forty-three years was the