In New England the church and township were inseparable, their members being for the most part Congregationalists. In the early days a body of believers simply entered into a Church covenant and that was all. The methods of worship were somewhat peculiar, and it is asserted that for sixty years these Puritans had no marriage or funeral ceremonies. Throughout all the colonies there was the principle that the members of the church must support their minister, and in 1637 Massachusetts issued an order to that effect. In 1650 Connecticut and in 1657 Plymouth did the same. The Churches were separate in their governance, and the synods of United Churches held at Boston in 1646, 1657, and 1662 were not viewed with entire favour by all the congregations. At first, as has already been shown, the Puritans were the most intolerant of people, and tried to enforce the law that a freeman must be a member of the Church. Gradually, however, this fanatic flame burnt itself out, and by the end of the seventeenth century the intensity of feeling on matters of Church and toleration began to relax. Fifty years later there were men in Massachusetts and elsewhere who blushed for shame at the harsh bigotry of their grand-parents, and one writer is able to say "at present the Congregationalists of New England may be esteemed among the most moderate and charitable of Christian professions."[221] Nevertheless even in that eighteenth century there was no lack of factions and parties, and this was intensified by the preaching of George Whitefield in 1739. He certainly created a religious revival amongst the dissenters, but at the same time his words drove many of the Independents into the arms of the Church of England, which, though by no means welcomed in Massachusetts, had long been tolerated in Connecticut. Even after this event, however, the Established Church never really succeeded in the colonies, for there was no colonial episcopate, and it was regarded as doing little or nothing for spiritual life. In 1758, Archbishop Thomas Seeker urged manfully "the establishment of Bishops of our Church in America,"[222] but it was too late, and the fear of such an establishment was a main cause of uneasiness in New England at the outbreak of the War of Independence.
The lack of unanimity in the religious question does not seem to have existed with regard to education. Unlike the southern and middle colonies, the Puritans from the outset encouraged the education of the young with praiseworthy enthusiasm. This owed its origin to several circumstances, not the least being the fact that so many men from the two ancient Universities emigrated during the period 1630 to 1640. The foundation of Harvard, as already mentioned,[223] did something to encourage teaching. In 1640, Rhode Island, with extraordinary promptitude, established public education, but without any definite system. Seven years later, Massachusetts went further still by creating elementary schools in small villages of fifty householders, and grammar schools in the larger and more populous towns. The same was done in Connecticut; but curiously enough New Plymouth seems to have done nothing for education until the end of the seventeenth century. Providence had its own school three years after the Restoration; and by 1693 Hartford, Newhaven, New London, and Fairfield were all in possession of state-supported schools. Connecticut's energy did not stop here; for Yale College was founded, and in 1717 was permanently established at Newhaven, where a house had been built "for the entertainment of the scholars belonging to the Collegiate School."[224] Thus the clergy of Connecticut were freed from their dependence upon Harvard. For nothing does New England deserve more unstinted praise than for these early efforts in the cause of education, the results of which have proved so eminently satisfactory.
Whether University education had much effect upon the literature of New England it would perhaps be a little difficult to say. Connecticut, for example, even with Yale College as a starting-point, produced no great literary achievements. Nevertheless throughout the first century of New England's story there was a well-defined and living school of literature. The school naturally divided into two parts: that of theology, which to the ordinary modern critic is somewhat meaningless; and that of history. The historical section was composed for the most part of chronicles, glowing with patriotism, alive with the picture of the daily life, and filled with "a dignity of diction belonging to those who have assimilated the English Bible till their speech instinctively adopts its form."[225] There was the work of Winthrop; the impulsive, triumphal hymn of Edward Johnson; "The Simple Cobbler of Agawam" of Nathaniel Ward, and the writings of many others. But this period of history and theology died away as the century neared its close. At the beginning of the eighteenth century Cotton Mather may be regarded as one of the best known of Boston authors. But the curious thing about the New England literature is the total absence of anything that might be called secular. The colonies, however, were not without their poets, for they had Anne Bradstreet and Michael Gigglesworth, the works of both of whom were recognised in the seventeenth century as being of real poetical merit.
This outburst of literature could never have been accomplished had it not been for the introduction of the printing-press. As early as 1638 a press was brought by Day to Boston and set up at Cambridge. A second press was introduced in 1655 by the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. Rhode Island had its press in 1708; while Short of Boston established printing in New London, Connecticut, in 1709. By the end of the seventeenth century newspapers began to be printed, such as The Public Occurance both Foreign and Domestic at Boston in 1690, to be followed fourteen years later by John Campbell's Boston Letter.
The increase of newspapers was the natural outcome of better means of travel and circulation of news. At first the different townships had been divided by vast forests; gradually, however, roads were built and communication between the different settlements was established. As early as 1638, three bridges were ordered to be built in Plymouth, and in 1652 we read of bridges that were strong enough for horsemen. Travelling, however, was generally on foot, for coaches were very rare and were only possessed by the more wealthy citizens of Boston. A postal service was established in the reign of Charles II. between Boston and New York; but it was not until 1710 that a General Post Office, with several sub-offices, was erected by Act of Parliament. The inns were not of any particular comfort, though they were fairly numerous. The Puritan was not hospitable like his southern brother, so that throughout New England taverns were insisted upon by law.
This was probably an excellent enactment and far better than many of the extraordinary laws that stained the pages of the New England records. Numerous sumptuary laws were passed against the wearing of gold or silver girdles, ruffs, or slashed sleeves. Drunkards had to proclaim their fault by wearing a red D; while Hawthorne's Scarlet Letter has familiarised all with the cruel punishment meted out to the fallen woman. In 1658, lying, drinking, and swearing could be punished by flogging; dancing and kissing also fell under severe penalties, though Cotton does say he only condemns "lascivious dancing to wanton ditties and in amorous gestures and wanton dalliances, especially after great feasts."[226] The attempt to prevent immorality was carried to the most absurd lengths, and even in the eighteenth century stage plays and rope dancing were forbidden as "likely to promote idleness and a great mispence of time."[227]
The laws may have been foolish, but it is perhaps uncharitable to judge them too sternly at this period. The men who passed them were undoubtedly conscientious; harsh they may have been, cruel in their punishments, but their hearts were in what they conceived to be the work of the Lord. They were bold men in a "howling wilderness"; they were the pioneers of a great nation. The American spirit to-day is compounded of much that once animated these first Americans on the eastern sea-coast. Their industry, their untiring energy, their honesty, their masculine character have been handed down through many generations to descendants not unworthy of such an ancestry as that of the Pilgrim Fathers.
FOOTNOTES:
[204] Words of Stoughton, Lieutenant-Governor of Massachusetts.
[205] Calendar of State Papers, Colonial, 1677-1680, p. 529.