he Massachusetts school
law of 1649 set forth in the preamble that, "it being one chief project
of that old deluder, Satan, to keep men from the knowledge of the
Scriptures, as in former times keeping them in an unknown tongue, so in
these later times persuading men from the use of tongues, so that at the
least a true sense and meaning of the original might be clouded with
false glossing of saint-seeming deceivers, and that learning may not be
buried in the grave of our fathers," therefore, etc. Every township was
required to maintain a school for reading and writing, and every town of
a hundred householders a grammar-school, with a teacher qualified to fit
youths for the university. This school law was enacted likewise in the
other Puritan colonies. While its object was to strengthen the hold of
religion, as expounded by the Puritan ministry, upon the people, its
general effect was to spread intelligence along with learning, and to
break down the barriers of intolerance. It is a significant fact,
however, and in accordance with the lessons of more recent history, that
the seat of the highest education was not always the seat of the highest
intelligence. The witchcraft delusion found a haven in Harvard when the
common sense of a common-school educated people rejected it by a decisive
majority.

The Puritan was stern and cruel because he was thoroughly in earnest. He
believed his religion to be true, and that the only path to salvation lay
through rigid compliance with Puritan doctrine. Believing as he did he
was logical; he was humane. The non-Puritan was, in his view, a
pestilence to be got rid of by the most heroic measures if necessary. In
acting on this principle he was kind, in his judgment, to the many whom
he saved from pollution and damnation by the sacrifice of the few. The
devil, to the Puritan, was terribly personal, and Cotton Mather's horror
of witchcraft was grounded in a sincere belief in that personality. The
forces of evil were always active, and the Puritan believed in combating
them in the most vigorous and trenchant fashion. The Scripture enjoined
upon him to pluck out his own eye if it offended, and it was natural that
he should not hesitate to sacrifice others when they offended. With all
his severity he took good care to let transgressors know what they had to
expect, and he felt the less compunction, therefore, in inflicting
penalties deliberately incurred. Life for the Puritan was a very serious