for no less than fifty-three years, the one fixed element in the
flow of fourteen college generations. One of the most accomplished
scholars of his day, his influence on the young men with whom he came in
contact was stimulating to a degree, and they loved to repeat bits of
his famous repartee. A favorite which has come down to us was on an
occasion when Whitefield the revivalist declared in a theological
discussion: "It is my opinion that Dr. Tillotson is now in hell for his
heresy." To which Tutor Flynt retorted dryly: "It is my opinion that you
will not meet him there."

The procession of Quincy's great men which we have been watching winds
its way, as human processions are apt to do, to the old graveyard. Most
of the original settlers are buried here, although not a few were buried
on their own land, according to the common custom. Probably this
ancient burying ground, with its oldest headstone of 1663, has never
been particularly attractive. The Puritans did not decorate their
graveyards in any way. Fearing that prayers or sermons would encourage
the "superstitions" of the Roman Catholic Church, they shunned any
ritual over the dead or beautifying of their last resting-place.
However, neglected as the spot was, the old stone church, whose golden
belfry is such a familiar and pleasant landmark to all the neighboring
countryside, still keeps its face turned steadfastly toward it. The
congested traffic of the city square presses about its portico, but
those who knew and loved it best lie quietly within the shadow of its
gray walls. Under the portico lies President John Adams, and "at his
side sleeps until the trump shall sound, Abigail, his beloved and only
wife." In the second chamber is placed the dust of his illustrious son,
with "His partner for fifty years, Louisa Catherine"--she of whom Henry
Adams wrote, "her refined figure; her gentle voice and manner; her
vague effect of not belonging there, but to Washington or Europe, like
her furniture and writing-desk with little glass doors above and little
eighteenth-century volumes in old binding."

It has been called the "church of statesmen," this dignified building,
and so, indeed, might Quincy itself be called the "city of statesmen."
It would be extremely interesting to study the reasons for Quincy's
peculiar productiveness of noble public characters. The town was settled
(as Braintree) exclusively by people from Devonshire and Lincolnshire
and Essex. The laws o