preached,
and beneath it the great preacher lies buried. A curious little reminder
of St. Paul's, London, is found here in the shape of a whispering
gallery. Another landmark is the venerable meeting-house of the
Unitarian society in Hingham, popularly known as the "Old Ship." Built
in 1681, it was a Congregational place of worship for nearly a century
and a half. Its sturdiness and rude beauty form a striking illustration
of the lasting quality of good, sound wooden beams as material for the
sanctuary. Preparations have already been undertaken for celebrating the
second centennial of the ancient building. Nearly as old, and still more
picturesque with its quaint roof, its venerable hanging chandelier of
brass, its sober old reredos and its age-hallowed communion-service, is
St. Michael's, Marblehead, built in 1714, where faithful rectors have
endeavored to reach six generations of the fishermen and aristocracy of
the rocky old port. The antiquarian who has seen these old temples and
asks for others on the New England coast will turn with scarcely less
interest to St. John's, Portsmouth; the forsaken Trinity Church,
Wickford, Rhode Island, built in 1706; or Trinity, Newport, where Bishop
Berkeley used to preach. In Newport, indeed, one may also speculate
beneath the Old Mill on the fanciful theory that the curious little
structure was a baptistery long before the days of Columbus--the most
ancient Christian temple on this side the sea.

It is not uncommon to find comparatively new American churches to which
their surroundings or their sober material or their quiet architecture
have given a somewhat exaggerated appearance of age. Such is the case
with the curious row of three churches--the North and Centre
Congregational and Trinity Episcopalstanding side by side on the New
Haven green in a fashion unknown elsewhere in our own country. Any one
of these three churches looks quite as old as that shapely memorial of
pre-Revolutionary days, St. Paul's Chapel, New York, built in 1766 in
the prevailing fashion of the London churches. As with St. Paul's, there
was also no marked appearance of antiquity in the North Dutch Church,
New York, removed in recent years. The poor old Middle Dutch Church in
the same city, with its ignoble modern additions and its swarm of busy
tenants, would have looked old if it could have done so, but for modern
New Yorkers it has no more venerable memory, in its disfigurement and
disguise, than that