of the people.  In the absence of newspapers, or of much intercourse with remote places, the day was made the occasion for hearing and telling all the news.  It provided for the circulation of ideas, good and bad.  It widened the sphere of influence of the wiser and better sort, and gave opportunity for mischievous people to do much harm.  It was a sort of central bazaar, open every week, where all the varieties of local gossip could be interchanged and circulated far and wide.  Of the aggregate character of the effects thus produced, I do not propose to strike the balance.  It was undoubtedly an effective instrumentality in moulding the population of the country, developing the elements of society, quickening and rendering more vigorous the action of the people in masses, and elucidating the phenomena of their history.  It answers my purpose, at present, to suggest, that, if any popular delusion or fanaticism arose, the means of giving it a rapid diffusion, and of intensifying its power, were in this way provided.

In the early settlement of the country, the pursuit of game in the forests, rivers, and lakes, was necessary as a means of subsistence, and has always been important in that view.  A war against beasts and birds of prey was also required to be incessantly kept up.  The methods adopted for these ends were various and ingenious, often requiring courage and skill, and in most instances conducted in companies.  Deer and moose were sometimes caged by surrounding them, or trapped; but the gun was chiefly relied upon in their pursuit.  There were various methods for catching the smaller animals.  One of the sports of boyhood was to spring the rabbits or hares.  A sapling, or young tree, was bent down and fastened to a stick slid into notches cut in trees, on each side of the path of the animal.  The rabbit is wont to race through the woods at great speed, and along established tracks, which, particularly after snow has fallen, are clearly traceable.  To the cross-stick, thus placed above the path, one end of a strong horse-hair was tied.  The other end was in a slip-knot, with a noose just large enough, and hanging at the height, to receive the head of the rabbit.  Not seeing the noose, and rushing along the path, the rabbit would jerk the cross-stick out of the notches.  The tree would bound back to its original upright direction, and the rabbit remain swinging aloft, until, at the break of day, the boys would rejoice in the success of their stratagem.  Pigeons in clouds frequented the country in their seasons, and acres upon acres of the forests bowed beneath their weight.  They were taken by nets, dozens at a time, or brought down in great numbers by shot-guns.  The marshalled hosts of wild geese made their noisy flights over the land in the spring and fall, traversing a space spanning the continent north and south.  They were brought down by the gun, on the wing, or surprised while resting in their long route or stopped by storms, around secluded ponds or swamps.  Ducks and other aquatic birds were abundant on the rivers and marshes, and pursued in canoes along the bays and seashores.  Salt-water fish were within reach in the neighboring ocean; while an unfailing supply of fresh-water fish was yielded by Wenham Lake, Wilkins’s Pond, and the running streams.