tions are Five Dollars at entrance; to be confin'd to no
particular hours or time: And if they apply Constant may be Compleat
in six weeks. And when she has fifty subscribers school will be
opened, &c, &c."

NOTE 52.

This was James Lovell, the famous Boston schoolmaster, orator, and
patriot. He was born in Boston October 31, 1737. He graduated at
Harvard in 1756, then became a Latin School usher. He married Miss
Helen Sheaffe, older sister of the "two Miss Sheafs" named herein;
and their daughter married Henry Loring, of Brookline. He was a
famous patriot: he delivered the oration in 1771 commemorative of
the Boston Massacre. He was imprisoned by the British as a spy on
the evidence of letters found on General Warren's dead body after
the battle of Bunker Hill. He died in Windham, Maine, July 14, 1814.
A full account of his life and writings is given in Loring's
_Hundred Boston Orators_.

NOTE 53.

Nothing seems more revolting to our modern notions of decency than
the inhuman custom of punishing criminals in the open streets. From
the earliest days of the colonies the greatest publicity was given
to the crime, to its punishment, and to the criminal. Anna shows, in
her acquaintance with the vices of Bet Smith, a painful familiarity
with evil unknown in any well-bred child of to-day. Samuel Breck
wrote thus of the Boston of 1771:--

"The large whipping-post painted red stood conspicuously and
prominently in the most public street in the town. It was placed in
State Street directly under the windows of a great writing school
which I frequented, and from them the scholars were indulged in the
spectacle of all kinds of punishment suited to harden their hearts
and brutalize their feelings. Here women were taken in a huge cage,
in which they were dragged on wheels from prison, and tied to the
post with bare backs on which thirty or forty lashes were bestowed
among the screams of the culprit and the uproar of the mob. A little
further in the street was to be seen the pillory with three or four
fellows fastened by the head and hands, and standing for an hour in
that helpless posture, exposed to gross and cruel jeers from the
multitude, who pelted them incessantly with rotten eggs and every
repulsive kind of garbage that could be collected."

There was a pillory in State Street in Boston as late as 1803, and
men stood in it for the crime of