erhaps present to have challenged it.
The occasion in question was one of a sort that was almost new to Medford; one that required the courage of their convictions of the participants.
Medford was then (1823), one hundred and ninety-three years from its settlement, a town of about one thousand five hundred inhabitants.
Its third meetinghouse had served the people for fifty-three years both for religious worship and secular assembly, and the forty-eight years of the settled minister, Dr. Osgood, had just closed.
Respect for him had kept the varying thought of the people well in check, and it is said he would tolerate no rival pulpit in his domain, regarding all such as interlopers.
But this could not always be.
The parting of the ways was near—indeed had been reached the previous year, as we will later notice.
Under the system of church and parish then operating, any dissenting views or doctrine must find other than the meeting house for promulgation.
In 1823, places o
-eight being marked as officers,—and the list is a notable one, being headed by the Governor of the Commonwealth, John Brooks, and the minister of the town, David Osgood, D. D. This list is worthy of preservation, and was furnished by the late Francis A. Wait, who says in a later communication:
A few years ago I saw a pamphlet town's third meeting-house (which was the last to be warmed only by the heat of debate or the parson's sermons), and entered in its record is the vote to allow Dr. Osgood, the minister, $200 to purchase his wood for the ensuing year.
The eighth article of the warrant was about painting the meeting-house, and this was referred oves and funnel, $20.00. Just think of it, all you who have furnace repairs to make just a century later—a heating plant for $20.00! But how about $200 for Parson Osgood's supply of wood for the same year, deducted from the $500 salary?
Even with the high price of coal in 1919, the average householder today would deem it a hards