This peculiarity of having various members of the church speak in public worship, one after another, they brought with them from Holland, such having been the practice adopted by Rev. Mr. Robinson, founded on the primitive practice of the church at Corinth, as recorded by St. Paul, in chapter xiii. of the Acts, 14th and 15th verses. But, as the community advanced in intelligence, it was found that study was essential to the teacher who, Sabbath after Sabbath, would interest a congregation. It was also remembered that such a practice was peculiarly adapted to the age of inspiration which had passed away. Thus the practice was gradually laid aside for the mode of worship now adopted by all the churches descended from the Puritans. The highly educated preacher, in the stated services of the sanctuary, brings from his treasury things new and old for the benefit of the church and congregation. But in frequent meetings for conference and prayer, all the brethren of the church have an opportunity of expressing their views upon all questions of faith and practice. There was probably no more sincere mourner, at the grave of Elder Brewster, than his life-long companion and friend, Captain Miles Standish. As we have mentioned, their farms in Duxbury were side by side. They had gathered around them several men of congenial spirit, among whom we find the name of John Alden. From whatever direction one approaches the homes of these illustrious men, he sees looming up before him the remarkable eminence known as “Captain’s Hill.” It is an oval-shaped mound, rising to the height of about one hundred and eighty feet. This hill was on the farm of Captain Standish. From its summit, scenery of landscape and water was presented, in a calm summer’s day, such as can scarcely be surpassed in beauty in any country. In a clear atmosphere one can discern, in the far distance of the eastern horizon, over the bay, the outline of the sand-hills of Cape Cod, with its sickle bend forming in the extreme north the harbor where the Mayflower first cast anchor; and where for five long weeks their shattered bark rested while the Pilgrims were in vain seeking for a home. Almost at one’s feet is to be seen the whole expanse of Plymouth Bay, with the entrance through which their storm-shattered shallop passed through the foaming breakers on either side. There was then no light-house on Gurnet’s Point to guide their endangered keel. Just before you is Clark’s Isle, under whose lee, in the midnight tempest, the Pilgrims found shelter, when every moment in danger of being submerged by the waves; and where they passed the ever-memorable Sabbath.