The indications are strong that by the middle of the eighteenth century there is not so much friction between the Rogerenes and the authorities in regard to the gathering of rates for the Congregational ministry, but that the old, exorbitant methods of seizure have declined to less grievous proportions. Nor does there appear to be serious interference with Sunday labor or travelling, which argues that the Rogerenes are not driven, by close watch and frequent arrests, to any extraordinary demonstrations of their disapproval of governmental meddling in matters of conscience. It appears to be the policy at this period to let them alone on these sensitive points, in consequence of which toleration they do not consider it necessary to make their differences of belief so distinctly prominent. Evidently, a large measure of the freedom for which this sect has contended is already accorded; certain ecclesiastical laws, not yet erased from the statute book, are becoming, in the neighborhood of the Rogerenes at least, of the dead letter order, which is the case with many other laws still upon that book. In June, 1753, occurs the death of John Rogers, 2d, in his eightieth year. He has made a long and heroic stand, since at the age of seventeen years he joined his father in this contest. To him is largely due the size and strength of a sect that has called for the bravest of the brave—and found them. Fifteen children gather at Mamacock, to follow the remains of this honored and beloved father to the grave, eight sons and seven daughters, of the average age of thirty-four years, the eldest (son) being fifty-two and the youngest (son) fourteen years of age. Besides these, with their families, and the widow in her prime, is the large gathering of Bolleses and other friends and followers in the locality, also those of Groton and doubtless many from other places. They lay the form of this patriarch beside his father, his wife Bathsheba and the children gone before, in the ground he has set apart, in the southeast corner of his farm, as a perpetual burial place for his descendants, close by the beautiful river that washes Mamacock. They mark his grave, like the others in this new ground, by two rough stones, from nature’s wealth of granite in this locality, whose only tracery shall be the lichen’s mossy green or tender mould.[155] Footnote 155: