The opening service of the church was held on October 15, 1761, a large and not altogether enthusiastic congregation being present. For in the pews might have been noticed an astonishing proportion of the old Orthodox inhabitants of Cambridge, who had come out full of curiosity and distrust to witness the initial proceedings of an organization that had brought into their midst the very elements of popery and confusion from which their forefathers had thought to free themselves forever. Cambridge had gotten on for almost one hundred and thirty years with the stern creed, the bare meeting-house, and the uncomfortable doctrine of the dissenters, and it felt itself doing very well. So many silent scoffers, one may be sure, were seated in Christ Church on the day of that first service. The sermon was On the Constitution of a Christian Church," and the

ruddy-faced, strenuous young rector delivered it with great unction from the picturesque wine-glass pulpit, to rows of high, square box pews, well filled by gentlemen in cocked hats, laced coats, and white silk stockings, accompanied by ladies in flowered silks, high-heeled shoes, and all the other outward and visible signs of the fashion of 1761. If he noticed the unbending outsiders he gave no sign, for he was very happy.

And then, having removed his vestments and received the congratulations of the proprietors, who paid him the delicate compliment of requesting that he print his discourse, Dr. East Apthorp walked joyously out of the church, across the Common, to his own comfortable and wellkept home. For while the church had been in process of erection the young clergyman had built himself the stately mansion

of Georgian architecture which is to-day still standing (10 Linden Street), and which is known all over Cambridge as "the Bishop's Palace," even under its modern disguise of Apthorp Hall, a college dormitory. Only by the addition of a deforming third story (built when Mr. John Borland came in possession of the house, the better to accommodate his domestic slaves), is the building changed on the exterior from its original appearance. The interested visitor may yet enter its wide hall with the elaborate staircase balustrade, may yet admire the stately proportions of its rooms, and the wealth of hand-carving on cornice and mantel, may yet gaze in astonishment at the intricate patterns of the quaint delft tiles in the fireplace where Doctor Apthorp warmed his hands after his homeward walk that long-ago Sunday.