There is a line of Cowper to the effect that "God made the country, and
man made the town;" and there is probably no more striking evidence of the
truthfulness of the axiom than is to be found in the history and growth of
Boston, between the years 1630 and 1880, confirming in a remarkable manner
Capt. Wood's prophecy concerning the town, in 1650: viz., "whose
continuall inlargement presages some sumptuous city." The original
territory which has formed the basis, so to speak, of Boston proper, was a
peninsula, and appeared like two islands, or, by the continued operation
of the sea, was likely to become so. Its distinguishing feature was to be
found in its three prominent hills, or, perhaps, its two hills and its
three-peaked mountain. These were her jewels: they have since represented
her fame, her history, her sentiments; for these were all wrapped around
them. The peninsula was a point of land projected into the harbor, with a
narrow neck connecting it with the mainland, and another narrow place in
the vicinity of what is now Dock Square, which was once quite open to the
harbor. In length from the south line at Roxbury, it was something less
than three miles (two and three-fourths and two hundred and thirty-eight
yards). Its width at the widest point, between Wheelwright's wharf
(afterwards Rowe's, and now Foster's) to Barton's Point, Leverett Street,
was something over one mile, and its circumference about four miles.