. The town and people; a chronological compilation of contributed writings from present and past residents of the town of Woodbury, Connecticut;. scares me. My memory is tenacious of datesand I will give it. It was in the fall of 1828. Oh! the record ofthirty years is on me and on you. It has carried me along from theboy of scarce ten Summers to the meridian of life. It has carriedyou along from the dark hair and bloom of youth to the twilightgrey of lifes evening. God grant that this evening may be as long,as calm, as happy as your life has been exemplary, beautiful anduseful. But, sir, it wa


. The town and people; a chronological compilation of contributed writings from present and past residents of the town of Woodbury, Connecticut;. scares me. My memory is tenacious of datesand I will give it. It was in the fall of 1828. Oh! the record ofthirty years is on me and on you. It has carried me along from theboy of scarce ten Summers to the meridian of life. It has carriedyou along from the dark hair and bloom of youth to the twilightgrey of lifes evening. God grant that this evening may be as long,as calm, as happy as your life has been exemplary, beautiful anduseful. But, sir, it was assigned as my part to respond to TheEarly Schools of Ancient Woodbury. To speak of the schools ofAncient Woodbury is to speak of the Puritan schools, a subject, Itake, it needs no illustrating from me. The Puritan schools havelong since gained the acknowledgment of being the main humanagency in the immense moral force exhibited by New Englandthroughout her whole past history. Their influence has gone forthHke streams in the desert to make glad and bless humanity. WOOD15LRY, Conn. Thomas Merritt Thompson, A. M. WOODBURY, COXNKCTICIT I8l. 182 THK Town and PUOPLr; Jllv 8, lyoi.—Two words constantly associate themselves in mymind with the name of this town ; it is always to me, ancient andbeautiful Woodbury. Whether one ascends the Observatory inOrenaug- Park or climbs our Pisgah, Good Hill, and views thelandscape oer, he is entranced by the rich and varied panoramawhich Nature spreads with lavish hand before his glad eyes. Littlewonder is it that the original Pilgrim settlers spied out the goodlyvalley of the Pomperaug as a likely place for themselves and theirnumerous and worthy prog:eny. In a region so beautiful can there be anything unlovely? WhileNature through her nnriad voices is telling us gently yet persist-ently to be good, to be true, and to make our lives beautiful, is itpossible that anyone will prefer to be vile and hateful ? Had we eyes to see we could read othe


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