nd us in peace and plenty,
which have grown out of what they began, and as we look back upon their
condition, trials and experiences, we are apt to imagine that their lot,
contrasted with our own, was an unhappy one. Nothing could be further
from the truth. They were a brave, hardy, thrifty, frugal, industrious
and most capable people. Man for man and woman for woman, they were
probably superior to those here to-day in faculty, and in the capacity
for healthy enjoyments. Their whole previous lives had inured them to
their experiences. They were the sons and grandsons of the original
pioneers of New England, and they had been born and reared in rude
settlements. They never indulged the delusion that this region was a
land flowing with milk and honey. Before they came they knew that they
were to wrest their living from an uncongenial soil, to struggle with
penury and to conquer only by constant toil and self-denying thrift. The
forest would supply them with the materials for shelter and fuel and to
some extent with food and clothing. All the rest must depend upon their
own exertions. There was a pleasure in facing and overcoming the perils
and difficulties which they encountered, which those, more delicately
reared who now live here can never know. Their individual helplessness
in the face of appalling obstacles to be met, but bound them closer
together in mutual helpfulness. Accordingly we find that their social
faculties were highly developed. It may well be doubted whether the sum
total of human pleasure among the whole five thousand inhabitants of the
town to-day is any greater than it was among the few hundred who settled
it. Probably our own superabundance of good things has actually lessened
our capacity to enjoy, in comparison with theirs. Their simple tastes
and homely joys amid their rude surroundings were probably more
productive of positive pleasure and real happiness, than all the
refinement and culture of our twentieth century civilization.

It would be a pleasing and instructive task to trace the progress of
this old town, from those rude beginnings to its present strength and
wealth. But the limits of the time and subject allotted to me on this
occasion forbid. It is the product of the labors of eight generations,
who now sleep beneath its soil. They never could have foreseen the
present. They never knew or thought of us. Each generation was busy with
its own problems, tasks and experiences. As we look back