To Isaiah there came a voice crying in the wilderness: "Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God." This verse is often in the writer's thought as she looks abroad over the peaceful country in which her home is situated. Here, three hundred years ago, the Pequot Indians were trailing through the primeval forests and fierce beasts were making their dens in secret caves, and when the Puritans pushed their way across the sea and into the forests, they had to meet not only hunger and cold, but the ferocity of beasts and the inhumanity of savages.

Bravely, however, in their pioneer work on the rocky New England soil, they faced the elements, the wild beasts, and the Indians, and little by little all were overcome. In comfortable homes they no longer feared stealthy foes, cultivated fields took the place of deep woods, the tracks of animals became highways for civilization, and now through a fertile happy country the motor-cars of the descendants in the fourth and fifth generation of these sturdy pioneers speed without an obstacle over the highway which links two great cities. As one compares the present generation with the men who, as it were, hewed religious liberty out of this hard soil, he can but wonder if an inheritance of ease is an unmixed blessing. Are we worthy descendants of those sturdy old pioneers who put this highway beneath our feet?

December 21, 1912

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