Groton—Past and Present 
The school was founded in the year 1884 and now 
ranks among the hnest in the world. Deservedly 
so — all agree—who know its record. Perhaps 
these few words, copied from the school pamphlet, 
will give the best idea of it: “Its object is to supply 
a thorough education. Every endeavor is made to 
cultivate manly Christian character, with reference 
to moral and physical, as well as intellectual develop¬ 
ment.” With such training, opportunities and 
surroundings small wonder that the school turns 
out splendid men! 
The scenery all around Groton is unrivaled—a 
rolling country, beautiful trees, cultivated fields, 
quaint farmhouses, brooks and ponds — and then, 
as a background, the ever changing mountains. 
Standing at one end of the town, back among the 
trees and rather high up is the “First Parish Meeting 
House.” Through all these changing years it has 
kept watch and ward over the dear old town, the 
white spire seeming an emblem of the faith, hope 
and charity which was the foundation rock of a 
splendid race of men and women. One feels the 
atmosphere of time and place in these words from 
a sermon preached there in 1883. “Pardon me for 
saying that many voices of those I see not, are heard 
here, of those who have, in years gone by, poured out 
their souls in praise and prayer within these venera¬ 
ble walls. Silent elsewhere, they are still heard 
here; we but echo their song to-day. It is my de¬ 
light in hours of weariness or wakefulness, to repeo¬ 
ple the pews of this church — not as we see it to-day, 
in its modern dress, but as it was before the spirit 
of so-called improvement fell upon it in 1838-9. In 
the days of the old square pews, the three ample 
porches, the high pulpit, the imposing sounding 
board, threatening to be an extinguisher to the 
preacher, in my youthful imagination, the galleries 
around three sides of the church, the singers’ ample 
gallery, with the venerable Mr. Calvin Boynton 
beating the time with his swinging arm as he led the 
large choir; in the front seat Mr. Solomon Frost, 
with his bassoon, a wonder to my young eyes. I 
could tell you what families occupied most of those 
s(|uare pews, and though 1 could not tell you much 
of the sermons or prayers, I could tell you with what 
pleasure I let fall with a bang two of the seats in 
No. 3, at the close of the long prayer, literally long 
prayer. I can see Mr. Sylvester Jacobs rushing in 
late with heavy boots and a stout whip in his hand. 
Colonel Abel Tarbell aroused from involuntary 
somnolency by peppermints and cloves judiciously 
administered by his smiling wife, Mr. Alphetis 
Richardson and his large family always a trifle behind 
time, Margaret Fuller, the wonder of the town for 
her knowledge and wisdom, Mrs. Jonathan Foring’s 
calash, the venerable heads of Judge Dana, Squire 
Park and Squire Butler, the paragon of honor and 
integrity, who occasionally, by virtue of his office as 
town clerk, varied the monotony of the service, 
by calling out just before the benediction an inten¬ 
tion of marriage. These and many more like 
pictures are inscribed upon my memory. I have, 
since those days, looked upon the dome of St. 
Peter’s in Rome, and upon the Mosque of Omar in 
Jerusalem, but neither awakened such emotions 
of awe and reverence as those felt when I have seen 
the First Church in Groton. A long pilgrimage 
would I make to see it as it was fifty or sixty years ago, 
and to see it peopled with those I then looked up to 
as the wisest and best of earth. ‘Peace be within 
thy walls, for my brethren and my Father’s sake I 
will say, peace be within thee.’” 
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