Historical memoir of the Springfield cemetery, read to the proprietors at their meeting, May 23, 1857

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CiS l3yS<?,/d,/oO

HARVARD
COLLEGE
LIBRARY

ilUCAL M KM01 i:

SPRINGFIELD CEMETERY,

■ rr.TOItf AT TIUIK WW ■ ■

GEORGE BLISS,

■

UI'V . \Y \i. R. U. PBAflUftl .

■ l ' ;

■

L »' J

HISTORICAL MEMOIR

or m

SPRING-FIELD CEMETERY,

BEAD TO THE PROPRIETORS AT THEIR MEETING, HAY 28, 1867.

— BT—

GEORGE BLISS,

THEIB PRESIDENT.

Accompanied by an Address delivered at the Consecration of the Cemetery,

SEPTEMBER 5, 1841,

— BT—

REV. WM. B. 0. PEABODY.

\m%m*

SPRINGFIELD, MASS.
SAMUEL BOWLES AND COMPANY, PRINTERS

1857,

US I3*?f, {r ^ S-

LIZ 15 <-f

. /o-/°<=>

•

HABVA3D COLLEGE LIBHAM

2<P

J&s-y

SPRINGFIELD CEMETERY.

To the Pbopbibtobs of thb Springfield Cehetebt :—

The Cemetery established and sustained with varying fortunes
through a period of sixteen years, has become an institution of
such absorbing interest and attachment to all our local population,
that it is deemed proper to embrace the present occasion of your
annual meeting to submit a brief memoir of its origin, progress
and present condition. This is peculiarly appropriate now, as all
the proposed purchases of territory have been made, the whole
has been paid for, the association is out of debt, with a moderate
surplus of funds, and the premises are all comparatively in good
order.

ORIGIN AND ORGANIZATION.

On the 4th of October, 1840, an informal meeting of a few
gentlemen was held for consultation on the subject of a " Enrol
Cemetery." This resulted in the appointment of committees to
select and report upon a suitable location, and to prepare a form
of association. At a meeting on the 28th of March, 1841, upon
the report of these committees, it was voted to purchase of Mr.
Alexander Bliss the part of the present premises known as "Mar-
tha's Dingle,' 9 being about twenty acres. Suitable access to the
same was provided for, and measures taken for a legal organiza-
tion. On May 6th, 1841, on the application of fourteen gentle-
men, a warrant was issued by a magistrate for a legal meeting on
the 9th.

At that meeting the present system of organization was per-
fected — a board of seven trustees provided for and chosen — and
the Kev. ¥m. B. O. Peabody elected President, an office which
he continued to hold until his death in 1847.

To insure success to the enterprise, a subscription was taken up
for shares in the company, of $10 each, which, on the 1st of
June, 1841, amounted to $8,070, the subscribers to be at liberty
to take an interest in lots to be laid out, to the extent of their
subscriptions. The work of laying out, grading, planting, orna-
menting and fencing the grounds, was commenced, and has been
constantly pursued to the present time. The grounds have been
enlarged by several additions since the first purchase, and they
now contain about thirty-five acres of land at a total cost of about
$8,270 51 ; and they are believed to be ample for many genera-
tions to come. They include a house and lot in Mulberry street,
adjoining the Cemetery, purchased for $1,700, in 1848, for the
use of the Superintendent — a part of which has been rented. A
barn was erected near the house in 1849 for the purposes of the
company, at a cost of about $600. A receiving tomb was con-
structed in 1841, and being found too small, an addition of equal
size has been recently made to it.

On the 5th day of September, 1841, the Cemetery was duly
consecrated by religious services, and an appropriate address was
delivered by the President, the Eev. Mr. Peabody.

On the 12th day of March, 1845, the trustees voted that it was
expedient to build a gate-way according to a flan submitted by
Mr. Peabody, and directed an estimate to be prepared. On the
26th of March, 1845, such an estimate was presented, and it was
voted that the building of the gate-way be commenced under the
superintendence of Messrs. Peabody, Eaton, Q. Dwight, Brewer
and Elwell. The work was prosecuted through that year, at
great expense — the exact amount of which cannot well be ascer-
tained ; and in June, 1846, a vote was passed that Mr. G. Dwight
go on with the gate-way at an expense not exceeding $300. The
structure was still unfinished ; and the funds of the company
being needed for other and more pressing purposes, the work was

suspended, and it has thus remained to the present time. A con-
tract has now been made to complete it by the 15th of June next,
according to the original drawing by Sikes, for $160. From &
cursory examination, it appears that the whole cost cannot be less
than f 2000 to $2,250. The trustees propose to cover it with suit-
able ornamental vines when finished.

In 1848, an arrangement was made by the trustees with the
Firtt Parish in Springfield, who held the title of the principal
part of the old burying grounds on the river, at the foot and each
side of Elm street, to convey the same to the proprietors of the
Cemetery, on condition of the careful disinterment of the remains
of all persons buried there, and the removal of such as should
not be claimed and removed by their friends, to a portion of the
Cemetery, Specially and exclusively set apart for them adjoining
Find Street, and theft re-interment— the old monuments to be
erected to their appropriate remains. This service was performed
daring that year, in a manner satisfectory to all parties, and with
the following results : —

The number of bodies then removed from the old North Burying

ground, ---- 1,624

From the South Burying ground, - 810

Total, - 2,434

Thirty of these were removed to other burying grounds; the
residue were deposited in our Cemetery. Five hundred and
seventeen old monuments and tablets were also removed. All
remains having no monuments, and not recognized, were deposited
together, and a common monument erected, designating tie feet;
the whole enclosure was surrounded by a hedge, and a monument,
commemorative of these removals and re-interments, was erected
near the eastern entrance on Fine street.

The whole expense attending this removal, was - - $1,625 33
dto whic£ add amounts paid for sundry private burial lots

adjoining, not belonging to 1st Parish, ... 420 62

Total cost of the old grounds, - $2,045 95

6

The lands of the old burying grounds were laid out into lots,
and have now all been sold, and paid for from time to time : —

Producing in the whole, - - $7,144 79

Deduct cost and expenses above, - - - • .-.. - 2,045 95

Net proceeds, • - - $5,098 84

The whole number of lots in the Cemetery, sold in 16 years —
up to May 1st, 1857, is 730. The whole number of burials is as
follows : —

By sextons of different societies prior to the appointment of the

Superintendent in 1842, say - - ' - - 12 00

Removals by the Hartford railroad company, on locating their

road*— and removals by friends prior to 1848, say - - 227 00
Removals by the Cemetery company in 1848, from the old

grounds to their own premises, as before stated, - - 2,404 00
Original burials by the Superintendent, from November 1842,

to May 1, 1857, 1,570 00

Total, 4,213 00

Of this last number about 170 original burials were upon the
common ground owned by the Cemetery company, being princi-
pally paupers and strangers.

FINANCIAL DEPARTMENT.

Since June, 1841, there have been received by the treasurer to
May 1st, 1857:—

From subscriptions and sales of lots as per annual statements

annexed, «A? $19,552 65

From Fairs and a Concert, ..... 2,440 47

From labor by the Superintendent for sundry owners of lots

— attending funerals, use of tomb and burials, - - 6,369 71

From rents, 1,152 38

From sales of lands of the old burying ground, $7,144 79

Less paid expenses of removals and cost of

private lots, 2,045 95 — 5,098 84

Sundry miscellaneous sources, ..... 100 50

Total, $34,714 55

The payments have been as follows : —

For purchases of lands for the Cemetery from time to time

as per the annexed schedule marked " B y " - - $8,270 51

For labor and sundry expenses of laying out, grading, pre-
paring and ornamenting the grounds, building fences,
drains, paths, a tomb, gateway, salaries of treasurer and
other incidental expenses for sixteen years, and includ-
ing interest, - - 25,037 54

Leaving a balance in the treasury May 4th, as per treasurer's

report of that date, of 1,406 50

Total, $34,714 55

This is exclusive of receipts and payments on account of
moneys borrowed. There are no debts outstanding, and no
claims against the company unpaid.

I take great pleasure in congratulating the proprietors upon the
eminent success which has thus far attended this enterprise — the
entire prosperity of every department of their business, and the
flattering prospects for the future. It is the purpose of the Presi-
dent and trustees to grade and prepare for sale, lots in different
parts of the Cemetery as there shall be a demand for them, and
gradually further to improve and ornament the grounds by the
erection of more permanent fences, and the construction of da-
rable sewers for temporary, insufficient ones, laid down in former
years.

Among the purchases of lands, the proprietors will notice one
of six and a half acres, called the Peach Orchard, being wholly
plain land on the south side of the Cemetery. As this was the
only direction in which it was supposed the grounds could be en-
larged at any future time, the trustees improved the opportunity
to secure this tract for future use, in case it should be needed. It
is not designed to have any part of this lot used for burials for
many years ; but the trustees intend to plant it with trees and
shrubbery, from time to time, and to lay it out into drives and
walks.

I cannot close this communication without stating that the
friends of the late Eev. William B. O. Peabody— eminently the

8

founder and the constant and steadfast friend of this institution —
propose to erect by subscription, in some prominent place in the
Cemetery, a monument to his. memory, which will be alike
honorable to him, and a just appreciation on their part, of his
character and services. And I beg leave to suggest, that the pro-
prietors should, in token of their concurrence in so laudable an
object, contribute something towards the erection of such a
monument.

And in this connection it would be inexcusable not to acknowl-
edge in grateful terms, the services of George Eaton, Esq., of
Boston, then a resident of Springfield, who devoted himself with
untiring assiduity to the laying out, planting and ornamenting of
the grounds. To the eminent taste and judgment of Mr. Eaton
and Mr. Peabody are we mainly indebted for the great beauty of
the drives and winding walks and fountains which elicit the ad-
miration of all strangers, and constitute this Cemetery the pride
of our citizens.

Nor should we omit to place on record for future reference, the
name of Apollos Marsh, who has been the devoted Superinten-
dent of the work and grounds from the commencement of the
undertaking to the present time, -to the entire acceptance of the
proprietors and their officers.

Eespectfully submitted,

GEOEGE BLISS, President.
May 23, 1857.

SCHEDULE A.

Schedule of Annual Beooipts from Babaoriptioni, for Burial Loti and Bala* of Lot".

For year

ending May :

, 1842,

principally subscriptions,

$3,457 60

"

*

"

1813,

sales,

880 72

«

■

«

1814,

«

1,195 59

»

"

«

1845,

"

846 62

"

«

«

1846,

«

1,047 37

"

«

"

1847,

"

1,043 91

"

"

"

1848,

"

780 40

"

"

"

1849,

«

1,566 63

«

"

«

1850,

u

1,215 02

"

"

"

1851,

"

1,004 03

"

"

"

1852,

«

1,009 00

"

«

"

1853,

«

1,198 85

"

"

«

1854,

"

1,138 70

"

-

«

1855,

«

1,087 70

"

«

«

1856,

a

996 50

"

u

"

1857,

"

1,089 00

Total,

$19,552 64

tateme.

at of Pni

SCHEDULE B.

™"£.

«M.<**U**

Wismn ,.

"*"»■

MMMW* fa.

!Ml,Mayl2

I. Adams, A. Bun. HlUe

18"

US

•1,50 05

Martha's Dingle.

Parker anil Sprlngflcll

tank. lEutntoee it.]

(So. quantity jiTon.J

MB 00

6

70B E9

it

69 87

loM.Itec.ll

T. J. Shepird,

s

168 00

1345, July.

226 00

H. Stems, (ear)
Btwdoin, Mills, Slaunw

BO

On Smith 11ns of Dirignt lot.

184S-8.

60

1B5 00

Straightening North line.

1B47, Juno 1

lis

1,357 00

Laundry Lot.

lfcVl.M:,-.ij.

Rnmrill,

Straightening Waflt line.

H. W. Adorns,

a

80

-,,»„, O"

1848.

500

Straightening North But Jine-

T^^,

43

1,700 00

Multierry st. house bad lot.

Total,

as

SB,370 51

CONDITIONS CONTAINED IN ALL DEEDS OF LOTS IN

THE CEMETERY.

First, That the said lot of land shall not be used for any other purpose
than as a place of burial for the dead ; and no trees within the lot, or border,
shall be cut down, trimmed, or destroyed, without the consent of the Trustees
of the said Corporation.

Second, That the proprietor of the said lot shall have the right to erect
stones, monuments or sepulchral structures, and to cultivate trees, shrubs and
plants in the same.

Third, The proprietor of the said lot of land shall erect thereon, at his or
her own expense, a monument of stone, to be provided by said Trustees, with
the number thereof legibly and permanently marked thereon And if the
said proprietor shall omit, for thirty days after notice, to erect such monu-
ment, and mark the number, the Trustees shall have authority to cause the
same to be done at the expense of the said proprietor.

Fourth, That if any trees or shrubs situated in said lot of land, shall, by
means of their roots, branches, or otherwise, become detrimental to the ad-
jacent lots or avenues, or dangerous or inconvenient to passengers, it shall be
the duty of the said Trustees for the time being, and they shall have the
right to enter into the said lot and remove the said trees and shrubs, or such
parts thereof as are thus detrimental, dangerous, or inconvenient.

Fifth, That if any monument, or effigy, or any structure whatever, or any
inscription be placed in or upon the said land, which shall be determined by
the major part of the said Trustees for the time being, to be offensive or im-
proper, the said Trustees, or the major part of them, shall have the right, and
it shall be their duty, to enter upon said land, and remove the said offensive
or improper object or objects.

Sixth, No fence shall from time to time, or at any time, be placed or
erected in or around the said lot, the materials and design of which shall
not first have been approved by the Trustees, or a committee of them.

Seventh, No tomb shall be constructed within the bounds of the Ceme-
tery, except in or upon the lots situated in such parts of the grounds, as shall
be designated by the Trustees for that purpose ; and no proprietor shall suffer
the remains of any person to be deposited in a tomb so authorized, for hire.

Eighth, The Trustees may at any time enter upon said lot to keep the
same neat, and clear off the grass and weeds therefrom and appropriate the
said grass and weeds to their own use.

Ninth, The said lot of land shall be holden subject to the provisions con-
tained in the By-Laws of the proprietors of said Cemetery, heretofore estab-
lished, or which may be hereafter established by them. , ,

APPENDIX.

Address of Rev. W. B. 0. PEABODY at the Consecra-
tion of the Cemetery, September 5th, 1841.

We have long been endeavoring to secure a fit resting
place for our dead. And now, having succeeded in this
enterprise — having found a place, in every respect, grate-
ful to our feelings — we are come, — with solemn service,
on the day of rest — to implore on our place of rest the
blessing of our God.

When I saw this great audience just now, winding up

through the glades of the Cemetery to take their places

on this ground, I was deeply affected with the thought,

how soon we shall take our places in the dust below.

With this deep thought upon our minds — with these hills

and vaUies around us — in presence of these venerable

trees and these sparkling waters — with the green earth

beneath, and God's own bright sky above us — I need not

ask your attention — I need not labor to bring you to

solemnity ; for I doubt not that a voice is now saying in

every heart, "the place whereon thou standest is holy
ground."

The feeling which leads us to respect the dead — the same

feeling which brings us here to-day, is found in every age

and country ; aye, in every man, who deserves the name

i

12

of man The rough soldier, at the grave of his comrade,
feels this strong emotion, and becomes a better man for
the v time; the seaman, as he leans over the side of his
vessel, to watch the plunge of his shipmate's corpse in the
waters, becomes more thoughtful than ever he was before.
And ye yourselves do know, that> in every funeral, where
the dead lies out before the living, with an air of mysteri-
ous reserve upon his brow — with an unsearchable depth
of expression which no living eye can read — he is in-
vested, for the time, with the stern majesty of death, and
every heart does willing homage to his power.

Nor does this reverence cease when the dead are hidden
from our eyes. It follows them to the grave, and makes
us regard as sacred the place where we have laid them.
The burial place is the favorite retreat of the thoughtful;
it calms all troubled feelings — it is the place where many
holy lives begin — where the unfortunate are most recon-
ciled to this world, and the gay most concerned for the
other. When our friends depart, we hang over these
places with profound interest, because here it is that we
lose them. Up to this place we can follow them, through
all changes, of joy and sorrow, of life and death. But
" hitherto shalt thou come, and no farther " is written on
the portal of the tomb. Here is the boundary, beyond
which they cannot return — beyond which we cannot go.
No wonder then that* it chains attention; it is like the
spot in the ocean, where we have seen some gallant ship
go down.

And now I say, it is nature — that is — the God of
nature, who inspires this feeling in the human breast. I
have heard some men say, that they care not what be-
comes of their remains when they are gone. It may be

13

so — they may say so of themselves if they will. But if
they say that they care not what becomes of the remains
of their friends when they are gone, their hearts are not
in the right place ; I should doubt if they had friends — I
should know that they did not deserve them. Indiffeiv
ence to these things is not natural to any good mind or
heart. Nature says, "Bury me with my fathers." The
feeling which nature dictates is, " that I may die in mine
own city, and be buried by the grave of my father and
my mother."

It is true the soul is more than the body ; the condition
of the soul which has gone into eternity is infinitely more
important than that of the tenement of clay which it
leaves behind. But whoever truly cares for the one will
also care for the other. Whoever follows with his heart
the friend who has gone into eternity, will surely have
some regard to the place where that friend's remains are
laid. Why is the body cared for ? Is it not because it
has been for a time the dwelling of the soul ? This reason
will be sufficient to keep any one who values the soul
from treating it with the least disdain. Have you not
known, how, when a friend departs, every thing that has
been connected with him becomes consecrated in your
eyes ? The letters he wrote, the dress he wore, the books
he read-every thing is a sacred memorial to .the sur-
viving. Surely then, the mortal frante which the soul has
once illuminated with light and love — the mortal frame,
where the soul has beamed from the eye, breathed from
the lips, and shone like a glory on the brow, — surely the
remains deserve to be treasured ; and I neither envy nor
respect the man who can treat them with light regard.

Do you say that this feeling grows out of refinement ?

14

that it springs from cultivation, not from nature ? To this
I have a reply. The land on which we dwell was pos-
sessed by a different race two hundred years ago. There
is reason to believe that their camps were stationed, and
their council fires burned on a part of this very ground.
That wild race was never equaled by any civilized people,
in their attachment to the grave and the memory of their
fathers. Was this refinement in them? Was it not
rather a natural feeling, which all their barbarism had
never been able to extinguish ?

Let me ask too, what portion of a civilized community
manifest this feeling in its greatest strength ? Is it the re-
fined as they are called ? or is it those who are more true
to nature ? Who are they who make it so dangerous to
violate the grave ? Let an insult be offered to the tomb,
and all the roughest elements of the community are up
in arms. They say that the living can protect them-
selves ; but they must guard the slumbers of the defence-
less dead. So far from refinement being the parent of
these feelings, it rather tends to weaken and destroy them.
Silver and gold may be refined till they are fit for no use-
ful purpose, and serve only for ornament and show ; and
so man may be refined till he becomes cold and heartless
— till all generous impulses and affections forsake his
breast forever.

But you ask, if fliis feeling is natural, why has it not
done more to improve the outward aspect of the grave ?
I answer, this is the province of taste ; and it does not
follow, that because the feeling of respect for the dead is
strong, it shall manifest itself in this way ; though, in com-
ing days, there is encouragement to hope that it wilL
The proper taste has been inspired} it is spreading fast

15

and far; the time is not distant, when Mount Auburn,
which for years was almost alone, will be the mother of a
thousand fair cities of the dead. It is not so now. In
most parts of our land, the burial place is another name
for desolation. Its walls, if it has any, are broken down ;
its monuments are leaning with neglect, not with age — a«
if they were weary of bearing inscriptions which no one
comes to read ; there is no relief to the eye but the rank
grass in summer, and the aster and golden-rod in autumn,
which nature spreads there as if in shame for the living
and compassion for the dead. In such places, every one
feels ashamed of his race ; every one feels that the living
are unjust and unworthy. Why, the very dog, who has
been faithful to his master, deserves a more honored
grave.

And now let me say, that religion strongly testifies to
the power of this natural feeling. If I would know what
will affect the human heart, the Bible is the authority to
which I go. There we find it written that God deter-
mined to separate the sons of the patriarchs as a peculiar
people. They were then wanderers by habit and profes-
sion; it was necessary that they should give up their
roving, and settle quietly down in the limits of the
promised land. And this was done. Hard as it is to
change the manners of a people, in the case of the He-
brews this was so thoroughly done, that these hereditary
wanderers became renowned through all the nations, for
the depth of m their attachment to their father-land. In the
captivity, by the rivers of Babylon, when their conquerors
respectfully desired to hear their far-famed minstrelsy, the
songs of Zion were so full of recollections of their coun-
try, that it almost broke their hearts to sing them. They

16

hanged their harps on the weeping willows, and could not
strike them again. Their feeling is expressed by one of
their prophets, in the words, "Weep not for the dead,
neither bemoan him ; but weep for him that goeth away :
for he shall return no more, nor see his native country »

And how was this great change accomplished ? It was
done by means of this feeling of respect for the dead. It
was done by anchoring the affections of the children to
the graves of their fathers. From the earliest ages, all
who dwelt near to God took an interest in this subject,
resolved that the body, which had once been the dwelling
of the soul, should not, like common dust, be trodden
under foot of men. When Jacob was dying in Egypt, he
could not bear the thought of being laid to rest in the
distance and solitude of a foreign land. Joseph, too,
bound his children by a promise, that his remains should
be borne to the sepulchre of his fathers. This feeling
grew and gained strength among them, till it destroyed all
inclination to wander — till it was the heart's desire and
prayer of the dying Hebrew, that his ashes might mingle,
dust to dust, with his own, his native land.

We should not have expected to find the true taste in
times so ancient ; nor should we find it in any except the
patriarchs and those whose souls were lighted from on
high. But we do trace, in those early ages, the same taste
which now begins to prevail among ourselves — the same
desire to bring trees and flowers, to remove the dreariness
of the place of death. When Abraham bought the fields
of Machpelah for a Cemetery, he secured the right to all
the trees that were in it, and all that grew on its borders.
The sepulchre of our Saviour, too, was in a garden — a
place where trees spread their shade above, and flowers

17

breathed incense from their little urns below — a place not
distant from the city, and yet not so near, that the noise
and business of the living should disturb the silence of the
grave. Not anticipating that their Master would rise, they
laid him in a place to which they might come in peace and
loneliness, to meditate and remember, and where pilgrims
in after times might resort, to be strengthened and inspired
by the memory of that great friend of man.

The religion of Jesus tends to confirm the feeling of
which I speak. It gives us reason to believe that the de-
parted are living — gone from this world, indeed, but not
from* existence, — living in some province of creation,
where it is not given us to know. If it be so, they must
look back with deep interest on all the scenes through
which they traveled in their pilgrimage below. And if,
from their bright abodes, they look down on their own neg-
lected graves, must there not be sorrow in heaven ? But
no! Sorrow can never enter to disturb the untroubled
calm above. Let me ask rather, will there not be joy in
heaven if they can see that their resting place is honored ?
and that memorials are planted there by affectionate hands?
It will assure them, not merely that they are remembered,
but that their surviving friends are faithful, both to the
dead and the living, and that they are preparing to meet
them in their Father's house on high.

But I am going beyond your patience and my own
strength ; I will therefore bring the subject directly home
to ourselves.

We have made arrangements to leave the burial place
of our fathers. The opening of that small grave yonder
was the act by which we bade it farewell. We have done

18

it from necessity and not from choice. If I am told that
there is room there yet, I answer, it is true ; we may bury
our dead there if we wilL But if we lay our heart's treas-
ure there to-day, the stranger may be laid at his side to-
morrow ; and thus they who have been united in life, must
be separated in death. Surely every heart will confess
that it ought not so to be.

The place " where the rude forefathers of the hamlet
sleep," was originally chosen with true taste and feeling.
It was so near the village, that the mourner might follow
his dead on foot, as the mourner should, if God gives him
strength ; at the same time it was so distant as to leave the
place in silence and repose. When I came here, twenty
years since, it was my favorite resort, at morning, at eve-
ning, and sometimes at midnight hours. It was peaceful
— it was beautiful — on one side the eye wandered over the
two spires, which were all that then rose in the village, to
the high walls of the valley, crowned with the dark pine
wood. On the other side, it fell upon the bright stream,
with the green fringe upon its borders, where there was
seldom even a dashing oar to break the smoothness of the
tide. But as the village grew, the place was changed.
The sounds of busy life came near ; the noise of men, on
the fields and the waters, was brought into painful contrast
with the stillness of the grave. And now, for years, we
have heard the quick steps of improvement, as it is called,
trampling like a war-horse round it, impatient to tread it
down. When Jerusalem was about to fall, a voice was
heard at midnight in the temple, saying, * let us depart ;"
and when I have been, in the dead of night, at the place
of which I speak, it required little fancy to hear a voice,
saying to the sleepers, " arise and depart, for this is not

19

ycmr rest; the place where the living buy and sell is no
longer a home for you."

Suffer me to congratulate you now, on the success which
has attended this enterprise from its beginning to the pres-
ent hour. Seven years since I presented this subject to
all whom my voice could reach. I did so, at the desire of
a daughter of this village, who was deeply interested in
its welfare ; but before her purpose could be accomplished,
she was railed away ; and from necessity she was borne to
the very place where she could not bear that the remains
of her friends should lie. Last year, another effort was
made — by those, whom, if they were not present, I might
name with the praise which they deserve. The means to
conduct the enterprise have been liberally supplied by
those who could have no hope of gain, nor even requital
for the efforts and sacrifices they made. There were some,
who would have selected a different place ; but with that
generosity which it is more common to hear of than to see,
they gave up their own preferences, and showed that they
cared for nothing but the general good. Have we not
reason to hope that this will be secured? Nature has
made this place beautiful, and the purpose for which it is
now set apart will make it an attractive and delightful re-
sort in every state of feeling — to the sorrowful and the
happy — to- the aged and the young. I am persuaded that
nothing has been done in this village since its history be-
gan, which will tend so much to improve and refine it, as
what you are doing now. Observe that small fountain,
whose sweet voice you hear! It gathers the streams,
which formerly ran unseen through the meadow, and lifts
them up to the eye in graceful silver falls. And in like
manner this place and this enterprise will assemble streams

20

of good taste and feeling which formerly ran to waste, and
from them produce results which shall be grateful to every
eye, and inspiring to every heart When the native of
this town, after long absence, returns to the home of his
fathers, he will walk the streets, and all whom he meets
there will be strangers; he will inquire concerning familiar
dwellings, and the names of their inhabitants will be new ;
when he meets his old acquaintance, he will find that they
know not the Joseph of former days. He will be forlorn
and solitary ardong the living, and will not feel at home
till he comes to the mansions of the dead. Here he will
find the guardians and the playmates of former years ;
here will be all whom he used to reverence and love ; and
here his heart will overflow with emotions such as no tongue
can adequately tell.

Reflect how many tenants will soon be here, to claim
their freehold in the dust below. One fair and gentle
child has already come — a fitting herald to take possession
in the* name of all the dead. Here he has laid himself
down on a colder pillow than a mother's breast Many
such will soon be here — morning stars quenched in the
brightness of their rising— before they have known the
stains and sorrows of life below. Children, in tender years
will follow their parents to this place ; the domestic circle
will be fearfully broken, and thenceforth the wide world
will be their home. The husband will follow the wife—
the light and joy of his desolated home; and the wife the
husband, on whose strong arm she had hoped to lean through
all her days. The young, sinking under the slow torture
of wasting disease, will flee away and be at rest in this
holy ground; the aged, after years of labor and sorrow,
will depart to this place in peace. The pale marbles will

21

rise everywhere around us, telling of the dead, sometimes
what they were, but still oftener what they ought to
have been.

We are here to day to consecrate these grounds. And
we consecrate them in the name of "Him that liveth, and
was dead." We consecrate them to the service of our
heavenly Father — to the influences of his Spirit — to the
kingdom of his Son. We consecrate them to the sacred
repose of the dead, and the religious improvement of the
living; we consecrate them to all kind affections — to
heavenward hopes — to the tears of love — to the consola-
tion of grief. We consecrate them to the growth of Chris-
tian principles — to the power of Christian emotions.
Heaven has made it a land of streams and fountains, a
land of vallies and hills ; and now may a stronger and
deeper interest be given to it than beauty can ever bestow ;
and may the blessing of God be upon it from the be-
ginning to the end of the year.

But when we consecrate this place in the Saviour's

name, it should remind us of the promises of the gospel

Many of us have been at his table, to commemorate his

dying love to-day. When he sat, with his disciples, at the

last supper, the bread and the wine passed untasted by

him ; he said that he would not share them again till they

met in the kingdom of God. So then, happy meetings

were yet before them, and that parting was not the last

What a world of bright promise to the faithful do those

simple words bestow. It spreads out in a thousand forms

of hope, each one of which is a ray of glory to some

afflicted heart. The mother for example — the Rachel

weeping for her children, but not refusing to be comforted,

because she has surrendered them to her Father and their
4

22

Father, to her God and their God^—she may lift up
her eyes and look forward to the time when she shall go
to those who cannot return to her — when they shall be
the first to meet her at heaven's gate, and with bright and
glad voices, bid her welcome to their own happy home.

" 0, when the mother meets on high
The babe she lost in infancy,—
Hath she not then, for all her fears,

The day of woe, the sleepless night,
For all her sorrows, all her tears,

An over-payment of delight ? "

But the hour is wasting; I see by the lengthening
shadows that the sun is sinking low. I see that some, who,
when I began to speak, were in the sunshine, are now in
the evening shade. And some, who are now in the full
sunshine of prosperity and gladness, will soon be covered
with the awful shadow of death. We shall soon leave
this ground — never again thus to assemble, till we meet
in the dust below. The day is going down ; the darkness
of night will soon settle on these hills and vales. The
season is declining; the red leaf is already hung as a
signal from the tree, and the winds of autumn will soon
be heard singing their vesper hymn. The year is waning ;
the trumpet of the winter storms will soon be sounded ;
they will sweep through these leafless woods, and rush and
howl over the habitations of death. Let us feel then, for
it is true, that every fading year — every fall of the leaf—
every closing day, and every toll of the funeral bell is
measuring our dead march to the grave.

Let us prepare then, since, prepared or not, we must go.
Let us have the only preparation that can avail us in the
dying hour. Let us * so number our days as to apply our
hearts unto wisdom. " Let us say to Him who made us,

23

u The grave cannot praise thee ; death cannot celebrate
thee; but the living, the living, he shall praise thee as we
dothisday." May we so spend our days in his service,
that in the hour which is not far from any one of us, we
may look forwarf ^ iopoa Ml of iJnorWi* 7-d
when the cares of this short life are over, through Him
who lived, and labored, and died upon the cross to save
us, may we serve him in nearer presence, and with angels'
powers on high.