..vlOSAwCFlfj-^^ FrAl!FO% ^OFCALIFO.Po kavsani^'^ '^(JAavaani'^ ^tjijonysoi^ ^/ja3AiNn]i\v^ ^oxi ^^yEUNIVFR^ [•UNIVER% -0)| ^lOSMElfj-^ EUNIVERy/A %a]AiNn3rtV ^lOSANCElfj-;^ UDNvsoi^"^" "^aaAiNniiw '^ <^- AWr ^1 % ^ ^— ' ' -5:' . t^WE UNIVERSy/, •^CJlJDNVSOl^ ^v^lOS-ANGFlfj-^ ^ "^/iaBAiNdjyw^ ^^.^lIBRARYOc, <■ ^^Mfl!MVfR% O Li. "^iOJIlVDJO^ '^.i/OJIlVJJO'^ :10SANCflfr^ ■v/saaAiNnmv aofcaiifo/?^ .aofcaiifop,<^ ^ s I o ^MF■llNIVERy/A ^ E UNIVERJ/^, .vlOSASCElfT;, WNVSOI^"^' ''^Aa3AINlT3\\V ^^t•LIBRARYQ^ ^tllBRARY AMIBRARYO/ o .5' c^ %a]AIN(1H\V^ '<^\\ UNIVERV/A ^vj.inSANCElfj-;>. l^ c ^WEUNIVERy/A o ^lOSANCftfj> - , ,, GO , -< ^^tllBRARYOc ^OJIlVDJO'i^ ^illBRAR^ lT7 >- ^MEUNIVERi'//, 7- 1^1 ^.JOJIIVJJO^ Aiivjian# "^^Aavaaiii^ ^tjudnvsoi^ ^lOSANCflfj-^ ^OFCAllFOff^ vAdjAiNnrnv •5 -— '» »• 5 ,^;OF•CA1IFO% ^ _. o :5 ,-^1 I. 27 ^OAavaaii^- ^WEUNIVER% . %a3AiNn3ftV -v^lUBRARYO/c A^tUBRARYQc. %jnV3J0>' '^ > o O li. A^lllBRARYOc ^JITVDJO'f^ (MEUNIVERJ/^ ^lOSANCElfj> o " T?in'.Y';oi'^ ^OFCAllFOff^ ^4;0FCAllF0ff^ >&A!iv!(!]iT\\'^ ^OAavaaii-1^ ^WEUNIVERS'/A o ^lOSANCElfx> ^a. ^0FCA1IF0%, 'ARYOc. ^tllBRARYO/r '^.aojiivD jo't^ ^40JnV3J0't^ .^\^E•UNIVERVA ,s>;lOSANCE[fj> M'(Ahm\'?> "T ,<^tllBRARYQ^ '^^.aojiivD-jo^' ^tllBRARYGr '^.yojiivjjo'^ ,^\^^L■Nl\ %13DNVS01^^ ^OFCAIIFOR^ ^^,0F CAUFOff,]^ ©Aavaan-^^ ^OAavaani^ .^MEUNIVERy/A ^lOSANCElf/^ o %a3AIN(l-3i\V ^OFCALIFOfti^ ^OFCAllFOff^ ^OAavaaii# ^OAavaani'^'^ ^WE•yNIVERS/A \zS A-0 i'iUONVSOl^ ■^/ia3AIN(1-3WV^ ^lllBRARYQc. ^^tllBRARYO/C :0 ^- — o ^lOSANCElfj> %a3AINn-3l\V^ ^ILIBRARYO^ ^MEUNIVERJ/^ ^lOSANCElfT/ "^AajAINlllftV ^OFCAllFOff^ >&A!i\'XPnAS^ ^0FCAIIF0% I ^OAavaan-^^ \MEUNIVERJ'/A. vKlOSANCElfj> o ^^^ ■ "^ajAiNnjftv "FCALIFOfiV >OAavaan'^v> ^;^tllBRARYOr^ ^OFCAllFOff^ ^^■IIBRARYQ^ %0JI1VJJU'- ^OFCAllFOft)^ \S ■jjijj;iv:iui'^ ^ameunivers-/^ ^ CC 111 ■■■ p. ^ =_j5 " 5 'ii ^—N-- UMT ILLUSTRATED. i5igl)hj irini0l)c& Cine (J5ngraDing, FROM DRAWINGS TAKEN ON THE SPOT, BY JAMES SMILLIE. DESCRIPTIVE NOTICES, BY CORNELIA W. WALTER. NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY R. MARTIN, 170 BROADWAY. 1847. 146612 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1847, By ROBERT MARTIN, In the Clerk's Office of tlie District Court of tlic United States for the Southern District of New York. MOUNT AUBURN. [Bryant. " Here I have 'scaped the city's stifling heal, Its horrid sounds, and its polluted air ; And, where tlie season's milder fervors beat, And gales that sweep the forest borders, bear The song of birds and sound of running stream, Am come awhile to wander and to dream." " And northern pilgrims, with slow, lingering feet. Stray round each vestige of thy loved retreat. And spend in homage half one sunny day, Before they pass upon their wandering way." The beautifal forest-tract which has been chosen, by so many of the citizens of Boston and its environs, as a fitting spot to be the last rest- ing-place of the living when dust shall be returned to its original dust, has emphatically a history of its own — a history not more of data, possession, and original ownership, than of thoughts and contempla- tions. An unwritten history, it is true, it must ever be ; but if those thickly wooded vales, yet fresh with the growth of centuries, could be endowed with language, many an ethical and pathetic story could they tell. Volumes of varied material might they give, woven of the heart-thoughts of countless wayfaring pilgrims, who have sought a couch and canopy under the spreading branches of the umbrageous trees, to meditate on present plans and future prospects, ere launching 6 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. their barks upon the ocean of life, and whilst nerving themselves to breast the adverse billows, — liaping to float calmly upon prosperous waves. " Anticipation shadows forth enjoyments which we never realize ; and though hope should fill the chalice to overflowing, disap- pointment may draw off its waters whilst our parched lips are quiver- ing at the brim." Happy hours, however, dwell in the memory precisely as man has passed through them ; and, as " a thing of beauty is a joy forever," so those periods of meditation which have been de- rived from the enticements of Mount Auburn, will remain constantly fixed in the recollection, as bright oases in the pilgrimage of life. We have heard of a venerable octogenarian, who for sixty-five years made annual visits to this seat of many a boyish ramble, every summer bringing with it an increase of pleasure, even as time brought to the old man a decrease of strength. But the pleasure was in contempla- tion ; the gratification was derived from his better views of life. In youth he sought the rustic spot, to chase the gray-squirrel from her nest, — to gather wild-flowers midst the dark green woods, — or to carve his name upon the bark of the noble trees, in a vain reaching after im- mortality ; — in middle life, he found yet other pleasures amid strange vicissitudes; — and in old age, he had learned the lesson that "he who anticipates the enjoyment of high-raised hopes, builds castles in the air, calculates on a meteor, anchors in a cloud." He had " a hope full of immortality," and ere he drew his last breath, he saw the scene of his wanderings converted into a field of the dead ! Then he deeply realized that "all that we behold is full of blessings," and he felt again a fulness of joy, — " Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved )icr." MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 7 Life is full of changes ; and Mount Auburn itself is an illustration of a change. A fairy region it has seemed to the traveller and stu- dent, who have sought its sequestration for the purposes of intellectual indulgence ; — a terrestrial paradise it has proved to all seekers after the beautiful in nature ; and, so enticing have been its groves, its scenery and associations, that it received long since, the significant appellation of " Sweet Auburn" — a name, as yet, unforgotten, though innovation has been at work, and the favorite resort of the promena- ding explorer, the inviting ground of the botanist, the charmed retreat of the thoughtful student, has become dedicated earth — a consecrated spot — a rural cemetery — a " garden of graves !" Who now will enter such a place, without the joy of elevated thought ? Faith interfuses itself throughout the whole of being, when we contemplate man's fu- ture destiny, and the soul's immortality ; and, in walking abroad with nature, amidst the graves of a departing generation, there is, in the language of Wordsworth, " A motion and a spirit that impels All thinking things, all objects of all thoughts. And rolls through all things." The eye of the mind never wilfully blinds itself amidst such a scene. Our very faith gives to us an awakened sense, and we are again well pleased, with the poet. " to recognise In nature and the language of the sense, The anchor of our purest thoughts ; the nurse, The guide, iho guardian of our hearts, and soul Of all our moral being." That which was once an unappropriated woodland, known as 8 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. " Stone's Woods," and more lovingly designated as " Sweet Auburn," has become a burial-place for the dead, having a peculiar affinity with the spirit-land, even while amidst the very rank and range of mortal being. The acacia and the willow now emulate each other in their melancholy offices of love, and gently bend over the graves of the loved and lost, as they were wont to wave over the brow of contemplation; and they now shed the dew of morning and evening upon the monu- ments of genius, as they erst have shaken off the sparkling drops upon the mighty men, of which the enduring stone has become the meet memorial. And it is indeed a fitting spot for such a purpose. The place which, as we have shown, has so courted the repose of the living, seems nat- urally to be appropriate for the sepulchre of the dead. The sombre shade of its groves, the solemn calm of all things around, appeal to the religious sense, and strike upon the mind as God's appointed indica- tions of a " field of peace ;' and the everywhere pervasive quiet is as an heaven-destined consecration for that "sleep which knows no waking." And now, let us look again around us. We gaze upon the monu- ments, mounds, and tombs ; we read the inscriptions and epitaphs with a pleasant feeling of veneration and reverence for those who have de- parted life in our own day and generation. The rural cemetery of Mount Auljurn is too newly planned for old associations ; and we wan- dor over the verdant earth which encloses so much of recently departed life, with a tide of rushing recollections. Not as the traveller or mod- ern Roman walks amongst the burial-ways of ancient Rome, and passes by the " nameless monuments of nameless existences, long since gone out amid the pnrpotual extinguishment of life ;" but with a deep MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 9 and clinging interest, as though we walked amongst a multitudinous kindred, and held high and ennobling converse with the beatified spirits of those cherished ones who are not lost to us, but only "gone before." It is hallowed ground on which we tread, and the deep, dark wood is holy. The monuments of Mount Auburn mark an earthly sepulchre ; but the spot itself with its abundant and impressive beau- ties, is, as it were, the inscril)ed Monument of Nature to the never- fading greatness of the supreme Judge of both quick and dead — the invincible Arbiter of our fate, both here and hereafter ! Heathen must be that heart which does not worship the Almighty amidst these consecrated fanes. To the true imagination, God should be seen in the bright light which beams in the noontide over those wavy forest- trees ; he should be heard in the wind-murmurings which make the leaves rustle, and sway the tender grass ; he should be felt " in the sorrows which, to the heart of sympathy, are living all around us, in the gentle sighings of bereft companions and friends !" MOUNT AUBURN CEMETERY. We are " strangers and sojourners" here. We have need of " a possession of a burying- place that we may bury our dead out of our sight." Let us have " the field and the cave which is therein ; aad all the trees that are in the field, and that are in the borders round about ;" and let them " be made sure for a possession of a burying-place." It appears from the various published records, and it is gratefully admitted by a more than satisfied public, that Mount Auburu Cemetery owes its origin to Dr. Jacob Bigelow, of Boston, the present president of the Corporation — a gentleman who early became im- pressed with the impolicy of burials under churches or in church- yards approximating closely to the abodes of the living. By him the plan for the rural cemetery was first conceived, and the first meeting on the subject called at his house in November, 1825. The project met the favorable consideration of his friends, among whom were various individuals, whose judgment in such matters was known to be correct, and whose influence proved to be effective. Included in the number were the late Judge Story, the late John Lowell, Esq., the late George Bond, Esq., the Hon. Edward Everett, Wm. Sturgis, Esq., Gen. Dearborn, Nathan Hale, Esq., Thomas W. Ward, Esq., Samuel P. Gardner, Esq., John Taj)pan, Esq., and others. No suitable place, however, was fixed upon until nearly five years afterwards, wlien Dr. Bigolow obtained from George W. Brimmer, Esq., the overluic ol ilic l;nid then called "Sweet Auburn," for the purpose of MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 11 a cemetery. The Massachusetts Horticultural Society was established in 1829, and, whilst in its infancy, and when the project for the cemetery also was but in embryo, it was thought by the parties concerned, that i by an union of the objects of each, the success and prosperity of both would be finally insured. The Horticultural Society, after due con- sideration, decided to purchase the land of Mr. Brimmer (then comprising about 72 acres) for .1?6000, and it was determined to devote it to the purposes of a rural cemetery, and experimental garden. The ground was enclosed and consecrated in September, 1831. The Experimental Garden, owing to reasons unnecessary to introduce here, was subsequently relinquished ; and, after a certain time, the proprietors of the Cemetery lots resolved to purchase the land from the Horticultural Society, and to appropriate its whole extent as a place of interment. This arrangement was amicably made, and an Act of Incorporation by the Legislature was obtained by the new proprietors in 1835, by which the Cemetery is exempted from public taxes, and its management vested in a Board of Trustees. From this moment the enterprise prospered, as so admirable an un- dertaking, and one so entirely divested of all selfish interests of pecuniary gain, might be expected to do. The Rural Cemetery of Mount Auburn, in Massachusetts, has been the example and pattern of every similar institution in the United States. It was commenced long before any other was thought of, and it has struck a chord, the vibrations of which were destined to be felt throughout our country. Besides the very important business of laying out the ground in avenues, paths, and lots, it was a part of the original design to build a suitable gateway, a building for the superintendent, a strong and 12 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. durable enclosure, a chapel, aud an observatory on the top of the highest eminence ; to procure the draining of some of the low land, so as to make it available for cemetery purposes, and to amass a permanent fund to keep it in good order. Most of these objects have been attained, as our after pages will show, and a permanent fund may be considered as already secure. Enough money to have formed such a fund has already been received over and above ex- penses ; but it has wisely been thought advisable for the present, to appropriate such surplus to those permanent and utilitarian im- provements, which would exhibit this pattern Cemetery to the world as a great and laudable undertaking — a wholly successful enterprise. Ever since the first incorporation of the institution, much of its care has, by the Trustees, been vested in the discretion of Dr. Bige- low, and by him the designs of the stone gateway, the iron fence, and the new chapel, have been made. That admirable man and eminent jurist, Joseph Story, LL.D.,\\ as the first President, and gave his influential support to the establish- ment during its infancy. He delivered the consecrating address, he frequented its walks, and engaged in its concerns with a truly parental interest, which lasted while his life continued. General H. A. S. Dearborn gave his aid in a disinterested and indefatigable manner. By him the capacities of the ground were studied, and the avenues and paths chiefly laid out, whilst the belt of trees in front of the Cemetery was planted at his expense. The late George W. Brimmer, Esq., the proprietor of the seventy- two acres first ol)taiiu'd l>y the society, liberally disposed of it for its present purpose at cost, and freely bestowed both his time and cultivated taste upon its eari\ improvement. MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 13 Charles P. Curtis, JSlSq., by liis financial and legal services ren- dered important assistance during the formation of the institution, and has been an active trustee from the beginning. The late Geokue Bo.nd, Esq., was an early and ardent friend of the enterprise, and during his lifetime, performed many essential services in furtherance of the objects of the society. — Martin Brim- mer, late Mayor of Boston, James Read, Isaac Parker, B. A. Gould, B. R. Curtis, Esqrs., and the late Joseph P. Bradlee, Esq., were its early and active supporters. We mention these brief facts in proof that earnestness of purpose, combined with individual enthusiasm and perseverance, can securely carry into effect any laudable and practicable undertaking. Mount Auburn Cemetery had a diligent and clear-sighted projector, and an influential board to carry out the necessary designs — who began with properly directed views in regard to the benefit of living humanity. It has therefore gone on and prospered. Already its limits have been extended by a new purchase of land, and it now covers one hundred and ten acres. Upwards of one thousand two hundred proprietors have purchased lots of varied extent, and there is room enough for vast additions to the numbers of the buried dead. " Mount Auburn," said the lamented Storv, in his Consecration Ad- dress, " in the noblest sense, belongs no longer to the living, but to the dead. It is a sacred, it is an eternal trust. It is consecrated ground. May it remain forever, inviolate !" The distance of Mount Auburn from the metropolis of Massachu- setts is about four miles. It is partly within the limits of Cambridge and Watertovvn, and is situated on the south side of the main road leading from the first-named town to the last. The Cemetery is laid 14 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. out, thus far, iu twenty-three intersecting avenues, and about seventy- four foot-paths ; and here we may be permitted to re-appropriate the lines of the poet, in applying to natural beauty what he so properly condemns in the formal school of his time ; and to say literally, in view of the forest umbrageousness of these numerous openings, that " tree nods to tree, Each alley has its brother." The avenues arc winding in their course and exceedingly beautiful in their gentle circuits, adapted picture.sqitely to the inequalities of the sur- face of the ground, and producing charming landscape effects from this natural arrangement, such as could never be had from straightness or regularity. Various small lakes, or ponds of different size and shape, embellish the groimds ; and some of these have been so cleansed, deepened, and banked, as to present a pleasant feature in this wide- spread extent of forest loveliness — this ground of hallowed purpose. The gates of the enclosure are opened at sunrise and closed al sunset, and thither crowds go up to meditate, and to wander in a field of peace ; to twine the votive garlanjd around the simple head- stone, or to sow the seed of floral life over the new-made grave — fit emblems of our own growth, decay, and death. Moimt Auburn appears to be "the lir.st example in modern times of so large a tract of ground being selected for its natural beauties, and submitted to the processes of landscape gardening, to prepare it for the reception of the dead." The present price of a lot is Si 00 for three hundred superficial square feel, jiiid in proportion for a larger lot. Tiie nuniI)or of monu- ments already erected, amounts to nearly ilircc iiundrcd, many of MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 15 wliich are elegant and costly. Limited pecuniary means will proba- bly ever be a reason why the majority of these tributes to the departed will be of a simple character, and erected at small expense. But good taste, happily, is not subservient to the power of gold, and should ever be consulted even in the sin)plest memorial. The wealth \\ hicli justifies large expenditures is not always successfully applied, and we have seen sepulchral structures of high cost, which, to the beholder, admitted of no other feeling than that they were monuments of the bad taste of the designer. An understanding of purely classic forms, and a chaste taste, will cause an enduring memorial to be placed over a departed friend, which shall be a model of unpretending beauty ; but a false taste will erect a clumsy mass of granite or mar- ble, which shall exhibit, perhaps, a futile effort to surpass others, and be in reality an architectural abomination. The grassy and elevated mound duly planted with the flowers of the revolving seasons, and watered by the hand of affection, is a far better and more pleasing monument than an unsuccessful effort of the other kind, and infinitely more grateful to the traveller's eye. "I have seen," says the venerable Chateaubriand, "memorable monuments to Crassus and to Caesar, but I prefer the airy tombs of the Indians, those mausoleums of flowers and verdure refreshed by the morning dew, embalmed and fanned by the breeze, and over which waves the same branch where the blackbird builds his nest, and utters forth his plaintive melody." To render Mount Auburn or any other rural burial-place all that it ought to be in the way of monumental beauty, the utmost care should be paid to the classic selection and proper variety of its sepulchral devices — its cenotaphs, monoliths, and obelisks; and they should be constructed of material least calculated to be impaired by the 16 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. influences of time and weather. Neatness should always be observed in the cultivation of that floral growth which constitutes another kind of burial offering. The flowers planted on or around the spot of in- terment, whilst as far as possible maintaining their natural appear- ance, should never be permitted to run together and crowd like weeds, but should be so carefully trained, separated, and arranged, as to impress the passer-by with a sure feeling that those interred beneath, have a perpetual memory in the hearts of the survivors ; that they are dulv cared for as perennial memorials of the love of friends, or, what is more comforting still, as symbols and types of the resurrection ! " Then will we love the modest flower, And cherish it with tears ; It minds us of our fleeting time, Yet chases all our fears. "And when our hour of rest shall be, We will not weep our doom ; So angel-mission'd flowers may come And gather round the tomb !" THE PORTAL. ' Speak low ! the place is holy to the breath Of awful harmonies, of whisper'd prayer ; Tread lightly ! for the sanctity of death Broods with a voiceless influence on the air : Stern, yet serene I a reconciling spell. Each troubled billow of the soul to quell." The main entrance to this favored "haunt of nature" — this solemn, and now consecrated fane — exemplifies the beauty of adaptation to the dignity of a mighty sepulchre, — one of those forest-groves which the poet has called the " first temples" of the Almighty — one of those ancient sanctuaries, which had their being long " Ere man had learn'd To hew the shaft and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them." Originally the portal was of wood, rough-cast, in imitation of stone, and the connected paling on either side was of wood also. The lofty entrance-gate has now been reconstructed, in granite, in the same style of architecture as at first — the Egyptian — and it presents to the 18 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. beholder au imposing structure, the very massiveness and complete workmanship of which, insures au almost eternal duration. It is less heavy, however, than the common examples of that style. Its piers have not the pyramidal or sloping form so common in Egyptian edi- fices, but are made vertically erect, like the more chaste examples in the great portals of Thebes and Denderah. The massive cornice by which it is surmounted is of a single stone, measuring 24 feet in height by 12 in breadth. It is ornamented with the "winged globe" and fluted foliage of the Egyptian style, and bears underneath this inscription, in raised letters, between its filleted mouldings : — "Then shall the Dust return to the Karth as it was, and the Spirit shall RETURN unto GoD WHO GAVE IT." "MOUNT AUBURN. Consecrated Septejiber 24, 1831." The two low structures at the sides, are rooms occupied as the porter's lodge, and the office of the superintendent. As regards monuments or designs of the Egyptian style, for places of Christian iiilcnncnl, wo are aware that an objection made to tliciii lias been, that they mark a period anterior to Christian civili/.a- tioii — a [xriod of relative degradation and paganism; but it has ever been ;i pleasure willi llic iboughtful, to look beyond the actual ajipcar- ance of a (igure, to the right development of its original idea. The now niythologizcd doctrines of Egypt, seem to have been liie original THE PORTAL. 19 source of others more ciiuobling ; and liieroglyphical discoveries liave traced, and are tracing them far beyond the era of the pyramids, to an unknown limit, but to a pure, sacred, and divine source. When the art of writing was unknown, the primeval Egyptians resorted to sym- bols and emblems to express their faith ; and these, as correctly inter- preted, certainly present many sublime ideas in connection with those great truths which in an after age constituted the doctrines of " Chris- tianity!' Some of their sculptures and paintings were undoubtedly symbolical of the resurrection of the soul, a dread of the final judg- ment, and a belief in Omnipotent justice. The very iryramidal shape, of which the Egyptians were so fond, is believed to indicate an idea not disgraceful to a wholly Christian era. The reason why this form was chosen for their tombs, is declared by the learned Rosellini to have been, because it represented the mountain, the holy hill, the divine sanctuary cut in the mountain, i. e., the tomb. The mountain was sacred among the Egyptians as the abode of the dead, and was identical with the sepxdchre, the nether world, and their Amenti, the future state. The image or figure of a hill became an emblem of death, and the pyramidal form, which imitated it, was a funereal symbol — an object consecrated to the abode of the departed. The "winged globe," which is carved on the gateway of Mount Auburn, is a most beautiful emblem of benign protection. In the form of a sun, with outstretched wings, it covers the facades of most Egyptian buildings, and was the primitive type of the divine wisdom — the universal Pro- tector. We do not know of a more fitting emblem than this for the abode of the dead, which we may well suppose to be overshadowed with the protecting wings of Him who is the great author of our being — the "giver of hfe and death." 20 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. The gateway of JNIouut Auburn opens from what is known as the old Cambridge road, and in front of Central Avenue, on the north boundary hue of the Cemetery. This avenue forms a wide carriage- road, and is one of the most beautiful openings ever improved for such a purpose. With the exception of the necessary grading, levelling, and cutting down of the brushwood, and the planting of a few trees, it has been left as Nature has made it. On either side it is overshadowed by the foliage of forest-trees, firs, pines, and other evergreens ; and here you first begin to see the monuments starting up from the sur- rounding verdure, like bright remembrances from the heart of earth. In 1844, the increasing funds of the corporation justified a new ex- penditure for the plain but massy iron fence which encloses the front of the Cemetery. This fence is ten feet in height, and supported on granite posts extending four feet into the ground. It measures half a mile in length, and will, when completed, effectually preserve the Cem- etery inviolate from any rude intrusion. The cost of the gateway was about SlO.OOO— the fence, $15,000. A continuation of the iron fence on the easterly side is now under contract, and a strong wooden palisade is, as we learn, to be erected on the remaining boundary during the present year. THE BINNEY MONUMENT. " A lovely shrine ! a cherub form Extended on its marble bed As if the gentle dews of sleep Had droop'd the little floweret's head. Fair image ! spotless as the snow ; Pure as the angel shape below, When first that lifeless sleeper came, In the brown mould to rest its frame.'' The monumeut of wliicli the engraving gives so pleasing a view, is in Yarrow Path, and tlie ligurc itself is a most accurate resem- blance of the cherub child of whose image it is the embodiment. It is the work of Henry Dexter, an artist of taste and reputation, and was taken just as the original lay on her pallet after death ; — even the indenture on the bed, made by the body, is strikingly represented ; the hands are crossed upon the breast, and the feet bare, and crossed likewise. When first finished, in all the shining purity of the marble, the statue, notwithstanding the coldness of the substance, seemed to have an actual life about it. In its recumbent posture, and with the pillowed head, it appears indeed like an infant sleeping : — " She had no pulse, but death seem'd absent still." The "marble bed" upon which this infant figure reposes, is surrounded with four small columns, and the finished work is a meet memo- 22 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. rial of departed iimocence aud beauty. It reminds us of the lost child of the Indian mother, whom Chateaubriand describes as coming to plant flowers itpon the turf where reposed her departed infant, whom she thus addresses : — " Why should I deplore thy early grave, oh ! my first-born ? When the uewly fledged bird first seeks his food, he finds many bitter grains. Thou hast never felt the pangs of sorrow, and thy heart was never polluted by the poisonous breath of man. The rose that is nipped in the bud, dies enclosed with all its perfumes, like thee, my child, with all thy innocence. Happy are those who die in infancy ; they have never known the joys or sorrows of a mother." This expression of chastened grief is as touching as it is pure. We cannot forget, in its connection, the promise of Him who said of little children, " of such is the kingdom of heaven." This beautiful monument, so much visited by wanderers over Mount Auburn, exhibits the first marble statue executed in Boston, and it marks the lot of C. J. F. Binney, Esq., of Boston. There are now but two personal representations in Mount Auburn, and this is one of them. Monumental tributes of this class are as yet rare in our country, though no style can be more appropriate in memory of buried friends. The following verses form an impromptu tribute, on beholding the marble memorial in Yarrow Path : — " The dread power of heaven alone can restore That life to the dead, whicli it gave them before ; lint man's lofty genius can rescue from death, The last lovely look, the last smile, the last breath. " The sculptor, in marble, a life can restore, That never will perish till time be no more ; Thus the great, the ingenious, the lovely and pure, l''or example, applause, and affection endure." #J '^3 THE NAVAL MONUMENT. " And long they look'd, but never spied The welcome step agaiji." " Near the deep was the slaughter, And there the sudden blow, Brave blood pour'd out like water, — The vengeance of the foe." The principal obelisk represented in the opposite engraving, is a lofty cenotaph of pure white marble, ornamented on the four sides with festoons of roses in relievo, and presenting altogether a monument of good proportion, strikingly chaste and simple. It is erected to the memory of four officers of the United States Exploring Expedition, the melancholy termination of whose lives is here briefly recorded by the surviving companions of their noble and perilous enterprise. Their melancholy fate was not met in the reckless pursuit of gain, nor in the mad chase after military glory; but in the nobler and equally 24 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. daring career of the pioneers of civilization, in extending the bounds of humanity and science, whilst surveying unknown seas for the benefit and security of those who were to come after them. The fate of two of the young officers — passed midshipmen James W. Reid and Frederic A. Bacon — whose names are recorded upon the marble, is shrouded in obscurity. Among the vessels of the expe- dition, were two New York pilot-boats, called the Flying-fish and the Seagull, — the latter commanded by Mr. Reid, who had with him Mr. Bacon and fifteen men. The other vessels having sailed from Orange Bay, near Cape Horn, on the 28th April, 1839, these two small vessels also took their departure for Valparaiso. A heavy gale came on during that night, and the Flying-fish returned to her anchorage, hav- ing lost sight of the Seagull. The other vessels arrived in safety, but the little Seagull was never heard of more. The commodore of the Pacific station, some time afterwards, dispatched a man-of-war to search the shores of Terra d(>l Fuego — but it was in vain. She is supposed to have foundered in the boisterous seas off Cape Horn, when all on board must have perished. Lieut. Wilkes, commander of the expedition, speaks of those two officers as having no superiors in the squadron, for the station they occupied. " They brought with them into the expedition," he says, "a high character; and during the short period in which tlioy were attached to it. they were distinguished for their devotcduess to llie arduous service in which they were engaged." jNFr. Bacon was a native of Connecticut. Mr. Reid, a native of Geor- gia, son of the late Ciov. Reid of I'lorid;!. On the reverse side of this ecn(il;i|ili, tiie inscription reads as follows: — THE NAVAL MONUMENT. 25 TO THE MEMORY OF Lieutenant JOSEPH A. UNDERWOOD, AND Midshipman WILKES HENRY, WHO FELL BY THE HAKDS OF SAVAGES, WHILST PROMOTING THE CAUSE OF SCIENCE AND PHILANTHROPY, At MoLOLO, ONE OF THE FejEE GROUP OP IsLANDS, July 24, 1840. The sanguinary and barbarous character of the Fejee islanders, has long been a theme of marvel to the whalers and traders to the Pacific, but the atrocity of their premeditated and entirely unprovoked attack upon poor Underwood and his party, has rarely been surpassed. These officers had boldly gone on shore to procure provision from the natives, when they were suddenly attacked by some of the cannibals of the place, and killed by club wounds. All the usual precautions in dealing with these treacherous savages were adopted : a native, supposed at that time to be a chief, secured in the boat as hostage, and the remainder of the party, with the boats and arms, being ready for any emergency. But alas ! the wily canni- bals had laid their plans with a too fatal certainty. Having lured Mr. Underwood and his party on shore, and whilst their attention was en- gaged in bartering, the hostage leaped overboard, making his escape ; and at the same moment, as if by preconcerted signal, the natives sprang from their hiding-places, and fell upon them with spears and war-clubs, in overpowering numbers. And here it was that the cool- ness and heroic, self-sacrificing spirit of the officers shone forth glo- 26 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. riously, — exposing their own lives in covering the retreat of the men, Avho all made their escape, while Underwood and Henry, after a short conflict, were beaten down by the war-clubs of the fell destroyers. Such was the tragic fate of these brave men, in connection with which there is but one alleviating circumstance — that their bodies were rescued from the savage foe. Though interred leagues from home and kindred, where no tear of affection could water the bier, they received a Christian sepulture, where the thick trees wave over their hidden graves, and where, ten miles from the place of the massacre, the everlasting rocks will be their eternal monument ! Their bodies were transported to one of the sand-islands of a neighboring group, and, wrapped in their country's flag, were suitably interred there. The following affecting passage in relation to this melancholy service, is from Capt. Wilkes' Narrative of the Exploring Expedition: — " Twenty sailors, (all dressed in white,) with myself and officers, landed to pay this last mark of affection and respect to those who had shared so many dangers with us, and of whom we were so suddenly bereaved. The quiet of the scene, the solemnity of the occasion, and the smallness of the number who assisted, were all calculated to pro- duce an unbroken silence. The bodies were quietly taken up and borne along to the centre of the island, where stood a grove of ficus trees, whose limbs were entwined in all directions by running vines. It was a lonely and suitable spot, in a shade so dense that scarce a ray of the sun could penetrate it. The grave was dug deep and wide in tiic pure white sand, and the funeral service read over the remains with such deep feeling, that none will forget the impression of that sad half hour. After the bodies had been closed in, three volleys were fired over the grave, and every precaution taken to erase all marks THE NAVAL MONUMENT. 27 that might indicate where these unfortunate gentlemen were interred. To fix a more enduring mark on the place, the island itself was named after young ' Henry,' and the cluster of which it forms one, ' Under- wood Group.' " The cenotaph at Mount Auburn stands upon Central Avenue, and tells the lingerer upon the spot, that it was erected to the memory of these unfortunate men, " by their associates, the officers and scientific corps of the United States Exploring Expedition." The other obelisk seen in the engraving, marks the lot of B. Fiske, Esq., of Boston. INTERMENT OF THE DEAD. In the first number of this work we have dwelt upon the natural and picturesque beauties of Mount Auburn, and have presented the reasons why this remarkable spot seemed eminently adapted for a re- pository of the dead, and a place of consolation to the living. We have thought it well to commence this second part with some more philosophical views of the advantage and necessity of suburban ceme- teries, such as form the subjects of these serial publications. For this purpose, we have made use of a lecture delivered in Boston, by Dr. BiGELow, at the time when the subject was first agitated among us. Some portions of this discourse we have inserted at length, and others in a condensed form. " The manner in which we dispose of the remains of our deceased friends, is a subject which has begun, of late, to occupy a large share of the public attention. It involves not only considerations which belong to the piil)lic convenience, but includes also the gratification of indi- vidual taste and the consolation of private sorrow. Although, in a strictly philosophical view, this subject possesses but little importance, except in relation to the convenience of survivors, yet so closely are INTERMENT OF THE DEAD. 29 our sympathies enlisted with it, and so inseparably do we connect the feelings of the living with the condition of the dead, that it is in vain that we attempt to divest ourselves of its influence. It is incumbent upon us, therefore, to analyze, as far as we may be able, the principles which belong to a correct view of the subject, — since it is only by un- derstanding these, that we may expect both reason and feeling to be satisfied." " The progress of all organized beings is towards decay. The com- plicated textures which the living body elaborates within itself, begin to fall asunder almost as soon as life has ceased. The materials of which animals and vegetables are composed, have natural laws and irresistible affinities, which are suspended during the period of life, but which must be obeyed the moment that life is extinct. These con- tinue to operate until the exquisite fabric is reduced to a condition in nowise different from that of the soil on which it has once trodden. In certain cases art may modify, and accident may retard the ap- proaches of disorganization, but the exceptions thus produced ^re too few and imperfect to invalidate the certainty of the general law. " If we take a comprehensive survey of the progress and mutations of animal and vegetable Ufe, we shall perceive that this necessity of individual destruction is the basis of general safety. The elements which have once moved and circulated in living frames, do not be- come extinct nor useless after death ; — they offer themselves as the materials from which other living frames are to be constructed. What has once possessed life is most assimilated to the living character, and most ready to partake of life again. The plant which springs from the earth, after attaining its growth and perpetuating its species, falls to the ground, undergoes decomposition, and contributes its remains to 30 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. the nourishment of plants around it. The myriads of animals which range the woods or inhabit the air, at length die upon the surface of the earth, and if not devoured by other animals, prepare for vegetation the place which receives their remains. Were it not for this law of nature, the soil would be soon exhausted, the earth's surface would be- come a barren waste, and the whole race of organized beings, for want of sustenance, would become extinct. " Man alone, the master of the creation, does not willingly stoop to become a participator in the routine of nature. In every age he has manifested a disposition to exempt himself, and to rescue his fellow, from the common fate of living beings. Although he is prodigal of the lives of other classes, and sometimes sacrifices a hundred inferior bodies to procure for himself a single repast, yet he regards with scru- pulous anxiety the destination of his own remains ; and much labor and treasure are devoted by him to ward off for a season the inevita- ble courses of nature. Under the apprehension of posthumous degra- dation, human bodies have been embalmed, — their concentrated dust has been enclosed in golden urns, — monumental fortresses have been piled over their decaying bones ; — with what success and with what use, it remains to be considered." A few instances are selected, in \\ hich measures have been taken to protect the human frame from decay, which will be seen to have been, in some cases, partially successful, in others not so. King Edward I. of England died in 1307. His body was embalmed, and buried in Westminster Abbey. About 467 years afterwards, a number of antiquarians obtained leave to open the sarcophagus, when the body was found in a high state of preservation. Another instance of nearly the same result is recollected in the INTERMENT OF THE DEAD. 31 body of King Cliailos I. This was found by accident at Windsor, in 1813, in the wall of the vault of Henry VIII. The coffin bore the inscription, "King Charles, 1648." Sir Henry Halford examined the body in tlie presence of the royal family, and has given to the world an interesting account of the examination. These are declared to be two of the most successful instances of posthumous preservation. In other embalmed bodies there have been very different results. The coffin of Henry VIII. was inspected at the same time with that of Charles, and found to contain nothing but the mere skeleton of the king. During the present century the sarcopha- gus of King John has also been examined : it contained little else than a disorganized mass of earth. The rapidity with which decomposition takes place in organic bodies, depends upon the particular circumstances under which they are placed. A certain temperature and a certain degree of moisture are indispensable agents in the common process of putrefaction ; and could these be avoided in the habitable parts of our globe, human bodies might last indefinitely. Where a great degree of cold exists, it tends powerfully to check the process of destructive fermentation ; and when it extends so far as to produce congelation, its protecting power is complete. Bodies of men have been found in a state of perfect preservation amongst the snows of the Andes and Alps ; and an ele- phant of an extinct species was found in 1806, imbedded in an ice- rock of the polar sea, having been first seen in this position in 1799. It required five summers to melt the ice so that the entire body could be liberated. These facts are sufficient to show that a low degree of temperature is an cfTectual preventive of animal decomposition. On the other hand, a certain degree of heat, combined with a dry atmo- 32 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. sphere, although a less perfect protection, is sufficient to check the destructive process. Warmth, combined with moisture, tends greatly to promote decomposition ; yet if the degree of heat, or the circum- stances under which it acts, are such as to produce a perfect dissipa- tion of moisture, the further progress of decay is arrested. In the arid caverns of Egypt, the dried flesh of mummies, although greatly changed from its original appearance, has made no progress towards ultimate decomposition, during two or three thousand years. " In the crypt under the cathedral of Milan, travellers are shown the ghastly relics of Carlo Borromeo, as they have lain for two centu- ries, enclosed in a crystal sarcophagus, and bedecked with costly finery of silk and gold. The preservation of this body is equal to that of an Egyptian mummy ; yet a more loathsome piece of mockery than it ex- hibits can hardly be imagined. " It will be perceived that the instances which have been detailed, are cases of extraordinary exemption, resulting from uncommon care,* or from the most favorable combination of circumstances, — such as can befall but an exceedingly small portion of the human race. The common fate of animal bodies is to undergo the entire destruction of their fabric, and the obliteration of their living features in a few years, and sometimes even weeks, after their death. No sooner does life cease, than the elements which constituted the vital body become sub- ject to the common laws of inert matter. The original affinities, which had been modified or suspended during life, are brought into operation ; the elementary atoms react upon each other ; the organ- ized structure passes into decay, and is converted into its original dust. Such is the natural, and we may add, the proper destination of the material part of all that has once moved and breathed. INTERMENT OF THE DEAD. 33 " The reflections which naturally suggest themselves, in contempla- ting the wrecks of humanity which have occasionally been brought to light, are such as to lead us to ask, — Of what possible use is a resist- ance to the laws of nature, which, when most successfully executed, can at best only preserve a defaced and degraded image of what was once perfect and beautiful 1 Could we by any means arrest the pro- gress of decay, so as to gather round us the dead of a hundred gener- ations in a visible and tangible shape ; could we fill our houses and our streets with mummies, — what possible acquisition could be more useless — what custom could be more revolting 1 For precisely the same reason, the subterranean vaults and the walls of brick, which we construct to divide the clay of humanity from that of the rest of crea- tion, and to preserve it separate for a time, as it were, for future in- spection, are neither useful, gratifying, nor ultimately effectual. Could the individuals themselves, who are to be the subjects of this care, have the power to regulate the officious zeal of their survivors, one of the last things they could reasonably desire would be, that the light should ever shine on their changed and crumbling relics. " On the other hand, when nature is permitted to take her course — when the dead are committed to the earth under the open sky, to be- come early and peacefiilly blended with their original dust, no unpleas- ant association remains. It would seem as if the forbidding and repulsive conditions which attend on decay, were merged and lost in the surrounding harmonies of the creation. " When the body of Major Andre was taken up, a few years since, from the place of its interment near the Hudson, for the purpose of being removed to England, it was found that the skull of that officer was closely encircled by a network formed by the roots of a smal 34 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. tree, which had been planted near his head. This is a natural and most beautifnl coincidence. It would seem as if a faithful sentinel had taken his post, to watcli till the obliterated ashes should no longer need a friend. Could we associate with inanimate clay any of the feelings of sentient beings, ^^ho would not wish to rescue his remains from the prisons of mankind, and connnit them thus to the embrace of nature ? " Convenience, health, and decency require that the dead should be earlv removed from our sight. The law of nature ordains that they should moulder into dust ; and the sooner this change is accomplished the better. This change should take place, not in the immediate con- tiguity of survivors, — not in frequented receptacles, provided for the promiscuous concentration of numbers, — not where the intruding light may annually usher in a new tenant, to encroach upon the old. It should take place peacefully, silently, separately — in the retired valley or the sequestered wood, where the soil continues its primitive exuber- ance, and where the earth has not become too costly to afford to each occupant at least his lengtli and breadth. " Within tlie bounds of populous and growing cities, interments can- not with propriety take place beyond a limited extent. The vacant tracts reserved for burial-grounds, and the cellars of churcbes which are converted into touibs, become glutted with inhabitants, and are iu the end obliged to be al)aud(iiH'd, though not, perhaps, until tlie original tenants have been ejected, and the same space has been occupied three or four successive times. Necessity obliges a recourse at last to be had to the neiglil)oriiig country; and hence in Paris, Loudon, Liv- erpool, Leghorn, and other I<)uropean cities, cemeteries have l)een constructed wiliioiit the confines of their jjopuiation. These places, INTERMENT OV THE DEAD. 35 in consequence of the sufficiency of the ground, and the funds which usually grow out of such estahlishnients, have been made the recipi- ents of tasteful ornament. Travellers are attracted by their beauty, and dwell with interest on their subsequent recollection. The scenes which, under most other circumstances, are repulsive and disgusting, are by the joint influence of nature and art rendered beautiful, at- tractive, and consoling." " We regard the relics of our deceased friends and kindred for what they have been, and not for what they are. We cannot keep in our presence the degraded image of the original frame ; and if some memorial is necessary to soothe the unsatisfied want which we feel when bereaved of their presence, it must be found in contemplating the place in which we know their dust is hidden. The history of mankind in all ages, shows that the human heart clings to the grave of its disappointed wishes, — that it seeks consolation in rearing em- blems and monuments, and in collecting images of beauty over the disappearing relics of humanity. This can be fitly done, not in the tumultuous and harassing din of cities, — not in the gloomy and almost unapproachable vaults of charnel-houses, — but amidst the quiet ver- dure of the field, under the broad and cheerful light of heaven, where the harmonious and ever-changing face of nature reminds us, by its resuscitating influences, that to die is but to live again." THE CHAPEL. " For the departed soul they raise A requiem sad, a psalm of praise." [MoLellan. " How full of consolation here may be The voice of him, whose office 'lis to give ' Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.' " [PlERPONT. In a spot consecrated to so holy a purpose as Mount Auburn, the propriety of a structure in wliich the last services may be performed over the dead, strikes the mind at once ; and with some denominations of Christians, is almost of absolute necessity. Amongst Episcopalians, for instance, the corpse is carried before the mourners, and preceded by the minister, who is required to read the burial service, " either en- tering the church or going towards the grave." Individuals of other sects, who have lost friends by death, have a preference, sometimes, that the service should be performed on the ground of interment, rather than in tlieir own houses, as is the eonunon eusloni. These ceremonies, in favorable weather, have been performed in the open THE CHAPEL. - 37 air, \\ hen a peculiar solemnity has been imparted to them ; but iu in- clement seasons, it is evident that such church requirements or personal feelings could not be gratified. The erection of a chapel at Mount Auburn u ould, it was known, obviate this difficulty, and be a gratifica- tion to sorrowing friends ; whilst such a building would also afford a suitable place for the reception of statues, busts, and other delicate pieces of sculpture, liable to injury from exposure to the weather. Within the past year such an edifice has been constructed. It is erected upon elevated ground, on the right of Central Avenue, not far from the entrance, and with its Gothic pinnacles pointing heaven- ward, forms a picturesque object, as a view of it is caught ever and anon from the various turnings. It is built of granite ; is 66 feet by 40 in dimensions ; with its decorations mostly taken from the continental examples in France and Germany. The exterior is surrounded with octagonal buttresses and pinnacles, and the clerestory is supported by Gothic pillars. Care has been taken to produce a certain kind of light in the interior, mellow, solemn, most in consonance with the especial object of the edifice, and, at the same time, such as would pleasingly reflect upon statuary and other decorations of sculpture. With reference to these effects, the light has been admitted only from the ends of the building, and above from the clerestory. The win- dows are of colored glass ; and as the broad mid-day light enters through them, it plays in prismatic hues upon the sombre columns and vaults, — relieves the gloom, — and reminds one by its radiance, as the bow in the clouds reminded Campbell, of the beautiful forms of angel goodness following the thunder and the storm ; coming, not severe in wrath, but with a garment of brightness ; and bringing a blessed mem- ory of the power of that high and holy One who made both the light 146812 38 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. and the darkness, — ordered life and death, mortality and innnor- taUty. In the head of the large nave window, Is a beautiful allegorical de- sign, representing peaceful death. It consists of a winged female figure asleep, and floating in the clouds, bearing in her arms two sleep- ing infants. The babes in the sweet repose of the mother's breast, and the whole ascending group in that sleep which indicates the loos- ening of the silver cord, forms a beautiful design, imperceptibly leading the beholder to sympathize with the mother's spirit, peacefully dream- ing, as it were, in the words of Mrs. Hemans, — " Free, free from earth-born fear, I would range the blessed skies, Through the blue divinely clear, Where the low mists cannot rise." The outline of this design is taken mainly from Thorwaldsen's cele- brated bas-relief of " Night," and well recalls the reunion of parentr and children in their final rest. In the centre of the rose-window which forms a conspicuous part of the front, is a painted design em- blematic of immortality, consisting of two cherubs from Raphael's Ma- donna di San Sisto, gazing upwards with their well-known expression of adoration and love, into what, in this instance, is a light or " glory," proceeding from beyond the picture. These windows have been made under the direction of Mr. Hay of Edinburgh, author of several philosophic treatises on the harmony of colors. They are executed by Messrs. Ballantyne and Allan, the artists who have been lately se- lected. Iiv tlie commissioners on the fine arts, lo make the wiiulows for llie new J louses of Parliamciil in London. The enlire cost of the TIIK CHAPEL. 39 chapel has hocu about $25,000 ; nearly a third of which sum was ob- taiucd by subscriptiou. We know not any domain (except it be the great world itself) that can better show forth the connection existing between taste and morals, than the various surface of a rural burial-place. The cultiva- tion of the hue arts may there be exhibited in a genuine spirit of beauty and of purity; and floriculture can be made lovingly to "tes- selate the floor of nature's temple." The poet there may gain new perceptions of truth and beauty from varied forms and shapes of be- ing ; and the writer of epitaphs, even, can exhibit the value of his occasional and unappreciated vocation, in the ability with which the judiciously written though brief inscription, may indicate the great Christian hope, and point to that life beyond the present, where the friends who are lost to us in this world enter upon a nobler existence. Thus it is seen that taste, whether exhibited in flower-crowned mounds, or in the chaste and classic monument, may exist in a rural cemetery, in close connection with morals ; and it is no less true, that every pure ideal of religion and virtue grows in beauty by the food upon which it feeds. In this way a progress towards excellence is at- tained, and the rural burying-place becomes the means to a great end. The resting-place of the dead, in this view, may be said to be as a city, " whose foundations arc garnished with all manner of precious stones, whose streets are of pure gold, and whose gates are of pearl." THE MONUMENT TO SPURZHEIM. " Land of the golden vine, Land of the lordly Rhino, Weep, distant land ! Weep for your son who caino Hither in Learning's name. Bearing her sacred flame In his pure hand." [McLellan. The monument to Spurzheim is a copy of that of Scipio Africanus at Rome, and is the first which meets the eye m liilst advancing into the cemetery from the main avenue. The simple name is the only record which it bears, — all other inscription or epitaph being left to the hand of fame, or to the suggestive imagination and peculiar feel- ings of such as may visit the shades Avlicre rest the remains of an energetic and hopeful foreigner. John Caspar Spurzheim was born in December, 177G, at Longvick, a village on the Mcrelle, about seven miles from the city of Treves, in the lower circle of the Rhine. He studied medicine at Vienna, and becoming a pupil of the celebrated Dr. CJall, almost outdid his teacher in liis cnlhusiasm lur ibe science (so called) of Phrenology. In 1805 THE MONUMENT TO SPURZIIEIM. 41 he uudertook, with his master, a course ol" travels through various parts of central Europe, to disseminate phrenological doctrines, and to examine the heads of criminals and others in the public institutions. Some of these examinations are said to have been very remarkable in their results ; and notwithstanding the opposition of the great Cuvier, these two sanguine associates were successful in leading a multitude of individuals to place full reliance in the possibility of ascertaining the intellectual and moral traits of man and animals, from the config- uration of their heads. Dr. Spurzheim pursued his travels also in England, Scotland, and France, the grand themes of his discourses beiug the anatomy, physiology, and pathology of the brain. As an anatomical investigator of the brain, his skill is universally acknowl- edged ; and in the development of the structure of this organ, his re- searches have been of much benefit to science. In 1821, he took up his residence in Paris, believing that in that vast city he should meet with the best opportunities of teaching his doctrines to students from all parts of the world. His lectures, however, were prohibited by the French government ; and in 1825 he passed over to London, where he published various works in connection with the peculiar subject of his favorite investigations, and also upon the functions of the nervous system. He visited the principal cities of England and Scotland, and gained converts to his doctrines in almost all of them. The propaga- tors of new opinions rarely fail to find supporters ; and the more inge- ruous the theory — the more fascinating the manner of the expounder, the more enthusiastic and stubborn are the proselytes who assume the defence. Time at length presents the touchstone of immortal truth ; and though it sometimes takes years to apply the test, yet delusion sooner or later subsides, where there is no foundation for its contin- 42 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. uance. At the present epoch, the confidence once placed in the doc- trines of the phrenologists appears to have much abated. Pure science has fixed laws which are ever true ; and there is a wide gulf between absolutely practical knowledge, and that belief which proceeds from unsubstantiated theory. The industry and zeal of Spurzheim might undoubtedly have been more subservient to the good of mankind, had they been applied to some other study than phrenology. In 1832, the indefatigable pupil of Gall determined to try a new field of labor, and he therefore sailed from Havre for the United States. He came to this country, it is said, with a twofold purpose : to study the genius and character of our people, and to propagate the doctrines of phrenology. His career in America is too well remem- bered to require any prolixity of detail in these pages. He was em- phatically an enthusiast, and undeniably an indefatigable student; he was urbane in his social deportment ; kind to his friends and charita- ble to his opponents ; liberal towards the views of others, and benev- olent to the \\ hole family of man. He Avas a Christian in his faith and hopes; and here he was humble-minded, as the sincere believer, the faithful hoper should ever be. Professor Follen says of him, that "whatever particular form of faith he may have preferred, he firmly believed in the essential truths of natural and revealed religion. He adopted Christianity as a divine system, cliiefly on the ground of its great internal evidence, its perfect adaptation lo human nature, and the .spirit of truth and divine ])liilanthropy wliicli gives life to all its pre- cepts. All morality, he thought, was ((iiiiiiiued in these two precej)ls, — ' Tliou sliall Idvc the Lord thy God, am! lli\ neighbor as tliyseli? All pray(!rs, he thought, were comprised in this one, — 'FatJur, thy trill be done.' " THE MONUMENT TO SPURZIIEIM. 43 Whilst in Boston, he tasked himself severely in public lectures be- fore schools and societies ; and the value of his remarks upon that important topic, "physical education," are gratefully admitted. His great intellectual oflorts, together with the effects of our climate, much impaired his health. He became sick with fever ; medical advice was unavailing; and he breathed his last on the 10th of November, 1832. The Boston Medical Association as a body, and a voluntary procession of citizens, escorted his remains from the old South Church, where the burial-service was performed, to the cemetery of Park-street Church, where they were deposited until the tomb at Mount Auburn could be prepared. The monument which the engraving delineates, was the result of a movement amongst the friends of the deceased, who ad- mired him as a man and a lecturer, irrespectively of his peculiar tenets ; but the expense was eventually defrayed by the liberality of the Hon. Wm. Sturgis of Boston. America's tribute to this native of the old world, in the language of one of his biographers, is thus " a grave and a monument." THE LOWELL MONUMENT. "And, as his body lies enshrined in ihe bosom of his mother earth, we can say, in the fulness of our hearts, Peace to his slumbers. lie needs no monument to perpetuate liis memory ; ' His monument shall be his name alone' " [Anonymous. TiiK imposing luoiiumontal structure, AvhicL the engraving accu- rately represents, is constructed of granite, and stands in Willow Avenue. The name of " Lowell" is carved, in raised letters, upon its front, and is never read by the wanderers from the city and its ad- jacent regions, without a feeling of pride, in the memories which it brings up of a generation of eminent men, — benefactors to New Eng- land, whether regarded as enterprising merchants, lawyers, or lovers of science and literature. Our neighboring town of I>o\vell, cele- brated for its manufactures, received its name in honor of the late Francis C. Lowell, Esq., of Boston, one of the first who introduced that magnificent enterprise, the mamifacture of cotton, inio the United States. The " Lowell Institute," that fostering foundation for the at- af>- THE LOWELL MONUMENT. 45 tainmoiit and (JiHusion of scientific, knowledge, bears the name of its nuinificeut founder, — the late John Lowell, Jr., (sou of Francis C. Lowell,) — and is an establishment which, in its conception and design, has no parallel, cither in our own country or in Europe. " The idea of a foundation of this kind," sa} s Edward Everett, " on which, un- connected with any place of education, provision is made, in the midst of a large commercial population, for annual courses of instruction by public lectures, to be delivered gratuitously to all who choose to attend them, as far as is practicable within our largest hall, is, I believe, origi- nal with Mr. Lowell." The monument to which we have thus alluded, was erected by the executors of the late John Lowell, Jr., to the memory of his wife, an amiable and accomplished woman, who died a few years after their marriage, and of his two daughters, his only children, who did not long survive their mother. The monument bears this simple inscrip- tion : — ERECTED BY ORDER OF JOHN LOWELL, Jr., IN MEMORY OF HIS WIFE AND CHILDREN, TESTIMOMAL OF THEIK VIRTUES, HIS AFFECTIONATE REMEMBRANCE. 46 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. ]\fr. John Lowell, Jr., the son of Francis C. Lowell, Esq., who is still freshly remembered amongst us, as one of those who have re- flected high honor on the character of the "American merchant," was also the grandson of the late Judge Lowell, whose father, the Rev, John Lowell, was the first minister at Newburyport. He " was among those," says Mr. Everett, " who enjoyed the public trust and confidence in the times which tried men's souls, and bore his part in the greatest work recorded in the annals of constitutional liberty — the American Revolution." Mr. John Lowell, Jr., was born on the 11 th of May, 1799, and was indebted both to his own country and to England, for the diversified education he received. Li early life, he had accompanied his fatlier in extensive travels ; and he seems to have explored thoroughly the most interesting sections Of the Old World. The renowned East had charms for his young ambition, and excited many enterprising plans for future research and discovery. After the occurrence, in 1830-31, of the afflictive domestic events to which we, have before referred, Mr. Lowell's love of foreign travel revived; and he quitted his native land in 1832, with the intention of spending some years abroad. He first visited Great Britain, France, Central and Southern Europe, and then crossed from Smyrna to Alex- andria. That section of the East, celebrated as the "land of the Pharaohs," the primitive cradle of the early arts, possessed peculiar charms for his inquiring mind : — Imt his travels in that country proved fatal to his health. Disease assailed him ; and an illness occasioned by exposure and fatigue on his tour liiroii^li tin- East, terminated his v;ilu;il)l(' life at Bombay, where a siin])le moiniiiiciit marks his rest- ing-place. Had III' lived, it was his inti'iilioii lo have himself erected THE LOWiaJi MONUMENT. 47 the inoniiment at Mount Auburn ; but, unlbrtunatel} , lie left no design for sueh a structure, and it thus became the duty of others, faithfully to carry out his \\ ishos. We have spoken of Mr. Lowell as t lie founder of the " Lourtl In- stitute ;" and it was in Egypt that he devised the establishment which bears his name, and Tjequeathed the munificent sum of $250,000 to carry his desires into execution. The object of this splendid bequest, was the " maintenance and support of public lectures, to be deUvered in Boston, upon philosophy, natural history, the arts and sciences, or any of them, as the trustee shall, from time to time, deem expedient for the promotion of the moral, and intellectual, and physical instruc- tion or education of the citizens of Boston." A codicil to this will gives directions for the furtherance of his design, as follows : — "As the most certain and the most important part of true philoso- phy, appears to me to be that which shows the connection between God's revelations, and the knowledge of good and evil implanted by him in our nature, I wish a course of lectures to be given on natural religion, showing its conformity to that of our Saviour." " For the more perfect demonstration of the truth of those moral and religious precepts, by which alone, as I believe, men can be secure of happiness in this world and that to come, I wish a course of lec- tures to be delivered on the historical and internal evidences in favor of Christianity. I wish all disputed points of faith and ceremony to be avoided ; and the attention of the lecturers to be directed to the moral doctrines of the gospel, — stating their opinion, if they will, but not engaging in controversy, even on the subject of the penalty of dis- obedience." "As the prosperity of my native land. New England, which is sterile 48 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. and unproductive, must depend hereafter, as it has heretofore de- pended, first, on the moral qualities, and, second, on the intelligence and information of its inhabitants, I am desirous of trying to con- tribute towards this second object also ; and I wish courses of lectures to be established on physics and chemistry, with their application to the arts ; also, on botany, zoology, geology, and mineralogy, connected with their particular utility to man." "After the establishment of these courses of lectures, should dispo- sable funds remain, or, in process of time, be accumulated, the trustee may appoint courses of lectures to be delivered on the literature and eloquence of our language, and even on those of foreign nations, if he see fit. He may also, from time to time, establish lectures on any sub- ject that, in his opinion, the wants and tastes of the age may de- mand." "As infidel opinions appear to me injurious to society, and ea.sily to insinuate themselves into a man's dissertations on any subject, how- ever remote from religion, no man ought to be appointed a lecturer, who is not willing to declare, and who does not previously declare, his behef in the divine revelation of the Old and New Testaments, leav- ing the interpretation thereof to his own conscience." The above extract from that part of Mr. Lowell's will a\ lilcli relates to tills jjromiiiciit bequest, at once develops his whole character as a Christian, a philanthropist, and a scholar, and reflects more honor upon liini tlinn whole volumes of biography. The first lecture of the Lo\\('ll Institute was delivered in the Boston Odcon, (formerly the Federal-street Theatre,) on the 31 st of Decem- ber, ] S3n. It was an introductory lecture, — being very properly a memoir of its founder, — and was delivered I)V the ITon. Edward Ev- THE LOWELL MONUMENT. 49 erett. From that time to the present, the will of the testator has been strictly carried out. Five courses of lectures have been delivered on Natural Religion ; four, on the Evidences of Christianity ; five, on Geology ; four, on Botany ; three, on Astronomy ; and three, on Chem- istry: one course has been given upon Electricity and Electro-mag- netism; one course, on Comparative Anatomy; one course, on the Mechanical Laws of Matter; one course, on American History; one course, on Ancient Egypt ; one course, on Optics ; one course, on Architecture ; one course, on the Military Art ; one course, on the Plan of Creation, as shown in the Animal Kingdom ; and one course, on the Life and Writings of Milton. Each course has consisted of twelve lectures ; and these have been given in the evening, whilst the majority have been repeated in the afternoon, for the better accommo- dation of the public, — tickets being issued for separate courses. The whole number of tickets issued up to the present time, has been 162,309 ; whilst the number of those who have applied for them has been 198,658. The whole number of lectures has been 370. And now, in view of these brief statistics, will it be presumptuous to ask, — Who can tell or foresee the consequences of these gratuitous lectures ? One fact, illustrated and proved in science, philosophy, re- ligion, or letters, may excite a curiosity and spirit of investigation, which shall arouse dormant intellect, and add another to the proud list of the world's benefactors. The spirit of investigation — that prying curiosity which spurs man on to energetic action, or involves him in deep and studious contemplation — has perhaps bestowed more benefits on mankind, than the most brilliant gifts of genius. How little did the Pharsalian rustic, when he detected the electric power of amber, think that the little spark which he produced from it, was, in every 7 50 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. respect but intensity, the same power wliich cleft the oak that over- shadowed him ; and he who first noted the phenomena of the load- stone, how little did he anticipate the consequences of the discovery ! Hundreds of philosophers had passed by, unheeded, the hints of two obscure men respecting the motion of the earth, — but the investigating spirit of Copernicus found in them the germs of his innnortahty. It is thus that we are indebted to patient research, for so much that conduces to knowledge and comfort. But Curiosity must be first ex- cited ; and where is that lever to be applied, that spirit roused, with so much hope of the future, as in the lecture-room of the Lowell In- stitute 1 — an establishment which can afl'ord amply to remuueratc the most profound of our scientific men, the most competent of our theo- logians and men of letters, — where so many minds, of such varietv, capacity, and proclivity, are brought together, "without money and without price," to learn truths in morals, the arts, science, and natural philosophy. Cariosity once excited, ^^ho shall declare the limit of its researches? In the language of that great projector, who pointed tlie wealth of a vast and once almost inaccessible region, iuto the bosom of the powerful commercial mart of the north, and who well knew the omnipotence of knowledge, — "It feels no danger, it spares no ex- pense, it omits no exertion. It scales the mountain — looks into the volcano — dives into the ocean — perforates the earth — wings its flight into the skies — enriches the globe — explores sea and land — contem- plates the distant — examines the minute — comprehends the great — as- cends to the sublime. No place is too remote for its grasp ; no heav- ens too exalted for its research." It was this noble curiositv wliicli held tiie torcli lliat lighted Newton through (he skies; and it is the same spirit that has unlocked the caskets wliich contained so nian\ THE LOWELL MONUMENT. 51 secrets in lucchauics — facilitating the progress of so many useful arts, and reducing to practical reality so many theories that would, less than a century ago, have been pronounced the dreams of dehrium, — the application of steam-power, and the practicability of the magnetic telegraph, being the latest examples. " Knowledge is power ;" and, although the paths which lead to it may be rough and troublesome, they lead us to pure fountains and healthful eminences. He whose munificence, in 1839, enabled the citizens of Boston to avail them- selves of a lecture-room, where they might not only gain knowledge, but become avaricious of more, may emphatically be called one of the world's benefactors. By his philanthropic will, as we have shown, he not only pointed out a way of gaining pure scientific knowledge, but he expressly declared, also, that some portion of the lecture season should be devoted to the dispensing of religious truths — those enno- bUng doctrines which bind man to man, and man to his Creator. He did not forget the paramount importance of moral excellence ; and he left a fortune to insure the labor of the good of after years, in giving the great principles of the Gospel fixedness in the heart of man, and a greater range to high moral feelings. In the eloquent language of Edward Everett, therefore, "let the foundation of Mr. Lowell stand on the principles prescribed by him ; let the fidelity with which it is now administered, continue to direct it ; and no language is emphatic enough to do full justice to its im- portance. It will be, from generation to generation; a perennial source of public good — a dispensation of sound science, of useful knowledge, of truth in its most important associations with the destiny of man." THE MONUMENT NOAH WORCESTER. " Our birth is but a starting-place ; Life is the running of the race, And death the goal : There all our steps at last are brought ; That path alone of all unsought, Is found of all." ^Translation from Manriquc. We love to wander through a cemetery. Every monument that we pass calls up a recollection ; the heart dilates and the mind expands, as reflection pursues her way, and whilst judgment suins up the value of a moral, well-directed 11 fo. It was nearing sunset when, in our meditations at Mount Auburn, we passed the grave of Worcester — the exemplary divine — the frioiid of humanity ! The hour itself mel- lowed our thoughts, as wc trod upon the greensward which covered the venerable dead ; and the (jiiiet of all things around us seemed pe- culiarly a])propriatc to our liapj)v recollections of ibis "friend of peace." Above us, the bcimtiriil clouds, just tinged witli ibc glow of WORCESTER'S MONUMENT. 53 sunset, appeared to be as soft aud lovely as the memories of those who had departed Hfe in serenity and hope ; and, in the language of an eloquent writer, "the gorgeous pile of clouds towards which they were moving, seemed to teach us that sorrow for the loss of those we loved, should be swallowed up in the bright hope of a reunion ; the changing clouds, now purple and now crimson, appeared as if mocking at the works of mortal hands ; but the calm serenity of the east, from which all clouds had passed away, seemed as if preparing for a brighter and a purer dawn. As all those vapors crowding to the west, increased the glory of the sunset hour, so trials sustained, and tempta- tions overcome, add lustre to the departure of the pious, — even the shadows deepening around, speak of peace and calm, and please rather than chill the sensibilities." Noah Worcester had his trials; but he passed through them as " gold through the refiner's fire." Neither poverty nor illness checked his efforts for self-improvement, or the elevation of his kind ; his de- votion to the good of humanity and the cause of freedom was, like that of the great Channing, both high aud holy ; aud he died, as he had lived, the "friend of peace," receiving the reverence and praises of mankiud, and the gratitude of the ministry amongst whom he was a brother and a friend. " Beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth glad tidings — that publisheth peace." With a full conviction of the purity and truth of the quotation, he sought to do his part in proclaiming the propriety of that peace which is the oppo- site of war ; and beautiful were his footsteps, as he walked in his self- appointed path, humbly showing forth the philosophy of his simple doctrines. And who would not muse near such a monument ? The changes 54 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. and chances of human life are strongly and curiously woven together in the career of Noah Worcester ; and we cannot go over his biogra- phy, without seeing that the web of life is indeed a mingled tissue. At the breaking out of the Revolutionary war, and when a lad of about seventeen, he joined the army as a fifer. Afterwards, (in 1777,) he became fife-major, maintaining this latter office for two months; and then, disgusted with warlike service, he quitted the camp to teach a village school — very inadequately prepared, however, for such a duty. At this time, he was deficient in the art of ^^■ritiug, and had never seen a dictionary. Both in writing and spelling, he was com- pelled to educate himself, and he did this effectually ; although, like so many before and since his time, he had fallen in love, and had deter- mined on matrimony. At the age of twenty-one, he had married an interesting and capable girl, and had "settled himself doAvn," as he thought, as a small farmer in Plymouth, N. H. Thus far, his life hardly promised any great results ; and his education certainly forbade any expectations of the works which followed. He had a pious mind, however, and a firm religious belief, — that which Sir Humphrey Davy has called the "greatest of earthly blessings." It was this which made his life " a discipHne of goodness ; created new hopes when all other hopes vanished ; and called up beauty and divinity from corruption and decay." in 1782, he was a resident of the town of Thornton, where, to support his increasing family, he worked at the lapstone, and cogitated upon those doctrines of faith, which afterwards led him to write down liis iboiights — to print and publish. In 1786, he had been examined for I lie ministry; and was speedily ordained over a church in Thorn- ton, having previously served in many public trusts, — been schoolmas- WORCESTER'S MONUMENT. 55 ter, selectman, town-clerk, justice of the peace, and representative to the general court. For twenty-three years he continued rector of this church, studying to improve himself all the while in useful knowl- edge, and giving deep attention to the examination of theological points. He ahv'ays read and studied with his pen in hand ; and was enabled in this way to preserve many valuable original observations and deductions, and to stamp in his memory whatever was worth being preserved in its archives. He was the first missionary of New Hampshire — in himself a beloved auxiliary of the gospel cause, and a faithful teacher throughout all the northern towns of that state. In 1809, we find him rector of a church in Salisbury, N. H. — a town now famed as the birthplace of Daniel Webster, and where Mr. Wor- cester expounded his own views of Christianity as fearlessly and nobly, as that great statesman has defended the Constitution of his country at Washington. And now he began to be known to the world, and to take his place in theological history. Being brought up a Calvinist, he changed his views from conviction of error ; he wrote a publication showing his reasons of disbelief in the doctrine of the Trinity ; and afterwards published his " Letters to Trinitarians," " a work," says the lamented Channing, "breathing the very spirit of the Saviour, and intended to teach, that diversities of opinions on subjects the most mysterious and perplexing, ought not to sever friends, to dis- solve the Christian tie, or to divide the church." From this moment, the intellectual life of this good man assumes an intense interest ; he was developing more and more the action of a devout and inquisitive mind, and amiably and manfully striving to avoid that dangerous quicksand — the arrogance of sectarianism. 56 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. Dr. Ware says of him, that "with the profound consciousness of truth, he came out from his anxiety, his studies, his controversies, and his sorrows, with a liberality as wide as Christendom, and a modesty as gentle as his love of truth was strong." But now he was to assume other duties ; and, at the instigation of his friends, the late Drs. Chan- ning, Tuckerman, and Thacher, and the present Dr. Lowell, he re- moved to Brighton, Mass., in 1813, and commenced editing a now religious periodical, entitled " The Christian Disciple." He gathered around him here, a delightful circle of friends, and realized in them the true enjoyment of high culture and elevated purpose. This work was the advocate of Christian liberty and charity, and has now be- come merged in that well-sustained Unitarian periodical, the " Chris- tian Examiner." His thoughts became more and more devoted to the cause of freedom ; and he sought to analyze the subject of War, whether as opposed to, or agreeing with, the doctrines of the Scrip- tures. The following passage explains his views upon this great theme, as interesting to us noiv, as it could possibly have been at the time of writing : " T can say with the greatest truth, that I am unacquainted with any errors which have been adopted by any sect of Christians, which ap- pear to me more evidential of a depraved heart, than those which sanction war, and dispose men to glory in slaughtering one another. If a man, apparfutly of good character, avows a belief that human infants are not by nature totally sinful, there are a multitude of churches who would refuse to admit him to their fellowship. Yet another man, who believes in ibc doctrine of total sinfulness l)y na- tur,e, may perhaps bo acbniUcd to their connnnnion, Avith his hands recking with the bluud of juany brethren, whom he has wantonly WORCESTER'S MONUMENT. 57 slain in the games of war, and this, too, while he justifies those fash- ionable murders !" Following out these principles, he " gave vent to his whole soul," says Dr. Ware, " in that remarkable tract, A Soleinn RevieiD of the Custom of War, — one of the most successful and efficient pamphlets of any period." The publication of this production was followed by the formation of the Massachusetts Peace Society, and by the commencement of a quarterly issue, called " The Friend of Peace." This he continued for ten years, being almost its only contributor, — but so managing to vary the illustrations of his subjects, as to make the articles appear as if written by diflcreut individuals — a tact as un- common as admirable, and most abundantly proving both the ardent zeal which he brought to the subject, and the great versatility of his powers of thought. He was in heart and deed a philanthropist. The subject oi slavery occupied his mind, in connection with other topics immediately con- cerning the good of humanity ; but his last days were devoted espe- cially to rehgious investigations, and lie prepared two theological works. The "Atonement" was the subject of one, and " Human De- pravity" of the other. He wrote diffusely, but yet with clearness; and in the resources of his thoughtful mind, he found the material for happy occupation. Dr. Chanuing, in his remarks upon the life and character of Dr. Worcester, has said : " I am always happy to express my obligations to the benefactors of my mind ; and I owe it to Dr. Worcester to say, that my acquaintance with him gave me clearer comprehension of the spirit of Christ, and of the dignity of a man." Physical suffering exhausted this venerable man towards the close of life ; l)ut it had the effect to call forth those bright traits of his 58 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. character, which are best expressed by the words submission and for- bearance. "I recollect," says Dr. Channing, "uo discord in his beau- tiful life. All my impressions of him are harmonious. Peace beamed from his venerable countenance." Noah Worcester lived and died the friend of Humanity ; and it has been through the admiration and gratitude of his friends, that the monument to his memory has been erected at Mount Auburn. This simple tribute is of white marble, and stands on the corner of Laurel lud Waluut Avenues. The inscription is as follows: On one side : NOAH WORCESTER, D. D. ERECTED BY HIS FRIENDS, IN C O M IVI I", M O R A T I O N OF Z K A I. O U .S LABORS THE CAUSE OF PEACE; THE MEKKNLSS, BENIGNITY, AND CONSISTENCY HIS CHARACTER CHRISTIAN PHIL.^NTHROI'IST AND DIVINE. 'SrEAKINf! TirK TlUJTII IN [.OVK.' WORCESTER'S MONUMENT. 59 Ou the Other side ; NOAH WORCESTER: Born at IIoi.lis, New IIampshibk, November 25, 1758: Died at Brighton, Massachusetts, October 31, 1837. Aged 79 Years. " Blessed are the peace-makers, for tliey shall be called the children of God." CENTRAL SQUARE. " Mighty shades, Waving their gorgeous tracery o'er the licad, With the light melting through their high arcades, As through a pillar'd cloister's." [Mrs. Hemans. The ground represented in the engraving, and denominated "Cen- tral Square," was originally reserved as a situation for some future public monument. It is an exeeilent position for such design. Va- rious shady avenues open from this square ; and its immediate neigh- borhood seems to have been chosen by many individuals, as the site for their last resting-place. At present, the most conspicuous monu- ment near tlie s((uar(\ is that erected to the memory of Miss Hannah Adams, who was not oiiU ;i ril\ lliickcncil, .she felt CENTRAL SQUARE 63 necessitated, in early years, to resort to various humble ways to obta-in the means of subsistence. During the Revolutionary war, making lace, spinning, weaving, braiding straw, keeping school, were all tried in aid of her support ; and at the close of the war, when most of these resources, owing to contingent circumstances, became unavailing, she thought of her notes on religion and literature, (made in the interim of other avocations,) and she determined to enlarge them into books, — though she has been heard to say, that weaving lace with bobbins, was more profitable during the war, than writing books was after- wards. "It was desperation" to use her own language, "and not vanity, that induced me to publish." She was indebted to the very fact of her father's misfortunes, for that love of books which, aided by an inquiring mind, has served to make her, at this day, so much the worthy object of eulogy and re- membrance. Her father at one time embarked in the business of a country trader; his store was an "omnium gatherum" of English and West India goods, drugs, and books. Fond of reading himself, he naturally directed the minds of his children to those unfailing sources of pleasure, profit, and recreation, which good books afford ; he amassed quite a library for those times, and the volumes which were left upon his hands, after his failure in business, became the best boon which W'as afforded to his daughter. She often expressed her regret that she had read too much light literature ; though it may be doubt- ed, we think, whether a mind naturally of so sober and practical a character as was that of Miss Adams, was not benefited by the fancy reading in which she at one time indulged. It may have brightened her imagination, aided by her natural good sense, and it may have im- parted to a sombre cast of thought, something that may have been 64 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. wanted of spirit and beauty. Her readings of the poets, certainly, were ever a source of happiness to her ; and when she enjoyed nature, it was much in the same spirit with Thomson and Cowper. " She culled the flowers, before she examined the forest-trees of literature." In the large and valuable libraries of her zealous young friend, the lamented Buckminster, and of her venerable admirer, President Adams of Quincy, she gathered much knowledge, which, to her appreciating intellect, we doubt not, was " more precious than rubies." She knew, as Milton has expressed it, that " books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a progeny of life in them, to be as active as the soul wds, whose progeny they are — that they preserved, as in a vial, the purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred them." She /c// that "a good book is the precious life-blood of a master- spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a lii'e beyond life." She herself wrote nothing that, " dying, she would wish to blot ;" and although her works are not of great profundity, they were essentially useful at the time she wrote ; and even in these days, are worthy of reference. In about 1804-5, she removed to Boston, when, at the instance of some female friends, aided by several highly respectable gentlemen, a life annuity was obtained for her, with which, and frequent acceptable presents from beiievoliMir jxtsous who appreciated her talents, and to whom she was nmch endeared for licr unpretending deportment, gen- tleness, and modesty, she was en;il)lc(l to pass tlie last days of her life in ease and comfort. Miss Adams was a competent scholar in (Iroi^k and Latin, in which branches of n Icnrncd education slir lilted si'xeral young men tor col- le^fi althou;:li, when she ronnnenced tiie ]iiirsnit of the dead Ian- CENTRAL SQUARE. 65 guagcs, the world around Ikt w as inclined to laugh at her aspirations. She said herself, that she felt " as if she were drawing upon herself tlu" ridicule of society !" Happily for us, those days are past. Thougli scarce a century has elapsed since the hirth of Miss Adams, the neces- sity for cultivated female teachers is everywhere acknowledged ; nay, female education of a liigh order cannot be dispensed with; the cul- ture of the mind is a positive demand. Every mother ought to be an intellectual and spiritual woman, that she may be able to encourage the development of the highest capacities of her children, and incite them to wisdom and virtue. Revered as a friend, honored for her integrity, admired for her va- ried accpiisitions, respected for her piety, and cherished for the union of all these attributes of a pure and elevated character, Miss Adams passed to her final rest, receiving kindly sympathy and fostering care. She breathed her last in a pleasant house in Brookline, whither she had been removed, that she might enjoy the beauties of rural scenery, which she had ever loved, and have the advantage of sun and pros- pect. She had fully experienced, in her long life, the evanescent nature of all earthly enjoyments ; and she "fell asleep," finally, real- izing that her soul's helper was the Omnipotent, and her best defence, the Rock of Ages. Her friends raised, ])y subscription, the monument to her memory, which bears the following inscription : 66 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. TO HANNAH ADAMS, HISTORIAN OF THE JEWS, AND REVIEWER OF THE CHRISTIAN SECTS, EJfs iHonunuiit is cvcctcU, BV HER FEMALE FRIENDS. FIRST TENANT or MT. AUBURN: she died december 15, 1831, Aged 76. HARVARD HILL, ' His eyes diffused a venerable grace, And charity itself was in his face : Notliinp reserved or sullen was to see, But sweet rejrards and pleasinjr sanctity ; Mild was his accent, and his action free. With eloquence innate his tongue was arm'd ; Though harsh the precept, yet the preacher charm'd. For, letting down the golden chain from high, lie drew his audience upward to the sky. He bore his great commission in his look, But sweetly temper'd awe, and soften'd all he spoke." Amidst our meditative wanderings over Mount Auburn, we find that the same "consecrated mould" contains not only some of the greatest of our country's lawgivers, but some of the most eloquent of her divines, — men whose industry and genius have elevated them to conspicuous pubhc stations. We have pondered, in the lowly vale, over the tomb of Story — and now we pass to the gentle eminence upon which is erected the monument to the memory of Kirkland — the urbane gentleman — the brilliant scholar — the gifted preacher — the profound moralist, — the late President of Harvard College. The spot where rest the remains of President Kirkland, has been appropriately designated as '' Harvard Hill ;" being a purchase by the 68 " MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. corporation of the University, for the purpose of a buryiug-place for the officers of the institution, and some of its distinguished students. We stand upon Harvard Hill, as it were, in the midst of a group of academics, and, as the eye rests upon the marble which forms the enduring monument to Kirkland, we feel that there rests a father amongst his children. Around and about it are obelisks to the mem- ory of various instructors and students in the college, and near by, is the chaste erection in memory of John Hooker Ashmun, late Royall Professor of Law in the University. Here are buried, side by side, hoary age, and promising youth, and manhood in its full maturity of intellectual strength, — he whom the great Father of our destinies per- mitted to a full performance of a good work on earth, and they, his student-children, cut off amidst their brightest aspirations — their san- guine hopes for an honorable career. But "such is life," and such are the decrees of inscrutable destiny ; and we may well recognise, in this connection, the expressive truth, that there are those, "of whom neither ourselves nor the world are worthy." Tilt' Kirkland monument on Harvard Hill, is an ornate sarcoph- agus, having on its top an outspread scroll, uj)on which rests a book — the latter being a lilting indication of tlic j)ursnits of the lamented dead interred beneath it, whether as respects his profession of the ministry, or his taste for literature. On one side of tlic monument are these words: JOANNES THORNTON KIRKLAND, V. D. M., S. T. I). DeCESSIT Al'KII.la DIE \XV1., Anno Domini MDCCCXL. iJTATIS s^m Lxr.x. HARVARD HILL. 69 On the opposite side is tiiis inscription : JOANNI THORNTON KIRKLAND : VIllu UONORATO DILECTO, AUCTORITATK, SUAVITATE; IMGENII ACUMINE, SERMONIS TENUSTATE, ET ANIMI QUADAM ALTITUDINE, PRiESTANTI. academiie hakvardianje Per annos XVH faustos Pr^sidi: mqvo vigilanti, benigno, pio. alumni grate memores, hoc monumentlm ponendum, cl'raverunt. "Early engaged in the instruction of youth in the seminary of which he was afterwards the honored head ; sustaining a faithful and successful ministry of almost seventeen years, in the New South Church ; and thence presiding, for a still longer period, over the Uni- versity, we must count it," says one of his eulogists,* " amongst tlie suhjccts of our gratitude, that his usefulness was preserved to us so long. Nearly forty years of public .service, must be regarded as no ordinary allotment of favor to the individual intrusted with them, or to the community who share in the benefit." John Thornton Kirkland was born in the state of New York, at • Tlie Rev. Dr. Parkman. 70 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. I/ittle I-^alls. on the Mohawk river, on the 17th of August, 1770. He ^vas the son of the Rev. Samuel Kirkland, who devoted hiniseH", with great energy and courage, to the work of a missionary to the Indians. His mother was an exemplary woman of good gifts intellectually, and one who thought it no hardship to repair, with her devoted htisband, immediately upon her union, to an unfinished log-hut in the heart of an Indian village. She knew the perils to which they were liable ; hut she encouraged a great hope for the success of her husband's lal)ors, — and she was partly rewarded for her wife-like courage by receiving, in November, 1772, a considerate donation of fifty pounds sterling, from the society in Scotland for promoting Christian knowl- edge, to purchase a comfortable residence. " It is a singular and interesting fact," says Dr. Young, in his sermon on the death of Dr. Kirkland, " as well as a beautiful illustration of the spirit of American society, and of the practical working of our free institutions, that the son of a poor missionary on the outskirts of civilization, l)oru in a log-cabin, nurtured in infancy among the sav- ages, and bred in childhood in a frontier village, with no advantages of fortune, and Utile aid from frit^ids, rose, by the force of talent and merit alone, to tiu' head of the first literary institution in our land. Such a fact as this is full of encouragement to the high-spirited and ambitious young men of our country. It shows them that the patli of literary as well as j)olitical distinction is open to all, and that talent, effort, and moral worth are sure to be valued aiul rewarded." When the trouijies of (Ik- war arose, it was not decnu d safe for Mrs. Kirkland lo remain amongst the Indians, especially as it uas not known which side they would take in the conflict. The money troni Scotland |)ur(liase(l, tlnMcfore, a sujall fnnn in Sloclvhridge, Mass., HARVARD HILL. 71 \vhitlier this excellent wife and mother repaired, and where her son John Thornton remained till he was sent to Andover, having pre- viously received from her the rudiments of his education. lie re- mained here two years, when, with the patronage of a liberal friend, aided by his own exertions in keeping a school, he was admitted into Harvard University in 1786. In his Junior year, the famous Shay's Rebellion broke out; and, possessing a spirit of patriotism, and perhaps some love of adventure, he availed himself of a winter vacation to join the little band under Gen. Lincoln, formed for the purpose of quelling the insurrection. He performed his part as a soldier manfully ; and when the object of the struggle was honorably accomplished, he once more returned to the peaceful groves of Academus, and to the renewal of those studies which his principles of true patriotism had interrupted. Upon leaving the University, he became, for a brief period, an as- sistant in the Andover Academy. He was elected, subsequently, Tutor of Metaphysics in Harvard College ; and whilst engaged in this capa- city, he embraced Divinity as his chosen profession, and zealously- pursued his theological studies, until he was invited to become the pastor of the New South Church, upon the resignation of the Rev. Oliver Everett. On the 5th of February, 1794, he received ordina- tion, and commenced a ministry which beautifully exemplified a knowledge of human nature and of Christian divinity, — a ministry which all who remember it, acknowledge as having exercised an im- portant influence upon the minds not only of his own people, but upon those of a large portion of the community. "From 1794 to 1810 — a pregnant period in our history — he exercised," says Dr. Young, " a moral control which can hardly be conceived of by those who did not 72 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. live at that period, and who are not acquainted with the feverish and agitated state of the public mind that then existed, growing out of the peculiar state of the times. The minds of men needed to be instructed and tranquillized, and to be confirmed in the great fundamental prin- ciples of religion and morals. Dr. Kirkland addressed himself to this work with singular discretion and judgment, and by his words of truth and soberness, in the pulpit and out of it, rendered a service to this community, which can now be hardly understood or estimated, but which ought never to be forgotten." In ethics, Ur. Kirkland particularly excelled ; he had acquired a knowledge of the human heart which well prepared him for the work of a rigid moralist ; he made no parade of this intuitive knowledge of humanity — but it appeared continually in his life and in his writings ; he would enforce a great truth with a power of rhetoric at once con- vincing and brilliant, and he would deal with facts with a logic so consummate, as absolutely to conceal the logician in the speaker of well-pointed truths. Spontaneity was a great element in his thiiiking and speaking. He seemed ever to express himself impromptu. " His conversation," says a reverend brother, " was a succession of aphor- isms, maxims, general remarks: his preaching was of the same char- acter with his conversation." It is related of Dr. Kirkland, tliat it was not uiicommon with him to take into tin* ])ulpit liaU a dozen ser- mons or more, am! whilst turning rapidly o\('r their pages, to construct from the whole a new sermon as he went along, — doing this exdMiipo- rancously, but with an impressive; power, po.ssessed by few if anv in the sami; profrssion. Some |)ersoiis have attributed ibis h;il)il to indo- lence, and to procrastination in ])reparini;; a rcfiii!;ir sciiiioii on the week (lays. Nom- foiitid fauh, liow i\ rr, \\ illi the instruction ii'iidcred HARVARD HI LI.. 73 in this remarkable manner; on the contrary, it has been said of liim, that he " put more thought into one sermon, than otiier clergymen did into five." Urbanity was a prominent characteristic of the d(^portment of Dr. Kirkland, and to this may chiefly be attributed the power which he had of gaining the love of all who knew him ; his kindness of heart was as an inner sun, wliirli irradiated a countenance expressive of all benignant emotions: he looked to be what he was emphatically — a good man and a Christian. "Both as a preacher and pastor," says Dr. Young, " by his whole spirit and bearing, he made religion lovely and attractive, particularlv to the intelligejit, the refined, and the young. He stripped it of its stiff" and formal costume, its gloomy and forbidding look, and its austere and repellent manners. He taught men by his conversation and deportment, quite as much as by his preachiug — confirming and illustrathig the beautiful remark of Hooker, that ' the life of a pious clergyman is visible rhetoric' " Dr. Kirkland was chosen President of Harvard College on the death of its esteemed head. Dr. Webber. He was elected by the cor- poration of the University, in August, 1810 ; the election was con- firmed by the board of overseers during the same month, — but, owing to his own modest distrust of his capacity for such a position, his answer of acceptance was delayed until the following October. He was inducted into office on the 14th of the ensuing November " The presidency of Dr. Kirkland," says one of his most careful eulogists, "was the Augustan age of Harvard College." This certainly is high encomium ; but to prove its justice, we may be permitted to quote the remarks of his immediate successor in office, the venerable 74 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. ex-president Josiali Q.uincy, who, in his copious '• History of Harvard University," says that " the early period of the administration of Presi- dent Kirkland was pre-eminently distinguished for bold, original, and successful endeavors to elevate the standard of education in the Uni- versity, and to extend the means of instruction, and multiply accom- modations in every department. Holworthy Hall, University Hall, Divinity Hall, and the Medical College, in Boston, were erected. Liberal expenditures were incurred for furnishing University Hall, and for repairs and alterations in the other departments. The library, the chemical, philosophical, and anatomical apparatus of the University, and the mineralogical cabinet, were enlarged, and rooms for the lec- tures of the medical professors were fitted up in Holden Chapel. The grounds surrounding the college edifices, were planted with ornamen- tal trees and shrubberies ; the salaries of the president and professors were satisfactorily raised ; and as professorships became vacant, they were filled with young men of talent and promise. * * * The external indications of prosperity and success were general, manifest, and applauded. "The extraordinarv enlargement of the means, and advancement of the interests of learning in the University during this period, are to be attributed to the fortunate influx of the liberal patronage of individuals and the legislature ; to the spirit of an age of improvement; but most of all. Id ibc eminent men who llieu composed the corporation, and lirought into it a woiglil of talent, personal character, and external iiifliK'ncc, coiDliinid willi an acli\(' /.cal lor the advancement of the institution, previously unparalleled — and w ho, placing an almost nnlim- iti'd confidence in its president, vested him willi unprecedented powers in I lie manageniiMit of its affairs, ^\lli(■ll he exercised in a n)anner HARVARD HILL. 75 liberal and trustful of public support. This confidence was not only known and avowed, but is distinctly apparent on the records of the college, and had, uncpiestionably, a material influence on the measures and results of that administration." President Ciuincy very justly alludes, in the foregoing, to " the emi- nent men" who composed the corporation of the college at the time of which we are writing ; and it may be well, in this connection, to refresh the mind of the reader, by enumerating the names, amongst the laity, of the Hon. John Davis, Oliver Wendell, Thcophilus Par- sons, John Lowell, John Phillips, Christopher Gore, Wm. Prescott, Harrison Gray Oti.s, Charles Jackson, Joseph Story, Nathaniel Bow- ditch, and Francis C. Gray, — amongst the clergy, of the Rev. John Eliot, William Ellcry Channiug, Samuel C. Thacher, John Lathrop, Charles Lowell, and Eliphalet Porter. Not less distinguished was the college at this time, for its bright array of professors and tutors, — amongst whom we may mention the names of Frisbie, Farrar, Norton, Hedge, Everett, Ticknor, Popkin, Bigelow, Sparks, Bancroft, Cogswell, and Follen. Two of these indi- viduals have received the honor of being sent ambassador to the court of St. James ; and one of the two is now the third successor to Dr. Kirkland in the presidency of Harvard University. In writing of the public career of President Kirkland, and of his many estimable traits of character, as a man and a Christian, the gen- erosity of his disposition should not be passed over. He was the friend of temperance and moral reform — a man of an expansive be- nevolence of thought, and of a generous charity. " Many a young man," says Dr. Young, "was prevented from leaving college with his education unfinished, by the timely and generous charitv which he 76 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. imparted. Whilst Dr. Kirklaud had a dollar iii his pocket, it was ever at the coniinand of the poor Camhridgc scholar." Dr. Kirklaud retained his position at the head of the college for a period of eighteen years, when, owing to his declining health, he sent in his resignation of the high duties of the presidency, on the 28th of March, 1828. With evident regret the corporation accepted his resig- nation ; and the students manifested their affectionate and respectful feelings towards him, by a costly present of silver plate. He em- barked for Europe in 1829, and was three years absent, travelling over that continent, and parts of Asia and Africa. He returned home in 1832 ; but his strength was broken l)y paralysis, and he passed away from earth in the spring of 1840 — having ever been one to whom might well be applied the words of the prophet Daniel : " light, and understanding, and wisdom, and knowledge, and an excellent spirit, were found in him." THE APPLETON MONUMENT. " A lovely temple 1 such as slione Upon thy classic mounts, fair Greece ! For which thy kings exchanged their throne, War's stirring field, for the grave's peace." [McLellan. A Grecian temple in ininiatuie of fine Italian marble, most cor- rectly represented in the engraving, marks the burial-place belonging to Samuel Appleton, Esq., of Boston. It is surmounted by funereal lamps, and has appropriate devices on its facade — the whole exquisite- ly wrought by the Italian artists. This monument is in Woodbine Path, and has been erected by a gentleman conspicuous for his wealth, hospitality, and benevolence. Mr. Samuel Appleton is the oldest of a family in Boston, whose position, influence, and liberality have ren- dered them eminently distinguished in Massachusetts. The monument which he has erected is one of the most costly in Mount Auburn, and is usually inquired for by strangers visiting the place. Its situation in the midst of a dense grove of evergreens, is highly picturesque. THE MONUMENT JOHN HOOKER ASHMUN. "And there are some names even in Sarilis, wliich have not defiled their garments. And they shall walk with me in white, for they are worthy." [New TeslamcnI. We have already mcntionod the name of a distinguished scholar — one of the professors formerly connected witli the University — whose remains repose near the sculptured sarcophagus of President Kirkland. How well tlic naiiH! of John Hooker Ashmun has heen honored — how truly liis .scholarshi]) mid cliaracter of mind have heen appreciated and valued, will appear from the remarkahlc inscription on his mouu- nicnt — ;i hkkIi'I as it is of condensation, — containing almost a hiogra- pliy ill an cpilnph. Charles Ciiauiicy Emerson is the author of tin- following insrri|)li()ii, iiroiiounced, hy common consent, one of the best in jVlouiit Auburn : — HARVARD HILL. 79 5B}cvc Ifcs tijc Hois of JOHN HOOKER A81IMUN, ROYALL PROFESSOR OF LAW IN HARVARD UNIVERSITY : Who was bokn July 3, 1800, And died April 1, 1833. In him llie Science of Law appeared native and intuitive : He went behind Precedents to Principles ; and Books were his helpers, never his masters : There was the beauty of Accuracy in his Understanding, And the beauty of Uprightness in his Character. Through the slow progress of the Disease which consumed his Life, He kept unimpaired his Kindness of Temper, and Superiority of Intellect; lie did more, sick, than others, in health ; lie was fit to Teach, at an age when common men are beginning to Learn ; And his few years bore the fruit of long life. A lover of Truth, an obeyer of Duty, a sincere Friend, and a wise Instructor, HIS PUPILS RAISE THIS STONE TO HIS MEMORY. The fatlier of Professor Ashinun — Eli P. Aslimun, Esq., of North- ampton — was a man of distinguished talents as a lawyer and states- man, and the intellectual gifts of his children appear to have been their natural heritage. .Tolm Hooker Ashmun was not thirty years of age when lie received the appointment to the Royall Professorship, as the successor of Chief Justice Parker ; and though he was young in 80 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. years, the uomiuatiou was universally hailed with applause ; uo en- vious voice arose to dispute his claims to such distinction ; the wise rejoiced in tlie appointment, and the students exulted in the choice of so competent an instructor. President duincy, in his "History of Harvard College," thus alludes to this appointment : — " Never were honors more worthily bestowed, or the duties of a professor's chair more taithfuUy fulfdled. His learning was deep, various, and accurate, and his method of instruction searching and exact. Few men have impressed upon the memories of their friends, a livelier sense of ex- cellence and unsullied virtue. Fewer have left behind them a charac- ter so significant in its outlines, and so well fitted to sustain an enduring fame." Professor Aslmiun was not destined, however, to live to heighten his fame. In less than four years from his acceptance of the professorship, his career as a dispenser of legal instruction was terminated by death. He quietly met his euthanasia, on the morning of April 1st, 1833, just as the bright glow of the early day streamed into liis chamber, a fitting type of his own clear intellect, the diffusive light of wliich, hke that of the risen sun illuminating the lionu> of genius, had enlightened so many minds in llie noble science of juris- piudcuce. In a discourse pronounced by the late .ludge t^tor)', before the fel- lows and faiiiltv of Harvard University, on ilu' death of Professor Ashmun, April 5th, 1833, it is gratifying to note with what a simple eloquence the gifted speaker pronounced his eulogy upon the character of tlie (Icpnrtrd. "Such as be was," he says, "we can bear liim in our hearts, and mi our lips, uilli a manly praise. We can hold him up as a fit example for \oiulilul emidation and ambition; not da/.zling, but elcvatrd ; not stately, l)iil solid; nol oslciiiiilioiis, Imi pun'." Al- HARVARD HILL. . 81 luding to Mr. Ashmun's nomination to the Royall Professorship, Judge Story says : — " It was a spontaneous movement of the corporation itself, acting on its own responsibiHty, upon a deliberate review of his qualifications, and after the most searching inquiry into the solidity of his reputation." This tribute to his talents and ability is of the high- est kind ; and it remains but to add, that he had early gained his fame ill the practice of legal science, by his brilliant success at the bar whilst a resident of Northampton, and by his association with Judge Howe in a law school in that flourishing town. We cannot conclude this notice of one of the distinguished dead whose remains are interred beneath the shady eminence of Harvard Hill — that spot of thronging interests — without recalling, as a model for the youth of our community, the example of the student-life of the lamented Ashmun. Without any of the extrinsic graces of person or of oratory ; without strength of voice ; and without the health which gives so much success to professional labor, he possessed an earnest- ness and truth of manner, which made his hearers always regard liiiii with the most profound attention. Again to quote the words of his distinguished eulogist, now, alas ! called to meet his friend and young companion in a better world, " he convinced where others sought but to persuade ; he bore along the court and the jury by the force of his argument ; he grappled with their minds, and bound them down with those strong ligaments of the law, which may not be broken, and cannot be loosened. Tn short, he often obtained a triumph, where mere eloquence must have failed. His conscientious earnestness com- manded confidence, and his powerful expostulations secured the passes to victory. Certain it is, that no man of his years was ever listened to with more undivided attention bv tlic court and bar, or received 82 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. from them more unsolicited approbation. It", to the circumstances al- ready alluded to, we add the fact of his deafness, his professional suc- cess seems truly remarkable. It is as proud an example of genius subduing to its own purposes, every obstacle opposed to its career, and working out its own lofty destiny, as could well be presented to the notice of ingenuous youth. It is as fine a demonstration as we could desire, of that great moral truth, that man is far less irhat nature has originally made him, than what he chooses to make himself!' With this review of Professor Ashmun's l)ri('f career on earth, we tliink we have fully illustrated the truth of the remarkable epitaph on his monument — an elegant tribute, as the latter is, from one gil'ird mind, to the superior intelligence and manly character of another. THE DEAD HARVARD HILL, " Liffi hath its flowersj^and what are they 7 The buds of eiirlv lovp and truth, Whicli spring and wither in a day ; The gems of wann, confiding youth; Alas ! those buds decay and die, Ere ripcn'd and matured in bloom; E'en in an iiour heliojd tliem lie Upon tlie still and lonely tomb." [Brooeb. " Yes, here they lie ; the student-youth, — The early honor'd dead ; Gone now with trust and holy truth. To meet in Christ, their Head." Clustering around the graves of Kirkland and Ashmun, to the right and left of Harvard Hill, are monuments to many of the students in the University, and to some of their instructors and tutors. With each name there is a linked history of high hopes and natural aspira- tions — hut they lived, died, and have been lamented. This is the lot of all with whom virtue and uprightness are the guides of earthly action, and " the proudest can boast of little more." They have a name and a tomb amongst those whom they would have been glad to 34 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. emulate, and they have passed away in the very summer of their l)eautv, teaching us, by the "seemingly untoward circumstances of their departure from this life, that they and we shall live forever." Amongst the names recorded on these various monuments, we find those of Charles S. Wheeler and Samuel T. Hildreth, both instruc- tors in the University; of Wm. H. Cowan, of the Law School; of Frederic A. Hoffman, of Baltimore ; of John A. Terry, Ephraim C. Roby, Charles Ridgely Greenwood, Charles Sedgwick, of Lenox, Wm. Cranch Bond, John A. Emery, and Edward C. Mussey. Neat marble obelisks adorn these graves, erected, in many cases, by the classmates of the deceased, and bearing suitable inscriptions. Few can wander around the spot where repose these young "buds of promise," so quickly blasted, without a crow d of feelings, suggested by their early departure from a world, the bitterness of which they had never known, and any conflict with which they had never been called to meet. To say that we mourn their loss, would be improper; for, in the expressive words of an English poet, — " 'Mid tliorus and snares our way we take, And yet we niuuni tiio blcet !" There is a better country, " even an heavenly," and there, wc trust, the beatified spirits of the loved and early lost are conuningling with "the just made perfect." Therefore, remembering the words of Sol- oiiKiii, lliMt WC "iii;iv praise the dead more than the living," we may well apply, in this connection, ilic remaining lines of the stanza: " For llioso will) Ihruiig tlio eternul throne, Lost are the team we shed ; TItry are the hving, they alone, Wliom thus we call the ukad." THE MONUMENT TO CHANNING. '* Some there are, By their good works exalted ; lofty minds And meditative ; authors of delight And happiness, whicli to tlie end of time Will live, and spread, and kindle. Even such minds In childhood, from this soliliiry Being, Or from like wanderer, haply have received (A thing more precious far than all that books, Or the solicitudes of love can do 1) That first mild touch of sympathy and thought, In which they found their kindred with a world Where want and sorrow were." [Wordsworth. In Yarrow Path, Mount Auburn, stands a monument of fine Italian marble. It is wrought from a design of the greatest of American painters — Washington Allston — and is erected to the memory of one of the most distinguished of American divines — William Ellery Cha.nning. On one side of the sarcophagus is this inscription : — 86 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 3l?ere rest tiie Kcmatns ot WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING, Born 7th April, 1780, at newport, b. i. Ordained June 1st, 1803, As A Minister of Jesls Christ to the Society worshipping God IN federal-st., boston : DIED 2d OCTOBER, 1842, WHILE ON A JOl'RNEV, AT BENNINGTON, VERMONT. On the Other side are the following words : IN MEMORY OF WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING, Honored throughout Christendom For his eloquence and courage, in maintaining and advancing The great cause of Truth, Religion, and Human Freedom, C|)(s fHonumciil Is gratefully and reverently erected. By the Christian Society of whirli, during nearly forty years, HE WAS PASTOR. The above inscription truly (expresses liie rliaraclcr of Dr. Chan- ning, a.s a jircarhiM- and Icaclicr of scripliire Initlis, and with iliat one CHANNING'S MONUMENT. 87) expression, '■'■ human freedom" proclaims the great object for which he lived and labored. Dr. C'hanning's ideal of a Christian minister was clear and lofty and during his whole life, he sought faithfully to be himself what he strove to delineate. "Like the man of genius," he stood forth as " the high priest of Divinity itself, before whom it befitted him to offer up not only the first fruits of his intellect, but the continued savor of a life high and pure, and in accordance with the love he taught." "jH thf grace which is of heaven. All but (he mind cither perishes in time, or vanishes out of time into eternity. Mind alone lives on with time, and keeps pace with the m;ucli of ages." THE CONCLUSION. 115 But there are others whose remains lie within the precincts of Mount Auburn, with whose fame the reader is faniiUar, though in re- gard to whom, the necessary curtaihnent of these pages will not permit us .space to render justice. We might speak of Buckminster, who perished in his prime, full of all faculties and all studies, and who has eloquently been called, by one of his professional brethren, "a youthful marvel — the hope of the church, the oracle of divinity ;" or of one who lived to " a good old age," and died full of years and knowledge — the late venerable John Davis — an upright judge and a wise coun- sellor, of whom it has been said, in a eulogy replete with glowing truth, that he " merited the title of a Christian philosopher. Over his old age philosophy and religion shed their mingled light, and poured their soft glories around his head:" — Of Amos Binney, who died recently in a foreign land, and whose remains have been buried in Mount Auburn, by the side of the parents whom he loved. For him the wonders of nature had a deep and abiding interest, and in him the natural sciences possessed a devoted friend. He was taken away in the midst of life, and yoixth, and love, when the pursuit of wisdom was his fascination ; when the world was sweet, and the "journey had been too short for the limbs to grow weary." He breathed his last in a strange land — the fair clime of Italy ; but if his latest prayer was like that of the aged patriarch, "bury me not in Egypt; but I will lie with my fathers ; thou shalt carry me out of Egypt, and bury me in their burying-place," his wish has been fully gratified. A classic monument, designed and executed by that distinguished artist, Crawford, will shortly be placed over his grave, and the hand of affection will then have paid the last tribute to the memory of a scholar and a good man. We might speak also of Henry Oxnaud, an enterprising sea- 116 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. captain, who relinquished his early pursuits, in which he had gained an honorable name, for mercantile life and a permanent home in Bos- ton. With the acquisition of weahh, came the opportunities for active benevolence ; but with these, finally, physical decay and death. He was a valuable citizen and a kind friend — one to love for his warmth of heart, and to imitate for his honorable enterprise. It is to his memory that the beautiful Gothic monument, of which the engra- ving in this work gives so faithful a delineation, has been erected. Militarv as well as civil history is brought back with our reminis- cences of Mount Auburn, as we tread over the graves of General William Hull, of Captain Abraham Hull, or of that long-lived veteran, Captain Josiah Cleaveland, to whose memory the citizens of Boston have recently erected a monumental tablet, and of whose remarkable life the following memorial has been recorded : — " He was l)orn at Canterbury, Connecticut, December 3, 1753 ; he died at Charlestown, Massachusetts, June 30, 1843. He was an officer of the ariiiv of freedom. He served his country bravely and faithfully through the whole w ar of the revolution. He fought lior battles at Bunker-hill, Harlem Heights, White Plains, Trenton, Princeton, Mon- moutii, and Yorktown. He sustained an unblemished reputation, and lived in the practice of every Christian virtue. He loved, served, and feared God. In the ninetieth year of his age, he Journeyed nearly five hundred mili's from bis home, to be present at the celebration of the completion of the monument on ]}uiiker-bill. He lived to witness that memorable s[)ectacle ; he was satisfied: lie laid down (inicth and yielded u\) iiis hrcMili. iir;ii- ilir scene of his lirst conflict with the ene- mies of bis country. Jle came among strangers; he died among friends." EM s fci ■•=1 THE CONCLUSION. 117 In the course of this work, we have two engravings representing monuments to Elijah Loring, Esq., of Boston, and J. H. Gossler, Esq., of Germany, — the former a successful merchant, honorable, up- right, and well-esteemed ; and the latter an enterprising and respecta- ble young foreigner, who sought his fortune far from his own home, in a land in which he gained many friends, and where his memory is yet honored with many happy recollections. The forest scenery around these picturesque spots of sepulture is peculiarly beautiful, and the memorials themselves evince taste in design, and skill in execution. But space fails lis to continue. even these brief obituaries, and, in- deed, for the mention of many others among the gifted and beautiful of the earth, male and female, over whom the angel Azrael waved his wings, and " wooed them out of being," whilst in the apparent exer- cise of health and strength. In the previous remarks in relation to Mount Auburn, and some of the most illustrious of its buried dead, we have been obliged to omit many sketches of individual character, which might have been both interesting and instructive. Several of the most enticing spots, marked, too, by monuments of beauty, are owned by those who are yet amongst us, buoyant with life and energy, and of whom to speak here in lengthened tribute, how much soever they might deserve our eulogy, would be inappropriate and premature. Mount Auburn has become a spot upon which all hearts unite in harmony of purpose, and from which the best aspirations of the soul arise like clouds of incense towards heaven. It is adorned by nature, and has been improved by art. It has become a sanctified sepulchre, worthy of Christianity, and of a refined and intellectual people. In the language of the lamented Story, here, then, " let us erect the me- 118 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. niorials of our love, our gratitude, and our glory. Here let the brave repose, who have died in the cause of their country. Here let the statesman rest, who has achieved the victories of peace, not less re- nowned than war. Here let genius find a home, that has sung immor- tal strains, or has instructed with still diviner eloquence. Here let learning and science, the votaries of inventive art, and the teacher of the philosophy of nature, come. Here let youth and beauty, blighted by premature decay, drop, like tender blossoms, into the virgin earth ; and here let age retire, ripened for the harvest. Above all, here let the benefactors of mankind, the good, the merciful, the meek, the pure in heart, be congregated ; for to them belongs an undying praise. And let us take comfort, nay, let us rejoice, that in future ages, long after we are gathered to the generations of other days, thousands of kind- ling hearts will here repeat the sublime declarations, 'Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, for they rest from their labors; and their works do follow them.' " Extending the possible advantages of such places of sepulture yet farther, we may be permitted to (piote an English writer — the editor of " Chambers' Journal" — who, in a description of the celebrated Ne- cropolis at Glasgow, asks, " Can we but wonder that cemeteries of this kind should be rare, when we think in \\li;il a dificreut position we are placed by them, with respect to deparlfd iViends ! As funeral matters are usually ordered, we seem to part forever from those we have loved and lost. We consign them to tiie cold, dark, and untended ground; llie [)hice of their rest is locked up from our siglit, or trodden only by strangers; and ere long, the lank grass, the nclile, and the rank weed, choke up tlirir ini\isited graves. How differeMt is it with such ccmet<'ries as Pere hi Chaise! W'iien we lay down a l()\cd one n -^w SK THE CONCLUSION. 119 tlicre, we can still hold sweet coimnunion with him. We can show our affection by planting the loveliest flowers of summer above his head, and please ourselves with the belief that the tribute is not unbe- held nor unappreciated. We can pull a flower from the place of his repose, and carry it about with us, gratified with the thought, that if we cannot have our friend again, we have something, at least, that has sprung up from his dust. The place of death is no longer, in our eyes, a place of gloom, desertion, and sorrow, at the bare idea of which we shudder with horror and dismay. It is an agreeable resting- spot, to which we retire at the close of life, still to be visited, and gazed on, and cared for, by those we hold dear. Such is the change in our feelings on this subject, which these beautiful cemeteries are calculated to efl'cct ; and assuredly it is a change adapted neither to make us worse men nor less happy." " Plant not the cypress, nor yet the yew, Too heavy their shadow, loo yloomy their liue, For one wlio is sleeping in faith and love, With a hope that is treasured in heaven above ; In a holy trust are my ashes laid — Cast yo uo darkness, throw ye no shade. <■ " Plant the greea sod with the crimson rose ; Let my friends rejoice o'er my calm repose ; Let my memory he like the odors shed, My hope like the promise of early red ; Let strangers share in their breutb and bloom- Plant yo briglit roses over my tomb I" LIST OF PLATES. Map, (to face vignette.) View of the Pilgrim Path, ---------- Page 10 BiNNEy Monument, -----... ..gi Naval Monument, (Central Avenue,) 23 Chapel, .....36 Tomb to Spurzheim, --....... 40 Lowell Monument, ---.......44 Central Square, --.--..... 60 Harvard Hill, q-j Appleton Monument, ----..,.. 77 Monument to Channing, ---...--.85 Forest Pond, 94 Consecration Dell, --........ 101 BowDiTCH Monument, ......... 105 View from Mount Auburn, --.......-.112 View of Oxnard's Monument, -.-....... H5 " Gossler's " --..--....117 " Loring's " -.-.-.-... 118 Patterns of Railinos, • 120 m Q © _; — ,:??;|-2^.-i^..a~t — — ^-=^^<^^^ S^i ^' Wr^r. ' ^ ei^(SiaiIBEl TO MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. NEW-VORK, CITV. Asncw, A. ^f. Aijncw. Jolm T. Alt'onI, S. M. Allon, Jnhn Aiuirrsnii, |)r. Jiiines Andirson, Win. C Arthir, Mrs. DnnicI O. .Vrnolil. Dr. Wm. Arthur, Kdwarcl IF. .■\sliley, Dr. Jaiiiea .Mlifrton, F. l!ani-ki.'r, L. Buckley, Theodore A. UriiikerholV, (Jeorge lirand, Henry Hailev. Mrs. Joseph a-isseti. VV. B. Ucnediet, C. H. linker & Wells IJCII3, Wm. W. Br>ant, C. W. Browne, Geo. W. Brown, John K. Gngioli, Mrs. Antonio Baker, Miss Baker, P. H. Rallk^i, Henry W. Baiik-s, Win. Bjnnister, James Baptist, Anthony, Jr. Barker, Mrs. Abraham Barker, Mrs. Eliza Barker, Dr. Lake Bartow, E. J. Baylev. W. A. Beale, J. C. Beard.sley, L. T. Ueebe, Wm. J. Belloni, Louis J. Ben.wn, Charles S. Bells, Wm. Black, Mrs. Mary Blakelcv, Mrs. Andrew Blunt, G. B. Bonnett, Peter R. Bookhout, E. Booth, Samuel tiouton, L. S. Boyd, John J. Bovil, Robert H. Bradbur>-, J. K. Brandon, George Brass, J. D. Breck, Miss Briggs, James M. Brizee, George M. Brower, John L. Brown, Isaac H. Brown, John C. Brown, J. F Brown, Wm. Sn.iih Hryson, P M. Buck, VVni C Buckingham, George A. Burnnp &. Babcock Bushnell, O. Britton, !\Ir.o. .Tohn P. Biisieed. Riihiird Butler, James R. Butterworlh, J. F. Bynl, George J. I'uinining, J. V. Clark, Edward P. Candee. E. W. Cany, Edward Cleaveland, J. Carlwright, A. Collins, Gcorae Clarke, T. E." Coe, F. A. Carter, James C. Crolius, Clarksoii Clark, L. E. Carpenter, Warren Codman, Win. Clark, Wm. Young Crane, Theodore Connolly, Charles M. Coinstock, D. A. Cushing, G. W. B. Christman, Charles G. Clayton, W. A. Clayton, James H. Christiansen, Edward T. Chapiii, Dr. John R. Crocker, Mrs. Eben. B. Classen, James M. Corwin, John H. Cornell &. Jackson Carroll, J. B. Coloin, Mrs. Andrew J. Charles, Maurice Carpenter, Widow Snruh Chesebrough, E. Covert, Richard D. Cooper, James Collier, Mrs. Mary Covert, Edward Column, Mrs. Wm. Charrollc, D. W. J. Daier, Henry Dodge, Henry S. Dowlcy, John Douglas, A. E. Dole, Nathaniel Dickinson, Edwin S. Duryee, Jacob Duryee, Mrs. Isaac Dashwood, G. L. Disbrow, Wm. D. Dean, Miss Louisa Dunham, John Diinlap &- Thompson Dougherty, Mrs. J. T Dayton, James S. Day, Charles J. Davie, Miss .Margaret S. Dodge, Wm. Durand, A. B. Dwight, Edmund Duryee, Mrs. Abraham Davis, Win. J. Dill, V'ineenl Diinuliiie, James E^'geri, John Elliott, Dr. Srimuel M. iOrving, Washington I'jrving, Wm. I'IniKlers, Benjamin French, Mrs. Daniel Field, Wm. Franklin, Morris Francis, L. Fox, Samuel M. Field, Cyrus W. FoUeli, R. F. Finn, A. F. Fitzijerald, Ezekiel Freeman, Charles I'. FleleiRT, (Jsear B. Fret'inan, Dr. A. Finch, Nathaniel Foster, James Farless, Miss Farre, .1. R. Fiske, E. W. French, Daniel (Jrove, G. (irilTjng, Frederick Groesheeck, Orlando firilliii, W. (Jid'ird, (ieorge Gridith, G. W. Guniher, Christian (J. (Jeiding, G. F. Grinin, John F. (ioodhiie, Jonathan Gill, John Green, Mrs. Joseph Giles, John S. CJamer, T. Giles, Charles T. Green, Dr. Horace Grinnell. M. H. (Jray, John H. Gillespie, G. D. H. Hnviland, Mi.ss {Icivt, D.ivid Ha'vilaiul, R. B. Hunt, .Samuel V. Hall, George L. Halliday, Thomas A. Hammond, Samuel lIotTiiian, Martin Ha vi land, R. F. Harris, Thomas B, Hague, John Herring, F. W. Hayes, If. M. Hart, Lucius Hpiiriqiie, Charles Hart, Francis Hills, Jnrvis H. Hill, Henry .S. Howe, Augustus Iloeber, W. A. Hoe, Peter S. Harbeek, John H. ll;,vwoo,l,G. M. lloif, Mrs. J.L. Holhrook, E. Hale, .Mrs. A. D. Hone, Philip llnbl:ard, N. T. Hutlon, Rev. Dr. M. .S. Hurlbnt, Mrs. H. A. HinsheUvocKl, Robert Hanks, Owen G. Hill, James R. Hoflhian, Mrs. L. M. Horn, A. F. M. Health, Mr.s. Francis Hni;,'lil, Mrs. Charles Hill, James A. Iruiisiilc, Roger B. Ives, David S. Ingersoll, C. L. Jones, .Alfred Jenkins, II. B. Jones, .S. T. Johnson, Henry W. .lordan, Conrad Johnson, Henry .lohtison. Miss C. J. .leidiiiis, Thomas W. Johnson, Miss Sarah .fohnson, W. S. .Jacobus, David Kissani, (teo. FJ, Fvnapp, J. K. Fvissam, \Vm. A. Kenible, Win. Kinsman, Israel Kioibrill, D. S. Kf lliiifg, W. C. Keichum, J. Knapp, .S. K. Iving-sley, E. M. Knapp, Stephen IF. Krebs, Rev. John M. Kimball. Mrs. M. T. (". Loder, J. E. Lyman, John FF. Livingston, A. Fryman, Lewis Fjasak, Francis W. F.angley, W. C. Fxjwis, Ezra liCthbridge, Robert Lord, .S. F.eland, J. A. Fx;wis, W. H. Linen, James Lawrence, D. F^yneli Little, Edward Fjibby, Ira Fjowe, B. Lester, Andrew F.udlam, Miss Eliza I.ane, Smith E. I/eroy, Jacob Iiewis, George Mescrole, A., Jr. Marsh, Mrs. W. FF. Meserole, J. V., Jr. Meeks, Mrs. Rulh Morgan, AI. C. Marsh, Mrs. W. B. Mar.-hall, P. II. Marsh, James Morewood, J. R, Mills, J. W. Miller, John H. Matthews, J. .M. Marvin, A. B. Mitchell, M. Mead, Ralph Macy, F. H. Mead, J. S. Messollicr, H. L. Morrison, David Martin, R., Jr. Marsh, Win. R. Moore, J. T. Munson, Robert Mercantile Library Assoc'n Mullany, E. B. Macy, Mi.ss Elizabeth Mead, L. M. IMacy, Miss Martha Miles, W. B. Marsh, J. P. Miles, A. Mitchell, Mrs. Cuthiinne Maybic, Abraham 1' Milnor, Charles E. Mann, Wm. Mitchell, Miss Mary Moflatt, Miss Mary Meakim, Alexander McLean, Geo. W. McGregor, D. McCorinick, R. McKee, J. McCurdy, R. II. McEvcrs, Bache McBride, Henry McLean, FFenry McGrath, M. McChesney, Wm. V McLeay, Tliomas W. McKce, J. W. Newbold, George Naylor, Joseph Niles, (ieorge W. Noble, John Sanfo") Nolton, Mrs. R. FF Noe, Benjamin M Olcott, H. W. Osborn, Mrs. Wm Okell, Wm. Otten, Hinrich Ovi'igtiin, \V. FF. O'Boyee, Miss PIk«.- Phelps, (J. W. Priest, Wm. FF. Phalen, James S17BSCRIBERS TO IflOVNX AUBVRIV. Powell, E. S. Pollev, Grahams Piatt', G. W. Pern-, R. B. Polh^nius, Theodore Peck, Alfred P. Poole, Wm. Protheroe, Robert Putnam, O. C. Pufter, George S. Polhamus, John Phelps, George Post, Mis. Lariiiia Phyfe, J. M. Pierce, Mrs. Edward Pell, Wm. W. Prosser, Thomas Quintard, O. P. Ruete, Charles T. Rader, M. Ryckman, G. W. Ray, Robert Rose, Wm. W. Roe, G. Scott Rothwaler, B. Rossiter, C. D., Jr. Ross, Andrew Robinson, B. F. Randall, David Rowland, George Read, George W. Richards, W. W. Robinson, James P. Richards, Thomas F. Rockwell, Samuel D. Root, Albert Rowell, Charles S. Rohson, J)r. Benjamin R. Rich, Abraham B. Rankin, Wm. Ridabock, Mrs. M. A. Rapetti, Mrs. .Michele Ralph, Dr. Joseph Selden, Dudley Stiles, Samuel Smith, .lames E. Smillie, W. C. Smith, Augustus N. Spear, George Skippon, Robert Scryinscr, J. Seaman, J. A. Shaw, James M. Smith, Charles H. Smalley, Geo. C. Smith, Thomas W. Strong, Damas Siffken, Francis E. St. Felix, George Edward Sherman, BjTon Schufell, W. T. Souihwick, Nathan •Sadlicr, Dennin Souihwick, G. W. .Smith, Hiram Shepherd, Thomas II. Smith, Stephen Seymour, W. M. Schermcrhom, A. Schmidt, Mrs. John \V. Sandford, Marcus H. Serley, W. A. Swan, John Smart, R. L. Schurhnrdt, C. W. F. .Sner, A. J. Sandlurii, It. Smith, Edwin Sutton, A. P. Scobie, James Spear, Henry Smith, Miss EUzabeth Timpson, George Tripler, H. E. Thompson, Jonathan, Jr. Thomas, L. W. Titus, S. R. Tompkins, E. O. Thomas, John Timpson, J. H. Townsend, John J. Taylor, Gordon P. Townsend, Wm. H. Turnure, John L. Thompson. Andrew Taber, C. C. Teale, John P. Underbill, Daniel Unkart, E. Vanzandt, Mrs. .Taneway Vandervoort, P. H. Van Ncsl, Henry Van Santvoord, Cornelius Valentine, A. A. Vyse, Charles Valentine, Richard C. Van Horn, John Vincent, Benjamin Van S:nni, Mrs. John A. Van .'Vntwerp, Mrs. James Vallance, Mrs. C. Van Blarcour, Mrs. A. Van Der Werken, Mrs. Williams, G. S. Warwick, John Waterbury, A. G. Warren, H. M. Walsh, N. Weed, Mrs. M. White, F. Weed, Nathaniel Winslow, James Waikiss, C. L. Wakeman, Wm. Webb, Charles D. Willets, Daniel T. Waldron, J. P. Wheeler, Jackson Wilson, Mrs. Nathaniel Whitney, Benjamin S. Wilson, Mrs. B. M. Woorl, Mrs. E. B. Williatiis, Edward P. Wyman, I,. B. Williams, Mrs. Elizabeth Wliiitemore, Wm. T. Winser, J')hn R. While, Edward White, R. H. Wills, J„seph C. Webb, (;. W(»od, (jcorge W. Waller, Alfred While, John T. Waterbury, II. II. Wiley, .lo'hn Wyman, I{. A. Warfr.rd, W. K. White, W. A. WeliHler, George G. Whil.-, K. Wnlmough, R. B. Wbiimg, W. E. Writdu, !•;. WcR^oii, David WcHKoii, Andrew Wjleomb, J. Wood, George S. Youle, John C. B. Young, Miss Zimmermann, John C. BROOHLITN, N. V. Abraham, George Adams, J. C. Atlantic Lodge, No. 50, ) I. O. of O. F. S Atkins, J. Bolander, C. J. Benschoten, Samuel Burrell, Wm. Brooks, T. Bennett, Winaiit J. Blackburne, R. C. Butler, James G. Bond, Miss Beniiam, .Tohu Buck, Thomas W. Bailey, Robert Banks, E. L. Brush, J. B. Barney, Hiram Bryant, E. W. Barter, John Bridge, E. Bergen, Peter Burbank, Mrs. Wm. Burrill, George Bergen, Garrett G. Ball, Mrs. Mary Booth, Mrs. R. Barkuloo, Tunis Burtis, O. D. Cole, James Copley, C. Christiansen, Nicholas Coope, David Childs, G. C. Conklin, H. N. Campbell, Alexander Copland, J. M. Cullen. Dr. H. J. Cornell, Chauncey Cowing, James A. Cro.ss, J. A. Dwight, Mi.ss CaroHnc E. D<'ane, Miss Maria Davis, B. W. Dodge, Mrs. Day, Willard Edey, Hemy Eanies, (Judge) Elwell, J. W. Evans, Ira P. Field, Charles A. Farley, rrederick A. Fletcher, H. U. Fobes, Mrs. A. Graves, R. Graham, J. B. Giltilland, Dr. George Graham, Augustus Greene, K. II. Grey, Dr. Sanniel S. Gilberl, Joseph Herbert, Sidm-y C. Hall, John HnrriHon, MisB Mary Hall, George Hyde, Dr. Lucius Hul^ >- ,^ JUN 2 2000 DUE 2 WKS FROM DATE RECEIVED ,^^ByRL JUL 1 ^ "00 Of EUNIVf 11? 1 •'>dOdilW . -< .vVl' ^\yfu>)ivfi?rft^ ^r.> ^-(5l]OfiYS01^ ^/^a3AINI1-3l\V^ ^ ^1 ir ^ ^1 -'J'lJJNViUl^ "OtljAlAiMW^ ■■'OL ^OFCALIFO% ^OfCAllfO% ■ "i xC? j;; ,.;nF-rAI.IFO/?('. .40FTAIlFO,?iv , iMF WIVFR.V//, :^ ^->^» I v>t' Vr. ^ ,— ' I t r- ^dAavaani^ ^OAaviiaiii'^ ■<'713DNVS01'^ v/5a]AIN(lH\V' ^^^illERARYO/: ^^^WIBRARYQr J %oi\miQ'^ l5 % ^ ■■'JUJllVJjU'- '"JUJl. ^OFCAllFOffx^ ,^,OF■CAllF0% aW[UNIVER% vAavaaiii^ yiJUNViun •'/iajAINIIJHV 'c/Aavaaiiit^' "i/Aovaaiii'T' jjUJNViur-* ■<'iaii\w ^•lOSvVJCflfx^ p . .. _ CO ^^tllBRARYQ^^ <:^tllBRARYQr^ ■S^- .-^"ii. .'1^'* 4^^ ^OFCAUFOff^/. ,4,0FCA1JIF0R|^ .^WEUNIVERJ/A. 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