USA > Ohio > Hamilton County > Cincinnati > The Cincinnati Cemetery of Spring Grove: reports forms, etc > Part 6
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10
[ 70 ]
tomb and monument erected here, prove a silent preacher of righteous- ness to the living. May every family vault and enclosure remind them of the adopted family of God, and the supreme importance of seeking a home in the skies. May every tear dropped upon this soil-and every sigh wafted over it, be connected with that godly sorrow which worketh repentance unto life. And may all who have an interest in this resting-place of the mortal body, make sure of an interest in that rest of the immortal soul, which "remaineth unto the people of God."
Heavenly Father ! Let all funeral rites and offices which may, from time to time, be performed in this place, redound to thy glory. Let every prayer offered here be acceptable incense-every hymn be sung with the spirit and the understanding also-and every exhortation be heard with the hearing ear. And finally, in the latter day, when the last trump shall sound to wake up the dead, may all who shall be sleep- ing within this enclosure, rise to the life immortal-and be of those to whom the Son of Man will say, "Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world."
Let thy blessing rest upon the further exercies of this occasion. Be with those who are to engage in them. May every sentiment and word which they shall utter, be pure in thy sight ; and may they be instru- mental in impressing every attending mind, with solemn, holy, and wholesome thoughts. And to thy great name, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, shall be ascribed all the praise-now and for ever .- Amen !
LOUISE.C WEITZEL
HEM MOOR feb. . 26 Juli 1846 stark
A MOOR'S FAMILY MONUMENT
[ 7] ] Consecration Hymn.
BY WM. D. GALLAGHER.
AIR-Pilgrim Fathers.
Maker of all above! Father of all below ! As now we meet, thy 'chosen ' met Thousands of years ago.
Sojourners, like ourselves, On earth, for a brief space, They sought the grove, and hallowed it As their last resting place .*
And kindred feelings yet Thy children's bosom sway ; And oft they meet, as we have met Within these shades to day :-
The cool groves rising round, The slopes beneath them spread, We consecrate, with awe profound, Forever to the dead.
The Hebrew's latest sigh, 'Mid being's parting moans, Was, that his aged form might lie With his forefathers' bones.t
So when we've breathed our last, Here may our burial be, To wait with kindred dead, the blast That summons us to thee.
Thy smile is on us, God ! From the beautiful blue skies It looks, and from the fresh green sod That all around us lies.
Oh, when the hour shall come Earth's scenes no more we know, Smile thus upon our hearts, as down To the dark grave we go !
Thy voice is with us here, 'Mid the silence and the shade, Where oft the Mourner's bitterest tear Must fall upon the glade.
But it speaks not of despair- It bids us look above, At the Bow of Promise spanning there The whole broad Heaven of love.
* Genesis, c. xxiii.
t Id. o. xlix.
[ 72 ]
Ode.
BY LEWIS J. CIST.
When from the Garden of the Lord, The parent of our race was driven, Then bare he forth this solemn word, The sentence of Avenging Heaven- Of his offence the fruit-'twas said, In sweat and toil thou still shalt mourn, Till to that dust, of which first made, Thy kindred body shall return !"
Long ages since have passed away, But that stern sentence, spoken first To Adam, in Earth's primal day, Yet stands-its fiat unreversed ! To all his race (exempt no part,) The mandate high doth still remain ; "From dust first made-of dust thou art, And to it shalt thou turn again !"
And thus to toil and suffering born, Fulfils our race its destiny ; Still the primeval curse we mourn- To live-to labor-and TO DIE ! Yet as from Eden's peaceful shades, Reluctant wandered man first forth- So longs he still, in Eden's glades To moulder back to native Earth !
To use thus holy, dedicate, We set apart this hallowed space- This sacred spot now consecrate, To us and ours a resting place : And thus, upon this holy ground, While near yon City rears its head, Another City do we found- A quiet CITY OF THE DEAD !
Not with the bustling noise and din, With which our living homes we rear, To-day are we assembled in This sacred place, to feeling dear : For is it not a hallowed spot- This place, where we shall ask to lie With those we love ?- Oh ! is it not The holiest spot beneath the sky !
EDWIN
I.SEP.29.572
A. 9 THS
ANGIE
0-JAK.2.570 . A. I YEAR.
DR.WALKER
ADDIE. EDDIE
J P.WALKER'S
[ 73 ]
Here where swells yon blue sky above, And spreads this rich green sward beneath, We set apart for those we love, A fit abode in gentle death ; That not, as with the saddened gloom Of cloistered cell, and time-worn towers,
We'd link the memories of the tomb- But with the sunshine and the flowers !
Here gentle Beauty shall they bring, Whose resting place we thus prepare, Where softest murmuring winds shall sing Meet requiem o'er form so fair : Here, too-when Manhood's breast shall yearn His wanderings o'er the earth to close- His footsteps hither shall he turn To seek a last, sweet, calm repose !
Here shall the Warrior calmly rest, When conquering Death hath captive bound him,
Whose step the earth once proudly pressed, With all his marshalled hosts around him : And here the Poet, whose high lays Of noble deeds have sung the story,
Shall sleep, forgetful of the praise That once was his proudest glory !
Why should the memories of the dead Be ever those of gloom and sadness ?- Why should their dwellings not be made 'Mid scenes of light, and life, and gladness ? Here let the young and gay repair, And in this scene of light and beauty, Gather from Earth, and Sky, and Air, Lessons of Life, and Love, and Duty !
And here at many a dewy morn, Or calm and holy eventide, Affection's quiet steps shall turn, And o'er each loved form softly glide-
Whose gentle shade, still hovering near, The trembling mourner may accost ; And from each leafy tree-top hear The voices of " THE LOVED AND LOST !"
10
[ 74 ]
Address.
-
BY THE HON. JOHN M'LEAN.
"I am a stranger and a sojourner with you : give me a possession of a burying place with you, that I may bury my dead out of my sight."
These are the words of Abraham to the children of Heth. They were spoken on a mournful occasion-the death of Sarah. " And Abraham came to her tent to mourn and to weep for her: and for four hundred shekels of silver he purchased the field of Ephron and the trees that were thereon, and the cave of Macpelah, which was at the end of the field, for a burying place."
Sarah was among the loveliest of her sex. She filled the heart of the patriarch : and yet, when dead, he desired that she might be buried out of his sight. That visage, so remarkable for its beauty, had become marred by death ; and that form so lovely, was cold and lifeless.
Who in this large assembly has not felt the sorrows of Abraham ? Whose heart has not, like his, been wrung with grief at the loss of those dearer to him than life ?
Our assemblage here, this day, shows that we think seriously of death, and of the " house prepared for all living." We have come to conse- crate that house : to look over the place where the open grave shall soon receive us. This is the destiny of man. The grave is the end of his earthly hopes ; of his joys and sorrows ; his ambition, his worldly glory.
In all ages of the world, the living have felt solicitude about the place of their interment. On his dying bed, the patriarch Jacob said to his children, " bury me not in Egypt, but with my fathers in the cave of Macpelah, that is in the field of Ephron. There they buried Abraham and Sarah his wife ; there they buried Isaac and Rebekah his wife ; and there I buried Leah." And Joseph, when dying in Egypt, " took an oath of the children of Israel, saying, God will surely visit you, and ye
CATHAR
INE
^^WIFE OF JOHN C. NORRIS.
NOV. 12. 1806. DIED
NOV., 8: 1849
BORN
JOHN C. NORRIS'
[ 75 ]
shall carry up my bones from hence." Who could desire to die amongst strangers and be buried in a strange land ? There is no consolation in the impression, that the place of our interment shall be neither known nor cared for by any one. There seems to be society even in the grave. We cannot but cherish the hope that, when dead, we shall have the sym- pathies of the living. We could desire them to visit our graves, and to spread over and about them some memorials of their affection. It would now almost seem that the body, dust as it is, could scarcely be insensible to such pious remembrances of our friends. And the deathless spirit, unclogged by matter, we are ready to believe, sees and knows, with its quickened energies and enlarged powers, things on earth and in Heaven.
The reflection is consolatory on the bed of death, that our dust shall mingle with the dust of our friends. That the bodies shall be nearest each other in the grave, which were dearest to each other in life. That this is the feeling of our nature, all history attests. It is found in all countries, civilized and uncivilized. The barbarous nations of antiquity had high places for their sacrifices, and the burial of their dead. In more advanced civilization, the sepulchre was ornamented by works of art and nature. This impulse of the heart was not learned in the schools. It pervades all bosoms, in all ages and countries.
A burial ground, unfenced and unprotected, presents a cheerless and sad spectacle. It would seem that the dead who lie in such a place, had been strangely forgotten by the living. I envy the heart of no man, who can be content to see the remains of a beloved friend thus exposed and neglected. That philosophy is cold and repulsive, which teaches us that the body, being an insensible mass of matter, may be covered from our sight with little care or ceremony, and thought of no more.
When our friends are gone, we love to think and speak of their vir- tues. We cannot bear to lose a vivid impression of their form, their countenance, and manner. Nothing can be more chilling to the soul than the thought, that we should ever forget or neglect them. The dead body, it it true, is insensible of our cares for it. We may plant the jessamine in the clay that covers it, or construct over it a marble monument, or neglect it altogether, and it is all alike to that body. But in that grave reposes one, that when living, we cherished and loved. One who shared in our joys and sorrows : who watched over our sick bed with prayers and tears. Can the remains of such an one be neglected ? Never, surely never, until the pulsations of the heart shall cease. We cling to every memorial that is left us, with an unceasing devotion ; and we
[ 76 ]
regard the spot where the remains of such an one lie, as sacred above all other places.
Amongst the most ancient nations, the custom prevailed of selecting suitable places for general interment. The burial ground of the ancient Egyptians was situated beyond the lake of Acherusia, which signified the last condition of man. Those only whose lives had been exemplary, were admitted to sepulture in that place. "The Cemetery was a large plain, surrounded by trees, and intersected by canals, to which was given the appellation Elisions, meaning rest." From the name of this Ceme- tery, the approaches to it, and the rejection and deposit of the unworthy, originated the Greek fables of the Lake Acheron, Charon, his boat, his ferry money, and the Elysian fields.
The ancient Germans buried their dead in groves consecrated by their priests. The Romans, in the earliest times, buried their dead in public places. In the flourishing periods of the Republic, afterwards, they burned the dead body and buried its ashes in an urn. This practice was changed, and after the introduction of Christianity, chapels were erected over the dead. " The early Christian martyrs were buried in caverns, which, by degrees, were enlarged to spacious vaults, that were called chambers of repose. The Emperor Constantine directed his sepulchre to be erected in the Church of the Apostles at Constantinople, of which he was the founder. This influenced the Bishops and others to have their remains deposited in the vaults of churches; but this practice was found inconvenient and unhealthy to the living, and was necessarily abandoned. The Cemetery in Naples, near Bologna, at Pisa, is distin- guished for the beauty of its form and architecture. It is four hundred and ninety feet long, one hundred and seventy wide, and sixty feet high ; cloistered round the four sides, and contains fifty ship-loads of earth which the Pisans brought from Jerusalem.
The Greeks constructed their tombs outside the walls of their cities, with the exception of those raised to distinguished personages. This was also the practice of the Romans. Mrs. GRAY's tour to the supulchres of Etruria, is full of interest. The Moravian brothers form their burial place into a garden, and call it " friedhof, or field of peace." In some parts of Germany, every grave is covered with a bed of flowers, which the relations of the deceased water from a fountain dug for the purpose. The Turks beautify and adorn their places of burial, by winding avenues and the shades of the cypress.
The Pere la Chaise of Paris, where the dead of many generations repose, is, perhaps, the most interesting object to be seen in that great
Clara ID Cochter pon Ernst & Cornilia Überbeu . geboren 26 Jaft 1855 . gestorben 18 Apr. 1859 4
[ 77 ]
city. The simplicity and mournful aspect of its monuments, the variety and beauty of its flowers, its serpentine walks and beautiful shrubbery, its chapel and other improvements, draw hundreds of daily visitors. In England, of late years, public attention has been directed to the con- struction of Cemeteries, and many have been established. And in our own country, Mount Auburn, Greenwood, and other places, consecrated to the generations that are passing away, create a deep interest in all who visit them.
This rapid and imperfect sketch shows the working of the human mind on this solemn and impressive subject. We seldom see a house devoted to the worship of God in our own country, which has not in its neighborhood, and often in the same enclosure, a repository for the dead. But these are more or less neglected. In their plan they are too con- tracted, and there is a want of that system, accommodation, and taste, suited to the solemnity of such places.
In the selection of the ground for this Cemetery, no pains have been spared. It is recommended by its sequestered and beautifully elevated and undulating position ; by the aged forest which covers it, and the dry and sandy quality of its soil. This home of the dead should be conse- crated and adorned by the symbols of mourning, combined with those of hope. Nature, in all her luxuriance, should be here preserved, and so cultivated as to expand her wildest beauties. These trees should be pro- tected, and the lesser forest growths that we see; the grape vine and the wild flower, in all their variety, should be nurtured and preserved.
The monuments may be left to the taste, the affection, and the piety of bereaved friends. But all ostentation should be avoided. Simplicity is the language of nature, and best comports with the resting place of the dead. Avenues are necessary, and some have already been constructed for carriage ways, but they should not be too much multiplied. The more private walks should be serpentine, and so made, that the trees, the shrubs and the vines, shall cover the solemn foot-steps of the stricken in heart. The ground should be surrounded by a wall, or fence, which cannot easily be crossed-and on certain days no visitors should be admitted except those who have an interest in the ground, and come to mourn and weep over the graves of the departed. Thus prepared, this beautiful and appropriate ground will become a place of general resort, and of great moral improvement,
There is no language which reaches the heart with such power and effect as that which proceeds from the graves of those we loved. No unhallowed curiosity could enter so sacred a place as this shall become.
[ 78 ]
No heart can look upon it and be unmoved. The visitor will feel that he is in the territory of death. Nature within it may wear a cheerful aspect, and the songsters of the wood may be heard; but the memorials of the grave will be present whichever way the eye shall be turned, and this will sadden the heart. It cannot but lead to the following deep and sol- emn reflection : Here is the end of mortality. In a short time, I too, must become a co-tenant in this domain, and visitors will look upon my grave as I now look upon the graves of others. How such an assur- ance must chasten the heart. If this indeed be so, why should I cherish an unholy ambition for fame, or seek to accumulate wealth by doubtful means ? Why should I endeavor by injustice to enrich myself at the ex- pense of my neighbor, seeing the time of enjoyment is so short, and the end of my career is so certain ? I see it, and I feel it. This voice from the tomb reaches my heart ?
But there is something beyond what I see. This territory lies on the confines of eternity. It can scarcely be said to belong to earth. The. dead inhabit it. But their spirits are not in these graves. They live in eternity ;- that changeless state of existence, which lies but a step beyond the ground on which I now stand. Many of these bodies rest in hope of a blissful immortality ; but others may have no such hope.
No one could enter upon this ground, consecrated as it is, and improved as it will be in years to come, and not indulge in a train of reflection somewhat similar to this. And under such circumstances, no one could leave this place without being made better than when he entered it. Such will be the moral effect of the consecration and improvement of this place. And I now-in the presence of you all -- DEDICATE THIS GROUND-not to the living-BUT TO THE DEAD ! The trust shall endure, until time shall be no longer.
This will indeed be the place of tears, and of many sorrows. It is now consecrated as such. How solemn is this moment !- how impres- sive ! Many a Rachel will here mourn, and refuse to be comforted. Could I see and portray in the line of centuries, the broken hearted, who shall come here to give utterance to their sighs and their prayers, it would present an accumulation of sorrow too heavy to be borne. But, thanks be to God ? we do not sorrow as those who have no hope. Well did the great Apostle of the Gentiles say, "If in this life only we have hope in Christ, of all men we are the most miserable." There is hope in the grave. "In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump ; for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption,
MEM,37OF
SALLY
CONSORT OF JOSEPH PIERCE
1/2.2. 1101.
553.22. . >1.
FAMILY MONUMENT OF JOSEPH PIERCE
[ 79 ]
and this mortal must put on immortality. Then shall death be swallowed up in victory."
And is this destiny ours !- It is. That voice which came down from Heaven has so declared, and we believe it. Wonderful, surpassingly wonderful, revelation ! Our life, though it be but a span, and may be full of trouble, yet it leads to this great destiny. In this view, how noble is man ! He lives forever ! What are the factitious distinctions of earth in comparison with this! What the rank and power of the mightiest potentate, the greatest warrior, the wisest statesman, the most eloquent orator ! How insignificant all those great and rare qualities which sway senates and empires ; which explore the boundaries of human knowledge, and teach us the deep things of nature ! All these are lighter than air, when weighed against the mighty, the overwhelming fact of man's immortality.
The good man may, like Abraham, weep and mourn the loss of beloved friends, but he does not despond. He has hope in their death. He fol- lows them beyond the grave, and he looks to a re-union in Heaven. He can view the memorials of the dead with sorrow, as connected with the past, and with resignation and hope as regards the future. He is instructed and consoled. He will find these lonely walks favored above the common walks of life. They will teach the truest wisdom. Here he will learn what he is, whither he is going, and the vanity of all things earthly.
Had the grave never been penetrated by hope ; if the empire of dark- ness covered all beyond it, and there was no eternity for man, the ap- proach of that endless, starless, moonless night, would fill us with wild- ness and shuddering's of despair. In the language of desperation, we should say to our Creator, why hast thou formed and fashioned us as we are ? Why hast thou made this beautiful and sublime garniture of the universe ?- these numberless systems which perform their revolutions through infinite space ? Why enable us to calculate their courses and revolutions, and to understand the laws of nature ? Why this capacity for knowledge, this mental power, this reach of thought-and why-O, why ! this longing for immortality ? Why all this, if we open our eyes for a few days at most, to gaze upon the wonderful scene, and then close them forever ? But, blessed be God, life and immortality are brought to light by the Gospel. " We see in part, and we know in part; but the time will come when we shall see as we are seen, and know as we are known."
Under such a glorious prospect it becomes us to meet with proper for- titude, those events which are incident to our being, and which cannot
[ 80 ]
be avoided. We endure affliction, knowing it is good to be afflicted. And we are assured that suffering here, is no evidence of the displeasure of Heaven. HE chastens those whom he loves. We then take courage and bear ourselves firmly under the ills of life. That which may mar our present peace, and threaten to destroy it, may be a blessing in disguise. A voice from the grave may be necessary, to show us our danger and duty. However mixed the cup may be, we must drink it, and learn sub- mission.
History is said to teach by example ; but there are no events so im- pressively taught, as when we call them to remembrance, standing at the grave of the actor. His race is run. His character, for good or for evil, is now fixed and unalterable. If distinguished for eminent public services, in the field or in the senate, as a statesman, jurist, or orator, we are reminded of these high qualities whilst we gaze upon his tomb. And we feel an earnest desire to emulate his virtues and avoid his vices. Such incidents contribute largely to the formation of character. They awaken within us a mighty impulse for action, and from the grave, this impulse can only tend to a virtuous course of action. Who could stand at the grave of WASHINGTON, and not love his country, and desire to imi- tate the virtues of its most honored son ?
Within a century to come, what diversity of character will meet within this field of death ! Here may be interred the mighty dead, who, in life, made a deep and lasting impression on the age in which they lived-who lived more for the world and their country, than themselves. These be- ing honored in life, will be honored in death, by the grateful sense of their country. And every one who passes by will pause to read the inscriptions on their tombs. A great majority will not be thus known to fame. But they will not be the less dear to their kindred and friends, who will cherish a remembrance of their virtues. Humble many of them may have been in the circles of life, but their ashes will rest in peace : and the triumph of a dying hour, as recorded on their grave stones, will carry conviction to many a heart. And here and there will be found an inscription, on the grave of one who called sinners to repentance, and who has gone to his reward. Here, too, the widow will find a sepulture ; and, also, the heart-broken and disconsolate one, who may have borne up against the tide of adversity, until nature became exhausted and death was welcomed as a deliverer. The rich and the poor-all ranks and con- ditions, will here find a resting place. Here all will occupy the same level. There are no distinctions in the grave. Death is the great level- ler of mankind. Artificial grades, or positions in society, do not attract
[ 81 ]
his notice, much less his respect. His decrees are inexorable and unap- pealable.
Standing at the goal of human probation, it may be fit to pause, and consider the career that here closes. It is short, but it is full of inci- dents. However diversified are the pursuits, the professions and condi- tions of men ; they are all characterized by a restless anxiety and fond- ness of change. And this is as clearly indicated in the liumblest walks of life, as in the highest. There is always an object to be obtained, which, in the prospective, promises much enjoyment, but in the posses- sion gives but little. The mind is again in pursuit of a future good, with as sanguine hopes, as if another disappointment were impossible. It, however, comes as before : and again, other objects are pursued with un- abated confidence. This is the history of our species. All are deluded by the anticipation, and disappointed in the enjoyment, but the pursuit is unceasing.
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.