USA > South Carolina > Charleston County > Charleston > Address delivered on the dedication of Magnolia Cemetery, on the 19th November, 1850 > Part 1
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.
BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY
3 9999 06659 500 8
4332
.22
Research Library
Nº 4332. 22
PUBLIC LIBRARY
TREFILVX
KOMNIVM
ETCIVIVM
OF THE CITY OF BOSTON
GIVEN BY
Hm. Everett, Esq.
1/22
ADDRESS
DELIVERED ON THE DEDICATION OF
MAGNOLIA CEMETERY,
PUBLIC LIBRARY
A 'ON' THE ,
4332.22
ɔ
?
19TH NOVEMBER, 1850.
BY CHARLES FRASER.
CHARLESTON, S. C. STEAM-PRESS OF WALKER AND JAMES, 101 EAST -BAY. 1850.
6
From 4405.5 81509
ADDRESS.
GENTLEMEN :- You have not inappropriately selected one to address you, on the dedication of the Magnolia Cemetery, to whom the most of life is in retrospect, and whose future is bounded by no distant horizon. The occasion is solemn and impressive, and the reflections it excites well become him whose early friendships have almost all passed away like a dream, and whose most cherished recollections are identi- fied with the grave. We have met here for no ordinary solemnity-not to honor the living, not to rehearse the praises of the departed sage and statesman, or to do reverence to the memory of a virtuous and victorious chief-but to pay our homage to the great conqueror of conquerors, and to wit- ness the completion of another mansion "in the house ap- pointed for all living."
This soil, hitherto yielding its increase to the labors of the husbandman, is henceforth to become the domain of Death ; and God alone, as it pleaseth him, can give a body to the seed that is to be sown in it. The blossoms which spring up beneath our feet, and which have hitherto known no other refreshing influence than the dews of evening, are doomed to be moistened by the tears of affection, and to become the embellishments of the tomb. And these venerable trees, whose spreading branches have been so long tuneful with the harmonies of Spring, are now destined to re-echo the wail of sorrow and mourning. From every purpose, therefore, of human industry or relaxation, are these precincts to be hence- forward forever divorced. The sentence of their consecration has been pronounced, and they are now religiously devoted to a purpose, which, in every age and condition of society, has been hallowed by the profoundest respect and veneration
4
ADDRESS OF CHARLES FRASER
We stand upon ground which the implements of agricul- ture are never again to disturb, or the voice of mirthful industry to profane. Around us are the future graves of the aged and the young, the learned, the wise, the lovely and the innocent ; the favorites of fortune, and of those upon whose paths the light of prosperity has never shone. This peaceful asylum offers rest from their labors, a shelter from every storm, a defence against every danger and vicissitude ; whilst to those who shall be prematurely snatched from the endear- ing attractions of childhood and youth, it pledges the sweet- est sympathies of nature.
The world-wide, varied, beautiful-with all its diversities of season and climate, its pleasures and its occupations, its joys and its affections, its follies and its frivolities, is the domain of the living. It becomes, therefore, the no less grateful than natural duty of the living, to provide for the peaceful slumbers of the dead, and to gather around their last resting-place every tribute of respect, and every emblem that may be suitable to its loneliness and repose.
This duty is so consonant to the best feelings of humanity, that there is none more universally recognized. Even the savage lays aside his ferocity in its pious discharge ; and in constructing the mound of turf over the remains of his kin- dred, seems to invoke the sympathies of posterity. The re- motest nations of antiquity-those whose history is but dimly discovered through the mists of time -- have yet left indestruc- tible memorials of their pious and ardent desire to preserve the remains, and embalm the memory, of distinguished co- temporaries and cherished relatives. This duty, so sacred even amongst the uncivilized, becomes elevated in proportion to the refinement and cultivation, either of the individual or the community which it influences. If it be natural and grateful, it is also honorable and praiseworthy, and involves a high and abiding social obligation. Who can estimate the claims of the grave ? To the dead we are indebted for the purest examples of public virtue, and of private worth. To the dead we are indebted for many of those discoveries and improvements in art and science which are diffusing the blessings of comfort and prosperity throughout the world.
5
ADDRESS OF CHARLES FRASER.
To the dead we owe the high standards of intelligence and urbanity which give to social intercourse its greatest charm. To the dead, even in our own beloved country, we owe, not only the foundations of the great fabric of our liberties, but those lessons of wisdom, justice and moderation, upon the observance of which alone can depend its stability. Whilst to the memory of those with whom we have journied through the rugged paths of life, and " taken sweet counsel together," we owe the unceasing tribute of respect and affection-that tribute which .
" a grateful mind,
By owing, owes not. But still pays, at once Indebted and discharged."
And shall not such considerations as these awaken a deep sense of the claims which society has upon our best efforts for its welfare? How much of those exertions, corporeal and intellectual, which it would have been our duty to make, have we been exempted from by the labors of our predeces- sors ? Shall we then live on the wealth acquired by their industry, or bask in the glory which their virtues have reflected, and yet be regardless of what we owe to posterity ? Is it not rather sacredly incumbent on us to endeavor to trans- mit, improved and multiplied, the benefits and advantages thus gratuitously provided for us ? These obligations, if duly regarded, cannot fail to stimulate and ennoble our exertions. These are the appeals of the grave -- these its voiceless teachings, the lessons it inculcates, the feelings it invokes, and the debt it calls upon us to discharge. Then hallowed, forever hallowed, be its precincts. May they be invested with every association that can heighten their solemnity, or add to their quietude.
In the cemeteries that surround the city of Constantinople, the profoundest repose is said to prevail. The sound of a human voice is never heard within them, for silence and tranquillity are considered by the Turks the peculiar privi- leges of the tomb. The youth of Athens sought the deepest recesses of the Academy, to receive the instructions of their sages. The student of all times has betaken him to the pri-
6
ADDRESS OF CHARLES FRASER.
vacy and solitude of the closet for meditation. And where, with all its edifying attributes, could a cemetery be more appropriately located, than amidst the tranquil scenes of nature ? Where could its mute eloquence be more emphatic and salutary ? Hence the contrast that there always must be between the repose and seclusion of a rural cemetery and that of a crowded city, surrounded by the parade and the levities of fashion, by the noise and bustle of business, and too often desecrated by the jests of the heedless and profli- gate. Over the one, nature loves to breathe her sweetest harmonies, and to shed her balmiest dews ; whilst the other is beset with every association that can repel thought and meditation. The expanse of the one invites the varied and instructive lessons of the " rolling year ;" whilst to the nar- row limits and dreary uniformity of the other, the seasons, as they change, bring no relief. But in nothing could this con- trast be more striking, than in the funeral scenes they respec- tively exhibit. There is a mournful solemnity-a soothing quiet-a devotional influence in the one, disposing the heart to every impression which the occasion should excite. Whilst in the other, the religious services are often performed amidst crowds of unconcerned spectators-intruding upon the weep- ing mourners, (as we all have seen) even at the very side of the grave, and intercepting, as it were, the last tribute of remembrance and affection.
The most beautiful and popular poem in the English lan- guage was suggested by a country church-yard. Mr. Burke said that he would rather sleep in one, than in the tomb of the Capulets. And what could we conceive more soothing to the spirits of Walton and Evelyn, than that their last long slumber should be passed beside the murmurs of a favorite rivulet, or beneath the shelter of a spreading grove !
The agreeable associations suggested by the name of Sir John Evelyn, the immortal author of the Sylva, are so inter- woven with our subject, that I must devote to them the atten- tion which they claim. A cemetery, such as is here con- templated, may be so arranged as to combine with its real object the most agreeable and diversified embellishments ;
7
ADDRESS OF CHARLES FRASER.
for where may not the pervading influence of taste be ex- hibited ? And why should it be excluded from the sanctuary of the grave ?
" Does the gay flower scorn the grave ? the dew Forget to kiss its turf ? the stream Refuse to bathe it ? or the beam Of moonlight shun the narrow bed, Where the tired pilgrim rests his head ? No. The moon is there, and smiling too, And the sweet song of the morning bird Is oft in the ancient yew-tree heard."
It is the primary object of art, in the representation of any subject or scene, to bring together whatever may be charac- teristic of its design, and excite the associations intended to predominate. Now, without inquiring into the philosophy of that feeling which, amongst the civilized of all ages, has led to the decoration of the last abodes of the dead, we must admit that that feeling not only still exists undiminished, but chastened and elevated by the influence of modern taste and of Christian refinement. The temples and obelisks and pil- lars, and other costly structures of former times, were as much the monuments of living vanity as of departed worth. But the taste of the present day is to invite contemplation, with all its soothing influence, by some modest memorial of the departed, more eloquent in its appeals to the heart than the proudest monument-to exchange the crowded church- yards of cities, whose associations, beyond the claims of pri- vate feeling, are neither pleasing nor profitable, for the quiet and secluded walks of a rural cemetery, where the mourner may withdraw, and indulge, unseen, the luxury of grief.
" When, stealing from the noise Of care and envy, sweet remembrance soothes, With virtue's kindest looks, his aching breast, And turns his tears to rapture."
To Sir John Evelyn we are indebted for the first great out- line of all modern cemeteries of this description. For, after the great fire of London, which destroyed so many churches, with their vaults and depositaries of the dead, he lamented
8
ADDDESS OF CHARLES FRASER.
" that a grated enclosure, of competent breadth, for a mile in length, had not been established on the north wall of the city, for a universal cemetery for all the parishes, with ample walks of trees, adorned with monuments, inscriptions and titles, apt for contemplation and memory of the defunct."
Every object that surrounds a sylvan grave is in unison with its appeals to the heart. The trees that shade it, the breeze that sighs over it, the shower that moistens it, the verdure that covers it, the blossoms that shed their sweets upon it, are all appropriate, and emblematic not only of its repose, but of its hopes. The seed that perishes, but to spring up into new life ; the sere leaves that fall upon it, but to be replaced by a new mantle of verdure, are all eloquent types.
" Shall man be left forgotten in the dust,
When fate relenting, lets the flowers revive ? Shall nature's voice, to him alone unjust, Bid him, though doomed to perish, hope and live."
If decay and re-production, decomposition and re-organi- zation, are the unvarying course of inanimate nature ; if the gloomiest day of winter but brings us, on its departure, nearer to the smiles of spring ; are we not admonished, in language not to be misunderstood, that " this mortal must put on immortality, and that what is sown a natural body, must be raised a spiritual body ?" And, therefore, how redolent of joy and hope, do these symbols, in their perpetually renewed freshness, make the graves of the pious and the virtuous ; for in the elegent language of Shirley,
" Only the actions of the just Smell sweet, and blossom in the dust."
And oh, is there nothing in that dust to distinguish it from any other -- no trace left of the spirit that once animated it, of that beauty, which was once embodied in it, those charms of youth and loveliness, representing all that we can con- ceive of angelic nature ! Yes. The same power that can arrest the scattered rays of the setting sun, and bid them beam with collective lustre on the morrow -- that power can re-animate this frail relic of earthly existence, spiritualized and meet for heaven.
9
ADDRESS OF CHARLES FRASER.
Such reflections as these can only be suggested by the view of a Christian cemetery. But, as we have just said, that the duty of honoring the dead has, in all ages, been consonant to the best feelings of humanity, it may not be uninteresting to refer, however cursorily, to the habits of some of those nations which existed before life and immor- tality were brought to light by the Gospel, or to whom its hopes have not been yet revealed ; in all of which, however modified by time or circumstance, we will find a remarkable coincidence of motive and design-evincing a desire to pro- long the memory, and preserve the remains of the body after its separation from the soul.
It was rather the hope, than the certainty, of their reunion, that induced the ancient Egyptians to prepare their dead for that happy event, by embalming and providing for them the most costly and durable habitations. The Necropolis of Thebes, and that of Memphis, and innumerable other monu- ments, whose existence dates almost beyond the reach of chronology, attest the art, the labor and the wealth bestowed on these wonderful structures, so emphatically called the cities of the dead ; whose quiet population consisted of races and generations. But vain hope ! Those sepulchral sanc- tuaries, with all the splendor of their adornments, have long since given up their hallowed deposits. Their "adyta pene- tralia" have been sacreligiously invaded, and now the unte- nanted Mausoleum and plundered sarcophagus, are but melan- choly remains of human pride and power. And what were intended to immortalize kings and princes, have, after a lapse of untold ages, become rather the monuments of departed nations.
In no place that we read of, was greater respect paid to the dead than in Athens. In the performance of every rite, and in the observance of every solemnity which even super- stition required, the heart seemed to take an active share. The grave of a deceased friend was anointed with perfumes, and decorated with garlands of myrtle and amaranth, and his memory was ever afterwards held sacred. The law pro- tected it ; for a severe penalty was imposed by their great legislator upon all who spoke evil of the dead. And the
10
ADDRESS OF CHARLES FRASER.
monuments erected to their memory, it was always consi- dered a sacred duty to honor and respect. A good name was regarded by the heathens as the only human blessing of which death could not deprive a man. And the certainty of its being thus guarded, was a great consolation in their last moments.
Nor were the Romans less observant of all the solemnities due to the obsequies of departed friends. For, whether they burned, or buried them, their tombs were held sacred, and were protected by law from violation. To the Romans, more than to any other people of antiquity, are we indebted for the touching and beautiful custom of scattering roses over the sepulchres of the dead, now so much practised in all civilized countries, and of which we have so recently seen a striking instance in our community. The rose, it is well known, was a favorite flower amongst the Romans, and always used in the greatest profusion on festive occasions. Their poets abound in allusions to this habit, which prevailed even to the latest period of the empire. But one of them alludes to roses also as an emblem of mourning. Indeed, so grateful was their odor believed to be to the manes of the dead, that entire gardens are said to have been bequeathed by wealthy Romans for the adornment of their tombs ; whilst the less fortunate citizen was satisfied with this humble appeal to the wayfaring man.
"I pray you, traveller, scatter roses over my urn."
If their public buildings were so many monuments of strength and magnificence, their tombs were also erected upon a corresponding scale of beauty and durability. And their epitaphs (for their's was a language for epitaphs) were no less remarkable for tenderness of sentiment, than for con- densed beauty. Where could eulogy be more happily ex- pressed, than in these eight words, on a youth buried by the side of the Flaminian way.
" Castus moribus, integer pudore, Velox ingenio-decore felix."
Or how could parental affection be more touchingly inscribed, than in the following three :
" Pia mater fecit."
11
ADDRESS OF CHARLES FRASER.
If other instances were wanting, further to illustrate this universal feeling of respect and veneration for the dead, they are most touchingly exhibited in the cemeteries of the Turks. There is a law of their religion forbidding any other memo- rial to be placed over a grave, than a simple wreath of myr- tle or flowers ; but even this law of their religion is made to yield to that of affection ; for they have monuments of mar- ble, inscribed with all the beauty of Eastern imagery, and recording, in language at once figurative and mournful, the virtues of the departed, and the friendships which death has severed. Over the grave of one of their poets, is the follow- ing inscription : " The nightingale which charmed us on earth, is gone to sing in the groves of Paradise." Over that of a young unmarried female, are these beautiful expressions. " A tempest has swept over a garden of roses, and borne away a blossom to adorn the courts of heaven." And what could be more exquisitely touching, than this epitaph of a mother over her daughter : " The little bird of my heart has fled from its cage." We may further illustrate this part of our subject, by mentioning some individual instances furnish - ed by history. Such as the Mausoleum erected by Artemesia, Queen of Caria, to the memory of her husband, so magnifi- cent, as to be esteemed one of the wonders of the world ; the splendid monument, with its seven pyramids, raised by Simon to the memory of his brother Jonathan, as mentioned in Macabees ; also, those ancient sepulchral structures in and about Rome, whose ruins even now attract the admira- tion of travellers ; the monument to Cecilia Metella ; the pyramid to Caius Sestius ; and the tomb of Plautius Lucanus on the Tiber.
These examples, embracing the heathens of antiquity, and tho Moslem of the present day, show how much in harmony with those of the Christian, are the feelings that sanctify the grave in every age, and amongst all people, and how forci- bly they proclaim the universal identity of human affection, however elevated by education or abased by the want of it. Yet, after all, what beauty of phrase or of imagery is more striking, than the humble hope, inscribed upon a Christian's tomb, of resurrection to eternal life.
12
ADDRESS OF CHARLES FRASER.
If nothing has been said, in our reference to the customs of antiquity, about the burning of the dead, it is because there is nothing now more interesting in relation to it, than the occasion and the period of its discontinuance. As it originated with barbarians, its adoption by enlightened na- tions is the more unaccountable. A practice so repugnant to all the sensibilities inspired by Christianity could not with- stand its presence and its power, whithersoever introduced. It fled from it in Rome, and ultimately became extinct in every country to which the spirit and the influence of that religion extended ; and it now exists nowhere among civilized nations.
Burial or inhumation was a primitive custom, transmitted from the days of the patriarchs, continued by the Israelites, and finally and permanently adopted by the Christians. It was the most natural way of rendering obedience to the uni- versal sentence, "Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return ;" and nothing but heathen ignorance could have ever excused a disregard of it. It is the right and the privilege of earth to receive within its bosom, the body which it has nour- ished and fostered, and which, after the toils and infelicities of life, turns to it as to the arms of a kind parent. How much more touching were the last words of Jacob to his sons, " Bury me with my fathers in the cave which is in the field of Ephron the Hittite," than that remarkable address of the Emperor Adrian to the urn that was to hold his ashes : " Little urn, thou shalt soon contain what the world could not."
After what has been thus said, profane authority might appear superfluous ; but Cicero, in calling burial "a most ancient custom," antiquissimum sepultura genus, refers to that of Cyrus, as mentioned by Zenophon, which was cer- tainly at a very remote period ; for Cyrus lived about 200 years after the Prophet Isaiah, or 500 before the Christian era.
The burial of the dead without their cities, was also a pre- vailing custom among the ancients. It was practised by the Israelites. The burial-field of Jerusalem was in the valley of Cedron, and the only exception of burial within its walls, was in "the sepulchre of kings." David and Solomon and Jeroboam and Jotham and Ezekiah, all slept with their
13
ADDRESS OF CHARLES FRASER.
fathers in the city of David. And Jehoida was permitted to sleep there "amongst the kings," because he had done good in Israel. Every other remarkable grave which we read of in their history, was without the walls of Jerusalem. That sepulchre which Moses and the prophets had seen through the vista of time, was in a garden. "There was a garden, and in the garden a new sepulchre, wherein man was never yet laid." That of Lazarus was in a cave near Bethany. And the Scriptures inform us that after the resurrection, the saints who had risen from the grave, " walked into the city and appeared to many." The ancient Israelites had their sepul- chres in gardens,* on the sides of mountains, and in fields, over which the opulent families raised superb and ostenta- tious monuments ; and those were said to be the whited sepulchres to which the Scribes and the Pharisees were com- pared. Their burial places were objects of peculiar care, for they were considered as places but of temporary rest, awaiting another and higher existence. Hence, amongst the Hebrew writers, death was always described as a slumber, as is fully denoted by the expression so common with them, of "sleeping with their fathers." And even to this day, the grave, in the Hebrew language, is called " the house of life." And it is well worthy of remark, in connection with these views, that a burial place was the earliest acquisition of the Hebrews in Canaan, through their great progenitor, Abraham.
After the exclusion of funeral piles from the cities of Greece, on account of the danger of fire, the habit of bury- ing without their walls became universal. The cemeteries of Athens surrounded it on every side. The Ceramicus, which had been set apart for the burying of those who had done honor to their country, was detached from the city ; and the road leading to the academy, was lined with tombs of illustrious men. Every family had its separate burial place, and it was considered a great calamity to be laid any where but in the sepulchres of their ancestors.
We know that the burning and the burial of the dead
* Manesseh and Amon were buried in the garden of Uzza .-- 2 K., 21st.
14
ADDRESS OF CHARLES FRASER.
within the walls of Rome, were both prohibited by a law of the 12 tables, at an early period of the republic. And this would appear to authorize one of two conclusions-either that it was adopted from the customs or regulations of the countries out of which those laws had been compiled, or in- corporated into it afterwards, in consequence of a fatal domestic necessity. For, during the absence of the Roman senators upon their important mission, it is said by historians that a terrible mortality ravaged the city of Rome, which probably rendered this provision one of necessary policy in regard to health. It is very certain that this prohibition led to the ornament of their public roads, by very costly and magnificent tombs, and to have covered the neighborhood of Rome with stately sepulches and monuments. Augustus and Tiberius were buried on the Via Appia ; St. Peter was buried on the Via triumphalis, and St. Paul on the Via ostiensis. The eloquent Chateaubriand, in mentioning these sepul- chres, makes a beautiful allusion to the journey of life. " Among the Greeks and Romans," says he, "the dead are de- posited near the entrance of their cities, or along their high- ways, and their tombs appear, as in truth they are, like the monuments of so many pilgrims or travellers."
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.