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ADDRESS

DELIVERED

ON THE DEDICATION

OF THE

CEMETERY AT MOUNT AUBURN,

SEPTEMBER 24, 1831.

BY JOSEPH STORY.

TO WHICH IS ADDED AN APPENDIX, CONTAINING A HISTORICAL NOTICE
AND DESCRIPTION OF THE PLACE, WITH A LIST OF THE
PRESENT SUBSCRIBERS.

BOSTON.

JOSEPH T. & EDWIN BUCKINGHAM.

1831.

US13307,25 10332.38

1800

Bright fund.

At a meeting of the Committee of the Horticultural Society, September 24, 1831,-it was

"Voted, That the thanks of the Society be given to the Hon. Judge Story for his eloquent, feeling, and highly pertinent Address, and that he be requested to furnish a copy for the press."

H. A. S. DEARBORN, Chairman.

DEAR SIR

CAMBRIDGE, SEPT. 24, 1831.

I resign the manuscript of my Address to the disposal of the Committee of Arrangements, with my grateful acknowledgements for the indulgence with which they are pleased to view my labors. ought to add, that it was necessarily prepared in great haste, and without any thought of publication.

I have the honor to remain,
With the highest respect,
Your obliged servant,

The HON. HENRY A. S. DEARBORN,
Of the Committee of Arrangements.

JOSEPH STORY.

ADDRESS.

MY FRIENDS,

THE Occasion, which brings us together, has much in it calculated to awaken our sensibilities, and cast a solemnity over our thoughts.

We are met to consecrate these grounds exclusively to the service and repose of the dead.

The duty is not new; for it has been performed for countless millions. The scenery is not new; for the hill and the valley, the still, silent dell, and the deep forest, have often been devoted to the same pious purpose. But that, which must always give it a peculiar interest, is, that it can rarely occur except at distant intervals; and, whenever it does, it must address itself to feelings intelligible to all nations, and common to all hearts.

The patriarchal language of four thousand years ago is precisely that, to which we would now give utterance. 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;

and 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 is the duty of the living thus to provide for the dead. It is not a mere office of pious regard for others; but it comes home to our own bosoms, as those who are soon to enter upon the common inheritance.

If there are any feelings of our nature, not bounded by earth, and yet stopping short of the skies, which are more strong and more universal than all others, they will be found in our solicitude as to the time and place and manner of our death; in the desire to die in the arms of our friends; to have the last sad offices to our remains performed by their affection; to repose in the land of our nativity; to be gathered to the sepulchres of our fathers. It is almost impossible for us to feel, nay, even to feign, indifference on such a subject.

Poetry has told us this truth in lines of transcendant beauty and force, which find a response in every breast;

For who, to dumb Forgetfulness a prey,

This pleasing, anxious being e'er resigned,
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,
Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind?

On some fond breast the parting soul relies;
Some pious drops the closing eye requires ;
E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries;
E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.

It is in vain, that Philosophy has informed us, that the whole earth is but a point in the eyes of its Creator,-nay, of his own creation; that, wherever we

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