We cheerfully dedicate it to the fathers who chose this beautiful resting-place, so like that of the Pilgrim Fathers at Plymouth Rock, pioneers and partakers in a like faith, and a like appreciation of the beautiful in nature. We dedicate it to those lion-hearted men, who have left us a glorious inheritance-who, while

"The heavy night hung dark

The woods and waters o'er,"

and often over their dearest hopes, still sang the songs of Zion,

And prayed in their Bethel, the shade of the Rock.

We dedicate it with full souls on this

"Holy ground,

The spot where first they trod!

They have left unstained what here they found,
Freedom to worship God."

pure

We dedicate it to them for their toils and labors for the establishment of "the faith once delivered to the saints," for their lives, for their earnest zeal, for their pious teachings, for their shining examples. We dedicate it as a sacred memento of themas a solemn duty to ourselves. We dedicate it, that our children and children's children may learn to follow in the way of the holy dead. We dedicate it, that it may be "a rule unto ourselves,” inviting us to pursue "the things that make for peace," and pleasantness, so that when we shall have entered into our rest, and another century shall have rolled its ceaseless round, our descendants may revere our memory as we do that of the fathers so long ago translated.

Spirits of our fathers, long since ascended unto glory at the right hand of God! Spirits of the just made perfect! Do you hear us in your blest abodes on high? Do you note our filial aspirations to-day? Are you hovering over us as our guardian angels? Tell us not that when good men carried your bodies to the burial, and wept over these graves, you knew not, heeded not-the tears of affection! Are you pleased with our tribute of love? Are you not smiling upon us this very hour, soothing our spirits, as we offer to you this memorial our hands have made, and lift to you our filial hearts? Were you ever, while here below, afflicted with trivial contests and bitter recriminations—or, rather did not your great hearts always glow with love and kindness to

all? Do you look in pity upon us, when discord arises, and brethren disagree? Do you love us in your far-away paradise? Oh! we believe, yes-we believe in the beautiful doctrine of guardian angels! "In heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father?"

"You're with us yet, ye holy dead!

By a thousand signs we know!
You're keeping e'er a spirit watch
O'er those we love below!

Next followed the Dedicatory Poem, of which the following is, a copy, with slight omissions:

Ah, how doth that appear?

That a lawyer lacks brains, is what often may be,
Though I had not supposed that such lawyer was he."

"Nay, 'tis your brains he wants."

66

Ah, Home, search the world round, go east and go west,

Take all that is purest and sweetest and best;

Take the world's wealth, its grandeur, it's strength, and it's fame,

And, if other good is, fling in all ye can name;

For one hour in that spot, one glad thrill of the boy,

We would willingly give all the world calls it's joy.

What shadows we are, and what shadows pursue,"
Just go back forty years, let them pass in review;
Scarce one family's head, that stood here in its worth,
But the last forty years have consigned to the earth;
Our homes have changed owners, our farms too, till now
Scarce one gray head ye meet of that brief long ago.

Take one fact to this point. Just go back eighty years,
What a power was that name which the singer now bears?
What a wealth of wide acres? What strange business skill?
Each thing that he touched, changed to gold at his will;
'T would take ten modern men to make up his one mind,
Half the wealth of the town was in his name combined.
-Scarce two years since this hand signed the deed that conveyed
The last foot of land that great name once obeyed.

Yes, what shadows we are, and what shadows pursue,
We stand here to-day with the fathers in view—
The far-away fathers, and pastors, who led

Their flocks round these hills, on these pastures to feed ;
Guarded well each approach, kept the fold from all harms,
And, like Christ of old time, "bore the lambs in their arms."

We stand on their ashes! methinks as we gaze,
That they rise up!-confront us!-and ask of our ways!
There was WALKER, the gentle and meek-yet the shrewd,
There was STODDARD, the austere and plain-yet the good;
There was BENEDICT, solemn and slow, with an eye
That looked out like a star from its cavernous sky;
And a crowd of bright worthies, hover thick in their rear,
And all gaze, with bowed forms, on this pageantry here!

Is it nothing to stand on the graves of such men!

Come no thoughts up? no pictures of scenes stirring then?
Come no voices, loud ringing in every ear,

To tell us of life, throbbing life that was here?
Come no shadows, that fall down on every path

God appoints for each soul, in his love, or his wrath?
Aye, and fancy finds pastime in scenes such as these,
And weaves into voice what she hears, or she sees.

"Tis a beautiful part, as we stand here to-day,
And our thoughts travel off to that dim far away,
To call up that scene, and those forms, and those eyes,
That once looked around here on this new Paradise!

There was reverend age with its locks white and thin,
There was beautiful childhood, unsullied by sin,
There was vigorous manhood so stalwart and bold,
There were beautiful maidens so sweet to behold;

And they had all those cares, and those dreams, too, perchance,
That light up the world with the hues of romance.

There were some sad eyes there, that the hot tears had burned,
There were pale, gentle faces, whose hearts were in-urned
There were souls with dead hopes, that, still withering cling
Round the heart they had broke, and then left with their sting;
And other eyes there, with no smile any more,

Unless faith brought it down from that sunnier shore.

Yet a beautiful faith, that they brought here that day,
They came not for gold, let men say what they may;
They came not for power for no power was there here,
Save the power of meek patience, that dwells in a tear;
But they came with their souls, to this far-away wood,
To work out an approach to the all-perfect Good!
Have we, their descendants, departed from them?
Can we now, as they could, the world's currents stem?
Can we, as could they, break off that bond and this,
And alone rest the heart where its true treasure is?

As we stand on their dust, let our hearts go once more,
To that far away land, to that far away shore;
Let us try to draw down into each throbbing breast,
One tithe of that worth that the fathers possessed;
And transmit to our children, till earth cease to move,
Their courage, their patience, their sweetness, their love!

Ye are happy to-day in your home above,
Your hearts are all aglow;

Ye are smiling now with a look of love,

On us who toil below.

CHORUS

We greet you to-day, ye sturdy old stock,

Who rest from your labors here

From your prayers and praise at the Bethel Rock,

To shine in a brighter sphere.

CHORUS

This hymn was sung as a quartette by Messrs. William Cothren, James H. Linsley, William A. Gordon, and William B. Walker, in a most effective and beautiful manner.

The exercises closed with a Benediction by Rev. Austin Isham, of Roxbury.

At a quarter to 2 P. M., the bell called to the afternoon exercises. These were of a social character. Hon. N. B. Smith, grandson of the third pastor, the Rev. Noah Benedict, who had presided at the monument, also presided here, ably aided by the pastor, and Deacon Trowbridge, Chairman of the General Committee, acting as Vice-Presidents.

After singing, the Opening Prayer was made by Rev. Austin Isham :

Almighty God, our Heavenly Father, hallowed be Thy name, Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is done in Heaven. We hear Thy voice speaking to us on this deeply interesting occasion, saying "Seek ye My face." May all our hearts respond, "Thy face, Lord, will we seek."

We would approach Thy throne of grace with profound reverence and deep humility. When we consider the greatness of Thy majesty, and our own exceeding great vileness and unworthiness, we are led to exclaim "What is man that Thou art mindful of him, or the son of man, that Thou visitest him?

We feel that we have forfeited every claim to Thy favor and justly merit Thy displeasure. And yet, Thou hast not dealt with us according to our sins, nor rewarded us according to our iniquities; but as high as the Heavens are above the earth, so great has been Thy mercy toward us. We humbly thank Thee for all Thou