1876.] 



AND HORTICULTURIST. 



67 



gaged in the same occupation in his native coun- 

 try. He is famihar with the common and 

 botanical name of every plant in the building. 



The cost of the whole has been in the neigh- 

 borhood of $13,000, which includes the fitting up 

 of the gardener's cottage, just east of the conser- 

 vatory. 



Death is always an unwelcome visitor, whether 

 he comes to the aged or the young, the high or 

 the lowly. On the death of a friend or relative, 

 the mind is instinctively lifted from things earthly 

 to the world beyond. At such times the stern 

 realities of life grate harshly on the finer sensi- 

 bilities of human nature, and add to the suf- 

 ferings of those already deeply afflicted. Not 

 many years ago it was customary for relatives 

 and friends to gather around the grave at the 

 time of burial. As the beloved form was lowered 

 into the dark, damp earth, it seemed as if all 

 hopes of ever. seeing it again went down with it. 

 The heavy clods which rattled on the coffin lid, 

 fell with equal weight upon the grief-stricken 

 hearts of the mourners. It mattered not if the 

 winter's wind moaned drearily through the tree- 

 tops, and chilled the forms of those in waiting 

 till they seemed to feel the coldness of the grave; 

 or if the summer's rain fell thick and fiist like 

 their tears. Death is no respecter of times or 

 persons, and the sad duties were performed under 

 circumstances which made one shudder at their 

 recollection. 



Now all this is changed. When a body is 

 brought for interment, it is first taken to the con- 

 servatory, which is in itself a paradise. Though 

 life may have been darkened with shadow, here 

 all is bright. The turmoil and bustle of life may 

 have broken the heart worn with care ; here the 

 silence is only broken by the glad songs of birds 

 and the music of the fountain. Rugged, desolate 

 and dreary the paths of life often are ; here all 

 is beautiful as a fairy scene, beautiful bej^ond 

 comparison with other earthly scenes ; carrying 

 the thoughts with those who have gone before, 

 to that Eden where sin, and sorrow, and suffer- 

 ing are unknown : " Where the wicked cease 

 from troubling, and the weary are at rest." The 

 coffin is placed in the centre of the auditorium, 

 when the final services are held, and a last look 

 at the face of the loA'ed one is taken. None can 

 regret leaving their dead in such a place. On 

 either side are beds of blossoming flowers, beau- 

 tiful camellias, calla lilies, pelai-goniums, azaleas, 

 acacias, rhododendrons,geraniums,andotherhot- 

 house plants. Here is also a large lemon tree in 



bud, flower and fruit. Overhead are rustic 

 hanging baskets, magnificent in their variegated 

 colors. Ivies and other creeping vines twine 

 around the pillars and arches supporting the 

 roof. To these will be added a variety of tropi- 

 cal trees and plants, such as palms, palmettos, 

 orchids, passion flowers, and the finest of tropical 

 plants. 



Comes winter, with its cold chilling the earth 

 and wrapping it in a winding-sheet. The win- 

 dows of the lodge look out from under its snow- 

 capped gothic gables as if half asleep. The 

 thick branches of the fir bend beneath the weight 

 of the fleecy substance which falls on mound 

 and monument alike. It is the sleep of nature, 

 cold and cheerless as death itself. But under 

 the shining arch of the conservatory, life and 

 perpetual summer reign. Here, in warmth and 

 light, surrounded by beautiful buds and blos- 

 soms, amid the cheerful songs of birds and the 

 murmur of the fountain which flows as cease- 

 lessly as time — here we leave our dead, and our 

 last thoughts of them will always be associated 

 with this place. The seasons may come and go, 

 but in this spot made sacred by hallowed recol- 

 lections, will be perennial spring. Here too, in 

 after days, we will love to sit and call up memo- 

 ries, sad, but full of holy joy, and hold sweet 

 communion with those who have been trans- 

 planted to the great garden above. 



RHODE ISLAND BENT GRASS. 



BY DR. WM. F. CHANNING, PROVIDENCE, R, 1. 



In a note to the editor, which strayed into 

 print, in the Gardener's Monthly iov October, 1875, 

 I spoke of Rhode Island Bent Grass, pure and 

 simple, as the best Lawn Grass, in the estimation 

 of many persons living where it is supposed to 

 have Originated, and where alone it is extensively 

 cultivated. 



There had been a previous lament in the 

 Monthly over many of our Lawn Grasses destroyed 

 by the intense cold of the preceding winter. 

 The Rhode Island Bent had stood this extreme 

 test without injury. 



I have since received numerous letters enquir- 

 ing where the seed of this grass can be obtained ; 

 and the Country Gentleman has asked : " What 

 is Rhode Island Bent ? and in answer to its own 

 question has conjectured that it is probably 

 Agrostis vulgaris — the Red-top of New England 

 and New York, and the Herd's Grass of the 

 Southern States. 



