NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



PUBLISHED BY GEO. C. BARRETT, NO. 5% NORTH MARKET STREET, (at the Agricultural Warehouse.)— T. G. FESSENDEN, EDITOR. 



vol. xir. 



BOSTON, WEDNESDAY EVENING, MARCH 5, 1834. 



NO. 34. 



AN ADDRESS 



BEFORE THE MASSACHUSETTS HORTICUL- 

 TURAL. SOCIETY ; 



At their Fifth Annual Festival, September 18, 1833, 



BY ALEXANDER H. EVERETT. 



PUBLLSHKH BY REQUEST OK THE SOCIETY. 



(Concluded from p. 25S.) 



III. The grounds and gardens t to which I have 

 Blinded, have been laid out chiefly fur tin- private 

 recreation of their owners; lint the art of Horti- 

 culture is applied to higher and more interesting 

 objects. At Athens, til e public gardens were em- 

 ployed by the principal philosojfcers, as schools, or 

 places of instruction. One of tnem, called Acatle- 

 mus, or, as it is modernized in English, thfjjjcade- 

 my, was frequented by Plato ; and in cnu3cwcucc 

 of the grew celebrity and influence whirVhavc 

 since been acquired by the doctrines orjXnallv 

 taught there, has given its name to a great variety 

 of literary and scientific institutions. The original 

 Academy was nothing more than a public garden, 

 laid out by the distinguished Athenian General, 

 Cynion, and planted chiefly with oiive-trees, of 

 which there are many still growing on the snot. 

 The place was situated without the walls of Athens, 

 and near the spot appropriated to the sepulchres 

 of distinguished men. At the entrance was an 

 altar, dedicated to Love, and within were altars to 

 Minerva and the Muses. The tomb of Plato was 

 in the immediate neighborhood. The Lyceum 

 was another Athenian garden of the same descrip- 

 tion, which was celebrated as the school of Aris- 

 totle, and, like the Academy, has given Sts nunc, 

 in modern times, to innumerable institutions for 

 education and improvement. 



The art of embellishing grounds and gardens, 

 has, also, been occasionally applied, both in an- 

 cient and modern times, to the still more solemn 

 and interesting purpose of preparing repositories 

 for the remains of the dead. The cemeteries of 

 the Eastern nations are commonly situated with- 

 out the walls of their cities, tastefully planted with 

 trees, and frequented as public, walks. The ceme- 

 tery of Pere la Chaise at Paris is of the same de- 

 scription ; and there is a beautiful one, of a similar 

 kind, though on a smaller scale, at New-Haven, in 

 Connecticut. It is much to be desired, that re- 

 positories of this description may hie multiplied 

 among us. While they tend to promote the salu- 

 brity of cities, they connect agreeable images with 

 the recollections of the past, and the anticipations 

 of the future ; and strip the idea of death of a part 

 of the horrors, with which superstition and the 

 weakness of our nature, have unnecessarily invest- 

 ed it. 



In connection with this branch of the subject, I 

 would venture, to remark, that it has often occurred 

 to me as a desirable thing, that some public funeral 

 ground of this description should be consecrated 

 to the memory of the patriots and heroes of the 

 Revolution. The spot most suitable for this pur- 

 pose would be Mount Ver.non, a territory well 

 adapted to it by its central situation in the Union, 

 its vicinity to the Seat of Government, its natural 

 'picturesque beauties, and its noble position upon 

 banks of one of the finest rivers in the world ; 



tie 



but especially fitted for the object above all other 

 grounds, from having been the residence of Wash- 



ington. It seems to be a sort of profanation, that 

 the dwelling, which was rendered sacred to the 

 view of the American people by having been the 

 scene of his earthly pilgrimage, should be after- 

 wards devoted to the ordinary purposes of life ; 

 ami without intending any reflection upon the eon- 

 duct of the present occupant, whose leisure and 

 privacy are as sacred as those of any other indi- 

 vidual, it is certainly a painful thing, that the peo- 

 ple should not be permitted, at all times and sea- 

 sons, to pay their vows in perfect freedom at the 

 tomb of their political father. It is evident, that 

 they can net%r enjoy this advantage in its full ex- 

 lent, while the place is held as individual properly. 

 Some restrictions must be imposed upon the free- 

 dom of access; and the disagreeable scenes, which, 

 from time to lime, will necessarily occur, in con- 

 sequence of this, without furnishing a proper occa- 

 sion for censure upon any one, should, if possible, 

 lie avoided in regard to all matters connected in 

 any way with the' memory of the great genius of 

 the spot. 



It is, therefore, desirable, on every account, that 

 .Mount Vernon should be purchased by the people, 

 and held as a national property. The sacrifice, 

 that would be necessary in order to acquire it, is 

 too trifling to be mentioned ; and although the 

 family of Washington must, of course, set a high 

 value on his patrimonial domain, they woidd natu- 

 rally be proud and happy to cede it for the honor- 

 able purpose of being consecrated as a perpetual 

 monumental ground to the memory of the Revolu- 

 tionary fathers of the country. The house and 

 grounds should be kept in perfect order, and, as 

 nearly as possible, in the condition in which they 

 were left by Washington. On some elevated spot 

 should be erected an equestrian statue of the hero, 

 that might catch from a distance the view of citi- 

 zens as they ascended the river to visit the place, 

 and might serve as an indication to them that they 

 had reached the end of their joufne}'. This im- 

 posing figure, towering majestically above the 

 dumps of trees that adorn the grounds, would form 

 a noble object as seen from a distance. Every ship 

 that passed, would strike her top-sails in honor of 

 it, as the mariners of Athens, when they entered 

 the Piraeus on their return voyages', were accus- 

 tomed to salute the tomb of Tliemistocles, which 

 stood at the bottom of that harbor. 



Within the house might be placed the portraits 

 of the great proprietor and of his associates in 

 civil and military life. In the principal hall should 

 stand his own by Stuart, with that of his aid and 

 confidential friend General Hamilton on one side, 

 and on the other, that of Lafayette by Schefl'er, 

 which now hangs in the Rotunda of the Capitol. 

 After these would naturally foilovv those of Lee, 

 Gates, Morgan, Sumpter, and the others. Warren, 

 the young martyr of Bunker-Hill, should hold a 

 conspicuous place, and the hero of Bennington 

 should not be omitted. Another principal room 

 should be devoted to the commemoration of those 

 who served the country in civil life. At the head 

 of these, should be stationed Franklin, John Adams, 

 and Jefferson, with the members of the Continental 

 Congress grouped around them. In tLeir com- 

 pany should appear the others, whose services 

 were most conspicuous in the earlier scenes that 



preceded the decisive action. There should be 

 seen the open face and manly person of Samuel 

 Adams, as represented by Copley. By the side of 

 this, our more than Cato, might stand Patrick 

 Henry, our untaught Demosthenes, John Dickin- 

 son, the lettered farmer, and Otis, — a name en- 

 deared to the citizens of Boston by the patriotic 

 virtues and charming eloquence of more than one 

 generation. In another of the rooms should be 

 collected the younger generation who were asso- 

 ciated with Washington in completing the work of 

 the Revolution, by reforming the government and 

 introducing the present Federal constitution. Here 

 should be another portrait of Washington in a civil 

 dress as President, and another of Hamilton on 

 account of his signal services on that occasion. 

 Madison and Jay should accompany the latter on 

 either side; and after them should come the active 

 friends and supporters of the constitution through- 

 out the country ; — the cloudy care-worn counte- 

 nance of Parsons, the radiant visage of Ames, and 

 the fine manly features of Rufus King. With this 

 group the list should close, for it would scarcely 

 be expedient to make Mount Vernon a Westmin- 

 ster Abbey, or general mausoleum of the illus- 

 trious dead, but rather to devote it specifically to 

 the honor of the revolutionary worthies and the 

 founders of the government. The merit of these, 

 as respects the country, will always remain of a 

 singular kind, whatever titles of honor may here- 

 after be won by others. In some more private 

 apartment should be collected the portraits oi the 

 family of Washington. This interesting collection 

 would . .! .nee furnish the house in a manner suit- 

 able to its destination, and concur in promoting 

 the general object. The national flag should be 

 displayed above the building, to mark it as public 

 property, and the estate might, for purposes of 

 jurisdiction, be considered as an appendage to the 

 District of Columbia. 



The access to Mount Vernon, under this arrange- 

 ment, should be perfectly free to every one, at all 

 times and seasons, — effectual measures having been 

 taken to prevent disorder and injury to the proper- 

 ty. Under these circumstances, the resort to the 

 place would probably be much greater than it had 

 ever been before; and it would gradually come to 

 be regarded as a sort of sacred ground, like the 

 plains of Elis in ancient Greece, where the Olym- 

 pic games were celebrated at the end of every four 

 years. Mount Vernon, too, might, perhaps, be 

 made the theatre of public rejoicings on the anni- 

 versary of our great national festival. The citizens 

 of the neighborhood would naturally meet there 

 upon that occasion ; and, in proportion as the im- 

 portance of the day shall be more and more felt, 

 and the respect for the memory of our political 

 fathers shall go on increasing, as it will, from year 

 year, many persons, from all parts of the country, 

 would naturally avail themselves of that opportu- 

 nity to visit the abode and burial-place of their il- 

 lustrious leader. The festivities might, probably, 

 be continued for several days, and might be accom- 

 panied by devotional and literary exercises, poems, 

 plays, and other entertainments of all descriptions. 

 The whole drama of the Greeks grew out of an 

 annual religious festival, lasting four or five days 

 in succession, — during which, tragedies and come- 



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