There is one particular region which I will mention as like to be specially benefited by the plan referred to,—a region which would get the advantages of the fresh air coming over the wide estuary of Charles River without the expense and trouble of taking boats. The narrow and crowded streets of the northern slope of Beacon Hill, and a wide region extending northward from it, are inhabited by the very class most exposed to cholera-infantum and diseases of that nature. Having lived for many years in Charles Street, where I am no longer an owner, I had occasion to learn the incomparable comfort and delight to be got in a hot summer's day, when the wind is from the southwest, by turning the corner of Charles and Cambridge Streets, and getting into the current of air cooled by passing over the water. Some of the poor mothers with sick children had found out where to bring them for relief; and I often thought, if there were an open green filling up that corner, with shade trees and seats, what a priceless sanatorium it would be to all that suffering quarter of the city! The proposed green margin, beginning at Leverett Street, and extending along the river, will meet this very want; and this is only one locality of many which will thus turn its natural advantages to account.
I have preferred to insist on a single point rather than to expatiate on a larger number. But I trust that the eloquence of others will enforce and illustrate the innumerable advantages our city will derive from the only chain she would submit to,—a chain of pleasure-grounds all around her. The Bostonian has looked up at the gilded dome of the State House, and down at the reflection of his own features in the Frog Pond, long enough. Our city has always been a centre; and it must not act as if it considered itself a mere feeder. We must provide ourselves with the complete equipment, not of a village community, not of a thriving town, but of a true metropolis, large enough for a citizen of the world to live in without feeling himself provincialized, and not too large for one honest mayor like our own to handle. The marrow-bones of the past are pretty well cleared out, or will be before the Centennial year is over, and we must not be content to live on them for another century. The Old Elm got enough of it,—grew discontented, and started on its travels for wider quarters, but, unfortunately, stumbled and fell. Let us take the hint, and plant a thousand acres with young elms and all other trees of the forest, where the hillsides are not already clad in foliage; so that the children of coming generations may bless our memory, not only for all the happiness they have had in their shadow, but for saving more lives to the country than were lost in any one of the battles which scarred and crippled their fathers. [Applause.]
The President. Gentlemen, you have been addressed by two of the learned professions. It follows, as a matter of course, that you will now be addressed by one from the third, the most important and most respected of all. I am happy to introduce to you the Rev. Dr. Neale, the oldest settled pastor of the city of Boston. [Applause.]
SPEECH OF THE REV. ROLLIN H. NEALE, D.D.
I do not intend, my friends, to trespass much upon your time, and certainly shall not presume to give any new information on the subject which has been presented. Owing, probably, to my long residence here, it has been thought, I suppose, that my testimony, in these days of calling for witnesses, may be of some importance. Of the financial bearings of this proposed enterprise, of course I cannot judge. These are to be considered and acted upon by men on whom the public responsibility rests, who will, doubtless, act considerately and wisely; but the desirableness of the thing itself is unquestionable. I have had opportunity, with some gentlemen here present, of wandering of a summer's day through the beautiful and extensive parks of Europe and of this country, and know how welcome and refreshing they are to the weary traveller. "Boston Common," of course, we praise everywhere; and when abroad, and thinking of dear home, say there is nothing like it the world over.
It is a good feature in the character of Bostonians to love their own city. There is something delightful in its old buildings, and even its crooked streets. We forget political and even religious differences in view of ancient landmarks. We cling to the Old South, and would gladly have kept Brattle Square with its cannon-ball, whatever might have been thought of its theology. We cherish the memory of our fathers, and wish to keep among us, as far as possible, signs of the good old days. This is right and noble; but equally right, and quite as unselfish, is it to think of those who shall come after us. Horace Bushnell was a scholar, and wrote many elaborate works on metaphysics and divinity; but the Bushnell Park of Hartford will probably be that for which coming generations will thank him most. Certainly it will keep his memory fragrant and green forever.
Our good city is justly famous for its hospitals and physicians, as well as its churches and clergymen. I hope the contemplated parks may not supersede the sanctuary and the sermon, though, as they say, there are "sermons in stones, and good in every thing." But certain it is, that a ramble through green fields at any time, and along sparkling streams, is better than a sick-bed, or the apothecary's drugs and doses.
We are all of us, I suppose, more or less subject to the blues, business-men, clergymen, and even politicians. In such cases, it is of no use to shut one's self up in the house, and brood over trouble. The best remedy is a walk, a good long stretch into the country, fresh air, a hearty laugh with some friend; or an exhilarating ride, Brother Murray would say, probably, behind a "perfect horse." And these are some of the blessings it is proposed to secure for us. The very season now here speaks impressively for this enterprise. The glories of a June day, how they make us yearn for rural scenes! Nature everywhere is beckoning. "The mountains and the hills break forth before us into singing, and all the trees of the field clap their hands."
The President. We have listened with much satisfaction and enjoyment to the address of one of the clergymen of the city of Boston: but all denominations of the Christian Church are included in this call; and I am now happy to introduce to you the Rev. Mr. Bodfish, Rector of the Catholic Cathedral of the Holy Cross of the city of Boston. [Applause.]