Architecture in the United States. 273 
has not an unamiable appearance. Poplars have been used some- 
times in cemeteries, but are going out of fashion, and I am glad to 
see it so: there are few places they can adorn, and a burying ground 
is not one of them: their roots are tender, but the sexton’s axe or 
saw will soon make that matter equal in all trees, and the additional 
expense to each individual will be but trifling. Spreading, but deli- 
cate trees should always be preferred: the elm is too robust: the 
weeping willow is probably the best of all; but it should he inter- 
mingled with others of the like delicacy of ste, 
Let us now turn to examine the cemetery we have been etiidiiing 
ing. We pass to the edge of the city, retiring from its noise, and 
tumults, and cares : we find suddenly before us a neat little spot with 
a plain but tasteful enclosure. It is well shaded with handsome and 
delicate trees. We enter and find ourselves among the dead. The 
monuments are simple, and suited to the sedate and quiet character 
of the place. Here are those who once walked arm in arm, an 
shared the confidence and reciprocated the affection of the multitudes 
from whom we have just parted, and we find from the words of warm 
affection and of hope on the tombs, from the clean velvet sod around, 
from the well trimmed willow that throws its sober shade over the 
spot, and from the marks of frequent visits, that they are not forgotten. 
Here too, the living shall soon come to their last, long rest; and they 
know that their children and friends will then shew their memory 
the same honorable and virtuous affection. There must be a holy 
cheerfulness about the death-bed of sucha people. To aise 
we are about going away from the world, to be soon forgotten :—t 
the rank grass will soon grow up, and intermingle with thorns « cover 
our grave; that the little mound itself will probably soon be oblitera~ 
ted :—that no one will come near to think of us or speak our name, 
—ihis is to add bitterness to bitter death. But here the dead and 
the living seem still to hold kind intercourse. The former, from their 
low abode, seem to utter words of friendly admonition, warning, or 
encouragement. The latter shew that affection in them is stronger 
. than death: they here make themselves familiar with his form and 
character: the world looses its strong hold ; virtue is strengthened ; 
religion comes in her majesty and beauty, ‘and they exclaim in oe 
umph, “© death where is thy sting? O grave where is thy victory 
Vou. XVII.—No. 2. 8 
