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 shape. 



Let us now turn to examine the cemetery we have been recommend- 

 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, and 

 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 such a people. To know that 

 we are about going away from the world, to be soon forgotten ; — that 

 the rank grass will soon grow up, and intermingle with thorns over 

 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, 

 — this 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 tri- 

 umph, " O death where is thy sting ? O grave where is thy victory ?'* 



Vol. XVIL— No. 2. 



