Camping among the Tombs 
as taught in woods and meadows, plains and 
mountains and streams of our blessed star, and 
they will learn that death is stingless indeed, 
and as beautiful as life, and that the grave has 
no victory, for it never fights. All is divine 
harmony. 
Most of the few graves of Bonaventure are 
planted with flowers. There is generally a mag- 
nolia at the head, near the strictly erect marble, 
a rose-bush or two at the foot, and some violets 
and showy exotics along the sides or on the 
tops. All is enclosed by a black iron railing, 
composed of rigid bars that might have been 
spears or bludgeons from a battlefield in Pan- 
demonium. 
It is interesting to observe how assiduously 
Nature seeks to remedy these labored art blun- 
ders. She corrodes the iron and marble, and 
gradually levels the hill which is always heaped 
up, as if a sufficiently heavy quantity of clods 
could not be laid on the dead. Arching grasses 
come one by one; seeds come flying on downy 
wings, silent as fate, to give life’s dearest beauty 
[71] 
