THE MODERN CEMETERY. 
8i 
The triangles at the intersection of the walks are 
to be reserved for planting or other public purposes. 
The space shown in the plan as occupied by the 
pond is a natural hollow, well adapted to the pur- 
pose. New portions of the cemetery are to be graded 
as a whole with a view to giving a park-like appear- 
ance and the lots are to conform to the general 
grade. 
The eastern part of the property is heavily 
wooded and the border and vicinity of the pond 
are to be planted with ornamental trees and shrubs. 
The receiving tomb is located near the entrance 
and where it will be convenient to approach during 
the winter months. 
The plan has been designed so that any portion 
can be constructed complete in itself and at the 
same time working toward the completion of the 
whole cemetery. 
Boston, Mass. FRANKLIN Brett. 
Architectural Foliage. 
To many persons, in their cursory notice of 
architectural foliage, stray instances of an underly- 
ing meaning must occasionally have presented 
themselves. The Egyptian had used the lotus lily 
to bear the beams of his temple, binding the stalks 
together for the model of his pillar, and forming its 
capital after the flower, says the Contemporary Rc- 
viezu, probably with definite symbolic intent, for a 
water lily scarcely suggests itself as suitable for 
forming a column ; we know, however, that that 
plant was a sacred emblem to him, constantly 
placed in the hands of his divinities, and interwoven 
with traditions of Horns and the sun, and knowing 
this its use becomes reasonable and interestinrf 
Although the Greek acanthus would seem to 
have no such fact to support it, yet the legend of 
its origin bears something of the same spirit. The 
architect Callimachus is said to have gone to visit 
the grave of his daughter, upon whose tomb he had 
previously placed a basket of flowers. The brank- 
ursine meanwhile had sprung up about the tile upon 
which the basket stood and encircled its fine lattice 
with its luxuriant herbage, and this visit the artist 
immortalized in the Corinthian capital. 
To the Roman mind, however, this local circum- 
stance does not appear to have been of sufficient 
moment for such a position of importance, and in 
their capitals after this order they employed far 
more the olive and laurel and parsley, foliage sacred 
to Minerva, Apollo and Hercules. And in Christian 
architecture the same intention may have prevailed. 
Sir Walter Scott’s mind seems apprehensive of 
something of this kind being the case in the stone- 
work of “St. David’s ruined pile,’’ when speaking 
of the monk’s garden, he says: 
■‘Spreading herbs and flowerets bright. 
Glistened with the dew of night; 
Nor herb, nor floweret glistened there. 
But was carved in the cloister-arches as fair.” 
A Classic Epitaph. 
Soon after the fall of Gen. Albert 'Sidney Johns- 
ton at the battle of Shiloh and the transfer of his 
remains to New Orleans, a lady visiting the ceme- 
tery found pinned to a rough board that rested on 
the temporary tomb the following beautiful epitaph, 
says Memphis Commercial. She made' a verbatim 
copy of the weather-beaten manuscript and sent it 
to one of the New Orleans papers with the request 
that if possible the name of the author should be 
published. The exquisite lines went the rounds of 
the press of this country and England as a model of 
English composition. Lord Palmerston pronounced 
it “a modern classic, Ciceronian in its language.” 
The author.ship was traced to John Dimitry, a 
young native of New Orleans. Young Dimitry, 
though only a boy, served in Johnston’s army at 
Shiloh, and on visiting New Orleans and the grave 
of his dead chieftain wrote the lines on the inspira- 
tion of the moment and modestly pinned them on 
the headboard as the only tribute he could offer. 
When the question arose concerning the form of 
epitaph to be placed on the monument erected to 
the memory of the dead general the committee in 
charge with one voice decided upon this, and it Is 
now inscribed upon a marble tablet near the en- 
trance to the tomb: 
IN MEMORY. 
Beyond this stone is laid, 
F or a season, 
Albert Sidney Johnston, 
A General in the Army of the Confederate States, 
Who fell at Shiloh, Tennessee, 
On the sixth day of April, A. D., 
Eighteen hundred and sixty-two; 
A man tried in many high offices 
And critical enterprises. 
And found faithful in all. 
His life was one long sacrifice of interest to con- 
science; 
And even that life, on a woeful Sabbath, 
Did he yield as a holocaust at his country’s need. 
Not wholly understood was he while he lived; 
But, in his death, his greatness stands confessed 
in a people’s tears — 
Resolute, moderate, clear of envy, yet not wanting 
In that finer ambition which makes men great 
and pure. 
In his honor — impregnable; 
In his simplicity — sublime. 
No country e’er had a truer son— no cause a 
nobler champion; 
No people a bolder defender — no principle a purer 
victim 
Than the dead soldier 
Who sleeps here. 
The cause for which he perished is lost — 
The people for whom he fought are crushed — 
The hopes in which he trusted are shattered — 
The flag he loved guides no more the charging lines. 
But his fame, consigned to the keeping of that 
time, which. 
Happily, is not so much the tomb of virtue as its 
shrine. 
Shall, in the years to come, fire modest worth to 
noble ends. 
In honor, now, our great captain rests; 
A bereaved people mourn him, 
Three commonwealths proudly claim him 
And history shall cherish him 
Among those choicer spirits who, holding their 
conscience unmixed with blame. 
Have been, in all conjectures, true to themselves 
their country and their God. 
