THE MODERN CEMETERY. 
THE MODERN CEMETERY. 
IN iLinsmio wimv joninii omiEi ii ine inienesi oe eiemetebies 
334. Ot'arbO 'H Stroei, CHICAGO 
Subscription $1.00 a Year in Advance. Foreign Subscription |i. 25. 
Special Rates on Six or More Copies. 
VoL. IV. CHICAGO, APRIL, 1894. No. 2. 
CONTENTS. 
BURIAL REFORM i3 
"CEMETERY PLANTING, III 15 
ELECTRIC FUNERAL CARS 16 
INJURY TO TREES 17 
"THE SHAW MAUSOLEUM, ST. LOUIS, MO lii 
THE LILY POND 20 
CEMETERY NOTES 20 
’ENTRANCE TO THE MONTEFIORE BURIAL ASSOCIA- 
TION GROUNDS, MINNEAPOLIS 21 
RULES AND REGULATIONS -CEMETERY REPORTS 22 
CREMATION 23 
ASSOCIATION OF AMERICAN CEMETERY SUPERINTEN- 
DENTS 24 
PUBLISHER'S DEPARTMENT 24 
’‘Illustrated. 
Burial Reform. 
The Rev. Jeakin Lloyd Jones, of Chicago, re- 
cently preached a sermon on “The Selfishness of 
Grief,” in which he discussed the several features of 
mourning and prevailing funeral customs in a man- 
ner we believe at once instructive to his hearers and 
worthy of pointed consideration, and we give the 
following extended extracts: 
“Pain always breaks or makes the will. Grief 
will sweeten or sour the life. Sorrow makes one 
life somber and sullen, selfish and sordid; it makes 
another gentle and tender, helpful and holy. All 
depends upon the spirit in which we accept the bit- 
ter fruit. Our griefs may fertilize our lives and 
cause them to bear more abundantly the holy fruit 
of the spirit, or they may blight whatever they 
touch, depressing whomsoever we approach. The 
pleasures of life are accepted by most people as a 
trust; their administration is a matter of thought, 
and a misuse of the same brings prompt reproach, 
merited rebuke, wise counsel. We must not be 
selfish in our pleasures. But grief also is a respon- 
sibility. Why should we abandon ourselves to its 
sway without thought and without conscience? It 
is not easy to speak plain words of advice or re- 
buke when the heart is torn, but surely they are un- 
worthy tears that blind the eyes to duty. 
It is not a gracious task to speak of the faults 
born out of the tenderest and profoundest experi- 
ences of the soul, but there is need of plain speech 
here. Let me with love and all tender considera- 
tion try to speak plainly of these matters. This life 
is sad enough at best. Pain, weakness, separation 
and death are our inevitable attendants, ever near 
and ever ready to visit us with fresh surprises. 
Shall we maximize or minimize them? Shall we 
convert them into inward peace, moral earnestness 
and spiritual trust, or shall we allow them to over- 
lay us, cripple our powers, limit our influence and 
pervert our natures until we become a burden to 
the society which we ought to serve? Let us then 
frankly confess that selfishness is unseemly by the 
coffin as it is by the festal board. Self-control is 
as necessary and admirable by the one as by the 
other. There is need of consideration in the sick 
room as on the play-ground. Death, mysterious 
visitant with a shrouded face and chilling hand, is ev- 
er an unwelcome friend, at best, a sorrow bringer; 
but we, the living, are not on that account released 
from the exactions of prudence, economy, cheerful- 
ness and service. Death may leave us sad, but it 
should not make us mean. Death will make us 
sorrowful, but let it not make us selfish. 
There is nothing more archaic in modern life 
than our attitude toward death and the customs 
that cluster about it. We are all slaves in that re- 
spect, of customs and fashions rooted in past error 
and false premises. There is nothing more barbar- 
ic surviving in our life to-day than a conventional 
funeral. The more proper it is, the more offensive 
it is to delicate sensibilities and common sense. Let 
me particularize. 
Why should we, when the inevitable comes, 
yield to such wild rebellious grief as is so often wit- 
nessed? Let us in life prepare not only for our own 
death but for the death of those near and dear to 
us. Who is to go first we know not, but let all arm 
themselves beforehand with that holy fortitude 
that will enable the survivers to accept unhesitat- 
ingly the unfinished task and to bend willingly the 
shoulder to the added burden. Why should the 
last memories of the forms of our dear ones be so 
clouded with artificial gloom, with the grim crape 
at the door, the lowered curtains, the darkened 
house? Let the calm be illuminated with all the 
sunlight available. Let the quiet be sanctified by 
