The daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1848-1851, 1849-05-19
oversow of the Cemeteries,


The water comes on, and covers the houses of
the dead as well those of the living Like Time,
in its ravages, the river makes no distinctions.
The Mississippi has superstition, does it feel
the sanctity of the grave. But the dead move not
at the rising of the mighty flood. They sleep as
quietly as ifthe murmuring waters were not around
them and the ripple of the waves, as stirred by the
breeze seems like the nurses lullaby to make the
slumber of earth's children more profound and
dreamless. The wide expanse of waters around
the graves of the departed, images the eternity
which the dead are gone, and we feel more the
desoation of the grave as We view the tombs sur
rounded by the barren waters. The green turf and
the budding flowers, which grow over the graves of
those we love, soften sadness, and remind us of
the re-awakening that awaits them in the future.
But the waters are dead, and have no life upon
their surface. The animated beings which infabit
them, are not so congenial with our sorrow as the
soft leaves and gentle haf-retiring buds of vegeta
bic life. The fish sIay and are slain war and
strife and destruction fill the annals Of the deed.
But the flowers never fight; the vioets never quar-
rel /; the evergreens never devour one another.
The plants live and love and die ; but the stern
passions, which seem vain when we stand amidst
the graves of those who have engaged fiercely in
struggles VI WOTIu, never dgltdIc Inc lives
ofthe vegetables. Quietly and tendery the creepers
climb over the Wondering tombstone !; but they
never interrupt the rest of the departed, by angry
contention and bitter strife.
The invading water, while it brings into the
buryng- grounds the animals that prey upon and
devour one another, chokes also the life of the
lowly plants that gather about the habitations of
the dead. The nowerets can get no air when the
river flows over them; and like the gentle maiden
over whose grave mayhap they dwell, they wither
and softly sigh away the life that but little while
ago seemed so bright and beautiful. A few days
since and the stems Were full of vigor, the leaves
were glossy, and gloried in the sunshine; the
petals tints We'd with the ranbow's hues, and
smiled at the painters efforts to copy them. Now
the cold flood has washed over them, and the gem
tie Ophelias of the flower world are drowned in the
muddy waters.
The living fly from the flood, but the dead stir
not from their graves. The water soaks their cere-
ments, but dsiurbs not their Sleep And so it is
with that portion of the departed which is still left
to the living. The characters and regulations of
those who have filled the worlds history with their
deeds and their thoughts, little affected by the
chances and changes that may in future happen to
the race. As the tree falls, even it lies" No
revolution in government or society can now
modify, to any extent the reputation of him who,
little while ago, made all Europe tremble at his
nod. lie sleeps soundy in the tomb at the Inva-
lides, though the turbulent Assembly convuses all
France by its discussions, within few yards of
his resting place. and though the son of his brother
and the grandson of his Josephine may be imper-
ling power and life by pursuing false and danger
GUS policy. The cannons of Cavaignac and the
groans of $1,000 butchered Parisians, could not
make the exiled Emperor move from his bed
beneath the dome of the Invalides. The deeds and
motives of Napoleon now unchanged, whether
Lamartine or Louis Philippe, Cavaignac or Louis
Napoleon, be in the ascendant. As was his char
acter when he breathed his last amid the storm of
st. Helena, will it be on the final day when all
shall be called on give an account of the deeds
done in the body. As we die, so shall we be when
we rise again. If we live well and nobly now, we |
shall leave good name behind us, and not be |
ashamed to stand before the Judge of the Universe,
when summoned to appear in his presence if |
oasely and ignobly, not all great Neptunes flood |
,an wash the stain from out our souls, but rather
would our sins G. the multitudinous sea inearnadne,
making the green one red -