Cooper's Clarksburg register. [volume] (Clarksburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1851-1861, 1854-12-27
RoR THE DEAD.
By WASHINGTON IRVING.

The sorrow forthedead is the only sor
:: row from which we refuse to be divorced
1 Every. otherlwound we seek to heal-ey
cry other affliction, to forget; but thi
llwound We cousiderAit a duty to keep opel
this af1icion We cherish and brood owe
! in solitude. Where is the mother wht
would willingly forget the infant that per
lished, like blossom, from her arms
though every recollection is a pang p
Where is thekchild that would willingly
forget the most tender of parents, though
to remena5er.be but to lament? Who, even
in the hour of agony, would forget the
friend over whom he mourns? Who,
sfeven when che tomb is closing upon the
remains of her he most Loved; when he
feels his heart, as it were, crushed in the
closing of its portals, would accept of con-
ISOLATION that must be bought by .toEg!yui-
ness2' No the love which survives the
tomb, is one ofthe noblest attributes of the
soul. as.a sa f1 a-e
| If it has its aCoeS, it has likewise its de-
lights; and when the overwhelming burst
I Of grief is GAINED into the gentle tear Of
recolIection-wh the sudden anguish
and The ,convulsive agony over the present.
l.
ed away. into Pensive meditation on all
that it was in the days of its loveliness-
who would root out such a sorrow from
the heart ? Though it may some times
throw passing cloud over the bright hour
of gaiety; or spread a deeper sadness over
the hour of gloom; yet, who would ex-
change it, even for the song of pleasure,
6f thfe burst of revelry? No! there is a
voice from he. tomb Sa0eeter than song
There is a menfUfianceso of the dead ito
which we turn even from, the charms,.oE
the living. Oh the grave the grave !!
it buries every errof-covers every de-
fect-eNtinguishes every resentment =
From its peaceful bosom spring none but
fond regrets aud tender rccOllections.-
Who can look down upon the grave, even
of an enemy and not feel compuncLious
throb, that he should ever have warred
with the poor handful Of earth that lies
mouldering before him ?
Butt the grave Of those we loved-wh3i
place for meditation There it is that
we call up in long review, the whole his,
tory of virtue and gentleness, and the
thousand endearments laVished upon u.s..
almost UNDECIDED, in the daily intercourse
of intimacy-there it is that we dwell up
on the tenderness, the solemn, awful ten
derness, of the parting scene. The bed
Of death, with all its stiHed griefs-its
noiseless .attendants-its mute, watchful
assiduities. The last testimonies Of eXpi-
ring love. The feeble, futtering, thrilling
oh how thrilling pressure Of the
hand The last fond look Of the glazing
eye, turning upon us even from The thresh
old of existence. The faint, faltering ac
cents, struggling in death to give one
more assurance of affection.
Aye! GO to the grave of buried love,
and mediate There settle the account
with thy conscience for every past benefit
nrequited--every past endearment un-
egarded-of thatdeparted being who can
never, never, never return to be soothed
by thy contriuion II thou art a child,
aud hast added a sorrow TO the soul, or a
| furrow to the silvered brow, Of an atfec-
tionate parent; ifthou art husband, and
hast ever caused the fond bosom that ven
tured its whole happiness in thy arms, to
doubt one moment Of thy kindness or thy
truth; if thou art friend, and hast ever
wronged, in thought, or word, or deed,
the spirit that generously confled in thee;
if thou art a lover, and hast ever given
one unmerited pang to that true heart
that now lies cold and still beneath thy
feet; then be sure, that every unkind look,
every ungracious word, every ungentle
action. will come tmonging back upon thy
memory, knocking dolefully at thy soul
then be sure, that thou wilt lie down sor-
rowing and rcpentant upon the grave, and
utter the unheard groan, and pour tue un
aYailing tear, more deep, more bitter, be-
cause-unheard and unavailing.
Then weave thy chaPIet of flowers, and
strew the beauties of nature about the
grave; console thy broken spirit, il thou
canst, with these tender, yet futile, tri-
butes of regret; but take warning by the
bitterness of this thy contrite affilcLion
over the dead, and henceforth be more
faithful and affectionate in the discharge
ofthy duties tothe living. zaI a'
MUrToS RATHER THAN BEBF.-We sin
cerely wish that the American people