Los Angeles herald., 1909-06-06

~ ascended the small staircase that conducts
to it, to take from thence general survey OF
the wilderness of tOmbs The shrine is elevated upon
kind of platform and close around it are the sepu
chres of various kings and queens. From this eml,
nence the eve looks down between pillars and funeral
trophies to the chapes and chambers below crowded
with tOmbs, where warriors, preates, courters ana
statesmen lie moudering in their beds OF darkness
Close by stood the great chair of coronation, rude
y carved of oak, in the barbarous taste of remote
and Gothic age. The scene semed almost as II con
trived with theatrical artce, to produce an effect
upon the behoder. Here type of the beginning
and the end of human pOmp and power; here 1t was
literally but a step from the throne to the sepulchre
Would not think that these ncongruous mementoes
had been gathered together lesson to living great
ito show it, in the moment OF its proudest
exaltation the neglect and dshonor to which it must
soon arrive how soon that crown which enclrces Its
brow must pass away and it must lie down in the dust
and disgraces of the tomb and be tramped upon by
the foot of the meanest of the multitude.
The last beams of day were now family streaming
through the painted windows in the high vaults above
me- the lower parts of the abbey already wrapped
in the obscurity of twilight. The chapels and alses
grew darker and darker. The efigies of the kings
faded into shadows; the marble figures of the monu-
ments assumed strange shapes in the uncertain light;
the evening breeze crept through the aises like the
cold breath of the grave, and even the distant foot
fall of verger, traversing the Poets Corner, had
something strange and dreary in its sound | slowly
retraced my morning s walk and as | passed out at
the portals of the closters the door, closing with
arring noise behind me, filled the whole building with
echoes.
I endeavored to form arrangement in my mind
of the objects 1 had been contemplating, but found
they already fallen into ndistnctness i'll my
recollection though had scarcely taken my foot from
off the threshold What thought l, is this vast as
sembage of sepulchres but treasury of humiliation
a huge pile of reiterated homes on the emptiness of
renown and the certainty of obvion9 1t is, indeed,
the empire of DEATH his great shadow palace where
he sits in state mocking at the relics of human glory
and spreading dust and forgetfuness on the monu-
ments of princes How idle boast, after ALL is the
Immortality of a name Time is poring silently
over his pages; we too much engrossed by the
story of the present to think of the characters and
anecdotes that gave interest to the past and each age
is a volume thrown aside to be speedily forgotten
The idol of to-day pushes the hero OF yesterday out
of our recollection, and WILL in turn, be supplaned
by his successor tomorrow. 'tOur fathers says Sir
Thomas Browne, find their graves in our short mem
ories, and sadly tell how may be buried IN our
survivors, History fades into fable; fact becomes
couded with doubt and controversy, the inscription
molders from the tablet; the statue falls from the
pedestal Columns arches, pyramids what are they
but heaps of sand with their eptaph but characters
written in the dus9 What is the security of tomb