Year: 1859


A funeral train is slowly vending its way
along the road leading to the Cemetery. =
4


The solemn tolling of bells announces that
the procession is entering the gates, and an:
other new inhabitant is about to be added to
the roll of " The City Of the Silent" {,


Here and there, q solitary mourner-some;
times group, may be seen, weeping over o
freshly raised mound, or planting flower Of
its foot, while the brief tablet near by, with
its simple but exp ssive inscription" Our
Father" "Our Mo her," "Our Babe" and
so on, through all the sweet and tender rela-
tions Of life, tells the cause of their tears, and
the object of these delicate memorials to the
departed.
And now, the newcomers are gathered
around an open grave, the accustomed rites
have been performed, and the body is about
to be " committed to the ground, earth to
earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust" Those
who were nearest and dearest to the beloved
one are bending over to take their last look
upon him on earth. Their young bosoms
have been made to feel the deepest pang Of
existence. Their dreams Of hope have been
blighted by Affections heaviest frowns. The
world seems to them dark and barren waste.
They think now, in their loneliness, as they
recall the sweet associations connected with
this youthful object Of their cares and alice
tions, that there cannot be in this WIDE globe
a solitary spot where balm OF consolation
can be found for their wounded spirits. Oh
who among the saddened spectators does not
long to whisper word of sympathy and
kindness to those bereaved hearts ..*.,55fst


At length the last clodAhas been trnyl
upon the mound that covers all that remains
of Orr Little Sidney"


Each mourner now steps forward, and amid
the deep silence that pervades the group, ten
derly places wreath or a flower upon the
breast of the gentle sleeper.


Gould anything be more touching-more
impressive2


The calm stiffness that reigns around-the
singing of the birds-thsrippling Of the wa
tiers, are all types Of the tranquil rest upon
which the loved one has entered-the music
of the harps of the angels who are welcom-
ing their guests to their blessed abodes-the
fountains of joy and happiness which are in
store for him, when He who "took the little
children in his arms and blessed them" calls
him to receive His blessing also.


These floral emblems on his grave, now so
fresh and fragrant, will PERISH but the wreath
which "the children's friend" shall place
around this infants brow, will be never
fading.


Here is the healing balm which earth can
not afford. Bleeding hearts will look in vain
for it to any transitory source. When the
idols of our bosoms are thus torn from us,
this world would, indeed, be "a barren waste,
were such solace as this denied US.


GA higher power than earth knows best
what is good for US, if we would only try to
realize it." These words came from the lips
of one of the mourners at this solemn scene.
May the same happy thought bring consola'
ton to them all.


X 4


aThe little boy that died" is now beyond
the reach of " the insatiate archer" He has
escaped the storms and the tempests of life.
His was but brief visit to earth, the limit
to which has quickly expired.


"He took the cup Of Life to sip


But bitter twas to drain


Then meekly put it from his lips,


And to sleep again :" CLAUDE.