USA > Pennsylvania > Philadelphia County > Philadelphia > Guide to Laurel Hill Cemetery, near Philadelphia, with illustrations > Part 8
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THOUGHTS IN LAUREL HILL CEMETERY. -
BY THE LATE MRS. Z. BARTON STOUT.
CALMLY they rest-their hallowed place of sleeping Bears, on its bosom, no impress of dread ; Life's haunts still echo to the sound of weeping, But peace her wing hath folded o'er the dead.
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Hark through the branches o'er us darkly wreathing, How sweet the winds, in whispered music, flow, Like spirit voices, tremulously breathing
A ceaseless dirge for those who rest below !
Ah, dreamless sleepers ! here are gathered round ye All sights and sounds of beauty and of peace ; Earth's countless ills have lost the power to wound ye, Pride's voice is mute, and passion's promptings cease. The din of outward life hath entrance never Within these precincts holy and serene ;
And here, the inward struggle, hushed for ever, Leaves no memorial that it e'er hath been. .
Here moulders many a form, once fondly shielded By truest love from all impending ill ; But to the grave our treasures have been yielded, And death o'er human hopes hath triumph still. Beauty, that with our fairest visions blended, Manhood's strong heart, and youth's unfaltering trust, Here the stern race of life alike have ended- Earth hath returned to earth, and dust to dust.
And thou, fair child! how fondly fancy lingers On the pale beauty of that sculptured brow ! Calm, as if sleep had come, with gentle fingers, To close the drooping eyelids, even now. Blossom of earth ! thy life, so dearly cherished,
Nor father's prayer, nor mother's love, could save,
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For He, our refuge, when all else hath perished, In love still taketh, what in love He gave.
Oh, Field of God! upon thy verdant bosom Are nature's holiest influences shed ! 1 Even as the dew of heaven to bud and blossom, So to the heart comes sorrow for the dead- Soft, o'er the cold and lonely breast, it stealeth, Fresh flowers upspringing, as the tear-drops fall, And many a hidden fount its touch revealeth, Of purer love and charity to all.
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Through the green vista sec the tranquil river Bathed in the rosy sunset's richest glow ! The sparkling waves lift up their voices ever, And murmur music in their onward flow ! Now o'er the slope the parting radiance gleameth, Tinging its verdure with a hue more bright- Now, broken through the quivering leaves, it streameth, On flower and tomb, a shower of softened light. 1
Fast fades the day-how gloriously, in dying, The sun his royal robes doth round him fold ! Clouds piled on clouds, their gorgeous tints supplying A monarch's pall of purple and of gold ! Evon as we gaze, those heaven-born hues are fading, Brief as the day-dreams hope delights to weave --- And solemn twilight stealeth on, o'ershading, With her dim veil, the calm and starry eve.
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Here, as I linger, nature's voice awaketh
Echoes, long silent in the care-worn breast ; Its weary thrall awhile the soul forsaketh,
And all life's troubled waves are lulled to rest- Scenes of the past, unchecked, are stealing o'er me ; And, through the mist of long-departed years, Forms, that to earth are lost, uprise before me, To claim, once more, the tribute of my tears.
My thoughts spring upward to the pure in spirit, Who, faithful here, the path of duty trod- Earth's nameless saints and martyrs, who inherit, For deeds unprized of men, the peace of God ! O'er their green graves, unmark'd, perchance, and lowly, No costly urn is reared by love or pride- But God forgets not those high hearts and holy, Who meekly suffered, and who nobly died.
O'er sculptured monument and stately column, Now dimly seen, the deepening shadows wave- And, one by one, the stars, serene and solemn, Look forth, unwearied watchers of the grave! Night after night, from yon eternal heaven, Whose blest abodes nor pain nor death may know, The light of those unslumbering orbs is given To the hushed scenes so beautiful below !
Here may the heart, half desolate and broken, Far from the city's pomp its vigil keep,
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And wreathe with fairest flowers affection's token,
The pale, cold marble, where its loved ones sleep : Love's tribute fadeth-even the south wind, sighing Amidst the roses, robs them of their bloom- But love itself, within the soul undying, Riseth to purer life beyond the tomb!
Perchance the footsteps of the wanderer never These fairy haunts again in life may tread- Yet, as a gem in memory's casket, ever Thou art shrined, oh, loveliest city of the dead ! And when the silver cord of life, fast breaking, From all its cares shall set the weary free- Even as a child. its mother's bosom seeking,
Would she return-to rest in peace with thee ! Richmond Hill, Ontario County, N. Y.
From the Public Ledger. -
HONOUR be to them who have improved the public taste of our city, by opening gardens like that at Laurel Hill, where dust to its narrow house may peacefully retire, and the winds of heaven may pour through the branching trees solemn music for its requiem.
Oh! lay me not within the grave That bricks and stones enclose ; O'er which no shadowy branches wave, To guard my last repose.
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.Oh ! lay me 'neath some ancient tree, That spreads its shade afar ;
Where my lone grave may smiled on be By many a silent star. Where flow'rets deck the emerald sod, And with their fragrant breath, . Whisper sweet tales of peace and God, And life, and love, and death.
ANTHRAX.
Communicated by A. J. Downing, Esq., author of Downing's Landscape Gardening.
LAUREL HILL, about three miles from the city, is the pride of the Philadelphians. Instead of having been formed upon a picturesque natural surface, covered with natural forest trees, this cemetery was formerly an elegant country residence, bordering on the Schuylkill River, and displaying a gardenesque beauty in the trees, shrubs, &c. Since the grounds have been applied to the purpose of burial, a pretty entrance-gate and cottage for the superin- tendent, and also a neat Gothic chapel, have been built. There are innumerable monuments tastefully disposed in various parts of the place, and many of the small enclo- sures surrounding these are filled with the most beautiful flowering shrubs and plants. The variety of roses in particular is very great ; and these as many rare exotics, are trained and kept with the greatest care.
APPENDIX. 173
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Beside the three principal cemeteries of Boston, New York and Philadelphia, there are at least a dozen others in progress in the neighbourhood of other cities. It is re- markable that these cemeteries are the first really elegant public gardens or promenades formed in this country. In point of design, keeping, and in so far as respects the va- riety of rare flowering shrubs and trees introduced, they are much superior to the majority of country residences here, and may therefore be considered as likely to affect in a very considerable degree, the general taste for laying out and embellishing grounds. Hundreds of the citizens who ramble through them, form perhaps, their first ac- quaintance with many species of plants there, and apply the taste thus acquired to the improvement of their own gardens .- Loudon's Gardener's Magazine, London.
Extracted from " A l'abri, or the Tent Pitched," by N. P. Willis.
LAUREL HILL CEMETERY.
I DETERMINED to come home by Wyoming, after you left us, and took the boat to Philadelphia accordingly. We passed two or three days in that clean and pleasant city, and among other things made an excursion to Laurel Hill, certainly the most beautiful cemetery in the world, after the Necropolis of Scutari. It seems as if it were intended to associate the visits of the departed more with
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our pleasures than our duties. The Cemetery occupies a lofty promontory above the Schuylkill, possessing the in- equality of surface so favourable to the object, and shaded with pines and other ornamental trees, of great age and beauty. The views down upon the river, and through the sombre glades and alleys of the burial-ground, are unsur- passed for sweetness and repose. The elegance which marks everything Philadelphian, is shown already in the monuments erected. An imposing gateway leads you in from the high-road, and a freestone group, large as life, representing Old Mortality at work on an inscription, and Scott leaning upon a tombstone to watch his toil, faces the entrance. I noticed the area of one tomb enclosed by a chain of hearts, cast beautifully in iron. The whole was laid out in gravel walks, and there was no grave without its flowers. I confess the spirit of this sweet spot af- fected me deeply, and I look upon this and Mount Au- burn, at Cambridge, as delightful indications of a purer growth in our national character than politics and money- making. It is real-life poetry, which reflects as much glory upon the age as the birth of a Homer.
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Extract from a sermon by the Rev. Mr. Archer, at the Dedication of Abney Park Cemetery.
THE occasion which has called us together, and the spot where we have met, are deeply affecting and solemn. We are assembled to devote this ground as the resting-
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place of the dead-for the undisturbed, protracted sleep of their remains ; and we are assembled where, if tradition be correct, there are associations to bind us to the men of past centuries-and where some now present may form links to unite this day and place with remote ages. We commune with the dead ; their abode is our subject, and whose sensibilities does it not move ?
I know it may be said, Why think of the temple-why lavish ornament on it when the inhabitant has fled ? when breath-feeling-thought-MAN has gone ? The question is cold-freezingly, unnaturally cold-as an appeal to ex- perience, to the heart, demonstrates. Why do we impa- tiently visit the scenes of infancy-where, nursed in the affection, we have listened to the counsels, of age ? Why, but because the past is hallowed-and nature, whose im. pulses are stronger than the dictates of philosophy, irre- sistibly guides us there ? Does any one then say, how valueless the breathless frame ! Our appeal is to experience -not calculation ; to man, not the sophist. How do we cling to the body when the last spark of life has fled !- stealing into the chamber where it now rests-unconscious of our presence-its features so calm and placid in the dim religious twilight, sympathetic with the occasion and the emotions of the mourner-where the full glare of noonday would offend the soul as incongruous with the sa- credness of the scene! How do we gaze upon the coun- tenance where the traces of a wife's beauty still linger, or the expiring faint smile of parental love is fixed by death ! and not till the decay and corruption of that body make
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its presence dangerous, and even intolerable, can we tear ourselves from its side-throwing over it, as we retire, one deep gaze of the soul-and then, having drunk in the vision of the loved object, permit it to be buried out of our sight !
It is not I, then, that plead for the dead. Nature, far more heart-stirring, impressive, and universal, in her elo- quence, pleads for the sacredness of man's remains-for the sanctity of the tomb. You will find, that the state of the departed has been a matter of consideration with almost all nations that reached any degree of refinement.
From the London Quarterly Review, for March, 1844.
CHRISTIAN BURIAL.
THOSE who are fond of tracing every abuse in Christian practice to a pagan origin, will find little to help out their theory in respect of the practice of interment within the church. The evil is entirely of modern growth, and could only have occurred under a faith which, while it recog- nised the sanctity of places set apart for holy worship, re- jected all notion of pollution from the dead. Burial in heathen temples was utterly unknown, and scarcely ever allowed within the precincts of the city. The well-known heading of " SISTE VIATOR" on ancient tombs-justly ridi- culed in modern inscriptions by Dr. Johnson, and by Sir Thomas Brown before him-significantly remarks the way-
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side locality of the Roman burial-grounds. Many Greek and Latin words relating to burial, literally signifying " carrying out," point to the same custom. And the son of the Widow of Nain, who was met by our Lord " nigh to the gate of the city," when he was being " carried out," may serve to confirm the fact of the Jewish burial-grounds being without the walls.
The earliest Christians conformed to the same practice ; and it is a very credible tradition that the proto-martyr St. Stephen was buried where he was stoned, "out of the city." Persecution forced the believers to a secret cele- bration of their common worship ; and where would those who held a " Communion of Saints," living and departed, so likely betake themselves for prayer and praise to the great Head of their Church, as to the tombs of those who had died in defence of the truths that He taught ? Hence the extramural catacombs and crypts-the sepul- chres of the martyrs-became the first Christian churches, a practice to be afterwards abused by making their churches their sepulchres. For when persecutions re- laxed, and Christian temples began to rise in the light of day in the midst of the cities, the tomb-altars and relics of the martyrs, if not enclosed by a sanctuary on the spot, were removed from their original position and en- shrined in the new buildings-the fruitful source of many subsequent deflections from the primitive faith-and the origin of the coveted privilege of not being divided in death from those remains which the pious when alive had held in so much honour, that haply, like the man cast into
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the sepulehre of Elisha, they might partake of a greater portion of life by touching a good man's bones. However such might have been the popular current of feeling among the more enthusiastic and unlearned, the church authoritatively ever set her face against the innovation of burial within the churches or even within the city. Indeed those who died in the greatest odour of sanctity were not at first allowed approximation to the outside of the church. The first encroachment on the building itself was made in favour of Constantine, who was yet not deemed worthy to approach nearer than the outer court or porch of the Church of the Apostles, which he is supposed to have founded : his son Constantius deeming it, as St. Chrysos. tom declares, sufficient honour if he might lay his father's bones even in the Porch of the Fishermen. The first step, however, was now taken; and thenceforward to this hour there has been a continual struggle between the claims of rank, and power, and wealth, and superstition, and self-in- terest, and covetousness, mingled with feelings of saintly and domestic piety.
Between all these potent motives, and the sincere honour of God's house, need we say which has prevailed ? Yet there is an unbroken chain of authority against the usage. We question if there is any one other custom that has been so steadily condemned, and so continually persisted in, as that of burial within cities and churches. The two prac- tices scarcely require a separate consideration, for though in some points of view the arguments against church-yard burial may be argued à fortiori against church burial ; yet
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the actual state of our churchyards has now rendered in- terment in them the greater evil of the two.
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When Allan Cunningham was offered by Chantrey a place in his new elaborate mausoleum, Allan answered like a man and a poet, "No, no, I'll not be built . over when I am dead; I'll lie where the wind shall blow and the daisy grow upon my grave." His wish' was granted : he was laid in the lap of his mother earth, under a simple sod ; and, according to a brother poet's prayer,-
" The evening sun Shines sweetly on his grave." ** * * * * * ..
We can have no difficulty, and we think the nation will go along with us, in coming to the same main conclusion with Mr. Chadwick, in his report to Parliament : "That on the several special grounds, moral, religious, and phy- sical, and in conformity to the best usages and authorities of primitive Christianity, and the general practice of the most civilized modern nations, the practice of interments in towns in burial-places amidst the habitations of the living, and the practice of interment in churches, ought for the future, and without any exception of places, or ac- ceptation of persons, to be entirely prohibited."-Sup. Rep. § 249.
1 THE END.
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