The picturesque pocket companion, and visitor's guide, through Mount Auburn

He who has visited the Parisian Cemetery whose éclat imposes on the imagination much more, let me say, than it can on the eyes-knows full well the expense at which the increase of its honors and the influence of its antiquity have been obtained. He who has not been there, can easily conceive what I mean. I will not dwell on such a theme. The more it is considered, however, the less disposed, I am sure, we shall be,--with all our awe and admiration at what is so fine and so famous in the “splendid” Cemeteries of the Old World — the less disposed we shall be, on the whole, to envy them anything of either the moral or he material grandeur they possess. So long, at least, as we can multiply Mount Auburns around us, it surely must be so. I know it is not sound philosophy to anticipate what we may not like when it comes. It is most unwise to burthen ourselves with the expected troubles of future generations, who doubtless will not only take the liberty to judge of their own condition for themselves, but will find something-many things --to make amends for whatever evil it may include. And yet, for such as incline to be discontented with the historical poverty of Mount Auburn,--for such, still more, as commit the error of confounding this want (a comparative want) of mere classical with one of moral character, in its wider sense,--for those, most especially, if any indeed there are, who covet the paraphernalia which intellect, and industry, and wealth and pride have certainly accumulated so richly round the burial-places of even the truly great and good, as well