d easier.

The mournful cortege wound slowly up a hill to the burying-ground--a
piece of broken land on the top. At the time of which we write, the
resting-place of the departed of Hillsdale presented a different
appearance from what it does now. Wild, neglected, overgrown with
briers, it looked repulsive to the living, and unworthy of the dead.
The tender sentiment which associates beauty with the memory of
our friends, and loves to plant the evergreen and rose around their
graves, seemed then not to have touched the bosoms of our people. A
pleasing change has succeeded. The briars have been removed, trees
planted, and when necessary to be laid out, new burial-ground spots
have been selected remarkable for attractiveness and susceptibility
of improvement. The brook has been led in and conducted in tortuous
paths, as if to lull with a soft hymn the tired sleepers, and then
expanded into a fairy lake, around which the weeping willow lets fall
its graceful pendants. The white pine, the various species of firs,
the rhododendron, mixed with the maple, the elm, and the tulip tree,
have found their way into the sacred enclosure. The reproach of
Puritanic insensibility is wiped out. Europe may boast of prouder
monuments, but she has no burial-places so beautiful as some of ours.
Pere la Chaise is splendid in marble and iron, but the loveliness of
nature is wanting. Sweet Auburn, and Greenwood, and Laurel Hill are
peerless in their mournful charms.

The coffin was lowered into the grave in silence. No solemn voice
pronounced the farewell "ashes to ashes, dust to dust." The ceremonies
were concluded. The minister took off his hat, and addressing the
bystanders, some of whom, respectfully imitating his example, raised
the coverings from their heads, thanked them in the name of the
afflicted family for this last tribute of regard. The procession
was formed again, and slowly returned to the house, leaving the
grave-digger to shovel in the gravel and complete his task.

As Mr. Armstrong and Faith walked home together, but few words were
exchanged between them. Each was absorbed in reflection upon the scene
just witnessed. In Faith's mind it was solemn, but devoid of gloom.
With the hopefulness of health and youth, gleams of sunshine played
over the grave. She looked beyond, and hoped and trusted.

But with her father it was different. Had it not been for him Sill
might have been alive and well. He had made the wife a widow and h