r humanity is laid to rest when
life's work is done have been always regarded as holy ground; cities of
the dead, solemn and suggestive. But this was more; in its lonely
seclusion, in its dark and terrible history, it was exciting in its
impressiveness. In the still sunlit evening, wooed to rest, one could
imagine, by the gentle murmurs of the Ilen, its little clump of gnarled
trees grouped around its scanty ruin was a picture of such complete
repose as to make the most thoughtless reflective. I entered.
Immediately inside the gate, a little to the right, are those monster
graves called by the people "the pits," into which the dead were thrown
coffinless in hundreds, without mourning or ceremony--hurried away by
stealth, frequently at the dead of night, to elude observation, and to
enable the survivors to attend the public works next day, and thus
prolong for awhile their unequal contest with all-conquering Famine. A
difficulty arose in my mind with regard to the manner of interment in
those pits. Great numbers, I knew, were interred in each of them; for
which reason they must have been kept open a considerable time. Yet,
surely, I reflected, something resembling interment must have taken
place on the arrival of each corpse, especially as it was coffinless.
The contrivance, as I afterwards learned, was simple enough. A little
sawdust was sprinkled over each corpse, on being laid in the pit, which
was thus kept open until it had received its full complement of tenants.

To trace one's steps, slowly and respectfully, among the graves of those
who have reached the goal of life in the ordinary course, fills one with
holy warnings; to stand beside the monument raised on the battle-field
to the brave men who fell there, calls up heroic echoes in the heart,
but here there is no room for sentiment; here, in humiliation and
sorrow, not unmixed with indignation, one is driven to exclaim:--

O God! that bread should be so dear,
And human flesh so cheap.

Although thus cast down by earthly feelings, divine Faith raises one up
again. Divine Faith! the noblest and brightest, and holiest gift of God
to man; always teaching us to look heavenward--_Excelsior_ in its theme
for ever. And who can doubt but the God of all consolation and mercy
received the souls of his famine-slain poor into that kingdom of glory
where He dwells, and which He had purchased for them at so great a
price. Even in their imperfections and sins, they