and there I see the
delicate and elaborate workmanship of a skillful master. Here my heart is
touched by the sweet simplicity of a simple slab bearing some touching
lines, there I stand in silent admiration before the magnificent
proportions of a towering monument, or sit down to study the meaning of
some obscure design. A mere sketch of all that I saw there would fill a
volume, but I found one monument which I cannot pass by without some
notice. It stands on Hilly Ridge, and was erected to the memory of six
"_lost at sea_, on board the steamer 'Arctic,' Sept. 27th, 1854." These
words arrested my attention, and a minute later, I had ascended the
domical summit of the hill, and stood at the foot of the high monument. It
has a square granite base upon which stand four little red pillars of
polished Russian granite, supporting a transversely arched canopy, with a
high spire. Under the canopy is represented the Ocean and the shipwreck of
the "Arctic." The vessel is assailed by a terrible storm, and fiercely
tossed upon the foaming waves! She has already sprung a leak, and through
the ugly gash admits a copious stream of the fatal liquid, while the
raging sea, like an angry monster, is about to swallow her distined prey!
Down she goes, and among the many passengers on board, are

Grace, _wife of Geo. F. Allen and daughter of James Brown, born Aug.
25th, 1821._

Herbert, _infant child of Geo. F. and Grace Allen, born Sept, 28th,
1853._

William B., _son of James Brown, born April 23rd, 1825._

Clara, _wife of Wm. B. Brown and daughter of Chas. Moulton, born June
30th, 1830._

Clara Alice Jane, _daughter of William B. and Clara Brown, born Aug. 30,
1852._

Maria Miller, _daughter of James Brown, born Sept. 30th, 1833._

What a sad story! As the ship wreck occurred in the fall, it is highly
probable that the party was homeward bound and, had better fortune been
with them, might in a very few days have again been safe and happy in
their respective homes, relating stories of their strange but pleasant
experiences in the Old World. How changed the tale! How their friends must
have been looking and waiting for the "Arctic!" One line told the whole
story, and perhaps all that was ever heard of them, "The 'Arctic' is
wrecked!"

Not far away, on the crown of Locust Hill, sleeps Horace Greeley,
America's great journalist and political economist. At the head of his
grave stands a temporal memorial stone in