heartiness of affection. In Scotland, also, it solemn shade over the turf-covered graves of has been observed, that the plain and mas- the humble dead, and everything breathes sive grave-stones harmonize with and illus- the air of tranquillity and repose. With its trate the deep-seated and rugged piety of hallowed associations, and aspect of solemnithe people; whilst in Ireland, the ill-tended ty, peace, and serenity, it would be impossiand slovenly burial-places symbolize the un- ble, we believe, to imagine a more approsteadiness of the Celtic character. But, how-priate resting-place from the fitful fever of ever this may be-and the notion is hardly life, or one more consonant with the feelings worth dilating onn-we invite our readers to and instincts of our nature. But the churchconsider with us for a few moments the merits yard in the large city or town is a very difand defects of our present arrangements, in ferent thing. Its narrow limits, often liable city, town and country, for the interment of to be still further contracted by undue enthe dead. croachments, its graves profaned to make room for fresh tenants,-the busy hum of life and business surrounding it on all sides, and forming so strange a contrast to the stillness of the grave,-all combine to convince the most thoughtless and the most bigoted (for to all "old ways" some men will be found bigoted) of the impropriety of such a mode of interment. In the first place, we must protest, in common we hope with all sensible persons, against the practice which has hitherto prevailed to such a fearful extent, of burying the dead in the very heart and centre of populous towns and cities, and of continuing the use of over-crowded churchyards, surrounded on all sides by human habitations. We believe the practice to be both revolting and unnecessary, and we protest against it in the name of expediency, of humanity, and of propriety. Putting the matter simply on the ground of taste and feeling, we object to a system which renders the resting-place of the departed liable to continual desecration, as well as a source of annoyance to the living; and we rejoice to find that the legislature has endeavored by a recent enactment in some degree to remedy the evil, by empowering the Board of Health to prohibit interments in over-crowded burial-grounds. The view which we take upon this subject is sanctioned so completely by the instincts of humanity and the dictates of common sense, that it is, perhaps, hardly necessary to refer to precedent, or to cite the practices of other cations and other times in its support. Nevertheless, we will remind our readers that among the Greeks, the cemetery, or "place of rest," was always without the cities, and that among the Romans, the interment of the dead beyond the walls was provided for by special enactment. The early Christians, also, originally buried outside their cities, though in the course of time they were induced to transfer their burialplaces to the neighborhood of their churches. The notion that led to this change was of course the greater sanctity of the latter situation; and that idea has naturally clung to us up to this day. Where circumstances permit and sanction it, we admit that no place of interment can be more appropriate than the consecrated ground in the vicinity of the church. We love the rural churchyard, where the "immemorial" yew-tree casts its We say then, Abolish altogether the interment of the dead amongst the habitations of the living in large, populous, busy towns. As a substitute, cemeteries, or burial places in the suburbs, must be of course resorted to. Many of these have already been established in London and other large places, by means of Joint Stock Companies; and their establishment has done much to diminish the number of interments in crowded buryinggrounds. But it is obvious that such a mode of burial is only accessible to the comparatively wealthy, and it cannot be said, therefore, that any efficient remedy is yet applied to the evil of which we complain. With regard to the taste exhibited in the sepulchral memorials of English cemeteries, (which is a matter more immediately germane to our present inquiry,) we shall say but little. Many of our readers must be familiar with those in the neighborhood of the metropolis, and have, doubtless, formed an opinion upon this point. As far as our own impressions go, whilst we admire the decency and repose, the neatness and propriety which are so grateful to the feelings of survivors, and form so striking a contrast to the squalid deformity of the city burialplace,-we cannot say that the cemeteries we have visited present in their monumental memorials and inscriptions many examples of elevated taste and poetical feeling. The sepulchral emblems which abound on all sides are characterized by great sameness and triteness, (witness the frequent occurrence of broken columns, and similar common-place memorials ;) whilst, with regard to epitaphs, we think we are justified in saying that there curious to an English eye; a large proportion representing temples and sepulchral chapels, fitted up with altars, and decorated with flowers. Although there is no great variety or originality in the epitaphs, simple and pathetic inscriptions continually occur, full of good taste and delicacy; and had we not already exceeded the limits we had assigned ourselves, we should have presented a few specimens. We must not omit to state another circum are few which display originality of thought, | are many of them at once interesting and or any remarkable power of expression. "They order this matter better in France." Thus does Sterne begin the narrative of his Sentimental Journey through France and Italy;" and if the oracular remark can in these days be said to apply to anything, we think it may be properly applied to burying-grounds. In the first revolution, the National Assembly, by one of its most salutary decrees, prohibited interments within churches, and directed the formation of burial-places at a distance from human dwell-stance, which gives more than common inings. During the dismal period of the Reign of Terror which soon followed, (when Death was declared an Eternal Sleep,) men and women were buried anywhere and everywhere, without memorial or inscription to mark the spot. But this barbarism was succeeded by a strong reactionary feeling. At the beginning of the present century decrees were promulgated for the regulation of cemeteries, and it must be confessed that at the present time the Parisian burial-places are superior to any arrangements of our own for the interment of the dead. The famous cemetery of Pere la Chaise (consecrated in 1804) ranks first in order, and is worthy of a few remarks. Among the many hundreds of our countrymen to whom the sights of Paris (thanks to the potent influence of rail and steam!) are now so familiar, there are few who have visited this spot without bringing away some pleasing impressions. Not that we intend to assert that Père la Chaise is all that a burying-ground should be. Far from it. We should like less prettiness and more solemnity; less theatrical display, less trite sentimentality. But still its advantages are great over all the burial-places on a large scale which it has been our lot to visit. To say nothing of its well-chosen situation, and the fine panoramic view of Paris which is obtained from it, there is a striking and peculiar beauty in the admixture of tombs, shrubs, and flowers, for which it is remarkable. Death is here disarmed of all that is terrible in its aspect. The restingplace of the departed is made as attractive as Parisian taste (which exults in the pretty and pleasing) could devise. The carefully tended graves, periodically visited an adorned with amaranth wreaths, bear witness to the depth and constancy of the affection of the survivors. Flowers of the most brilliant hue, elegantly disposed in urns and baskets, relieve the sombre tints of the cypress and acacia trees, which flourish luxuriantly on all sides. The tombs themselves terest and importance to the cemetery of Père la Chaise. Amongst its sixteen or seventeen thousand tombs, there are mingled numerous memorials of illustrious warriors, artists, and men of letters, recently deceased; and the visitor cannot thread its winding paths without meeting with world-famous names inscribed upon stately cenotaphs, or, should he be accompanied with a guide, without having places pointed out to him where bodies are crumbling into dust, which were once animated by spirits of no common mould. Conspicuously situated, in the centre of the cemetery, is the splendid mausoleum erected to the memory of Casimir Perier, who having vigorously wrestled with the giant democracy, after the revolution of 1830, perished in May, 1832, from exhaustion of the mental and bodily energies, produced by over excitement. The burial-place of Marshal Ney, inclosed with iron railings and planted with flowers and evergreens, is shown to the inquiring stranger, though no monument or inscription marks the spot; and we venture to think, that neither friend nor foe would pass on without heaving a sigh for the fate of the gallant soldier who was cruelly shot down, in cold blood, as a traitor and deserter, after passing unscathed through the perils of a hundred fights! The great politicians and orators of the Restoration, Manuel, Benjamin Constant, and General Foy, are all interred near the same place; and the monument of Foy, representing the General in the act of addressing the Chamber of Deputies, it is superfluous to state, has been much admired. A host of military celebrities who rose to distinction under the fostering eye of Napoleon, and whose achievements have added so much to the highly-prized military reputation of France, have also appropriate, and, in many instances, superb memorials in this remarkable burying-ground. Records will also be found of some who have won their laurels in more peaceful pursuits, or by works of charity and benevolence, as in the case of the Abbé Sicard, (a name well known in the revolution!) the Director of the Deaf and Dumb Institution, whose tomb is often inquired for. Without, however, enumerating all the illustrious persons of whom memorials are to be found in Père la Chaise, we venture to assert that it would be difficult to imagine a more interesting assemblage of monumental emblems, and the only regret is, that from the nature of their structure and constant exposure, they are not likely to be permanent. Before we bring to a conclusion these discursive remarks, we may perhaps be permitted to refer to the judiciously and eloquently expressed opinions of a recent English writer on the subject of interments. In a late number of the Quarterly Review, (at the conclusion of an article on Gardening,) it is well observed that, "if the horrid means of disposing of the dead," which prevails in London and elsewhere, "had been found in New Zealand before the introduction of Christianity, and we had been innocent of them, we should reproach them with the foul iniquity, as a worse stain on the native character than even cannibalism itself." "There is a beautiful legend," continues the reviewer, "if in these days we may be pardoned for calling anything in this line a mere legend that on the death of the Virgin, the apostles went, after a time, to remove the body, and on opening the tomb where it had been laid, found that it was gone, but in its place appeared, in full growth, a thick cluster of bright and varied flowers. On this hint be it ours to speak. Let us remove the remains of our friends from the possibility of being a nuisance and a pollution. Let no vault, nor catacomb, nor niche, be permitted to pour forth through its chinks what must shock the sensitiveness of the most ardent affection. Let us lay what is left reverently in the earth, and above the spot let us spread a carpet of living bloom. Give us, whenever the appointed hour arrives, no other monument than a parterre, six feet by two, not hung about with trumpery dyed wreaths of éternelles and fragile amaranths, but planted with humble, homely, low-growing favoritesthe aconite and the snow-drop, to mark a resurrection from the death of winter; the violet and the lily of the valley, to join cheerfully in the sweetness of spring; the rose, to sympathize with the beauty of summer; and the Japan anemone and the chrysanthemum, to carry a smile into the fading light of autumn. So best may the corruptible body be rendered up to Nature." From the tenor of our previous remarks, the reader may conclude that we cordially sympathize with such sentiments as these. We believe they are participated in, to some extent, by most persons of taste and feeling, and whilst others may think them rather fanciful, they indicate at any rate an enlightened and elevated tone of feeling, on a topic which comes home to the "business and bosoms" of us all. We must here break off, not because we have exhausted the subject, but because we do not wish to occupy too much space with so grave, and, comparatively, so trite a topic. JET AND JET ORNAMENTS.-It would excite | sometimes in the form of branches, with a surprise in the minds of many a lady adorned woody structure. It is, in its natural state, with what are known as "jet ornaments," were she told that she is wearing only a species of coal, and that the sparkling material made by the hand of the artistic workman into a "thing of beauty" once formed the branch of a stately tree, whereon the birds of the air rested, and under which the beasts of the field reposed; yet geologists assure us such is really the fact. They describe it as a variety of coal which occurs sometimes in elongated uniform masses, and soft and brittle, of a velvet black color, and alustrous. It is found in large quantities in Saxony, and also in Prussian amber mines in detached fragments, and, being exceedingly resinous, the coarser kinds are there used for fuel, burning with a greenish flame, and a strong bituminous smell, leaving an ash, also of a greenish color. Jet is likewise found in England, on the Yorkshire coast.—Art Journal. From Tait's Magazine. SCOTTISH CAVALIER OF THE OLDEN TIME.* Oh, woe unto these cruel wars WE would not raise him from the dead, even if we could! For were he here, standing up in all his grim majesty of martial pomp, we would not sneer at him who in his time did his time's work faithfully and manfully. Much less would we worship him as a hero; for even his exploits of bravery and endurance cannot raise him to the standard of a hero of our days. Why not, then, let him rest in his foreign grave? Yes, let him rest, but as a lesson to this century, as a proof that all human excellence and all ideas of human excellence are passing away to make room for other excellence and other ideas of excellence, let us try to raise, though it be but for an hour, the shadow of the shadow of Sir John Hepburn. In East-Lothian, almost within sight of Berwick-Law, and on the brink of that deep hollow or ford where the Scots defeated and slew Athelstane, the Saxon king, stands a goodly-sized manor-house, overlooking the rocky hills of Dirleton, flanked by an old kirk and surrounded by decayed, moss-covered trees. The stone steps of the mansion are worn away with the tread of many generations of men and women who have passed away and left no trace behind them. Others, the denizens of that old gloomy house, are mentioned here and there in stray parchments and records; and from the collected evidence of these it appears that House Athelstaneford was built by a branch of the Hepburns of Hailes and Bothwell, and that the place was held feudally of their kinsmen the Hepburns of Waughton. These Hepburns of Hailes and Bothwell, and of Athelstaneford and Waughton, were an impetuous First they took my brethren twain, Then wiled my love frae me; Oh, woe unto the cruel wars In Low Germanie!-Scotch Song. 66 and warlike family, who took their fill of fighting and plunder in all the frays of the Border. Thus, in January, 1569, we find them expelled from their ancestral seat at Waughton, and assembling in large masses to re-take that place, "and Fortalice of Vachtune," where they slew Vmqle. Johnne Geddes," and hurt and wounded "divers otheris," besides breaking into the barbican and capturing sixteen steeds. But while thus employed, they were attacked by the Laird of Carmichael, the Captain of the Tower, who slew three of them and drove off the rest. Among them was George Hepburn of Athelstaneford, who was subsequently tried for the proceedings of that day, and who was acquitted in this case not only, but also for the share he took in Bothwell's insurrection, for his part in which he was arraigned as having slain "three of the king's soldiers" at the battle of Langsides. Thus, escaping from sieges and battles, and, what is more, from the dangers of the law, George Hepburn died. No one knows how, and whether he came to his end on the field or the scaffold, or in his own house of Athelstaneford. Nor is anything known of the day or year of his death, for little store was in those days set by the life of a simple yeoman. In the year 1616, it is found that his eldest son, George Hepburn, is "retoured" in the lands of Athelstaneford. George's brother was John Hepburn, the chief hero of Mr. Grant's Memoir. We say the chief hero, for he records other names and the deeds of other men of the time. John Hepburn, the man in buff, had at that time, namely, in 1616, when his father was just dead, reached his sixteenth year. * Memoirs and Adventures of Sir John Hepburn, He had had what little schooling sufficed for Knight, Governor of Munich, Marshal of France under Louis XIII. and Commander of the Scots Bri-informed for a lad who left school at foura younger son of his day, and he was well gade under Gustavus Adolphus, etc. By James Grant. London: Blackwood and Sons. 1851. teen. His back was yet unbent, and his mind rather stimulated than fraught with learning. But the best acquisition he made at school was a friend, Robert Munro; his class-fellow in youth, his battle-fellow in after years. At that time John Hepburn, too, was distinguished, even on the border, for the skill and grace of his horsemanship, and for the scientific use he made of the sword. And well it was for him that he, whose fortune lay at the sword's point, should have known how to handle that instrument of his future elevation. For to a youngster from the Scottish border the time offered scarcely any sustenance and much less promotion. The border wars and the home feuds of the Scottish nobles were for the nonce terminated by the accession of James Stuart. So monotonous and void of incident had life on the border become, that John Hepburn and Robert Munro actually set out on a tour to Paris and Poictiers, perhaps for the purpose of study, though it is much more probable that they intended looking out for vacancies in some of the Scotch regiments in France. On this occasion it appears that the rising fame of the great Gustavus Adolphus, of whom he "heard frequent commendations, gave birth to a spark of military ardor within his breast which was never extinguished till his death." Robert Munro remained in Paris, and learned a soldier's trade in the body-guard of the King of France. How that trade was taught in those days will best be learned from his own account of military punish ments: "I was once made to stand, in my younger yeares, at the Louvre-gate, in Paris, for sleeping in the morning when I ought to have been at my exercise; for punishment I was made to stand, from eleven before noone to eight of the clocke in the night, centry, armed with corslet, headpiece, bracelets, being iron to the teeth, in a hot summer's day, till I was weary of my life, which ever after made me more strict in punishing those under my command." Fye boys! fye boys! leave it not there, No honor is gotten by hunting the hare, had its effect on John Hepburn, who consented to "trail a pike in Sir Andrew's band," that is to say, he enlisted as a private soldier in the division. His captain, Sir Andrew, of all men was most fit to train young soldiers to the trade of arms. He was the type of a soldier of fortune and paid partisan, to whom the camp was a home, the march a recreation, and the day of battle a season of gala and rejoicing. He had seen much service and hard fighting at home and abroad. As a friend of Lord Home, he had, in 1594, been outlawed by the General Assembly; and at the battle of Glenlivar, he commanded the Earl of Huntley's artillery, which consisted of "three culverins." This old soldier wore his buff and armor as every-day dress, even in time of peace, and he was never seen without a long sword, a formidable dagger, and a pair of iron pistols, all of which served greatly to annoy the King James Stuart, who said of old Sir Andrew that he was so fortified that, if he were but well "victualled, he would be impregnable." Impregnable though he may have been to cold iron and leaden bullets, yet being sent into Holland, in 1624, with 12,000 English, it is presumed that he perished with his men, most of whom "deyed miserablie with cold and hunger," and whose bodies lay "heaped upon another," as food for "the dogs and swine, to the horror of all beholders.' But we anticipate. In the year 1620, when John Hepburn joined Sir Andrew's band, he led his force of 1,500 men (and among them 120 moss-troopers whom the King's Council had arrested and enrolled for turbulency) through Leith and Holland into Bohemia. That unfortunate country was just then exposed to all the horrors of a religious war. The Austrian Emperor had endeavored to enforce his Roman Catholic tendencies, and the States had rebelled and offered their erown to the Elector of the Palatinate, sonin-law to James Stuart; and it was between him and the Emperor that the princes and powers of Germany and Europe had to choose. Sir Andrew Grey's Scotch Regiment joined the Elector's force in the cam John Hepburn was destined to win his spurs in a school which was equally severe, though less distinguished. When he returned home, he found Sir Andrew Grey, a soldier of fortune, with a camp of recruits at Monkrig, in the vicinity of Athelstaneford; and every day drummers were scour-paign against the Emperor's Spanish auxiliing the country, drumming out for volunteers to fight in Bohemia for the Princess Elizabeth and against the German Emperor. Their song of aries, under the Marquis Spinola; and in the course of that campaign John Hepburn was promoted to the command of a company of pikes. After the battle of Prague, |