To what is to be attributed the universal indifference of Americans to honouring the dead, by those little mementos and marks of affection and respect which are interwoven with the very religion of other countries? There are not fifty burial-grounds throughout the whole extent of the Union, which can be termed beautiful, rural, or even neat. The Bostonians, in the possession of their lonely and romantic Mount Auburn, have redeemed their character from the almost universal charge of apathy and indifference manifested by their fellow countrymen upon this subject. Next to Mount Auburn, the cemetery in New-Haven is the most beautifully picturesque of any in this country. In Maine there is but one, the burial-place in Brunswick, deserving of notice. Its snow-white monuments glance here and there in bold relief among the dark melancholy pines which overshadow it, casting a funereal gloom among its deep recesses, particularly appropriate to the sacred character of the spot.
I intended to devote this letter to a description of my visit to the Roman Catholic burying-ground of this city, the contemplation of which has given occasion to the preceding remarks, and from which I have just returned; but I have rambled so far and so long in my digression, that I shall have scarcely time or room to express all I intended in this sheet. But that I need not encroach with the subject upon my next, I will complete my remarks here, even at the risk of subjecting myself to--with _me_--the unusual charge of _brevity_.
Leaving the chapel, I followed the procession which I have described, for at least three quarters of a mile down a long street or road at right angles with Rampart-street, to the place of interment. The priests and boys, who in their black and white robes had performed the service for the dead, leaving the chapel by a private door in the rear of the building, made their appearance in the street leading to the cemetery, as the funeral train passed down, each with a black mitred cap upon his head, and there forming into a procession upon the side walk, they moved off in a course opposite to the one taken by the funeral train, and soon disappeared in the direction of the cathedral. Two priests, however, remained with the procession, and with it, after passing on the left hand the "old Catholic cemetery," which being full, to repletion is closed and sealed for the "Great Day," arrived at the new burial-place. Here the mourners alighted from their carriages, and proceeded on foot to the tomb. The priests, bare-headed and solemn, were the last who entered, except myself and a few other strangers attracted by curiosity.