"And how," inquired I, "did his wife bear the shock of joyful surprise ? "

"Why," said the old man, deepening the grin of death's-head, his chisel was just then employed, "I really felt poor woman; one best pieces of marble,--and thrown away on living man ! "

comely woman, with pretty rosebud of daughter, came to select gravestone for twin-daughter, who had died month before impressed different nature feelings dead; the mother was calm and wofully resigned, fully conscious of her loss, as of treasure which she always possessed, and, therefore, aware taken from her; but the daughter evidently had no real knowledge of what death's doings were Her thoughts knew, but not her heart It seemed , that print and pressure which the dead sister had left survivor's spirit, her feelings were almost the same she still stood side by side, and arm in arm, departed, looking slabs of marble; and she glanced around with sunny smile, which, as its sister smile had faded forever, soon grew confusedly overshadowed Perchance her consciousness was truer than her reflection,--perchance her dead sister was closer companion than in life The mother and daughter talked long while with Mr Wigglesworth about suitable epitaph, and finally chose an ordinary verse of ill-matched rhymes, which had already been inscribed upon innumerable tombstones But, when we ridicule the triteness of monumental verses, we forget that Sorrow reads far deeper than , and finds profound and individual purport in what seems so vague and inexpressive, unless interpreted by her She makes the epitaph anew, though the self-same words served for thousand graves

"And yet," said I afterwards to Mr Wigglesworth, "they made better choice than this While you were discussing the subject, struck by dozen simple and natural expressions lips of both mother and daughter formed an inscription equally original and appropriate "

"No, no," replied the sculptor, shaking his head, " of comfort gathered little old scraps of poetry; and so I always recommend them in preference to any new-fangled ones And somehow, they seem to stretch to suit great grief, and shrink to fit small one "

not seldom that ludicrous images were excited by what took place between Mr Wigglesworth customers shrewd gentlewoman, who kept tavern town, was anxious to obtain gravestones deceased members of her family, and solemn commodities by taking the sculptor to board Hereupon fantasy arose in my mind, of good Mr Wigglesworth sitting down to dinner at broad, flat tombstone, carving one own plump little marble cherubs, gnawing pair of cross-bones, and drinking out of hollow death's-head, or perhaps lachrymatory vase, or sepulchral urn; while his hostess's dead children waited on him ghastly banquet On communicating this nonsensical picture old man, he laughed heartily, and pronounced my humor right sort

" lived at such table all my days," said he, "and eaten no small quantity of slate and marble "

"Hard fare ! " rejoined I, smiling; "but you seemed found it excellent of digestion, too "

man of fifty, or thereabouts, with harsh, unpleasant countenance, ordered stone grave bitter enemy he had waged warfare half lifetime, mutual misery and ruin The secret phenomenon was, that hatred had become the sustenance and enjoyment poor wretch's soul; it had supplied the place of all kindly affections; it really bond of sympathy between himself man who shared the passion; and when its object died, the unappeasable foe only mourner dead He expressed purpose of being buried side by side enemy

" whether their dust will mingle," remarked the old sculptor ; for often an earthliness conceptions

"O yes," replied I, who had mused long incident; "and rise again, these bitter foes may find themselves dear friends Methinks what they mistook for hatred was but love under mask "

gentleman of antiquarian propensities provided memorial for an Indian of Chabbiquidick, few of untainted blood remaining region, and said an hereditary chieftain, descended sachem who welcomed Governor Mayhew Vineyard Mr Wigglesworth exerted his best skill to carve broken bow and scattered sheaf of arrows, in memory hunters and warriors whose race was ended here; but he likewise sculptured cherub, to denote poor Indian had shared the Christian's hope of immortality

"Why," observed I, taking perverse view winged boy bow and arrows, "it looks more like Cupid's tomb than an Indian chief's ! "

"You talk nonsense," said the sculptor, offended pride of art; he then added, usual goodnature, "How can Cupid die when such pretty maidens Vineyard ? "

"Very true," answered I; and rest day of other matters than tombstones

At our next meeting him chiselling an open book upon marble headstone, and concluded meant to express the erudition of some black-letter clergyman Cotton Mather school It turned out, however, emblematical scriptural knowledge of an old woman who had never read anything but her Bible; monument was tribute to her piety and good works, Orthodox church, she member In strange contrast Christian woman's memorial, of an infidel, whose gravestone, by his own direction, bore an avowal belief spirt within him extinguished like flame, and nothingness whence he sprang would receive him again Mr Wigglesworth consulted me propriety of enabling dead man's dust to utter this dreadful creed

"If ," said he, "that single mortal would read the inscription without shudder, my chisel should never cut letter of it But grave speaks such falsehoods, the soul of man will know the truth by its own horror "

"So ," said I, struck idea; "the poor infidel may strive to preach blasphemies grave; but only another method of impressing the soul with consciousness of immortality "

an old man name of Norton, noted island great wealth, which he had accumulated exercise of strong and shrewd faculties, combined with most penurious disposition This wretched miser, conscious that he friend mindful of him grave, had himself taken the needful precautions for posthumous remembrance, by bespeaking an immense slab of white marble, with long epitaph in raised letters, the whole as magnificent as Mr Wigglesworth's skill could make it something very characteristic contrivance his money's worth even own tombstone, which, indeed, afforded him more enjoyment that he lived thereafter, than it probably will in whole century, now laid over his bones This incident reminds me of young girl, pale, slender, feeble creature, most unlike the other rosy and healthful damsels Vineyard, amid whose brightness she was fading away Day after day did the poor maiden come sculptor's shop, and pass from one piece of marble to another, till at last she pencilled her name upon slender slab, which, , was of more spotless white than all the rest her no more, but soon afterwards found Mr Wigglesworth cutting her virgin name stone which she had chosen

" dead,--poor girl," said he, interrupting the tune which whistling, "and she chose good piece of stuff for her headstone Now which slabs would you like best your own name upon ? "

"Why, you the truth, my good Mr Wigglesworth," replied I, after moment's pause,-- abruptness question had somewhat startled me,--" quite sincere , I care little or nothing about stone own grave, and am somewhat inclined to scepticism propriety of erecting monuments at all, over the dust that once was human The weight heavy marbles, though unfelt dead corpse enfranchised soul, presses drearily spirit survivor, and causes him to connect the idea of death dungeon-like imprisonment tomb, instead of freedom skies Every gravestone that you ever made visible symbol of mistaken system Our thoughts should soar upward butterfly,--not linger exuviae that confined him In truth and reason, neither those whom we call the living, and still less the departed, have anything grave "

"I never heard anything so heathenish ! " said Mr Wigglesworth, perplexed and displeased at sentiments which controverted all his notions and feelings, and implied the utter waste, and worse, whole life's labor; "would you forget your dead friends, the moment under the sod ? "

" under the sod," I rejoined; "then why should I mark the spot where no treasure hidden ! Forget them ? No ! But to remember them aright, forget what cast off And, to gain the truer conception of DEATH, forget them GRAVE ! "

But still the good old sculptor murmured, and stumbled, as it were, over the gravestones amid which he had walked through life Whether he were right or wrong, I had grown the wiser companionship and from my observations of nature and character, as displayed who came, with their old griefs or their new ones, them recorded upon his slabs of marble And yet, with my gain of wisdom, I had likewise gained perplexity; for strange doubt in my mind, whether the dark shadowing life, the sorrows and regrets, real comfort --leaving religious influences --as what we term life's joys