II. How they Rest. The mourner looks up to God for consolation. "From Hm cometh our help." In His heart there is exhaustless sympathy. The departed one rests! -what a beautiful thought it is-rests with HIM. We know this: we know that Death is but the opening to a better life-the grand ascent from a vale of suffering to the high mountain-tops of perpetual joy. We can sing with triumphant voice— "Glory to God on high-he saith- And life is perfected by Death." We should not, if we could, call back the missing one from the amaranthine glories of Heaven to the imperfect enjoyments of this poor Earth!-But, alas! in the midst of these ennobling thoughts, our eyes drop from the sky to the ground whereon we live and move. Silently and sorrowfully we walk the streets. They are lonely now, for that other one is not by our side. There is no more joy in the purple sunset, nor in the waving wood. The flowers are not so beautiful, nor so fragrant as they once were. The stars glitter coldly in the sky as they remind us how far, how very far we are separated from the one we love. Poor affectionate human creatures that we are! We yearn for comfort: we go 2 about searching for it in the obscurest ways, and places. The most trifling objects become endeared to us by tender associations. Nothing is too little to yield us some sweet portion of condolence. Again and again we hang over a book, a toy, a simple article of dress or ornament of the dear departed. It is priceless to us now. A poor dead flower, bestowed in a memorable moment of affection, is perfumed with the sweetest remembrance: we press a little lock of hair to our lips, and lo! it becomes a talisman of consolation. Thus it wasthus it is thus will it ever be. The Angels, themselves superior to human sorrow, bend from their clear blue home, and shed tears of sympathy for us: and in the history of the One who was once "a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief" we find the assurance that it is not wrong to mourn; that it is no crime to weep-for tears and sighs were hallowed and dignified by His example. It was this beautiful and humanizing sentiment of grief-common to the hearts of men in all countries and ages-that led to the establishment of funeral rites and ceremonies. It was the development of a Heaven-implanted instinct. It was natural that man should seek to honor the remains of those he loved. It was no less a testimonial of his affection than a consolation in his bereavement. In hallowing the memory of the Dead he lightened the burden of his own affliction: and although some of the fu neral observances which we are about to mention may-as seen by the light of our civilization-seem fantastic and grotesque, we cannot turn from their contemplation without a better opinion of the innate dignity of our race. In ancient times, a common disposal of the body was by burning. The Egyptians do not seem to have ever adopted the practice, but we know that it was in general use with the higher classes of the Greeks and Romans. Incremation was regarded as a very sacred rite, and far exceeded in magnificence and expense all other kinds of funerals. The bodies of those who had moved in the higher walks of life were burned with rich odors, gold, jewels, apparel, heads of cattle, flocks of sheep, horses, hounds, and sometimes-oh, ignorance of unavailing grief!—concubines and slaves. STATIUS, the Theban thus describes the obsequies of Archemorius Never were ashes with more wealth replete ; Of black blood and snacht milk. The Greek kings then With guidons' trail'd on earth, led forth their men In seven troops; in each troop an hundred knights, Circling the sad pile with sinister rites, Who choke the flame with dust. Thrice they encircle it; Their weapons clash; four times a horrid sound The struck arms raise; as oft the servants beat Their bared breasts, with outcries. Herds of neat, And beasts half slain another wasteful fire Devour. These funeral fires were usually quenched with red wine, after which the bones and ashes were gathered up, deposited in urns and placed in some costly monument or a niche constructed for the purpose. Among the Romans, these niches were called Columbaria (signifying dovecotes, so styled from their shape and size). They were simply small arched holes. An assemblage of these columbaria was discovered in the Villa Doria Pamfilé at Rome some years ago. One of the edifices in which they were found, appears to have been a small temple of brick, containing large and small chambers-the latter supposed to hold the ashes of slaves. The interior of these little structures was stuccoed, ornamented with relief, and painted. Incremation gradually ceased at Rome under the Emperors. Tacitus speaks of the embalming and interment of Popea as a deviation from the general practice. The ceremony of incremation is at present extinct in Europe. It was proposed to revive it during the French Revolution, but the plan was never adopted. We find in the old Testament, that the bones of Jonathan and Saul were burned, and their ashes inhumed. But these were exceptions to the general practice of the Jewish nation. The Bible narrates many instances of burial. We learn from Genesis xxv., that Abraham was buried with his wife in the cave of Machpelah, in the field of Ephron. Again in 2 Chronicles xxvi., "And Uzziah king of Juda, slept with his fathers, and they buried him with his fathers, in the field of the burial which pertained to the kings." Deborah was buried under an oak (Gen. xxxv.), and Manasseh in his own Garden. (2 Kings xxi.) From numerous passages in the Old Testament, we can gather a very correct idea of the funeral observances of the Patriarchal times. The ceremony of closing the eyes is referred to in Gen. xlvi. When Jacob died, "Joseph fell upon his father's face, and wept upon him and kissed him." The body was washed with water, and laid in an upper room. (2 Kings iv.) The heathenish custom of shaving the head and cutting the flesh was forbidden among the Hebrews. (Leviticus xix.) Hired mourners were employed to heighten the appearance of grief. (Jer. ix. and 2 Chron. xxx.) A more sincere sorrow was evinced by the rending of clothes and sitting in sackcloth. (Gen. xxxvii.) There was no fixed period for mourning. Jacob was mourned for three score and ten days before he was carried to his place of sepulture, and seven days in addition. (Gen. 1.) Moses and Aaron were mourned for thirty days. (Numb. xx. and Deut. xxxiv.) The dead body was not usually placed in a coffin (though it was sometimes used, especially by the rich), but it was enveloped in grave clothes, laid on a bier, or bed, and carried to the grave. (Gen. 1.) To be left unburied was esteemed a great calamity. (Psalms cxxix. and Isaiah xiv.) In 2 Samuel xvii. we find these words, "Now, Absalom in his lifetime had taken and reared him up a pillar, which is in the |