familiar to Londoners in which the taste engendered by a beautiful
edifice has influenced for good its surroundings. In both churchyards
are many eighteenth-century stones in excellent preservation. Neither
place, however, has yet been "restored" or "reformed" in the modern
sense, and there is no reason why it should be. In many places, as the
town grows and spreads, it is well to convert the ancient graveyard
into a public garden, so that it be decently and reverently done. But
this ought never to be undertaken needlessly or heedlessly. There are
scruples of individuals to be regarded, and a strong case ought always
to exist before putting into effect such a radical change. But it
usually happens that transformation is the only remedy, and nothing
short of a thorough reaction will rescue God's Acre from the ruin and
contempt into which it has fallen. Yet we should ever remember that,
whatever we may do to the surface, it is still the place where our
dead fathers rest.

"Earth to earth and dust to dust,
Here lie the evil and the just,
Here the youthful and the old,
Here the fearful and the bold,
Here the matron and the maid,
In one silent bed are laid."

The utilitarian impulse, though frequently blamed for the
"desecration" of our churchyards, is really less accountable for these
conversions than the culpable neglect which in too many cases has
forced the only measure of correction. Therefore they who would
keep the sacred soil unmolested should take heed that it be properly
maintained. A churchyard is in hopeful case when we see the mounds
carefully levelled, the stones set up in serried ranks, and the turf