contemplate these fantasies of human growth, and sometimes to admire
the flowers wherewith nature converts decay to loveliness. Can
Death, in the midst of his old triumphs, make them sensible that
they have taken up the heavy burden of mortality which a whole
species had thrown down? Dust kindred to their own has never lain
in the grave. Will they then recognize, and so soon, that Time and
the elements have an indefeasible claim upon their bodies? Not
improbably they may. There must have been shadows enough, even amid
the primal sunshine of their existence, to suggest the thought of
the soul's incongruity with its circumstances. They have already
learned that something is to be thrown aside. The idea of Death is
in them, or not far off. But, were they to choose a symbol for him,
it would be the butterfly soaring upward, or the bright angel
beckoning them aloft, or the child asleep, with soft dreams visible
through her transparent purity.

Such a Child, in whitest marble, they have found among the monuments
of Mount Auburn.

"Sweetest Eve," observes Adam, while hand in hand they contemplate
this beautiful object, "yonder sun has left us, and the whole world
is fading from our sight. Let us sleep as this lovely little figure
is sleeping. Our Father only knows whether what outward things we
have possessed to-day are to be snatched from us forever. But
should our earthly life be leaving us with the departing light, we
need not doubt that another morn will find us somewhere beneath the
smile of God. I feel that he has imparted the boon of existence
never to be resumed."

"And no matter where we exist," replies Eve, "for we shall always be