1869.] Our Gardens of JRepose. 519 attempt to make sand and native lime- stone cohere. How, then, should the mortar-bed be made up ; and how, when made, should the mortar be used ? In the first place, the lime should be used as soon as it comes out of the kiln. It should be placed in the bed of sand, in a layer of eight or ten inches thick, a small quantity of water (just sufficient to slake it) should be applied ; and, as soon as the lime falls to powder, a layer of sand (which will prevent the lime from becoming too hot) should be placed over it, and mixed with it thoroughly, and then more water should be added gradually, until, by constant stirring and mixing, the mortar is of a consist- ency suitable for the masonry. The proportion of sand to good, pure, well- burnt lime, is five or six parts by weight of sand to three of lime. As soon as made, the mortar should be used ; and when sufficiently moist, the water of the mortar, charged with lime, will penetrate into the stone ; and a firm union will take place. The less mortar there is in a mass, in the masonry, and the more closely the stones are placed in contact, the stronger will be the wall. Some masons put within the wall more mortar than stones, thus adding greatly to the cost, and detracting from its strength. An Observer. December 24th, 1868. OUR GARDENS OF REPOSE. "Here is a calm for those that weep, A rest for weary pilgrims found: They softly lie and sweetly sleep Low in. the ground." -L " C( more beautiful idea was ever conceived, than that of la3'ing out, with all the accompaniments of taste, those last resting-places, which living- humanity appropriates to the dead. However great the effect of a fine city, viewed at a point t© be distinct, we know that it is the living, moving, breathing-place of all that is active in man, whether of virtue, or of vice. The very sounds which come up from its bustling streets have a mixture of har- mony and discord in them. Turn away from this busy scene of the haunts of men ; and look down on that tranquil slope, of quiet beauty, where the green-sward, nature's most beautiful carpet, is do: ted over with the varied shades of foliage, divided by the labyrinthine pathways, which seem to flow over its surface. Here and there we catch the rising obelisk, or spire ; and everywhere the specks of memory glisten in their white array, as they silently mark the footprints of eternity. The City of the Dead is as much the study of the architect, as is that of the living ; for, the claims of memory are as strong as those of passing life. Build up and decorate our busy temples of commerce, or amusement, as we may, we still owe a memento to the past, for which mortality sues in silence, far more eloquent than words. Give to the dead a Garden of Repose, surrounded with all the fragrance of living flowers, whose sweet incense shall do homage to memory ; and those ever- green charms, which should teach the lesson of undying love, imparted by the grave. The architect will find here ample play for emblematic composition — the very poetry of design. Let him beware of exciting the smile of contempt, rather than the tear of sympathy ; for, there is no more trying occasion for the true spirit of his art, than is to be found
