The Genius of Scotland; or, Sketches of Scottish Scenery, Literature and Religion by Robert Turnbull

Author:Robert Turnbull [Turnbull, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Nonfiction, Travel
ISBN: 4057664562746
Google: tlQLAAAAYAAJ
Publisher: Good Press
Published: 2019-12-04T05:00:00+00:00

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CHAPTER XIV.

The Necropolis—Jewish Burial Place—Monument to John Knox—Monuments of William Macgavin and Dr. Dick—Reminiscences—Character and Writings of Dr. Dick—Pollok and 'the Course of Time'—Grave of Motherwell—Sketch of his Life—His Genius and Poetry—'Jeanie Morrison.'—'My Heid is like to rend, Willie.'—'A Summer Sabbath Noon.'

East of the Cathedral, a few steps, lies the Necropolis, on the brow of a hill which overlooks the city and the surrounding regions. We pass over the "Bridge of Sighs," so named from its leading to the Cemetery, and consisting of a handsome arch, spanning the "Molendinar Burn," a brawling rivulet, whose waters, collected into a small basin, dash over an artificial cascade into the ravine below. The Necropolis covers the rocky eminence formerly crowned with dark firs, and supposed, in ancient times to have been a retreat of the Druids, who here performed their fearful rites. But how sweet and peaceful now, ornamented with fine trees and shrubbery, shady walks, and beautiful monuments, a serene retreat for the peaceful dead. In point of situation and appearance, the Necropolis is superior to "Pere la Chaise," though certainly inferior to "Greenwood" and "Mount Auburn," in our opinion the most attractive burying-places in the world. Still, each of these has a beauty of its own, well fitted to soften and subdue those feelings of grief and horror naturally excited by death and the grave. Such sweet and attractive places of burial are in harmony with the genius of the Gospel. The ancient Greeks, from their very horror of death and their ignorance of futurity, endeavored to invest the tomb with festal associations. Why, then, should not we, upon whom the light of immortality has descended, lay those we love in scenes of quiet beauty, where "the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest?" Does not Holy Writ declare, "Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord?" It is therefore meet to place their bodies only in scenes which remind us of rest, of hope, and of Heaven.

"The Dead cannot grieve,

Not a sob nor a sigh meets mine ear,

Which compassion itself could relieve.

Ah, sweetly they slumber, nor love, hope, or fear;

Peace! peace is the watchword, the only one here."

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