this ample reservoir is taken that transparent ice
which gladdens the eyes and cools the throat of the dust-dried traveller
throughout this part of the State. Nor is its grateful service confined
to these limits; for cargoes of it are, during the spring, regularly
shipped to the Havannah, New Orleans, Mobile, &c.; and,--for where will
enterprise find limits?--this very season has a shipment of three
hundred tons of the congealed waters of this pond of Massachusetts been
consigned to Calcutta. Ice floating on the Ganges! How old Gunga will
shiver and shake his ears when the first crystal offering is dropped on
his hot bosom!

Wild as the idea may at first appear of keeping such a commodity for a
voyage of probably a hundred days in such latitudes, I am informed the
speculator is assured, that with an ordinary run, enough of his cargo
may be landed to pay a good freight.[4]

Near to this pond lies another favourite spot of mine, "Mount Auburn;" a
tract of woodland, bordering on Charles River, appropriated and
consecrated as a cemetery, on the plan of "Pere la Chaise," but having
natural attributes for such a purpose infinitely superior. It is covered
by a thick growth of the finest forest-trees, of singular variety; and
presents a surface, now gently undulating in hill and dale, now broken
into deep ravines, or towered over by bold rocky elevations; and,
intersecting the whole space from north to south, runs a natural
terrace, having a surface so well and evenly levelled that one almost
doubts its being other than the work of art.

It takes its name from a lofty eminence, which, rising high over the
surrounding level, commands as fine a view as any spot in the vicinity.
Winding and well-kept avenues intersect the ground in all directions,
giving it an appearance of much greater extent than it in reality
possesses, and rendering the most secluded spot easy of access to those
who desire to

"Choose their ground,
And take their rest."

The ostentatious mausoleum may be placed by a broad carriage avenue,
where its hollow walls will reverberate to every passing triumph of the
tomb; the quiet and the lowly can build their humbler dwelling in some
secluded nook, bordered by a narrow path the foot of affection alone
will seek to tread, and where no heavier sound will ever echo!

The perpetual right of sepulture may be purchased of the company whose
property the place is; and already a number of monuments, in