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What raros o’er the prairie free ! 
What liUKerinKs ’nnftth the vino-clad tree 
What lishinn on the mountain lake I 
What squirrel hunts In cedar brake ! 
What KuthoriiiKH by the pino Ore's blaze! 
What pure, what K'rlon-tintod days ! 
And wlmt remains of days so fair / 
A Memory that Is hall' a prayer; 
A Love which owns immortal t.ies 
And lifts Its hend above tho skies; 
A Hope which Rllds with lleav’nly light 
The darkest hours of earthly night. 
[Christian, Union. 
CEMETERY OP SxA.X\T LA/ZAHO. 
months for pleasure travel. Nor is this an 
exceptional ease. And what return those 
Englishmen get for their investment in rest, 
and recreation and country life! What an 
amount of work they achieve! See Glad¬ 
stone and D’Israeli, lending the Govern¬ 
ment and the Opposition, and meanwhile 
writing novels and theological essays, in an 
incidental way! To our nervous force these 
men add a solid basis of physical strength, 
that gives their beat an advantage over our 
best in real capacity for work. 
“ 11, is idle to expect one people to copy its 
methods of recreation from another. Our 
people will not take their amusement as t he 
Germans do or its tho English do. they will 
rather grow info ways of their OWIK nat ur¬ 
ally developed from their character and cir¬ 
cumstances. Hut it is high time t hat, each 
one should for himself heartily accept and 
act on the principle, that play is just as 
much a necessity to him as food or sleep. 
Let, it, take what, form he likes social enjoy¬ 
ment or bodily exercise; gardening, riding, 
walking, rowing; public amuse hum its;—any¬ 
thing that is innocent, that he on joys, and 
that does not task the same faculties as his 
work. To have something of this kind is a 
religious duty. No man can bo a strong and 
dor, and if they don't become very great 
they are extremely likely to become tho 
very opposite. There is no middle ground 
for them, for they were not taught to regard 
any, and consequently, they tire, as a gener¬ 
al thing, unlit, for it. Poverty has helped 
men to solve some of the greatest problems 
of life. Half its brave deeds have been a ne¬ 
cessity, and the most of its noble sayings 
have been bon^of a determined opposition. 
It does a man good to put him at, his wits’ 
ends. Emergencies make men. Any man 
can be a general or a pilot in a. calm; but 
st orms show the metal. Reputation is made 
nmre. by boldness and will, than by ability 
aud patience. Life is too short to wait for 
the tide whose ebb leads cm to fortune. We 
must, make t he most, of present opportuni¬ 
ties, but we shall hardly do it, unless pres¬ 
ent opportunities are in the main present 
necessities. The man who works out these 
to the fullest extent is the most successful 
Man being not only a religious, but also a 
social, being, requires for the promotion of 
his rat ional happiness, religious institutions 
which, while they give a proper direction to 
devoi ion, at lie 1 same time make a wise and 
TOMB OF GONZjALO C^k^X^VlNTOTsT. 
well man without it. And no one has a right profitable improvement of his social feel- 
before God to be anything but strong and ings.—lio.sere Ballou. 
well, so far as lies in his power.” -- 
-- Perhaps every one is not able to stem 
Cato says, the best way to keep good acts the temptations of public life.; and if he can- 
in memory, is to refresh them with new not oouquer he may properly retreat.— Dr. 
ones. I Johnson. 
BY DE FORREST P. GUMMERSON. 
I.-By the Lnko. 
“ Aina ! liow easily things go wrong,— 
A sigh too much, or st kiss too long, 
And there follows n inist and a weeping rain. 
And life is never the same again." 
“ Is it for all time, Dallas?— forever and 
forever? " 
" Yes, for all time. This love of yours, 
which I once believed to be wholly mine, 1 
cast in the dust at your feet; tear its fibers, 
root, and branch, from out my heart, where¬ 
in they have been Interwoven; and for all 
time, Alice.” 
"Oil, Heaven! Will nothing move tho 
man to pity?” 
“ Pity! What had you to do with pity, 
Alice Day, when on bended knee I plead 
with you not to go with this man to tho 
concert last night?” 
"Ho was my cousin; there surely could 
not have been harm in that." 
“ But ho was a gambler and a noted 
villain. I recognize no t ie of blood which 
binds together the pure and good with the 
base and ignoble; besides, Alice, the wo¬ 
man who becomes my wife, if she would bo 
t ruly happy, must listen to my wishes more 
than you have yet been willing to do. I see 
plainly we were not made for one another, 
and it is bettor that we should.part at the 
very gate of rather than after we had en¬ 
tered into — matrimony. So, once more, 
Alice Day I say, ‘good-by’ for all time.” 
And he was gone. Dallas! whom Hhe 
loved—oli, how dearly! She was not strong, 
this woman, and could not always see plainly 
between right and wrong; and it had seemed 
such a funny thing to see her lover kneeling 
at her feet and begging a favor of her, that, 
she could not resist the temptation to tease 
him—just a little—for this once, by going. 
It was her cousin, too, with whom she was 
to go, and he had always been very kind to 
her. I think she might not have known 
how bad he really was, aud therefore was 
not so very wrong, after all; at least she 
thought so. 
Dallas Reeves was gone. Out from the 
heart that loved him even better than ho 
knew, ho had torn himself forever. In one 
month more he would have married Alice 
Day; now, never! 
Alas! how little does the happiness of 
one’s whole life depend on! An angry 
word, and the joy within our homes is gone. 
A careless action, and the wreck of a life is 
all that is left, and the sun is hidden in dark¬ 
ness evermore. 
Alice Day wandered out from the grovo 
in which she had parted with Dallas 
Reeves —somewhere, I do not think she 
knew; and with only the soft, pale moon 
looking down from its eyrie in the sky, 
reached the lake. How cool it looked to 
her fevered gaze. Here she could still the 
beating of her aching heart How It rip¬ 
pled and danced ’heath the moon’s soft 
rays. After all, life was sad—hardly worth 
the struggle it cost—and the sorrows wore 
greater than the joys. Perhaps true happi¬ 
ness could only be found beneath these 
laughing ripples that, in spite of her sad 
heart, went dancing on and on. Should 
she try it ? 
She carefully untied the fastening of her 
bonnet and laid it upon the ground; then 
her cloak was laid beside it. This done, 
she knelt, and prayed that Gon would for¬ 
give her for the rash act she was about to 
commit. She know that she was wrong; 
but what, was life to her without the love of 
Dallas Reeves? Better, far better that 
she should sleep beneath the still, cool wa¬ 
ter, than live through years of untold agony 
alone! 
DUTY OF PLAY. 
The Christian Union has this very sensi¬ 
ble article on the Duty of Play : 
“ As a people we. do not know how to play. 
Of all arts, we are most backward in this. 
We can work, we can talk, we can fight— 
but we cannot play. We do not play. We 
are always intent on business. Our very fun 
Hashes out as an iucident in the midst of 
strenuous activity. We arc forever DOING. 
When it is not our own business, it is the 
business of the church or of society. We 
stop long enough to eat and sleep, simply 
because we cannot help ourselves. But, the 
eating and the sleeping are thrust in edge¬ 
wise, as it were. They arc. intrusions; and 
we dispatch them at the highest speed, and 
carry our cares to our meals and into dreams. 
If we do profess to take amusement we so 
manage as to keep up the full tension of the 
system; we do it hard. 
“ We have spoken of this as peculiarly an 
American defect. Auy one will find it, so 
who looks at the European peoples. Seethe 
Germans,—the nation that just now shows 
best in the world's race. The true German 
has a side of life that the American knows 
nothing about. Go into a respectable Ger¬ 
man beer-garden or concert, saloon, toward 
the close of the day. Hero are the counter¬ 
parts of our professors and business men, 
and mothers of families. Thing incredible 
to American ears, they are idle, and are 
happy in it. At intervals they listen to 
charming music. For the rest, they chat, 
they drink a glass of beer or a cup of coffee, 
they stroll about, they seem wholly pur¬ 
poseless and altogether at their ease. Their 
enjoyment, is of a very simple kind, there 
is no excitement in it, it is just rest and 
play. We do not propose their way as a 
model for Americans; but it is one way, and 
in their case it proves most effectual, of let¬ 
ting the strained and wearied system re¬ 
fresh itself. 
“ Look again at the English, especially the 
upper and middle classes,—their field sports, 
their hunting, their long Summer vacations. 
The universities keep term hardly more 
than half the year. The professional man 
takes his months in the Summer and An- WANT IN LIFE, 
lumn, for shooting excursion, or for a tramp 
in the mountains of Scotland or Switzerland. There is nothingmore fortunate for mod- 
The life of Sir Henry Holland affords a good crate genius than to be boru poor. The 
instance. Hero was a hard-working man " silver spoon” class are a very comfortable 
who reached the summit of his profession, people, no doubt, but the great trouble with 
and every year of his life took two solid them is, their education is mainly of this or- 
“ THE DAYS THAT ABE NO MORE.” 
BY LILLIE E. BAHK. 
O love, what jfolden days were ours 
Among t ho corn and cotton flowers 
Under tho trees so thick and cool. 
And ut tlio hcron-hnunted pool. 
And by tho river deep and quick. 
In Autumn when the nuts lay thick. 
(Vavilin;; ^Topicfi. 
THE MASSACRE OF CUBAN STUDENTS. 
[SEE ILLUSTRATIONS.! 
The pictures herewith given represent 
places connected with one of the most bru¬ 
tal aud awful incidents of the Cuban revo¬ 
lution; an incident which excited the whole 
civilized world. The tragedy is of such re¬ 
cent occm rcnce our readers will remember 
it. On the 35th of last November a number 
of students from the Medical College of 
Havana visited the cemetery of San Lazza¬ 
ro, where the two heroes of the Loyalist 
Party, Castanon and Grosman, are en¬ 
tombed- While there they were charged 
with disfiguring the tombs of these men, 
who had actively opposed the Cuban insur¬ 
rection. The chaplain of the cemetery 
lodged a complaint, against them, and 
they were arrested by the order of Gen. 
Crespo, but after a trial before a military 
tribunal, were acquitted. Upon this a cry 
arose among the volunteers for their blood, 
and Gen. Crespo, afraid of his own forces, 
consented to have them tried by court mar¬ 
tial, the officers of the volunteer force con¬ 
stituting a majority. Two were acquitted, 
thirty-one were sentenced to hard labor in 
the galleys, aud eight wore shot within for¬ 
ty-eight hours in the Plaza de la Puorta. 
Their ages were from fifteen to nineteen. 
Within a week orders have been issued by 
the King of Spain for the release of the stu¬ 
dents who were sentenced to the galleys, 
aud they have been put on board of a man 
of war, and will be sent to Spain. 
Our engravings represent the cemetery 
and the tomb of Castanon, where the al¬ 
leged desecration took place. < ’ll ban ceme¬ 
teries differ from those of tho Northern 
States, resembling those found in New Or¬ 
leans. Tho dead arc not buried in the 
ground, but shelved In dry niches built 
into walls of solid masonry, like the ovens 
or retorts of a gas house. The bodies are 
packed away in curiously-shaped Collins in 
the niches. A stone slab seals the mouth 
of the niche, and on it the names, etc., of 
the deceased are inscribed. In some cases 
these slabs are protected by glass projec¬ 
tions, between which and the slabs are 
placed lamps, flowers, crosses, and Immor¬ 
telles, as shown in tho picture. The only 
injury done to the tomb of Castanon was 
a scratch on the glass, with a diamond ring. 
This fatal scratch, which caused the effusion 
of 60 much blood, is shown in the picture. 
THE SISTER OF CHARITY. 
