i, recalling
the shadows which daily creep up the heights of San Elmo, and disappear
with the setting sun behind the orange-groves.

The cathedral of Havana, on Empedrado Street, is a structure of much
interest, its rude pillared front of defaced and moss-grown stone
plainly telling of the wear of time. The two lofty towers are hung with
many bells which daily call to morning and evening prayers, as they have
done for a hundred years and more. The church is not elaborately
ornamented, but strikes one as being unusually plain. It contains a few
oil paintings of moderate merit; but most important of all is the tomb
where the ashes of Columbus so long reposed. All that is visible of this
tomb, which is on the right of the altar, is a marble tablet six feet
square, upon which, in high relief, is a bust of the great discoverer.

As we view the scene, Military Mass begins. The congregation is very
small, consisting almost exclusively of women, who seem to do penance
for both sexes in Cuba. The military band, which leads the column of
infantry, marches, playing an operatic air, while turning one side for
the soldiery to pass on towards the altar. The time-keeping steps of the
men upon the marble floor mingle with drum, fife, and organ. Over all,
one catches now and then the subdued voice of the priest, reciting his
prescribed part at the altar, where he kneels and reads alternately. The
boys in white gowns busily swing incense vessels; the tall, flaring
candles cast long shadows athwart the high altar; the files of soldiers
kneel and rise at the tap of the drum; seen through an atmosphere
clouded by the fumes of burning incense, all this combines to make up a
picture which is sure to forcibly impress itself upon the memory.

It seems unreasonable that, when the generous, fruitful soil of Cuba is
capable of producing two or three crops of vegetation annually, the
agricultural interests of the island should be so poorly developed.
Thousands of acres of virgin soil have never been broken. Cuba is
capable of supporting a population of almost any density; certainly
five or six millions of people might find goodly homes here, and yet the
largest estimate of the present number of inhabitants gives only a
million and a half. When we tread the fertile soil and behold the
clustering fruits in such abundance,--the citron, the star-apple, the
perfumed pineapple, the luscious banana, and others,--not forgetting the
various noble woods wh