resort, where the evening cigar
is enjoyed, and the gossip of the day discussed, in the enjoyment of the
sea breeze that sweeps in from the waters of the Gulf of Mexico.

Just outside the city walls of Havana, and on the immediate sea-coast,
lies the Campo Santo, or public cemetery, not far from the city prison.
It is approached by a long street of dilapidated and miserable
dwellings, and is not attractive to the eye, though the immediate
entrance is through cultivated shrubbery. A broad, thick wall encloses
the cemetery, in which oven-like niches are prepared for the reception
of the coffins, containing the better or more wealthy classes, while the
poor are thrown into shallow graves, sometimes several together, not
unfrequently negroes and whites, without a coffin, quicklime being
freely used to promote decomposition. In short, the whole idea, and
every association of the Campo Santo, is of a repulsive and disagreeable
character.

This irreverent treatment of the dead, and the neglected condition of
their place of sepulture, is a sad feature in a Christian country,
contrasting strongly with the honors paid to the memory of the departed
by semi-civilized and even savage nations. We all know the sacredness
that is attached by the Turks to their burial grounds, how the mournful
cypresses are taught to rise among the turbaned tombstones, and how the
survivors are wont to sit upon the graves of the departed, musing for
hours over the loved and lost, and seeming to hold communion with their
liberated spirits. How different is it here with the Campo Santo! The
bitterest pang that an Indian endures when compelled to leave his native
hunting grounds, is that he must abandon the place where the ashes of
his ancestors repose. The enlightened spirit which removes cemeteries
from the centre of dense population is worthy of all commendation--the
taste that adorns them with trees and flowers, beautifying the spot
where the "last of earth" reposes, is a proof of high-toned feeling and
a high civilization. Nothing of this spirit is manifested at Havana. The
establishment of the cemetery without the walls of the city was a
sanitary measure, dictated by obvious necessity, but there the march of
improvement stopped. No effort has been made to follow the laudable
example of other countries; no, the Spanish character, arrogant and
self-sufficient, will not bend to be taught by others, and will not
admit a possibility of error, and they ar