Palm tree dreameth of the pine,
The pine tree of the palm;
and in his delicate imaginings the dream is of two continents—ocean parted—each of which longs for the other. Strange enough, as one pushes along the steep ascent from the landing at Rábida, up the high bluff on which the convent stands, the palm tree and the pine grow together, as in token of the dream of the great discoverer, who was to unite the continents.
LIFE FOR LIBERTY.
Fitz-Greene Halleck, a noted American poet. Born in Guilford, Conn., July 8, 1790; died November 19, 1867.
Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word,
And in its hollow tones are heard
The thanks of millions yet to be.
Come when his task of fame is wrought,
Come with her laurel-leaf, blood-bought,
Come in her crowning hour, and then
Thy sunken eye's unearthly light
To him is welcome as the sight
Of sky and stars to prison'd men;
Thy grasp is welcome as the hand
Of brother in a foreign land;
Thy summons welcome as the cry
That told the Indian isles were nigh
To the world-seeking Genoese,
When the land wind, from woods of palm,
And orange groves, and fields of balm,
Blew o'er the Haytian seas.
GENOA.
Murat Halstead, an American journalist. Born at Ross, Ohio, September 2, 1829. From "Genoa—the Home of Columbus," a paper in Cosmopolitan, May, 1892.
The Italian coast all around the Gulf of Genoa is mountainous, and the mountains crowd each other almost into the sea. Land that can be built upon or cultivated is scarce, and the narrow strips that are possible are on the sunny southern slopes. The air is delicious. The orange trees in December lean over the garden walls, heavy with golden spheres, and the grass is green on the hills, and when a light snow falls the roses blush through the soft veil of lace, and are modest but not ashamed, as they bow their heads. The mountains are like a wall of iron against the world, and from them issues a little river whose waters are pure as the dew, until the washerwomen use them and spread clothing on the wide spaces of clean gravel to dry. The harbor is easily defended, and with the same expensive equipment would be strong as Gibraltar. It is in this isolation that the individuality of Genoa, stamped upon so many chapters of world-famous history, grew. There is so little room for a city that the buildings are necessarily lofty. The streets are narrow and steep. The pavements are blocks of stone that would average from two to three feet in length, one foot in width, and of unknown depth. Evidently they are not constructed for any temporary purpose, but to endure forever. When, for a profound reason, a paving-stone is taken up it is speedily replaced, with the closest attention to exact restoration, and then it is again a rock of ages.
THE CELEBRATION AT HAMBURG.
Among the celebrations of the 400th anniversary of the discovery of America, that of the city of Hamburg, in Germany, will occupy a prominent place. On October 1st an exhibition will be opened at which objects will be on view that bear on the history of the act of discovery, on the condition of geographical science of the time, and on the conditions of the inhabitants of America at the time of the discovery. Side by side with these will be exhibited whatever can show the condition of America at the present time. On the date of the discovery of the little Island of Guanahani—that is, October 12th—the celebration proper will take place. The exercises will consist of songs and music and a goodly array of speeches. In the evening, tableaux and processions will be performed in the largest hall of the city. The scenery, costumes, and implements used will all be got up as they were at the time of the discovery, so as to furnish a real representation of the age of Columbus.