I will now speak of Cuba, the beautiful queen of the Antilles.
I behold her then, freed from her fetters, and free from slaves; behold her crowned by her palms and her lofty mountain peaks, born again from the ocean waves, caressed by them and by immortal zephyrs, a new Eden, a home of perpetual spring, a golden chalice of health to which all the sons and daughters of earth might make pilgrimages, and take draughts of new life, and receive new revelations of the Creator's wealth, and a foretaste of the abodes of the blessed in the great Father's house. There might they wander in banana and orange groves, enjoying the delicious fruits of paradise, or sit in rocking chairs on the hills where the palm-trees wave, and the breezes from the sea, full of renovating life, dance around them; sit thus and breathe, and behold, and think how beautiful is existence! The sun descends in mild glory; brilliant cuculios dart like stars through space, and cover the tree-tops with glittering jewels; the air is filled with the music of the Cuban contre-dances, and the Spanish seguidillas; the cheerful measure of the African drums is heard in the background, and the southern Cross rises slowly above the horizon in the growing darkness of night. It is night: but no one need dread the night here; it is not cold; it has no dew. The night of paradise could not be more innocuous than that of Cuba. The weak and the suffering in body should come here and inhale invigorating life. The aged should come to be reminded of an eternal youth; the dejected and the sorrowing to gain new hope. The philosopher should come hither that his glance might be extended over the infinite realm of man and his Creator; the poet and the artist to study here new forms of beauty, new groupings of the noble and the lovely in colouring and in form. The statesman should come to strengthen his faith in the ideal of life, and the possibility of its realisation. And this new realm of beauty and goodness
