The Appeal., 1911-03-11

rays or the sun that shining from a cloud
less SKY. This sand was soft and yielding under
toct, and made walking hard and tiresome. But
on up the beach we went, and came to the old
sea wall that had been built there centuries ago
to keep back the waves when winds were at war
with the waters. Soon the frowning walls of
what once served Spanish prison came to
view, and climbing high up the rocky en-
bankment we entered the old dungeon, and as
we stood therein we thought of the broken
hearts and sighs and cries Of agony that had, in
the far distant past, ascended to heaven from
within this cruel encosure-how that hope had
gone out Of the human heart, and death had
come as sweet relief to the prisoner here in this
dark and dismal place-and how that the gay
world had gone on outside, forgetful that he had
ever lived and suffered and passed away.
Leaving this prison of the old time, we went
further on up the beach and came to the ruined
old castle, standing there on the seashore like
some great, silent sentry, pointing backward and
whispering to one of the days that are buried in
the depths of the long ago. Here the governor Of
all the territory had resided-a Spanish noble
man in whose veins flowed the proudest blood of
old CASTLE IN this very place he was surrounded
by his numerous courtiers and bands of soldiers
with changing arms and trumpet calls; and proud
lords and lovely ladies met here in nights gone
by, and to the strains Of sweetest music danced
the hours away. But noW all is as quiet and
noiseless as the stiffness Of death-only the soft
oiooASo Iudt pass SeuLly through the IO1dgo or
the royal palms and the evergreen trees, and the
faint murmur of the distant waves of the sea dis
turb the deep and solemn silence
The great stones that form the castle walls
towering many feet high, with their barren win
doWs and froWning portfolios commanding a view
of the blue and restless waters as far as the eye
see the only tokens that man once re-
sided here-for the ruler and his courtiers and
his bands of solders-proud lords and lovely
ladies Of that faroff time, have ALL all gone and
not left to tell of their greatness and grand
eur-their very names being blotted from the
memory of man.
Only short distance from the ruins of this
silent old castle stands the wreck of the once
are of gray sandstone firmly cemented together.
In this ancient cathedral, that was built nearly
400 years ago by hands that have long since been
idle, may yet be seen the baptismal font where,
in ages past, innocence was christened into re-
ligious life. ..
The chancel, where once stood the priest and
ministered spiritual comfort to his flock may yet
be seen. All its former gaudy trappings, and the
beautiful mural paintings have disappeared, and
IN the alcove above where was once the statue
OF the Crucifed One, only the barren stones of
the temple look down upon you in mute blank
ness and eternal silence. Everything in and
about this wrecked old cathedral speaks of de-
parted splendor.
Yet it is still held in reverence, for to this
good day the simple, childke natives of this land
of eternal summer bring their dead here and
within the enclosure of these old walls they COM