reached the tomb of Mexico's greatest statesman, patriot, and soldier, her Indian president, Benito Juarez. Here he lies, stretched out in majestic, marble dignity; so life-like, so realistic, as to cause a sudden thrill of awe in the beholder. It was a touching inspiration of Manuel Islas when he chiseled this sublime effigy, with the mourning figure of La Patria bending over it. Summer and winter this noble tomb is fragrant with floral offerings most gorgeous and beautiful, laid there by his grateful countrymen.
In striking contrast with the grandeur of his last resting-place was the early home of the Champion of Reform. I see it now, a simple adobe structure containing two or three rooms, without windows, their earthen floors cleanly swept, and with, perhaps, only one or two doors for the whole building. The roof was of either adobe or planks; if the latter, it was held in place by numerous stones, while climbing and clinging tenderly to the unsightly walls were tropical vines and plants which, in the profuse luxuriance of nature, covered the whole with their blossoms of gorgeous tints, finally disappearing over the housetop, and transforming the humble home into a bower of beauty. The inclosure was composed of the organ-cactus, standing like sentinels warding off all intruders.
The village of San Pablo Gueltaco reclines unevenly on a rocky spur of the Sierra Madre in the State of Oaxaca, whose shores are washed by the waters of the Pacific. The hamlet has its narrow, irregular streets, its forest trees, tropical flowers, and luscious fruits, and in the grateful shade stands the neat white church to which the devout, in undisguised simplicity and piety, repair at all hours of the day.
