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if you are an "Iolani," into Bishop's Lane-just one mile and a half from the middle of the town.

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But should you continue up the hill, you will very soon view, on your right hand, and on the left also, the large and beautiful grounds of "Nuuanu Cemetery." Just beyond this, the Royal Mausoleum-the tomb of the Kamehamehas-of King Kalakaua I., of Princesses Ruth and Likelike (Mrs. Cleghorn, sister of the late king, and mother of Princess Kaiulani, heir-apparent to the throne) of "the good: Queen Emma," who was consort of Kamehameha IV., the king who translated the English Prayer-Book into Hawaiian for his people, and Mrs. Bishop (chiefess), the last of the Kamehamehas. Now, in five miles, you can be at the Pali, about fifteen hundred feet above sea level. It is a carriage-road, after a fashion, but from about here continues to grow narrower, more steep, rugged and hard as you near the precipice. No tourist would wish to miss this scene--to miss seeing one of the most magnificent stretches of land and sea, with coloring that he could not dream of, we fancy, lying far away below him, that this world has to offer. From this road you can wind around Oahu, on horseback, if you choose.

The Pali, too, is not without its "strange, eventful history." It was here that Kamehameha I. conquered the chief of Oahu, and thus formed the islands into one kingdom. The battle took place in the spring of 1795, and the people of Oahu fought with great bravery. Many were killed by being driven over the

precipice. Bones can still be found there, if one has an aloha for such grave relics and mortal curios. "Many men, many minds." For myself, I would prefer some of the feathers of their helmets, or a bit of the chief's spear, who fought well, but was defeated! My sympathy is never for the victorious-the crowned in any kind of warfare, but for the ones who are "left." Beg your pardon, my dear reader. "This same skull, sir, was Yorick's skull, the king's jester." "Alas! poor Yorick!-I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed, I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? Your gambols? Your songs? Your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar?"

"Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher."

"There is a precipice,

That seems a fragment of some mighty wall,
Built by the hand that fashioned the old world,

To separate its nations, and thrown down

When the flood drowned them. To the north, a path
Conducts you up the narrow battlement.
Steep is the western side, shaggy and wild
With mossy trees, and pinnacles of flint,
And many a hanging crag, But, to the east,
Sheer to the vale, go down the bare old cliffs,―
Huge pillars, that, in middle heaven, upbear
Their weather-beaten capitals, here dark
With the thick moss of centuries, and there
Of chalky whiteness, where the thunderbolt
Has splintered them. It is a fearful thing

To stand upon the beetling verge, and see

Where storm and lightning, from that huge gray wall,
Have tumbled down vast blocks, and, at the base,
Dashed them in fragments; and to lay thine ear
Over the dizzy depth, and hear the sound

of winds, that struggle with the woods below,
Come up like ocean murmurs. But the scene
Is lovely round. A beautiful river there
Wanders amid the fresh and fertile meads,
The paradise He made unto himself,
Mining the soil for ages. On each side
The fields swell upward to the hills; beyond,
Above the hills, in the blue distance, rise

The mighty columns with which earth props heaven."

CHRISTMAS IN HAWAII.

“While shepherds watched their flocks by night,

All seated on the ground,

The angel of the Lord came down,

And glory shone around.

"Fear not,' said he; for mighty dread

Had seized their troubled mind;
'Glad tidings of great joy I bring
To you and all mankind.

"To you in David's town this day
Is born of David's line

A Saviour, who is Christ the Lord;
And this shall be the sign:

"The heavenly Babe you there shall find
To human view displayed,

All meanly wrapped in swathing bands,
And in a manger laid.'

"Thus spake the seraph; and forthwith
Appeared a shining throng
Of angels praising God, who thus
Addressed their joyful song:

"All glory be to God on high,

And on the earth be peace;

Good will henceforth from heaven to men
Begin and never cease.'"

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Bless me! you almost take away my breath, coming

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upon me with your rush of cold north-wind catechism! Kindly recollect, I am used to a warm belt" every hour in the three hundred and odd days of a year, and can't stand such a shock!

Do they keep Christmas in Hawaii? Well, I should think so! You cannot even fancy with what heart, and soul, and mind, and strength, and earnestness, they keep the glorious high-day and festival! On entering the Cathedral Christmas Eve, you will not be reminded by the invigorating and delightful fragrance of fir and spruce, of box and hemlock, of the mountain-sides and the pine forests, but you will see it filled with rare tropical exotics-the most delicate ferns, in "leis,”-chains, ropes, garlands, small enough for a lady's neck, or large around as your arm; in pots, in groups, in bunches, magnificent leaves of the royal palm, cocoanut, and banana; and woven in and out, flowers of richest dye and color-and oh, "maile !" May I never be forgiven by any native if I forget thee, thou queen of rarest sweetness!

Many of the ferns, and the maile, are brought from far up in the valleys; and it is a labor of love-real work, to get them. No foreigner knows how to weave and plait anything at all in such perfection as the native. They are masters of the art, and no mean one it is!

A little native boy will sit contentedly down if only he can get an armful of ferns, a bit of maile and a few red or yellow blossoms (oh, then is he too perfectly happy!). He will start a garland, and holding it be

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