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but there was no reply, after which the dying chief proceeded, "Now let my last work on earth be this: We will read a chapter of the Book, verse about, and then I will pray for you all, and the Missi will pray for me, and God will let me go while the song is still sounding in my heart."

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DEATH, CHEERFULNESS BEFORE

The following is a glimpse of Maximilian on the day of his execution:

Miramon slept three hours; he then arose, drank a cup of chocolate, and drest himself with care; at six o'clock he was ready to start, accompanied by a priest, M. Ladron de Guevara. In the corridor he found Maximilian bidding his lawyer, Eulalio Ortega, farewell. The sun was already high in the heavens, and his warm beams shot down brilliantly on the Quaretaro Valley; flashes of sunlight penetrated into the narrow courtyard of the convent. "What a splendid day, Don Eulalio!" said Maximilian; "it is on such a day as this I should have chosen to die." A few bugle-notes were heard, and Maximilian, not knowing how to interpret them, questioned Miramon: "Miguel, will that be for the execution?" "I have not the slightest idea, sire; it will be the first time I shall ever have been shot." This reply brought a smile to the Emperor's lips.—Paris Figaro.

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The officer in command of the file of execution approached Maximilian and asked his pardon for having to fulfil his duty. The Emperor distributed several pieces of gold bearing his effigy to the soldiers, recommending them not to aim at his face. He then embraced the Generals Mejia and Miramon, and, as the latter had placed himself on his right, he said to him aloud: "Brave men should be respected by their sovereigns to the brink of the grave. General, pass to the place of honor." Miramon stept to the center. Then, with a firm voice, the Emperor addrest the crowd: "Mexicans! Men of my race and origin are born either to make a people's happiness or to be martyrs. God grant that my blood may be the last shed for the redemption of this unhappy country. Long live Mexico!" Immediately General Miramon, at the top of his voice, as when he commanded his troops on the battle-field, cried: "Mexicans! Before the court-martial my defenders only sought to save my life. At the moment I am about to appear before my God I protest against the name of traitor, which they have thrown in my face to justify my condemnation. Let this spot of infamy be removed from my children's name, and God grant that my country may be happy. Long live Mexico!" General Mejia raised his eyes toward the heavens: "Very Holy Mother, I beseech thy Son to pardon me, as I pardon those who are about to sacrifice me." A volley rung out from the file of soldiers, and amidst the cloud of smoke, which slowly drifted away, Maximilian appeared writhing convulsively in a pool of blood, and groaning, "Hay Hombre!"—Paris Figaro.

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DEATH, CHRISTIAN ATTITUDE TOWARD

Prof. G. Currie Martin points out the difference between the Christian and the unchristian views of death.

In the old days, when the plague swept over Italy, the ladies and gentlemen of fashion used sometimes to withdraw into some beautiful country residence, with its surrounding park, and behind its high walls shut themselves off from all thought of the misery and sorrow that surrounded them. Death, they imagined, could no longer reach them, until suddenly the spectral figure stalked into their midst, no one knew whence, and the false safety was shattered at a blow. The power of Christianity is found in the fact that it can say such brave and hopeful words about life, while all the time it is perfectly conscious of death. (Text.)

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DEATH, CHRISTIAN VIEW OF

Death, ever present all the world over—how softened his grim visage is when associated with the name of Jesus, how awful when he appears alone. The writer still recalls one summer long ago, May, 1889, when funeral preparations were being made before a neighboring house. He made inquiry of An, his host: "I didn't know that there was a death." "Yes, the master of the house is dead; they will bury him." "But when did he die? To-day when we were out?" "No, no, not to-day. He died before you came." I had been there two months. They had a bier ornamented with dragons' heads, painted in wild colors, that suggested skull and cross-bones. The funeral service was a fearful row; everybody was noisy, many were weeping, many were drunk. A