Part 5

A report reaches us through a Greek paper of the accidental discovery, in the island of Syros, of three graves, the structure and contents of which would point to a very early prehistoric date. It was during the digging for the foundations of a new building in the town of Hermonopolis that these graves were brought to light. The vessels found in them are in good preservation, and are, with one exception, of wood or earthenware, and this exception is a vase of metal, in which are the ashes of a dead man. The other graves also exhibit, without any exception, unburned bones, thus showing a curious combined system of ordinary burial and cremation, the bones in the vase having been burned, and the others not so. Votive offerings were placed about the skeletons in every case, those which were apparently of the greatest value being found in the dead men’s hands. It is to be hoped that the vessels may be secured for the Athens Museum, already so rich with many such curious relics. This Museum has been lately enriched with the remains of the pediment sculptures of the Temple of Athene Alea at Tegea. These precious fragments, consisting of two heads of youths and one head of a boar, are the only pieces of sculpture which can be affirmed, with confidence, to be the work of Scopas; and it is a satisfaction to know that archæologists and antiquaries who desire to view the relics of highly refined art of past ages, may see them in this Museum without the trouble of going to Tegea. It is also reported that the missing half of one of the other heads lately discovered has been found, and is now safe in the same Museum. Another exquisitely beautiful head of a female, found some years ago at Lerna, has been procured for the National Museum, thanks to the zeal and energy of the Director, Dr Kabbadias. The head is life-size, of Parian marble, and evidently, from the flat unworked state of the back, formed part of a group in high relief, and dates probably from the third century before Christ. The learned are in much doubt as to whom the head is intended to represent, many inclining to the opinion that it is Demeter, from its charming expression and pathetic beauty; but as no part of the figure remains, this is, after all, mere speculation.

METROPOLITAN PUBLIC GARDENS’ ASSOCIATION.

North, south, east, and west, the growth of London proceeds rapidly. Not only is the city’s area increased, but the brick and mortar maze of which it consists tends to grow denser and denser, as the nice arts of surveyor and architect combine to wrest from space its fullest building possibilities. And hence springs a great evil. Fresh air and light—necessary conditions of healthy life—are meted out to the population with an ever-increasing meagreness. But, happily, counteracting influences have now existed for some time. A notable one is embodied in a philanthropic Association, which spends a considerable income and great activity in obtaining for the people of London open spaces, or gardens, and other machinery for recreation. Old churchyards and other disused burial-grounds, inclosed squares, and vacant plots of ground of all sorts, are the ‘prey’ of the Metropolitan Public Gardens’ Association. Finding them, it at once agitates obstinately for their consecration to public use. Parochial and ecclesiastical local authorities, and in some cases private individuals, are appealed to, to devote the land to the desired purpose—the Association offering to lay out the inclosure at its own expense, and provide the necessary implements, plants, mould, drains, seats, &c., or making such overtures as the individual circumstances of the case may justify. Though securing public recreation-grounds is the chief aim of the Association, it adopts other means for promoting the health and physical well-being of the people. Thus it agitates for the establishment of gymnasia in elementary schools, and for the opening of school playgrounds during all but scholastic hours to the children of the surrounding locality; it plants trees and places seats in the wilder thoroughfares; it uses its influence to obtain the erection of baths and washhouses; and, collecting reliable information respecting all the poorer districts of the metropolis, it directs public attention to overcrowding and other social evils. Since the Association’s formation in 1882, it has succeeded in eighty-three of its efforts to provide public recreation-grounds, &c., disbursing in the work £8595, 15s. 5d. Lord Brabazon is the chairman, Miss I. M. Gladstone, the honorary Secretary, and Miss F. Wilkinson, the landscape gardener of the Association, the address of which is 83 Lancaster Gate, London, W.

‘MISSING.’

’Twas after Talavera, on an evening dark and gray; We had returned from the fight, after a bloody day; And we called the muster over; but one answered not the call: ’Twas the youngest, and the noblest, and the bravest of us all. He had dared the direst dangers of that dread and dear-bought day, For he had been the foremost in the fury of the fray; But a solemn silence answered when we called him on the roll, And we knew that we had lost him—and that heaven had gained a soul.

The night was closing chill and dim, and stars were in the sky, When forth we went to look for him—the battle-field was nigh; The moon shone out to aid us in our grim and ghostly quest, As we turned the brave men over that were lying there—at rest. Where the fight had waxed the fiercest, on the margin of the field, We found him, grasping hard the sword he never more might wield! There was glory on his visage, like a rosy light, or flood, Though his golden hair was dabbled with his swiftly-flowing blood.

Oh, rev’rently we lifted him, and wiped away the stain That marred the bright young forehead, where a mother’s kiss had lain. We loosed the things about his breast, but turned aside—for there We saw a maiden’s picture, and a tender lock of hair! He was not dead: he strove to smile; he lifted up his hands— But Death had turned the hour-glass, and was counting out the sands! We were rough and hardened soldiers, and we could not mourn, because He was dying for his country—like the hero that he was.

We laid him on the litter; but he neither spoke nor moved; And tenderly we bore him to the comrades that he loved. He was dead long ere we laid him on the mossy patch of ground— But we hoped he did not suffer—for he died without a sound! We have bled in many a battle, we have fought in many a fray, But that night at Talavera is as fresh as yesterday; And _his_ name upon the muster-roll in fancy oft we call, For we loved him, as the noblest and the bravest of us all.

NANNIE POWER O’DONOGHUE.

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