with the highest admiration, a piece of embroidery in colors, which I happened to be holding in my hands. After gazing at it for some time, without looking at me or asking my permission, they lifted it from my lap, with as much indifference, as if my knees had been a work-table, took up alternately, my wools, thimble and scissors, which they handled and examined, without bestowing the slightest attention upon the owner, until, finally, one of them ran away with the embroidery. I was about despatching my companion to see what had become of it, when she brought it back, after having shown it to her fellow-travellers in the cabin. Another group of women now appeared, and one of them, without any preamble, asked me if I was a French woman. On my answering in the affirmative, she replied: "We never see any of your country women here: do they all resemble you? We like you very much." She then went to look for her husband, and stationed him before me bolt upright, like a sentry at his post,-showing me to him as she would have done some strange bird. What do you think of these women of the West with their wild curiosity, their odd manners, their artless simplicity? I must say, that I find a sort of old-fashioned cordiality about them, which is really quite delightful."

Our brilliant and piquant New-York belles will find it as difficult to know themselves in these "wild women of the West," as our Worcestor's and Woodbridge's, the Countess's Hudson, in his somewhat erratic course through the Alleghany mountains. Many of the Countess's remarks upon the political institutions of this country, and the general aspect of society would afford nearly as fair a scope for criticism, as the passages which have been quoted; but without dwelling upon this part of the work, we hasten to accompany our author to the Havana, where she is at home, and appears to much more advantage. It may be proper, however, to add, that the correctness of many of her obser vations even upon her own island, has been much questioned by very intelligent writers for the Havana press: and we incline to the opinion, that so far as the statements given, rest exclusively upon her own authority, they are more val uable for the elegance and vivacity of the style than for the strict accuracy of the substance. The portions of the work which are most important, under the latter point of view, are, in general, founded on materials furnished from authentic sources, and can easily be distinguished from the native product by the gravity of tone and other internal evidence of substantial correctness. It is chiefly to these parts that we shall invite the reader's attention,-beginning, however, with some pictures of the physical aspect of the island, and

of the state of society, which we probably owe to the pencil of the fair author.

On the 25th of May, 1840, the Countess embarked at New-York, for Havana, and after a voyage of the usual length, the incidents of which, though not in themselves of much interest,—are described in a very graphic and amusing style, came in sight of the coast of Cuba, in about the longitude of Matanzas. She dwells with enthusiasm, upon the beauty and softness of the tropical climate:

"I am perfectly delighted. Ever since the morning, I have been breathing this warm, voluptuous, tropical air. The sun, the stars, appear to be larger and more brilliant, the heavens deeper and clearer. The clouds float about apparently just above our heads, reflecting all the colors of the rainbow, and the space in which they move, seems to sparkle with a sort of yellow lustre, as if it were powdered with gold dust. I weep sometimes like a child, and at others, I am wild with joy. How delightful it is, my dear daughter, to be able to associate with the recollections of a happy infancy, and of those whom we loved at that enchanting season, the spectacle of a rich and variegated landscape! During the night, we have passed the Bahama banks, and are now quietly pursuing our way over the Gulf of Mexico. Already we perceive the Pan of Matanzas, the highest of our mountains, and beyond it, the city of the same name, peopled by twelve thousand inhabitants, and surrounded by numerous sugarplantations. At some distance, and nearer to the coast, I discover the village of Puerto Escondido, with its comical cottages thatched with palm leaves, and its groves of bananas. We are now in front of the city of Santa Cruz, which took its name from one of my ancestors: the next is Jaruco, which gives their title to my family. We leave behind us, the dismantled castle of La Fuerza, and now we are before the Moro:-we turn to the left: a few fathoms more, and we enter the port of Havana."

The appearance of the city from the port is, described with great correctness and spirit.

"This is Havana, with its balconies, awnings, and terr. ces: its pretty one-story citizen's houses, with their broad portes cochères and immense grated windows. Doors and windows are all open: the eye penetrates the whole interior of domestic life, from the flowers in the well-watered court to the daughter's bed, with its white muslin curtains tied with rose-colored ribbands. Then come the aristocratic two story houses, surrounded by galleries, hung with green curtains. Among them is my father's. As we advance, the balconies are filled with people who have come out to see and salute us. In the crowd, I perceive colored girls in muslin dresses, without shoes or stockings, carrying in their arms, infants as white as swans. Young ladies, pale and delicately formed, traverse lightly the long galleries, with their black hair falling in ringlets, and their thin, transparent robes floating in the breeze. Here is a balcony extending farther towards

the port, where every one is stretching out his arms and waving his handkerchief, as if he were anxious to be the first one seen. This is the residence of my uncle Count Montalvo. We pass along before the wharves, covered with a motley crowd of all colors, white, black and mixed some drest in white pantaloons, white vests and large straw hats; some in a short pair of striped drawers, with a madras handkerchief, twisted round the head; others, in felt caps, with a red sash tied knowingly round the waist: all pressing, pushing and perspiring. Here are barrels, boxes and baskets, tumbled together pellmell on the quai, or piled on carts to be drawn to the ware-houses. They are all full of coffee, sugar, cocoa, vanilla, camphor or indigo. In the midst of the whole, the merry blacks are shouting and singing at the top of their voices, for they never work without the accompaniment of a regular song. Every thing is in motion, and the transparency of the air seems to give more clearness to sounds, as well as more brilliancy to the light."

The port of Havana is one of the best in the world. It has a very narrow entrance, but spreads immediately into a vast basin, embracing the whole city, and large enough to hold a thousand ships of war. To make the entrance still narrower, two ships have been sunk in the passage. On the point at the left of this defile, stands the Moro Castle, and a little beyond on the same side, a much more extensive and important work, called the Cabanas, which the Countess does not mention. On the point opposite the Moro, stands another fort called the Punta. There is a fourth work on the same side upon a height overlooking the city, and a fifth at the bottom of the harbor. All these defences, excepting the Moro, have been constructed since the English took the city in 1762. It is now as well secured, as it probably could be, against an attack from the harbor, but could still be assailed with effect, in the same way in which the French succeeded against Algiers, by landing a sufficient force in the rear. The Countess has singularly misrepresented the circumstances of the taking of the city by the English. She describes them as entering the harbor at mid-day and seizing upon the city by surprise, while the inhabitants were enjoying their siesta. In reality, the siege was one of the most bloody and obstinate on record; but we have no room here for particulars.

The Countess is received with great cordiality by her family connexions, and particularly, her uncle Count Montalvo, who takes her home with him. The description of his honse will give an idea of the best class of dwellings:

"The house of my uncle is very large. It encloses a square court

round which, runs a broad gallery, secured from the weather by curtains. This gallery is used as the dining-room for the greater freshness of the air, and because the family is so large, that it would be difficult to make the necessary arrangements in any of the rooms. The ordinary repast has the appearance of an entertainment, and when a few guests are invited, the dinner often costs three or four thousand dollars. The wealthy families employ French cooks, and combine upon their tables, all the Parisian refinements, with the simpler luxuries belonging to their own climate. Fruits and vegetables are, in general, preferred to meats. I can hardly tell you with how much pleasure I feasted, after so long an interval, upon our delicate and downy caimitos,-our delicious zapotillos, our mameyes, which the native inhabitants of the island supposed to be the food of the blessed in a better world, and our mamones, which seem to combine in their taste, all the perfumes of the garden of Eden. One day, while I was enjoying these dainties, my aunt offered me a supreme de volaclle, which, I assure you, I declined without hesitation. Large as it is, the house will hardly contain the family and servants. There are ten children, as many grand-children, and more than a hundred blacks in attendance at the house. My aunt treats them with the greatest indulgence, so that, excepting at meal-times, you may see the women stretched upon their straw-mats, in all quarters, singing, talking and combing each other's hair. Every evening, since I arrived, there has been a brilliant party at my uncle's house. The men walk about the long galleries, which are lighted with wax candles, or crystal lustres, hung from the ceiling,-smoking and talking on business or gallantry! The ladies, seated in a circle in their armchairs, fan themselves most industriously, although the sea-breeze sweeps through the open balconies with such force as to shake the doors and windows. At the first stroke of the evening bell called the Angelus, conversation ceases: every one rises and repeats a prayer: the members of the family kiss each other: the children go to their parents and receive their blessing: after which, all resume their seats and the conversation is renewed."

In the arrangements of an Havana household, the indispensable volante is not to be overlooked. This is the only carriage used in the city, and is commonly placed on one side of the porte-cochère. It is a sort of cabriolet, with a low body and two immense wheels, drawn by a single horse, or more commonly mule, and driven by a colored postilion, who is attired in a rich parti-colored livery with jack-boots. The extraordinary size of the wheels, the length of the shafts, and the singular costume of the postilion, give the whole equipage a very odd appearance. Every family in easy circumstances keeps at least one, and every large family several of these vehicles, which stand all day in the court ready for use. The volante has a curtain in front, which, when drawn, protects with its folds-according to the Countess-the cou

ple within, who may wish to avoid observation. She does not seem to recollect, that the etiquette of the place strictly prohibits a lady from driving in her volante with any gentleman, excepting a near family connexion. At six o'clock the volantes are all in requisition for the promenade. The ladies, with their hair fully dressed and ornamented with natural flowers,-the gentlemen in dress coats and white under clothes, all perfectly neat and fresh, set forth,-each in his or her carriage,-for the Paseo Tacon. Returning from the promenade, they drive to the Plaza de Armas,—a public square in front of the Governor's palace,-where a band of music plays an hour or two every evening. The imposing architecture of the buildings that surround this square, including the palaces of the Governor and Intendant, the enclosure, planted with orange trees and a variety of other tropical plants, in the centre, the splendor of the lights, the crowd of carriages and well-dressed people,-all set off to the best advantage by the transparent clearness of a tropical sky, and the accompaniment of a first-rate band of music,-render this altogether a very brilliant scene. Ladies commonly make their purchases at this time of the day,stopping in their volantes at the doors of the shops, from which the articles they wish to examine are brought to them by the shopmen. No lady at the Havana ever enters a shop to make a purchase, or appears on foot in the streets. The latter restriction is almost a necessary result of the condition of the streets, which are generally narrow, without sidewalks and filled up with carriages, and in wet weather nearly impassable.

In addition to various passages respecting them, scattered through other parts of the work, the women of the Havana are made the subject of an entire letter,-addressed, rather inappropriately, perhaps, to one, who seems rather to emulate the attributes of the other sex, and is here qualified as George Sand. It is hardly necessary to add, that this is the assumed name of a somewhat notorious French novel-writer, properly called Madame Dudevant :

"The Havana lady," says the Countess, "is of the middle height and slender, but elegantly formed. Her hands and feet are as small and delicate as those of a child. She wears the finest satin slippers with scarcely any soles, which, luckily, are never destined to touch the street. They attach great importance to this article of dress, and, I assure you, were not a little scandalized at finding in one of my trunks a pair of morocco shoes! 'Jesus Maria!' exclaimed my aunt,