I know many estimable and thinking men of New Orleans who consider that such a mode of emancipation, as would, by degrees, convert the negro slaves into free laborers, might be put into operation without much difficulty, and that all those dangerous results which people imagine are, in great measure, only fears and fancies.

I have been told that the severest slave-owners in this neighborhood are French, and I can credit it from the French popular temperament; the Scotch and the Dutch take the second place. Slaves of small and poor proprietors often suffer very much from hunger, as do also cattle. I heard to-day of one place where a considerable number of cattle had literally perished for want of food.

I have made inquiries after the Christmas dances and festivities of the negro slaves, of which I heard so much, but the sugar-harvest was late last year, and the sugargrinding was not over till after New-year's day; the cotton is still being plucked on the plantations, and the dances are deferred. I have now traveled in search of these negro festivities from one end of the slave states to the other, without having been lucky enough to meet with, to see, nay, nor even to hear of one such occasion. I believe, nevertheless, that they do occur here and there on the plantations.

For the rest, I have experienced so much kindness, have met with so many good and warm-hearted friends, that I have been both astonished and affected. I had always heard New Orleans mentioned as a very lively but not very literary city, and Mr. Lerner H. had prepared me to find that the people of New Orleans liked to see that which was beautiful. It was clear, therefore, that for that very reason they would not like to look at me; and yet they have come and come again to me, have overwhelmed me with kindness and presents, as well men as women, and made my days pleasant in many ways. For my own part, I have no other memories of New Orleans but those of pleasure and gratitude.

Octavia le V. returned home a few days ago. Those eyes, which remained dry and bright when she was in danger of losing all her ornaments and her money, overflowed with tears when she had to part from her newlyfound friend. I kissed away the tears from those pale cheeks. I feel that I am heartily attached to her.

Mrs. G. has been an incomparable friend to me at this time when I had to prepare my wardrobe for Cuba-somewhat elegant, and of a light summer texture at the same time and when I had divers little misfortunes, partly caused by the dress-maker, but principally through my own blunders. You know how annoying all such business is to me; but you can scarcely imagine how I have felt it here, where weariness both of body and mind, as well as ignorance of prices and persons in the dress-making and millinery world, rendered all my difficulties tenfold. Neither can you at all imagine how kind and amiable Mrs. G. has been during all these great little troubles -her patience, her good temper; nor, lastly, how well she has helped me with every thing. Yes-I am ashamed when I compare myself with her; but then she is one of the most amiable people I ever met with.

In the evening. I have now had my last drive with Anne W. along the beautiful cockle-shell road to Lake Pontchartrain. The air was delicious, and the sky once more gazed upon us with blue eyes from between the clouds, which parted more and more. The road, for the most part, runs through flat and still unreclaimed forestland. One does not here see our beautiful moss and lichen-covered mountains and hills, but thickets of the primeval forest, from which, on all sides, look forth those beautiful palmetto-trees, with their large, fan-like leaves waving in the air, and the regular and graceful form of many half-tropical plants, which, indicating a new phase of earth's vegetable productions, have a wonderful fascination for me.

In the morning, in the morning, my Agatha, I shall go on board the great steamer, "The Philadelphia,” and in three days I shall be at Cuba. I shall be very glad to get there, both because I shall see some new beauties of nature, and because I shall breathe a milder air, and shall escape during the winter months this variable American climate, which is so trying to my strength both of body and mind. I have become physically ten years older during this twelve months' journey in North America.

But be not afraid for me, my dear heart, but trust, as I do, that my traveling fairy, your little friend, which has hitherto conducted me safely through all perilswhich conducted me without any misadventure down the whole extent of the Mississippi to New Orleans, at the very time when four steamers, with their passengers, were blown into the air upon its waters, and caused me to remove from St. Charles's Hotel to this good home the day before the hotel became the prey of flames-the same will conduct me safe and sound once more to my own sisterfriend, to you.

P.S.-I have been gladdened here by letters from my friends in the North, the Downings, the Springs, and the Lowells. These friends accompany me like good spirits, and I must tell you so, because you must love my friends. Maria Lowell writes, the little traveling companion who went with us every where, and to Niagara, and yet which never spoke, and remained so quiet, was a little boy, who now, large, and stout, and rosy, is little Mabel's oracle. She listens to every sound he utters, and says to it all, "What does little brother mean?" Beloved, happy Maria!

Jenny Lind is now in Havana, and people speak differently of the success of her concerts. I believe, nevertheless, that she will gain the victory over her adversaries, who in reality belong to the French party in the country, and who contest her rank as a great singer. She will be

received here in New Orleans with enthusiasm ; every heart is warm, every ear open to her. She will leave Havana just when I am arriving, and it is doubtful whether I shall see her.

I am well, my beloved child, and in good spirits. God grant that you are so too! And you must be so, with the help of homeopathy. May Esculapius enlighten you and those concerned.

I shall soon write again from Cuba!

LETTER XXXII.

Havana, Cuba, Feb. 5.

SWEET CHILD! I am sitting beneath the warm, bright heavens, and the beautiful palms of the tropics, and it is lovely and wonderful! The glorious, delicious air, the beautiful palm-trees are paradisaical; the rest, I suspect, affords pleasure rather through its novelty, its dissimilarity with any thing that I have already seen, than by its own great intrinsic beauty. But the unusual and the novel are amusing and full of refreshment; so I feel it in this case, and I am delighted to be here.

I left New Orleans early in the morning of the 28th of January. It was a beautiful, sunshiny morning, and as warm as summer. My friends accompanied me on board "The Philadelphia." Lerner H. came to take leave of me, and gave me a red camellia still in bud. His frank, cordial countenance, and that of Anne W., with its pure features, and the quiet fire in the dark eyes, were the last which I saw in the saloon below deck.

When I went on deck, the Crescent city stood bathed in morning sunlight, and the water of the harbor lay like a clear mirror in its light. I stood and enjoyed the delightful air and the expansive scene, but when the ladies came with their "How do you like America?" &c., my

morning joy was disturbed; but I placed them among the goats.

We proceeded on our way, and I seated myself with a book in my hand on the piazza aft, and contemplated the shores and lived-high life. For there I could be alone, and the scenery of the shores was like a beautiful Southern fairy scene. We advanced down the Mississippi upon that arm which falls into Atchafalaya Bay, and thence into the Mexican Gulf. One plantation after another shone out upon the shore with its white houses inclosed in thickets of orange and cedar trees, flowering oleanders, aloes, and palmettoes. By degrees they were more scattered; the land descended more and more till it became one vast swamp, overgrown with grass and reeds, and without trees, shrubs, or human dwellings, yet still maintaining itself at a smooth level above the water, till finally it sunk below, but still forming within it that singular, uniform figure which is called the delta of the Mississippi, from its resemblance to the Greek letter of that name. Stems of grass still waved above the water, swayed to and fro by the waves and the wind. Then they too disappeared; the waves alone prevailed. And now the land, the vast continent of North America, lay behind me, and before me the great Gulf of Mexico, with its unfathomable depth, the Southern Sea, with its islands.

The dark blue, almost black blue color of the water struck me greatly. I was told that it is occasioned by the extreme depth. The heavens, with their soft white summer clouds, arched themselves light blue over the dark blue sea, which heaved and roared joyfully before the fresh, warm summer wind. Oh, how beautiful it was! I inhaled the breeze, and life, and rested from thought, and talk, and every thing which was not a portion of the beautiful life of the moment. The sea! the sea has in itself an inexpressibly rest-giving, healing, and regenerating power. If thou wilt commence within thyself and