by knowledge, by long-suffering; ... by honor and dishonor; by
evil report and good report; as deceivers and yet true; as unknown, and
yet well known; as dying, and behold we live; as chastened, and not
killed; as sorrowful, and yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many
rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing all things."

VIII.

MATANZAS

As there are no plantations to be seen near Havana, I determine to go
down to Matanzas, near which the sugar plantations are in full tide of
operation at this season. A steamer leaves here every night at ten
o'clock, reaching Matanzas before daylight, the distance by sea being
between fifty and sixty miles.

Took this steamer to-night. She got under way punctually at ten o'clock,
and steamed down the harbor. The dark waters are alive with
phosphorescent light. From each ship that lies moored, the cable from
the bows, tautened to its anchor, makes a run of silver light. Each
boat, gliding silently from ship to ship, and shore to shore, turns up a
silver ripple at its stem, and trails a wake of silver behind; while the
dip of the oar-blades brings up liquid silver, dripping, from the opaque
deep. We pass along the side of the two-decker, and see through her
ports the lanterns and men; under the stern of one frigate, and across
the bows of another (for Havana is well supplied with men-of-war); and
drop leisurely down by the Cabana, where we are hailed from the rocks;
and bend round the Morro, and are out on the salt, rolling sea. Having a
day of work before me, I went early to my berth, and was waked up by the
letting off of steam, in the lower harbor of Matanzas, at three o'clock
in the morning. My fellow-passengers, who sat up, said the little
steamer tore and plunged, and jumped through the water like a thing that
had lost its wits. They seemed to think that the Cuban engineer had got
a machine that would some day run away with him. It was, certainly, a
very short passage.

We passed a good many vessels lying at anchor in the lower harbor of
Matanzas, and came to anchor about a mile from the pier. It was clear,
bright moonlight. The small boats came off to us, and took us and our
luggage ashore. I was landed alone on a quay, carpet-bag in hand, and
had to guess my way to the inn, which was near the water-side. I beat on
the big, close-barred door; and a sleepy Negro, in time, opened it. Mine
host was up, expecting passengers, and after waiting on the very tardy