he business of
life could not fare equally well with public opinion as Hamilton has
fared with it, who advocated corruption in government as a means to a
national power.

I went to Dorothy with my plan about Cuba, telling her that Douglas had
gone there. It stirred her languid spirits. She was all eagerness to
start. We took passage from New York, sailing around Florida, at last
around Morro Castle into the harbor of Havana. The blueness of the
water, with the balmy wind blowing almost incessantly began to restore
Dorothy. The Spanish city lying before our eyes, yellow and continental,
awoke her interest. At the dock there were crowds of idlers, Spaniards,
negroes, to see us fasten and disembark. With Dorothy and our son and
two maids we made our way to a hotel near the water. I was anxious to
look up Douglas; but it was impossible the first evening, owing to
Dorothy's indisposition. She had been seasick and the journey had
fatigued her. Nevertheless we went to the roof of the hotel together
and sat there until nearly midnight, inhaling the luxurious breeze from
the gulf and gazing up at the brilliant stars of this tropical sky.

The next morning I was down to breakfast early, leaving Dorothy to be
served in her room. The hotel was drab and decayed exteriorly; but the
dining room was a continental elegance of marble, gilt, and mirrors.
Douglas was not stopping here, as I had already learned. I concluded
that he would be at one of the better known hotels on the Prado, and I
hurried thither as fast as I could. I soon located him; but he had gone
out for a few days, was making something of a tour of the island,
including a visit to the celebrated cave of Matanzas. Leaving a note for
Douglas which apprised him of my hotel, I hurried back to Dorothy. The
city was so brilliant under the golden sunshine, and the air so
delightful, that I wished to spend these wonderful hours in seeing the
city.

Havana was as novel to me as to Dorothy. It was Spanish, therefore
having no resemblance to London or any other English town. It seemed to
me to be about the size that New York was in 1833. We spent three days
driving through the Paso de Paula, along the Malecon, up and down the
Prado lined with laurels and distinguished for fine houses and clubs. We
visited the parks, the Exchange, the old churches, the navy yard, La
Fueza, built by De Soto, the old markets of Colon and Tacon, the Palace;
and we stood in the Cathedral before the me