accept it. All my protests were in vain; I really became afraid of admiring anything.
I must now bid adieu to the kind F.'s and S.'s, and then conclude some letters.
The next time I write it will be from the United States. I have inhaled new life in Cuba; but I could not live there. I could only live where a life of freedom exists and grows.
LETTER XXXVII.
LETTER TO HER MAJESTY, CAROLINA AMELIA,
QUEEN DOWAGER OF DENMARK.
Your Majesty.—“Write to me from America!” were your Majesty's last kind words to me at parting, when I had the pleasure of seeing your Majesty at Sorgenfri. And these words have accompanied me on my long journey, as one of the beautiful and precious memories for which I have to thank good Denmark; because they remind me of the great kindness which the Queen of Denmark showed to me. I have wished to obey them by presenting to your Majesty, from the soil of the New World, some very beautiful spiritual flowers, not unworthy of those roses which your Majesty's own beautiful hand gave me, at the moment of parting, from your Majesty's garden. But it was long before I found sufficient freedom of mind, or tranquillity to be able to put together, from the rich Flora of America, anything resembling a bouquet or a garland which it seemed to me could give pleasure to your Majesty, and with less I would not be satisfied.
I now write, beautiful and good Queen of Denmark, from the Queen of the Antilles, from the beautiful tropical Isla de Cuba. And whilst a glowing sun ascends over
