ing day, when he is dispatched from the village under an escort of indians who watch him until far beyond the limits of the primitive settlement.
Du Roslan and myself felt a strong desire (notwithstanding the inhibition,) to visit this original community, as one of the most interesting objects of our journey; but the rest of our party objecting, we were forced to submit to the law of majorities in our wandering tribe.
I observed, that on this hacienda the proprietors have introduced all the improvements in the art of making sugar, and obtained their horizontal rollers and boiling-pans from New-York. How they reached their places over the wretched roads, must ever remain a riddle to others but Mexican teamsters; and yet, after all the immense outlay of capital, in the purchase and improvement of this property, the proprietor complains bitterly, this year, of the difficulty of selling its produce, and the general depression of the times. With roads to transport his crop to market, and with ideas beyond the back of a mule as the only means of transportation, he would not be forced to complain long of stagnant trade and trifling profits. Peace, internal improvement, and native enterprise, unmolested by fiscal legislation, are what Mexico requires; and, until she obtains them, the planter may vainly expend his fortune in mechanical improvements.
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We reached Cuernavaca about 8 o'clock, meeting on the way a number of muleteers, and Indians with their wives, returning from market. A gang of thieves, sent under a guard to the town prison, also passed us en the road.
We entered the city, through the delightful suburb of groves. The families of many of the better classes of the inhabitants were sitting under the shade of their porches, and it was impossible to avoid remarking the delicate beauty of the females.
Indolence is said to be the general characteristic of Cuernavaca; and, as in all fine climates, it is fatal to enterprise and industry. The temperature is too high for these virtues. Man wants but shade, shelter, and a gratified appetite, and there is no inducement to make the interior of dwellings either beautiful or attractive. Working in the open air fatigues—reading, within, makes them drowsy. They rise early, because it is too warm to lie in bed; they go to mass, for exercise in the cool and balmy morning air; they go to sleep after their meals, because it is too warm to walk about; and they go to vespers, to pass the time until the hour arrives for another meal, as preparatory to another nap! And this, between sleep, piety, and victuals, life passes aimlessly enough, in this region of eternal summer.
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