This drive
usually lasts for an hour, and all sorts of vehicles are shown off,
from the governor's coach and six, surrounded by his lancers, to the
sorry chaise and limping nag. The carriage most used is a four-wheeled
biloche, with a gig top, quite low, and drawn by two horses, on one
of which is a postilion; these vehicles are exceedingly comfortable
for two persons. The horses are small, but spirited, and are said
to be able to undergo great fatigue, although their appearance
does not promise it. This drive is enlivened by the music of the
different regiments, who are at this time to be seen manoeuvering on
the Prado. The soldiers have a very neat and clean appearance; great
attention is paid to them, and the whole are well appointed. The force
stationed in Manila is six thousand, and the army in the Philippines
amounts to twenty thousand men. The officers are all Spaniards,
generally the relations and friends of those in the administration
of the government. The pay of the soldiers is four dollars a month,
and a ration, which is equal to six cents a day. As troops I was told,
they acquitted themselves well. The Prado is laid out in many avenues,
leading in various directions to the suburbs, and these are planted
with wild almond trees, which afford a pleasant shade. It is well kept,
and creditable to the city.

In passing the crowds of carriages very little display of female
beauty is observed, and although well-dressed above, one cannot but
revert to their wearing no stockings beneath.

On the Prado is a small theatre, but so inferior that the building
scarce deserves the name: the acting was equally bad. This amusement
meets with little encouragement in Manila and, I was told, was
discountenanced by the Governor.

[A tertulia.] I had the pleasure during our stay of attending a
tertulia in the city. The company was not a large one, comprising
some thirty or forty ladies and about sixty gentlemen. It resembled
those of the mother country. Dancing was introduced at an early hour,
and continued till a few minutes before eleven o'clock, at which
time the gates of the city are always shut. It was amusing to see
the sudden breaking up of the party, most of the guests residing out
of the city. The calling for carriages, shawls, hats, etc., produced
for a few minutes great confusion, every one being desirous of getting
off at the earliest moment possible, for fear of being too late. This
regulation, by which the gates