to be admitted must knock at the middle door, and be prepared to answer a question, which, as it presents one of those little peculiarities which you are so fond of hearing, I shall not consider as unworthy of a place in my narrative.

The knock at the door, which, by-the-by, must be single, and by no means loud-in fact, a tradesman's knock in London-is answered with a Who is there? To this question the stranger replies, "Peaceful people:" Gente de paz-and the door is opened without further inquiries. Peasants and beggars call out at the door, Hail spotless Mary! Ave Maria purisima. The answer, in that case, is given from within in the words Sin pecado concebida: conceived without sin. This custom is a remnant of the fierce controversy, which existed, about three hundred years ago, between the Franciscan and the Dominican friars, whether the Virgin Mary had or not been subject to the penal consequences of original sin. The Dominicans were not willing to grant any exemption; while the Franciscans contended for the propriety of such a privilege. The Spaniards, and especially the Sevillians, with their characteristic gallantry, stood for the honour of our Lady, and embraced the latter opinion so warmly, that they turned the watchword of their party into the form of address, which is still so prevalent in Andalusia. During the heat of the dispute, and before the Dominicans had been silenced by the authority of the Pope, the people of Seville began to assemble at various churches, and sallying forth with an emblematical picture of the sinless Mary, set upon a sort of standard surmounted by a cross, they paraded the city in different directions, singing a hymn to the immaculate conception, and repeating aloud their beads or rosary. These processions have continued to our times, and they constitute one of the nightly nuisances of this place. Though confined at present to the lower classes, they assume that characteristic importance and overbearing spirit, which attaches to the most insignificant religious associations in this country. Wherever one of these shabby processions presents itself to the public, it takes up the street from side to side, stopping the passengers, and expecting them to stand uncovered in all kinds of weather, till the standard is gone by. These awkward and heavy banners are called, at Seville, Sinpecados, that is sinless, from the theological opinion in whose support they were raised.

The Spanish government, under Charles III., showed the most ludicrous eagerness to have the sinless purity of the Virgin Mary added by the Pope to the articles of the Roman Catholic faith. The court of Rome, however, with the cautious spirit, which has at all times guided its spiritual politics, endeavoured to keep clear from a stretch of authority, which, even some of their own divines would be ready to question; but splitting, as it were, the difference with theological precision, the censures of

the church were levelled against such as should have the boldness to assert that the Virgin Mary had derived any taint from "her great ancestor;" and, having personified the immaculate conception, it was declared, that the Spanish dominions in Europe and America were under the protecting influence of that mysterious event. This declaration diffused universal joy over the whole nation. It was celebrated with public rejoicings on both sides of the Atlantic. The king instituted an order under the emblem of the immaculate conception-a woman dressed in white and blue; and a law was enacted, requiring a declaration, upon oath, of a firm belief in the immaculate conception, from every individual, previous to his taking any degree at the universities, or being admitted into any of the corporations, civil and religious, which abound in Spain. This oath is administered even to mechanics upon their being made free of a Guild.

Here, however, I must break off, for fear of making this packet too large for the confidential conveyance, which alone I could trust without great risk of finishing my task in one of the cells of the Holy Inquisition. I will not fail, however, to resume my subject as soon as circumstances will permit me. Yours, &c. LEUCADIO DOBLADO.

JONATHAN KENTUCKY'S JOURNAL.

WHILE the mania for visiting distant countries extends so widely, and we hear nothing but descriptions of foreign wonders, we may be tempted, from time to time, to give a few extracts from the Journal of Mr. Jonathan Kentucky, an American visiter to our own capital, who has favoured us with his correspondence; not because we think there is much novelty of remark, or profundity of observation, in what he records, but because it is always interesting to see how the habits, manners, and passing events, of our own country strike the imagination of a foreigner; and, if that foreigner be but endowed with a moderate portion of good sense, and will be content to set down only what appears to him to be really remarkable, the perusal can scarcely fail to afford us both amusement and instruction. We do not mean to say that this is always the case with Mr. Jonathan Kentucky; for he is often unnecessarily minute, and oftener still wearies us with long laudatory digressions upon American superiority, which have no sort of connexion with the subject under discussion, and which, however interesting on the other side of the Atlantic, we will spare our readers the task of perusing, and ourselves of exposing. Thus we are convinced Mr. Kentucky himself, when he has been some time longer amongst us, will thank us for suppressing the long and

laboured account of his first arrival in our metropolis, and the extravagant panegyric, which he indulges upon Philadelphia and the Delaware at the expense of the Thames and London. We have taken the liberty of exercising a similar discretion on other occasions; and indeed we should recommend to Mr. K. the same rule, which was, we believe, given to Robertson the historian, by Johnson; and that is, to read over the next portion of his journal before he sends it to us, and, whenever he comes to a passage that he thinks particularly fine, to strike it out. This will save him some disappointment, and us much trouble; for, as it is, we fear he will hardly recognise his own contributions in our mutilated edition of them. We will plunge at once in medias res-into the twentieth page of his journal, and begin with his visit to the Bank of England.

1st Feb. 1821.-Visit to the Bank; under the auspices of Mr. T. How Mr. T., who belongs to that sect, which is in his country denominated evangelical, can reconcile contradictions, and serve at once both God and Mammon-for the Bank might well stand for the very temple of Mammon-is his concern and not mine. This monstrous establishment contains a thousand persons in constant employment under its roof; and in the late war it marshalled its forces, and established them as a reigment, under the name of The Bank Volunteers. There are no less than sixty signing clerks, at a salary of 300l. per annum to each. This enormous expense of 18,000l. a year, will, it is said, be saved by the new note, in which the signature is to be stamped by machinery. The whole process of printing the notes, &c. &c. is carried on within the walls of the Bank. Here, too, are all the separate offices, where the business, connected with the public funds, and the payment of the dividends, is transacted. Many of these are at once elegant and commodious, and the more modern do credit to the architectural talents of Mr. Soane. There is no plate of a higher amount than a thousand pounds-the largest printed note in circulation. All notes paid into the Bank are immediately cancelled, by tearing off the signature, and afterwards deposited and preserved for twenty years; as a matter of public accommodation, in case their aid should be required as evidence in any pecuniary transaction. The descent into the subterraneous receptacle, where long ranges of wooden boxes full of these ragged relics are piled up one upon another, reminded us of the catacombs at Paris; and here

Each in its narrow cell for ever laid,

The sons and daughters of corruption sleep!

As one of the curiosities of the place, we were shown the thousand pound note, in which Lord Cochrane paid his fine, on the back of which he had written as follows:

My health having suffered by long and close confinement, and my oppressors being resolved to deprive me of property or life, I submit to robbery to protect myself from murder, in the hope that I may yet live to bring the delinquents to justice." "COCHRANE."

In the bullion department, there was a profusion of gold ingots, and sixty-ounce pieces; which last were about the size of a large cake of Windsor soap, and almost tempted one to utter an exclamation against the obligations of the eighth commandment. Large heaps of Spanish dollars, in a bigger and baser coin, scarcely excited attention by the side of these golden treasures. Familiarity may, as in the case of grocers and figs, produce a similar indifference in the guardians of these vaults; but I should, at least, advise the directors to subject visiters to the dancing exercise, which Zadig records in his history of the election of King Rabussan's treasurer.

In the treasurer's office were piles of bags, containing a thousand sovereigns in each; and I was not aware before, how inconvenient it would be to carry such a sum about one's person. We next tasted of the punishment of Tantalus, by having a small bundle of notes put into our hands, amounting to nearly three millions, which we passed from one to another with the usual variety of intonation, of which the wondering exclamation of "Dear me !" admits.

The Bank also possesses a most extensive collection of coins, ancient and modern; and not the least curiosity of the place is a complete set of "The London Gazette," from the period of its first commencement, in the reign of Charles the Second, when, by-the-by, it was called "The Oxford Gazette," where the Court then was, on account of the plague being in London.

So much for the Bank of England,-which it is difficult to quit without a word upon the bullion question, that has so long divided the political economists of this country. Mr. Cobbett tells his readers, he will be broiled alive if the Bank ever pays in cash; and he contends, that there will be an universal run to Threadneedle-street, to change paper into gold, on the 1st of May. Here, perhaps, he is wrong. If people have now the power of buying gold in the market with Bank paper at the rate of sl. 178. per ounce, which they might take to the Mint, and get converted into coin without any additional expense, and yet do not exercise this power, what reason is there to suppose that a greater anxiety will prevail to obtain the same end, by a more expensive process, after the 1st of May? I guess there is more foundation for another of his assertions ;-namely, that if cash payments are resumed, the interest of the debt must be reduced; but time will so soon solve this question, that it is unnecessary to dwell upon it longer at present.

3d Feb.-Covent Garden Theatre. An English theatre is so much like our own, that there is scarcely any thing to remind an American he is not in his own country. The theatrical art is said to be on the decline. The present is not, I believe, a theatrical age; and in the arts, as in every thing else, if there be little demand, there will be as little supply. In England the play is no longer the fashion, and the power of fashion is in this kingdom more absolutely paramount than that of their boasted acts of parliament, which, as it has been said, can do any thing but make a man a woman, or a woman a man. The increasing interest of politics, the duties of parliamentary attendance, and the complete revolution that has taken place in hours, have all conspired to detach the beau-monde from the play-houses. The resident population of London is said to be the least theatrical in the kingdom, and the audiences are generally made up of the floating mass of visiters, many of whom, like myself, are turned out in the evening to find a resource in the glare and glitter of the theatre, from the tædium and ennui of a coffee-house. Again-the squeamishness of modern taste has banished the productions of the best comic writers; and, if the stage is dull, it is often in consequence of its obligation to be decent. The laws, which have vested a monopoly in the hands of the two great London theatres, have also mainly contributed to effect this degradation of the national drama. The immensity of their scale, which, however, is not more than necessary, if all London is to be squeezed into two houses, has wrought a great change in the art of acting. The performer is now obliged to colour all the passions higher, and must adjust the tones of his voice, and the expression of his features, not according to the standard of nature, but that they may produce an effect upon the eyes and ears of persons half a mile off;-so that the one necessarily rises into bawling, and the other into grimace. If it were not for this monopoly, which operates as a check upon improvement, the theatres would have long since undergone a change to accommodate the quality, and the period of their entertainments to the shifting fashion of the day. There is a manifest unfitness in continuing to enclose boxes, pit, and gallery, under the same roof;-but this again is one of the evils arising out of the monopoly. Each rank would be better entertained in a separate house. As it is, there is too much for the money. The entertainment lasts too long. The play, which is what the boxes wish to see, begins so early, that dinner must be sacrificed in order to be present at the commencement. The after-piece, which is rather intended for the gallery, endures much too long for persons, who ought to be up early again in the morning in pursuit of their daily avocations. The industrious classes, then, who go to the play as an occasional recreation,