in Spain; the idea of a man, his wife, and family, spending a day, or even part of a day, without company, appears to them so unnatural, that they can scarcely believe it to be our practice. Their widely different system has, however, some recommendations. Young people enter life with a greater degree of confidence; in whatever society they are placed they feel perfectly easy, and acquire a fluency in conversation, and a style of manners, which gives them a species of currency through life. These, so far as I can judge, are the advantages, the only advantages, of this system. In England, our youth are kept in the back ground till they have acquired more years, and accumulated a greater store of knowledge, and even then they neither mix so frequently, nor so indiscriminately, in company as in Spain; they are less calculated to strike at first; they are more embarrassed in society, but they attain in retirement, and in the domestic circles of well-regulated families, a series of reflections and habits, and a course of conduct, which has hitherto elevated, and, I hope, will ever continue to elevate, the character of English gentlemen. The university of Seville is almost solely appropriated to the education of the clergy: the course of study occupies five years, which are principally devoted to the acquirement of the Latin language, the knowledge of civil law, the philosophy of Aristotle, and scholastic divinity. Scarcely any improvement has been in troduced within the last four hundred years; the philosophy of Bacon, Locke, and Newton, is utterly unknown to either professors or pupils. The war has considerably lessened the number of students, as a large portion has entered into the army. They do not reside within the university, but have private lodgings in different parts of the city. The education of the females of the best families, is, if possible, still worse. They are early sent to a convent as pensioners, and, under the care of some of the aged nuns, are instructed in reading, writing, and needle-work, but especially in the outward forms of religion. They are usually kept in these houses of seclusion till they arrive at a proper age, and frequently till some matrimonial engage ment is formed. From the retirement of a convent, with all its uniformity and duiness, they are suddenly introduced into circles of gaiety and dissipation, and it is not wonderful that, from so violent a change, and from the example of the MONTHLY MAG. No. 215. married females, with whom they associate, they become victims to the dissolute habits of their country. ENGLISH NUNS. In the convent of St. Leandro there are two English nuns, to whom I have paid several visits. In a small apartmer: within the quadrangle of the convent, I was permitted to converse with them through a grate in one of the adjoining rooms. The first who entered was an elderly lady, of a commanding figures she was attended by a beautiful girl, about sixteen, who I found was a pensioner in the house. The dress of the nun was entirely black, with a white veil, and she appeared to be nearly sixty. She informed me that she was a native of London, and recollected that about the time she left it a new bridge, probably Blackfriars, was building. After a short time the other English nun entered the cell: she appeared about thirty, and was dressed in a similar manner. Both ladies spoke English tolerably well, but were occasionally at a loss for particular words. The novelty of the situation, and the good manners of the elder lady, to say nothing of the beauty of the younger one, created an interest which, perhaps, neither their conversation nor understanding would have otherwise produced. They appeared pleased to see their countrymen, but remembered very little of the country which gave them birth. The elder lady's name is Saumarez; and she said the gallant admiral of that name was her relation, but she did not know in what degree. The younger, Mary Ridgway, had no recollection of any relations or friends in England, having resided in this city ever since she was six years old. The ladies expressed the usual hatred to Buonaparte. They asked if it was true, that he was in bad health. I replied, I believed he was well; but that I wished he was in heaven. The eldest nun shook her head, and piously said, she believed he would never go there. I intimated that he might receive the grace of repentance: she thought it too much to hope for, after the evil he had done to religion. We learnt that there were thirty-six in the house, who had taken the veil, besides boarders and servants, amounting in the whole to about one hundred females. Their employments are needlework, making artificial Bowers, praying, and instructing young women sent there as pensioners, of whom the eldest of the English nuns had six under her care. As the allowance of the cons 4 K venta vent is inconsiderable, I understood a pecuniary gift would not be deemed an afront, and it was conveyed to them by means of a turning cupboard, placed in the double-grated window. No one, except a physician, can have admission within the house, nor can any one converse with the ladies otherwise than through the grates. The same regulations prevail in all other convents of nuns; and I suspect the tales we have heard of intrigues in such places are mere fic tions. I have since learnt the history of the younger recluse, from some of the families who have patronised her. Her father was a merchant in London, and, having been unfortunate in commerce, embarked with his wife and this only child for the East Indies. The ship in which they sailed was one of that large fleet which, towards the close of the American war, was captured by the combined fleets of France and Spain. They were carried into Cadiz, and thence removed to this city, where the father was detained a prisoner, on his parole, and died shortly after his arrival. The mother maintained herself and her orphan daughter for a short period, when she followed her husband to the grave. The piety of the good Catholics was exerted to save this offspring of heresy from everlasting perdition; and a subscription was set on foot to defray the expence of placing her in a convent. Being young, and perhaps slightly instructed in the principles of her own religion, she became a convert to that of her benefactors, and had her mind so strongly impressed, even with its fanaticism, that, when she visited, during the recess, the only Protestant family in the city, she felt unhappy at her removal from those scenes, and those associates, which her enthusiastic imagination represented as essential to her future felicity. She enjoyed none of the amusements of her youthful companions; and, though offered a subsistence by the worthy family in which she passed her vacations, she sighed to return to the convent, that she might give full vent to her pious feelings by prayer and meditation. After the due probation, she took the vows and the veil; and now, perhaps, when the ardour of youthful enthusiasm has abated, can only feel reconciled to her lot by knowing it to be inevitable. SOCIETY AT SEVILLE. I have been so much pleased with the agreeable round of acquaintance to which I have been introduced by my friend General Virues and huis: amiable lady, that I think it will afford you some entertainment, if I devote the following letter to the description of societies from which I have derived considerable plea. sure, and much insight into the general state of the higher orders of the coinmu, nity in Spain. The Tertulla of the Countess Villaman. rique is the most crouded of any in Seville, and is more frequented, by the English, than any other. It is, in fact, a gaming house, where a bank is kept by the old lady, in partnership with the Marquis Ensenada, and considerabie sums are won and lost at it daily.. The male visitors consist chiefly of officers of the army, who might be infinitely better employed with the troops in La Mancha, than in the dissipation of this capital. Neither music nor dancing is allowed at their meetings: but there are some in telligent persons generally in company, who never enter into the spirit of the play-table, and enjoy conversation iu another apartment. At this assembly I frequently meet Count Materoso, who so spiritedly em barked, in an open boat, at Gijhon to convey to England the first intelligence of the revolution in the Asturias. His friend, Arguilles, also generally makes one of the company in the evening; and, by iss good sense, and amiable manners, adds greatly to the pleasure of the party. Arguilles is of a very ancient family in Oviedo: he has seen and studied mankind in various countries, and made accurate observations on their customs, laws, and manners. He passed some time in England, where he increased his love of freedom, and his detestation of the intolerance, superstition, and ty ranny, of the old government of Spain; and justly complains, that the Junta have hitherto attempted nothing to remedy the existing evils. His hatred of the French has been hicreased by their cruel treatment of his family: and, by his manly spirit and com prehensive mind, he is well calculated to serve the best interests of his country. Like all the ablest men in Spain, he is anxious for the convocation of the Cortes, and is now officiating without salary, as secretary to a committee, appointed for the purpose of regulating the number of deputies, the places from which they are to be sent, the mode of election, and the formalities to be observed, in that ex¬ pected assembly of the Spanish nation. The The researches of the committee into the I must do justice, however, to some 66 The ladies at the house of the countess seldom engage at the card table, but form small parties for conversation; and do not appear to be at all discomposed by the tobacco-smoke puffed in their faces from the segars of the men. There is a coarseness of manners among the sion of revenge under the regulation of General Virues has introduced me to The Marchioness is a charming woman, and is universally esteemed; her society is more select than Villamanriques; but here too the men smoke, and the only lady I have seen indulging in that practice was at this house: this is so common with the men that it ceases to be disgusting, but I cannot reconcile myself to a segar in the mouth of a woman, and I believe it is a very uncommon sight, even in this country. I'met at the house of Angulo, an advocate of eminence, where General Virues resides, a party of a different descrip. tion, chiefly composed of persons who have escaped from Madrid; and, as those who arrive daily, naturally associate with their former friends, the latest information from that city is to be acquired here. All who have recently left that capital give shocking accounts of the conduct of the French and the severe sufferings of the Madrilenos. The public places are No lady deserted, and the theatre and the Paseos left to the French officers. ventures out of her house, and few men, who walk in the streets, are bold enough to recognise or speak to any of their ac quaintance whom they may chance to meet; the houses of the nobility are stripped of the plate; and the furniture, from the want of purchasers, is consumeN for firing, or is wantonly destroyed. The tradesmen are starving, and the clergy turned out to beg where no one has any thing to bestow. A gentleman whom I met met in this house had recently escaped from Madrid; he held an employment in the office of the secretary of state, and, when the French entered Madrid, was compelled to execute its duties for the usurper. He says, that the deepest revenge is the marked expression of every countenance in Madrid; that the inha bitants have secreted arms; that private signals of conspiracy exist; and that, at some future period, a second Sicilian vespers will be perpetrated. At the house of Angulo, cards are never introduced; the young ladies are musical; one of them plays admirably on the violin, an instrument not common for ladies, and the others on the piano-forte: patriotic songs are sung in chorus, and sometimes the fandango is danced; which amusements, mingled with agreeable conversation, and moonlight walks in a de lightful garden, render the evenings in this society the pleasantest in Seville. We have some other agreeable societies in this city, which are rendered particularly so by the ease that prevails after the first introduction: but the only so ciety of a literary kind is at the house of a priest in the cathedral. Padre Cepero is a clergyman of the Sagrario, a very spirited, liberal, and intelligent, man; though a zealous Catholic, he is not into lerant, and despises much of the mummery which is practised by his profession: bis attention has not been turned to divinity beyond his own church, of the infallibility of which he never doubts, but he has studied history and political economy, and has cultivated a taste for the fine arts: he is a most determined patriot, and his house is the evening resort of some of the most intelligent men in Seville. I have met Capmany here frequently, who is a writer on political subjects, and has published some learned and sensible works on several subjects of commercial history, and on military and political economy. Like all theoretic statesmen, many of his proposals for the amelioration of his country are better on paper than they would prove in practice; but he is a sensible and amiable man. PADRE BLANCO, So well known through out Spain as the author of the Patriotico Seminario, frequently joins this circle. If there be a priest without bigotry, a philosopher without vanity, or a politi cian without prejudice, Padre Blanco is that man: whenever he is of the party, he enlightens it by his knowledge and animates it by his patriotis, OLIVES. From the frequent mention I have made of olive trees, you will naturally conclude that the quantity of the fruit produced is very considerable: a great part is eaten in the crude state, or is preserved in salted water, but the larger portion is made into oil, which in Spain answers the purpose of butter. The oil of Spain, however, is much less pure than that of France and Italy, though the fruit, from which it is made, is greatly superior. This inferiority arises princi pally from the length of time the olives are kept, piled in heaps, before they are ground; whence, in this warm coun try, they ferment and become in some degree putrid. The right of possessing an olive mitt is a feudal privilege belonging to the lords of particular manors, and to such mills all the olives grown in the district, often a very extensive one, are obliged to be carried. Here they remain in heaps, waiting their turn to be ground, from Oc tober and November, when they are ga thered, till the month of January, and sometimes February, and consequently become rancid, to the great detriment both of the colour and the flavour of the oil. The stones of the olive produce some oil, which is equally transparent with that of the pulp, but of a more acrid flavour; and as the farmers are anxious to produce as large a quantity as they can, the two kinds are mixed, by which means the whole becomes tainted. The oil is kept in large jars, sunk in the ground, so as to preserve it in an equable temperature, and prevent its suffering from the extremes of heat and cold. The proprietors take, from the top of each jar, the clearest of the oil for the use of the table: the residue is appropriated to different persons, and is used by the poor to light their habita tions. Though the quantity of oil made here is very great, a small portion only. is exported. The principal part of that which exceeds the immediate consump tion was formerly sent to the Castiles, and other parts of the north of Spain: but though the war has closed that vent for this commodity, and the harvest has been most abundant, yet the price is still too high to admit of its being exported to England.. AN ENGLISH MANUFACTORY. There are few manufactories of consequence at Seville, excepting one, on a very extensive scale, for preparing leather. It is conducted by Mr, Wetherell, an Englishman Englishman who has been many years settled in this city, under the patronage of the Spanish court; and, as he possesses perseverance and integrity in a very high degree, he has carried the establishment to a very considerable extent, and the convent of St. Diego was granted him by the government for the purpose of his manufactory. Mr. Wetherell unites the various trades of tanner, currier, fellmonger, saddler, boot-maker, glover, cartouche-box and belt-maker, in which branches he constantly employs about four hundred men. As he works for the army, he is allowed to protect forty men, under forty-five years of age, from the conscription; the remainder is composed either of men above that age or of foreign ers: among the latter are some Germans, and several Frenchmen, towards whom the animosity of the Spaniards is so great, that they are only kept from violence by working in separate apartments. Mr. Wetherell is a very liberal and benevolent man, and pays his labourers high wages, which are spent not in liquor, as with us, but in dress and finery for their Sunday and holiday promenade. Such is the sobriety of these people, that though a cask of rum stands constantly in the workshops, to which all may apply when they please, no complaints of excess or drunkenness have ever been made. This manufactory produces, weekly, eight hundred cured ox-hides, and a proportionate quantity of the skins of horses, deer, sheep, goats, lambs, and kids; some of which are sold in the form of leather, but the greater part are converted, within the manufactory, to the different articles for which they are calculated. Instead of oak bark the inner bark of the cork tree is used in tanning, and is found to answer the purpose; but, as it contains-less of the tannine property, about one-third more of it is requisite to cure the leather: it is supplied from Palamonos, a river between Gibraltar and Malaga, where the price is about seventy-five shillings per ton. Though Mr. Wetherell is known to be a protestant, and the only one in Seville, he has passed upwards of twenty years there without any molestation on account of his religion, which may in some measure be ascribed to the excellence of his character, but which I think also reflects some honour on the liberality of the Spa nish people. SEVILLE LITERATURE. The booksellers inhabit a street called Calle Genova, and are as badly furnished as other traders. Most books of value are printed in Madrid; and, from the present state of the intercourse between the two capitals, cannot be conveyed hither without incurring great risk. The principal stock consists of old books of divinity, lives of saints, dissertations on the antiquities of the country, and a very few bad editions of the Latin Classics. You will be surprised to be informed, that in this city the only map of Spain I could procure was, a very bad one, pub lished in London. I remarked in looking over the catalogues of the different book sellers, that I did not see a single book in the Greek language; a pretty convin cing proof that the knowledge of it in this country must be at a very low ebb. BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR. I have frequently heard people relating, with indescribable emotions, the fears, the hopes, the agitations, and the mournings, which occupied those few, but interesting, days when the united fleets of France and Spain last sailed from Cadiz, amidst the prayers and benedictions of the people, with the vain expectation of vanquishing the foe who had so long held them imprisoned within their own forti fications. The day they sailed all was expectation and anxiety. The succeed ing day increased the suspense, and wound up the feelings of the people al most to a state of phrenzy. The third day brought intelligence that the hostile fleets were approaching each other, with all the preparations of determined hos tility. The ships were not visible from the ramparts, but the crowds of citizens assembled there had their ears assailed by the roaring of the distant cannon; the anxiety of the females bordered on insa. nity, but more of despair than of hope was visible in every countenance. At this dreadful moment, a sound, louder than any that had preceded it and attended with a column of dark smoke, announced that a ship had exploded. The madness of the people was turned to rage against England; and exclamations burst forth, denouncing instant death to every man who spoke the language of their enemies. Two Americans, who had mixed with the people, fled, and hid themselves, to avoid this ebullition of popular fury, which, however, subsided into the calmness of despair, when the thunder of the cannon ceased. They had no hope of conquest, no cheering expec tations of greeting their victorious coun. trymen, nor of sharing triumphal laurels with those who had been engaged in the |