perhaps no spot, in America, is so fitted for the enjoyment of a quiet man, who can either take his exercise on foot or horseback, beneath the sheltering trees, or wile away his hours with book and pencil on the comfortable seats in the shady woods. It is the favorite resort in the morning of all classes who are obliged to rise betimes and go abroad for health. Students, priests, monks, lovers, loungers, dyspeptics, consumptives, nurses, and troops of lovely children resort to the Alameda as soon as the gates are opened, and study, meditate, pray, flirt, exercise, or romp, until their appetites or the sun warn them of the flight of time.
In these drives, in dress, dining, domestic duties, mass, and theatre the hours of a Mexican's day are chiefly consumed. This catalogue of "idle occupations," does not, of course comprise all classes, but includes that portion of the aristocracy which is every where set apart by its fortunate exemption from necessary toil. In a country so rich as Mexico this class must necessarily be large; and, if it begins the day in plain black, and on its knees in chapels, it ends its waking hours amid the blaze of dress and jewels in the family box in the theatre. In most of the countries of southern Europe, and in all their old colonial possessions, the theatre is one of the necessaries of life, and a box is as indispensable as a dwelling. It forms a neutral ground upon which all can meet without the requirements of a forced hospitality, and consequently it affords all the pleasures of general society without the necessity of expensive entertainment. There are great disadvantages attending upon this constant dwelling in the public eye and in the blaze of artificial light; yet it is so agreeable a mode of killing time in Mexico, that the habits or the nature of the people must change essentially before we may expect to find them surrounding nightly the domestic hearth instead of the dramatic stage. Yet we should not be unjust to the Mexicans in this condemnation of one of their agreeable habits, which originates perhaps as much in their climate as in their tastes. Fine skies and genial atmospheres drive people into the open air. Wintry winds, desolate