compliment he can receive from the meritorious classes. It is not alone with public affairs or purely intellectual discussions that we are entertained in such re-unions of cultivated society. In the free conversation of the intimate circle there is always a cordial display of sincere interest for the welfare of each other. The aspirations of the rich or the hopes of the poor, are always tenderly discussed. There is abundant evidence of heart; and, even after years have elapsed, and the sojourner in Mexico has returned to his home, he will find by his correspondence that he is still remembered by the intelligent friends, who made him forget that he was "a stranger in a strange land."
The Mexicans have generally supposed that it was impossible to entertain their friends without an extravagant expenditure which was perhaps the standard that measured the value of their guests. They have still to learn that a simple style and a cordial welcome together with the refined conversational intercourse are more valued than imported champagne and "pâté de foie gras." As soon as their society becomes less old fashioned and formal, they will find themselves more comfortable in the presence of strangers. In Mexico, as in all countries, there are notorious specimens of egotism, haughtiness, ill-breeding, and loose morals, both among men and women; and although we find these worthless elements floating like bubbles on the surface of society, they must not be regarded as exclusive national characteristics. "A nation, in which revolutions and counter-revolutions are events of almost daily occurrence, is naturally prolific in desperate and crafty political adventurers;" but the evils that have been begotten by the past, must not be considered as permanent.
The Lepero is a variety of the Indian, and combines in himself most of the bad qualities of the two classes from whose union he derives his being. He is the inhabitant of cities, towns or villages, and, is in Mexico, what the lazzaroni are in Naples. Neither white, black nor copper colored; neither savage nor civilized; neither an agriculturist nor a mechanic, the lepero occupies an equivocal position upon the boundaries of all these characters. His existence is altogether a matter of chance. He has scarcely ever a permanent home. His wife and children, or his amiga, are lodged on the ground floor of a hovel in the outskirts of the town, from which he is often expelled in consequence either of his poverty, intemperance, or quarrelsome behavior. If unmarried, he finds a resting place, in these delicious climates, on a mat beneath the sky, or within the friendly shelter of a wall
