liked by the English, but also a great friend of ours. Señor Cuevas, Minister of the Interior, married to a daughter of the Marquesa de Vivanco, an amiable and excellent man, who seems generally liked, and is also most friendly to us. All these gentlemen are praised or abused, according to the party of the person who speaks of them; but I, not interfering in Mexican politics, find them amongst the most pleasant of our acquaintances.
However, were I to choose a situation here, it would undoubtedly be that of Archbishop of Mexico, the most enviable in the world to those who would enjoy a life of tranquillity, ease, and universal adoration. He is a Pope without the trouble, or a tenth part of the responsibility. He is venerated more than the Holy Father is in enlightened Rome, and like kings in the good old times, can do no wrong. His salary amounts to about one hundred thousand dollars, and a revenue might be made by the sweetmeats alone which are sent him from all the nuns in the republic. His palace in town, his well-cushioned carriage, well-conditioned horses and sleek mules, seem the very perfection of comfort. In fact, comfort, which is unknown amongst the profane of Mexico, has taken refuge with the Archbishop; and though many drops of it are shed on the shaven heads of all bishops, curates, confessors and friars, still in his illustrious person it concentrates, as in a focus. He himself is a benevolent, good-hearted, good-natured, portly and jovial personage, with the most laissez-aller air and expression conceivable. He looks like one on whom the good things of this world
