its advantages may perhaps be descanted upon by some future Mexican historian.
I remained a long time at the Puente behind the rest of my party duck-shooting, and should probably have passed the morning there, had I not received a letter from Mr. Ritchie, an English merchant of great respectability established at Guadalajara, who had had the goodness to offer us lodgings in his house during our stay in the town—written in haste, to inform me that the principal authorities of the State were coming out with him to meet us at the village of San Pedro. I instantly took the road to that place, but did not reach it until long after the carriage, and found a numerous party assembled, who had been waiting some time for us. Zacatecas had spoiled us for such civilities, or, at least, left us totally unprepared to meet them; and I was not a little ashamed of our appearance, as we took our places covered with dust in the gay carriages brought out for our reception.
The approach to Guadalajara lies across a flat, but rich vega: the town covers a great extent of ground, and the view of it from the Hacienda de Batres (to the South-east,) is very picturesque, although there is no range of mountains for the eye to rest upon in the background. Mr. Ritchie's house, where we arrived between two and three o'clock, is situated in one of the principal streets, and, large as our party was, his hospitality found means to provide a lodging for us all. The servants
