There is no
better language, I believe. We teach them Castilian, and the
adoration of the Virgin. What more need they know?
Myself. - And what did your reverence think of the Philippines as a
country?
Rector. - I was forty years in the Philippines, but I know little of
the country. I do not like the country. I love the Indians. The
country is not very bad; it is, however, not worth Castile.
Myself. - Is your reverence a Castilian?
Rector. - I am an OLD Castilian, my son.
From the house of the Philippine Missions my friend conducted me to
the English college; this establishment seemed in every respect to
be on a more magnificent scale than its Scottish sister. In the
latter there were few pupils, scarcely six or seven, I believe,
whilst in the English seminary I was informed that between thirty
and forty were receiving their education. It is a beautiful
building, with a small but splendid church, and a handsome library.
The situation is light and airy: it stands by itself in an
unfrequented part of the city, and, with genuine English
exclusiveness, is surrounded by a high wall, which encloses a
delicious garden. This is by far the most remarkable establishment
of the kind in the Peninsula, and I believe the most prosperous.
From the cursory view which I enjoyed of its interior, I of course
cannot be expected to know much of its economy. I could not,
however, fall to be struck with the order, neatness, and system
which pervaded it.
