Families should never think of bringing pretty unmarried servant girls with them from Europe; they are almost sure of losing them. Be the girls ever so determined, they will find a difficulty in resisting the offers of marriage from the numerous English bachelor mechanics, who are at a sad loss for wives:—a Spanish wife is not to their taste. Therefore, those who wish to keep their servants, must choose the ugliest they can procure—something that may be an antidote to the warm passions of our English Damons. An importation of British females with tolerable personal charms would answer here, as well as in many other places abroad. I wish some adventurer would beat up for recruits amongst the nursery maids at the west end of the town in London; it would be an excellent speculation, and serve the poor girls into the bargain.

Several Englishmen have married Buenos Ayrean ladies; and, from all accounts, they do not repent having done so. The worst of it is, in marrying into Spanish families, one may be said to marry all the family, for they expect to reside under the same roof. The English resist this, and with success: the good sense of their wives will make them conform to our ideas; yet the parting of a beloved daughter from the paternal roof must be a painful task for parents, whose only consolation is in yielding her to the arms of the man she loves.

Englishmen married to Spanish females have been, in a degree, obliged to conform to the Catholic ceremonies of marriage. The over-scrupulous will start at this; but, if they have ever been in love, they will readily conceive that these oaths of form may be swallowed with as much ease as many of the absurd ones of our Custom-House. The difference of religion, in liberal minds, cannot in any way disturb domestic harmony: we differ only in forms.

So great were religious prejudices not many years ago, that a lady would have hesitated, and her family interfered to prevent a marriage with one of “heretic creed.” The alteration is a credit to their understandings; it evinces that they are neither bigots nor fanatics. A generation of children are now springing up, half English, half Creolian, speaking both languages; their fathers teaching them English, their mothers Spanish. Could we look a few years forward, and see these youngsters grown to maturity, loving the land of their birth, and having a yearning towards that of their fathers, what important consequences may not result, in cementing friendships between nations that once regarded each other with a rooted dislike.

Englishmen who have married in this country, I should presume, intend making it their adopted land. It is an alternative that would cause me to pause: I could not consent to lose the hope of again seeing my paternal home. Now, if I could fancy such an event, as taking my Buenos Ayrean wife with me to London, lodging her in some fashionable mansion near Grosvenor Square, or in the Square itself—visiting the Opera and all the Theatres—pointing out to her Rossini, Catalani, our Braham, Stephens, Kean, and Macready, and explaining their different talents, poor Rosquellas, and the Señoras Tani, would be quite forgotten; and, instead of a ride on the Barracca Road, or to San José de Flores, San Isidro, &c. conducting her along the Queen’s Road to Putney, Richmond, or Windsor—taking a stroll with her in Kensington Gardens—Heavens! whither will my imagination lead me? and why cannot I persuade some kind-hearted Creolian to give me his daughter, and two hundred thousand dollars, in return for the fond love I should lavish on her?

The marriages of English people have been performed by captains of vessels of war, or in the presence of two or three merchants, whose signatures are said to be sufficient acts of parliament. The residence of a consul will obviate some of these difficulties.

The British community, in Buenos Ayres, lost one of its chief ornaments, by a melancholy suicide, which took place in December, 1824—that of Mr. Dallas, who cut his throat with a razor: disappointment in business is stated to be the cause. He has not left his equal in Buenos Ayres; his character fully warranted that expressive term in the English language—a perfect gentleman.

The death of Mr. Rowcroft, in Peru, caused infinite regret amongst the British in Buenos Ayres, by whom he was much respected. He was, probably, the first alderman of the city of London that ever crossed the Andes. It was hard to meet his death by the bullets of foreign soldiery. It is some consolation, that accident alone caused the fatal affair. It is said, that he was taken for a Spanish officer, Mr. R. being clothed in his uniform as Colonel of the City Light Horse, a dress he appeared particularly proud of.

A son of Sir Robert Wilson arrived here, and went to Peru; but he soon returned, and went to the Brazils, in order to join his father’s friend, Lord Cochrane.

Amongst my countrymen in this city, may be found some very eccentric characters, who would be accounted originals even at home.