Mr. Rivadavia was bred to the law. He has been represented to me as a man of strong passions, with nothing of the courtier in his manners, which, at times, approach to abruptness. The three years he was in office have proved that he possesses first rate talents as a statesman. Political as well as personal enemies every man must expect, in a situation like his; and though such a consideration might not have intimidated him from again accepting office, very possibly it might have had some influence, conceiving, that, as the foundation was laid for a good system of government, they should not reproach him with clinging to office for the sake of power and emolument. Mr. Rivadavia has visited both France and England in a public capacity, and has again sailed for Europe, in the _Walsingham_ packet, in part to superintend the education of his son, who is now, I believe, in the college of Stonyhurst. He will carry with him a distinguished name; before, he was in a manner unknown. He speaks a little English, and very good French. In person, Mr. Rivadavia has some peculiarities; and were he much before the public in London, I fear, he would not long escape the wicked pencils of our caricaturists: should it be so, he cannot complain; he will find the king, and the first people in the realm, not spared by them. His figure is short and thick, with a dark complexion; and he generally walks with one arm behind him. He wears black clothes, with tight pantaloons, displaying Herculean limbs. As an orator, Mr. Rivadavia is not very imposing; he has a deep sonorous voice, and is eloquent--but not exactly a Cicero. In October, 1820, two persons were shot in the Plaza, near the Fort, for state offences connected with the revolution of the period--one a military officer, and the other a drum-major. The former was executed in a _poncho_, in which disguise he was taken. They were conducted from the Fort in heavy irons, each holding a small cross, and accompanied by friars on each side, to whom the criminals eagerly listened. At the fatal spot their sentence was read: they were placed on seats, and tied; the priests slowly withdrew, still whispering comfort to the unhappy men; an officer waved his handkerchief--and they were no more. The band struck up the tune of "The Downfall of Paris," as the troops marched past the bodies. A number of females witnessed the appalling sight from the neighbouring balconies.