When the above-mentioned young men come quite fresh from their seminaries, they are incredibly narrow, ignorant, and at times ill-mannered, full of conceit, hatred for heretics, and desire to proselyte. Gradually this rough exterior wears away; and their estimable position, and the abundant emoluments which they enjoy, make them kindly disposed. The sound insight into human nature and the self-reliance which are peculiar to the lower classes of the Spanish people, and which are so amusingly revealed by Sancho Panza as governor, have full opportunity to assert themselves in the influential and responsible post which the cura occupies. Very frequently the cura is the only white man in the place, and no other European lives for miles around. Therefore, not only is he the curator of souls, but also the representative of the government. He is the oracle of the Indians, and his special decision in anything that concerns Europe and civilization is without appeal. His advice is asked in all important affairs, and he has no one from whom he himself can seek advice. Under such circumstances all their intellectual abilities come into full play. The same man, who would have followed the plow in Spain, here [_i.e._, in the Philippines] carries out great undertakings. Without technical instruction and without scientific help, he constructs churches, roads, and bridges. However, although these circumstances are so favorable for the development of the ability of the priest, yet it would be better for the buildings themselves if they were executed by professionals; for the bridges collapse readily, the churches often resemble sheep-folds, the more pretentious have at times most extravagant facades, and the roads quickly deteriorate again. However, each one does as well as he can. Almost all of them have the good of their village at heart, although their zeal, and the course followed by those who pursue this aim, differ widely according to their personality. In Camarines and Albay, I have had considerable intercourse with the curas, and they have, without exception, won my esteem. As a rule, they have no self-conceit; and in the remote places they are so happy whenever they receive a visit, that they exert all their efforts to make their guest's stay as pleasant as possible. Life in a large convent very much resembles that of the lord of the manor in eastern Europe. Nothing can be more unconstrained. One lives as independently as in an inn, and many guests act just as if they were in one. I have seen a subaltern arrive, who, without waiting until the steward assigned him a room of his own accord, took one himself, ordered his dinner, and only casually asked whether the priest, with whom he was only very slightly acquainted, was at home.