DISINTERESTED CONDUCT OF A CATHOLIC PRIEST. "I meddle with no man's business but my own; OTWAY. I MUST take leave to digress a little from the tenor of my tale, whilst I record an anecdote, in itself of no other material interest except as it enables me to state one amongst the many reasons, which I have to love and revere the memory of a deceased friend, who devoted to me the evening of every day, without the exception of one, which I passed during my residence in Madrid. This excellent old man, Patrick Curtis by name, and by birth an Irishman, had been above half a century settled in Spain, as domestic priest, and occasionally preceptor to three · successive dukes of Osuna. In this situation he had been expressly the founder of the fortune of the premier Florida Blanca, by recommending him as advocate to the employ and patronage of that rich and noble house. The Abbè Don Patrick Curtis was of course looked up to as a person of no small consideration; he was also not less conspicuous and universally respected for his virtues, for his high sense of honour, his bold sincerity of speech, and generous benignity of soul; but this good man at the same time had such an over-abundant portion of the amor patriæ about him, was so marked a devotee to the British interest, and so unreserved an opponent to that of France, that it seemed to demand more circumspection than he was disposed to bestow for guarding himself against the resentment of a party, whose principles he arraigned without mitigation, and whose power he set at open defiance without caution or reserve; though considerably past eighty, his af 'fections were as ardent and his feelings as quick as if he had not reached his twentieth year. When I was supposed to be out of chance of recovery, this affectionate creature came to me in the agony of grief, to take his last farewell; he told me he had been engaged in fervent prayer and intercession on my behalf, and had pledged before the altar his most earnest and devoted services for the consolation and protection of my beloved wife and daughters, if it should please Heaven to remove me from them and reject his humble applications for my life: he lamented that I had no spiritual assistance of my own church to resort to; he did not mean to obtrude his forms, to which I was not accustomed, but on the contrary, came purposely to tender me his services. according to my own, and was ready, if I would furnish him with my prayer-book, and allow him to secure the doors from any that might intrude or overhear to the peril of his life, to administer the sacrament to me exactly as it is ordained by our church, requesting only that I would reach the cup with my own hand, and not employ his to tender it to me. All this he fulfilled, omitting none of the prayers appointed, and officiating in the most devout and impressive manner, (though at times inter rupted, and overcome by extreme sensibility) to my very great satisfaction. Had the office of inquisition, whose terrific mansion stood within a few paces of my gates, heard the report of this which passed in my heretical chamber, my poor friend would have breathed out the short remains of his days between two walls, never to be heard of more. From six o'clock in the afternoon till ten at night, he never failed to occupy the chair next to me, in my evening circle, and though I saw with infinite concern, that his constitution was rapidly breaking up, for the last six or seven weeks of my stay, no persuasion could keep him from coming to me, and exposing his declining health to the night air. At last, when I was recalled, and had fixed the day for my departure, dreading the effect which the act of parting for ever might have upon his exhausted frame, I endeavoured to impose upon him a later hour than I meant to take for setting out, and enjoined strict secrecy to all my party: but these precautions were in vain; at three o'clock in the morning, when I entered the receiving-room, I found my poor old friend alone, and waiting, with his arms extended to embrace me, and bathed in tears, scarcely able to support himself on his tottering legs, now miserably tumefied; a spectacle that cut my heart to the quick, and perfectly unmanned me. He purchased a number of masses of some pious mendicants, which he hoped would be efficacious and avail for our well doing; he had no great faith in amulets he told me, yet he had brought me a ring of Mexican workmanship and materials, very ancient and consecrated, and blessed by a venerable patriarch of the Indies, since canonized for his miracles; which ring had been highly prized by the late Duchess of Osuna, for its efficacy in preserving her from thunder and lightning; and though he did not presume to think that I would place the slightest confidence in its virtues, yet he hoped I would let him bestow it on the person of the infant daughter which was born to me in Spain, whom I then gave into his arms, whilst he invoked a thousand blessings upon her. He brought a very fine crucifix cut in ivory: he said he had put up his last prayers before it, and had nothing more to do but to lie down upon › his bed and die, which as soon as I departed he was prepared to do, sensible that his last hour was at : hand, and that he should survive our separation a very few days. I prevailed with him to retain his crucifix, but I accepted an exquisite Ecce Homo, by El Divine Morales, and exchanged a token of remembrance with him; I saw him, led out of my house to that of the Duke of Osuna near at hand, and whilst I was yet on my journey, the intelligence reached me of his death, and may the God of mercy receive him into bliss* !” We recollect an instance of affection, something similar, and in a man of the same description, which took place during the revolution in France.---A few days before the Countess du. Barry was guillotined (8th December, 1793,) an Irish priest found means to see her in prison, in the Conciergerie, and offered to effect her escape, if she could command a certain sum to bribe the jailor, and defray the expences of a journey. She asked him whether he could not save two persons. He replied, his plan would admit of only saving one. " Then," said Madame du Barry, "here is an order for the sum; but go instantly to the Duchess de Mortemart and save her; you will find her concealed in a garret in a certain house in Calais." The priest, after urging Madame du Barry in vain to seize the opportunity of escaping from her fate, yielded to her generous resoJution, took the money, proceeded to Calais, drew the Duchess de Mortemart from her asylum, disguised her as a woman of ordinary rank, and made her travel with him on foot, saying, as he passed along, that he was a poor constitutional priest, and that the duchess was his wife. They were hailed by the people with testimonies of joy; and in this manner they travelled through the French armies, and arrived at Ostend; from whence the priest passed into England, with Madame de Mortemart, |