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OF THE CURA.

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sick, and burying the dead, my worthy host was looked up to by every Indian in the village as a counsellor, friend, and father. The door of the convent was always open, and Indians were constantly resorting to him a man who had quarrelled with his neighbour; a wife who had been badly treated by her husband; a father whose son had been carried off as a soldier; a young girl deserted by her lover all who were in trouble or affliction, came to him for advice and consolation, and none went away without it. And, besides this, he was principal director of all the public business of the town; the right hand of the alcalde; and had been consulted whether or not I ought to be considered a dangerous person. But the performance of these multifarious duties, and the excitement and danger of the times, were wearing away his frame. Four years before he gave up the capital, and took upon himself this curacy, and during that time he had lived a life of labour, anxiety, and peril; cut off from all the delights of social intercourse that make labour welcome, beloved by the Indians, but without any to sympathize with him in his thoughts and feelings. Once the troops of Morazan invaded the town, and for six months he lay concealed in a cave of the mountains, supported by Indians. Lately the difficulties of the country had increased, and the cloud of civil war was darker than ever. He mourned, but, as he said, he had not long to mourn; and the whole tone of his thoughts and conversation was so good and pure, that it seemed like a green spot in a sandy desert. We sat in the embrasure of a large window; within, the room was already dark. He took a pistol from the window-sill, and, looking at it, said, with a faint smile, that the cross was his protection; and then he put his thin hand in mine, and

told me to feel his pulse. It was slow and feeble, and seemed as if every beat would be the last; but he said it was always so; and, rising suddenly, added that this was the hour of his private devotions, and retired to his room. I felt as if a good spirit had flitted away.

My anxiety to reach Guatimala would not permit me long to enjoy the cura's hospitality. I intended to discharge my muleteer; but, unable to replace him immediately, and unwilling to lose another day, I was obliged to retain him. The usual course was to leave Esquipulas in the afternoon, and ride four leagues; but, having seven mules and only four cargoes, I determined to make these four leagues and the next day's journey also in one. Early in the morning I started. When I bade farewell, the priest and the soldier stood side by side, pictures of Christian humility and man's pride, and both recommended me to God at parting.

We crossed the plain; the mountains of Esquipulas seemed to have gained in grandeur; in half an hour commenced ascending the Mountain of Quezaltepeque, thickly wooded, and, like that of Mico, muddy and full of gullies and deep holes. Heavy clouds were hanging over it, and as we ascended it rained hard; but before reaching the top the clouds were lifted, the sun shone, and the plain of Esquipulas, with the great Sierra behind, covered with lofty pines, and clouds chasing each other over its sides, all blended together, made one of the grandest spectacles I ever beheld; and the great church still presented itself for the farewell view of the pilgrim. But the gleam of sunshine did not last long, and again the rain poured; for a while I had great satisfaction in seeing the muleteer drenched and hearing him grumble; but an unaccountable fit of goodhumour came over me, and I lent him my bear's skin

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greatcoat. At intervals the sun shone, and we saw at a great distance below us the village of Quezaltepeque. The descent was very precipitous, and the mud-holes and gullies were very deep; and the clouds which hung over the mountain were typical of my fortune. Mr. Catherwood, who followed on this road about three weeks afterward, heard from the Padre of Quezaltepeque that a plan had been formed to murder and rob me, on the supposition that I had a large amount of money about my person, which laudable project was defeated by my crossing in the morning instead of the afternoon, as is usually done.

We passed through Quezaltepeque without dismounting. It is usual, in dividing the stages to Guatimala, to make an afternoon's journey to this place and sleep. It was now but eleven o'clock, clear and bright as a September day at home. Leaving the village, we crossed a beautiful stream, at which some women were washing. Very soon we ascended again, and on the top of the mountain came to an abrupt precipice, forming the side of a deep ravine. We descended by a narrow path on the very edge of the precipice, part of the way on a narrow protruding ledge, and in other places by a path built against the rock to the bottom of the ravine. On the other side rose another precipitous wall. The ravine was deep and narrow, and wild to sublimity. The stream ran through it over a rocky bed, and for some distance the road lay in this bed. We ascended by a steep and difficult path to the top of the other side of the ravine, and rode for some distance along its edge. The opposite side was a perpendicular mass of limestone rock, black with exposure, and in some places were patches of grass on a brown ground, lighted up occasionally by brief gleams of sunshine. We de

scended again to the very bottom of the ravine, and, crossing the stream, ascended almost immediately a narrow path built along the side of the precipice to the top, being on the same side from which we started. It is impossible to give any idea of the wildness of this double crossing of the ravine. It terminated abruptly, and at the extreme end, on a point, was a small hacienda, on one side looking directly up this awful opening, and on the other upon a soft valley.

At three o'clock we struck the rituello of San Jacinto. On the opposite side was a fine table of land, with mountains rising beyond, and covered to the top with noble pines. There was no cultivation, and the whole country was in primeval wildness. At five o'clock we crossed the stream and entered the village of San Jacinto. It consisted of a collection of huts, some made. of poles and some plastered with mud. The church was of the same simple construction. On each side was an arbour thatched with leaves of Indian corn, and at the corners were belfries, with three bells each. In front were two gigantic Ceiba trees, the roots of which ran along even with the ground more than a hundred feet, and the branches spread to an equal extent.

The village was under the care of the cura of Quezaltepeque, who was then at San Jacinto. I rode up to his house and presented the letter of the cura of Esquipulas. My muleteer, without unloading the mules, threw himself down on the piazza, and, with my greatcoat on his unthankful body, began abusing me for killing him with long marches. I retorted; and before the padre had time to recover from his surprise at our visit, he was confounded by our clamour.

But he was a man who could bear a great deal, being above six feet, broad shouldered, and with a protuber

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ance in front that required support to keep it from falling. His dress consisted of a shirt and pair of pantaloons, with button-holes begging for employment; but he had a heart as big as his body, and as open as his wearing apparel; and when I told him I had ridden. from Esquipulas that day, he said I must remain a week to recruit. As to going the next day, he would not hear of it; and, in fact, very soon I found that it was impossible without other aid, for my abominable muleteer filled up the measure of his iniquities by falling ill with a violent fever.

At my earnest solicitation, the padre endeavoured to procure me mules for the next day, and during the evening we had a levee of villagers. The man upon whom he principally relied said that it was dangerous travelling; that two Ingleses had been arrested in Honduras, and had escaped, but their muleteers and servants were murdered. I could perhaps have thrown some light upon this story, but did not think it worth while to know anything about such suspicious characters. The padre was distressed that he could not serve me, but at length said that a man of my rank and character (I had shown him my passport, and Augustin had fired the Balize guns) ought to have every facility, and he would provide for me himself; and he ordered a man to go early in the morning to his hacienda for mules; after which, fatigued with such unusual efforts, he threw his gigantic body into a hammock, and swung himself to sleep.

The household of the padre consisted of two young men, one deaf and dumb, and the other a fool. The former possessed extraordinary vivacity and muscular powers, and entertained the padre by his gesticulations, stories, and sleight-of-hand tricks, and particularly with