task for their exclusiveness, exclaiming: "You lock up
your pews and exclude the marrow of the land."

I knew very well the Rev. Charles Constantine Pise, the first
native-born Catholic to officiate in St. Joseph's church on Sixth
Avenue. He was of Italian parentage and was remarkable for his great
physical attractiveness. In addition to his fine appearance, he was
exceedingly social in his tastes and was consequently a highly agreeable
guest. He cultivated the muses to a modest degree, and I have several of
his poetical effusions, one of which was addressed to me. In spite of
the admiration he commanded from both men and women, irrespective of
creed, life seemed to present to him but few allurements. Archbishop
Hughes sent him to a small Long Island parish where, after laboring long
and earnestly, he closed his earthly career. An anecdote is related of
this pious man which I believe to be true. A young woman quite forgetful
of the proprieties and conventionalties of life, but with decided
matrimonial proclivities, made Father Pise an offer of her fortune,
heart and hand. In a dignified manner he advised her to give her heart
to God, her money to the poor, and her hand to the man who asked for it.
Prior to his rectorship of St. Joseph's church in New York, Father Pise,
who was an intimate friend of Henry Clay, served as Chaplain of the U.S.
Senate during a portion of the 22d Congress. At the National Capital as
well as in New York he was exceptionally popular, making many converts,
especially among young women, and preaching to congregations in churches
so densely crowded that it was difficult to obtain even standing room.

I cannot pass the Roman Catholic clergy without some reference to the
Rev. Felix Varela, a priest of Spanish descent and, it is said, of noble
birth, who was sent from Cuba to Spain as one of the deputies to the
Cortes from his native island. His church was St. Peter's in Barclay
Street. It would be difficult for any words to do justice to his life of
self-abnegation or to his adherence to the precepts of his Divine
Master. It is with pleasure, therefore, that I relate the following
story, for the truth of which I can vouch. A policeman found a handsome
pair of silver candlesticks in the custody of a poor unfortunate man,
and as they bore upon them a distinctive coat of arms he arrested him.
On his way to prison the suspected criminal begged to see Father Varela
for a moment, and as his residence wa