uch less
Ceremony, or more Freedom, if you please, than any of the Strangers of
what Nation soever; or, indeed, he seem'd to take as much Pains to
disoblige those, as he did Pleasure in obliging us.
The Hall was neat, large and stately; but being plain and unadorn'd with
more than decent Decorations, suitable to such a Society, I hasten to
the other.
When we enter'd the Chapel, our Eyes were immediately attracted by the
Image of our Lady of _Montserat_ (as they call it) which stands over the
Altar-Piece. It is about the natural Stature; but as black and shining
as Ebony it self. Most would imagine it made of that Material; though
her Retinue and Adorers will allow nothing of the Matter. On the
contrary, Tradition, which with them is, on some Occasions, more than
tantamount to Religion, has assur'd them, and they relate it as
undoubted Matter of Fact, that her present Colour, if I may so call it,
proceeded from her Concealment, in the Time of the _Moors_, between
those two Rocks on which the Chapel is founded; and that her long lying
in that dismal Place chang'd her once lovely White into its present
opposite. Would not a Heretick here be apt to say, That it was greaty
pity that an Image which still boasts the Power of acting so many
Miracles, could no better conserve her own Complexion? At least it must
be allow'd, even by a good Catholick, to carry along with it Matter of
Reproach to the fair Ladies, Natives of the Country, for their unnatural
and excessive Affection of adulterating, if not defacing, their
beautiful Faces, with the ruinating Dauberies of _Carmine_?
As the Custom of the Place is (which is likewise allow'd to be a
distinguishing Piece of Civility to Strangers) when we approach the
black Lady (who, I should have told you, bears a Child in her Arms; but
whether maternally Black, or of the _Mulatto_ Kind, I protest I did not
mind) the Priest, in great Civility, offers you her Arm to salute; at
which Juncture, I, like a true blue Protestant, mistaking my Word of
Command, fell foul on the fair Lady's Face. The Displeasure in his
Countenance (for he took more Notice of the Rudeness than the good Lady
her self) soon convinc'd me of my Error; However, as a greater Token of
his Civility, having admitted no _Spaniards_ along with my Companions
and me, is pass'd off the better; and his after Civilities manifested,
that he was willing to reform my Ignorance by his Complaisance.
To demonstrate which, upon my
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