ought the matter
was not so pressing, partly because he wished to teach the Indians
the custom of bringing their little ones to the churches. At last,
overcome by the importunities of those who asked him, he went thither;
but when he could perceive in the child not the least sign of illness,
he was about to return without baptizing it. But when he looked at
the boy again he seemed to be silently warned by it not to deny it
that benefit. At last, when he had complied, and when everything
had been performed duly and in order, the child expired in the very
arms of its sponsor. By this event the father was rendered joyful,
but still more cautious not to think that time should be allowed any
advantage in matters of this kind; for, as he said, he would rather
suffer all the ills of sea and land if he might open heaven to this
single little boy. There have been seen other signs (not a few) of
the singular care extended by divine providence to this tribe and
Ours. Such a one was this. An Indian was wrapped in the folds of a
serpent eight feet long, but, groaning forth the saving name of Jesus,
he was released. Again: when there was a deficiency of that kind of
food which it is lawful to eat in the days of Lent, a boat on the
beach, brought by I know not whom, freely supplied fishes of a kind
not usual there. Again, when a church was on the point of falling,
the Indians were frightened out from it by a tremendous roar; and,
because the mass had not been finished, it did not fall before the
father had taken refuge in the sacristy, the chalice being safe, with
the sacred images on the abandoned altar. These things we mention,
passing over those persons to whom God has been pleased to grant good
of soul or body through Ours. To this establishment there was sent ten
years ago Francisco Simon, a lay brother; he died on the day on which
twenty years before he had entered the Society. And although through
all this interval of time he had neglected none of the things for
which a good religious may be praised, yet the nearer he approached
to death, the more content he seemed in doing them. The garden, the
kitchen, the dining-room, the sacristy, the workshops, the other places
in which he labored, he regarded somehow as sanctuaries--sometimes
saying his beads, sometimes holding colloquies with the Holy Trinity,
Christ, and our Lady the Virgin. A naturally irritable temper he
had so completely overcome by virtue and diligence that the fathe