on
as a missionary. A longing to convert the uncivilized heathen succeeded
his frivolous earthly passion, and a desire to explore and develop
unknown fastnesses continually possessed him. In his flashing eye and
sombre exterior was detected a singular commingling of the discreet Las
Casas and the impetuous Balboa.

Fired by this pious zeal, Father Jose went forward in the van of
Christian pioneers. On reaching Mexico, he obtained authority to
establish the Mission of San Pablo. Like the good Junipero, accompanied
only by an acolyth and muleteer, he unsaddled his mules in a dusky
_canon_, and rang his bell in the wilderness. The savages--a peaceful,
inoffensive, and inferior race--presently flocked around him. The
nearest military post was far away, which contributed much to the
security of these pious pilgrims, who found their open trustfulness and
amiability better fitted to repress hostility than the presence of an
armed, suspicious, and brawling soldiery. So the good Father Jose said
matins and prime, mass and vespers, in the heart of Sin and Heathenism,
taking no heed to himself, but looking only to the welfare of the Holy
Church. Conversions soon followed, and, on the 7th of July, 1760, the
first Indian baby was baptized,--an event which, as Father Jose piously
records, "exceeds the richnesse of gold or precious jewels or the
chancing upon the Ophir of Solomon." I quote this incident as best
suited to show the ingenuous blending of poetry and piety which
distinguished Father Jose's record.

The Mission of San Pablo progressed and prospered until the pious
founder thereof, like the infidel Alexander, might have wept that there
were no more heathen worlds to conquer. But his ardent and enthusiastic
spirit could not long brook an idleness that seemed begotten of sin; and
one pleasant August morning, in the year of grace 1770, Father Jose
issued from the outer court of the Mission building, equipped to explore
the field for new missionary labors.

Nothing could exceed the quite gravity and unpretentiousness of the
little cavalcade. First rode a stout muleteer, leading a pack-mule laden
with the provisions of the party, together with a few cheap crucifixes
and hawks' bells. After him came the devout Padre Jose, bearing his
breviary and cross, with a black _serapa_ thrown around his shoulders;
while on either side trotted a dusky convert, anxious to show a proper
sense of their regeneration by acting as guides into th