Prior of Vera Cruz was neither old nor severe, as the men selected
to govern communities of youthful _religious_ are accustomed to be. On
the contrary, he was in the flower of his age, and had all the manner
of a joyful and diverting youth. His fathership, as they told us, had
acquired the priory by means of a gift of a thousand ducats, which he
had sent to the Father Provincial. After dinner he invited some of us
to visit his cell, and there it was we came to know the levity of his
life. It exhibited little of the appearance of a life of penance and
self-mortification. We expected to find in the habitation of a prelate
of such an establishment a most magnificent library, which would
furnish an index of his learning and of his taste for letters. But we
saw nothing more than a dozen old books lying in a corner, and covered
with dust and cobwebs, as if they had hid themselves for shame at the
neglect with which the treasures they contained had been treated, and
that a guitar should be preferred to them.

"The cell of the Prior was richly tapestried and adorned with feathers
of birds of Michoacan; the walls were hung with various pictures of
merit; rich rugs of silk covered the tables; porcelain of China filled
the cupboards and sideboards; and there were vases and bowls containing
preserved fruits and most delicate sweetmeats. Our enthusiastic
companions did not fail to be scandalized at such an exhibition, which
they looked upon as a manifestation of worldly vanity, so foreign to
the poverty of a begging friar. But those among us that had sailed from
Spain with the intent of living at their ease, and of enjoying the
pleasures which riches would produce, exulted at the sight of such
great opulence, and they desired to establish themselves in a country
where they could so quickly win fortunes so secure and abundant.[5] The
holy Prior talked to us only of his ancestry, of his good parts, of the
influence which he had with the Father Provincial, of the love which
the principal ladies and the wives of the richest merchants manifested
to him, of his beautiful voice, of his consummate skill in music. In
fact, that we might not doubt him in this last particular, he took the
guitar and sung a sonnet which he had composed to a certain _Amaryllis_.
This was a new scandal to our newly-arrived _religious_, which
afflicted some of them to see such libertinage in a prelate, who ought,
on the contrary, to have set an example of penance a