The Aztec Treasure-House | Page 4

like opinion. Truly, it is by the especial grace of God that men like Fray
Antonio are permitted at times to dwell upon this sinful earth."
Don Rafael spoke with a depth of feeling and a reverence of tone that
gave his strong words still greater strength and deeper meaning. After
that moment's pause he resumed: "But that which is of most interest to

you, señor, is the knowledge that Fray Antonio has gained of our native
Indians during his ministrations among them. It is the dearest wish of
his heart to carry to these heathen souls the saving grace of Christianity,
and for the accomplishment of this good purpose he makes many
journeys into the mountains; ministering in the chapels which his zeal
has founded in the Indian towns, and striving earnestly by his preaching
of God's word to bring these far-wandered sheep into the Christian fold.
Very often his life has been in most imminent peril, for the idolatrous
priests of the mountain tribes hate him with a most bitter hatred
because of the inroads which his mild creed is making upon the cruel
creed which they uphold. Yet is he careless of the danger to which he
exposes himself; and there be those who believe, such is the temerity
with which he manifests his zeal, that he rather seeks than shuns a
martyr's crown."
Again Don Rafael paused, and again was it evident that deep feelings
moved him as he spoke of the holy life of this most holy man. "You
will thus understand, señor," he went on, "that Fray Antonio of all men
is best fitted by his knowledge of the ways of these mountain Indians to
advise you touching your going among them and studying them. You
cannot do better than confer with him at once. It is but a step to the
church of San Francisco. Let us go."
What Don Rafael had said had opened new horizons to me, and I was
stirred by strange feelings as we passed out together from the shady
silence of the Museo into the bright silence of the streets: for Morelia is
a quiet city, wherein at all times is gentleness and rest. For priests in
general, and for Mexican priests in particular, I had entertained always
a profound contempt; but now, from an impartial source, I had heard of
a Mexican priest whose life-springs seemed to be the soul-stirring
impulses of the thirteenth century; who was devoted in soul and in
body to the service of God and of his fellow-men; in whom, in a word,
the seraphic spirit of St. Francis of Assisi seemed to live again. But by
this way coming to such tangible evidence of the survival in the present
time of forces which were born into the world six hundred years ago,
my thoughts took a natural turn to my own especial interests; and, by
perhaps not over-strong analogy, I reasoned that if this monk still lived

so closely to the letter and to the spirit of the Rule that St. Francis, six
centuries back, gave to his order, most reasonably might I hope to find
still quick something of the life that was in full vigor in Mexico only a
little more than half that many centuries ago.
We turned off from the Calle Principal by the little old church of La
Cruz, and passed onward across the market-place, where buying and
selling went on languidly, and where a drowsy hum of talk made a
rhythmic setting to a scene that seemed to my unaccustomed eyes less a
bit of real life than a bit lifted bodily from an opera. Facing the
market-place was the ancient church; and the change was a pleasant
one, from the vivid sunlight and warmth of the streets to its cool,
shadowy interior: where the only sign of life was a single old woman,
her head muffled in her rebozo, praying her way along the Stations of
the Cross. For more than two hundred and fifty years had prayer been
made and praise been offered here; and as I thought of the many
generations who here had ministered and worshipped--though evil
hearts in plenty, no doubt, both within and without the chancel there
had been--it seemed to me that some portion of the subtle essence of all
the soul-longings for heavenly help and guidance that here had been
breathed forth, by men and women truly struggling against the sinful
forces at work in the world, had entered into the very fabric of that
ancient church, and so had sanctified it.
We crossed to the eastern end of the church, where was a low door-way,
closed by a heavy wooden door that was studded with rough iron nails
and ornamented with rudely finished iron-work; pushing which door
open briskly,