the Lord's Supper one Sabbath morning to "over three hundred heathen
Salvages." It was not to be wondered that the Enemy of Souls, being
greatly incensed thereat, and alarmed at his decreasing popularity,
should have grievously tempted and embarrassed these Holy Fathers, as we
shall presently see.

Yet they were happy, peaceful days for California. The vagrant keels of
prying Commerce had not as yet ruffled the lordly gravity of her bays.
No torn and ragged gulch betrayed the suspicion of golden treasure.
The wild oats drooped idly in the morning heat, or wrestled with the
afternoon breezes. Deer and antelope dotted the plain. The watercourses
brawled in their familiar channels, nor dreamed of ever shifting their
regular tide. The wonders of the Yosemite and Calaveras were as yet
unrecorded. The Holy Fathers noted little of the landscape beyond the
barbaric prodigality with which the quick soil repaid the sowing. A new
conversion, the advent of a Saint's day, or the baptism of an Indian
baby, was at once the chronicle and marvel of their day.

At this blissful epoch there lived at the Mission of San Pablo Father
Jose Antonio Haro, a worthy brother of the Society of Jesus. He was
of tall and cadaverous aspect. A somewhat romantic history had given a
poetic interest to his lugubrious visage. While a youth, pursuing his
studies at famous Salamanca, he had become enamored of the charms
of Dona Carmen de Torrencevara, as that lady passed to her matutinal
devotions. Untoward circumstances, hastened, perhaps, by a wealthier
suitor, brought this amour to a disastrous issue; and Father Jose
entered a monastery, taking upon himself the vows of celibacy. It was
here that his natural fervor and poetic enthusiasm conceived expression
as a missionary. A longing to convert the uncivilized heathen succeeded
his frivolous earthly passion, and a desire to explore and develop