and fainter as their brotherhood dwindled, until at last they ceased.
And so it went on in the tainted, stricken place until the living were
not enough to bury the dead, or to do more than carry food and water to
the sick.

It would seem that about twelve years before a philanthropic American
enthusiast, armed with a letter of recommendation from whoever at that
date was President of Mexico, and escorted by a small guard, descended
upon San Jose to vaccinate it. For a few days all went well, for the
enthusiast was a good doctor, who understood how to treat ophthalmia and
to operate for squint, both of which complaints were prevalent in San
Jose. Then his first vaccination patients developed vesicles, and the
trouble began. The end of the matter was that the local priests, a very
ignorant class of men, interfered, declaring that smallpox was a trial
sent from Heaven which it was impious to combat, and that in any case
vaccination was the worse disease of the two.

As the _viruela_ had scarcely visited San Jose within the memory of man
and the vesicles looked alarming, the population, true children of the
Church, agreed with their pastors, and, from purely religious motives,
hooted and stoned the philanthropic "Americano" and his guard out of the
district. Now they and their innocent children were reaping the fruits
of the piety of these conscientious objectors.

After the first fortnight this existence in an atmosphere of disease
became absolutely terrible to me. Not an hour of the day passed that I
did not imagine some symptom of smallpox, and every morning when we met
at breakfast I glanced at Emma with anxiety. The shadow of the thing lay
deep upon my nerves, and I knew well that if I stopped there much longer
I should fall a victim to it in the body. In this emergency, by means