death of fire, than that hundreds should
stray from the pale of the church, and so incur the loss of eternal
happiness. In the Indies, where the priests in many cases showed a
devotion, and heroic qualities, equal to anything which has ever
been displayed by missionaries, in any part of the world,
persecution was yet hotter than it ever was in civilized Europe.
These men believed firmly that it was their bounden duty, at any
cost, to force the natives to become Christians; and however we may
think that they were mistaken and wrong, however we may abhor the
acts of cruelty which they committed, it would be a mistake,
indeed, to suppose that these were perpetrated from mere lightness
of heart, and wanton bloodthirstiness.

The laws of those days were, in all countries, brutally severe. In
England, in the reign of Henry the Eighth, the loss of an ear was
the punishment inflicted upon a man who begged. The second time he
offended, his other ear was cut off. A third repetition of the
offense, and he was sold into slavery; and if he ran away from his
master, he was liable to be put to death by the first person who
met him. The theft of any article above the value of three
shillings was punishable by death, and a similar code of punishment
prevailed for all kinds of offenses Human life was then held in
such slight regard that we must remember that, terrible as the
doings of the Inquisition were, they were not so utterly foreign,
to the age in which they were perpetrated, as would appear to us,
living in these days of moderate punishment and general humanity.

By the boys, however, brought up in England, which at that time was
bitterly and even fiercely anti-Catholic--a state of things which
naturally followed the doings in the reign of Queen Mary, and the
threatening aspect maintained by Spain towards this country--popery
was held in utter abhorrence, and the Inquisition was the bugbear
with which mothers frightened their children, when disobedient.

The thought, therefore, of falling into the hands of this dreaded
tribunal was very terrible to the boys. They debated, between
themselves, whether it would not be better for them to leave Arica
secretly, to make for the mountains, and to take up their lot, for
life, among the natives of the plains, who had so hospitably
received them. They had, indeed, almost arrived at the conclusion
that this would be their best plan of procedure.

They lingered, however, in the hope, dail