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air was very impudent. He continued in the same way he had began, after
they were risen from dinner, and, in conclusion, took his leave, without
making him the least reproach.
The gentleman, surprised at the conduct of Father Francis, believed his
silence to be a bad omen to him; and that he had nothing else to expect
but an unhappy death, and a more unhappy eternity. In this thought, he
went with all diligence to find the Father, and falling down before him,
"Your silence," said he, "has spoken powerfully to my heart: I have not
enjoyed one moment of repose since you parted from me: Ah, Father, if my
everlasting damnation be not already fixed, I put myself into your hands;
do with me what you shall judge necessary for the salvation of my soul,
behold me ready to pay you a blind obedience."
Xavier embraced him; and after he had given him to understand that the
mercies of the Lord are infinite, that it is our duty never to despair,
that he who sometimes refuses to sinners the hour of repentance, always
grants pardon to the penitent; he caused him to put away those occasions
of his sin, and disposed him to a general confession, the fruit of which
was a chaste and Christian life.
In short, the Father did what he could desire to be done at Meliapor; and
witnesses of known integrity have deposed on oath, that he left the town
so different from what it was, at his coming thither, that it was hardly
to be known for the same place; which also gave him so entire a
satisfaction, that giving it a thousand benedictions, he said that there
was not in all the Indies a more Christian town. And at the same time he
prophecied, that one day it should become flourishing and wealthy; which
prediction was accomplished some few years afterward.
Though all these conversions drew the public veneration on Father
Francis, it seemed that God took pleasure in making the name of his
servant yet more illustrious, by certain wonderful events. A merchant of
Meliapor being just ready to embark for Malacca, went to take his leave
of him. In receiving his blessing, he begged of him some little token of
his friendship. The Father, who was very poor, could find nothing to give
him but the chaplet which was hanging at his neck: "This chaplet,"[1]
said he to the merchant, "shall not be unprofitable to you, provided you
repose your trust in the Virgin Mary." The merchant went away in full
assurance of the divine protection, and without fear of pirate
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