indeed prepared, as by the Divine hand, by an occurrence which affrighted and horrified them.  There was a Spanish speaking negro who entered the service of the captain there, and was accompanied by his wife.  It became necessary for him to go away, to procure some articles necessary to the progress of the work.  Returning one night, he found his wife with another man, and, maddened by jealousy, he killed the adulterer with a lance and wounded the woman, leaving her for dead.  This was a deplorable occurrence, for the murdered man was a youth of comely parts and beloved by all; and to see him thus slain—­a reputable man, without confession, and in such circumstances, by the hand of a negro—­was sufficient to lead all to do penance.  For assistance in this, it was necessary for Father Francisco Vicente to proceed to Panamao; and he, finding the harvest ready, was soon reaping, with his sermons, discourses, and confessions, the now ripened grain—­as that father reports in one of his letters, which runs as follows:  “I reached Panamao, on Saturday before the last Sunday of Advent, and we were welcomed by the captain with much affection and kindness.  It is a large population which has been gathered there, of both Indians and Spaniards, and among them God our Lord gave us a goodly harvest of souls.  On arriving there I sought to speak to them and show them my affection.  At the outset, I undertook to have a church built; and this was done so that we said mass on the following day.  I also preached to them on matters relating to sin, explaining to them its hideous and injurious nature—­especially by recalling to their minds that recent example or sermon which our Lord had preached to them a short time before.  They were all deeply moved, and resolved to ask me for confession and the cure for their souls.  In order that so rich a prize should not be lost, I labored assiduously, preaching now to the Spaniards, now to the Indians.  On that Sunday I preached three sermons, and tried, moreover, by special discourses to attract the headmen and chiefs, explaining to them how they ought to make confession.  When they understood that I must go immediately after the first day of Easter, they entreated me to remain, if only until the third day, in order that they might make their confessions as they should.  I consented to this; and from that hour, all the people, Spaniards as well as Indians, began to consecrate themselves with such devotion as to make me ashamed.  I did not lose this opportunity—­now encouraging and consoling them, now removing their difficulties, now instructing them; and striving most heartily to assist them.  The confessions began before dawn, about four o’clock in the morning; and the people came with general confessions for a whole life or for many years, uttering them with tears and sobs.  Indeed, it was necessary to loosen the reins and encourage them, for it was not necessary to seek, as is usually done, incentives to contrition and grief.  During this mission some