When we turn to Portugal we find an interesting illustration of the early effect of great prosperity on the Society. On the throne at the time was John III. from whose reign all historians date the downfall of what had become one of the most brilliant and wealthy Powers in Europe. Blind to the gross administrative corruption in his kingdom, and to the decay of the stirring patriotism which had borne the Portuguese flag over the globe, John was concerned only about the religious needs of his country and his new colonies. He had invited Xavier and Rodriguez in 1540, intending to send them to the Indies, but he was so charmed with them that he wished to keep them in Portugal. Ignatius allowed Rodriguez to remain, and Xavier set out on his historic mission to the far east. In this Ignatius showed his usual discernment: Rodriguez proved as supple and graceful a courtier as Xavier proved a fiery missionary. John then wished to entrust the tutorship of his son to Rodriguez, and Ignatius consented. His own followers were puzzled at times to know which _were_ the dignities that they were forbidden to accept. When John asked for a Jesuit confessor, Rodriguez refused, but Ignatius overruled him. The next step was to set up the Inquisition, through the mediation of Ignatius, and Orlandini admits that when, in 1555, the king wished to make Father Merin, his confessor, head of the Inquisition, Ignatius seriously considered the proposal. He did not refuse, as is sometimes said; the negotiations broke down. In this genial atmosphere the Society flourished. Its chief college was at Coimbra, the great university centre, where the Jesuits rapidly ran their course. At first they shocked staid Catholics with the excesses of their zeal. A youth in the college confessed to temptations of the flesh, and was ordered to walk the streets at mid-day without a hat or a cloak, holding a skull in his hand. Another student went forth almost naked in a cold wind, begging from door to door; and, finding a crowd of folk dancing and singing in a church, he mounted the pulpit to admonish them, and was dragged out and severely chastised. At nights Father Simon would send out a procession of youths to cry in the ears of indignant sinners or quiet wine-bibbers some such doggerel as: "Hell, hell, hell, for those in grave sin"; or long processions of children with masks and lanterns paraded the streets and squares. We gather that the boys of Coimbra had a pleasant time during these exhibitions. But the college flourished; there were in a few years a hundred and fifty pupils in it, and it supplied large numbers of missionaries.