To the new town (in which the simple-hearted priest remained eight years), in 1753, came Don Carlos Morphi, an Irishman, and Governor of Paraguay; and, having stayed five days with Dobrizhoffer, departed, marvelling at the accuracy with which the new-made Christians (_Cristianos nuevos_) managed their double-basses, their flageolets, their violins, and, in general, all their instruments, whether of music or of war. Modestly, but with prolixity, as befits a virtuous, God-fearing man, the simple Jesuit relates a special instance of the way in which he was enabled to work both for his own glory and for the profit of the Lord. Not far from San Estanislao was situate the forest of M’baevera, in which grew quantities of trees from which the _yerba-maté_ (Paraguayan tea) was made. To reach it was a work of pain and trouble, for through the woods a track called a _picada_ had to be cut; the rivers were deep, bridgeless, and had to have branches strewed along the track to give a footing to the struggling mules.[245] An expedition having been sent under a certain Spaniard called Villalba to collect _yerba_, came suddenly upon a deserted Indian hut. As they had started quite unarmed, except with knives and axes to cut down the boughs, a panic seized them, and, instead of collecting any leaves,[246] they hurried back to San Estanislao. No sooner did Dobrizhoffer hear the news than he set out to find the Indians, with a few neophytes, upon his own account. Having travelled the ‘mournful solitudes’ for eighteen days, they came upon no sign of Indians, and returned footsore and hungry, ‘the improvement of our patience being our sole recompense.’ He himself walked all the way, and ‘often barefoot’, suffering ‘what neither I can describe nor yet my reader credit.’ The missionary calling has undergone considerable change since 1750. Hardships which the greater faith or stronger constitutions of the missionaries of the last century rendered endurable are now largely fallen out of fashion, and your missionary seldom walks barefoot, even in a wood, because to do so would give offence, and bring discredit on the society for which he works.