These discourses did not at all daunt the Father. He saw his soldier playing whole nights together, for he was a great gamester. He took no notice of his extravagancies, and sometimes heard him swear without seeming to regard it. Only one day he said to him, that gaming required a composed spirit, and if he took not the better heed, that passion, which he had in play, would make him lose. The soldier, brutal as he was, grew insensibly to have a kindness for a man, who was so much concerned in his advantages, and took pleasure in hearing him discourse not only of war, and sea affairs, but also of religion and morality. In conclusion, he made some reflections on the horror of his life, and felt even some remorse of conscience for it. Being one day together with the Father, in a private part of the ship, Xavier asked him, to whom he had confessed himself before he went on shipboard? "Ah Father," said the soldier, "I have not been at confession these many years!" "And what do you imagine would become of you," said the holy man, "supposing you should be killed in this action, and in the condition you now are?" "I would once have confessed myself," replied the soldier, "at least for fashion and decency, but the vicar of Goa would not so much as hear me, but told me I was a reprobate, and deserved nothing but hell-fire." "The vicar was, in my opinion," said Xavier, "somewhat too severe, to treat you in that manner. He had perhaps his reasons for that usage, and I have mine to treat you otherwise. For indeed the mercies of our Lord are infinite, and God would have us as indulgent to our brethren, as he himself is to us. Thus, when the sins, of which you find yourself guilty, are a thousand times more numerous and more crying than they are, I shall have the patience to hear them all, and shall make no difficulty of giving you absolution, provided you take those thoughts and resolutions which I shall endeavour to infuse into you."