s
reading, of his boyish arrogance, of his aimless tenderness in the
innocent days of his college life. When he remembered that he had at
times thought himself the recipient of supernatural gifts and graces,
that he heard mystic whisperings, that his spirit held communion with
superior beings; when he remembered that he had fancied himself almost
beginning to tread the path that leads to spiritual unity, through
contemplation of the Divine, penetrating into the recesses of the soul,
and mounting up to the region of pure intelligence, he smiled to
himself, and began to suspect that during the period in question he had
not been altogether in his right mind. It had all been simply the result
of his own arrogance. He had neither done penance, nor passed long years
in meditation; he did not possess, nor had he ever possessed, sufficient
merits for God to favor him with privileges like these. The greatest
proof he could give himself of the truth of this, the greatest certainty
he could possess that the supernatural favors he had enjoyed were
spurious; mere recollections of the authors he had read, was that not
one of them had ever given him the rapture of Pepita's "I love you," or
of the soft touch of her hand caressing his dark locks.

Don Luis had recourse to another species of Christian humility to
justify in his eyes what he now no longer called his fall, but his
change of purpose. He confessed himself unworthy to be a priest; he
reconciled himself to being a commonplace married man, a good sort of
country gentleman, like any other, taking care of his vines and olives,
and bringing up his children--for he now desired to have children--and
to being a model husband at the side of his Pepita.

* * * * *

Here I think myself again in the necessity--responsible as I am for the
publication and divulgation of this history--of interpolating various
reflections and explanations of my own.

I said at the beginning of the story that I was inclined to think that
the narrative part, or _paralipomena_, was composed by the reverend dean
for the purpose of completing the story, and supplying incidents not
related in the letters; but I had not at that time read the manuscript
with attention. Now, on observing the freedom with which certain matters
are treated, and the indulgence with which certain frailties are
regarded by the author, I am compelled to ask whether the reverend dean,
with the severity of