the canon.
"There are few cathedrals like ours, Senor Don Jose! But of course you,
who have seen so many wonders in foreign countries, will find nothing
remarkable in our old church. We poor provincials of Orbajosa, however,
think it divine. Master Lopez of Berganza, one of the prebendaries
of the cathedral, called it in the sixteenth century _pulchra
augustissima_. But perhaps for a man of your learning it would
possess no merit, and some market constructed of iron would seem more
beautiful."

The ironical remarks of the wily canon annoyed Pepe Rey more and more
every moment, but, determined to control himself and to conceal his
anger, he answered only with vague words. Dona Perfecta then took up the
theme and said playfully:

"Take care, Pepito; I warn you that if you speak ill of our holy church
we shall cease to be friends. You know a great deal, you are a man
eminent for your knowledge on every subject, but if you are going to
discover that that grand edifice is not the eighth wonder of the world
you will do well to keep your knowledge to yourself and leave us in our
ignorance."

"Far from thinking that the building is not handsome," responded Pepe,
"the little I have seen of its exterior has seemed to me of imposing
beauty. So there is no need for you to be alarmed, aunt. And I am very
far from being a savant."

"Softly; softly," said the canon, extending his hand and giving his
mouth a truce from eating in order to talk. "Stop there--don't come now
pretending modesty, Senor Don Jose; we are too well aware of your great
merit, of the high reputation you enjoy and the important part you play
wherever you are, for that. Men like you are not to be met with every
day. But now that I have extolled your merits in this way----"

He stopped to eat a mouthful, and when his tongue was once more at
liberty he continued thus:

"Now that I have extolled your merits in this way, permit me to express
a different opinion with the frankness which belongs to my character.
Yes, Senor Don Jose, yes, Senor Don Cayetano; yes, senora and senorita,
science, as the moderns study and propagate it, is the death of
sentiment and of every sweet illusion. Under its influence the life of
the spirit declines, every thing is reduced to fixed rules, and even the
sublime charms of nature disappear. Science destroys the marvellous in
the arts, as well as faith in the soul. Science says that every thing
is a lie, and would reduce every thing