THE DISAGREEMENT INCREASES
“Perhaps you think,” said Doña Perfecta, with a tinge of conceit in her
tones, “that Señor Don Inocencio is going to remain silent and not give
you an answer to each and every one of those points.”
“Oh, no!” exclaimed the canon, arching his eyebrows. “I will not attempt
to measure my poor abilities with a champion so valiant and at the same
time so well armed. Señor Don José knows every thing; that is to say, he
has at his command the whole arsenal of the exact sciences. Of course
I know that the doctrines he upholds are false; but I have neither the
talent nor the eloquence to combat them. I would employ theological
arguments, drawn from revelation, from faith, from the Divine Word; but
alas! Señor Don José, who is an eminent savant, would laugh at theology,
at faith, at revelation, at the holy prophets, at the gospel. A poor
ignorant priest, an unhappy man who knows neither mathematics, nor
German philosophy with its _ego_ and its _non ego_, a poor dominie, who
knows only the science of God and something of the Latin poets, cannot
enter into combat with so valiant a champion.”
Pepe Rey burst into a frank laugh.
“I see that Señor Don Inocencio,” he said, “has taken seriously all the
nonsense I have been talking. Come, Señor Canon, regard the whole matter
as a jest, and let it end there. I am quite sure that my opinions do not
in reality differ greatly from yours. You are a pious and learned man;
it is I who am ignorant. If I have allowed myself to speak in jest,
pardon me, all of you--that is my way.”
“Thanks!” responded the presbyter, visibly annoyed. “Is that the way you
want to get out of it now? I am well aware, we are all well aware, that
the views you have sustained are your own. It could not be otherwise.
You are the man of the age. It cannot be denied that you have a
wonderful, a truly wonderful intellect. While you were talking, at the
same time that I inwardly deplored errors so great, I could not but
admire, I will confess it frankly, the loftiness of expression, the
prodigious fluency, the surprising method of your reasoning, the force
of your arguments. What a head, Señora Doña Perfecta, what a head your
young nephew has! When I was in Madrid and they took me to the Atheneum,
I confess that I was amazed to see the wonderful talent which God has
bestowed on the atheists and the Protestants.”
“Señor Don Inocencio,” said Doña Perfecta, looking alternately at her
nephew and her friend, “I think that in judging this boy you are more
than benevolent. Don’t get angry, Pepe, or mind what I say, for I am
neither a savante, nor a philosopher, nor a theologian; but it seems to
me that Señor Don Inocencio has just given a proof of his great modesty
and Christian charity in not crushing you as he could have done if he
had wished.”
“Oh, señora!” said the ecclesiastic.
“That is the way with him,” continued Doña Perfecta, “always pretending
to know nothing. And he knows more than the seven doctors put together.
Ah, Señor Don Inocencio, how well the name you have suits you! But don’t
affect an unseasonable humility now. Why, my nephew has no pretensions.
All he knows is what he has been taught. If he has been taught error,
what more can he desire than that you should enlighten him and take him
out of the limbo of his false doctrines?”
“Just so; I desire nothing more than that the Señor Penitentiary should
take me out,”--murmured Pepe, comprehending that without intending it,
he had got himself into a labyrinth.
“I am a poor priest, whose only learning is some knowledge of the
ancients,” responded Don Inocencio. “I recognize the immense value, from
a worldly point of view, of Señor Don José’s scientific knowledge, and
before so brilliant an oracle I prostrate myself and am silent.”
So saying, the canon folded his hands across his breast and bent his
head. Pepe Rey was somewhat disturbed because of the turn which his mind
had chosen to give to an idle discussion jestingly followed up, and
in which he had engaged only to enliven the conversation a little. He
thought that the most prudent course to pursue would be to end at once
so dangerous a debate, and for this purpose he addressed a question to
Señor Don Cayetano when the latter, shaking off the drowsiness which
had overcome him after the dessert, offered the guests the indispensable
toothpicks stuck in a china peacock with outspread tail.
“Yesterday I discovered a hand grasping the handle of an amphora, on
which there are a number of hieratic characters. I will show it to you,”
said Don Cayetano, delighted to introduce a favorite theme.
“I suppose that Señor de Rey is very expert in archaeological matters
also,” said the canon, who, still implacable, pursued his victim to his
last retreat.
“Of course,” said Doña Perfecta. “What is there that these clever
children of our day do not understand? They have all the sciences at
their fingers’ ends. The universities and the academics teach them every
thing in a twinkling, giving them a patent of learning.”
“Oh, that is unjust!” responded the canon, observing the pained
expression of the engineer’s countenance.
“My aunt is right,” declared Pepe. “At the present day we learn a little
of every thing, and leave school with the rudiments of various studies.”
“I was saying,” continued the canon, “that you are no doubt a great
archaeologist.”
“I know absolutely nothing of that science,” responded the young man.
“Ruins are ruins, and I have never cared to cover myself with dust going
among them.”
Don Cayetano made an expressive grimace.
“That is not to say that I condemn archaeology,” said Doña Perfecta’s
nephew quickly, observing with pain that he could not utter a word
without wounding some one. “I know that from that dust issues history.
Those studies are delightful and very useful.”
“You,” said the Penitentiary, putting his toothpick into the last of
his back teeth, “are no doubt more inclined to controversial studies. An
excellent idea has just occurred to me, Señor Don José; you ought to be
a lawyer.”
“Law is a profession which I abhor,” replied Pepe Rey. “I know many
estimable lawyers, among them my father, who is the best of men; but,
in spite of so favorable a specimen, I could never had brought myself to
practise a profession which consists in defending with equal readiness
the _pro_ and the _contra_ of a question. I know of no greater
misjudgment, no greater prejudice, no greater blindness, than parents
show in their eagerness to dedicate their sons to the law. The chief and
the most terrible plague of Spain is the crowd of our young lawyers, for
whose existence a fabulous number of lawsuits are necessary. Lawsuits
multiply in proportion to the demand. And even thus, numbers are left
without employment, and, as a jurisconsult cannot put his hand to
the plough or seat himself at the loom, the result is that brilliant
squadron of idlers full of pretensions, who clamor for places, embarrass
the administration, agitate public opinion, and breed revolutions. In
some way they must make a living. It would be a greater misfortune if
there were lawsuits enough for all of them.”
“Pepe, for Heaven’s sake, take care what you say,” said Doña Perfecta,
in a tone of marked severity. “But excuse him, Señor Don Inocencio, for
he is not aware that you have a nephew who, although he has only lately
left the university, is a prodigy in the law.”
“I speak in general terms,” said Pepe, with firmness. “Being, as I am,
the son of a distinguished lawyer, I cannot be ignorant of the fact
that there are many men who practise that noble profession with honor to
themselves.”
“No; my nephew is only a boy yet,” said the canon, with affected
humility. “Far be it from me to assert that he is a prodigy of learning,
like Señor de Rey. In time, who can tell? His talents are neither
brilliant nor seductive. Of course, Jacinto’s ideas are solid and his
judgment is sound. What he knows he knows thoroughly. He is unacquainted
with sophistries and hollow phrases.”
Pepe Rey appeared every moment more and more disturbed. The idea that,
without desiring it, his opinions should be in opposition to those of
the friends of his aunt, vexed him, and he resolved to remain silent
lest he and Don Inocencio should end by throwing the plates at each
other’s heads. Fortunately the cathedral bell, calling the canon to the
important duties of the choir, extricated him from his painful position.
The venerable ecclesiastic rose and took leave of every one, treating
Rey with as much amiability and kindness as if they had been old and
dear friends. The canon, after offering his services to Pepe for all
that he might require, promised to present his nephew to him in order
that the young man might accompany him to see the town, speaking in the
most affectionate terms and deigning, on leaving the room, to pat him
on the shoulder. Pepe Rey, accepting with pleasure these formulas of
concord, nevertheless felt indescribably relieved when the priest had
left the dining-room and the house.