vicar, and that I speak to you of nothing but Pepita.
But this is natural. Here no one speaks of anything else. One would
suppose the whole place to be full of the spirit, of the thought, of
the image, of this singular woman, in regard to whom I have not been
able to determine if she be an angel or an accomplished coquette, full
of _instinctive astuteness_, although the words may seem to involve a
contradiction. For I am fully convicted in my own mind that this woman
does not play the coquette, nor seek to gain the good-will of others, in
order to gratify her vanity.

Pepita's soul is full of candor and sincerity. One has only to see her,
to be convinced of this. Her dignified and graceful bearing, her slender
figure, the smoothness and clearness of her forehead head, the soft and
pure light of her eyes, all blend into a fitting harmony, in which there
is not a single discordant note.

How deeply I regret having come to this place, and having remained here
so long! I had passed my life in your house, and in the seminary; I had
seen and known no one but my companions and my teachers; I knew nothing
of the world but through speculation and through theory; and suddenly I
find myself thrown into the midst of this world, though it be only that
of a village; and distracted from my studies, meditations, and prayers
by a thousand profane objects.

_April 20th._

Your last letters, dearest uncle, have been a welcome consolation to my
soul. Benevolent, as always, you admonish and enlighten me with prudent
and useful reflections.

It is true, my impetuosity is worthy of reprobation. I wish to attain my
aims, without making use of the means requisite to their attainment; I
wish to reach the journey's end, without first treading, step by step,
the rough and thorny path.

I complain of an aridity of spirit in prayer, of inability to fix my
thoughts, of a proneness to dissipate my tenderness on childish objects;
I desire to elevate myself to and be absorbed in God, to attain at once
to the contemplation of essential being, and yet I disdain mental prayer
and rational and discursive meditation. How, without attaining to its
purity, how, without beholding its light, can I hope to enjoy the
delights of divine love?

I am by nature arrogant, and I shall therefore endeavor to humiliate
myself in my own eyes, in order that God may not suffer the spirit of
evil, in punishment of my pride and presumption, to cover me with
humiliation