. Alas! I have the
conviction that there are men of unstained rectitude who are ready
to murmur scornfully the word desertion. Thus the taste of innocent
adventure may be made bitter to the palate. The part of the inexplicable
should be al lowed for in appraising the conduct of men in a world where
no explanation is final. No charge of faithlessness ought to be lightly
uttered. The appearances of this perishable life are deceptive, like
everything that falls under the judgment of our imperfect senses. The
inner voice may remain true enough in its secret counsel. The fidelity
to a special tradition may last through the events of an unrelated
existence, following faithfully, too, the traced way of an inexplicable
impulse.

It would take too long to explain the intimate alliance of
contradictions in human nature which makes love itself wear at times
the desperate shape of betrayal. And perhaps there is no possible
explanation. Indulgence--as somebody said--is the most intelligent of
all the virtues. I venture to think that it is one of the least common,
if not the most uncommon of all. I would not imply by this that men
are foolish--or even most men. Far from it. The barber and the priest,
backed by the whole opinion of the village, condemned justly the conduct
of the ingenious hidalgo, who, sallying forth from his native place,
broke the head of the muleteer, put to death a flock of inoffensive
sheep, and went through very doleful experiences in a certain stable.
God forbid that an unworthy churl should escape merited censure by
hanging on to the stirrup-leather of the sublime caballero. His was a
very noble, a very unselfish fantasy, fit for nothing except to raise
the envy of baser mortals. But there is more than one aspect to the
charm of that exalted and dangerous figure. He, too, had his frailties.
After reading so many romances he desired naively to escape with his
very body from the intolerable reality of things. He wished to meet, eye
to eye, the valorous giant Brandabarbaran, Lord of Arabia, whose armour
is made of the skin of a dragon, and whose shield, strapped to his arm,
is the gate of a fortified city. Oh, amiable and natural weakness!
Oh, blessed simplicity of a gentle heart without guile! Who would not
succumb to such a consoling temptation? Nevertheless, it was a form of
self-indulgence, and the ingenious hidalgo of La Mancha was not a
good citizen. The priest and the barber were not unreasonable in their