s they are
mutilated and disfigured by the vandalism of the people. They are
constantly thinking of the past, and yet they despise its remains;
what a country of dreams and desolation! Spain is no longer a country,
it is an ill-arranged and dusty museum, full of old things that
attract all the curious of Europe, but in which even the ruins are
ruined."

The eyes of Don Martin, the young curate, fastened themselves on
Gabriel. They seemed to speak to him and express the pleasure with
which he heard his words. The other listeners, silent and with bowed
heads, did not feel less the enchantment of those propositions which
sounded so audaciously in the restful and rank atmosphere of the
cloister. Don Antolin was the only one who laughed, finding Gabriel's
ideas quite charming but absolutely crazy It was getting late and the
sun had sunk below the roofs of the Cathedral. Silver Stick's niece
called to them once again from the door of her house.

"We are coming, child," said the priest, "but I have one thing first
to say to this gentleman."

And addressing himself to Luna, he continued:

"But, Hombre de Dios![1]--but I ought not to call you that as you
are so turbulent--you think everything is out of joint. The Spanish
Church, worn out as you say, has become very poor, and still you say
this revolution is a very small affair. What do you wish for? What
is it that you desire so that things might be settled? Tell us your
secret quickly and let us go, for the cold is very sharp."

[Footnote 1: Man of God.]

And he laughed again, looking at Gabriel with paternal pity as though
he were a child.

"My remedy!" exclaimed Gabriel, taking no notice of the priest's
gesture. "I have no remedy whatever, it is the progress of humanity
that alone offers one. All the nations on earth have passed through
the same evolutions; first of all they were ruled by the sword, then
by faith, and now by science. We ourselves have been ruled by warriors
and priests, but now we tarry at the gate of modern life, without the
strength or wish to take science by the hand, who is the only guide
we could have, hence our sad situation. Science is nowadays in
everything--in agriculture, in all manufactures, in arts and crafts,
in the culture and well-being of the people; it is even in war. Spain
still lives far from the sun of science, at most she knows a pale
reflection, cold and feeble, that comes to us from foreign countries.
The failure of faith has