But, as a human being, his soul was many times shaken by the storm of doubt. He suffered the cruel assaults of temptation, and; like the Son of God in the Garden of Gethsemane, endured hours of agony which left deep scars upon his soul and diminished, if they did not entirely destroy, his strength. Let us witness one of them.
After he came out of the Ministerio, or from Congress, Mendoza was in the habit of riding in an open carriage through the Retiro. Miguel accompanied him. After whirling for a while among the throng of carriages the minister would begin to feel drowsy and would drop off to sleep, lulled by the gentle motion of the carriage. Miguel, almost always neglectful of the curious and gay sights of the promenade, would meditate, with his eyes fixed on the sky or on the landscape.
It was a mild afternoon, the mildest and most brilliant that spring had as yet bestowed that year on the citizens of Madrid.
The sun was setting. Through the open window our young secretary saw it descending between the trees over the wide plains of Vallecas, descending majestically till it reached the edge of a cloud, and casting a golden trail over the earth.
Carried away by the train of thought which often took possession of him, he began to speculate upon the time during which this orb had thus been hurtling through space. Toward what mysterious region of heaven, was it taking the earth in its tremendous march? From whence had that immense mass originally sprung? When and how would its light become extinguished?
He thought how its history, long as it seems, is only an instant in the history of Creation. In the numberless worlds which are forever forming and perishing, what an insignificant rôle is played by this poor sun, which is the prime actor for us! Why, then, does it seem to us so great and so beautiful? Who saw, before we were created, that "wake of gold," as it is called by the poets? How many thousand years had it been sweeping across the earth without gilding other heads than those of gigantic saurians, pterodactyls, megalosauruses, and other fearful monsters?
The veil that hides the infinite mysteries of space—will it some day be removed? will there be creatures who will ever understand them?
He spent much time buried in such thoughts, in ecstatic contemplation of the horizons, brought up before him by the frequent and long turns that they took in the carriage. When he came down from these heights, and cast his eyes on the equipages which were gathered in that delectable place, he was given the same impression as though he were looking upon an anthill; and what else was it, except that the ants, instead of working, were riding? By his side there were crowded together a multitude of atomic animals, with their faces fixed on the ground, carried along by other animals whom they had made their slaves. But ants also own slaves. All the masters, and the horses also, appeared to believe that they themselves, and nothing else, constituted the world; and their schemes, their desires, their loves, their restaurants, and their daily allowance of oats, the only and highest ends of creation.
But there among the pedestrians he saw a pale face adorned with a long white beard, with melancholy, dreamy eyes likewise fastened on the skies. As he passed, this face smiled affectionately. Miguel replied, saying, "Good afternoon, Don Ventura."
It was the tenderest and most spontaneous of Spanish poets, the famous Ruiz Aguilera. Then his eyes fell upon Mendoza, who was dozing deliciously. He looked at him attentively for a few moments, and suddenly felt inclined to laugh.