The period is however arrived, when men begin to abandon themselves exclusively to the cold speculations of reason, and this fatal maxim manifests itself but too evidently in the practical life. Rarely any thing is undertaken before it is pondered and weighed most anxiously with a pusillanimous minuteness. And this is one of the chief causes of the present scarcity of great and striking actions. The sacred flame of enthusiasm extinguishes, and every energy of soul dies away along with it. While reason wastes her whole strength in barren speculations, the demands and wants of our heart remain unsatisfied, a kind of insensibility deals upon us, the mind grows pusillanimous, and all noble passions are suffocated. No, no! this is no age in which great geniuses can thrive! Reasoning has produced but very few immortal deeds; faith, however, although it should have been only the faith of man in his natural abilities, has frequently rendered impossible possible.—If so, what miracles will faith in the assistance of an omnipotent being, be able to perform? The first King of Portugal has given us the most glorious proof of the truth of this assertion: he went, as you know from history, with four thousand men against the infidels, and was opposed by five kings with four hundred thousand Moors. Terror and dismay seized his little army at this sight; however the celebrated apparition through which God promised him the victory over his enemies, revived the broken spirit of his troops. And what else but faith in this promise could have made him risk and gain a battle, in which one man had to encounter an hundred?”
“My dear Marquis, I have been interrupted again by the visit of a great prelate, and, with your permission, shall communicate to you the substance of what he has told me. The Jews, he said, have, as you will know, offered to the new Regent, on his accession to the throne, to pay a great sum of money to him, if he would grant them liberty to live and to trade in the country as external Christians, without being persecuted by the Inquisition. It would have been highly advantageous to religion, if this liberty had been granted to the Jews; for although they should have visited the Christian churches at first only for form’s sake, and observed only the external rites of worship, yet many would have been edified, and convinced of the truth of Christianity so irresistibly, that they would have seriously embraced the Christian religion. The Inquisitors themselves have intimated this to the King. However the ————, I do not know how to call him, who cares little for the propagation of faith, has refused to grant this petition of the Jews. The Inquisition has informed the Pope of it; and the holy father, who as yet has refused to acknowledge his royal authority, will now have an additional reason for not confirming the usurped dignity of a free thinker, who injures the interest of the church whenever opportunity offers. I have, however, great reason to suspect that our new King foments these dissensions designedly, for some horrid purpose. Not contented with having alienated the nation from their lawful Sovereign, he also endeavours to obtain an opportunity of alienating them from the chief of the church. O Marquis! O Duke! what gloomy prospects for all those who are resolved to live and to die in the religion of their ancestors.
“Stop,” the Marquis exclaimed, “he shall not dare to carry matters to that point; by heaven, he shall not.” My father had not yet ceased giving vent to his indignation, when the other prelate, whom I mentioned in my last letter, joined us. The two prelates were rejoiced to see each other, and concealed their sentiments so little from each other, that they both avowed their opinions of the new King without the least reserve. ‘I cannot conceive how you,’ said he, who had joined us, turning to my father and me, ‘who are sprung from royal blood, can submit to the humiliation of obeying a usurper, who will do every thing in his power to humble your family as much as possible. Don’t you perceive that he confers the highest dignities on other people, while he, out of a cowardly policy, keeps his nearest relations at a distance, and in profound submission? The King of Spa—n knows your merits, and is capable of rewarding them properly. Who would not rather hold an important office under the greatest Monarch, than live in inactivity and obscurity, under the most insignificant King in Europe? These are the sentiments of many nobles who are still firmly attached to their old lawful Sovereign.’
“Dear Marquis, my heart is deeply afflicted, and strange ideas are crossing my head. What must I do? Alumbrado says nothing, but commit every thing to the paternal care of God.
“To day I received your letter, in which you reproach me for my long silence. I am, however, not sorry that my letter, which I wanted to send eight days ago, has been kept back through negligence, for now I shall be able to conclude it with the relation of a most extraordinary incident.
“I used for some time to visit every evening our favourite spot before the town, which always attracted me very much, partly by its natural charms, and partly by the undisturbed solitude one enjoys there. On the left side, a chain of hills, that form a beautiful group; on the right, a wood, inclosing the extensive plain, and in the middle the prospect of the distant blue mountains. You know what an enchanting effect that spot produces, particularly at sun-set; and thither I took a walk every evening. The way to that charming place is decorated with the ruins of an old chapel, which partly is surrounded with a half decayed wall. Approaching those ruins last evening, I saw Alumbrado step forth with hasty paces. ‘Stop!’ he exclaimed, ‘do you know that you will be a dead man if you proceed a step farther?’ Alumbrado’s unexpected appearance, his intelligence, and the seriousness of his countenance convulsed my nerves. ‘A dead man?’ I exclaimed. ‘Yes!’ said he, ‘did I not foretell you that the King would vent his resentment against you? If you go fifty steps farther, you will bleed under the hands of his banditti. You stare at me,’ he continued. ‘If you wish to be convinced of it, then follow me into the chapel, and let us change cloaths; I shall pursue this path, wrapt in your cloak, and the hired assassins will fall upon me, under the mistaken notion that I am the person whom they have been ordered by the King to assassinate. If you will ascend to the top of this turret, you may witness the whole scene.’ I shuddered with horror, and peremptorily refused to submit to it. ‘You need not to be under the least apprehension for my life,’ he replied. ‘All that I desire of you is to make no noise when you see me fall, but to go quietly home without mentioning to any one what you will have seen. We shall meet again at your house.’ All my objections availed nothing; we exchanged our dress, he saw me to the top of the turret, and left me. I pursued him with anxious looks and beating heart.
“Alumbrado had scarcely reached the skirts of the wood, when I heard the report of a pistol, and saw him drop down, upon which three ruffians darted forth from the bushes, gave him some stabs, and carried him into the wood. I staggered down the narrow staircase by which I had ascended the turret, and went home, thrilled with emotions that surpass all power of description. I sat up till after midnight, but no Alumbrado came; however, at six o’clock he entered my apartment. I cannot describe what I felt on seeing him. He was unhurt, but nevertheless I staggered back at the sight of him. ‘Alumbrado!’ said I, after a pause of dumb astonishment, ‘do I really see you alive after the scene my eyes have witnessed last night?’ ‘Pistols and daggers,’ he replied, ‘cannot hurt the man who is under the immediate protection of God. Come,’ added he, ‘let us go to your father.’
“I related to my parent the incident of the preceding night. He seemed to be petrified. The cruel villainy of the King, and the supernatural power of Alumbrado, appeared to have carried him beyond himself; the thanks which he wanted to offer to the latter for the preservation of my life, and curses against the King, hovered at the same time on his lips; but he could not speak.
“Let us take a walk in the garden,” Alumbrado said. We went; but I shall not repeat the conversation that took place. Yet I do not think that Alumbrado has added fuel to the fire. ‘The Duke of B——a,’ said he, ‘is King and accountable to no other tribunal but that of God. No mortal dare lift up his hand against him without the express command of God or his Vicegerent. I have received no such order, and I think you neither. All that you can do is to be on your guard against the King, and to mention to no one the villainous transaction of last night. Will you promise this? Your own safety requires it.’ We promised it.