At times he was as mischievous as a boy, at times as sedate as a man.  In very truth, if Jacinto had not had a little, and even a great deal of liking for pretty girls, his uncle would have thought him perfect.  The worthy man preached to him unceasingly on this point, hastening to clip the wings of every audacious fancy.  But not even this mundane inclination of the young man could cool the great affection which our worthy canon bore the charming offspring of his dear niece, Maria Remedios.  Where the young lawyer was concerned, every thing else must give way.  Even the grave and methodical habits of the worthy ecclesiastic were altered when they interfered with the affairs of his precocious pupil.  That order and regularity, apparently as fixed as the laws of a planetary system, were interrupted whenever Jacinto was ill or had to take a journey.  Useless celibacy of the clergy!  The Council of Trent prohibits them from having children of their own, but God—­and not the Devil, as the proverb says—­gives them nephews and nieces in order that they may know the tender anxieties of paternity.

Examining impartially the qualities of this clever boy, it was impossible not to recognize that he was not wanting in merit.  His character was in the main inclined to uprightness, and noble actions awakened a frank admiration in his soul.  With respect to his intellectual endowments and his social knowledge, they were sufficient to enable him to become in time one of those notabilities of whom there are so many in Spain; he might be what we take delight in calling hyperbolically a distinguished patrician, or an eminent public man; species which, owing to their great abundance, are hardly appreciated at their just value.  In the tender age in which the university degree serves as a sort of solder between boyhood and manhood, few young men—­especially if they have been spoiled by their masters—­are free from an offensive pedantry, which, if it gives them great importance beside their mamma’s arm-chair, makes them very ridiculous when they are among grave and experienced men.  Jacinto had this defect, which was excusable in him, not only because of his youth, but also because his worthy uncle stimulated his puerile vanity by injudicious praise.

When the introduction was over they resumed their walk.  Jacinto was silent.  The canon, returning to the interrupted theme of the pyros which were to be grafted and the vites which were to be trimmed, said: 

“I am already aware that Senor Don Jose is a great agriculturist.”

“Not at all; I know nothing whatever about the subject,” responded the young man, observing with no little annoyance the canon’s mania of supposing him to be learned in all the sciences.

“Oh, yes! a great agriculturist,” continued the Penitentiary; “but on agricultural subjects, don’t quote the latest treatises to me.  For me the whole of that science, Senor de Rey, is condensed in what I call the Bible of the Field, in the ‘Georgics’ of the immortal Roman.  It is all admirable, from that grand sentence, Nec vero terroe ferre omnes omnia possunt—­that is to say, that not every soil is suited to every tree, Senor Don Jose—­to the exhaustive treatise on bees, in which the poet describes the habits of those wise little animals, defining the drone in these words: