more；　For　that　purpose　He　gave　him　in　charge　to　his　Friend；　the
  former　Superior　of　the　Capuchins。　　The　Abbot；　a　very　Monk；　used
  all　his　endeavours　to　persuade　the　Boy　that　happiness　existed
  not　without　the　walls　of　a　Convent。　　He　succeeded　fully。　　To
  deserve　admittance　into　the　order　of　St。　Francis　was　Ambrosio's
  highest　ambition。　　His　Instructors　carefully　repressed　those
  virtues　whose　grandeur　and　disinterestedness　were　ill…suited　to
  the　Cloister。　　Instead　of　universal　benevolence；　He　adopted　a
  selfish　partiality　for　his　own　particular　establishment：　　He　was
  taught　to　consider　compassion　for　the　errors　of　Others　as　a　crime
  of　the　blackest　dye：　　The　noble　frankness　of　his　temper　was
  exchanged　for　servile　humility；　and　in　order　to　break　his　natural
  spirit；　the　Monks　terrified　his　young　mind　by　placing　before　him
  all　the　horrors　with　which　Superstition　could　furnish　them：　　They
  painted　to　him　the　torments　of　the　Damned　in　colours　the　most
  dark；　terrible；　and　fantastic；　and　threatened　him　at　the
  slightest　fault　with　eternal　perdition。　　No　wonder　that　his
  imagination　constantly　dwelling　upon　these　fearful　objects　should
  have　rendered　his　character　timid　and　apprehensive。　　Add　to　this；
  that　his　long　absence　from　the　great　world；　and　total
  unacquaintance　with　the　common　dangers　of　life；　made　him　form　of
  them　an　idea　far　more　dismal　than　the　reality。　　While　the　Monks
  were　busied　in　rooting　out　his　virtues　and　narrowing　his
  sentiments；　they　allowed　every　vice　which　had　fallen　to　his
  share　to　arrive　at　full　perfection。　　He　was　suffered　to　be
  proud；　vain；　ambitious；　and　disdainful：　　He　was　jealous　of　his
  Equals；　and　despised　all　merit　but　his　own：　　He　was　implacable
  when　offended；　and　cruel　in　his　revenge。　Still　in　spite　of　the
  pains　taken　to　pervert　them；　his　natural　good　qualities　would
  occasionally　break　through　the　gloom　cast　over　them　so　carefully：
  At　such　times　the　contest　for　superiority　between　his　real　and
  acquired　character　was　striking　and　unaccountable　to　those
  unacquainted　with　his　original　disposition。　　He　pronounced　the
  most　severe　sentences　upon　Offenders；　which；　the　moment　after；
  Compassion　induced　him　to　mitigate：　　He　undertook　the　most　daring
  enterprizes；　which　the　fear　of　their　consequences　soon　obliged
  him　to　abandon：　　His　inborn　genius　darted　a　brilliant　light　upon
  subjects　the　most　obscure；　and　almost　instantaneously　his
  Superstition　replunged　them　in　darkness　more　profound　than　that
  from　which　they　had　just　been　rescued。　　His　Brother　Monks；
  regarding　him　as　a　Superior　Being；　remarked　not　this
  contradiction　in　their　Idol's　conduct。　　They　were　persuaded　that
  what　He　did　must　be　right；　and　supposed　him　to　have　good　reasons
  for　changing　his　resolutions。　　The　fact　was；　that　the　different
  sentiments　with　which　Education　and　Nature　had　inspired　him
  were　combating　in　his　bosom：　　It　remained　for　his　passions；　which
  as　yet　no　opportunity　had　called　into　play；　to　decide　the
  victory。　　Unfortunately　his　passions　were　the　very　worst　Judges；
  to　whom　He　could　possibly　have　applied。　　His　monastic　seclusion
  had　till　now　been　in　his　favour；　since　it　gave　him　no　room　for
  discovering　his　bad　qualities。　　The　superiority　of　his　talents
  raised　him　too　far　above　his　Companions　to　permit　his　being
  jealous　of　them：　　His　exemplary　piety；　persuasive　eloquence；　and
  pleasing　manners　had　secured　him　universal　Esteem；　and
  consequently　He　had　no　injuries　to　revenge：　　His　Ambition　was
  justified　by　his　acknowledged　merit；　and　his　pride　considered　as
  no　more　than　proper　confidence。　　He　never　saw；　much　less
  conversed　with；　the　other　sex：　　He　was　ignorant　of　the　pleasures
  in　Woman's　power　to　bestow；　and　if　He　read　in　the　course　of　his
  studies
  'That　Men　were　fond；　He　smiled；　and　wondered　how！'
  For　a　time；　spare　diet；　frequent　watching；　and　severe　penance
  cooled　and　represt　the　natural　warmth　of　his　constitution：　　But
  no　sooner　did　opportunity　present　itself；　no　sooner　did　He　catch
  a　glimpse　of　joys　to　which　He　was　still　a　Stranger；　than
  Religion's　barriers　were　too　feeble　to　resist　the　overwhelming
  torrent　of　his　desires。　　All　impediments　yielded　before　the　force
  of　his　temperament；　warm；　sanguine；　and　voluptuous　in　the　excess。
  As　yet　his　other　passions　lay　dormant；　But　they　only　needed　to　be
  once　awakened；　to　display　themselves　with　violence　as　great　and
  irresistible。
  He　continued　to　be　the　admiration　of　Madrid。　　The　Enthusiasm
  created　by　his　eloquence　seemed　rather　to　increase　than　diminish。
  Every　Thursday；　which　was　the　only　day　when　He　appeared　in
  public；　the　Capuchin　Cathedral　was　crowded　with　Auditors；　and
  his　discourse　was　always　received　with　the　same　approbation。　　He
  was　named　Confessor　to　all　the　chief　families　in　Madrid；　and　no
  one　was　counted　fashionable　who　was　injoined　penance　by　any
  other　than　Ambrosio。　　In　his　resolution　of　never　stirring　out　of
  his　Convent；　He　still　persisted。　This　circumstance　created　a
  still　greater　opinion　of　his　sanctity　and　self…denial。　　Above
  all；　the　Women　sang　forth　his　praises　loudly；　less　influenced　by
  devotion　than　by　his　noble　countenance；　majestic　air；　and
  well…turned；　graceful　figure。　　The　Abbey　door　was　thronged　with
  Carriages　from　morning　to　night；　and　the　noblest　and　fairest
  Dames　of　Madrid　confessed　to　the　Abbot　their　secret　peccadilloes。
  The　eyes　of　the　luxurious　Friar　devoured　their　charms：　　Had　his
  Penitents　consulted　those　Interpreters；　He　would　have　needed　no
  other　means　of　expressing　his　desires。　　For　his　misfortune；　they
  were　so　strongly　persuaded　of　his　continence；　that　the
  possibility　of　his　harbouring　indecent　thoughts　never　once
  entered　their　imaginations。　　The　climate's　heat；　'tis　well　known；
  operates　with　no　small　influence　upon　the　constitutions　of　the
  Spanish　Ladies：　　But　the　most　abandoned　would　have　thought　it　an
  easier　task　to　inspire　with　passion　the　marble　Statue　of　St。
  Francis　than　the　cold　and　rigid　heart　of　the　immaculate　Ambrosio。
  On　his　part；　the　Friar　was　little　acquainted　with　the　depravity
  of　the　world；　He　suspected　not　that　but　few　of　his　Penitents
  would　have　rejected　his　addresses。　　Yet　had　He　been　better
  instructed　on　this　head；　the　danger　attending　such　an　attempt
  would　have　sealed　up　his　lips　in　silence。　　He　knew　that　it　would
  be　difficult　for　a　Woman　to　keep　a　secret　so　strange　and　so
  important　as　his　frailty；　and　He　even　trembled　lest　Matilda
  should　betray　him。　　Anxious　to　preserve　a　reputation　which　was
  infinitely　dear　to　him；　He　saw　all　the　risque　of　committing　it　to
  the　power　of　some　vain　giddy　Female；　and　as　the　Beauties　of
  Madrid　affected　only　his　senses　without　touching　his　heart；　He
  forgot　them　as　soon　as　they　were　out　of　his　sight。　　The　danger　of
  discovery；　the　fear　of　being　repulsed；　the　loss　of　reputation；
  all　these　considerations　counselled　him　to　stifle　his　desires：
  And　though　He　now　felt　for　it　the　most　perfect　indifference；　He
  was　necessitated　to　confine　himself　to　Matilda's　person。
  One　morning；　the　confluence　of　Penitents　was　greater　than　usual。
  He　was　detained　in　the　Confessional　Chair　till　a　late　hour。　　At
  length　the　crowd　was　dispatched；　and　He　prepared　to　quit　the
  Chapel；　when　two　Females　entered　and　drew　near　him　with
  humility。　　They　threw　up　their　veils；　and　the　youngest　entreated
  him　to　listen　to　her　for　a　few　moments。　　The　melody　of　her　voice；
  of　that　voice　to　which　no　Man　ever　listened　without　interest；
  immediately　caught　Ambrosio's　attention。　　He　stopped。　　The
  Petitioner　seemed　bowed　down　with　affliction：　　Her　cheeks　were
  pale；　her　eyes　dimmed　with　tears；　and　her　hair　fell　in　disorder
  over　her　face　and　bosom。　　Still　her　countenance　was　so　sweet；　so
  innocent；　so　heavenly；　as　might　have　charmed　an　heart　less
  susceptible；　than　that　which　panted　in　the　Abbot's　breast。　　With
  more　than　usual　softness　of　manner　He　desired　her　to　proceed；　and
  heard　her　speak　as　follows　with　an　emotion　which　increased　every
  moment。
  'Reverend　Father；　you　see　an　Unfortunate；　threatened　with　the
  loss　of　her　dearest；　of　almost　her　only　Friend！　　My　Mother；　my
  excellent　Mother　lies　upon　the　bed　of　sickness。　　A　sudden　and
  dreadful　malady　seized　her　last　night；　and　so　rapid　has　been　its
  progress；　that　the　Physicians　despair　of　her　life。　　Human　aid
  fails　me；　Nothing　remains　for　me　but　to　implore　the　mercy　of
  Heaven。　　Father；　all　Madrid　rings　with　the　report　of　your　piety
  and　virtue。　　Deign　to　remember　my　Mother　in　your　prayers：
  Perhaps　they　may　prevail　on　the　Almighty　to　spare　her；　and　should
  that　be　the　case；　I　engage　myself　every　Thursday　in　the　next
  three　Months　to　illuminate　the　Shrine　of　St。　Francis　in　his
  honour。'
  'So！'　thought　the　Monk；　'Here　we　have　a　second　Vincentio　della
  Ronda。　　Rosario's　adventure　began　thus；'　and　He　wished　secretly
  that　this　might　have　the　same　conclusion。
  He　acceded　to　the　request。　　The　Petitioner　returned　him　thanks
  with　every　mark　of　gratitude；　and　then　continued。
  'I　have　yet　another　favour　to　ask。　　We　are　Strangers　in　Madrid；
  My　Mother　needs　a　Confessor；　and　knows　not　to　whom　She　should
  apply。　　We　understand　that　you　never　quit　the　Abbey；　and　Alas！　my
  poor　Mother　is　unable　to　come　hither！　　If　you　would　have　the
  goodness；　reverend　Father；　to　name　a　proper　person；　whose　wise
  a