1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
825
826
827
828
829
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883
884
885
886
887
888
889
890
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915
916
917
918
919
920
921
922
923
924
925
926
927
928
929
930
931
932
933
934
935
936
937
938
939
940
941
942
943
944
945
946
947
948
949
950
951
952
953
954
955
956
957
958
959
960
961
962
963
964
965
966
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974
975
976
977
978
979
980
981
982
983
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991
992
993
994
995
996
997
998
999
1000
1001
1002
1003
1004
1005
1006
1007
1008
1009
1010
1011
1012
1013
1014
1015
1016
1017
1018
1019
1020
1021
1022
1023
1024
1025
1026
1027
1028
1029
1030
1031
1032
1033
1034
1035
1036
1037
1038
1039
1040
1041
1042
1043
1044
1045
1046
1047
1048
1049
1050
1051
1052
1053
1054
1055
1056
1057
1058
1059
1060
1061
1062
1063
1064
1065
1066
1067
1068
1069
1070
1071
1072
1073
1074
1075
1076
1077
1078
1079
1080
1081
1082
1083
1084
1085
1086
1087
1088
1089
1090
1091
1092
1093
1094
1095
1096
1097
1098
1099
1100
1101
1102
1103
1104
1105
1106
1107
1108
1109
1110
1111
1112
1113
1114
1115
1116
1117
1118
1119
1120
1121
1122
1123
1124
1125
1126
1127
1128
1129
1130
1131
1132
1133
1134
1135
1136
1137
1138
1139
1140
1141
1142
1143
1144
1145
1146
1147
1148
1149
1150
1151
1152
1153
1154
1155
1156
1157
1158
1159
1160
1161
1162
1163
1164
1165
1166
1167
1168
1169
1170
1171
1172
1173
1174
1175
1176
1177
1178
1179
1180
1181
1182
1183
1184
1185
1186
1187
1188
1189
1190
1191
1192
1193
1194
1195
1196
1197
1198
1199
1200
1201
1202
1203
1204
1205
1206
1207
1208
1209
1210
1211
1212
1213
1214
1215
1216
1217
1218
1219
1220
1221
1222
1223
1224
1225
1226
1227
1228
1229
1230
1231
1232
1233
1234
1235
1236
1237
1238
1239
1240
1241
1242
1243
1244
1245
1246
1247
1248
1249
1250
1251
1252
1253
1254
1255
1256
1257
1258
1259
1260
1261
1262
1263
1264
1265
1266
1267
1268
1269
1270
1271
1272
1273
1274
1275
1276
1277
1278
1279
1280
1281
1282
1283
1284
1285
1286
1287
1288
1289
1290
1291
1292
1293
1294
1295
1296
1297
1298
1299
1300
1301
1302
1303
1304
1305
1306
1307
1308
1309
1310
1311
1312
1313
1314
1315
1316
1317
1318
1319
1320
1321
1322
1323
1324
1325
1326
1327
1328
1329
1330
1331
1332
1333
1334
1335
1336
1337
1338
1339
1340
1341
1342
1343
1344
1345
1346
1347
1348
1349
1350
1351
1352
1353
1354
1355
1356
1357
1358
1359
1360
1361
1362
1363
1364
1365
1366
1367
1368
1369
1370
1371
1372
1373
1374
1375
1376
1377
1378
1379
1380
1381
1382
1383
1384
1385
1386
1387
1388
1389
1390
1391
1392
1393
1394
1395
1396
1397
1398
1399
1400
1401
1402
1403
1404
1405
1406
1407
1408
1409
1410
1411
1412
1413
1414
1415
1416
1417
1418
1419
1420
1421
1422
1423
1424
1425
1426
1427
1428
1429
1430
1431
1432
1433
1434
1435
1436
1437
1438
1439
1440
1441
1442
1443
1444
1445
1446
1447
1448
1449
1450
1451
1452
1453
1454
1455
1456
1457
1458
1459
1460
1461
1462
1463
1464
1465
1466
1467
1468
1469
1470
1471
1472
1473
1474
1475
1476
1477
1478
1479
1480
1481
1482
1483
1484
1485
1486
1487
1488
1489
1490
1491
1492
1493
1494
1495
1496
1497
1498
1499
1500
1501
1502
1503
1504
1505
1506
1507
1508
1509
1510
1511
1512
1513
1514
1515
1516
1517
1518
1519
1520
1521
1522
1523
1524
1525
1526
1527
1528
1529
1530
1531
1532
1533
1534
1535
1536
1537
1538
1539
1540
1541
1542
1543
1544
1545
1546
1547
1548
1549
1550
1551
1552
1553
1554
1555
1556
1557
1558
1559
1560
1561
1562
1563
1564
1565
1566
1567
1568
1569
1570
1571
1572
1573
1574
1575
1576
1577
1578
1579
1580
1581
1582
1583
1584
1585
1586
1587
1588
1589
1590
1591
1592
1593
1594
1595
1596
1597
1598
1599
1600
1601
1602
1603
1604
1605
1606
1607
1608
1609
1610
1611
1612
1613
1614
1615
1616
1617
1618
1619
1620
1621
1622
1623
1624
1625
1626
1627
1628
1629
1630
1631
1632
1633
1634
1635
1636
1637
1638
1639
1640
1641
1642
1643
1644
1645
1646
1647
1648
1649
1650
1651
1652
1653
1654
1655
1656
1657
1658
1659
1660
1661
1662
1663
1664
1665
1666
1667
1668
1669
1670
1671
1672
1673
1674
1675
1676
1677
1678
1679
1680
1681
1682
1683
1684
1685
1686
1687
1688
1689
1690
1691
1692
1693
1694
1695
1696
1697
1698
1699
1700
1701
1702
1703
1704
1705
1706
1707
1708
1709
1710
1711
1712
1713
1714
1715
1716
1717
1718
1719
1720
1721
1722
1723
1724
1725
1726
1727
1728
1729
1730
1731
1732
1733
1734
1735
1736
1737
1738
1739
1740
1741
1742
1743
1744
1745
1746
1747
1748
1749
1750
1751
1752
1753
1754
1755
1756
1757
1758
1759
1760
1761
1762
1763
1764
1765
1766
1767
1768
1769
1770
1771
1772
1773
1774
1775
1776
1777
1778
1779
1780
1781
1782
1783
1784
1785
1786
1787
1788
1789
1790
1791
1792
1793
1794
1795
1796
1797
1798
1799
1800
1801
1802
1803
1804
1805
1806
1807
1808
1809
1810
1811
1812
1813
1814
1815
1816
1817
1818
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
1831
1832
1833
1834
1835
1836
1837
1838
1839
1840
1841
1842
1843
1844
1845
1846
1847
1848
1849
1850
1851
1852
1853
1854
1855
1856
1857
1858
1859
1860
1861
1862
1863
1864
1865
1866
1867
1868
1869
1870
1871
1872
1873
1874
1875
1876
1877
1878
1879
1880
1881
1882
1883
1884
1885
1886
1887
1888
1889
1890
1891
1892
1893
1894
1895
1896
1897
1898
1899
1900
1901
1902
1903
1904
1905
1906
1907
1908
1909
1910
1911
1912
1913
1914
1915
1916
1917
1918
1919
1920
1921
1922
1923
1924
1925
1926
1927
1928
1929
1930
1931
1932
1933
1934
1935
1936
1937
1938
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
1947
1948
1949
1950
1951
1952
1953
1954
1955
1956
1957
1958
1959
1960
1961
1962
1963
1964
1965
1966
1967
1968
1969
1970
1971
1972
1973
1974
1975
1976
1977
1978
1979
1980
1981
1982
1983
1984
1985
1986
1987
1988
1989
1990
1991
1992
1993
1994
1995
1996
1997
1998
1999
2000
2001
2002
2003
2004
2005
2006
2007
2008
2009
2010
2011
2012
2013
2014
2015
2016
2017
2018
2019
2020
2021
2022
2023
2024
2025
2026
2027
2028
2029
2030
2031
2032
2033
2034
2035
2036
2037
2038
2039
2040
2041
2042
2043
2044
2045
2046
2047
2048
2049
2050
2051
2052
2053
2054
2055
2056
2057
2058
2059
2060
2061
2062
2063
2064
2065
2066
2067
2068
2069
2070
2071
2072
2073
2074
2075
2076
2077
2078
2079
2080
2081
2082
2083
2084
2085
2086
2087
2088
2089
2090
2091
2092
2093
2094
2095
2096
2097
2098
2099
2100
2101
2102
2103
2104
2105
2106
2107
2108
2109
2110
2111
2112
2113
2114
2115
2116
2117
2118
2119
2120
2121
2122
2123
2124
2125
2126
2127
2128
2129
2130
2131
2132
2133
2134
2135
2136
2137
2138
2139
2140
2141
2142
2143
2144
2145
2146
2147
2148
2149
2150
2151
2152
2153
2154
2155
2156
2157
2158
2159
2160
2161
2162
2163
2164
2165
2166
2167
2168
2169
2170
2171
2172
2173
2174
2175
2176
2177
2178
2179
2180
2181
2182
2183
2184
2185
2186
2187
2188
2189
2190
2191
2192
2193
2194
2195
2196
2197
2198
2199
2200
2201
2202
2203
2204
2205
2206
2207
2208
2209
2210
2211
2212
2213
2214
2215
2216
2217
2218
2219
2220
2221
2222
2223
2224
2225
2226
2227
2228
2229
2230
2231
2232
2233
2234
2235
2236
2237
2238
2239
2240
2241
2242
2243
2244
2245
2246
2247
2248
2249
2250
2251
2252
2253
2254
2255
2256
2257
2258
2259
2260
2261
2262
2263
2264
2265
2266
2267
2268
2269
2270
2271
2272
2273
2274
2275
2276
2277
2278
2279
2280
2281
2282
2283
2284
2285
2286
2287
2288
2289
2290
2291
2292
2293
2294
2295
2296
2297
2298
2299
2300
2301
2302
2303
2304
2305
2306
2307
2308
2309
2310
2311
2312
2313
2314
2315
2316
2317
2318
2319
2320
2321
2322
2323
2324
2325
2326
2327
2328
2329
2330
2331
2332
2333
2334
2335
2336
2337
2338
2339
2340
2341
2342
2343
2344
2345
2346
2347
2348
2349
2350
2351
2352
2353
2354
2355
2356
2357
2358
2359
2360
2361
2362
2363
2364
2365
2366
2367
2368
2369
2370
2371
2372
2373
2374
2375
2376
2377
2378
2379
2380
2381
2382
2383
2384
2385
2386
2387
2388
2389
2390
2391
2392
2393
2394
2395
2396
2397
2398
2399
2400
2401
2402
2403
2404
2405
2406
2407
2408
2409
2410
2411
2412
2413
2414
2415
2416
2417
2418
2419
2420
2421
2422
2423
2424
2425
2426
2427
2428
2429
2430
2431
2432
2433
2434
2435
2436
2437
2438
2439
2440
2441
2442
2443
2444
2445
2446
2447
2448
2449
2450
2451
2452
2453
2454
2455
2456
2457
2458
2459
2460
2461
2462
2463
2464
2465
2466
2467
2468
2469
2470
2471
2472
2473
2474
2475
2476
2477
2478
2479
2480
2481
2482
2483
2484
2485
2486
2487
2488
2489
2490
2491
2492
2493
2494
2495
2496
2497
2498
2499
2500
2501
2502
2503
2504
2505
2506
2507
2508
2509
2510
2511
2512
2513
2514
2515
2516
2517
2518
2519
2520
2521
2522
2523
2524
2525
2526
2527
2528
2529
2530
2531
2532
2533
2534
2535
2536
2537
2538
2539
2540
2541
2542
2543
2544
2545
2546
2547
2548
2549
2550
2551
2552
2553
2554
2555
2556
2557
2558
2559
2560
2561
2562
2563
2564
2565
2566
2567
2568
2569
2570
2571
2572
2573
2574
2575
2576
2577
2578
2579
2580
2581
2582
2583
2584
2585
2586
2587
2588
2589
2590
2591
2592
2593
2594
2595
2596
2597
2598
2599
2600
2601
2602
2603
2604
2605
2606
2607
2608
2609
2610
2611
2612
2613
2614
2615
2616
2617
2618
2619
2620
2621
2622
2623
2624
2625
2626
2627
2628
2629
2630
2631
2632
2633
2634
2635
2636
2637
2638
2639
2640
2641
2642
2643
2644
2645
2646
2647
2648
2649
2650
2651
2652
2653
2654
2655
2656
2657
2658
2659
2660
2661
2662
2663
2664
2665
2666
2667
2668
2669
2670
2671
2672
2673
2674
2675
2676
2677
2678
2679
2680
2681
2682
2683
2684
2685
2686
2687
2688
2689
2690
2691
2692
2693
2694
2695
2696
2697
2698
2699
2700
2701
2702
2703
2704
2705
2706
2707
2708
2709
2710
2711
2712
2713
2714
2715
2716
2717
2718
2719
2720
2721
2722
2723
2724
2725
2726
2727
2728
2729
2730
2731
2732
2733
2734
2735
2736
2737
2738
2739
2740
2741
2742
2743
2744
2745
2746
2747
2748
2749
2750
2751
2752
2753
2754
2755
2756
2757
2758
2759
2760
2761
2762
2763
2764
2765
2766
2767
2768
2769
2770
2771
2772
2773
2774
2775
2776
2777
2778
2779
2780
2781
2782
2783
2784
2785
2786
2787
2788
2789
2790
2791
2792
2793
2794
2795
2796
2797
2798
2799
2800
2801
2802
2803
2804
2805
2806
2807
2808
2809
2810
2811
2812
2813
2814
2815
2816
2817
2818
2819
2820
2821
2822
2823
2824
2825
2826
2827
2828
2829
2830
2831
2832
2833
2834
2835
2836
2837
2838
2839
2840
2841
2842
2843
2844
2845
2846
2847
2848
2849
2850
2851
2852
2853
2854
2855
2856
2857
2858
2859
2860
2861
2862
2863
2864
2865
2866
2867
2868
2869
2870
2871
2872
2873
2874
2875
2876
2877
2878
2879
2880
2881
2882
2883
2884
2885
2886
2887
2888
2889
2890
2891
2892
2893
2894
2895
2896
2897
2898
2899
2900
2901
2902
2903
2904
2905
2906
2907
2908
2909
2910
2911
2912
2913
2914
2915
2916
2917
2918
2919
2920
2921
2922
2923
2924
2925
2926
2927
2928
2929
2930
2931
2932
2933
2934
2935
2936
2937
2938
2939
2940
2941
2942
2943
2944
2945
2946
2947
2948
2949
2950
2951
2952
2953
2954
2955
2956
2957
2958
2959
2960
2961
2962
2963
2964
2965
2966
2967
2968
2969
2970
2971
2972
2973
2974
2975
2976
2977
2978
2979
2980
2981
2982
2983
2984
2985
2986
2987
2988
2989
2990
2991
2992
2993
2994
2995
2996
2997
2998
2999
3000
3001
3002
3003
3004
3005
3006
3007
3008
3009
3010
3011
3012
3013
3014
3015
3016
3017
3018
3019
3020
3021
3022
3023
3024
3025
3026
3027
3028
3029
3030
3031
3032
3033
3034
3035
3036
3037
3038
3039
3040
3041
3042
3043
3044
3045
3046
3047
3048
3049
3050
3051
3052
3053
3054
3055
3056
3057
3058
3059
3060
3061
3062
3063
3064
3065
3066
3067
3068
3069
3070
3071
3072
3073
3074
3075
3076
3077
3078
3079
3080
3081
3082
3083
3084
3085
3086
3087
3088
3089
3090
3091
3092
3093
3094
3095
3096
3097
3098
3099
3100
3101
3102
3103
3104
3105
3106
3107
3108
3109
3110
3111
3112
3113
3114
3115
3116
3117
3118
3119
3120
3121
3122
3123
3124
3125
3126
3127
3128
3129
3130
3131
3132
3133
3134
3135
3136
3137
3138
3139
3140
3141
3142
3143
3144
3145
3146
3147
3148
3149
3150
3151
3152
3153
3154
3155
3156
3157
3158
3159
3160
3161
3162
3163
3164
3165
3166
3167
3168
3169
3170
3171
3172
3173
3174
3175
3176
3177
3178
3179
3180
3181
3182
3183
3184
3185
3186
3187
3188
3189
3190
3191
3192
3193
3194
3195
3196
3197
3198
3199
3200
3201
3202
3203
3204
3205
3206
3207
3208
3209
3210
3211
3212
3213
3214
3215
3216
3217
3218
3219
3220
3221
3222
3223
3224
3225
3226
3227
3228
3229
3230
3231
3232
3233
3234
3235
3236
3237
3238
3239
3240
3241
3242
3243
3244
3245
3246
3247
3248
3249
3250
3251
3252
3253
3254
3255
3256
3257
3258
3259
3260
3261
3262
3263
3264
3265
3266
3267
3268
3269
3270
3271
3272
3273
3274
3275
3276
3277
3278
3279
3280
3281
3282
3283
3284
3285
3286
3287
3288
3289
3290
3291
3292
3293
3294
3295
3296
3297
3298
3299
3300
3301
3302
3303
3304
3305
3306
3307
3308
3309
3310
3311
3312
3313
3314
3315
3316
3317
3318
3319
3320
3321
3322
3323
3324
3325
3326
3327
3328
3329
3330
3331
3332
3333
3334
3335
3336
3337
3338
3339
3340
3341
3342
3343
3344
3345
3346
3347
3348
3349
3350
3351
3352
3353
3354
3355
3356
3357
3358
3359
3360
3361
3362
3363
3364
3365
3366
3367
3368
3369
3370
3371
3372
3373
3374
3375
3376
3377
3378
3379
3380
3381
3382
3383
3384
3385
3386
3387
3388
3389
3390
3391
3392
3393
3394
3395
3396
3397
3398
3399
3400
3401
3402
3403
3404
3405
3406
3407
3408
3409
3410
3411
3412
3413
3414
3415
3416
3417
3418
3419
3420
3421
3422
3423
3424
3425
3426
3427
3428
3429
3430
3431
3432
3433
3434
3435
3436
3437
3438
3439
3440
3441
3442
3443
3444
3445
3446
3447
3448
3449
3450
3451
3452
3453
3454
3455
3456
3457
3458
3459
3460
3461
3462
3463
3464
3465
3466
3467
3468
3469
3470
3471
3472
3473
3474
3475
3476
3477
3478
3479
3480
3481
3482
3483
3484
3485
3486
3487
3488
3489
3490
3491
3492
3493
3494
3495
3496
3497
3498
3499
3500
3501
3502
3503
3504
3505
3506
3507
3508
3509
3510
3511
3512
3513
3514
3515
3516
3517
3518
3519
3520
3521
3522
3523
3524
3525
3526
3527
3528
3529
3530
3531
3532
3533
3534
3535
3536
3537
3538
3539
3540
3541
3542
3543
3544
3545
3546
3547
3548
3549
3550
3551
3552
3553
3554
3555
3556
3557
3558
3559
3560
3561
3562
3563
3564
3565
3566
3567
3568
3569
3570
3571
3572
3573
3574
3575
3576
3577
3578
3579
3580
3581
3582
3583
3584
3585
3586
3587
3588
3589
3590
3591
3592
3593
3594
3595
3596
3597
3598
3599
3600
3601
3602
3603
3604
3605
3606
3607
3608
3609
3610
3611
3612
3613
3614
3615
3616
3617
3618
3619
3620
3621
3622
3623
3624
3625
3626
3627
3628
3629
3630
3631
3632
3633
3634
3635
3636
3637
3638
3639
3640
3641
3642
3643
3644
3645
3646
3647
3648
3649
3650
3651
3652
3653
3654
3655
3656
3657
3658
3659
3660
3661
3662
3663
3664
3665
3666
3667
3668
3669
3670
3671
3672
3673
3674
3675
3676
3677
3678
3679
3680
3681
3682
3683
3684
3685
3686
3687
3688
3689
3690
3691
3692
3693
3694
3695
3696
3697
3698
3699
3700
3701
3702
3703
3704
3705
3706
3707
3708
3709
3710
3711
3712
3713
3714
3715
3716
3717
3718
3719
3720
3721
3722
3723
3724
3725
3726
3727
3728
3729
3730
3731
3732
3733
3734
3735
3736
3737
3738
3739
3740
3741
3742
3743
3744
3745
3746
3747
3748
3749
3750
3751
3752
3753
3754
3755
3756
3757
3758
3759
3760
3761
3762
3763
3764
3765
3766
3767
3768
3769
3770
3771
3772
3773
3774
3775
3776
3777
3778
3779
3780
3781
3782
3783
3784
3785
3786
3787
3788
3789
3790
3791
3792
3793
3794
3795
3796
3797
3798
3799
3800
3801
3802
3803
3804
3805
3806
3807
3808
3809
3810
3811
3812
3813
3814
3815
3816
3817
3818
3819
3820
3821
3822
3823
3824
3825
3826
3827
3828
3829
3830
3831
3832
3833
3834
3835
3836
3837
3838
3839
3840
3841
3842
3843
3844
3845
3846
3847
3848
3849
3850
3851
3852
3853
3854
3855
3856
3857
3858
3859
3860
3861
3862
3863
3864
3865
3866
3867
3868
3869
3870
3871
3872
3873
3874
3875
3876
3877
3878
3879
3880
3881
3882
3883
3884
3885
3886
3887
3888
3889
3890
3891
3892
3893
3894
3895
3896
3897
3898
3899
3900
3901
3902
3903
3904
3905
3906
3907
3908
3909
3910
3911
3912
3913
3914
3915
3916
3917
3918
3919
3920
3921
3922
3923
3924
3925
3926
3927
3928
3929
3930
3931
3932
3933
3934
3935
3936
3937
3938
3939
3940
3941
3942
3943
3944
3945
3946
3947
3948
3949
3950
3951
3952
3953
3954
3955
3956
3957
3958
3959
3960
3961
3962
3963
3964
3965
3966
3967
3968
3969
3970
3971
3972
3973
3974
3975
3976
3977
3978
3979
3980
3981
3982
3983
3984
3985
3986
3987
3988
3989
3990
3991
3992
3993
3994
3995
3996
3997
3998
3999
4000
4001
4002
4003
4004
4005
4006
4007
4008
4009
4010
4011
4012
4013
4014
4015
4016
4017
4018
4019
4020
4021
4022
4023
4024
4025
4026
4027
4028
4029
4030
4031
4032
4033
4034
4035
4036
4037
4038
4039
4040
4041
4042
4043
4044
4045
4046
4047
4048
4049
4050
4051
4052
4053
4054
4055
4056
4057
4058
4059
4060
4061
4062
4063
4064
4065
4066
4067
4068
4069
4070
4071
4072
4073
4074
4075
4076
4077
4078
4079
4080
4081
4082
4083
4084
4085
4086
4087
4088
4089
4090
4091
4092
4093
4094
4095
4096
4097
4098
4099
4100
4101
4102
4103
4104
4105
4106
4107
4108
4109
4110
4111
4112
4113
4114
4115
4116
4117
4118
4119
4120
4121
4122
4123
4124
4125
4126
4127
4128
4129
4130
4131
4132
4133
4134
4135
4136
4137
4138
4139
4140
4141
4142
4143
4144
4145
4146
4147
4148
4149
4150
4151
4152
4153
4154
4155
4156
4157
4158
4159
4160
4161
4162
4163
4164
4165
4166
4167
4168
4169
4170
4171
4172
4173
4174
4175
4176
4177
4178
4179
4180
4181
4182
4183
4184
4185
4186
4187
4188
4189
4190
4191
4192
4193
4194
4195
4196
4197
4198
4199
4200
4201
4202
4203
4204
4205
4206
4207
4208
4209
4210
4211
4212
4213
4214
4215
4216
4217
4218
4219
4220
4221
4222
4223
4224
4225
4226
4227
4228
4229
4230
4231
4232
4233
4234
4235
4236
4237
4238
4239
4240
4241
4242
4243
4244
4245
4246
4247
4248
4249
4250
4251
4252
4253
4254
4255
4256
4257
4258
4259
4260
4261
4262
4263
4264
4265
4266
4267
4268
4269
4270
4271
4272
4273
4274
4275
4276
4277
4278
4279
4280
4281
4282
4283
4284
4285
4286
4287
4288
4289
4290
4291
4292
4293
4294
4295
4296
4297
4298
4299
4300
4301
4302
4303
4304
4305
4306
4307
4308
4309
4310
4311
4312
4313
4314
4315
4316
4317
4318
4319
4320
4321
4322
4323
4324
4325
4326
4327
4328
4329
4330
4331
4332
4333
4334
4335
4336
4337
4338
4339
4340
4341
4342
4343
4344
4345
4346
4347
4348
4349
4350
4351
4352
4353
4354
4355
4356
4357
4358
4359
4360
4361
4362
4363
4364
4365
4366
4367
4368
4369
4370
4371
4372
4373
4374
4375
4376
4377
4378
4379
4380
4381
4382
4383
4384
4385
4386
4387
4388
4389
4390
4391
4392
4393
4394
4395
4396
4397
4398
4399
4400
4401
4402
4403
4404
4405
4406
4407
4408
4409
4410
4411
4412
4413
4414
4415
4416
4417
4418
4419
4420
4421
4422
4423
4424
4425
4426
4427
4428
4429
4430
4431
4432
4433
4434
4435
4436
4437
4438
4439
4440
4441
4442
4443
4444
4445
4446
4447
4448
4449
4450
4451
4452
4453
4454
4455
4456
4457
4458
4459
4460
4461
4462
4463
4464
4465
4466
4467
4468
4469
4470
4471
4472
4473
4474
4475
4476
4477
4478
4479
4480
4481
4482
4483
4484
4485
4486
4487
4488
4489
4490
4491
4492
4493
4494
4495
4496
4497
4498
4499
4500
4501
4502
4503
4504
4505
4506
4507
4508
4509
4510
4511
4512
4513
4514
4515
4516
4517
4518
4519
4520
4521
4522
4523
4524
4525
4526
4527
4528
4529
4530
4531
4532
4533
4534
4535
4536
4537
4538
4539
4540
4541
4542
4543
4544
4545
4546
4547
4548
4549
4550
4551
4552
4553
4554
4555
4556
4557
4558
4559
4560
4561
4562
4563
4564
4565
4566
4567
4568
4569
4570
4571
4572
4573
4574
4575
4576
4577
4578
4579
4580
4581
4582
4583
4584
4585
4586
4587
4588
4589
4590
4591
4592
4593
4594
4595
4596
4597
4598
4599
4600
4601
4602
4603
4604
4605
4606
4607
4608
4609
4610
4611
4612
4613
4614
4615
4616
4617
4618
4619
4620
4621
4622
4623
4624
4625
4626
4627
4628
4629
4630
4631
4632
4633
4634
4635
4636
4637
4638
4639
4640
4641
4642
4643
4644
4645
4646
4647
4648
4649
4650
4651
4652
4653
4654
4655
4656
4657
4658
4659
4660
4661
4662
4663
4664
4665
4666
4667
4668
4669
4670
4671
4672
4673
4674
4675
4676
4677
4678
4679
4680
4681
4682
4683
4684
4685
4686
4687
4688
4689
4690
4691
4692
4693
4694
4695
4696
4697
4698
4699
4700
4701
4702
4703
4704
4705
4706
4707
4708
4709
4710
4711
4712
4713
4714
4715
4716
4717
4718
4719
4720
4721
4722
4723
4724
4725
4726
4727
4728
4729
4730
4731
4732
4733
4734
4735
4736
4737
4738
4739
4740
4741
4742
4743
4744
4745
4746
4747
4748
4749
4750
4751
4752
4753
4754
4755
4756
4757
4758
4759
4760
4761
4762
4763
4764
4765
4766
4767
4768
4769
4770
4771
4772
4773
4774
4775
4776
4777
4778
4779
4780
4781
4782
4783
4784
4785
4786
4787
4788
4789
4790
4791
4792
4793
4794
4795
4796
4797
4798
4799
4800
4801
4802
4803
4804
4805
4806
4807
4808
4809
4810
4811
4812
4813
4814
4815
4816
4817
4818
4819
4820
4821
4822
4823
4824
4825
4826
4827
4828
4829
4830
4831
4832
4833
4834
4835
4836
4837
4838
4839
4840
4841
4842
4843
4844
4845
4846
4847
4848
4849
4850
4851
4852
4853
4854
4855
4856
4857
4858
4859
4860
4861
4862
4863
4864
4865
4866
4867
4868
4869
4870
4871
4872
4873
4874
4875
4876
4877
4878
4879
4880
4881
4882
4883
4884
4885
4886
4887
4888
4889
4890
4891
4892
4893
4894
4895
4896
4897
4898
4899
4900
4901
4902
4903
4904
4905
4906
4907
4908
4909
4910
4911
4912
4913
4914
4915
4916
4917
4918
4919
4920
4921
4922
4923
4924
4925
4926
4927
4928
4929
4930
4931
4932
4933
4934
4935
4936
4937
4938
4939
4940
4941
4942
4943
4944
4945
4946
4947
4948
4949
4950
4951
4952
4953
4954
4955
4956
4957
4958
4959
4960
4961
4962
4963
4964
4965
4966
4967
4968
4969
4970
4971
4972
4973
4974
4975
4976
4977
4978
4979
4980
4981
4982
4983
4984
4985
4986
4987
4988
4989
4990
4991
4992
4993
4994
4995
4996
4997
4998
4999
5000
5001
5002
5003
5004
5005
5006
5007
5008
5009
5010
5011
5012
5013
5014
5015
5016
5017
5018
5019
5020
5021
5022
5023
5024
5025
5026
5027
5028
5029
5030
5031
5032
5033
5034
5035
5036
5037
5038
5039
5040
5041
5042
5043
5044
5045
5046
5047
5048
5049
5050
5051
5052
5053
5054
5055
5056
5057
5058
5059
5060
5061
5062
5063
5064
5065
5066
5067
5068
5069
5070
5071
5072
5073
5074
5075
5076
5077
5078
5079
5080
5081
5082
5083
5084
5085
5086
5087
5088
5089
5090
5091
5092
5093
5094
5095
5096
5097
5098
5099
5100
5101
5102
5103
5104
5105
5106
5107
5108
5109
5110
5111
5112
5113
5114
5115
5116
5117
5118
5119
5120
5121
5122
5123
5124
5125
5126
5127
5128
5129
5130
5131
5132
5133
5134
5135
5136
5137
5138
5139
5140
5141
5142
5143
5144
5145
5146
5147
5148
5149
5150
5151
5152
5153
5154
5155
5156
5157
5158
5159
5160
5161
5162
5163
5164
5165
5166
5167
5168
5169
5170
5171
5172
5173
5174
5175
5176
5177
5178
5179
5180
5181
5182
5183
5184
5185
5186
5187
5188
5189
5190
5191
5192
5193
5194
5195
5196
5197
5198
5199
5200
5201
5202
5203
5204
5205
5206
5207
5208
5209
5210
5211
5212
5213
5214
5215
5216
5217
5218
5219
5220
5221
5222
5223
5224
5225
5226
5227
5228
5229
5230
5231
5232
5233
5234
5235
5236
5237
5238
5239
5240
5241
5242
5243
5244
5245
5246
5247
5248
5249
5250
5251
5252
5253
5254
5255
5256
5257
5258
5259
5260
5261
5262
5263
5264
5265
5266
5267
5268
5269
5270
5271
5272
5273
5274
5275
5276
5277
5278
5279
5280
5281
5282
5283
5284
5285
5286
5287
5288
5289
5290
5291
5292
5293
5294
5295
5296
5297
5298
5299
5300
5301
5302
5303
5304
5305
5306
5307
5308
5309
5310
5311
5312
5313
5314
5315
5316
5317
5318
5319
5320
5321
5322
5323
5324
5325
5326
5327
5328
5329
5330
5331
5332
5333
5334
5335
5336
5337
5338
5339
5340
5341
5342
5343
5344
5345
5346
5347
5348
5349
5350
5351
5352
5353
5354
5355
5356
5357
5358
5359
5360
5361
5362
5363
5364
5365
5366
5367
5368
5369
5370
5371
5372
5373
5374
5375
5376
5377
5378
5379
5380
5381
5382
5383
5384
5385
5386
5387
5388
5389
5390
5391
5392
5393
5394
5395
5396
5397
5398
5399
5400
5401
5402
5403
5404
5405
5406
5407
5408
5409
5410
5411
5412
5413
5414
5415
5416
5417
5418
5419
5420
5421
5422
5423
5424
5425
5426
5427
5428
5429
5430
5431
5432
5433
5434
5435
5436
5437
5438
5439
5440
5441
5442
5443
5444
5445
5446
5447
5448
5449
5450
5451
5452
5453
5454
5455
5456
5457
5458
5459
5460
5461
5462
5463
5464
5465
5466
5467
5468
5469
5470
5471
5472
5473
5474
5475
5476
5477
5478
5479
5480
5481
5482
5483
5484
5485
5486
5487
5488
5489
5490
5491
5492
5493
5494
5495
5496
5497
5498
5499
5500
5501
5502
5503
5504
5505
5506
5507
5508
5509
5510
5511
5512
5513
5514
5515
5516
5517
5518
5519
5520
5521
5522
5523
5524
5525
5526
5527
5528
5529
5530
5531
5532
5533
5534
5535
5536
5537
5538
5539
5540
5541
5542
5543
5544
5545
5546
5547
5548
5549
5550
5551
5552
5553
5554
5555
5556
5557
5558
5559
5560
5561
5562
5563
5564
5565
5566
5567
5568
5569
5570
5571
5572
5573
5574
5575
5576
5577
5578
5579
5580
5581
5582
5583
5584
5585
5586
5587
5588
5589
5590
5591
5592
5593
5594
5595
5596
5597
5598
5599
5600
5601
5602
5603
5604
5605
5606
5607
5608
5609
5610
5611
5612
5613
5614
5615
5616
5617
5618
5619
5620
5621
5622
5623
5624
5625
5626
5627
5628
5629
5630
5631
5632
5633
5634
5635
5636
5637
5638
5639
5640
5641
5642
5643
5644
5645
5646
5647
5648
5649
5650
5651
5652
5653
5654
5655
5656
5657
5658
5659
5660
5661
5662
5663
5664
5665
5666
5667
5668
5669
5670
5671
5672
5673
5674
5675
5676
5677
5678
5679
5680
5681
5682
5683
5684
5685
5686
5687
5688
5689
5690
5691
5692
5693
5694
5695
5696
5697
5698
5699
5700
5701
5702
5703
5704
5705
5706
5707
5708
5709
5710
5711
5712
5713
5714
5715
5716
5717
5718
5719
5720
5721
5722
5723
5724
5725
5726
5727
5728
5729
5730
5731
5732
5733
5734
5735
5736
5737
5738
5739
5740
5741
5742
5743
5744
5745
5746
5747
5748
5749
5750
5751
5752
5753
5754
5755
5756
5757
5758
5759
5760
5761
5762
5763
5764
5765
5766
5767
5768
5769
5770
5771
5772
5773
5774
5775
5776
5777
5778
5779
5780
5781
5782
5783
5784
5785
5786
5787
5788
5789
5790
5791
5792
5793
5794
5795
5796
5797
5798
5799
5800
5801
5802
5803
5804
5805
5806
5807
5808
5809
5810
5811
5812
5813
5814
5815
5816
5817
5818
5819
5820
5821
5822
5823
5824
5825
5826
5827
5828
5829
5830
5831
5832
5833
5834
5835
5836
5837
5838
5839
5840
5841
5842
5843
5844
5845
5846
5847
5848
5849
5850
5851
5852
5853
5854
5855
5856
5857
5858
5859
5860
5861
5862
5863
5864
5865
5866
5867
5868
5869
5870
5871
5872
5873
5874
5875
5876
5877
5878
5879
5880
5881
5882
5883
5884
5885
5886
5887
5888
5889
5890
5891
5892
5893
5894
5895
5896
5897
5898
5899
5900
5901
5902
5903
5904
5905
5906
5907
5908
5909
5910
5911
5912
5913
5914
5915
5916
5917
5918
5919
5920
5921
5922
5923
5924
5925
5926
5927
5928
5929
5930
5931
5932
5933
5934
5935
5936
5937
5938
5939
5940
5941
5942
5943
5944
5945
5946
5947
5948
5949
5950
5951
5952
5953
5954
5955
5956
5957
5958
5959
5960
5961
5962
5963
5964
5965
5966
5967
5968
5969
5970
5971
5972
5973
5974
5975
5976
5977
5978
5979
5980
5981
5982
5983
5984
5985
5986
5987
5988
5989
5990
5991
5992
5993
5994
5995
5996
5997
5998
5999
6000
6001
6002
6003
6004
6005
6006
6007
6008
6009
6010
6011
6012
6013
6014
6015
6016
6017
6018
6019
6020
6021
6022
6023
6024
6025
6026
6027
6028
6029
6030
6031
6032
6033
6034
6035
6036
6037
6038
6039
6040
6041
6042
6043
6044
6045
6046
6047
6048
6049
6050
6051
6052
6053
6054
6055
6056
6057
6058
6059
6060
6061
6062
6063
6064
6065
6066
6067
6068
6069
6070
6071
6072
6073
6074
6075
6076
6077
6078
6079
6080
6081
6082
6083
6084
6085
6086
6087
6088
6089
6090
6091
6092
6093
6094
6095
6096
6097
6098
6099
6100
6101
6102
6103
6104
6105
6106
6107
6108
6109
6110
6111
6112
6113
6114
6115
6116
6117
6118
6119
6120
6121
6122
6123
6124
6125
6126
6127
6128
6129
6130
6131
6132
6133
6134
6135
6136
6137
6138
6139
6140
6141
6142
6143
6144
6145
6146
6147
6148
6149
6150
6151
6152
6153
6154
6155
6156
6157
6158
6159
6160
6161
6162
6163
6164
6165
6166
6167
6168
6169
6170
6171
6172
6173
6174
6175
6176
6177
6178
6179
6180
6181
6182
6183
6184
6185
6186
6187
6188
6189
6190
6191
6192
6193
6194
6195
6196
6197
6198
6199
6200
6201
6202
6203
6204
6205
6206
6207
6208
6209
6210
6211
6212
6213
6214
6215
6216
6217
6218
6219
6220
6221
6222
6223
6224
6225
6226
6227
6228
6229
6230
6231
6232
6233
6234
6235
6236
6237
6238
6239
6240
6241
6242
6243
6244
6245
6246
6247
6248
6249
6250
6251
6252
6253
6254
6255
6256
6257
6258
6259
6260
6261
6262
6263
6264
6265
6266
6267
6268
6269
6270
6271
6272
6273
6274
6275
6276
6277
6278
6279
6280
6281
6282
6283
6284
6285
6286
6287
6288
6289
6290
6291
6292
6293
6294
6295
6296
6297
6298
6299
6300
6301
6302
6303
6304
6305
6306
6307
6308
6309
6310
6311
6312
6313
6314
6315
6316
6317
6318
6319
6320
6321
6322
6323
6324
6325
6326
6327
6328
6329
6330
6331
6332
6333
6334
6335
6336
6337
6338
6339
6340
6341
6342
6343
6344
6345
6346
6347
6348
6349
6350
6351
6352
6353
6354
6355
6356
6357
6358
6359
6360
6361
6362
6363
6364
6365
6366
6367
6368
6369
6370
6371
6372
6373
6374
6375
6376
6377
6378
6379
6380
6381
6382
6383
6384
6385
6386
6387
6388
6389
6390
6391
6392
6393
6394
6395
6396
6397
6398
6399
6400
6401
6402
6403
6404
6405
6406
6407
6408
6409
6410
6411
6412
6413
6414
6415
6416
6417
6418
6419
6420
6421
6422
6423
6424
6425
6426
6427
6428
6429
6430
6431
6432
6433
6434
6435
6436
6437
6438
6439
6440
6441
6442
6443
6444
6445
6446
6447
6448
6449
6450
6451
6452
6453
6454
6455
6456
6457
6458
6459
6460
6461
6462
6463
6464
6465
6466
6467
6468
6469
6470
6471
6472
6473
6474
6475
6476
6477
6478
6479
6480
6481
6482
6483
6484
6485
6486
6487
6488
6489
6490
6491
6492
6493
6494
6495
6496
6497
6498
6499
6500
6501
6502
6503
6504
6505
6506
6507
6508
6509
6510
6511
6512
6513
6514
6515
6516
6517
6518
6519
6520
6521
6522
6523
6524
6525
6526
6527
6528
6529
6530
6531
6532
6533
6534
6535
6536
6537
6538
6539
6540
6541
6542
6543
6544
6545
6546
6547
6548
6549
6550
6551
6552
6553
6554
6555
6556
6557
6558
6559
6560
6561
6562
6563
6564
6565
6566
6567
6568
6569
6570
6571
6572
6573
6574
6575
6576
6577
6578
6579
6580
6581
6582
6583
6584
6585
6586
6587
6588
6589
6590
6591
6592
6593
6594
6595
6596
6597
6598
6599
6600
6601
6602
6603
6604
6605
6606
6607
6608
6609
6610
6611
6612
6613
6614
6615
6616
6617
6618
6619
6620
6621
6622
6623
6624
6625
6626
6627
6628
6629
6630
6631
6632
6633
6634
6635
6636
6637
6638
6639
6640
6641
6642
6643
6644
6645
6646
6647
6648
6649
6650
6651
6652
6653
6654
6655
6656
6657
6658
6659
6660
6661
6662
6663
6664
6665
6666
6667
6668
6669
6670
6671
6672
6673
6674
6675
6676
6677
6678
6679
6680
6681
6682
6683
6684
6685
6686
6687
6688
6689
6690
6691
6692
6693
6694
6695
6696
6697
6698
6699
6700
6701
6702
6703
6704
6705
6706
6707
6708
6709
6710
6711
6712
6713
6714
6715
6716
6717
6718
6719
6720
6721
6722
6723
6724
6725
6726
6727
6728
6729
6730
6731
6732
6733
6734
6735
6736
6737
6738
6739
6740
6741
6742
6743
6744
6745
6746
6747
6748
6749
6750
6751
6752
6753
6754
6755
6756
6757
6758
6759
6760
6761
6762
6763
6764
6765
6766
6767
6768
6769
6770
6771
6772
6773
6774
6775
6776
6777
6778
6779
6780
6781
6782
6783
6784
6785
6786
6787
6788
6789
6790
6791
6792
6793
6794
6795
6796
6797
6798
6799
6800
6801
6802
6803
6804
6805
6806
6807
6808
6809
6810
6811
6812
6813
6814
6815
6816
6817
6818
6819
6820
6821
6822
6823
6824
6825
6826
6827
6828
6829
6830
6831
6832
6833
6834
6835
6836
6837
6838
6839
6840
6841
6842
6843
6844
6845
6846
6847
6848
6849
6850
6851
6852
6853
6854
6855
6856
6857
6858
6859
6860
6861
6862
6863
6864
6865
6866
6867
6868
6869
6870
6871
6872
6873
6874
6875
6876
6877
6878
6879
6880
6881
6882
6883
6884
6885
6886
6887
6888
6889
6890
6891
6892
6893
6894
6895
6896
6897
6898
6899
6900
6901
6902
6903
6904
6905
6906
6907
6908
6909
6910
6911
6912
6913
6914
6915
6916
6917
6918
6919
6920
6921
6922
6923
6924
6925
6926
6927
6928
6929
6930
6931
6932
6933
6934
6935
6936
6937
6938
6939
6940
6941
6942
6943
6944
6945
6946
6947
6948
6949
6950
6951
6952
6953
6954
6955
6956
6957
6958
6959
6960
6961
6962
6963
6964
6965
6966
6967
6968
6969
6970
6971
6972
6973
6974
6975
6976
6977
6978
6979
6980
6981
6982
6983
6984
6985
6986
6987
6988
6989
6990
6991
6992
6993
6994
6995
6996
6997
6998
6999
7000
7001
7002
7003
7004
7005
7006
7007
7008
7009
7010
7011
7012
7013
7014
7015
7016
7017
7018
7019
7020
7021
7022
7023
7024
7025
7026
7027
7028
7029
7030
7031
7032
7033
7034
7035
7036
7037
7038
7039
7040
7041
7042
7043
7044
7045
7046
7047
7048
7049
7050
7051
7052
7053
7054
7055
7056
7057
7058
7059
7060
7061
7062
7063
7064
7065
7066
7067
7068
7069
7070
7071
7072
7073
7074
7075
7076
7077
7078
7079
7080
7081
7082
7083
7084
7085
7086
7087
7088
7089
7090
7091
7092
7093
7094
7095
7096
7097
7098
7099
7100
7101
7102
7103
7104
7105
7106
7107
7108
7109
7110
7111
7112
7113
7114
7115
7116
7117
7118
7119
7120
7121
7122
7123
7124
7125
7126
7127
7128
7129
7130
7131
7132
7133
7134
7135
7136
7137
7138
7139
7140
7141
7142
7143
7144
7145
7146
7147
7148
7149
7150
7151
7152
7153
7154
7155
7156
7157
7158
7159
7160
7161
7162
7163
7164
7165
7166
7167
7168
7169
7170
7171
7172
7173
7174
7175
7176
7177
7178
7179
7180
7181
7182
7183
7184
7185
7186
7187
7188
7189
7190
7191
7192
7193
7194
7195
7196
7197
7198
7199
7200
7201
7202
7203
7204
7205
7206
7207
7208
7209
7210
7211
7212
7213
7214
7215
7216
7217
7218
7219
7220
7221
7222
7223
7224
7225
7226
7227
7228
7229
7230
7231
7232
7233
7234
7235
7236
7237
7238
7239
7240
7241
7242
7243
7244
7245
7246
7247
7248
7249
7250
7251
7252
7253
7254
7255
7256
7257
7258
7259
7260
7261
7262
7263
7264
7265
7266
7267
7268
7269
7270
7271
7272
7273
7274
7275
7276
7277
7278
7279
7280
7281
7282
7283
7284
7285
7286
7287
7288
7289
7290
7291
7292
7293
7294
7295
7296
7297
7298
7299
7300
7301
7302
7303
7304
7305
7306
7307
7308
7309
7310
7311
7312
7313
7314
7315
7316
7317
7318
7319
7320
7321
7322
7323
7324
7325
7326
7327
7328
7329
7330
7331
7332
7333
7334
7335
7336
7337
7338
7339
7340
7341
7342
7343
7344
7345
7346
7347
7348
7349
7350
7351
7352
7353
7354
7355
7356
7357
7358
7359
7360
7361
7362
7363
7364
7365
7366
7367
7368
7369
7370
7371
7372
7373
7374
7375
7376
7377
7378
7379
7380
7381
7382
7383
7384
7385
7386
7387
7388
7389
7390
7391
7392
7393
7394
7395
7396
7397
7398
7399
7400
7401
7402
7403
7404
7405
7406
7407
7408
7409
7410
7411
7412
7413
7414
7415
7416
7417
7418
7419
7420
7421
7422
7423
7424
7425
7426
7427
7428
7429
7430
7431
7432
7433
7434
7435
7436
7437
7438
7439
7440
7441
7442
7443
7444
7445
7446
7447
7448
7449
7450
7451
7452
7453
7454
7455
7456
7457
7458
7459
7460
7461
7462
7463
7464
7465
7466
7467
7468
7469
7470
7471
7472
7473
7474
7475
7476
7477
7478
7479
7480
7481
7482
7483
7484
7485
7486
7487
7488
7489
7490
7491
7492
7493
7494
7495
7496
7497
7498
7499
7500
7501
7502
7503
7504
7505
7506
7507
7508
7509
7510
7511
7512
7513
7514
7515
7516
7517
7518
7519
7520
7521
7522
7523
7524
7525
7526
7527
7528
7529
7530
7531
7532
7533
7534
7535
7536
7537
7538
7539
7540
7541
7542
7543
7544
7545
7546
7547
7548
7549
7550
7551
7552
7553
7554
7555
7556
7557
7558
7559
7560
7561
7562
7563
7564
7565
7566
7567
7568
7569
7570
7571
7572
7573
7574
7575
7576
7577
7578
7579
7580
7581
7582
7583
7584
7585
7586
7587
7588
7589
7590
7591
7592
7593
7594
7595
7596
7597
7598
7599
7600
7601
7602
7603
7604
7605
7606
7607
7608
7609
7610
7611
7612
7613
7614
7615
7616
7617
7618
7619
7620
7621
7622
7623
7624
7625
7626
7627
7628
7629
7630
7631
7632
7633
7634
7635
7636
7637
7638
7639
7640
7641
7642
7643
7644
7645
7646
7647
7648
7649
7650
7651
7652
7653
7654
7655
7656
7657
7658
7659
7660
7661
7662
7663
7664
7665
7666
7667
7668
7669
7670
7671
7672
7673
7674
7675
7676
7677
7678
7679
7680
7681
7682
7683
7684
7685
7686
7687
7688
7689
7690
7691
7692
7693
7694
7695
7696
7697
7698
7699
7700
7701
7702
7703
7704
7705
7706
7707
7708
7709
7710
7711
7712
7713
7714
7715
7716
7717
7718
7719
7720
7721
7722
7723
7724
7725
7726
7727
7728
7729
7730
7731
7732
7733
7734
7735
7736
7737
7738
7739
7740
7741
7742
7743
7744
7745
7746
7747
7748
7749
7750
7751
7752
7753
7754
7755
7756
7757
7758
7759
7760
7761
7762
7763
7764
7765
7766
7767
7768
7769
7770
7771
7772
7773
7774
7775
7776
7777
7778
7779
7780
7781
7782
7783
7784
7785
7786
7787
7788
7789
7790
7791
7792
7793
7794
7795
7796
7797
7798
7799
7800
7801
7802
7803
7804
7805
7806
7807
7808
7809
7810
7811
7812
7813
7814
7815
7816
7817
7818
7819
7820
7821
7822
7823
7824
7825
7826
7827
7828
7829
7830
7831
7832
7833
7834
7835
7836
7837
7838
7839
7840
7841
7842
7843
7844
7845
7846
7847
7848
7849
7850
7851
7852
7853
7854
7855
7856
7857
7858
7859
7860
7861
7862
7863
7864
7865
7866
7867
7868
7869
7870
7871
7872
7873
7874
7875
7876
7877
7878
7879
7880
7881
7882
7883
7884
7885
7886
7887
7888
7889
7890
7891
7892
7893
7894
7895
7896
7897
7898
7899
7900
7901
7902
7903
7904
7905
7906
7907
7908
7909
7910
7911
7912
7913
7914
7915
7916
7917
7918
7919
7920
7921
7922
7923
7924
7925
7926
7927
7928
7929
7930
7931
7932
7933
7934
7935
7936
7937
7938
7939
7940
7941
7942
7943
7944
7945
7946
7947
7948
7949
7950
7951
7952
7953
7954
7955
7956
7957
7958
7959
7960
7961
7962
7963
7964
7965
7966
7967
7968
7969
7970
7971
7972
7973
7974
7975
7976
7977
7978
7979
7980
7981
7982
7983
7984
7985
7986
7987
7988
7989
7990
7991
7992
7993
7994
7995
7996
7997
7998
7999
8000
8001
8002
8003
8004
8005
8006
8007
8008
8009
8010
8011
8012
8013
8014
8015
8016
8017
8018
8019
8020
8021
8022
8023
8024
8025
8026
8027
8028
8029
8030
8031
8032
8033
8034
8035
8036
8037
8038
8039
8040
8041
8042
8043
8044
8045
8046
8047
8048
8049
8050
8051
8052
8053
8054
8055
8056
8057
8058
8059
8060
8061
8062
8063
8064
8065
8066
8067
8068
8069
8070
8071
8072
8073
8074
8075
8076
8077
8078
8079
8080
8081
8082
8083
8084
8085
8086
8087
8088
8089
8090
8091
8092
8093
8094
8095
8096
8097
8098
8099
8100
8101
8102
8103
8104
8105
8106
8107
8108
8109
8110
8111
8112
8113
8114
8115
8116
8117
8118
8119
8120
8121
8122
8123
8124
8125
8126
8127
8128
8129
8130
8131
8132
8133
8134
8135
8136
8137
8138
8139
8140
8141
8142
8143
8144
8145
8146
8147
8148
8149
8150
8151
8152
8153
8154
8155
8156
8157
8158
8159
8160
8161
8162
8163
8164
8165
8166
8167
8168
8169
8170
8171
8172
8173
8174
8175
8176
8177
8178
8179
8180
8181
8182
8183
8184
8185
8186
8187
8188
8189
8190
8191
8192
8193
8194
8195
8196
8197
8198
8199
8200
8201
8202
8203
8204
8205
8206
8207
8208
8209
8210
8211
8212
8213
8214
8215
8216
8217
8218
8219
8220
8221
8222
8223
8224
8225
8226
8227
8228
8229
8230
8231
8232
8233
8234
8235
8236
8237
8238
8239
8240
8241
8242
8243
8244
8245
8246
8247
8248
8249
8250
8251
8252
8253
8254
8255
8256
8257
8258
8259
8260
8261
8262
8263
8264
8265
8266
8267
8268
8269
8270
8271
8272
8273
8274
8275
8276
8277
8278
8279
8280
8281
8282
8283
8284
8285
8286
8287
8288
8289
8290
8291
8292
8293
8294
8295
8296
8297
8298
8299
8300
8301
8302
8303
8304
8305
8306
8307
8308
8309
8310
8311
8312
8313
8314
8315
8316
8317
8318
8319
8320
8321
8322
8323
8324
8325
8326
8327
8328
8329
8330
8331
8332
8333
8334
8335
8336
8337
8338
8339
8340
8341
8342
8343
8344
8345
8346
8347
8348
8349
8350
8351
8352
8353
8354
8355
8356
8357
8358
8359
8360
8361
8362
8363
8364
8365
8366
8367
8368
8369
8370
8371
8372
8373
8374
8375
8376
8377
8378
8379
8380
8381
8382
8383
8384
8385
8386
8387
8388
8389
8390
8391
8392
8393
8394
8395
8396
8397
8398
8399
8400
8401
8402
8403
8404
8405
8406
8407
8408
8409
8410
8411
8412
8413
8414
8415
8416
8417
8418
8419
8420
8421
8422
8423
8424
8425
8426
8427
8428
8429
8430
8431
8432
8433
8434
8435
8436
8437
8438
8439
8440
8441
8442
8443
8444
8445
8446
8447
8448
8449
8450
8451
8452
8453
8454
8455
8456
8457
8458
8459
8460
8461
8462
8463
8464
8465
8466
8467
8468
8469
8470
8471
8472
8473
8474
8475
8476
8477
8478
8479
8480
8481
8482
8483
8484
8485
8486
8487
8488
8489
8490
8491
8492
8493
8494
8495
8496
8497
8498
8499
8500
8501
8502
8503
8504
8505
8506
8507
8508
8509
8510
8511
8512
8513
8514
8515
8516
8517
8518
8519
8520
8521
8522
8523
8524
8525
8526
8527
8528
8529
8530
8531
8532
8533
8534
8535
8536
8537
8538
8539
8540
8541
8542
8543
8544
8545
8546
8547
8548
8549
8550
8551
8552
8553
8554
8555
8556
8557
8558
8559
8560
8561
8562
8563
8564
8565
8566
8567
8568
8569
8570
8571
8572
8573
8574
8575
8576
8577
8578
8579
8580
8581
8582
8583
8584
8585
8586
8587
8588
8589
8590
8591
8592
8593
8594
8595
8596
8597
8598
8599
8600
8601
8602
8603
8604
8605
8606
8607
8608
8609
8610
8611
8612
8613
8614
8615
8616
8617
8618
8619
8620
8621
8622
8623
8624
8625
8626
8627
8628
8629
8630
8631
8632
8633
8634
8635
8636
8637
8638
8639
8640
8641
8642
8643
8644
8645
8646
8647
8648
8649
8650
8651
8652
8653
8654
8655
8656
8657
8658
8659
8660
8661
8662
8663
8664
8665
8666
8667
8668
8669
8670
8671
8672
8673
8674
8675
8676
8677
8678
8679
8680
8681
8682
8683
8684
8685
8686
8687
8688
8689
8690
8691
8692
8693
8694
8695
8696
8697
8698
8699
8700
8701
8702
8703
8704
8705
8706
8707
8708
8709
8710
8711
8712
8713
8714
8715
8716
8717
8718
8719
8720
8721
8722
8723
8724
8725
8726
8727
8728
8729
8730
8731
8732
8733
8734
8735
8736
8737
8738
8739
8740
8741
8742
8743
8744
8745
8746
8747
8748
8749
8750
8751
8752
8753
8754
8755
8756
8757
8758
8759
8760
8761
8762
8763
8764
8765
8766
8767
8768
8769
8770
8771
8772
8773
8774
8775
8776
8777
8778
8779
8780
8781
8782
8783
8784
8785
8786
8787
8788
8789
8790
8791
8792
8793
8794
8795
8796
8797
8798
8799
8800
8801
8802
8803
8804
8805
8806
8807
8808
8809
8810
8811
8812
8813
8814
8815
8816
8817
8818
8819
8820
8821
8822
8823
8824
8825
8826
8827
8828
8829
8830
8831
8832
8833
8834
8835
8836
8837
8838
8839
8840
8841
8842
8843
8844
8845
8846
8847
8848
8849
8850
8851
8852
8853
8854
8855
8856
8857
8858
8859
8860
8861
8862
8863
8864
8865
8866
8867
8868
8869
8870
8871
8872
8873
8874
8875
8876
8877
8878
8879
8880
8881
8882
8883
8884
8885
8886
8887
8888
8889
8890
8891
8892
8893
8894
8895
8896
8897
8898
8899
8900
8901
8902
8903
8904
8905
8906
8907
8908
8909
8910
8911
8912
8913
8914
8915
8916
8917
8918
8919
8920
8921
8922
8923
8924
8925
8926
8927
8928
8929
8930
8931
8932
8933
8934
8935
8936
8937
8938
8939
8940
8941
8942
8943
8944
8945
8946
8947
8948
8949
8950
8951
8952
8953
8954
8955
8956
8957
8958
8959
8960
8961
8962
8963
8964
8965
8966
8967
8968
8969
8970
8971
8972
8973
8974
8975
8976
8977
8978
8979
8980
8981
8982
8983
8984
8985
8986
8987
8988
8989
8990
8991
8992
8993
8994
8995
8996
8997
8998
8999
9000
9001
9002
9003
9004
9005
9006
9007
9008
9009
9010
9011
9012
9013
9014
9015
9016
9017
9018
9019
9020
9021
9022
9023
9024
9025
9026
9027
9028
9029
9030
9031
9032
9033
9034
9035
9036
9037
9038
9039
9040
9041
9042
9043
9044
9045
9046
9047
9048
9049
9050
9051
9052
9053
9054
9055
9056
9057
9058
9059
9060
9061
9062
9063
9064
9065
9066
9067
9068
9069
9070
9071
9072
9073
9074
9075
9076
9077
9078
9079
9080
9081
9082
9083
9084
9085
9086
9087
9088
9089
9090
9091
9092
9093
9094
9095
9096
9097
9098
9099
9100
9101
9102
9103
9104
9105
9106
9107
9108
9109
9110
9111
9112
9113
9114
9115
9116
9117
9118
9119
9120
9121
9122
9123
9124
9125
9126
9127
9128
9129
9130
9131
9132
9133
9134
9135
9136
9137
9138
9139
9140
9141
9142
9143
9144
9145
9146
9147
9148
9149
9150
9151
9152
9153
9154
9155
9156
9157
9158
9159
9160
9161
9162
9163
9164
9165
9166
9167
9168
9169
9170
9171
9172
9173
9174
9175
9176
9177
9178
9179
9180
9181
9182
9183
9184
9185
9186
9187
9188
9189
9190
9191
9192
9193
9194
9195
9196
9197
9198
9199
9200
9201
9202
9203
9204
9205
9206
9207
9208
9209
9210
9211
9212
9213
9214
9215
9216
9217
9218
9219
9220
9221
9222
9223
9224
9225
9226
9227
9228
9229
9230
9231
9232
9233
9234
9235
9236
9237
9238
9239
9240
9241
9242
9243
9244
9245
9246
9247
9248
9249
9250
9251
9252
9253
9254
9255
9256
9257
9258
9259
9260
9261
9262
9263
9264
9265
9266
9267
9268
9269
9270
9271
9272
9273
9274
9275
9276
9277
9278
9279
9280
9281
9282
9283
9284
9285
9286
9287
9288
9289
9290
9291
9292
9293
9294
9295
9296
9297
9298
9299
9300
9301
9302
9303
9304
9305
9306
9307
9308
9309
9310
9311
9312
9313
9314
9315
9316
9317
9318
9319
9320
9321
9322
9323
9324
9325
9326
9327
9328
9329
9330
9331
9332
9333
9334
9335
9336
9337
9338
9339
9340
9341
9342
9343
9344
9345
9346
9347
9348
9349
9350
9351
9352
9353
9354
9355
9356
9357
9358
9359
9360
9361
9362
9363
9364
9365
9366
9367
9368
9369
9370
9371
9372
9373
9374
9375
9376
9377
9378
9379
9380
9381
9382
9383
9384
9385
9386
9387
9388
9389
9390
9391
9392
9393
9394
9395
9396
9397
9398
9399
9400
9401
9402
9403
9404
9405
9406
9407
9408
9409
9410
9411
9412
9413
9414
9415
9416
9417
9418
9419
9420
9421
9422
9423
9424
9425
9426
9427
9428
9429
9430
9431
9432
9433
9434
9435
9436
9437
9438
9439
9440
9441
9442
9443
9444
9445
9446
9447
9448
9449
9450
9451
9452
9453
9454
9455
9456
9457
9458
9459
9460
9461
9462
9463
9464
9465
9466
9467
9468
9469
9470
9471
9472
9473
9474
9475
9476
9477
9478
9479
9480
9481
9482
9483
9484
9485
9486
9487
9488
9489
9490
9491
9492
9493
9494
9495
9496
9497
9498
9499
9500
9501
9502
9503
9504
9505
9506
9507
9508
9509
9510
9511
9512
9513
9514
9515
9516
9517
9518
9519
9520
9521
9522
9523
9524
9525
9526
9527
9528
9529
9530
9531
9532
9533
9534
9535
9536
9537
9538
9539
9540
9541
9542
9543
9544
9545
9546
9547
9548
9549
9550
9551
9552
9553
9554
9555
9556
9557
9558
9559
9560
9561
9562
9563
9564
9565
9566
9567
9568
9569
9570
9571
9572
9573
9574
9575
9576
9577
9578
9579
9580
9581
9582
9583
9584
9585
9586
9587
9588
9589
9590
9591
9592
9593
9594
9595
9596
9597
9598
9599
9600
9601
9602
9603
9604
9605
9606
9607
9608
9609
9610
9611
9612
9613
9614
9615
9616
9617
9618
9619
9620
9621
9622
9623
9624
9625
9626
9627
9628
9629
9630
9631
9632
9633
9634
9635
9636
9637
9638
9639
9640
9641
9642
9643
9644
9645
9646
9647
9648
9649
9650
9651
9652
9653
9654
9655
9656
9657
9658
9659
9660
9661
9662
9663
9664
9665
9666
9667
9668
9669
9670
9671
9672
9673
9674
9675
9676
9677
9678
9679
9680
9681
9682
9683
9684
9685
9686
9687
9688
9689
9690
9691
9692
9693
9694
9695
9696
9697
9698
9699
9700
9701
9702
9703
9704
9705
9706
9707
9708
9709
9710
9711
9712
9713
9714
9715
9716
9717
9718
9719
9720
9721
9722
9723
9724
9725
9726
9727
9728
9729
9730
9731
9732
9733
9734
9735
9736
9737
9738
9739
9740
9741
9742
9743
9744
9745
9746
9747
9748
9749
9750
9751
9752
9753
9754
9755
9756
9757
9758
9759
9760
9761
9762
9763
9764
9765
9766
9767
9768
9769
9770
9771
9772
9773
9774
9775
9776
9777
9778
9779
9780
9781
9782
9783
9784
9785
9786
9787
9788
9789
9790
9791
9792
9793
9794
9795
9796
9797
9798
9799
9800
9801
9802
9803
9804
9805
9806
9807
9808
9809
9810
9811
9812
9813
9814
9815
9816
9817
9818
9819
9820
9821
9822
9823
9824
9825
9826
9827
9828
9829
9830
9831
9832
9833
9834
9835
9836
9837
9838
9839
9840
9841
9842
9843
9844
9845
9846
9847
9848
9849
9850
9851
9852
9853
9854
9855
9856
9857
9858
9859
9860
9861
9862
9863
9864
9865
9866
9867
9868
9869
9870
9871
9872
9873
9874
9875
9876
9877
9878
9879
9880
9881
9882
9883
9884
9885
9886
9887
9888
9889
9890
9891
9892
9893
9894
9895
9896
9897
9898
9899
9900
9901
9902
9903
9904
9905
9906
9907
9908
9909
9910
9911
9912
9913
9914
9915
9916
9917
9918
9919
9920
9921
9922
9923
9924
9925
9926
9927
9928
9929
9930
9931
9932
9933
9934
9935
9936
9937
9938
9939
9940
9941
9942
9943
9944
9945
9946
9947
9948
9949
9950
9951
9952
9953
9954
9955
9956
9957
9958
9959
9960
9961
9962
9963
9964
9965
9966
9967
9968
9969
9970
9971
9972
9973
9974
9975
9976
9977
9978
9979
9980
9981
9982
9983
9984
9985
9986
9987
9988
9989
9990
9991
9992
9993
9994
9995
9996
9997
9998
9999
10000
10001
10002
10003
10004
10005
10006
10007
10008
10009
10010
10011
10012
10013
10014
10015
10016
10017
10018
10019
10020
10021
10022
10023
10024
10025
10026
10027
10028
10029
10030
10031
10032
10033
10034
10035
10036
10037
10038
10039
10040
10041
10042
10043
10044
10045
10046
10047
10048
10049
10050
10051
10052
10053
10054
10055
10056
10057
10058
10059
10060
10061
10062
10063
10064
10065
10066
10067
10068
10069
10070
10071
10072
10073
10074
10075
10076
10077
10078
10079
10080
10081
10082
10083
10084
10085
10086
10087
10088
10089
10090
10091
10092
10093
10094
10095
10096
10097
10098
10099
10100
10101
10102
10103
10104
10105
10106
10107
10108
10109
10110
10111
10112
10113
10114
10115
10116
10117
10118
10119
10120
10121
10122
10123
10124
10125
10126
10127
10128
10129
10130
10131
10132
10133
10134
10135
10136
10137
10138
10139
10140
10141
10142
10143
10144
10145
10146
10147
10148
10149
10150
10151
10152
10153
10154
10155
10156
10157
10158
10159
10160
10161
10162
10163
10164
10165
10166
10167
10168
10169
10170
10171
10172
10173
10174
10175
10176
10177
10178
10179
10180
10181
10182
10183
10184
10185
10186
10187
10188
10189
10190
10191
10192
10193
10194
10195
10196
10197
10198
10199
10200
10201
10202
10203
10204
10205
10206
10207
10208
10209
10210
10211
10212
10213
10214
10215
10216
10217
10218
10219
10220
10221
10222
10223
10224
10225
10226
10227
10228
10229
10230
10231
10232
10233
10234
10235
10236
10237
10238
10239
10240
10241
10242
10243
10244
10245
10246
10247
10248
10249
10250
10251
10252
10253
10254
10255
10256
10257
10258
10259
10260
10261
10262
10263
10264
10265
10266
10267
10268
10269
10270
10271
10272
10273
10274
10275
10276
10277
10278
10279
10280
10281
10282
10283
10284
10285
10286
10287
10288
10289
10290
10291
10292
10293
10294
10295
10296
10297
10298
10299
10300
10301
10302
10303
10304
10305
10306
10307
10308
10309
10310
10311
10312
10313
10314
10315
10316
10317
10318
10319
10320
10321
10322
10323
10324
10325
10326
10327
10328
10329
10330
10331
10332
10333
10334
10335
10336
10337
10338
10339
10340
10341
10342
10343
10344
10345
10346
10347
10348
10349
10350
10351
10352
10353
10354
10355
10356
10357
10358
10359
10360
10361
10362
10363
10364
10365
10366
10367
10368
10369
10370
10371
10372
10373
10374
10375
10376
10377
10378
10379
10380
10381
10382
10383
10384
10385
10386
10387
10388
10389
10390
10391
10392
10393
10394
10395
10396
10397
10398
10399
10400
10401
10402
10403
10404
10405
10406
10407
10408
10409
10410
10411
10412
10413
10414
10415
10416
10417
10418
10419
10420
10421
10422
10423
10424
10425
10426
10427
10428
10429
10430
10431
10432
10433
10434
10435
10436
10437
10438
10439
10440
10441
10442
10443
10444
10445
10446
10447
10448
10449
10450
10451
10452
10453
10454
10455
10456
10457
10458
10459
10460
10461
10462
10463
10464
10465
10466
10467
10468
10469
10470
10471
10472
10473
10474
10475
10476
10477
10478
10479
10480
10481
10482
10483
10484
10485
10486
10487
10488
10489
10490
10491
10492
10493
10494
10495
10496
10497
10498
10499
10500
10501
10502
10503
10504
10505
10506
10507
10508
10509
10510
10511
10512
10513
10514
10515
10516
10517
10518
10519
10520
10521
10522
10523
10524
10525
10526
10527
10528
10529
10530
10531
10532
10533
10534
10535
10536
10537
10538
10539
10540
10541
10542
10543
10544
10545
10546
10547
10548
10549
10550
10551
10552
10553
10554
10555
10556
10557
10558
10559
10560
10561
10562
10563
10564
10565
10566
10567
10568
10569
10570
10571
10572
10573
10574
10575
10576
10577
10578
10579
10580
10581
10582
10583
10584
10585
10586
10587
10588
10589
10590
10591
10592
10593
10594
10595
10596
10597
10598
10599
10600
10601
10602
10603
10604
10605
10606
10607
10608
10609
10610
10611
10612
10613
10614
10615
10616
10617
10618
10619
10620
10621
10622
10623
10624
10625
10626
10627
10628
10629
10630
10631
10632
10633
10634
10635
10636
10637
10638
10639
10640
10641
10642
10643
10644
10645
10646
10647
10648
10649
10650
10651
10652
10653
10654
10655
10656
10657
10658
10659
10660
10661
10662
10663
10664
10665
10666
10667
10668
10669
10670
10671
10672
10673
10674
10675
10676
10677
10678
10679
10680
10681
10682
10683
10684
10685
10686
10687
10688
10689
10690
10691
10692
10693
10694
10695
10696
10697
10698
10699
10700
10701
10702
10703
10704
10705
10706
10707
10708
10709
10710
10711
10712
10713
10714
10715
10716
10717
10718
10719
10720
10721
10722
10723
10724
10725
10726
10727
10728
10729
10730
10731
10732
10733
10734
10735
10736
10737
10738
10739
10740
10741
10742
10743
10744
10745
10746
10747
10748
10749
10750
10751
10752
10753
10754
10755
10756
10757
10758
10759
10760
10761
10762
10763
10764
10765
10766
10767
10768
10769
10770
10771
10772
10773
10774
10775
10776
10777
10778
10779
10780
10781
10782
10783
10784
10785
10786
10787
10788
10789
10790
10791
10792
10793
10794
10795
10796
10797
10798
10799
10800
10801
10802
10803
10804
10805
10806
10807
10808
10809
10810
10811
10812
10813
10814
10815
10816
10817
10818
10819
10820
10821
10822
10823
10824
10825
10826
10827
10828
10829
10830
10831
10832
10833
10834
10835
10836
10837
10838
10839
10840
10841
10842
10843
10844
10845
10846
10847
10848
10849
10850
10851
10852
10853
10854
10855
10856
10857
10858
10859
10860
10861
10862
10863
10864
10865
10866
10867
10868
10869
10870
10871
10872
10873
10874
10875
10876
10877
10878
10879
10880
10881
10882
10883
10884
10885
10886
10887
10888
10889
10890
10891
10892
10893
10894
10895
10896
10897
10898
10899
10900
10901
10902
10903
10904
10905
10906
10907
10908
10909
10910
10911
10912
10913
10914
10915
10916
10917
10918
10919
10920
10921
10922
10923
10924
10925
10926
10927
10928
10929
10930
10931
10932
10933
10934
10935
10936
10937
10938
10939
10940
10941
10942
10943
10944
10945
10946
10947
10948
10949
10950
10951
10952
10953
10954
10955
10956
10957
10958
10959
10960
10961
10962
10963
10964
10965
10966
10967
10968
10969
10970
10971
10972
10973
10974
10975
10976
10977
10978
10979
10980
10981
10982
10983
10984
10985
10986
10987
10988
10989
10990
10991
10992
10993
10994
10995
10996
10997
10998
10999
11000
11001
11002
11003
11004
11005
11006
11007
11008
11009
11010
11011
11012
11013
11014
11015
11016
11017
11018
11019
11020
11021
11022
11023
11024
11025
11026
11027
11028
11029
11030
11031
11032
11033
11034
11035
11036
11037
11038
11039
11040
11041
11042
11043
11044
11045
11046
11047
11048
11049
11050
11051
11052
11053
11054
11055
11056
11057
11058
11059
11060
11061
11062
11063
11064
11065
11066
11067
11068
11069
11070
11071
11072
11073
11074
11075
11076
11077
11078
11079
11080
11081
11082
11083
11084
11085
11086
11087
11088
11089
11090
11091
11092
11093
11094
11095
11096
11097
11098
11099
11100
11101
11102
11103
11104
11105
11106
11107
11108
11109
11110
11111
11112
11113
11114
11115
11116
11117
11118
11119
11120
11121
11122
11123
11124
11125
11126
11127
11128
11129
11130
11131
11132
11133
11134
11135
11136
11137
11138
11139
11140
11141
11142
11143
11144
11145
11146
11147
11148
11149
11150
11151
11152
11153
11154
11155
11156
11157
11158
11159
11160
11161
11162
11163
11164
11165
11166
11167
11168
11169
11170
11171
11172
11173
11174
11175
11176
11177
11178
11179
11180
11181
11182
11183
11184
11185
11186
11187
11188
11189
11190
11191
11192
11193
11194
11195
11196
11197
11198
11199
11200
11201
11202
11203
11204
11205
11206
11207
11208
11209
11210
11211
11212
11213
11214
11215
11216
11217
11218
11219
11220
11221
11222
11223
11224
11225
11226
11227
11228
11229
11230
11231
11232
11233
11234
11235
11236
11237
11238
11239
11240
11241
11242
11243
11244
11245
11246
11247
11248
11249
11250
11251
11252
11253
11254
11255
11256
11257
11258
11259
11260
11261
11262
11263
11264
11265
11266
11267
11268
11269
11270
11271
11272
11273
11274
11275
11276
11277
11278
11279
11280
11281
11282
11283
11284
11285
11286
11287
11288
11289
11290
11291
11292
11293
11294
11295
11296
11297
11298
11299
11300
11301
11302
11303
11304
11305
11306
11307
11308
11309
11310
11311
11312
11313
11314
11315
11316
11317
11318
11319
11320
11321
11322
11323
11324
11325
11326
11327
11328
11329
11330
11331
11332
11333
11334
11335
11336
11337
11338
11339
11340
11341
11342
11343
11344
11345
11346
11347
11348
11349
11350
11351
11352
11353
11354
11355
11356
11357
11358
11359
11360
11361
11362
11363
11364
11365
11366
11367
11368
11369
11370
11371
11372
11373
11374
11375
11376
11377
11378
11379
11380
11381
11382
11383
11384
11385
11386
11387
11388
11389
11390
11391
11392
11393
11394
11395
11396
11397
11398
11399
11400
11401
11402
11403
11404
11405
11406
11407
11408
11409
11410
11411
11412
11413
11414
11415
11416
11417
11418
11419
11420
11421
11422
11423
11424
11425
11426
11427
11428
11429
11430
11431
11432
11433
11434
11435
11436
11437
11438
11439
11440
11441
11442
11443
11444
11445
11446
11447
11448
11449
11450
11451
11452
11453
11454
11455
11456
11457
11458
11459
11460
11461
11462
11463
11464
11465
11466
11467
11468
11469
11470
11471
11472
11473
11474
11475
11476
11477
11478
11479
11480
11481
11482
11483
11484
11485
11486
11487
11488
11489
11490
11491
11492
11493
11494
11495
11496
11497
11498
11499
11500
11501
11502
11503
11504
11505
11506
11507
11508
11509
11510
11511
11512
11513
11514
11515
11516
11517
11518
11519
11520
11521
11522
11523
11524
11525
11526
11527
11528
11529
11530
11531
11532
11533
11534
11535
11536
11537
11538
11539
11540
11541
11542
11543
11544
11545
11546
11547
11548
11549
11550
11551
11552
11553
11554
11555
11556
11557
11558
11559
11560
11561
11562
11563
11564
11565
11566
11567
11568
11569
11570
11571
11572
11573
11574
11575
11576
11577
11578
11579
11580
11581
11582
11583
11584
11585
11586
11587
11588
11589
11590
11591
11592
11593
11594
11595
11596
11597
11598
11599
11600
11601
11602
11603
11604
11605
11606
11607
11608
11609
11610
11611
11612
11613
11614
11615
11616
11617
11618
11619
11620
11621
11622
11623
11624
11625
11626
11627
11628
11629
11630
11631
11632
11633
11634
11635
11636
11637
11638
11639
11640
11641
11642
11643
11644
11645
11646
11647
11648
11649
11650
11651
11652
11653
11654
11655
11656
11657
11658
11659
11660
11661
11662
11663
11664
11665
11666
11667
11668
11669
11670
11671
11672
11673
11674
11675
11676
11677
11678
11679
11680
11681
11682
11683
11684
11685
11686
11687
11688
11689
11690
11691
11692
11693
11694
11695
11696
11697
11698
11699
11700
11701
11702
11703
11704
11705
11706
11707
11708
11709
11710
11711
11712
11713
11714
11715
11716
11717
11718
11719
11720
11721
11722
11723
11724
11725
11726
11727
11728
11729
11730
11731
11732
11733
11734
11735
11736
11737
11738
11739
11740
11741
11742
11743
11744
11745
11746
11747
11748
11749
11750
11751
11752
11753
11754
11755
11756
11757
11758
11759
11760
11761
11762
11763
11764
11765
11766
11767
11768
11769
11770
11771
11772
11773
11774
11775
11776
11777
11778
11779
11780
11781
11782
11783
11784
11785
11786
11787
11788
11789
11790
11791
11792
11793
11794
11795
11796
11797
11798
11799
11800
11801
11802
11803
11804
11805
11806
11807
11808
11809
11810
11811
11812
11813
11814
11815
11816
11817
11818
11819
11820
11821
11822
11823
11824
11825
11826
11827
11828
11829
11830
11831
11832
11833
11834
11835
11836
11837
11838
11839
11840
11841
11842
11843
11844
11845
11846
11847
11848
11849
11850
11851
11852
11853
11854
11855
11856
11857
11858
11859
11860
11861
11862
11863
11864
11865
11866
11867
11868
11869
11870
11871
11872
11873
11874
11875
11876
11877
11878
11879
11880
11881
11882
11883
11884
11885
11886
11887
11888
11889
11890
11891
11892
11893
11894
11895
11896
11897
11898
11899
11900
11901
11902
11903
11904
11905
11906
11907
11908
11909
11910
11911
11912
11913
11914
11915
11916
11917
11918
11919
11920
11921
11922
11923
11924
11925
11926
11927
11928
11929
11930
11931
11932
11933
11934
11935
11936
11937
11938
11939
11940
11941
11942
11943
11944
11945
11946
11947
11948
11949
11950
11951
11952
11953
11954
11955
11956
11957
11958
11959
11960
11961
11962
11963
11964
11965
11966
11967
11968
11969
11970
11971
11972
11973
11974
11975
11976
11977
11978
11979
11980
11981
11982
11983
11984
11985
11986
11987
11988
11989
11990
11991
11992
11993
11994
11995
11996
11997
11998
11999
12000
12001
12002
12003
12004
12005
12006
12007
12008
12009
12010
12011
12012
12013
12014
12015
12016
12017
12018
12019
12020
12021
12022
12023
12024
12025
12026
12027
12028
12029
12030
12031
12032
12033
12034
12035
12036
12037
12038
12039
12040
12041
12042
12043
12044
12045
12046
12047
12048
12049
12050
12051
12052
12053
12054
12055
12056
12057
12058
12059
12060
12061
12062
12063
12064
12065
12066
12067
12068
12069
12070
12071
12072
12073
12074
12075
12076
12077
12078
12079
12080
12081
12082
12083
12084
12085
12086
12087
12088
12089
12090
12091
12092
12093
12094
12095
12096
12097
12098
12099
12100
12101
12102
12103
12104
12105
12106
12107
12108
12109
12110
12111
12112
12113
12114
12115
12116
12117
12118
12119
12120
12121
12122
12123
12124
12125
12126
12127
12128
12129
12130
12131
12132
12133
12134
12135
12136
12137
12138
12139
12140
12141
12142
12143
12144
12145
12146
12147
12148
12149
12150
12151
12152
12153
12154
12155
12156
12157
12158
12159
12160
12161
12162
12163
12164
12165
12166
12167
12168
12169
12170
12171
12172
12173
12174
12175
12176
12177
12178
12179
12180
12181
12182
12183
12184
12185
12186
12187
12188
12189
12190
12191
12192
12193
12194
12195
12196
12197
12198
12199
12200
12201
12202
12203
12204
12205
12206
12207
12208
12209
12210
12211
12212
12213
12214
12215
12216
12217
12218
12219
12220
12221
12222
12223
12224
12225
12226
12227
12228
12229
12230
12231
12232
12233
12234
12235
12236
12237
12238
12239
12240
12241
12242
12243
12244
12245
12246
12247
12248
12249
12250
12251
12252
12253
12254
12255
12256
12257
12258
12259
12260
12261
12262
12263
12264
12265
12266
12267
12268
12269
12270
12271
12272
12273
12274
12275
12276
12277
12278
12279
12280
12281
12282
12283
12284
12285
12286
12287
12288
12289
12290
12291
12292
12293
12294
12295
12296
12297
12298
12299
12300
12301
12302
12303
12304
12305
12306
12307
12308
12309
12310
12311
12312
12313
12314
12315
12316
12317
12318
12319
12320
12321
12322
12323
12324
12325
12326
12327
12328
12329
12330
12331
12332
12333
12334
12335
12336
12337
12338
12339
12340
12341
12342
12343
12344
12345
12346
12347
12348
12349
12350
12351
12352
12353
12354
12355
12356
12357
12358
12359
12360
12361
12362
12363
12364
12365
12366
12367
12368
12369
12370
12371
12372
12373
12374
12375
12376
12377
12378
12379
12380
12381
12382
12383
12384
12385
12386
12387
12388
12389
12390
12391
12392
12393
12394
12395
12396
12397
12398
12399
12400
12401
12402
12403
12404
12405
12406
12407
12408
12409
12410
12411
12412
12413
12414
12415
12416
12417
12418
12419
12420
12421
12422
12423
12424
12425
12426
12427
12428
12429
12430
12431
12432
12433
12434
12435
12436
12437
12438
12439
12440
12441
12442
12443
12444
12445
12446
12447
12448
12449
12450
12451
12452
12453
12454
12455
12456
12457
12458
12459
12460
12461
12462
12463
12464
12465
12466
12467
12468
12469
12470
12471
12472
12473
12474
12475
12476
12477
12478
12479
12480
12481
12482
12483
12484
12485
12486
12487
12488
12489
12490
12491
12492
12493
12494
12495
12496
12497
12498
12499
12500
12501
12502
12503
12504
12505
12506
12507
12508
12509
12510
12511
12512
12513
12514
12515
12516
12517
12518
12519
12520
12521
12522
12523
12524
12525
12526
12527
12528
12529
12530
12531
12532
12533
12534
12535
12536
12537
12538
12539
12540
12541
12542
12543
12544
12545
12546
12547
12548
12549
12550
12551
12552
12553
12554
12555
12556
12557
12558
12559
12560
12561
12562
12563
12564
12565
12566
12567
12568
12569
12570
12571
12572
12573
12574
12575
12576
12577
12578
12579
12580
12581
12582
12583
12584
12585
12586
12587
12588
12589
12590
12591
12592
12593
12594
12595
12596
12597
12598
12599
12600
12601
12602
12603
12604
12605
12606
12607
12608
12609
12610
12611
12612
12613
12614
12615
12616
12617
12618
12619
12620
12621
12622
12623
12624
12625
12626
12627
12628
12629
12630
12631
12632
12633
12634
12635
12636
12637
12638
12639
12640
12641
12642
12643
12644
12645
12646
12647
12648
12649
12650
12651
12652
12653
12654
12655
12656
12657
12658
12659
12660
12661
12662
12663
12664
12665
12666
12667
12668
12669
12670
12671
12672
12673
12674
12675
12676
12677
12678
12679
12680
12681
12682
12683
12684
12685
12686
12687
12688
12689
12690
12691
12692
12693
12694
12695
12696
12697
12698
12699
12700
12701
12702
12703
12704
12705
12706
12707
12708
12709
12710
12711
12712
12713
12714
12715
12716
12717
12718
12719
12720
12721
12722
12723
12724
12725
12726
12727
12728
12729
12730
12731
12732
12733
12734
12735
12736
12737
12738
12739
12740
12741
12742
12743
12744
12745
12746
12747
12748
12749
12750
12751
12752
12753
12754
12755
12756
12757
12758
12759
12760
12761
12762
12763
12764
12765
12766
12767
12768
12769
12770
12771
12772
12773
12774
12775
12776
12777
12778
12779
12780
12781
12782
12783
12784
12785
12786
12787
12788
12789
12790
12791
12792
12793
12794
12795
12796
12797
12798
12799
12800
12801
12802
12803
12804
12805
12806
12807
12808
12809
12810
12811
12812
12813
12814
12815
12816
12817
12818
12819
12820
12821
12822
12823
12824
12825
12826
12827
12828
12829
12830
12831
12832
12833
12834
12835
12836
12837
12838
12839
12840
12841
12842
12843
12844
12845
12846
12847
12848
12849
12850
12851
12852
12853
12854
12855
12856
12857
12858
12859
12860
12861
12862
12863
12864
12865
12866
12867
12868
12869
12870
12871
12872
12873
12874
12875
12876
12877
12878
12879
12880
12881
12882
12883
12884
12885
12886
12887
12888
12889
12890
12891
12892
12893
12894
12895
12896
12897
12898
12899
12900
12901
12902
12903
12904
12905
12906
12907
12908
12909
12910
12911
12912
12913
12914
12915
12916
12917
12918
12919
12920
12921
12922
12923
12924
12925
12926
12927
12928
12929
12930
12931
12932
12933
12934
12935
12936
12937
12938
12939
12940
12941
12942
12943
12944
12945
12946
12947
12948
12949
12950
12951
12952
12953
12954
12955
12956
12957
12958
12959
12960
12961
12962
12963
12964
12965
12966
12967
12968
12969
12970
12971
12972
12973
12974
12975
12976
12977
12978
12979
12980
12981
12982
12983
12984
12985
12986
12987
12988
12989
12990
12991
12992
12993
12994
12995
12996
12997
12998
12999
13000
13001
13002
13003
13004
13005
13006
13007
13008
13009
13010
13011
13012
13013
13014
13015
13016
13017
13018
13019
13020
13021
13022
13023
13024
13025
13026
13027
13028
13029
13030
13031
13032
13033
13034
13035
13036
13037
13038
13039
13040
13041
13042
13043
13044
13045
13046
13047
13048
13049
13050
13051
13052
13053
13054
13055
13056
13057
13058
13059
13060
13061
13062
13063
13064
13065
13066
13067
13068
13069
13070
13071
13072
13073
13074
13075
13076
13077
13078
13079
13080
13081
13082
13083
13084
13085
13086
13087
13088
13089
13090
13091
13092
13093
13094
13095
13096
13097
13098
13099
13100
13101
13102
13103
13104
13105
13106
13107
13108
13109
13110
13111
13112
13113
13114
13115
13116
13117
13118
13119
13120
13121
13122
13123
13124
13125
13126
13127
13128
13129
13130
13131
13132
13133
13134
13135
13136
13137
13138
13139
13140
13141
13142
13143
13144
13145
13146
13147
13148
13149
13150
13151
13152
13153
13154
13155
13156
13157
13158
13159
13160
13161
13162
13163
13164
13165
13166
13167
13168
13169
13170
13171
13172
13173
13174
13175
13176
13177
13178
13179
13180
13181
13182
13183
13184
13185
13186
13187
13188
13189
13190
13191
13192
13193
13194
13195
13196
13197
13198
13199
13200
13201
13202
13203
13204
13205
13206
13207
13208
13209
13210
13211
13212
13213
13214
13215
13216
13217
13218
13219
13220
13221
13222
13223
13224
13225
13226
13227
13228
13229
13230
13231
13232
13233
13234
13235
13236
13237
13238
13239
13240
13241
13242
13243
13244
13245
13246
13247
13248
13249
13250
13251
13252
13253
13254
13255
13256
13257
13258
13259
13260
13261
13262
13263
13264
13265
13266
13267
13268
13269
13270
13271
13272
13273
13274
13275
13276
13277
13278
13279
13280
13281
13282
13283
13284
13285
13286
13287
13288
13289
13290
13291
13292
13293
13294
13295
13296
13297
13298
13299
13300
13301
13302
13303
13304
13305
13306
13307
13308
13309
13310
13311
13312
13313
13314
13315
13316
13317
13318
13319
13320
13321
13322
13323
13324
13325
13326
13327
13328
13329
13330
13331
13332
13333
13334
13335
13336
13337
13338
13339
13340
13341
13342
13343
13344
13345
13346
13347
13348
13349
13350
13351
13352
13353
13354
13355
13356
13357
13358
13359
13360
13361
13362
13363
13364
13365
13366
13367
13368
13369
13370
13371
13372
13373
13374
13375
13376
13377
13378
13379
13380
13381
13382
13383
13384
13385
13386
13387
13388
13389
13390
13391
13392
13393
13394
13395
13396
13397
13398
13399
13400
13401
13402
13403
13404
13405
13406
13407
13408
13409
13410
13411
13412
13413
13414
13415
13416
13417
13418
13419
13420
13421
13422
13423
13424
13425
13426
13427
13428
13429
13430
13431
13432
13433
13434
13435
13436
13437
13438
13439
13440
13441
13442
13443
13444
13445
13446
13447
13448
13449
13450
13451
13452
13453
13454
13455
13456
13457
13458
13459
13460
13461
13462
13463
13464
13465
13466
13467
13468
13469
13470
13471
13472
13473
13474
13475
13476
13477
13478
13479
13480
13481
13482
13483
13484
13485
13486
13487
13488
13489
13490
13491
13492
13493
13494
13495
13496
13497
13498
13499
13500
13501
13502
13503
13504
13505
13506
13507
13508
13509
13510
13511
13512
13513
13514
13515
13516
13517
13518
13519
13520
13521
13522
13523
13524
13525
13526
13527
13528
13529
13530
13531
13532
13533
13534
13535
13536
13537
13538
13539
13540
13541
13542
13543
13544
13545
13546
13547
13548
13549
13550
13551
13552
13553
13554
13555
13556
13557
13558
13559
13560
13561
13562
13563
13564
13565
13566
13567
13568
13569
13570
13571
13572
13573
13574
13575
13576
13577
13578
13579
13580
13581
13582
13583
13584
13585
13586
13587
13588
13589
13590
13591
13592
13593
13594
13595
13596
13597
13598
13599
13600
13601
13602
13603
13604
13605
13606
13607
13608
13609
13610
13611
13612
13613
13614
13615
13616
13617
13618
13619
13620
13621
13622
13623
13624
13625
13626
13627
13628
13629
13630
13631
13632
13633
13634
13635
13636
13637
13638
13639
13640
13641
13642
13643
13644
13645
13646
13647
13648
13649
13650
13651
13652
13653
13654
13655
13656
13657
13658
13659
13660
13661
13662
13663
13664
13665
13666
13667
13668
13669
13670
13671
13672
13673
13674
13675
13676
13677
13678
13679
13680
13681
13682
13683
13684
13685
13686
13687
13688
13689
13690
13691
13692
13693
13694
13695
13696
13697
13698
13699
13700
13701
13702
13703
13704
13705
13706
13707
13708
13709
13710
13711
13712
13713
13714
13715
13716
13717
13718
13719
13720
13721
13722
13723
13724
13725
13726
13727
13728
13729
13730
13731
13732
13733
13734
13735
13736
13737
13738
13739
13740
13741
13742
13743
13744
13745
13746
13747
13748
13749
13750
13751
13752
13753
13754
13755
13756
13757
13758
13759
13760
13761
13762
13763
13764
13765
13766
13767
13768
13769
13770
13771
13772
13773
13774
13775
13776
13777
13778
13779
13780
13781
13782
13783
13784
13785
13786
13787
13788
13789
13790
13791
13792
13793
13794
13795
13796
13797
13798
13799
13800
13801
13802
13803
13804
13805
13806
13807
13808
13809
13810
13811
13812
13813
13814
13815
13816
13817
13818
13819
13820
13821
13822
13823
13824
13825
13826
13827
13828
13829
13830
13831
13832
13833
13834
13835
13836
13837
13838
13839
13840
13841
13842
13843
13844
13845
13846
13847
13848
13849
13850
13851
13852
13853
13854
13855
13856
13857
13858
13859
13860
13861
13862
13863
13864
13865
13866
13867
13868
13869
13870
13871
13872
13873
13874
13875
13876
13877
13878
13879
13880
13881
13882
13883
13884
13885
13886
13887
13888
13889
13890
13891
13892
13893
13894
13895
13896
13897
13898
13899
13900
13901
13902
13903
13904
13905
13906
13907
13908
13909
13910
13911
13912
13913
13914
13915
13916
13917
13918
13919
13920
13921
13922
13923
13924
13925
13926
13927
13928
13929
13930
13931
13932
13933
13934
13935
13936
13937
13938
13939
13940
13941
13942
13943
13944
13945
13946
13947
13948
13949
13950
13951
13952
13953
13954
13955
13956
13957
13958
13959
13960
13961
13962
13963
13964
13965
13966
13967
13968
13969
13970
13971
13972
13973
13974
13975
13976
13977
13978
13979
13980
13981
13982
13983
13984
13985
13986
13987
13988
13989
13990
13991
13992
13993
13994
13995
13996
13997
13998
13999
14000
14001
14002
14003
14004
14005
14006
14007
14008
14009
14010
14011
14012
14013
14014
14015
14016
14017
14018
14019
14020
14021
14022
14023
14024
14025
14026
14027
14028
14029
14030
14031
14032
14033
14034
14035
14036
14037
14038
14039
14040
14041
14042
14043
14044
14045
14046
14047
14048
14049
14050
14051
14052
14053
14054
14055
14056
14057
14058
14059
14060
14061
14062
14063
14064
14065
14066
14067
14068
14069
14070
14071
14072
14073
14074
14075
14076
14077
14078
14079
14080
14081
14082
14083
14084
14085
14086
14087
14088
14089
14090
14091
14092
14093
14094
14095
14096
14097
14098
14099
14100
14101
14102
14103
14104
14105
14106
14107
14108
14109
14110
14111
14112
14113
14114
14115
14116
14117
14118
14119
14120
14121
14122
14123
14124
14125
14126
14127
14128
14129
14130
14131
14132
14133
14134
14135
14136
14137
14138
14139
14140
14141
14142
14143
14144
14145
14146
14147
14148
14149
14150
14151
14152
14153
14154
14155
14156
14157
14158
14159
14160
14161
14162
14163
14164
14165
14166
14167
14168
14169
14170
14171
14172
14173
14174
14175
14176
14177
14178
14179
14180
14181
14182
14183
14184
14185
14186
14187
14188
14189
14190
14191
14192
14193
14194
14195
14196
14197
14198
14199
14200
14201
14202
14203
14204
14205
14206
14207
14208
14209
14210
14211
14212
14213
14214
14215
14216
14217
14218
14219
14220
14221
14222
14223
14224
14225
14226
14227
14228
14229
14230
14231
14232
14233
14234
14235
14236
14237
14238
14239
14240
14241
14242
14243
14244
14245
14246
14247
14248
14249
14250
14251
14252
14253
14254
14255
14256
14257
14258
14259
14260
14261
14262
14263
14264
14265
14266
14267
14268
14269
14270
14271
14272
14273
14274
14275
14276
14277
14278
14279
14280
14281
14282
14283
14284
14285
14286
14287
14288
14289
14290
14291
14292
14293
14294
14295
14296
14297
14298
14299
14300
14301
14302
14303
14304
14305
14306
14307
14308
14309
14310
14311
14312
14313
14314
14315
14316
14317
14318
14319
14320
14321
14322
14323
14324
14325
14326
14327
14328
14329
14330
14331
14332
14333
14334
14335
14336
14337
14338
14339
14340
14341
14342
14343
14344
14345
14346
14347
14348
14349
14350
14351
14352
14353
14354
14355
14356
14357
14358
14359
14360
14361
14362
14363
14364
14365
14366
14367
14368
14369
14370
14371
14372
14373
14374
14375
14376
14377
14378
14379
14380
14381
14382
14383
14384
14385
14386
14387
14388
14389
14390
14391
14392
14393
14394
14395
14396
14397
14398
14399
14400
14401
14402
14403
14404
14405
14406
14407
14408
14409
14410
14411
14412
14413
14414
14415
14416
14417
14418
14419
14420
14421
14422
14423
|
<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
<head>
<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" />
<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
<title>
The Project Gutenberg eBook of Modern Poets and Poetry of Spain, by James Kennedy.
</title>
<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" />
<style type="text/css">
a {
text-decoration: none;
}
body {
margin-left: 10%;
margin-right: 10%;
}
h1,h2,h3,h4,h5 {
text-align: center;
clear: both;
}
hr {
margin-top: 2em;
margin-bottom: 2em;
clear: both;
width: 65%;
margin-left: 17.5%;
margin-right: 17.5%;
}
p {
margin-top: 0.5em;
text-align: justify;
margin-bottom: 0.5em;
text-indent: 1em;
}
table {
margin: 1em auto 1em auto;
max-width: 40em;
}
td {
padding-left: 2.25em;
padding-right: 0.25em;
vertical-align: top;
text-indent: -2em;
}
.antiqua {
font-family: "Old English Text MT", serif;
}
.center {
text-align: center;
text-indent: 0em;
}
.noindent {
text-indent: 0em;
}
.larger {
font-size: 150%;
}
.pad1 {
padding-left: 4em;
}
.pad2 {
padding-left: 6em;
}
.pagenum {
position: absolute;
right: 4%;
font-size: smaller;
text-align: right;
font-style: normal;
}
.poetry-container {
text-align: center;
margin: 1em;
}
.poetry {
display: inline-block;
text-align: left;
}
.poetry .stanza {
margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;
}
.poetry .verse {
text-indent: -3em;
padding-left: 3em;
}
.poetry .indent1 {
text-indent: -2em;
}
.poetry .indent2 {
text-indent: -1em;
}
.poetry .indent3 {
text-indent: 0em;
}
.poetry .indent4 {
text-indent: 1em;
}
.poetry .indent5 {
text-indent: 2em;
}
.poetry .indent6 {
text-indent: 3em;
}
.poetry .indent9 {
text-indent: 6em;
}
.poetry .indent14 {
text-indent: 11em;
}
.poetry .hr {
border-top: thin solid black;
}
.right {
text-align: right;
}
.smaller {
font-size: 80%;
}
.smcap {
font-variant: small-caps;
font-style: normal;
}
.tdc {
text-align: center;
}
.top-pad {
text-align: center;
padding-top: 0.75em;
}
.tdr {
text-align: right;
}
.titlepage {
text-align: center;
margin-top: 3em;
text-indent: 0em;
}
.transnote {
background-color: #E6E6FA;
color: black;
text-align: center;
font-size: smaller;
padding: 0.5em;
margin-bottom: 5em;
}
@media handheld {
.poetry {
display: block;
margin-left: 1.5em;
}
}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 53671 ***</div>
<p class="transnote">Transcriber’s Note: There is a good deal of
inconsistency with regard to spelling, accents etc in the Spanish
passages of this text. These have been preserved as printed rather than
attempting to correct or standardise.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[i]</a></span></p>
<p class="titlepage larger">MODERN POETS<br />
<span class="smaller">AND</span><br />
POETRY OF SPAIN.</p>
<p class="titlepage"><span class="smcap">By JAMES KENNEDY, Esq.</span>,<br />
<span class="smaller">HER BRITANNIC MAJESTY’S JUDGE IN THE MIXED COURT<br />
OF JUSTICE AT THE HAVANA.</span></p>
<p class="titlepage">WILLIAMS AND NORGATE,<br />
<span class="smaller">14, HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON;<br />
<span class="smaller">AND</span><br />
20, SOUTH FREDERICK STREET, EDINBURGH.<br />
1860.</span></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[ii]</a></span></p>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span></p>
<h2>TO<br />
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE<br />
<span class="larger">GEORGE, EARL OF CARLISLE,</span><br />
<span class="smaller"><i>&c. &c.</i></span></h2>
<p><span class="smcap">My Lord</span>,</p>
<p>I have sought permission to inscribe
your Lordship’s name on this page, as a favour appropriate
to my work, under the considerations in which
it originated.</p>
<p>I began these translations, partly as a means of
acquiring an accurate knowledge of the Spanish language,
and partly as a relaxation from other studies
and pursuits, about the time when your Lordship, in
the course of your statesmanlike visit to America,
made, in 1842, a lengthened stay in Cuba, studying
the circumstances of those countries, which are soon,
perhaps, to take a yet more prominent place, than
they do at present, in the history of the world.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span></p>
<p>The discussions I heard respecting that visit—for
it was then considered an extraordinary one—raised
in my mind many suggestions, as to the benefits
that must accrue to the public from the observations
of individual travellers. Accordingly as each one
might have his special object in view, his sphere of action
or opportunities of learning, so the knowledge he acquired
might be proportionately imparted. The community
at large had always evinced the greatest interest
in the accounts given by travellers of their
visits to foreign countries, as was shown by the
favourable reception uniformly given to their works.
Of these many that were published were well deserving
of the popularity they obtained, especially as with
regard to Spain there were several that left little for
any future writer to supply of ordinary information.
In one respect, however, all such works appeared to
me to be deficient, though their failure was almost
unavoidable, in the case of transient visitors, in their
being unable to convey any adequate idea of the state
of mental culture among the people they visited.</p>
<p>Yet this, to a philosophic reader, would be undoubtedly
the truest test of the state of civilization to
which any nation had attained. Such a reader would
not be contented with merely a recital of the every-day
occurrences of travelling, nor yet with general or
statistical information respecting any people, obtained
from ordinary sources. He would rather seek to
follow them into the occupations of private life and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span>
into their favourite courses of thought and feeling,
judging of these by the studies of their better classes
of society, in their hours of relaxation or for domestic
enjoyment. As the sagest of the Roman emperors,
M. Antoninus, observed, To know any people’s minds
and inclinations, we should examine their studies
and pursuits,—τὰ ἡγεμονικὰ αὐτῶν διάβλεπε, καὶ τοὺς
Φρόνιμους, διὰ μέν Φεύγουσιν, διὰ δὲ διώκουσιν.</p>
<p>Few persons going abroad for a short period, or
for a specific purpose, could be expected to acquire
such an intimate knowledge of the literature of any
country as to be able to render a satisfactory account
of it. Where, however, any one had the means and
the leisure to do so, that seemed to me the task most
worthy for him to undertake.</p>
<p>As a servant of the public, I considered this
more peculiarly a duty; and I therefore ventured, by
extending my studies, to attempt giving a comprehensive
view of Modern Spanish Poetry, and so complete
the representations of Spanish society and manners
given by other writers. This I thought best to
be done, first, by compiling some critical and biographical
notices of the principal modern poets; and,
next, by endeavouring to transfuse into English verse
the most favourable specimens of their productions,
by which the English reader might in some degree
be enabled to judge of their merits.</p>
<p>Such was the task I then set before me, the
results of which I now offer to the public as my contribution<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span>
to the store of general knowledge. For
such a work there can be little merit claimed, except
that for patient industry. But as a naturalist or collector
of works of art patriotically endeavours to bring
home the most valuable productions or treasures of
other countries, so I trust that this work may also
be favourably accepted, as a praiseworthy attempt
to enrich our English literature with what was most
interesting in the Spanish.</p>
<p>I have relied on your Lordship’s approval of the
design, from your well-known anxiety and constant
efforts to improve the moral and social condition of
the people, by literary as well as by legislative means.
Sharing in the public respect for those efforts on their
behalf, and with much thankfulness for the sanction
afforded me, I have the honour to subscribe myself,</p>
<p class="center">Your Lordship’s</p>
<p class="center pad1">Most obedient,</p>
<p class="center pad2">Humble Servant,</p>
<p class="right">J. KENNEDY.</p>
<p class="smaller">London,<br />
May 6, 1852.</p>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p>
<h2 id="INTRODUCTION">INTRODUCTION.</h2>
<p>Those writers are very much mistaken who suppose, that,
consequent upon the long domination of the Moors in Spain,
there are to be found in Spanish literature any of the exuberances
of style which are considered the principal characteristics
of Eastern poetry. In all the Moorish ballads that
have been handed down to us, those characteristics, both in
thought and expression, abound as much as in the poems of
more Eastern nations. But in even the earliest Spanish
ballads, contemporary with the Moorish, a very decided difference
is to be observed, as they show, on the contrary, a
simplicity of expression and propriety of thought, which present
an extraordinary contrast, not only to the Moorish, but
also to the early poetry of other European countries. This
favourable distinction has continued to the present day. The
poetry of the Northern nations of Europe has been marked
by extravagances throughout, as contrary to common sense as
to good taste and nature. That of the French school has
been distinguished by an affectation, a sentimentality and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span>
straining after effect, to say nothing of its peculiar ribaldry
and licentiousness, all equally removed from the true feeling
of poetry. Even the Italians, in their poetical works, have
indulged in strange absurdities, the more remarkable from
the good taste that has pervaded their other works of genius.
It is only in English literature that we can find writers imbued
with the same vigour of thought and depth of poetic
feeling as the Spanish, and it is therefore only with them
that the latter can be classed in considering the relative
merits of the poetry of different modern nations.</p>
<p>If the character of the poetry may be taken as the criterion
by which to judge of the degree of civilization to which any
people had attained in the earlier period of their history,
Spain has a good right to claim the first place among the
nations of Europe, when emerging from that period denominated
the Dark Ages. While the popular poetry of other
nations at that period was almost entirely occupied with
childish stories of giants and supernatural beings, or in magnifying
the outrages of their heroes, and even of their outlaws,
as if they were honourable exploits, instead of merely
murder and rapine, the Spanish bards were engaged in celebrating
the patriotism and prowess of their Christian warriors
in strains not unworthy of the deeds they commemorated.
Those strains have been made sufficiently well-known
to the English reader by the labours of Southey and Lockhart,
for which the student of Spanish literature must feel
the utmost respect and gratitude, as well as by those of
Rodd, Bowring and others. From their translations the
character of those warriors will be found to have been
distinguished, differently from those of other nations in that
age, for the milder virtues combined with pure chivalrous
enterprise. If, as apparently was the case, the great champion,
known as the Cid, especially was deserving of the eminently<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span>
honourable character depicted for him by the poets,
the popular feeling must have attained something of the
same tone when he was adopted as the first object of national
regard. Coming of a chivalrous race, engaged in a sacred
warfare, the Cid combined in his character all that was most
noble in human conduct, and gave to his countrymen a fame
which they knew full well how to appreciate. Thus the
spirit which the ballads breathed in recounting his exploits
was one in unison with that of the people. Each Spaniard
of after-times, in listening to those recitals, felt he had no
need to connect himself with fabulous narratives. He could
say, like Diomede,—“Of this race and blood do I boast myself
to be”—</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Ταύτης τοι γενεῆς τε καὶ αἴματος εὕχομαι εἶναι,</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class="noindent">and so feeling could identify himself truly with his heroes.</p>
<p>Formed originally of very different races, Celts and Goths,
mixed with the descendants of Romans and Phœnicians or
Carthaginians, the Spaniards had against the Moors become
amalgamated into one people, whose great bond of union was
their religion more even than their country. This holy cause
ennobled their conduct, and gave them higher aims and motives
than any ordinary warfare could do; so that acting constantly
under the sense of such feelings, their national character
assumed the staid bearing, which has always since so
favourably distinguished it. Hence also the national literature,
even in its lightest productions, assumed the tone of
high moral and practical tendency which it has generally
borne, far removed from the comparatively trifling topics
which formed the staple subjects of the literature of neighbouring
countries.</p>
<p>There is another mistake into which some writers have
fallen, in supposing that Spain owed her civilization entirely
to the Moors. The Arab conquest undoubtedly entailed on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[x]</a></span>
her for many ages a succession of enlightened as well as warlike
rulers, who are justly to be classed among the greatest
patrons of literature and art; but they fostered rather than
founded the sciences that afterwards flourished under their
rule, and which they found preparing to burst forth in the
country they conquered. Though their forefathers might
have come from the seats of learning in the East, such as
they then were, the immediate conquerors of Spain were
natives of the neighbouring parts of Africa, where the sciences
had not flourished in any remarkable degree before the
conquest, and where they did not rise subsequently to any
eminence. The learned Lampillas, who has given us a very
able Vindication of Spanish Literature, in answer to the attacks
of some Italian critics, might justly have gone further
than he has done as to its merits under the Moorish domination.
Rather than as owing her advances in learning and
civilization to the Moors, it is more probable that these were
the remains of former civilization, existing among the Roman
colonies on the dissolution of the empire. At that time
Spain was essentially inhabited by descendants of Romans,
as it still continues to be, mainly, to the present day. Latin
had become the language of the country, and the best of
the later Latin authors, Seneca, Lucan, Martial, Quinctilian
and others, were natives of the Peninsula. The Romans had
planted sixty-seven colonies there, and in the time of Vespasian
could enumerate 360 cities inhabited by them. These
would undoubtedly retain their municipal institutions, and
were perhaps more retentive of Roman manners than were
even the towns of Italy. The original inhabitants had been
driven into the mountains of Catalonia, Cantabria and Lusitania.
They were of Celtic origin, and their descendants in
those provinces still show that origin by a different pronunciation
of the language imposed on the country by the Romans;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span>
while the Castillians, being of purer descent from them,
speak even now a language little different from that in common
colloquial use under the Emperors. The lower orders, in
fact, speak an idiom nearer to it than do the educated classes,
showing that the main race of the people, in Madrid for instance,
remains essentially Roman. In Betica or Andalusia
and the South of Spain, the descendants of Romans had become
incorporated with those of Phœnician or Carthaginian
and a few Greek colonists, forming together a race perhaps
still more civilized than the new-comers. Thus the Moors
found the people they had conquered in a high state of civilization,
scarcely affected by former conquests, and they had
only the merit of accepting and continuing the mental culture
which they found there, and which they had not possessed
in their native deserts.</p>
<p>The Goths and Vandals had swept like a hurricane over
Spain; but they passed over it without leaving any considerable
traces of their conquest. This is clear from the circumstance
of so few Northern words remaining in the language
of the country. At the entrance of the Moors into Spain,
the dominant party there was certainly of Gothic descent;
but they had already lost their Northern idioms, and were
immerged in the mass of the people they had conquered, in
the usual course of such events, as the Scandinavians soon
did in Normandy and the Normans in England. When the
races had begun to amalgamate in Spain, the distinctive lines
might have been longer discernible in the South, if it had not
been for the Moorish invasion. This soon repeated the events
of former conquests, in the extermination of the fighting men
and the enslaving of the other classes, who became feudatories
or worse. Those who escaped to the mountains of the North
constituted a nucleus of resistance, which was no doubt much
strengthened in their subsequent contests by the aid of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[xii]</a></span>
Christian population left of necessity among the Moors, who
thus became dangerous as internal enemies, though they had
been tolerated at first as valuable dependents. The war that
then arose in Spain, and continued for upwards of 600 years,
was imbued, on the part of the Christians, with all those ingredients
of religious as well as patriotic feeling that render wars
remarkable for desperate conflict. On the part of the Moors,
it is but justice toward them to say, that for chivalrous honour
and bravery they proved themselves in no respect inferior to
their opponents, who, thus engaged in generous rivalry, became
distinguishable for the same virtues.</p>
<p>The circumstances of the wars between the Christians and
the Moors were too near to the every-day experience of the
people to allow of any imaginary addition to the legends of
the times, and they were too engrossing in importance and
interest to require any heightening. The ballads founded
upon them, therefore, assumed almost the matter-of-fact air
of history, and this seemed hence to become the characteristic
of all the subsequent literature of Spain. It is true that
romances abounded in which giants and other absurdities of
knight-errantry might be found, but they were principally of
foreign origin, and did not become incorporated in the national
poetry. This national poetry was always true to its
mission, for it may be observed that the poets of Spain have
seldom or never gone beyond their own history for their
heroes; they have rather instinctively followed the maxim of
the great lyrist of old, not to select objects of admiration from
strangers, but to seek them at home,—</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Οὐδ’ ἀλλοτρίων ἔρωτες</div>
<div class="verse">Ἀνδρὶ Φέρειν κρέσσονες,</div>
<div class="verse">Οἰκόθεν μάτευε.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class="noindent">Thus also they were secure of the sympathy of their audience,
and found patriotism the best inspirer of poetry.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[xiii]</a></span></p>
<p>None of the Spanish poets, of either former or present
times, can be said to have attained the highest rank; yet as
they have always shown a predilection for subjects of real incident
and passion or feeling, they have gained, in perhaps a
greater degree than those of any other modern nation, that
hold upon the popular affections which arises from all earnest
participation in kindred sentiments. This might arise partly
from the national character developed, as before intimated, in
the Moorish wars, and partly from the personal tendencies of
the respective individuals. Whilst in other countries the
poets were generally to be found among the classes dependent
upon the rich and powerful, in Spain they were persons generally
of the highest classes. Some were of royal rank, others
were eminent as statesmen, and others, if not of the same
high station, were yet equally engaged in military service or the
active business of life. Three of the most favourite poets, Garcilasso
de la Vega, Manrique, and Cadahalso, died the death of
soldiers from wounds received in warfare. Ercilla, author of
the chief poem in the Spanish language, which may be considered
an Epic, was a participant in the wars he so graphically
describes. Cervantes received three wounds at the battle
of Lepanto, by one of which he lost an arm. Calderon de la
Barca passed many years of his life in the campaigns in the
Low Countries, where he gained great military reputation;
and Lope de Vega was one of the few adventurers in the “Invincible
Armada” who were fortunate enough to return to
their native country. Such men were not likely to indulge
in dreamy idealities, or idle reveries, and fantastic imaginations,
the offspring of morbid temperaments and sedentary
habits. On the contrary, they were only calculated to adopt
that peculiar manliness of style and sentiment, which their
successors, from example, from national character, and from
being placed in similar circumstances of life, have continued.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[xiv]</a></span>
How far those circumstances have affected the modern literature
of Spain may be best seen from the memoirs hereafter
detailed of the principal poets individually. Our present
purpose in this Introduction is only to make general observations
to lead to the conclusions that may be deduced from
them.</p>
<p>Spain, as it has been already observed, cannot boast of
having ever produced a poet of the highest class, meaning by
that term, one of such high creative genius as to stamp his
character, not only on the literature of his own age and
country, but also on that of all successive ages within his
possible influence. Of such poets the world has only seen
four or five at the utmost, with the exception of the inspired
writers, referring to Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, Milton, and
perhaps we may add, Byron. With these, Virgil and other
imitators must not be classed, however great the talents they
may have displayed, nor yet other writers of greater originality
and even genius, who have, however, confined themselves to
minor works or those on less important subjects. Of such
writers of great original genius, who did not aim at works of
the highest order, Spanish literature may claim as many as
that of any other country. With them the English reader
has been made acquainted more fully than with the writers
of most other modern countries, by the works of Bouterwek
and Sismondi, translated respectively by Mrs. Ross and William
Roscoe, and now by the more comprehensive work of
Mr. Ticknor (New York, 1849; London, 1850), who has supplied
the deficiencies the others had left in the course of their
inquiries. Of these works Sismondi’s is little more than a
repetition of Bouterwek’s, without the acknowledgement
made which was in justice due to his original. That however
was in reality so jejune in treating of the materials at the
command of the writer, as almost to warrant the use of his materials<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xv" id="Page_xv">[xv]</a></span>
for a livelier production. Another work has been lately
published on Spanish literature by Mr. A. F. Foster (Edinburgh,
1851), compiled in like manner from former writers, which,
for succinct and able treatment of the subject, may perhaps
be recommended as the one best suited to the general reader.
But Mr. Ticknor’s book must remain the great work of reference
to the older Spanish authors, as he has left little for
future writers to supply respecting them. Yet neither has
he gone scarcely any further than Bouterwek, who wrote
at the beginning of this century, and since whose time so
many writers have arisen in Spain superior to any perhaps
that have preceded them. In such works we have more
cause to congratulate ourselves on having any one to undertake
the labour of going over so wide a field, than to complain
of his stopping short at a point where less was known
of Spanish literature, and where it became so much more interesting
as connected with our own times. But as all the
compilers now mentioned have so confined their labours to
works written previously to the present century, it may be
considered acceptable, in continuation of them, that the present
essay should be offered to the public. This is, however,
also undertaken on a more extended and somewhat different
plan; not merely giving short notices of the several authors
and their works, as in the nature of a catalogue or dictionary,
but taking only the principal poets for a particular account of
their history, and giving translations from their works most
characteristic of their genius or best suited for translation, for
the purpose of enabling the critical notices respecting them to
be better understood.</p>
<p>In treating of the literature of any country historically, it
may perhaps be considered necessary to give a catalogue of
every person who has published a book of any pretensions to
notice, whatever the different gradations of talent between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xvi" id="Page_xvi">[xvi]</a></span>
the authors; but for the general reader, the better course
seems rather to be to pass by those works which the nation
had not accepted as to be incorporated in the national literature,
and to dwell extendedly on those which, by repeated
editions, were entitled to be considered of that character.
Bouterwek’s work on Spanish literature, which appears to
have been his own performance, and which certainly does
great credit to his industry, is an exemplification of the
former course. The volume on Portuguese literature, under
his name, which he acknowledges to have been the contribution
of a friend, is not so liable to the same objection, and
may be considered written according to the other. It is so
difficult a task, and so enviable a lot for any one to attain to
excellence above his fellows, that beyond its being due to his
own merits, it is an advantage to others to show them by his
example the way to attain to the same eminence. Johnson,
in his Lives of the English Poets, has given us a work admirable
for its criticisms as well as for the other lessons it
conveys for general conduct in life; but those criticisms
would have lost much of their effect, if they had not had appended
to them the works to which they referred. Biography,
to be worthy of study, should be something more than
a mere enumeration of those particulars of a man’s life which
are of the common class of every-day events, so as to be the
reflex of every one’s in his station. If any man’s life be at
all more memorable than that of ordinary mortals, the means
by which he obtained his reputation alone merit a lengthened
consideration for an example for others. With authors those
claims must rest on their writings, which will speak for themselves;
but this cannot be the case with foreign authors, as
few readers of other nations can ever be expected to have acquired
their language so perfectly as to understand the essential
beauty of their poetry. To enable such readers therefore<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xvii" id="Page_xvii">[xvii]</a></span>
to understand their works, or even the criticisms upon them,
a translation is necessary, on which again much depends, not
only in respect of faithfulness but also of felicity of transcript,
to render the beauties of the original sufficiently perceptible.</p>
<p>Many rules have been given by critics for the benefit of
translators from the earliest times till now, to which it is not
necessary here to refer further than to state the plan upon which
these translations have been made. In a didactic or historical
work, the more precisely the translation is made according to
the letter of the original, the greater merit may it be considered
to possess. But in works of imagination, especially
of poetry, it may be more important to attend to the spirit
of the original than to the literal construction. The main
thoughts contained in each passage should be as faithfully
given in the one case as in the other, though it may not be
necessary, and sometimes not even becoming, to have the
same regard to details. With poetry, the translator should
make it his great aim to consider how his author would have
expressed the same thoughts if he had been writing in English
verse, and thus mould the original ideas into synonymous
poetical expressions, as far as the idioms of the two languages
and the requirements of metre will allow. It would be a poor
vanity in a translator to think of improving on his original,
so far as to make any alteration or addition merely for that
purpose. But where any words admit of synonyms with different
shades of meaning, it is certainly his right, if not his
duty, to adopt the one he thinks most suitable. Sometimes
it may seem to him accordant with good taste to make a more
decided alteration, and in every language there are many expressions
sufficiently poetical and appropriate, which if construed
literally into another would appear otherwise. These
the author, it may be supposed, would have altered himself,
under the same circumstances, and the other, therefore, in so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xviii" id="Page_xviii">[xviii]</a></span>
doing, would be only acting on his presumed wishes. In all
cases much must be left of necessity to the translator’s judgement,
and he, with every care he can take, must still be content
to share, with Pope and Dryden and the greatest masters
of rhyme, the consciousness of scarcely ever being able fully
to convey the conceptions of a foreign author. The shackles
of rhyme also require something to be sacrificed to them, so
as of themselves alone to prevent any exact copy being given
in verse. Yet still acting on the above considerations, and
by rejecting expletives in some cases and adding a few in
others, in following up the train of ideas suggested by the
original, we may hope to succeed perhaps not only in giving
the meaning, but something also of the spirit even of foreign
authors.</p>
<p>It is fortunate for any writer to have his works sent forth
to the world in any language of more than usual ascendency,
such as the Latin or English, whereby to obtain for himself,
if he can claim it, the most extended reputation. But it is
more fortunate for a translator under similar circumstances,
because languages of such a character are almost of necessity
mixed languages, acquiring from that cause an extraordinary
nerve and richness, which render translations into them to be
made more easily and satisfactorily than from them into a
poorer. The English is essentially suited for such a purpose,
as, being compounded of the French and German languages,
it becomes a double one, combining the nerve of the one
with the facility of expression of the other, and the copiousness
arising from the union of both. The Latin is still more
a mixed language, the roots of which are yet to be developed,
notwithstanding all the labours of philologists, who have
erred in wandering after imaginary extinct languages for its
derivations, instead of looking into those yet existing. Considering
the Spanish to be the direct descendant of the Latin,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xix" id="Page_xix">[xix]</a></span>
it may be a matter of surprise that, though a very sonorous
language, it cannot be termed a rich one. Abounding in
long words (sesquipedalia verba), it loses in precision and
strength what is gained in sound, and thus the ideas are encumbered
when simplification was required. The comparatively
monosyllabic character of the English language has in
this respect an immense advantage for the translator, as it
enables him to give the sentiments of the original more concisely
than one from it into another. Having also more
synonyms with different shades of meaning, a greater precision
may be lost or gained, according to the circumstances
and the judgement applied to them. Thus a translation may
sometimes be even superior to the original, from its giving the
ideas more distinctly, and as it is the test of good writing to
find how it reads in another language, so with really superior
authors it may be a matter of little importance in what version
their thoughts are expressed. “Words are the daughters
of earth, but thoughts are the sons of heaven.” It is not
presumed hereby that the following translations all come
under this consideration, but with the advantages above expressed,
it may be hoped that, as exotics in a greenhouse,
these flowers of Spanish poetry may be found pleasing representations
of what they were in their native soil, even if they
cannot be made entirely denizens of our own.</p>
<p>Differing entirely from those writers who suppose that the
best days of Spanish literature have gone by, and believing,
on the contrary, that it never has been more truly original
and flourishing than during the present and preceding ages,
it might be justly considered presumptuous in any new author
to present such opinions to the world without showing the
grounds on which they were founded. Bouterwek and his
copyist, Sismondi, together with their criticisms on the several
Spanish poets, contented themselves with giving merely a few<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xx" id="Page_xx">[xx]</a></span>
lines from the more favoured ones in their original language,
without any translation whereby to enable those ignorant of
it to judge even of the thoughts they contained. They thus
resemble the wiseacre in Hierocles (the Σχολαστικὸς, which
word Johnson has strangely translated ‘pedant,’ taking the
primary for the intended meaning), who brought a stone as
a description of a building. In so doing, they have seldom
given even favourable specimens; but if they had, there are
few authors who can be rightly estimated by isolated passages,
or even by any one short poem. Almost all authors
are unequal in their productions, and many seem, by an accidental
felicity, to have produced some one effusion to which
none of their other efforts could ever approach. As instances
of this, we may note Heber’s ‘Palestine;’ Pringle’s lines,
‘Afar in the Desert,’ and Leyden’s ‘Ode to an Indian Gold
Coin,’ which Colton has pronounced, in his opinion, “to
come as near to perfection as the sublunary Muse can
arrive at.”</p>
<p>It is only by several well-sustained efforts that any author
has a right to be placed among poets, and it would not be
just, therefore, to judge of any without such a consideration
of their productions. In all the translations here given, the
most characteristic specimens of the style of each writer have
been sought, particularly those containing what seemed to be
his favourite course of thought, while selecting entire, though
generally short, poems for that purpose. With the exception
of the Duke de Rivas, the poets enumerated in this work have
not published poems of any great length, and therefore the
plan adopted may be considered altogether appropriate to the
object in view.</p>
<p>With regard to the metres chosen, no rule has been attempted
of taking the original strictly for a guide, where the
style of verse, in a different language, would not admit of it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxi" id="Page_xxi">[xxi]</a></span>
easily. Perhaps the truest definition of Poetry may be given
in the words of our great poet—</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse indent2">“Thoughts that voluntary move</div>
<div class="verse">Harmonious numbers—”</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class="noindent">for it may be observed, that the finest passages are generally
the easiest for translation and for rhyme. Thus keeping the
original constantly in view as the guide, the verse has been
adopted as the thoughts seemed to indicate the metre most
appropriate.</p>
<p>With the disadvantage of rhyme, in a foreign language, no
apology is requisite for the ruggedness of any lines which the
critic may point out. I differ totally from those writers,
Coleridge and others, who affect a contempt for finished versification,
and rely entirely on the brilliancy of their ideas.
Whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing well, according
to the writer’s best capability, and the reader’s ear ought
surely to be as much consulted as his mind is sought to be
engaged. Those who have had to write “nonsense verses”
at school or college, have no right to excuse themselves from
labouring to make their lines run smoothly. If, therefore,
any of the following translations are not so rendered, it will
occasion the writer much regret that his best efforts for that
purpose have been unsuccessful.</p>
<p>Another complaint may be anticipated, that this work does
not comprehend authors either in prose or the drama. The
fault, if it be one, must be admitted, with the observation,
that the task undertaken was felt sufficient of itself to require
the best exertions of the writer. According to the plan laid
down of giving only entire pieces, in the case of including
either prose or dramatic writers, the work would have been
increased to an inordinate extent, or the plan must have been
adopted of giving extracts, which would be contrary to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxii" id="Page_xxii">[xxii]</a></span>
opinion expressed of the best course to be pursued. If this
attempt should meet with public approbation, some one else
may be induced to continue the further service. If it should
not, the labour expended on a larger work would be so much
more given in vain. In the one case, the failure might be
ascribed to having attempted too much; in the other, the
approbation might not have been gained but for the efforts
having been directed undividedly to what was thus only within
the reach of accomplishment.</p>
<p>In sequence of the remark before made, of the manly style
of thought, feeling and expression which had characterized
the older Spanish writers, from their having been persons
generally who had engaged in the active affairs of life, the
reader may perhaps feel interested in tracing how the same
causes have produced the same effects with their successors.
From the memoirs hereafter detailed, it may be seen that no
fewer than six out of the twelve had to suffer the evils of exile
for public or private opinions, of whom three so died unhappily
in foreign countries. Three others, though not actually
exiled, were subjected to long and cruel imprisonment for the
same causes, while two out of the remaining three had to take
their share of burdens in the public service during the troubled
state of the country. Such men could have no mawkish
sentiments to develope, and no fantastic feelings to indulge.
What they felt, they felt deeply; what they observed, they
observed distinctly, and thus were enabled to give their
thoughts and feelings clearly and strongly.</p>
<p>But in addition to the causes assigned for the superior
character of modern Spanish poetry in particular, there is
one other to be suggested, the association of which may perhaps
occasion some surprise, though it may not be for that
the less indubitable. This is the fact of the later Spanish
writers having, perhaps unconsciously, but unmistakenly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxiii" id="Page_xxiii">[xxiii]</a></span>
taken better models than their predecessors by preferring the
study of English literature to that of the French. This fact,
though without the full inference that might have been drawn
from it, has been observed by a German author, F. J. Wolf,
of the Imperial Library at Vienna, who has published a collection
of modern Spanish poetry, with biographical notices,
Paris, 1837, in two volumes—‘Floresta de Rimas Modernas
Castellanas.’ It is an interesting collection, but being all
given in the Spanish language, is only available to those who
are acquainted with it. In the introduction to this work, Wolf
treats of the “efforts of Melendez and the Salamanca school
to give a new splendour to Spanish poetry, partly by the
study and imitation of the ancient and good Spanish writers,
taking advantage of the national forms, and partly by making
it more profound and substantial, imitating not only and exclusively
the French, but also and especially the English.”
(Page 15.)</p>
<p>During the early part of the last century, consequent upon
the accession of the Bourbons to the throne, the writers of
verse in Spain, who obtained most favour among their contemporaries,
formed their style avowedly upon the model of
what was called the French school, and thus taking examples
unworthy of imitation, became still more wretched as copyists.
Towards the end of the century, however, a feeling arose, on
the other side, in favour of the study of English literature,
which has led to the happiest results. Of the twelve poets
whose lives and poems it is the purpose of this work to delineate,
no fewer than ten may be observed acquainted in no
inconsiderable degree with the best English authors and proficient
in the English language. Two only, Breton de los Herreros
and Zorrilla, seem not to have extended their studies so
far. With the peculiar humorous vein of the former, perhaps
the deficiency may not be considered as leaving any merit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxiv" id="Page_xxiv">[xxiv]</a></span>
to be supplied. But it does seem a matter of regret that a
person of Zorrilla’s exalted genius should have confined his
studies so much to French writers, and so have deprived himself
of the expansion necessary for the highest flights of poetry.
France has never produced a great painter or a great poet.
The very language, so monotonous and unmusical, in having
the accent almost invariably on the last syllable of the words,
seems opposed to rhythmical cadence, and not to admit of the
highest excellence either in oratory or poetry. Whatever may
be the cause, it is evident that such excellence has not been
attained in the language, and therefore the best works in it
cannot be models for imitation when they are only themselves
of an inferior value.</p>
<p>Beyond the writers enumerated hereafter, whose memoirs
and writings are to be considered worthy of fuller notice,
there are several others who, as especially coming under the
consideration above suggested, may here be noticed in further
corroboration of the statements we have made.</p>
<p>1. Juan de Escoiquiz, tutor to Ferdinand VII., one of the
most upright, if not most successful, public men of his time,
published, in 1798, an epic poem ‘On the Conquest of Mexico,’
which showed considerable poetical ability, though it did not
obtain much popular favour. In 1797 he published a translation
of Young’s ‘Night Thoughts,’ from the English into
Spanish verse, and in 1814 a translation of Milton’s ‘Paradise
Lost.’ Of the former, a translation in prose had been previously
published by Cristoval Caldera. Escoiquiz died in
1814.</p>
<p>2. Josè de Cadalso or Cadahalso, born 1741, was a person
of rank and fortune, who had travelled much in his youth,
and become proficient in various foreign languages and literatures,
especially the English. He wrote several works,
both in prose and verse, which were received with great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxv" id="Page_xxv">[xxv]</a></span>
favour at the time, and have been republished frequently
since his death. The last edition was in 1818, in three volumes,
under the editorship of the late learned Navarrete,
who appended to them an interesting biography of the author.
Among the miscellanies are several translations from
the English, which language, we are informed, Cadalso not
only studied himself assiduously, but induced Melendez
Valdes to adopt for peculiar study also. This eminent poet
was in early life so assisted by Cadalso as to have been pronounced
his “best work,” and he, as may be seen hereafter,
seems sedulously to have followed the good counsels and example
given him by his friend. Cadalso, like so many other
of the principal poets of Spain, had embraced a military
career, in which, having been ordered with his regiment to
the siege of Gibraltar, he there received a wound of which he
died a few days after, the 27th February, 1782. His death
was a great loss to Spanish literature, and it was equally
lamented by the English in the besieged fortress, by whom
he was much esteemed from previous friendly communications.</p>
<p>3. The Conde de Noronia, born 1760, died 1816, another
poetical writer of considerable reputation, was also engaged
in military service, in which he attained high rank, and with
the division of the Spanish army under his command, gained
the victory at the battle of San Payo over the French. He
was appointed ambassador successively at Berne and St. Petersburgh,
and was celebrated as a diplomatist for his knowledge
of English and other languages. Notwithstanding an
active life in the public service, he found leisure for literary
pursuits, and in 1800 published a collection of poems in two
volumes. Among these are to be observed several translations
from the English, of which one of Dryden’s celebrated
‘Ode for St. Cecilia’s Day,’ rendered into Spanish verse with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxvi" id="Page_xxvi">[xxvi]</a></span>
much spirit, deserves particular mention. The best of his
poems seems an ‘Ode on the Death of Cadalso,’ by whose side
he was present when he received his wound. The Conde
further attempted an epic, in twelve cantos, entitled ‘Ommiada,’
detailing the events in the reign of Abderaman, the
last of the Ommiades, which poem was published in two volumes
in 1816. For the purpose of assisting him in this
work, he had translated several pieces from the Arabic and
other eastern languages into Spanish verse, published since
at Paris in 1833.</p>
<p>4. Juan Maria Maury, who died in 1846, was another
writer of considerable talent. He was sent early in life to
France, and completed his education in England, becoming
thereby well acquainted with the language and literature of
both countries. His principal work is a poem entitled, ‘Esvero
y Almedora,’ in twelve cantos, published at Paris in 1840.
It is founded on the adventures of a passage-at-arms, held
against all comers, in 1434, at the bridge of Orbiza, near
Leon, and contains several interesting scenes spiritedly described.
His earliest work was a poem he called ‘British
Aggression,’ published in 1806, the sentiments of which he
seems afterwards to have considerably modified. Maury appears
to have been a person of very amiable character, and
much esteemed by all who knew him, judging by the manner
in which Del Rio and others write respecting him. In his
latter years he resided almost entirely at Paris, and gained
for himself the extraordinary merit of being esteemed also a
correct writer of French verse, by his translations of the principal
Spanish poets into that language. This work, published
in two volumes at Paris in 1826, entitled, ‘Espagne Poétique,
Choix de Poésies Castellanes depuis Charles Quint jusqu’à
nos jours,’ is, as the name imports, a selection of Spanish
poetry with critical and biographical notices, made with much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxvii" id="Page_xxvii">[xxvii]</a></span>
taste and judgement, and forming altogether a very interesting
work for the French student of Spanish literature. It is
dedicated to his friends Arriaza and Quintana, in a poetical
epistle, from which the following extract may be considered
acceptable in corroboration of the previous remarks:—</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">“Sans doute, Emmanuel, aux champs de Tamise</div>
<div class="verse">Triomphe une vertu qu’ailleurs tu crus permise,</div>
<div class="verse">Et qui là fier génie a ravi le trident.</div>
<div class="verse">Jeune j’y respirai l’orgueil indépendant;</div>
<div class="verse">Là, j’admirai l’accord, merveille alors unique,</div>
<div class="verse">Qui règle et garantit, sur le sol britannique</div>
<div class="verse">Au trône ses splendeurs, aux grands l’autorité,</div>
<div class="verse">Aux citoyens leurs droits, qu’on nomma liberté,</div>
<div class="verse">Et le temps destructeur y consacre, y conserve</div>
<div class="verse">Le plus beau monument élevé par Minerve.”</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>5. Josè Joaquin Mora, born at Cadiz, 1783, and yet happily
surviving, is another modern poet of great merit. When
the French invaded Spain, he entered a regiment of dragoons
in the national cause, and was made prisoner in 1809, in consequence
of which he was detained in France six years. He
took advantage of this residence in that country to pursue his
studies, and on the return of peace he undertook the editorship
of the ‘Scientific and Literary Chronicle of Madrid,’
which, in 1820, he converted into ‘The Constitutional.’ In
1823 he had to emigrate to London, where he wrote and
published several periodical and other works, under the
auspices of Messrs. Ackerman, besides various translations.
He afterwards went to Buenos Ayres, Chili and Bolivia, from
which last republic he returned to London as Consul-General,
and published, in 1840, his principal work, entitled ‘Spanish
Legends.’ This work, which is highly praised by Ochoa, gives,
as the title imports, descriptive accounts of various events in
the history of Spain, according to what seems to be the
favourite formula of modern Spanish poetry. Another work
he published, in 1826, entitled ‘Poetical Meditations,’ is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxviii" id="Page_xxviii">[xxviii]</a></span>
founded principally on Blair’s celebrated poem, ‘The Grave.’
Wolf pronounces him excelling in his satirical essays, which,
he says, are full of grace and ease.</p>
<p>In addition to the writers mentioned above, and those
whose works form the main purpose of this work hereafter in
detail, many others have appeared, both during the latter
part of the last century and during the present, who have
shown much talent, and have been deservedly received with
much favour by their countrymen. It will be sufficient for
us here to give the names of Cienfuegos, Tapia, Lista, Gallego,
S. Bermudez de Castro, Garcia Gutierrez and Pastor
Diaz among them; and to meet any observation that may be
suggested on account of no fuller notice being taken of them,
it may be allowed me to state, that I have notwithstanding
read and examined carefully all their works, and those of
many others whose names it is needless to recapitulate. I
would further add, that in so doing, although there was certainly
much in them to admire, yet there was nothing in
them, in my judgement, suited for translation to interest
English readers, whose tastes it was my duty principally to
consult. Some of those just mentioned and others omitted, I
have personally known and appreciated in private life, but in
all the selections and criticisms made or repeated, I have
allowed no consideration to weigh with me, except the respect
due to superior merit alone. So much of this superior merit
seemed to me to exist in modern Spanish literature, that I
ventured to think the English public would receive favourably
this attempt to make them acquainted with it. If it
should fail, the blame must attach to the translator; if it be
received favourably, there is yet a rich mine of intellectual
wealth in store to reward the labours of those who choose to
undertake it.</p>
<p>The student who wishes to follow in the same course, will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxix" id="Page_xxix">[xxix]</a></span>
find the way much prepared for him in the various collections
of ancient and modern poetry lately published. Those by
Maury and Wolf have been already mentioned. Quintana
has, in the late edition of his great work, brought down the
series of national poets to the beginning of this century; and
Ochoa has, lastly, given a very valuable addition to his other
labours of criticisms and compilation, in his Notices for a
Library of contemporary Spanish writers;—‘Apuntes para
una Biblioteca de Escritores Españoles contemporaneos,’ in
two volumes, Paris, 1847. Ferrer del Rio has also conferred
a great service on the national literature, by giving a
series of biographical sketches, ably written, of the principal
Spanish writers of the present day, ‘Galeria de la Literatura
Española,’ published by Mellado, at Madrid, 1846. From
these works, when no other authority is mentioned as of
distinct character, the notices in this work have been compiled,
except in a few instances, which will be found also
generally stated when they have been obtained from private
information. The facts, of necessity, could not but be learned
from such sources, and the translator is only answerable for
the selection of those he thought worthy of being repeated,
and the arrangement, in addition to the criticisms that coincided
with his own judgement, for his adoption.</p>
<p>In conclusion of these introductory remarks, it now only
remains necessary further to observe, that the rules of Spanish
versification are very similar to the English, being dependent
upon accents, according to the rhythm adopted on certain
syllables of each line, whether alternately or further removed.
The rule as to rhyme is also the same, admitting of single
or double rhymes, used in one case or the other, according as
the accent is on the last syllable of the final word or the penultimate.
The latter, however, is more common in Spanish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxx" id="Page_xxx">[xxx]</a></span>
than in English, where it seems only suited for the livelier
strains of verse.</p>
<p>But in addition to the usual method of using rhymes, dependent
in English and most other languages upon the consonants
rather than the vowels, the Spaniards have a form of
verse of which the rhyme is dependent on the vowel only,
and the consonants may be entirely dissimilar. This form of
verse they call Asonantes, in contradistinction to the other,
which they call Consonantes, or full and perfect rhyme. Thus
in the first stanza of the ‘Alcazar of Seville,’ the words <i lang="es">prolijas</i>
and <i lang="es">cornisas</i> are Consonantes or full rhymes, but in the
following verses <i lang="es">miran</i> and <i lang="es">distintas</i> are Asonantes, as also
<i lang="es">risa</i> and <i lang="es">evitan</i>. The Spaniards conceive the Asonantes to
be a form peculiar to themselves, but it is one common to
many other nations, in the earlier stages of poetical composition.
In the earliest Spanish poems, asonants and consonants
were used together promiscuously, as may be observed
particularly in the early poems in the Galician dialect; and
it is curious to trace in this respect, as well as in many
of their words, vestiges of their Celtic descent, this same
form being also one of the prominent features of Celtic versification.
In their modern asonante verse, the Spanish poets
usually exclude consonantes, and that form continues in
much favour, probably on account of the words in their language,
as in the Latin, having generally so much the same
sound as to make a variation pleasing to the ear, to break the
monotonous effect of a too frequent recurrence of similar terminations.
For this reason, no doubt, it was that the Latin
poets did not adopt the system of rhymes, and for the same
also it is common now in Spanish poems to have lines occasionally
to which no other line presents a rhyme, giving
thereby a pleasing effect to the whole. In our language, on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxi" id="Page_xxxi">[xxxi]</a></span>
the contrary, where, from the ruggedness of its character, the
terminations vary so exceedingly as to make them often even
difficult to be found for the purposes of rhyme, the recurrence
of rhyme gives a more pleasing sound to the ear from the
degree of surprise that is thus occasioned. In Spanish they
might easily be made of one vowel termination for a long
poem, so that the difficulty in it is to avoid the too frequent
recurrence of the same sound.</p>
<p>Martinez de la Rosa has boasted of the variety of rhymes
in Spanish; but he refers to double as well as single rhymes,
and in this and in other respects is carried away by his
ardour, in admiration of his country’s language, much further
than the facts will be found to support him. Thus he also
praises the number and variety of metres used in it as extraordinary,
when in fact they are no more, so than any other
neighbouring language could present. It may be justly conceded,
that poetry has been cultivated lately in Spain with
much assiduity and success; but there is no peculiarity in the
language to give it an advantage over others in respect to
metres. The strict censorship which has weighed down the
energies of the country, with regard to most subjects of public
discussion, has had the effect of directing talent to the cultivation
of poetry, as almost the only road to literary reputation.
This it is, combined with the sensitive character of the nation,
that has made their poets attain the eminence we are
bound in justice to award them; and it is fortunate for them
that they have in their language so admirable an exponent of
their genius, as it must in fairness be allowed, though the
merit still remains peculiarly their own.</p>
<p>The following is a summary list of the principal Modern
Spanish Poets whose memoirs and writings it is the object
of this work more particularly to make known to the English
public, given with a statement of dates respecting their lives,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxii" id="Page_xxxii">[xxxii]</a></span>
for the purpose of enabling the reader to compare more
easily the periods in which they flourished. They are, it will
be observed, twelve in number, and the list has been divided
into two parts, as marking an evidently distinctive character
of the poetry in the former and latter part of the epoch which
they have rendered memorable.</p>
<table summary="The poets in this book, their dates">
<tr>
<td class="top-pad" colspan="6">PART I.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">I.</td>
<td>Jovellanos</td>
<td>Born 1744.</td>
<td>Died</td>
<td>1811.</td>
<td>Age 67.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">II.</td>
<td>Iriarte</td>
<td>Born 1750.</td>
<td>Died</td>
<td>1791.</td>
<td>Age 41.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">III.</td>
<td>Melendez Valdes</td>
<td>Born 1754.</td>
<td>Died</td>
<td>1817.</td>
<td>Age 63.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">IV.</td>
<td>Leandro Moratin</td>
<td>Born 1760.</td>
<td>Died</td>
<td>1828.</td>
<td>Age 68.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">V.</td>
<td>Arriaza</td>
<td>Born 1770.</td>
<td>Died</td>
<td>1837.</td>
<td>Age 67.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VI.</td>
<td>Quintana</td>
<td>Born 1772.</td>
<td>Living</td>
<td>1851.</td>
<td>Age 79.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="top-pad" colspan="6">PART II.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VII.</td>
<td>Martinez de la Rosa</td>
<td>Born 1789.</td>
<td>Living</td>
<td>1851.</td>
<td>Age 62.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VIII.</td>
<td>The Duke de Rivas</td>
<td>Born 1791.</td>
<td>Living</td>
<td>1851.</td>
<td>Age 60.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">IX.</td>
<td>Breton de los Herreros</td>
<td>Born 1796.</td>
<td>Living</td>
<td>1851.</td>
<td>Age 55.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">X.</td>
<td>Heredia</td>
<td>Born 1803.</td>
<td>Died</td>
<td>1839.</td>
<td>Age 35.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XI.</td>
<td>Espronceda</td>
<td>Born 1810.</td>
<td>Died</td>
<td>1842.</td>
<td>Age 32.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XII.</td>
<td>Zorrilla</td>
<td>Born 1817.</td>
<td>Living</td>
<td>1851.</td>
<td>Age 34.</td>
</tr>
</table>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxiii" id="Page_xxxiii">[xxxiii]</a></span></p>
<h2>PRELIMINARY NOTE.</h2>
<p>For readers unacquainted with the Spanish language, it may be
perhaps most advisable, in this place, to affix a few short instructions
for the proper pronunciation of such names and words as are
to be found in the following pages.</p>
<p>1. The vowels in Spanish have each invariably their peculiar
sound; not as in English, where each has two or more sounds,
making them in fact so distinct as strictly requiring to be designated
by different characters, or after the manner of the Hebrew
points. Thus <i>a</i> has always the broad open sound found in the
English words <i>arm</i>, <i>arrack</i>.</p>
<p><i>e</i>, long or short, as in the English words <i>ere</i>, <i>ever</i>.</p>
<p><i>i</i> and <i>y</i>, as in <i>machine</i>, <i>syntax</i>.</p>
<p><i>o</i>, long or short, as in <i>ore</i>, <i>host</i>, <i>hostage</i>.</p>
<p><i>u</i> has uniformly the sound of <i>oo</i> in <i>food</i>. The Celtic sound of
this vowel, preserved in France and Portugal, is unknown in Spain,
and also in the Basque or Biscayan language.</p>
<p>2. Of the consonants, <i>b</i> has a softer sound than in English, and
approaches to <i>v</i>, which again is made to sound like <i>b</i>. Thus the
city of the Havana is, in Spanish spelling, La Habana, and the
river Bidasoa is written Vidasoa.</p>
<p><i>c</i>, before <i>a</i>, <i>o</i>, <i>u</i>, is to be pronounced hard, as in English; before
<i>e</i> or <i>i</i>, it is to be sounded like <i>th</i> in <i>thin</i>, though in the provinces<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxiv" id="Page_xxxiv">[xxxiv]</a></span>
this pronunciation is giving way to the French and English mode
of sounding the letter. Thus the name of the great Roman orator
is pronounced Thithero. <i>ch</i> has always the soft sound it usually
has in English, as in <i>chat</i>, <i>check</i>, <i>chin</i>, <i>choke</i>, <i>chum</i>.</p>
<p><i>d</i>, at the end of a word, is generally pronounced like <i>th</i>: thus
Madrid is Madrith; <i lang="es">ciudad</i>, a city, is pronounced <i>thiudath</i>; otherwise,
both <i>d</i> and <i>t</i> are spoken as in English, or slightly more dentally.</p>
<p><i>f</i> has the same sound as in English.</p>
<p><i>g</i> is an aspirate, like our <i>h</i>, more or less guttural, according to
the word. The soft sound of this letter, as in <i>gem</i>, left by the
Celts in Italy and Portugal, is unknown in Spain, as is also the
soft sound of the letter <i>j</i>.</p>
<p><i>h</i> may be said to be invariably a silent letter, and seems only
used to prevent two vowels running into each other, so as to form
a diphthong.</p>
<p><i>j</i> is a very harsh guttural, like the Hebrew <i>Cheth</i>. Thus Juan
(John) is to be pronounced strongly, Hwan; Josè (Joseph) also
strongly, Hosè.</p>
<p>The letters <i>k</i>, <i>l</i>, <i>m</i>, <i>n</i>, <i>p</i>, are the same as in English.</p>
<p><i>q</i> or <i>qu</i> has the sound of our <i>k</i>: thus <i lang="es">que</i> (that) is the same as
the Italian <i lang="it">che</i>.</p>
<p><i>r</i>, <i>s</i>, <i>t</i> have the same sounds as in English, except that the first
has one somewhat rougher, especially when two come together.</p>
<p><i>x</i> is a strong guttural, for which <i>j</i> is now generally used, as
Don Quijote.</p>
<p><i>z</i> is pronounced as <i>th</i>: thus Cadiz is sounded Cadith.</p>
<p>The Spaniards consider their <i>ll</i> and <i>ñ</i>, or <i>n</i> with a circumflex,
distinct letters, but they are in fact only the letters <i>l</i> or <i>n</i> with
the sound of <i>i</i> after them, as in the English words <i>million</i>, <i>minion</i>,
being the same sound that the French and Italians express by
<i>gn</i>, or <i>gl</i>. Several names may be found in the body of this work<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxv" id="Page_xxxv">[xxxv]</a></span>
altered according to our mode of spelling, though in the headings
retained as in the original, as Padillia instead of Padilla. For the
sake of preserving the sound free from constant explanation or
confusion, the like course has been sometimes adopted with regard
to other words, as, for instance, the name of the river Genil or
Xenil, represented in English as Henil.</p>
<p>Two or more vowels coming together are enunciated so as to
form one syllable generally in Spanish, and especially in poetry,
yet nevertheless so as to allow of each vowel to be sounded distinctly,
as each syllable is also.</p>
<p>With regard to accents, the general rule is, that it should be
placed on the penultimate syllable. There are many exceptions,
but in print these are always marked by the accent (´) on the
vowel indicated, except in words of two syllables, which, if ending
in a consonant, have generally the accent on the last syllable, if
ending in a vowel, on the first, without being notified.</p>
<p>From these notices it may be observed, that the Spanish language
is remarkable for two sounds, the guttural and the predominating
<i>th</i>, which distinguish it from the two sister dialects of
Italy and Portugal, while it is deficient in the soft sound of <i>g</i> and
<i>j</i>, found so frequently used in the latter. These two assimilate
so much to each other that natives of either country understand
those of the other readily, while they cannot those of Spain, showing
that the influence of the Gothic and Moorish invaders was impressed
there on the pronunciation of the common language, though
it was not extended to altering materially the language itself.</p>
<p>Besides the soft sound of the <i>g</i>, there are two other sounds unknown
in Spanish, though common in Portugal and France, left
by their former Celtic inhabitants, those of the <i>sh</i> or French <i>j</i>,
and the disagreeable nasal pronunciation of the letter <i>n</i>. The latter
is very slightly given in <i lang="es">Don</i>, and a few other words, but the
other is unknown. In Portuguese it is so prevalent that they
even use it for Latin words which it would be difficult to recognize
at first as the originals from which the others were derived; thus
the words <i lang="la">pluvia</i>, <i lang="la">plorare</i>, transformed in Spanish into <i lang="es">lluvia</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxvi" id="Page_xxxvi">[xxxvi]</a></span>
<i lang="es">lorar</i>, are in Portuguese further transformed into <i lang="pt">chuva</i> (<i lang="pt">shuva</i>),
<i lang="pt">chorar</i> (<i lang="pt">shorar</i>). The natives of Galicia speak a dialect more
allied to Portuguese than the Spanish, being of more decided
Celtic descent, like the Portuguese, than the rest of the people of
the Peninsula. The natives of Catalonia speak a dialect half
French, half Spanish, which may be considered the representative
of the ancient Provencal or Limoisin. It is very guttural as well
as nasal. The Basque or Biscayan language is entirely distinct
from the modern Spanish, and also from the Latin, the Celtic, or
that of any neighbouring country, and is well deserving of study.
It has no harsh or disagreeable sounds in it, and abounds in
vowels, many words having not a single consonant in them.</p>
<hr />
<h2>ERRATA.</h2>
<table summary="Errata">
<tr>
<td>Page</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_xxii">xxii</a></td>
<td>line</td>
<td class="tdr">30,</td>
<td><i>instead of</i></td>
<td>association, <i>read</i> assertion.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">—</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_11">11</a>,</td>
<td class="tdc">—</td>
<td class="tdr">18,</td>
<td class="tdc">——</td>
<td>“make it a well,” <i>read</i> “use it for a well.”</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">—</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_60">60</a>,</td>
<td class="tdc">—</td>
<td class="tdr">7,</td>
<td class="tdc">——</td>
<td>suffice <i>read</i> suffices.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">—</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_66">66</a>,</td>
<td class="tdc">—</td>
<td class="tdr">11,</td>
<td class="tdc">——</td>
<td>sensibly <i>read</i> sensitively.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">—</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_157">157</a>,</td>
<td class="tdc">—</td>
<td class="tdr">23,</td>
<td class="tdc">——</td>
<td>sage <i>read</i> shade.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">—</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_271">271</a>,</td>
<td class="tdc">—</td>
<td class="tdr">29,</td>
<td class="tdc">——</td>
<td>nineteen <i>read</i> eighteen.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">—</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_301">301</a>,</td>
<td class="tdc">—</td>
<td class="tdr">12,</td>
<td class="tdc">——</td>
<td>“of Lord Byron’s,” <i>read</i> “in Lord Byron’s.”</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p><a href="#Page_145">Page 145</a>, line 4, “has been announced,” &c. This statement is erroneous,
the reference having been made to Mr. J. Russell’s Life of Gonzalo de Còrdova,
translated from Quintana’s first volume, London, 1851.</p>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxvii" id="Page_xxxvii">[xxxvii]</a></span></p>
<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
<table summary="Contents">
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tdr smaller">Page</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><span class="smcap">Dedication</span></td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_iii">iii</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><span class="smcap">Introduction.</span> On the character of Spanish Poetry, Ancient
and Modern.—Causes affecting it suggested from considerations
of Roman civilization, Moorish wars, and personal
history of the principal Poets.—Works on Spanish literature:
Remarks on translation and language.—References to
other modern Poets.—Spanish metres and versification</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_vii">vii</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><span class="smcap">Preliminary Note.</span> On the pronunciation of Spanish names and words</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_xxxiii">xxxiii</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2" class="top-pad"><a href="#PART_I">PART I.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2"><a href="#I">I. GASPAR MELCHOR DE JOVELLANOS.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad2">Memoir of</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Epistle to Cean Bermudez, on the Vain Desires and Studies of Men</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">To Galatea’s Bird</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">To Enarda.—I.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxviii" id="Page_xxxviii">[xxxviii]</a></span>To Enarda.—II.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2"><a href="#II">II. TOMAS DE IRIARTE.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad2">Memoir of</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Epistle to Don Domingo de Iriarte, on his Travelling to various Foreign Courts</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">The Bear, the Monkey and the Hog</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">The Ass and the Flute</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">The Two Rabbits</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">The Lamb and his Two Advisers</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">The Flint and the Steel</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_59">59</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2"><a href="#III">III. JUAN MELENDEZ VALDES.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad2">Memoir of</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Juvenilities</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">The Timid Lover</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">My Village Life</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Remembrances of Youth</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Of the Sciences</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">The Disdainful Shepherdess</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_90">90</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2"><a href="#IV">IV. LEANDRO FERNANDEZ MORATIN.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad2">Memoir of</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Dedication of the Mogigata to the Prince of the Peace</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_106">106</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Epistle to Don Gaspar de Jovellanos, sent from Rome</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2"><a href="#V">V. JUAN BAUTISTA DE ARRIAZA.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad2">Memoir of</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Tempest and War, or the Battle of Trafalgar</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">The Parting</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2"><a href="#VI">VI. MANUEL JOSÈ QUINTANA.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad2">Memoir of</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_141">141</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">To the Spanish Expedition for the Promotion of Vaccination in America, under Don Francisco Balmis</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_152">152</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxix" id="Page_xxxix">[xxxix]</a></span>On the Battle of Trafalgar</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_158">158</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2" class="top-pad"><a href="#PART_II">PART II.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2"><a href="#VII">VII. FRANCISCO MARTINEZ DE LA ROSA.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad2">Memoir of</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Remembrance of Spain, written in London in 1811</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Return to Granada, October 27, 1831</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Epistle to the Duque de Frias, on the Death of the Duquesa</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_190">190</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Anacreontic</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_199">199</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Bacchanalian</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_200">200</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2"><a href="#VIII">VIII. ANGEL DE SAAVEDRA, DUKE DE RIVAS.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad2">Memoir of</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_203">203</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">The Alcazar of Seville</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_224">224</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2"><a href="#IX">IX. MANUEL BRETON DE LOS HERREROS.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad2">Memoir of</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_249">249</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Satirical Letrillias.—III.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_258">258</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Satirical Letrillias.—IV.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_260">260</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Satirical Letrillias.—VII.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_262">262</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2"><a href="#X">X. JOSÈ MARIA HEREDIA.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad2">Memoir of</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_265">265</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Sonnet. Dedication of the Second Edition of his Poems, to his Wife</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_275">275</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">To his Horse</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_276">276</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">The Season of the Northers</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_277">277</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Poesy, an Ode</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_280">280</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Ode to Night</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_285">285</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xl" id="Page_xl">[xl]</a></span><a href="#XI">XI. JOSÈ DE ESPRONCEDA.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad2">Memoir of</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_291">291</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">To Spain, an Elegy. London, 1829</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_305">305</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">The Condemned to Die</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_308">308</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">The Song of the Pirate</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_314">314</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">To Harifa, in an Orgy</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_318">318</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2"><a href="#XII">XII. JOSÈ ZORRILLA.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad2">Memoir of</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_323">323</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">The Christian Lady and the Moor</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_336">336</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Romance, The Waking</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_339">339</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Oriental Romance, Boabdil</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_343">343</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">The Captive</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_345">345</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">The Tower of Munion</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_347">347</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">The Warning</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_350">350</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="pad1">Meditation</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_352">352</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><a href="#NOTES">NOTES</a></td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_357">357</a></td>
</tr>
</table>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p>
<h1>MODERN POETS<br />
<span class="smaller">AND</span><br />
POETRY OF SPAIN.</h1>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p>
<h2 id="PART_I">PART I.</h2>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="I">I.<br />
<span class="smaller"><a href="#note1" title="See note">GASPAR MELCHOR DE JOVELLANOS</a>.</span></h3>
<p><a href="#note2" title="See note">An able and distinguished writer</a> in the Madrid Review
has observed, that if the question were asked as to which is
the first great name in modern Spanish literature, the answer
must unquestionably be—Jovellanos. It seems, therefore, only
a just deference to his merits, though it is but a fortuitous
coincidence in the order of dates, that we have to place his
name first in the series of modern Spanish poets. It is,
however, to his State Papers and his writings on Political
Economy that he principally owes his reputation; though it
is a proud consideration for Spanish literature, that, as regards
him, as well as Martinez de la Rosa and the Duke de
Rivas, she has to place the names of eminent statesmen
among her principal poets.</p>
<p>Jovellanos was born the 5th of January, 1744, at Gijon, a
town in the Asturias, of which his father was Regidor or
one of the chief Magistrates. His family connections were
of the class called Nobles, answering to the Noblesse of
France, and were moreover very influential and sufficiently
wealthy. To take advantage of the preferments these offe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>red
him, he was destined in early youth, being a younger son, for
the church, in which he entered into the first orders for the
purpose of holding several benefices that were given him.
He studied consecutively at Oviedo, Avila and Osma, where
he distinguished himself so much to the satisfaction of those
interested in his fortunes, that he was removed, in 1764, to
the University of Alcalà de Henares, and shortly afterwards
to Madrid to study law. His friends and relatives, having
become aware of his great talents, had now induced him to
abandon the clerical profession and engage in secular pursuits.
A person of his rank in those days was not at liberty
to practise as an advocate, though the young Noble, under
court favour, might administer the law; and thus he was, in
1767, when only in his twenty-fourth year, appointed judge
of criminal cases at Seville. In this office he conducted himself
with great ability and humanity, appearing to have been
the first to abandon the employment of torture for obtaining
confessions, which system has scarcely yet been discarded on
the Continent. As characteristic of him, it may here be
added, that he is reported to have been the first of the higher
magistrates in Spain who gave up the use of the official wig;
so that his unusual dress, combined with his youth, made
him on the bench more observed than perhaps even his talents
would at first have rendered him.</p>
<p>Whatever objections might have been made, if cause could
be found, he seems, after having served nearly ten years as
judge in the criminal courts, to have been advanced, with the
approbation of all parties, to the office of judge in civil cases,
also at Seville. This was an office much more agreeable to
his inclinations, though the salary was no higher than what
he had previously enjoyed. He had, however, other duties
also entrusted to him of minor character, though of proportionate
emolument, and thereupon he resigned his benefices<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>
in the church, which he had held till then, and to the duties
of which he had strictly attended. Beyond this act of disinterestedness,
he seems to have given his brother magistrates
no inconsiderable inquietude at the same time by refusing
some emoluments of office to which they considered themselves
entitled. But their minds were soon relieved from the
apprehensions his conduct might occasion them, as at the end
of four years he was, in 1778, appointed judge of criminal
cases at Madrid; an office generally considered of eminent
promotion, but which he accepted with regret.</p>
<p>In after times, every letter and every notice of Jovellanos
that could be found was eagerly sought and treasured up;
and from these and his own memorandums, it appears
he had good reason to consider the years he passed at
Seville as the happiest of his life. Honoured in his public
capacity and beloved in his social circle, he passed whatever
time he could spare from his official or private duties in literary
pursuits. It was then he wrote or prepared most of the
lighter works which entitle him to be ranked among the poets
of the age; the tragedy of “Pelayo,” and comedy of “The
Honourable Delinquent,” both which were highly esteemed
by his countrymen, as well as most of his minor poems. He
did not however confine himself to such recreations, but at
the same time entered on graver studies for the public service,
on which his fame was eventually established.</p>
<p>Shortly after Jovellanos joined the courts at Seville, he had
for one of his colleagues Don Luis Ignacio Aguirre, a person
of high literary attainments, who had travelled much, and
brought with him, as stated by Bermudez, many works in
English on Political Economy. To understand these, Jovellanos
immediately, under Aguirre’s guidance, proceeded to
learn the English language, of which he soon obtained a
competent knowledge. He then studied the science, t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>hen
newly dawning, from the works his friend afforded him, and
made himself a master of it, so as to give him a name among
the most eminent of its professors. Not contented with
these pursuits, his active mind was still further engaged in
whatever could tend to the benefit of society in the place of
his labours. He seems indeed to have always had before
him the consideration of what might be the fullest duties
his station imposed on him, beyond the mere routine of
official services. Not confining himself to these, much less
giving himself up to passive enjoyments, however harmless
or honourable in themselves, he seemed then and through
life as ever acting under the sense of a great responsibility,
as of the requirements of Him “who gave his servants
authority, and to every man his work.” Thus he instituted
a school at Seville for children, reformed the course of practice
at the hospitals, attended to the keeping of the public
walks and grounds in good order, and was foremost in every
case where charity called or good services were required.
Artists and men of genius found in him a friend, who, by
advice and other aid, was always ready to their call; and it
was observed that his only passion was for the purchase of
books and pictures, of which respectively he formed good
collections.</p>
<p>On giving up his duties at Seville, Jovellanos travelled
through Andalusia, and, as was his custom in all the places
he visited, made notes of whatever useful information he
could obtain respecting them, many of which were afterwards
published in a topographical work he assisted in bringing
forward. On arriving at Madrid, where his fame had preceded
him, he was at once chosen member of the different
learned societies, to several of which he rendered valuable
services. At Seville he had already prepared a sketch of his
great work, entitled “Agrarian Law,” in which he treated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>
of the law and tenure of land, its cultivation, and other topics
connected with it. This work he then published in an extended
form, in which it has been reprinted several times,
separately as well as in his collected works. In the several
societies he also read many papers, one of which, “On Public
Diversions,” deserves to be named particularly, as containing
much curious information, as well as many excellent suggestions
for public advantage, on points which statesmen would
do well to remember more frequently than they are in the
habit of doing.</p>
<p>On leaving Seville, Jovellanos regretted that he had to
engage again in criminal cases, for which he had a natural
aversion. After fulfilling these duties at Madrid a year and
a half, he therefore sought another appointment, and obtained
one in the Council of Military Orders, more agreeable to his
inclinations. In this office it was his duty to attend to the
affairs of the four military orders of Spain, and in his visits
to their properties and other places on their behalf, he was
entrusted with various commissions, which he fulfilled with
his accustomed zeal. In those visits he had to go much to
his native province, and he took advantage of his influence to
make roads, which were much needed there, and the benefits
of which he lived to see appreciated. He incited the members
of the Patriotic Society of Oviedo, and others connected
with the Asturias, to explore the mineral wealth of the country,
rich in mines of coal and iron, then scarcely known. For
the study of such pursuits he founded the Asturian Institute,
and raised subscriptions to have two young men educated
abroad in mathematics and mining, who were afterwards to
teach those sciences at the Institute. Every day of his life
indeed seems to have been employed on some object of public
utility, or in studies connected with such objects; following
the ancient maxim to do nothing trifling or imperfectly:—Μ<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>ηδὲν
ἐνέργημα εἰκῆ, μηδὲν ἄλλως ἢ κατὰ θεωρήμα συμπληρωτικὸν
τῆς τέχνης ἐνεργεῖθω.</p>
<p>Though exact in the fulfilment of his official duties, and
other various commissions entrusted to him by the government
to report on the state of the provinces, it is wonderful
to consider the industry with which he followed other pursuits.
He studied botany and architecture, on which he wrote
several treatises; and though each of those subjects would have
been a sufficient task for ordinary men, to him they were only
relaxations from his favourite science of political economy.</p>
<p>Bent on the promotion of law and other reforms in the
state, he became connected with the Conde de Cabarrus, who,
though a Frenchman by birth, had obtained high employments
in Spain, and who, as a person of superior talent and discernment,
was also convinced of the necessity of such measures.
As too often is the case with able and honest statesmen, the
Conde de Cabarrus fell, while attempting to effect these reforms,
under the intrigues of his enemies, and Jovellanos became
involved in his disgrace. He had been sent, in 1790,
into the provinces in fulfilment of the duties of his office;
when, having heard on the road of his friend’s ill fortune, he
returned at once to offer him whatever assistance he might
have in his power. He had, however, no sooner arrived in
Madrid, where the Conde was under arrest, than, without
being allowed to communicate with him, Jovellanos received a
royal order to return immediately to his province.</p>
<p>The terms in which this order was conveyed convinced
Jovellanos that he was to share in the disgrace of his friend,
and to consider himself banished from court. He therefore
proceeded philosophically to settle himself in his paternal
abode with his brother, their father being now deceased, with
his books and effects, and engaged in the improvement of
their family estates. His expectations proved correct, as in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>
this honourable exile he had to pass seven years, though not
altogether unemployed, as he had several commissions entrusted
to him similar to those he had previously discharged.
But still Jovellanos, unbowed by political reverses, continued
the same ardent promoter of public improvement. For the
Asturian Institute, which he had founded for the purpose of
teaching principally mineralogy and metallurgy, and which
he personally superintended, he wrote his very able work on
Public Instruction, and compiled elementary grammars of
the French and English languages, in which he showed himself
proficient to a degree truly astonishing.</p>
<p>In his official duties, having to go carefully in inspection
over the Asturias and other neighbouring provinces, he noted
his observations in diaries, which have been fortunately preserved,
and which contain much valuable information. In
these he has gathered all he could learn relative to the productions
of the provinces, and the state in which he found
them and the people, as embodied in his reports thereon to
the government, with an account of the ancient remains and
public buildings, making copies of whatever he found most
interesting in the archives of the several convents, cathedrals
and corporations. Some of these copies now possess a peculiar
value, from the damages that have since accrued to many of
the originals from time and the events of the subsequent wars.</p>
<p>If it were not for the disparagement of being considered in
banishment, Jovellanos could have felt himself contented.
He had not only honourable employment, as before stated,
but he also received several notices of approbation from the
government, especially as regarded the Institute, to which
notices he perhaps paid a higher regard than they deserved.
He seems himself to have felt this; for in one of his letters he
writes—“I will not deny that I desire some public mark of
appreciation by the government, to gain by it that kind of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>
sanction which merit needs in the opinion of some weak
minds. But I see that this is a vain suggestion, and that
posterity will not judge me by my titles, but by my works.”</p>
<p>This was written on a rumour having reached Gijon of the
probability of his being soon restored to favour at court.
Those under whose intrigues he had fallen had now passed
away in their turn: a favourite of a more powerful grade was
in the ascendant, Godoy, the Prince of the Peace, to whose
mind had been suggested the advisability of gathering round
him persons of acknowledged probity and knowledge, for the
support of his government. Jovellanos had returned home,
in October 1797, from one of his journeys of inspection, when
he found the whole town in a state of rejoicing. On inquiring
the cause, he was told it was because news had been received
of his nomination as ambassador to Russia. A few days
afterwards the rejoicings were renewed, on the further intelligence
of his being nominated a member of the government
itself, as Minister of Grace and Justice.</p>
<p>In this office it might have been hoped that a happier
career was before him; but evil fortune on the contrary now
followed him, and more fatally than ever. His former banishment
from court was owing to the endeavours he had made
to remove those abuses into which all human institutions
have a tendency to fall, rendering frequently necessary a correction
of those abuses, to preserve what was most valuable
in the institutions themselves. His next misfortune arose
from personal differences with the reigning favourite, whose
greater influence it was his error not to have perceived.
Jovellanos had been restored to favour at the instance of
Godoy; but as this was without his seeking, he felt himself
under no obligation to maintain him as the head of the government,
for which he was totally unfit. Jovellanos joined
in an opposition to him, which for a short time succeeded in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>
depriving Godoy of office. But his influence at court continued,
and thus Jovellanos was in his turn dismissed, after
holding the office of minister only about eight months, and
ordered to return to Gijon.</p>
<p>Unhappily the favourite carried his resentment further;
and Jovellanos was, on the 13th of March, 1801, arrested in
his bed at an early hour of the morning, and sent as a prisoner
through the country to Barcelona, thence to Mallorca,
where first in the Carthusian convent, and afterwards in the
castle of Bellver more strictly, he was closely confined, without
any regard paid to his demands to know the accusation
against him. Here his health was severely affected, as well
as his feelings outraged, by the unjust treatment to which he
was subjected. Still he was not one to sink under such evils.
He was rather one of those “who, going through the valley
of misery, make it a well.” He turned accordingly to the
resources of literature, and employed himself in writing and
translating from Latin and French several valuable treatises
on architecture, and other works, on the history of the island,
and of the convent, besides several poems, among which the
Epistle to <a href="#note3" title="See note">Bermudez, his biographer</a>, deserves particular notice.</p>
<p>Another work he then wrote is no less deserving of mention,
showing the attention he had paid to English affairs,
entitled “A Letter on English Architecture, and that called
Gothic,” in which he treated of English architecture from
the time of the Druids, dividing it into the Saxon, Gothic
and modern periods. He describes the buildings according
to the epochs, especially St. Paul’s and others of the seventeenth
century, coming down to the picturesque style of
gardening then adopted in England, with notices of the
different sculptors, painters and engravers, as well as architects,
and also of the authors who had written on the Fine
Arts in England. This work has not been published, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>
Bermudez states he had the manuscript.</p>
<p>After being seven years a prisoner, Jovellanos was in 1808
released on the abdication of Charles IV. and the consequent
fall of Godoy. This release was announced to him in terms
of official brevity, and he replied by an earnest demand to be
subjected to a trial, for the purpose of having the cause of
his imprisonment made manifest. Before, however, an answer
could be returned, Ferdinand had, under Napoleon’s dictation,
also ceased to reign, and Jovellanos was called upon to
take a prominent place in the intrusive government of king
Joseph. This he could not be supposed from his antecedent
character to be willing to accept. On the contrary, being
chosen by the National party a member of the Central Junta,
he engaged with his accustomed energy on the other side
until the Regency was formed, principally under his influence,
to carry on the struggles for independence.</p>
<p>On this being effected, Jovellanos wished to retire to his
native city apart from public affairs. At his advanced age,
with cataracts formed in his eyes, and after his laborious life
and painful imprisonment, rest was necessary for him; but
he could not attain it. One of his first efforts in the Central
Junta was to draw up a paper on the form of government to
be adopted, and this he strongly recommended to be founded
as nearly as possible on the model of the English constitution.
But he was far too enlightened for the race of men
with whom he had to act, and his prepossessions for English
institutions were made a reproach against him, observes the
editor of the last edition of his works, even by those who
were striving to introduce the principles of the Constituent
Assembly into Spain.</p>
<p>The miserable intrigues and jealousies of the leading members
of the National party caused Jovellanos much anxiety.
But he had fulfilled his duties as a Deputy, and those having<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
ceased, he left Cadiz in February, 1810, to return to the
Asturias, in a small sailing vessel. After a long and dangerous
passage, during which they were in great danger of
shipwreck, they arrived at Muros in Galicia, in which province
he had to remain more than a year, in consequence of
the Asturias being in the possession of the French, to whom
he had now become doubly obnoxious.</p>
<p>In July, 1811, however, the French having left that part
of Spain, Jovellanos was enabled to return to his native city,
where he was again received as he always had been with
every token of popular respect. He seems to have been
always looked upon there with undeviating favour and gratitude,
as their most honourable citizen and public benefactor.
No one knew of his coming, says his biographer, but he was
observed to enter the church, and kneel before the altar near
his family burying-place, when the whole town was roused
simultaneously, and a spontaneous illumination of the houses
took place, with other tokens of public congratulations and
rejoicing.</p>
<p>Here he now hoped to have a peaceful asylum for his latter
years, engaged in the objects of public utility for which he
had formerly laboured. But those labours were to be begun
again. His favourite “Asturian Institute,” which he truly
said, in one of his discourses, was identified with his existence,
had been totally dismantled and used for barracks by the
French. Having obtained authority from the Regency to
do so, he began to put the building again into repair, and
collect together the teachers and scholars. Having done
this, he announced by circulars that it would be reopened
the 20th of November following, when the news of the
French returning compelled him again to fly on the 6th of
that month. He set sail in a miserable coasting vessel for
Ribadeo, where a ship was ready to take him to Cadiz or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>
England as he might desire, in virtue of instructions given
by the Regency, and in accordance with the English government.
But further misfortunes only awaited him. The vessel
in which he had to take refuge was cast on shore in a storm
near the small port of Vega, on the confines of Asturias; and
there, worn out with fatigue, and under a pulmonary affection,
brought on by exposure to the weather, he died the 27th of
November, 1811, a few days after his landing.</p>
<p>The news of his death was spread rapidly through Spain,
notwithstanding the interrupted state of communications,
and was everywhere received with regret as a national calamity.
Those who had opposed his views did justice to the
uprightness of his motives and character; and the Cortes,
now assembled, passed a decree, by which in favour of his
patriotism and public services, he was declared Benemerito
de la Patria. This beautiful and classical acknowledgement
of his worth was then also remarkable as a novelty, though
it has been since rendered less honourable, by being awarded
to others little deserving of peculiar distinction.</p>
<p>The life of Jovellanos, as intimately connected with the
history of his country, is well deserving of extended study.
But our province is rather to consider him as a poet. Eminent
as a statesman for unimpeachable integrity and for wise
administration of justice, he carried prudent reforms into
every department under his control, in which, though subjected
to many attacks, he proved himself, by a memoir
published shortly before his death, in justification of his
public conduct, to have been fully warranted. This memoir,
for heartfelt eloquence, deserves to be ranked with Burke’s
Letter to the Duke of Bedford. Jovellanos has been compared
by his countrymen to Cicero. A writer in the Foreign
Quarterly Review has instituted an ingenious parallel between
him and Montesquieu. With either, or with Burke, he <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>may
be observed to have possessed the philosophy and feeling,
which give eloquence its chief value and effect.</p>
<p>As a prose writer, Jovellanos, for elegance of style and
depth of thought, may be pronounced without a rival in
Spanish literature. As a dramatist, he only gave the public
a tragedy and comedy, both of which continue in much
favour with the public. The latter, “The Honourable Delinquent”
is particularly esteemed; but it is a melodrame
rather than a comedy, according to our conceptions. It turns
on the principal character having been forced into fighting a
duel, and who, having killed his opponent, is sentenced to
die; but after the usual suspenses receives a pardon from the
king. There are several interesting scenes and much good
writing in the piece; but no particular delineation of character,
to bring it any more than the other into the higher
class of dramatic art. It has, however, been observed, that
it only needs to have been written in verse to make it a perfect
performance, and this alone shows the hold it must have
on the Spanish reader.</p>
<p>As a poet, Jovellanos is chiefly to be commemorated for
his Satires. Two of these, in which he lashes the vices and
follies of society at Madrid,—“girt with the silent crimes of
capitals,”—are pronounced by the critic in the Madrid Review
to be “highly finished” compositions. They were, in fact,
the only poems he himself published, and those anonymously.
With the strength of Juvenal, they have also his faults, and
abound too much in local allusions to be suited for translation.
In somewhat the same style were several epistles he
addressed to different friends, of which the one written to
his friend and biographer Bermudez has been chosen for
this work, as most characteristic of the author. Like his
other Satires, it is written in blank verse; which style, though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
not entirely unknown in Spain, he had the <a href="#note4" title="See note">merit of first
bringing into favour</a>. He probably gained his predilection
for it from his study of Milton, for whose works he had
great admiration, and of whose Paradise Lost he translated
the first book into Spanish verse.</p>
<p>The Epistle to Bermudez is remarkable as written with
much earnestness, in censure not only of the common vices
and follies of mankind, but in also going beyond ordinary
satirists into the sphere of the moralist, to censure the faults
of the learned. What our great modern preacher Dr. Chalmers
has termed the “practical atheism” of the learned, was
indeed the subject of rebuke from many English writers, as
Young and Cowper, but may be looked for in vain in the
works of others. Jovellanos had no doubt read the former,
at least in the translation of his friend Escoiquiz, and meditated
on the sentiment,—“An undevout astronomer is mad,”
even if not in the original. It can scarcely be supposed that
he was so well acquainted with English literature as to have
read Cowper; but there are several passages in his Epistles
of similar sentiments. The praise of wisdom especially, in
the one to Bermudez,—by which we may understand, was
meant the wisdom urged by the kingly preacher of Jerusalem,
or the rule of conduct founded on right principles, in
opposition to mere learning,—is also that of our Christian
poet:—</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Knowledge and wisdom, far from being one,</div>
<div class="verse">Have ofttimes no connexion. Knowledge dwells</div>
<div class="verse">In heads replete with thoughts of other men;</div>
<div class="verse">Wisdom in minds attentive to their own.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>In his hours of leisure, Jovellanos employed himself in
composing occasional verses at times, for the amusement of
the society in which he lived, without thinking of their being
ever sought for publication. These, however, have been lately
gathered together with much industry and exactness in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>
last edition of his collected works, published by Mellado at
Madrid in five volumes, 1845. As the last and fullest, it is
also the best collection of them, four other editions of them
previously published having been comparatively very deficient
with regard to them. Besides those, there were various reprints
of several others of his works, which were all received
with much favour, both in Spain and abroad.</p>
<p>Jovellanos was never married, and in private life seems to
have considered himself under the obligations of the profession
for which he was originally intended. His character
altogether is one to which it would be difficult to find a
parallel, and is an honour to Spain as well as to Spanish
literature. His virtues are now unreservedly admitted by all
parties of his countrymen, who scarcely ever name him except
with the epithet of the illustrious Jovellanos, to which designation
he is indeed justly entitled, no less for his writings,
than for his many public and private virtues and services to
his country. These may be forgotten in the claims of other
generations and succeeding statesmen; but his writings must
ever remain to carry his memory wherever genius and worth
can be duly appreciated.</p>
<p>The charge of writing a memoir of Jovellanos was entrusted
by the Historical Society of Madrid to Cean Bermudez,
who fulfilled it with affectionate zeal, Madrid, 1814; several
other notices of his life have appeared in Spain, including
that by Quintana, which has been copied by Wolf. The
English reader will find an excellent one in the Foreign
Quarterly Review, No. 10, February, 1830; and the Spanish
scholar a further very eloquent encomium on his talents and
merits in Quintana’s second Introduction to his collection of
Spanish Poetry.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p>
<h3>JOVELLANOS.</h3>
<h4><a href="#note5" title="See note">EPISTLE TO CEAN BERMUDEZ</a>,
ON THE VAIN DESIRES AND STUDIES OF MEN.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Arise, Bermudo, bid thy soul beware:</div>
<div class="verse">Thee raging Fortune watches to ensnare;</div>
<div class="verse">And, lulling others’ hopes in dreams supine,</div>
<div class="verse">A fell assault she meditates on thine.</div>
<div class="verse">The cruel blow which suffer’d from her rage</div>
<div class="verse">Thy poor estate will not her wrath assuage,</div>
<div class="verse">Till from thy breast her fury may depose</div>
<div class="verse">The blissful calm to innocence it owes.</div>
<div class="verse">Such is her nature, that she loathes the sight</div>
<div class="verse">Of happiness for man in her despite.</div>
<div class="verse">Thus to thine eyes insidious she presents</div>
<div class="verse">The phantasies of good, with which she paints</div>
<div class="verse">The road to favour, and would fain employ</div>
<div class="verse">Her arts thy holds of virtue to destroy.</div>
<div class="verse">Ah! heed her not. See her to rob thee stand</div>
<div class="verse">Ev’n of the happiness now in thy hand.</div>
<div class="verse">’Tis not of her; she cannot it bestow:</div>
<div class="verse">She makes men fortunate;—but happy? No.</div>
<div class="verse">Thou think’st it strange! Dost thou the names confound</div>
<div class="verse">Of Fortune with felicity as bound?</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Like the poor idiots, who so foolish gaze</div>
<div class="verse">On the vain gifts and joys which she displays,</div>
<div class="verse">So cunning to exchange for real good.</div>
<div class="verse">O cheat of human wisdom! say withstood,</div>
<div class="verse">What does she promise, but what beings born</div>
<div class="verse">To our high destiny should hold in scorn?</div>
<div class="verse">In reason’s balance her best offers weigh,</div>
<div class="verse">And see what worthless lightness they betray.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">There are who, burning in the track of fame,</div>
<div class="verse">Wear themselves ruthless for a sounding name.</div>
<div class="verse">Buy it with blood, and fire, and ruin wide;</div>
<div class="verse">And if with horrid arm is death descried,</div>
<div class="verse">Waving his pennon as from some high tower,</div>
<div class="verse">Their hearts swell proud, and trampling fierce they scour</div>
<div class="verse">The field o’er brothers’ bodies as of foes!</div>
<div class="verse">Then sing a triumph, while in secret flows</div>
<div class="verse">The tear they shed as from an anguish’d heart.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Less lofty, but more cunning on his part,</div>
<div class="verse">Another sighs for ill-secure command:</div>
<div class="verse">With flatteries solicitously plann’d,</div>
<div class="verse">Follows the air of favour, and his pride</div>
<div class="verse">In adulation vile he serves to hide,</div>
<div class="verse">To exalt himself; and if he gain his end</div>
<div class="verse">His brow on all beneath will haughty bend;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
<div class="verse">And sleep, and joy, and inward peace, the price</div>
<div class="verse">To splendour of command, will sacrifice:</div>
<div class="verse">Yet fears the while, uncertain in his joy,</div>
<div class="verse">Lest should some turn of Fortune’s wheel destroy</div>
<div class="verse">His power in deep oblivion overthrown.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Another seeks, with equal ardour shown,</div>
<div class="verse">For lands, and gold in store. Ah! lands and gold,</div>
<div class="verse">With tears how water’d, gain’d with toils untold!</div>
<div class="verse">His thirst unquench’d, he hoards, invests, acquires;</div>
<div class="verse">But with his wealth increased are his desires;</div>
<div class="verse">And so much more he gains, for more will long:</div>
<div class="verse">Thus, key in hand, his coffers full among;</div>
<div class="verse">Yet poor he thinks himself, and learns to know</div>
<div class="verse">His state is poor, because he thinks it so.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Another like illusion his to roam</div>
<div class="verse">From wife and friends, who flying light and home,</div>
<div class="verse">To dedicate his vigils the long night</div>
<div class="verse">In secret haunts of play makes his delight,</div>
<div class="verse">With vile companions. Betwixt hope and fear</div>
<div class="verse">His anxious breast is fluctuating drear.</div>
<div class="verse">See, with a throbbing heart and trembling hand,</div>
<div class="verse">There he has placed his fortune, all to stand</div>
<div class="verse">Upon the turning of a die! ’Tis done:</div>
<div class="verse">The lot is cast; what is it? has he won?</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Increased is his anxiety and care!</div>
<div class="verse">But if reverse, O Heaven! in deep despair,</div>
<div class="verse">O’erwhelm’d in ruin, he is doom’d to know</div>
<div class="verse">A life of infamy, or death of woe.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">And is he happier, who distracted lies</div>
<div class="verse">A slave beneath the light of beauty’s eyes?</div>
<div class="verse">Who fascinated watches, haunts, and prays,</div>
<div class="verse">And at the cost of troubles vast essays,</div>
<div class="verse">’Mid doubts and fears, a fleeting joy to gain?</div>
<div class="verse">Love leads him not: his breast could ne’er profane</div>
<div class="verse">Admit Love’s purer flame; ’tis passion’s fire</div>
<div class="verse">Alone that draws him, and in wild desire</div>
<div class="verse">He blindly headlong follows in pursuit:</div>
<div class="verse">And what for all his toils can he compute?</div>
<div class="verse">If gain’d at length, he only finds the prize</div>
<div class="verse">Bring death and misery ev’n in pleasure’s guise.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Then look on him, abandon’d all to sloth,</div>
<div class="verse">Who vacant sees the hours pass long and loth</div>
<div class="verse">O’er his so useless life. He thinks them slow,</div>
<div class="verse">Alas! and wishes they would faster go.</div>
<div class="verse">He knows not how to employ them; in and out</div>
<div class="verse">He comes, and goes, and smokes, and strolls about,</div>
<div class="verse">To gossip; turns, returns, with constant stress</div>
<div class="verse">Wearying himself to fly from weariness.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>
<div class="verse">But now retired, sleep half his life employs,</div>
<div class="verse">And fain would all the day, whose light annoys.</div>
<div class="verse">Fool! wouldst thou know the sweetness of repose?</div>
<div class="verse">Seek it in work. The soul fastidious grows</div>
<div class="verse">Ever in sloth, self-gnawing and oppress’d,</div>
<div class="verse">And finds its torment even in its rest.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">But if to Bacchus and to Ceres given,</div>
<div class="verse">Before his table laid, from morn to even,</div>
<div class="verse">At ease he fills himself, as held in stall:</div>
<div class="verse">See him his stomach make his god, his all!</div>
<div class="verse">Nor earth nor sea suffice his appetite;</div>
<div class="verse">Ill-tongued and gluttonous the like unite:</div>
<div class="verse">With such he passes his vain days along,</div>
<div class="verse">In drunken routs obscene, with toast and song,</div>
<div class="verse">And jests and dissolute delights; his aim</div>
<div class="verse">To gorge unmeasured, riot without shame.</div>
<div class="verse">But soon with these begins to blunt and lose</div>
<div class="verse">Stomach and appetite: he finds refuse</div>
<div class="verse">Offended Nature, as insipid food,</div>
<div class="verse">The savours others delicacies view’d.</div>
<div class="verse">Vainly from either India he seeks</div>
<div class="verse">For stimulants; in vain from art bespeaks</div>
<div class="verse">Fresh sauces, which his palate will reject;</div>
<div class="verse">His longings heighten’d, but life’s vigour wreck’d;</div>
<div class="verse">And thus worn out in mid career the cost,</div>
<div class="verse">Before life ends he finds his senses lost.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">O bitter pleasures! O, what madness sore</div>
<div class="verse">Is theirs who covet them, and such implore</div>
<div class="verse">Humbly before a lying deity!</div>
<div class="verse">How the perfidious goddess to agree</div>
<div class="verse">But mocks them! Though perhaps at first she smile,</div>
<div class="verse">Exempt from pain and misery the long while</div>
<div class="verse">She never leaves them, and in place of joy</div>
<div class="verse">Gives what they ask, with weariness to cloy.</div>
<div class="verse">If trusted, soon is found experience taught</div>
<div class="verse">What ill-foreseen condition they have sought.</div>
<div class="verse">Niggard their wishes ever to fulfil,</div>
<div class="verse">Fickle in favour, vacillating still,</div>
<div class="verse">Inconstant, cruel, she afflicts today,</div>
<div class="verse">And casts down headlong to distress a prey,</div>
<div class="verse">Whom yesterday she flatter’d to upraise:</div>
<div class="verse">And now another from the mire she sways</div>
<div class="verse">Exalted to the clouds; but raised in vain,</div>
<div class="verse">With louder noise to cast him down again.</div>
<div class="verse">Seest thou not there a countless multitude,</div>
<div class="verse">Thronging her temple round, and oft renew’d,</div>
<div class="verse">Seeking admittance, and to offer fraught</div>
<div class="verse">With horrid incense, for their idol brought?</div>
<div class="verse">Fly from her; let not the contagion find</div>
<div class="verse">The base example enter in thy mind.</div>
<div class="verse">Fly, and in virtue thy asylum seek</div>
<div class="verse">To make thee happy: trust the words I speak.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
<div class="verse">There is no purer happiness to gain</div>
<div class="verse">Than the sweet calm the just from her attain.</div>
<div class="verse">If in prosperity their fortunes glide,</div>
<div class="verse">She makes them free from arrogance and pride;</div>
<div class="verse">In mid estate be tranquil and content;</div>
<div class="verse">In adverse be resign’d whate’er the event:</div>
<div class="verse">Implacable, if Envy’s hurricane</div>
<div class="verse">O’erwhelm them in misfortunes, even then</div>
<div class="verse">She hastes to save them, and its rage control;</div>
<div class="verse">With lofty fortitude the nobler soul</div>
<div class="verse">Enduing faithful; and if raised to sight,</div>
<div class="verse">At length they find the just reward requite,</div>
<div class="verse">Say is there aught to hope for prize so great</div>
<div class="verse">As the immortal crown for which they wait?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">But is this feeling then, I hear thee cry,</div>
<div class="verse">That elevates my soul to virtue high,</div>
<div class="verse">This anxious wish to investigate and know,</div>
<div class="verse">Is it blameworthy as those passions low?</div>
<div class="verse">Why not to that for happiness repair?</div>
<div class="verse">Wilt thou condemn it? No, who would so dare,</div>
<div class="verse">That right would learn his origin and end?</div>
<div class="verse">Knowledge and Virtue, sisters like, descend</div>
<div class="verse">From heaven to perfect man in nobleness;</div>
<div class="verse">And far removing him, Bermudo, yes!</div>
<div class="verse">From vice and error, they will make him free,</div>
<div class="verse">Approaching even to the Deity.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
<div class="verse">But seek them not, in that false path to go</div>
<div class="verse">Which cunning Fortune will to others show.</div>
<div class="verse">Where then? to Wisdom’s temple only haste;</div>
<div class="verse">There thou wilt find them. Her invoke; and traced,</div>
<div class="verse">See how she smiles! press forward; learn to use</div>
<div class="verse">The intercession of the kindly Muse</div>
<div class="verse">To make her be propitious. But beware,</div>
<div class="verse">That in her favour thou escape the snare,</div>
<div class="verse">The worship, which the vain adorer pays.</div>
<div class="verse">She never him propitiously surveys,</div>
<div class="verse">Who insolently seeking wealth or fame,</div>
<div class="verse">Burns impure incense on her altar’s flame.</div>
<div class="verse">Dost thou not see how many turn aside</div>
<div class="verse">From her of learning void, but full of pride?</div>
<div class="verse">Alas for him, who seeking truth, for aid</div>
<div class="verse">Embraces only a delusive shade!</div>
<div class="verse">In self conceit who venturing to confide,</div>
<div class="verse">Nor virtue gain’d, nor reason for his guide,</div>
<div class="verse">Leaves the right path, precipitate to stray</div>
<div class="verse">Where error’s glittering phantoms lead the way!</div>
<div class="verse">Can then the wise hope happiness to feel</div>
<div class="verse">In the chimæras sought with so much zeal?</div>
<div class="verse">Ah, no! they all are vanities and cheats!</div>
<div class="verse">See him, whom anxious still the morning greets,</div>
<div class="verse">Measuring the heavens, and of the stars that fly</div>
<div class="verse">The shining orbits! With a sleepless eye,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Hasty the night he reckons, and complains</div>
<div class="verse">Of the day’s light his labour that detains;</div>
<div class="verse">Again admires night’s wonders, but reflects</div>
<div class="verse">Ne’er on the hand that fashion’d and directs.</div>
<div class="verse">Beyond the moons of Uranus he bends</div>
<div class="verse">His gaze; beyond the Ship, the Bear, ascends:</div>
<div class="verse">But after all this, nothing more feels he:</div>
<div class="verse">He measures, calculates, but does not see</div>
<div class="verse">The heavens obeying their great Author’s will,</div>
<div class="verse">Whirling around all silent; robbing still</div>
<div class="verse">The hours from life, ungratefully so gone,</div>
<div class="verse">Till one to undeceive him soon draws on.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Another, careless of the stars, descries</div>
<div class="verse">The humble dust, to scan and analyse.</div>
<div class="verse">His microscope he grasps, and sets, and falls</div>
<div class="verse">On some poor atom; and a triumph calls,</div>
<div class="verse">If should the fool the magic instrument</div>
<div class="verse">Of life or motion slightest sign present,</div>
<div class="verse">Its form to notice, in the glass to pore,</div>
<div class="verse">What his deluded fancy saw before;</div>
<div class="verse">Yields to the cheat, and gives to matter base</div>
<div class="verse">The power, forgot the Lord of all to trace.</div>
<div class="verse">Thus raves the ingrate.</div>
<div class="indent14">Another the meanwhile</div>
<div class="verse">To scrutinize pretends, in learning’s style,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
<div class="verse">The innate essence of the soul sublime.</div>
<div class="verse">How he dissects it, regulates in time!</div>
<div class="verse">As if it were a subtile fluid, known</div>
<div class="verse">To him its action, functions, strength and tone;</div>
<div class="verse">But his own weakness shows in this alone.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">’Twas given to man to view the heavens on high,</div>
<div class="verse">But not in them the mysteries of the sky;</div>
<div class="verse">Yet boldly dares his reason penetrate</div>
<div class="verse">The darksome chaos, o’er it to dilate.</div>
<div class="verse">With staggering step, thus scorning heavenly light,</div>
<div class="verse">In error’s paths he wanders, lost in night.</div>
<div class="verse">Confused, but not made wise, he pores about,</div>
<div class="verse">Betwixt opinion wavering and doubt.</div>
<div class="verse">Seeking for light, and shadows doom’d to feel,</div>
<div class="verse">He ponders, studies, labours to unseal</div>
<div class="verse">The secret, and at length finds his advance;</div>
<div class="verse">The more he learns, how great his ignorance.</div>
<div class="verse">Of matter, form, or motion, or the soul,</div>
<div class="verse">Or moments that away incessant roll,</div>
<div class="verse">Or the unfathomable sea of space,</div>
<div class="verse">Without a sky, without a shore to trace,</div>
<div class="verse">Nothing he reaches, nothing comprehends,</div>
<div class="verse">Nor finds its origin, nor where it tends;</div>
<div class="verse">But only sinking, all absorb’d may see</div>
<div class="verse">In the abysses of eternity.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Perhaps, thence stepping more disorder’d yet,</div>
<div class="verse">He rushes his presumptuous flight to set</div>
<div class="verse">Ev’n to the throne of God! with his dim eyes</div>
<div class="verse">The Great Inscrutable to scrutinize;</div>
<div class="verse">Sounding the gulf immense, that circles round</div>
<div class="verse">The Deity, he ventures o’er its bound.</div>
<div class="verse">What can he gain in such a pathless course</div>
<div class="verse">But endless doubts, his ignorance the source?</div>
<div class="verse">He seeks, proposes, argues, thinking vain.</div>
<div class="verse">The ignorance that knew to raise, must fain</div>
<div class="verse">Be able to resolve them. Hast thou seen</div>
<div class="verse">Attempts that e’er have more audacious been?</div>
<div class="verse">What! shall an atom such as he excel</div>
<div class="verse">To comprehend the Incomprehensible?</div>
<div class="verse">Without more light than reason him assign’d,</div>
<div class="verse">The limits of immensity to find?</div>
<div class="verse">Infinity’s beginning, middle, end?</div>
<div class="verse">Dost Thou, Eternal Lord, then condescend</div>
<div class="verse">To admit man to Thy councils, or to be</div>
<div class="verse">With his poor reason in Thy sanctuary?</div>
<div class="verse">A task so great as this dost Thou confide</div>
<div class="verse">To his weak soul? ’Tis not so, be relied,</div>
<div class="verse">My friend. To know God in His works above,</div>
<div class="verse">To adore Him, melt in gratitude and love;</div>
<div class="verse">The blessings o’er thee lavish’d to confess,</div>
<div class="verse">To sing His glory, and His name to bless;—</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Such be thy study, duty and employ;</div>
<div class="verse">And of thy life and reason such the joy.</div>
<div class="verse">Such is the course that should the wise essay,</div>
<div class="verse">While only fools will from it turn away.</div>
<div class="verse">Wouldst thou attain it? easy the emprise;</div>
<div class="verse">Perfect thy being, and thou wilt be wise:</div>
<div class="verse">Inform thy reason, that its aid impart</div>
<div class="verse">Thee truth eternal: purify thy heart,</div>
<div class="verse">To love and follow it: thy study make</div>
<div class="verse">Thyself, but seek thy Maker’s light to take:</div>
<div class="verse">There is high Wisdom’s fountain found alone:</div>
<div class="verse">There thou thy origin wilt find thee shown;</div>
<div class="verse">There in His glorious work to find the place</div>
<div class="verse">’Tis thine to occupy: there thou mayst trace</div>
<div class="verse">Thy lofty destiny, the crown declared</div>
<div class="verse">Of endless life, for virtue that’s prepared.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Bermudo, there ascend: there seek to find</div>
<div class="verse">That truth and virtue in the heavenly mind,</div>
<div class="verse">Which from His love and wisdom ever flow.</div>
<div class="verse">If elsewhere thou dost seek to find them, know,</div>
<div class="verse">That darkness only thou wilt have succeed,</div>
<div class="verse">In ignorance and error to mislead.</div>
<div class="verse">Thou of this love and wisdom mayst the rays</div>
<div class="verse">Discern in all His works, His power and praise</div>
<div class="verse">That tell around us, in the wondrous scale</div>
<div class="verse">Of high perfection which they all detail;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>
<div class="verse">The order which they follow in the laws,</div>
<div class="verse">That bind and keep them, and that show their cause,</div>
<div class="verse">The ends of love and pity in their frame:</div>
<div class="verse">These their Creator’s goodness all proclaim.</div>
<div class="verse">Be this thy learning, this thy glory’s view;</div>
<div class="verse">If virtuous, thou art wise and happy too.</div>
<div class="verse">Virtue and truth are one, and in them bound</div>
<div class="verse">Alone may ever happiness be found.</div>
<div class="verse">And they can only, with a conscience pure,</div>
<div class="verse">Give to thy soul to enjoy it, peace secure;</div>
<div class="verse">True liberty in moderate desires,</div>
<div class="verse">And joy in all to do thy work requires;</div>
<div class="verse">To do well in content, and calmly free:</div>
<div class="verse">All else is wind and misery, vanity.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h4><a href="#note6" title="See note">TO GALATEA’S BIRD.</a></h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O silly little bird! who now</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On Galatea’s lap hast got,</div>
<div class="verse">My unrequited love allow</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To envy thee thy lot.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Of the same lovely mistress both</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Alike the captives bound are we;</div>
<div class="verse">But thou for thy misfortune loth,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Whilst I am willingly.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thou restless in thy prison art,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Complaining ever of thy pains;</div>
<div class="verse">While I would kisses, on my part,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Ev’n lavish on my chains.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But, ah! how different treating us,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Has scornful Fate the lot assign’d!</div>
<div class="verse">With me she’s always tyrannous,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But with thee just as kind.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">A thousand nights of torment borne,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A thousand days of martyrdom,</div>
<div class="verse">By thousand toils and pains, her scorn</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I cannot overcome.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Inestimable happiness,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A mere caprice for thee has got;</div>
<div class="verse">So bathed in tears, in my distress,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I envy thee thy lot.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And there the while, with daring heel,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thou tread’st in arrant confidence,</div>
<div class="verse">Without a heart or hope to feel,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or instinct’s common sense.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">In the embraces, which my thought,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Not even in its boldest vein,</div>
<div class="verse">Could scarce to hope for have been brought,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Presumptuous to attain.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h4><a href="#note7" title="See note">TO ENARDA.—I.</a></h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Lovely Enarda! young and old</div>
<div class="verse indent1">All quarrel with me daily:</div>
<div class="verse">Because I write to thee they scold,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Perhaps sweet verses gaily.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“A judge should be more grave,” they say,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As each my song accuses;</div>
<div class="verse">“From such pursuits should turn away</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As trifling with the Muses.”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“How wofully you waste your time!”</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Preach others; but, all slighting,</div>
<div class="verse">The more they scold, the more I rhyme;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Still I must keep on writing.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Enarda’s heart and mind to praise,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">All others far excelling,</div>
<div class="verse">My rustic pipe its note shall raise,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In well-toned measures telling.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I wish, extolling to the skies,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Her beauty’s high perfection</div>
<div class="verse">To sing, and all her witcheries</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of feature and complexion:</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">With master pencil to portray</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her snowy neck and forehead,</div>
<div class="verse">And eyes that round so roguish play,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And lips like carmine florid.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And let the Catos go at will,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To where they most prefer it,</div>
<div class="verse">Who withering frowns and sneerings still</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Give me for my demerit.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">In spite of all, with wrinkled pate,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The censures each rehearses,</div>
<div class="verse">Enarda I will celebrate</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For ever in my verses.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h4><a href="#note8" title="See note">TO ENARDA.—II.</a></h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Cruel Enarda! all in vain,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In vain, thou view’st with joyful eyes</div>
<div class="verse">The tears that show my grief and pain,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thyself exulting in my sighs.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The burning tears that bathe my cheek,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">With watching shrunk, with sorrow pale,</div>
<div class="verse">Thy lightness and caprice bespeak,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thy guilt and perfidy bewail.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Those signs of sorrow, on my face,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Are not the obsequies portray’d</div>
<div class="verse">Of a lost good, nor yet the trace</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of tribute to thy beauties paid.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">They are the evidence alone</div>
<div class="verse indent1">There fix’d thy falsehood to proclaim;</div>
<div class="verse">Of thy deceits the horror shown,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of my delirium the shame.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I weep not now thy rigours o’er,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Nor feel regret, that lost to me</div>
<div class="verse">Are the returns, which false before</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thou gavest, or favours faithlessly.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I weep o’er my delusions blind;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I mourn the sacrifices made,</div>
<div class="verse">And incense to a god unkind</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On an unworthy altar laid.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I weep the memory o’er debased</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of my captivity to mourn,</div>
<div class="verse">And all the weight and shame disgraced</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of such vile fetters to have borne.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Ever to my lorn mind return’d</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Are thoughts of homage offer’d ill,</div>
<div class="verse">Disdains ill borne, affection spurn’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And sighs contemn’d, recurring still.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Then, ah, Enarda! all in vain</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thou think’st to please thee with my grief:</div>
<div class="verse">Love, who now looks on me again</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With eyes of pity and relief,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">A thousand times has me accost,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As thus my tears to censure now,</div>
<div class="verse">“To lose them thou hast nothing lost;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Poor creature! why then weepest thou?”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="II">II.<br />
<span class="smaller">TOMAS DE IRIARTE.</span></h3>
<p>Of all the modern Spanish poets, Iriarte seems to have obtained
for his writings the widest European reputation. He
was born the 18th September 1750, at Teneriffe in the Canary
Islands, where his family had been some time settled, though
the name shows it to have been of Basque origin. His uncle,
Juan de Iriarte, also a native of the same place, was one of the
most learned men of his age, and to him the subject of this
memoir was indebted for much of the knowledge he acquired,
and means of attaining the eminence in literature he succeeded
him in possessing. Juan de Iriarte had been partly
educated in France, and had afterwards resided some time in
England, so as to acquire a full knowledge of the language
and literature of those countries. He was also a proficient
in classical learning, and wrote Latin with great precision, as
his writings, published by his nephew after his death, evince;
Madrid, two volumes, 4to. 1774. Having been appointed
keeper of the Royal Library at Madrid, he enriched it with
many valuable works, in upwards of 2000 MSS. and 10,000
volumes. He was an active member of the Royal Spanish
Academy, and one of the principal assistants in compiling the
valuable dictionary and grammar published by that learned
Society, as well as other works.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p>
<p>At the instance of this uncle, Tomas Iriarte went to Madrid
in the beginning of 1764, when not yet fourteen years of
age, and under that relative’s able guidance completed his
studies, learning at the same time the English and other
modern languages. He was already far advanced in a knowledge
of classical literature, and it is stated that some Latin
verses he wrote, on leaving his native place, showed such
proficiency as to surprise his friends, and make them entertain
great expectations of his future success. Some of his
Latin compositions, published afterwards among his works,
prove him to have been a scholar of very considerable acquirements.
Classical literature does not seem in modern
times to be much studied in Spain, and Iriarte is the only
distinguished writer among the modern Spanish poets who
can be pointed out as conspicuous for such attainments.
Thus they have failed in apprehending one of the chief beauties
of modern poetry, so remarkable in Milton and Byron,
and our other great poets, who enrich their works with references
that remind us of what had most delighted us in
those of antiquity.</p>
<p>In 1771 his uncle died, and Tomas Iriarte, who had already
been acting for him in one of his offices as Interpreter to the
Government, was appointed to succeed him in it. He was
afterwards, in 1776, appointed Keeper of the Archives of the
Council of War; and these offices, with the charge of a paper
under the influence of the government, seem to have been
the only public employments he held. From one of his
epistles, however, he appears to have succeeded to his uncle’s
property, and thus to have had the means as also the leisure
to give much of his time to the indulgence of literary tastes.
He was very fond of paintings and of music, to which he
showed his predilection, not only by his ability to play on
several instruments, but also by writing a long didacti<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>c poem
on the art, entitled ‘Musica.’ This he seems to have considered
as giving him his principal claim to be ranked as a
poet, though the world preferred his other writings.</p>
<p>When yet under twenty years of age, Iriarte had already
appeared as a writer of plays, some of which met with considerable
approbation. Of these it will be sufficient for us
here to observe, that Moratin, the first great dramatic poet
of Spain in modern times, pronounced one of them, ‘The
Young Gentleman Pacified,’ to have been “the first original
comedy the Spanish theatre had seen written according to
the most essential rules dictated by philosophy and good
criticism.”</p>
<p>Besides several original plays, Iriarte translated others
from the French, from which language he also translated the
‘New Robinson’ of Campe, which passed through several editions.
From Virgil he translated into Spanish verse the first
four books of the Æneid, and from Horace the Epistle to the
Pisos. These, though censured by some of his contemporaries
so as to excite his anger, were altogether too superior
to those attacks to have required the vindication of them he
thought proper to publish. Horace seems to have been his
favourite author; but he had not learned from him his philosophical
equanimity, wherewith to pass over in silent endurance
the minor miseries of life. Thus he allowed himself,
throughout his short career, to be too much affected by those
ungenerous attacks, which mediocrity is so apt to make on
superior merit. The names of those censurers are now principally
remembered by his notices of their writings; an honour,
which men of genius, in their hours of irritation, too
often confer on unworthy opponents. Thus a large portion
of his collected works consists of these controversial notices,
which, as usual in such cases, only impair the favourable
effect produced by the remainder on the mind of the reader.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
Those works were first published in a collected form in six
volumes, in 1786; afterwards in eight volumes, in 1805.</p>
<p>From Iriarte’s poetical epistles, which are eleven in number,
he appears to have been a person of a very kindly disposition,
as Quintana describes him, living in friendly intercourse
with the principal literary characters of Spain, especially
with the amiable and ill-fated Cadahalso, to whom, in
one of those epistles, he dedicated his translations from Horace.
The others also are mainly on personal topics, and
display his character advantageously, though, as poetical
compositions, they have not been received so favourably as
some of his other works.</p>
<p>The fame of Iriarte may be said to rest on his literary
fables, which have attained a popularity, both at home and
abroad, equalled by few other works. They are eighty-two
in number, and all original, having, as their title indicates, a
special reference to literary questions, though they are also
all sufficiently pointed to bear on those of ordinary life. Like
Sir Joshua Reynolds’s Discourses on Painting, they convey
general instructions to all, while professing an application to
one particular pursuit. They are written with much vivacity
and ease, yet with an appropriate terseness that adds to their
effect. Martinez de la Rosa, equally eminent as a statesman,
a poet and a critic, observes of them, that if he had not left
compositions of any other class, they would have extended his
reputation as a poet; and adds, “that they abound in beauties,
though frequently wanting in poetical warmth, so as to recommend
this valuable collection, unique in its class, as one
of which Spanish literature has to be proud.”</p>
<p>Of these fables, first published in 1782, so many editions
have appeared, that it would be a very difficult task to enumerate
them. There is scarcely a provincial town in Spain,
of any consequence, in which they have not been reprinted.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>
Several editions have appeared in France, two in New York,
and three in Boston, where they have been used in teaching
Spanish. Several of the fables have been imitated by Florian,
and translations have been made into other languages. Of
these translations, one in French verse was published by M.
Lanos, Paris, 1801, and another, in prose, by M. L’Homandie,
ibid. 1804: into German they were translated by Bertuch,
Leipzic, so early as 1788, and into Portuguese, by Velladoli,
in 1801.</p>
<p>I am not aware of more than one edition of them in England,
that published by Dulau, 1809; but there have been
no fewer than three translations of them into English verse;
first by Mr. Belfour, London, 1804, another by Mr. Andrews,
ibid. 1835, and a third by Mr. Rockliff, ibid. 1851.</p>
<p>The same popularity attended another work which Iriarte
prepared for the instruction of youth, named ‘Historical
Lessons,’ published posthumously, about twenty editions of
which have since appeared, principally from its having been
adopted as a text-book for schools. Of this also an edition
has been published in London by Boosey, and a translation
into English. Iriarte’s industry appears to have been of the
most practical character, and his endeavours were as wisely
as they were unremittingly directed to make his countrymen
wiser and better in their future generations. If a man’s
worth may be estimated by such labours, few persons have
ever lived who were so entitled to the gratitude of posterity,
as few have ever effected so much as he did in the short career
that was afforded him.</p>
<p>In private life, in the leisure allowed from his studies and
duties, he indulged much, as has been already stated, in the
recreation of music; and in praise and explanation of that
favourite art he wrote his largest work, ‘Music,’ a didactic
poem, in five cantos. Of this work, which was first publis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>hed
in 1780, the fifth separate edition appeared in 1805, since
which I have not heard of any other. It has, however, had the
good fortune to be translated into several foreign languages;
into German by Bertuch, in 1789; into Italian by the Abbé
Garzia, Venice, 1789; into French by Grainville, Paris, 1800;
and into English by Mr. Belfour, London, 1807. The last-mentioned
translation is made with much exactness and elegance
into heroic verse; though, as the original had the fault
usual to all didactic poems of not rising to any high poetical
power, the translation must share the fault to at least an
equal extent.</p>
<p>In the Italian version, a letter is quoted from the celebrated
Metastasio, in which he speaks of the style of Iriarte’s
poem as “so harmonious, perspicuous and easy, as to unite
the precision of a treatise with the beauties common to
poetry.” It is said also that Metastasio further pronounced
the poem to be “not only excellent, but to be considered uncommon,
in having successfully treated a subject so difficult,
and apparently so little adapted to poetry.” It is to be observed
that Iriarte had warmly eulogized Metastasio in the
book, so as to merit the commendation. The first canto is confined
to treating the subject artistically, and will therefore
prove less to the taste of the general reader than the other
cantos, which are of a more interesting character, and may be
read with pleasure by persons who do not understand music
as a science. The third canto especially is written with much
spirit in its praise, as connected with devotion. The second
canto treats of the passions as they may be expressed by
music, including martial music. The fourth minutely discusses
theatrical music, with its excellences and defects.
The fifth explains it, as calculated for the amusement of
societies, or individuals in solitude. The poem concludes
with pointing out what ought to be the study of a good co<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>mposer,
and by a proposal for the establishment of an academy
of music, or scientific body of musicians, anticipating the
benefit to science that would result from such an institution.</p>
<p>This poem, the ‘Musica,’ and the Epistles, are written in a
very favourite style of versification in Spain, denominated the
Silva, which consists of lines of eleven syllables, varied occasionally
with others of seven, rhyming at the pleasure of the
writer. The ‘Literary Fables’ are written in various metres;
Martinez de la Rosa observes in upwards of forty different
kinds, appropriate to the characteristics of the subjects, which
may be more perceptible to a native ear than to a foreigner’s.
It is certainly true that this gives a variety to the work which
is well suited to the purposes the author had in view. He
was wise enough to know that truths hidden in the garb of
fiction will often be felt effectually, where grave precepts
would not avail,</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Καὶ τοῦ τι καὶ Βρότων φρενὰς</div>
<div class="verse">Ὑπὲρ τὸν ἀληθῆ λόγον,</div>
<div class="verse">Δεδαιδαλμένοι ψεύδεσι ποικίλοις</div>
<div class="verse">Ἐξαπάτωντι μύθοι,</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class="noindent">and thus conveyed his lessons in examples, with a moral, which
could be quickly understood and easily remembered.</p>
<p>With regard to the objection made to these fables, that
they are often deficient in poetical warmth or colouring, it
may be observed that the subjects would scarcely admit of
any. Iriarte was certainly a writer of more poetic taste than
talent, and it must be acknowledged that his genius, judging
by the works he left, was not one to soar to the higher flights
of poetry. He felt this himself, as he intimates in his Epistle
to his brother; and, choosing a subject like Music for a didactic
poem, or writing familiar epistles on occasional subjects,
did not give himself much scope for fancy, much less for
passion. But as applied to the fables, the objection was u<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>nnecessary.
If they deserved praise for their vivacity of style,
that very circumstance, independent of the subjects, rendered
them passionless, ἀπαθέστατα, as Longinus remarks, where
stronger feelings could scarcely be brought into connexion
with such discussions. The great difficulty in such cases
is, when metres are chosen to suit the subject, abounding in
pyrrhics, trochees, and such measures, as the same great
critic adds, to guard, lest the sense be lost in too much regard
to the sound, raising only attention to the rhythm, instead
of exciting any feeling in the minds of the hearers.</p>
<p>Of the five fables chosen for translation, the two first were
taken from Bouterwek, and the third on account of its having
been particularly noticed by Martinez de la Rosa. The
Epistle to his Brother was selected partly on account of its
notices of other countries, as a foreigner’s judgement of
them; and partly as being most characteristic of the writer,
showing his tastes and dispositions more perhaps than the
rest. The reader generally feels most interested in such
parts of the works of favourite writers, especially when their
private history gives the imagination a right to ask sympathy
for their sufferings.</p>
<p>Nothing is to be found in Iriarte’s works to show any
peculiar opinions on religion, though the tendency of his
mind is everywhere clearly seen, as leading to freedom of
thought, instead of subjection to dogmas. In his poem on
Music, as already intimated, some devotional rather than free-thinking
principles are developed; yet it is said that it was
from a suspicion of his being affected by the French philosophy
of the day he fell under the censure of the Inquisition,
and was seized in 1786, and imprisoned three years in the
dungeons of that institution. What was the particular offence
imputed to him has not been stated. It could be no question
of a political character, for he was in the employment of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>
government, and was amenable to it for any misdeeds. It
probably was from some private cause, under the cloak of a
question of faith, that he had to undergo this imprisonment,
during which it is said he had to submit to severe penances
before he could obtain his liberty. After he had obtained it,
he returned to his studies and wrote further, a monologue,
entitled ‘Guzman,’ and some Latin maccaronic verses on the
bad taste of some writers then in vogue. But his spirits
were no doubt broken down, as his health and strength
were undermined; and thus it was that he died two years
after, though his death was imputed to his sedentary habits
and gout, the 17th of September, 1791, when he had just
completed his forty-first year.</p>
<p>This untimely death was a serious loss to Spanish literature.
With his great and varied acquirements and unremitting
industry, the world might have expected still more
valuable works from him, when, at the age of thirty-six, in
the best period of a man’s existence for useful labours, he
was cast into that dungeon, from which he seems to have
been permitted to come out only to die. The last Auto da fe
in Spain was celebrated in 1781; but the Inquisition had
other victims whose sufferings were no less to be deplored,
though not made known. If Iriarte was one, he had unquestionably
the consciousness of being enabled to feel, though
not dying “an aged man,” yet that in his comparatively
short life, he had not lived in vain for his own good name,
and the benefit of posterity.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p>
<h3>TOMAS DE IRIARTE.</h3>
<h4><a href="#note9" title="See note">EPISTLE TO DON DOMINGO DE IRIARTE</a>,
ON HIS TRAVELLING TO VARIOUS FOREIGN COURTS.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">He who begins an instrument to play,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With some preludings, will examine well</div>
<div class="verse indent1">How run the fingers, how the notes will swell,</div>
<div class="verse">And bow prepares, or breath for his essay;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or if to write the careful penman’s aim,</div>
<div class="verse">He cuts and proves his pen, if broad or fine;</div>
<div class="verse">And the bold youths, to combat who incline,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Strike at the air, as trial of the game:</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The dancer points his steps with practised pace;</div>
<div class="verse">The orator harangues with studied grace;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The gamester packs his cards the livelong day;</div>
<div class="verse">I thus a Sonnet, though worth nothing, trace,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Solely to exercise myself this way,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">If prove the Muse propitious to my lay.</div>
<div class="verse">It seems to me, dear brother, that Apollo</div>
<div class="verse">A course divine now does not always follow,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Nor please to dictate verses of a tone,</div>
<div class="verse">Worthy a sponsor such as he to own;</div>
<div class="verse">But rather would be human, and prefer</div>
<div class="verse">To prose in rhymes of warmthless character;</div>
<div class="verse">Without the enthusiasm sublime of old,</div>
<div class="verse">And down the wings of Pegasus would fold,</div>
<div class="verse">Not to be borne in flight, but gently stroll’d.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">You who forgetful of this court now seek</div>
<div class="verse">Those of the east and north to contemplate,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Forgive me, if in envy I may speak,</div>
<div class="verse">That to indulge it has allow’d you fate</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The tasteful curiosity! to view</div>
<div class="verse">With joy the land, so famed and fortunate,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Which erst a Tully and a Maro knew,</div>
<div class="verse">To which Æmilius, Marius service paid,</div>
<div class="verse">Which Regulus and the Scipios obey’d.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Long would it be and idle to recall</div>
<div class="verse">The triumphs, with their blazonries unfurl’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Matchless of her, that once of Europe all</div>
<div class="verse">Was greater part, metropolis of the world.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I only ask of you, as you may read,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">How in Avernus, destined to succeed,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Anchises show’d Æneas, in long line,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The illustrious shades of those, who were to shine</div>
<div class="verse">One day the glory of the Italian shore,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Now you, more favour’d than the Trojan chief,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Not in vain prophecy, but tried belief,</div>
<div class="verse">From what you see, by aid of history’s lore,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To admire the lofty state which Rome possess’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The which her ruins and remains attest.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">From our Hispanian clime I cannot scan</div>
<div class="verse">With you the column of the Antonine,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The fane or obelisk of the Vatican,</div>
<div class="verse">Or the Capitol, and Mount Palatine;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I cannot see the churches, or the walls,</div>
<div class="verse">The bridges, arches, mausoleums, gates,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The aqueducts, palaces, and waterfalls,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The baths, the plazas, porticos, and halls,</div>
<div class="verse">The Coliseum’s, or the Circus’ fates;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But still the immortal writings ’tis for me,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of Livy, Tacitus, Cicero, to see;</div>
<div class="verse">I see Lucretius, Pliny, Juvenal,</div>
<div class="verse">Augustus, Maro and Mæcenas all;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With their names is the soul exalted high,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Heroic worth and honour to descry;</div>
<div class="verse">And so much more that model imitates</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A nation now, so much more to be gain’d,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Is seen it but to approach the lofty heights</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of splendour, wealth, fame, power, that Rome attain’d.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">From the benignant lands that richly gleam</div>
<div class="verse">Beneath the Tiber’s fertilizing stream,</div>
<div class="verse">You next will pass, where borne as he arose,</div>
<div class="verse">Through colder realms the mighty Danube flows.</div>
<div class="verse">Girded in pleasant borders ’tis for you</div>
<div class="verse">The Austrian Vienna there to view;</div>
<div class="verse">To admire the monarch, warlike, good and wise,</div>
<div class="verse">With the magnanimous Prussian king who vies</div>
<div class="verse">An army brave and numerous to sway;</div>
<div class="verse">Chosen and hardy, forward to obey,</div>
<div class="verse">Whom as companions honour’d he rewards,</div>
<div class="verse">And not as slaves abased a lord regards.</div>
<div class="verse">There agriculture flourish you will see;</div>
<div class="verse">Public instruction is promoted free;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The arts extended rapidly and wide;</div>
<div class="verse">And these among, in culture and esteem,</div>
<div class="verse">That with which Orpheus tamed the furious pride</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of forest beasts, and cross’d the Lethe’s stream:</div>
<div class="verse">There all the tales of wonderful effect,</div>
<div class="verse">Of music’s art divine, with which are deck’d</div>
<div class="verse">The ancient Greek and Latin histories,</div>
<div class="verse">No longer will seem fables in your eyes,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When near you may applaud the loftiness,</div>
<div class="verse">The harmony, and the consonance sublime,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">All that in varied symphonies to express</div>
<div class="verse">Has power the greatest master of our time;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Haydn the great, and merited his fame,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Whom to embrace I beg you in my name.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse"><a href="#note10" title="See note">But now the confines of the German land</a></div>
<div class="verse">I see you leaving, for the distant strand</div>
<div class="verse">Of Britain’s isle your rapid course to take,</div>
<div class="verse">And tour political around to make.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">There in the populous court, whose walls’ long side</div>
<div class="verse">Bathes the deep Thames in current vast and wide,</div>
<div class="verse">A nation’s image will before your eyes</div>
<div class="verse">In all things most extraordinary rise.</div>
<div class="verse">Not rich of old, but happy now we see</div>
<div class="verse">By totally unshackled industry.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A nation liberal, but ambitious too;</div>
<div class="verse">Phlegmatic, and yet active in its course;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Ingenuous, but its interests to pursue</div>
<div class="verse">Intent; humane, but haughty; and perforce</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Whate’er it be, the cause it undertakes,</div>
<div class="verse">Just or unjust, defends without remorse,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And of all fear and danger scorn it makes.</div>
<div class="verse">There with inevitably great surprise,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">What in no other country we may see,</div>
<div class="verse">You will behold to exert their energies</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Men act and speak with perfect liberty.</div>
<div class="verse">The rapid fortune too you will admire</div>
<div class="verse">Which eloquence and valour there acquire;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Nor power to rob has wealth or noble birth</div>
<div class="verse">The premiums due to learning and to worth.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">You will observe the hive-like multitude</div>
<div class="verse">Of diligent and able islanders,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Masters of commerce they have well pursued,</div>
<div class="verse">Which ne’er to want or slothfulness defers;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">All in inventions useful occupied,</div>
<div class="verse">In manufactures, roads, schools, arsenals,</div>
<div class="verse">Experiments in books and hospitals,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And studies of the liberal arts to guide.</div>
<div class="verse">There you will know in fine what may attain</div>
<div class="verse indent1">An education wise; the skilful mode</div>
<div class="verse">Of patriotic teaching, so to train</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Private ambition, that it seek the road</div>
<div class="verse">Of public benefit alone to gain:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The recompense and acceptation just,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On which founds learning all its hope and trust;</div>
<div class="verse">And a wise government, whose constant aim</div>
<div class="verse">Is general good, and an eternal fame.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Midst others my reflections I would fain,</div>
<div class="verse">In some description worthy of the theme,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">(If it were not beyond my powers) explain,</div>
<div class="verse">The varied scenes, enchantment all that seem,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Which the Parisian court on your return</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Prepares, and offers you surprised to learn.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Polish’d emporium of Europe’s courts,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The which with noble spectacles invites,</div>
<div class="verse">With public recreations and resorts,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That give to life its solace and delights;</div>
<div class="verse">Brilliant assemblages! and these among,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The chief and most acceptable to gain,</div>
<div class="verse">Of all to this new Athens that belong,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To enjoy the fellowship of learned men;</div>
<div class="verse">With useful science, or with taste alone,</div>
<div class="verse">Who enlighten foreign nations, and their own.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But I, who from this narrow corner write,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In solitude, while shaking off the dust</div>
<div class="verse">From military archives, ill recite</div>
<div class="verse indent1">What I, O travelling Secretary! trust</div>
<div class="verse">Yourself will better practically see,</div>
<div class="verse">Whilst I can only know in theory.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Continue then your journey on in health;</div>
<div class="verse">From tongue to tongue, from land to land proceed:</div>
<div class="verse">To be a statesman eminent your meed.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Acquire each day with joy your stores of wealth,</div>
<div class="verse">Of merit and instruction; I the while,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As fits my mediocrity obscure,</div>
<div class="verse">Will sing the praise of quiet from turmoil;</div>
<div class="verse indent1"><a href="#note11" title="See note">Saying, as Seneca has said of yore;—</a></div>
<div class="verse">“Let him, who power or honours would attain,</div>
<div class="verse">On the high court’s steep precipice remain.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>
<div class="verse">I wish for peace, that solitude bestows,</div>
<div class="verse">Secluse to enjoy the blessings of repose.</div>
<div class="verse">To pass my life in silence be my fate,</div>
<div class="verse">Unnoticed by the noble, or the great:</div>
<div class="verse">That when my age, without vain noise or show,</div>
<div class="verse">Has reach’d the bounds allotted us below,</div>
<div class="verse">Though a plebeian only to pass by,</div>
<div class="verse">Perhaps I yet an aged man may die.</div>
<div class="verse">And this I do believe, no death of all</div>
<div class="verse">Than his more cruel can a man befall,</div>
<div class="verse">Who dying, by the world too truly known,</div>
<div class="verse">Is of himself most ignorant alone.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h4><a href="#note12" title="See note">FABLES.</a></h4>
<h5>THE BEAR, THE MONKEY AND THE HOG.</h5>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">A Bear, with whom a Piedmontese</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A wandering living made,</div>
<div class="verse">A dance he had not learn’d with ease,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On his two feet essay’d:</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And, as he highly of it thought,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">He to the Monkey cried,</div>
<div class="verse">“How’s that?” who, being better taught,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">“’Tis very bad,” replied.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“I do believe,” rejoin’d the Bear,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">“You little favour show:</div>
<div class="verse">For have I not a graceful air,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And step with ease to go?”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">A Hog, that was beside them set,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Cried, “Bravo! good!” said he;</div>
<div class="verse">“A better dancer never yet</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I saw, and ne’er shall see.”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">On this the Bear, as if he turn’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His thoughts within his mind,</div>
<div class="verse">With modest gesture seeming learn’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A lesson thence to find.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“When blamed the Monkey, it was cause</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Enough for doubting sad;</div>
<div class="verse">But when I have the hog’s applause,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">It must be very bad!”</div>
</div>
<div class="hr"></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">As treasured gift, let authors raise</div>
<div class="verse indent1">This moral from my verse:</div>
<div class="verse">’Tis bad, when wise ones do not praise;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But when fools <em>do</em>, ’tis worse.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p>
<h5>THE ASS AND THE FLUTE.</h5>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">This little fable heard,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">It good or ill may be;</div>
<div class="verse">But it has just occurr’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thus accidentally.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Passing my abode,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Some fields adjoining me,</div>
<div class="verse">A big Ass on his road</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Came accidentally;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And laid upon the spot,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A Flute he chanced to see,</div>
<div class="verse">Some shepherd had forgot,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">There accidentally.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The animal in front,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To scan it nigh came he,</div>
<div class="verse">And snuffing loud as wont,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Blew accidentally.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The air it chanced around</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The pipe went passing free,</div>
<div class="verse">And thus the Flute a sound</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Gave accidentally.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“O! then,” exclaim’d the Ass,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">“I know to play it fine;</div>
<div class="verse">And who for bad shall class</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The music asinine?”</div>
</div>
<div class="hr"></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Without the rules of art,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Ev’n asses, we agree,</div>
<div class="verse">May once succeed in part,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thus accidentally.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h5>THE TWO RABBITS.</h5>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Some shrubs amidst to shun</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The dogs he saw pursue,</div>
<div class="verse">I will not call it run,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But say a rabbit flew.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">From out his hiding-place</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A neighbour came to see,</div>
<div class="verse">And said, “Friend, wait a space:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">What may the matter be?”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“What should it be?” he cried;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">“I breathless came in fear,</div>
<div class="verse">Because that I espied</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Two scoundrel greyhounds near.”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“Yes,” said the other, “far</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">I see them also there;</div>
<div class="verse">But those no greyhounds are!”</div>
<div class="verse indent1">“What?”—“Setters, I’ll declare.”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“How, setters do you say?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My grandad just as much!</div>
<div class="verse">They are greyhounds, greyhounds, they;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I saw them plainly such.”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“They are setters; get along:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">What know you of these matters?”—</div>
<div class="verse">“They are greyhounds; you are wrong:”—</div>
<div class="verse indent1">“I tell you they are setters.”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The dogs while they engage</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In these contentious habits,</div>
<div class="verse">Come up, and vent their rage</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On my two thoughtless rabbits.</div>
</div>
<div class="hr"></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Who minor points affect,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">So much about to quarrel,</div>
<div class="verse">And weightier things neglect,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Let them take the moral.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p>
<h5>THE LAMB AND HIS TWO ADVISERS.</h5>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">A farm there was, with a poultry-yard,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Where roved an old bantam about;</div>
<div class="verse">And laid at his ease, a pig was barr’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In a sty close by without.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">A lamb moreover was raised up there;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">We know it does so befall:</div>
<div class="verse">Together in farms these animals fare,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And in good company all.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“Well, with your leave,” said the pig one day</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To the lamb, “what a happy life!</div>
<div class="verse">And healthful too, to be sleeping away,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">One’s time without cares or strife!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“I say there is nothing, as I am a pig,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Like sleeping, stretch’d out at ease;</div>
<div class="verse">Let the world go round with its whirligig,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And cares just as it may please.”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The other the contrary chanced to tell</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The same little lamb, to take heed;</div>
<div class="verse">“Look, innocent! here, to live right well,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Sleep very little indeed.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“Summer or winter, early to rise</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">With the stars the practice seek;</div>
<div class="verse">For sleeping the senses stupefies,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And leaves you languid and weak.”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Confused, the poor lamb the counsels compares,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And cannot perceive in his mind,</div>
<div class="verse">That contrary each advising declares,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But how he himself is inclined.</div>
</div>
<div class="hr"></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And thus we find authors the practice make,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To hold, as infallibly true,</div>
<div class="verse">The rules they fancy themselves to take,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And in their own writings pursue.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h5>THE FLINT AND THE STEEL.</h5>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Cruelly bent, it chanced the Flint</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Ill-treated the Steel one day;</div>
<div class="verse">And wounding, gave it many a dint,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To draw its sparks away.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">When laid aside, this angry cried</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To that, “What would your value be</div>
<div class="verse">Without my help?” the Flint replied,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">“As much as yours, sir, but for me.”</div>
</div>
<div class="hr"></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">This lesson I write, my friends to incite;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Their talents, however great,</div>
<div class="verse">That they must study with them unite,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To duly cultivate.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The Flint gives light with the help of the Steel,</div>
<div class="verse">And study alone will talent reveal;</div>
<div class="verse">For neither suffice if found apart,</div>
<div class="verse">Whatever the talent or the art.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="III">III.<br />
<span class="smaller">JUAN MELENDEZ VALDES.</span></h3>
<p>For a hundred years after the time of Calderon de la Barca,
who died in 1687, there appeared in Spain no writer of
sufficient merit to be classed among those eminent characters,
who had done so much honour to Spanish literature
in the seventeenth century. Verses were published in sufficient
abundance, which found readers and even admirers,
merely from the necessity the public felt of having something
to read and to admire, as of the fashion of the day. But they
were written with a perversion of taste and a deficiency of
talent, which was truly astonishing, in the successors of such
authors, as had immediately preceded them.</p>
<p>This depression of literature, however, could not be expected
to continue long, among a people of such imaginative
and deep passioned character as the Spanish, whose native
genius was by far too buoyant, to be affected for any length
of time by inferior models, even under dynastic influences.
Accordingly, towards the end of the eighteenth century, it
might have become apparent to an attentive observer, that
another order of writers was about to be called forth, and
that the nation was prepared to welcome the advent of true
genius whenever it was to be recognized. Learned societies
had been established throughout Spain; education on a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
sound basis had been sedulously promoted; and the country
was wealthy, and sufficiently flourishing to give incitement to
the arts, which are the attendants of public prosperity.</p>
<p>At this epoch appeared Melendez Valdes, the restorer of
Spanish poetry, as his admirers with much justice termed
him; who then showed by his writings, that the old inspiration
of the national genius was yet capable of being revived
in all its former grace and strength; and who by the influence
of his example further roused the energies of other
men of genius to follow in his steps.</p>
<p>This highly gifted poet was born the 11th of March, 1754,
at Ribera del Fresno in the province of Estremadura, where
his parents were of what was called noble families, and, what
was more important, in respectable circumstances. The good
disposition noticed in the son determined them to destine
him for study, and to award him a becoming education.
Thus, having learned the rudiments of Latin at home, he was
sent to study philosophy, or what was called philosophy, at
Madrid, under the charge of the Dominican Fathers of St.
Thomas, where his application and advancement gained him
the esteem of his tutors and fellow-pupils. Thence he was
sent by his parents in 1770 to Segovia, to study with his
only brother, who was private secretary to the bishop of that
city, and with whom he was confirmed in that fondness for
reading, and taste for acquiring books, which might be called
the passion of his whole life. The bishop, who was a distant
relation, pleased with his talents and inclination for study,
sent him in 1772 to Salamanca, the alma mater of Spain,
and assisted him to proceed in the study of law, in which
he distinguished himself wherever he had an opportunity; so
that, says his biographer, “appearing absorbed in the pursuit
of that career, no one would have judged him the same
young man, whose inclination for poetry and learning was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>
soon after to place him at the head of the elegant literature
of his country.”</p>
<p>Fortunately for Melendez, continues his biographer, there
happened then to be at Salamanca Don Josè de Cadalso, “a
man celebrated for extensive erudition, combined with more
than ordinary talent for poetry and letters, and a zeal for the
glory and advancement of his country, learned in the school,
and under the inspiration of virtue. Generous and affable,
always lively, and at times satirical without branching off
into maliciousness, his conversation was kind and instructive,
and his principles indulgent and steadfast.” This eminent
individual, already well known in the literary world by several
works published in 1772 and 1773, immediately recognized
the value of Melendez: he took him to his house to live with
him, showed him the beauties and defects of the older writers,
taught him how to imitate them, and opened to him the
road to become acquainted with the literature of the learned
nations of Europe. “He afforded him an instruction yet
more precious, in the beautiful example he gave him to love
all writers of merit, to rise superior to envy, and to cultivate
letters without degrading them by unworthy disputations.
The eulogies Cadalso bestowed on his contemporaries are a
public testimony of this noble character; and the works of
Melendez, where there is not a single line detracting from
the merit of any one, and his whole literary career, exempt
from all attack, show how he profited by the lessons of his
master.”</p>
<p>The Anacreontic style, in which Cadalso excelled, was also
that first cultivated by Melendez; and the former, seeing the
progress of his pupil, and the first efforts of his Muse, unreservedly
acknowledged him his superior, and in prose and
verse announced him as the restorer of good taste and the
better studies of the University. This kindly u<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>nion was
maintained until the death of Cadalso, at the siege of
Gibraltar; and the “Elegiac song of Melendez on this misfortune,
will be, as long as the Spanish language endures, a
monument of affection and gratitude, as well as an example
of high and beautiful poetry.”</p>
<p>Beyond the instructions which he received from Cadalso,
Melendez was aided by the example and counsels of other distinguished
persons then residing at Salamanca, among whom
were two, favourably known as writers of verse, <a href="#note13" title="See note">Iglesias and
Gonzalez</a>. These, though they were soon eclipsed by the
young poet, admitted him to their friendship. By the latter
he was brought into communication with the illustrious
Jovellanos, then Judge of the High Court at Seville; and
between them soon was instituted a correspondence, which
has been in great part preserved, though as yet unpublished;
a valuable monument, says Quintana, in which are seen,
“livingly portrayed, the candour, the modesty and virtuous
feelings of the poet, the alternate progress of his studies,
the different attempts in which he essayed his talents, and
above all, the profound respect and almost idolatry with
which he revered his Mæcenas. There may be seen how he
employed his time and varied his tasks. At first he applied
himself to Greek, and began to translate Homer and Theocritus
into verse; but learning the immense difficulty of the
undertaking, and not stimulated to it by the bent of his
genius, he shortly abandoned it.”</p>
<p>He then dedicated himself to the English language and
literature, for which he was said to have ever had an exceeding
great predilection, observing, “that to the Essay on the
Human Understanding, he should owe all his life the little he
might know how to acquire.” As books came to his hands,
he went on reading and forming his judgements upon them,
the which he transmitted to his friend. Thus “by all th<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>e
means in his power he endeavoured to acquire and increase
that treasury of ideas, which so much contributes to perfection
in the art of writing, and without which verses are
nothing more than frivolous sounds.”</p>
<p>His application to study, however, soon proved more than
his health and strength would permit. He was obliged to
leave Salamanca, and repair to the banks of the Tormes,
which he has made famous in song, and there, by long attention
to the regimen imposed on him, he fortunately recovered.
About this time his brother died in 1777, their parents
having died previously; and Melendez suffered much grief,
as might naturally be expected, on being thus left alone
of his family, the more painful in his state of health. Jovellanos
urged him to join him at Seville, but he declined the
invitation, observing, that “the law of friendship itself, which
commands us to avail ourselves of a friend in necessity, also
commands that without it, we should not take advantage of
his confidence.”</p>
<p>Study, to which he now returned to engage himself with
more intensity than ever, was the best alleviant of his sorrow,
and time as usual at length allayed it. “He then gave himself
up to the reading and study of the English poets: Pope
and Young enchanted him. Of the former, he said that four
lines of his ‘Essay on Man’ were worth more, taught more,
and deserved more praise than all his own compositions.”
The latter he attempted to imitate, and in effect did so, in
the poem on ‘Night and Solitude,’ but in remitting it to his
friend, expressed with much feeling his sense of its deficiencies
compared with the original. Thomson also he studied,
and Gesner, in his lonely exercises by the Tormes, and acknowledged
how much he was indebted to the former for
many thoughts with which he subsequently enriched his
pastoral poems.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p>
<p>Thus having prepared himself to appear before the literary
world as a candidate for fame, an opportunity soon occurred
for him to obtain distinction. The Spanish Academy had
been proposing subjects for prizes, and then having given
one for an Eclogue, ‘On the happiness of a country life,’
Melendez felt himself in his element, and sent in his Essay
for the prize. This succeeded in receiving the first. The
second was awarded to Iriarte, who showed his mortification
on account of the preference, more sensibly than was becoming,
under the circumstances.</p>
<p>In the following year, 1781, Melendez went to Madrid,
where his friend Jovellanos had already been appointed
Councillor of the Military Orders, when for the first time
they met. Melendez was already in the road to fame, which
his friend had foretold for him; and Jovellanos, delighted
with the realization of his hopes and endeavours, received
him into his house, introduced him to his society, and took
every opportunity of advancing his interests. It was the
custom of the Academy of San Fernando to give triennial
celebrations, with much solemnity, for the distribution of
prizes, when eloquence, poetry and music were tasked to do
honour to the fine arts. One of these celebrations was about
to take place; Jovellanos was engaged to pronounce a discourse,
and Melendez was invited to exercise his genius on
the same subject, as the first literary characters of preceding
times had already given the example. Melendez acceded,
and delivered accordingly his Ode on the Glory of the Arts,
which was received with rapturous admiration, and ever since
seems to have been considered his masterpiece.</p>
<p>In the midst of these successes, Melendez received the
Professorship of Humanities in his University, and in the
following year, 1782, proceeded to the degree of Licentiate,
and in 1783 to that of Doctor of Law, having shortly befo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>re
the last married a lady of one of the principal families of
Salamanca. But as his professorship gave him little occupation,
and his marriage no family, he remained free to continue
his favourite studies.</p>
<p>In 1784, on the occasion of peace being made with England,
and the birth of twin Infantes, to give hopes of secure
succession to the throne, the city of Madrid prepared magnificent
celebrations of rejoicings, and among the rest, a prize
was proposed for the two best dramatic pieces that might be
offered within sixty days, under the condition that they
should be original, appropriate, and capable of theatrical
pomp and ornament. Out of fifty-seven dramas that were
offered, the prize was awarded to the one sent in by Melendez,
‘The Bridals of Comacho the Rich,’ a pastoral
comedy, which, however, though abounding in poetical passages,
was found on representation wanting in effect, so as to
be coldly received on the stage, where it has not since been
attempted.</p>
<p>This ill-success gave occasion to several detractors of
Melendez to pour forth the effusions of envy or disappointment
against him, to which he gave no other answer than by
the publication of his poems in a collected form. This was
in 1785; and the manner in which they were received, it
could be said, had had no parallel in Spain. Four editions,
of which three were furtive, were at once taken up, and all
classes of persons seemed to have the book in hand, commenting
on its excellences. The lovers of ancient poetry,
who saw so happily renewed the graces of Garcilasso, of
Leon and Herrera, and “even improved in taste and perfection,”
saluted Melendez as the restorer of the Castillian
Muses, and hailed the banishment of the prosaic style which
had previously prevailed. The applauses extended beyond
the kingdom, and found especially in Italy the admiration<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>
repeated, as well as in France and England, where several
of the poems are said to have been imitated.</p>
<p>Great as was his success in literature, it was not enough
provision for his daily needs, notwithstanding the help of his
professorship; and Melendez accordingly applied for and obtained
an office as a local judge at Zaragoza, of which he
took possession in September 1789. The duties of this
office were too onerous to admit of much study; but he was
soon removed, in 1791, to the chancery of Valladolid, where
he had more leisure, and where he remained till 1797, when
he was appointed Fiscal of the Supreme Court at Madrid.
During this time he wrote apparently little; but he prepared,
and in 1797 published, another edition of his works with
two additional volumes, enriched with many new poems, in
which he “had elevated his genius to the height of his age;”—“descriptive
passages of a superior order, elegies powerful
and pathetic, odes grand and elevated, philosophic and moral
discourses and epistles, in which he took alternately the
tone of Pindar, of Homer, of Thomson, and of Pope, and
drew from the Spanish lyre accents she had not previously
learned.”</p>
<p>But notwithstanding the great merit of many of these
poems, the biographer of Melendez had it to confess that
this publication was not so favourably received as the first
had been; and attempts to account for it partly by the circumstances
of the times, and partly by what was new not being
on the whole so finished and well-sustained in interest as his
former poems. Some of them also met with decided disfavour;
especially one, ‘The Fall of Lucifer,’ which showed
that his genius was not of the severer cast calculated for
graver and higher subjects allied to the epic, any more than
to the dramatic. But the merits of Melendez in his own
sphere are too great, and his fame is too well-founded to lo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>se by
acknowledgements which must be made in truth and justice.
It is not improbable that he had been urged by his admirers
to these attempts, to which his own inclinations would not
have led him, and it might thus have been the easiness of
his disposition that made him yield to suggestions which
ended in failure.</p>
<p>In the prologue which he affixed to this edition, Melendez
attempted to prove that poetic studies derogated nothing
from the judicial dignity, and that they had no incompatibility
with the duties and talents of a public man or man of
business. But without following him or his biographer into
such a discussion, we may concede the point so far, that any
one undertaking responsible duties from the State, is bound
to give them his best and undivided energies. If, however,
he has any hours of leisure free from those responsibilities, it
is surely only an extension of his duty for him to employ
them in attempting to make his fellow-men wiser and better,
or happier, in the manner most congenial to his disposition
or talents. Melendez certainly had no need to exculpate
himself in this respect, having been “long remembered at
Zaragoza and Valladolid as a model of integrity and application,
for his zeal in arranging amicably all disputations in
his power, for his affability and frankness in listening to
complaints, and for the humane and compassionate interest
with which he visited the prisoners, accelerating their causes,
and affording them assistance, with an inseparable adhesion to
justice.” <a href="#note14" title="See note">It was for his detractors</a>,—and Melendez had them,
notwithstanding the amiability of his character and the superiority
of his talents,—to make these objections, if they could
have done so. His resorting to such apologies only gave
the appearance of a consciousness of weakness, which was not
becoming either in the one character or the other.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p>
<p>Shortly after the publication of this edition, Melendez went
to Madrid to take possession of his new office. The advanced
age of his predecessor in it had for some time prevented his
due attention to its duties, so that Melendez had many arrears
to dispose of in addition to the ordinary services, through all
which he laboured with much assiduity and credit. But they
were the last satisfactory events of his life, which was henceforth
to be passed in reverses and misery. Yet at that time
he seemed to be in the height of prosperity. Holding an
elevated post under the government, of which his friend
Jovellanos was a member, and respected both at home and
abroad as one of the first literary characters of the age, he
might have justly hoped to be free from any of the darker
misfortunes of life. This exemption, however, was not to be
his lot, serving under a despotic government, of which the
head, Charles IV., was one of the weakest-minded of mortals,
guided by a favourite such as Godoy. When Jovellanos fell
under this favourite’s resentment, to make the blow inflicted
on that illustrious individual more poignant, it was extended
to others, whose only fault was that they shared his esteem.
Melendez was ordered away from Madrid within twenty-four
hours, though his friends procured for him soon after a commission
from the government as inspector of barracks at Medina
del Campo, where he gave himself up again to study and
such duties as were assigned him. Beyond these, however,
he particularly exerted himself, it is recorded, in attending to
the sick at the hospitals, providing that they should not be
sent out into the world, as had often been previously the
case, imperfectly cured or clothed, and unable to effect their
livelihood.</p>
<p>In this hum<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>ble occupation he might have been supposed
exempt at least from further malignity, but unfortunately
some sycophant of power thought it would be pleasing to the
favourite to have a frivolous accusation forwarded against
him, which had the effect of his being sent on half salary to
Zamora. There he was fortunate enough to have the intrigues
against him made known, and in June 1802, he received
a royal order to have his full salary allowed, with
liberty to reside where he pleased. He would have preferred
Madrid, but he found it most prudent to return to Salamanca,
and there, arranging his house and library, began to enjoy a
more peaceful life than what he had passed since he left the
University.</p>
<p>The literary world might now have hoped for further efforts
of genius in this asylum, and perhaps some superior work
worthy of his talents and fame; but his spirits had been
broken down by adversity and injustice, and his attention
was distracted by hopes and fears, from which he could never
free himself. A poem on Creation, and a translation of the
Æneid, were the fruits of six years’ retirement from the world;
and he proposed another edition of his works, which however
he did not accomplish, on the rapid succession of events
which again called him forth to a short period of active life,
and subsequent years of suffering.</p>
<p>The revolution of Aranjuez brought Melendez to Madrid,
in the hopes of recovering his former employments; but in
the troubled state of the country, he soon wished to return
to his house, without being able to effect it. The French
had now made themselves masters of the capital, and Melendez
was unfortunately induced to take office under them.
This conduct was contrary, not only to the course taken by
Jovellanos and his other friends, but also to the whole tenor
of his former life and opinions. His easy temper, which had
at all times led him submissive to the wishes of those who
had his confidence, no doubt on this occasion had been infl<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>uenced
by persons near him, and he might have thought it
a hopeless struggle to contend with Napoleon.</p>
<p>Having however engaged in this unpatriotic service, he
was sent as a commissioner, on the part of the intrusive government,
to the Asturias, where the people had already risen
in vindication of the national independence. Melendez and
his colleague were seized by the populace, notwithstanding
the efforts of the local authorities, who had placed them for
security in the prison, the doors of which were forced, and
they were led out to be put to death. All entreaties were in
vain. Melendez protested his attachment to the national
cause, and even began reciting some patriotic verses he had
been writing, but the excited multitude would not hear him.
They added insults to menaces, and as a great favour only
permitted them to confess before they should be executed.
Thus a little time was gained; but this was at length concluded
and they were tied to a tree, and the party prepared
to shoot them, when a dispute arose whether they should be
shot from in front or behind as traitors, a piece of etiquette
in such cases considered of importance. The latter counsel
prevailed, and the prisoners had to be loosened and tied
again accordingly, when the authorities and religious orders
of the place, with a particular Cross famous among them, appeared
approaching for their rescue. The people hereon became
calmed, and Melendez and his colleague were taken
back to the prison, whence they were soon permitted to return
to Madrid.</p>
<p>On the success of the Spanish army at Bailen, the French
retired from the capital, and Melendez remained at Madrid,
hoping, through the influence of Jovellanos, to be taken into
favour with the constitutional party. But fortune again
seemed to side with the French, and they returned to Madrid,
when Melendez was again induced to join them, and accep<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>ted
office as Councillor of State and President of a Board
of Public Instruction. Thus he inevitably compromised himself
in a cause which was not that of his heart or principles,
and whose apparently irresistible strength could only have
excused his adhesion to it. This supposition, however, also
proved erroneous; and when the French armies had to abandon
Spain, Melendez, with their other principal adherents,
had to fly with them also, having had the further misfortune
to have his house plundered, and his valuable library destroyed,
by the very marauders for whose sake he had lost all his hopes
of the future at home.</p>
<p>Before entering France, Melendez, kneeling down, kissed
the Spanish soil, saying, “I shall not return to tread thee
again.” His apprehensions, notwithstanding his anxiety to
do so, proved correct. He passed four years in France, residing
at Toulouse, Montpelier, Nismes and Alaix, as circumstances
compelled him, in great privation and with bodily
sufferings, the more aggravating, in his advanced age, the
bitter remembrances of the past. A paralytic affection first
incapacitated him from all exertion, and finally, an apoplectic
attack terminated his existence, at Montpelier, on the 24th
May, 1817, in the arms of his wife, who had followed him
through all the vicissitudes of life, and surrounded by the
companions of his exile. A monument was afterwards placed
to his memory in the cemetery by <a href="#note15" title="See note">the Duke de Frias</a>.</p>
<p>Notwithstanding the indecision of his character in public
life, Melendez was in private remarkable for laborious application
to his studies and duties. His reading was immense,
and his desire unceasing to be useful, and to contribute, by
all the means in his power, to the well-being of his fellows.
His kindness of heart is conspicuous in all his writings, which
also portray the diffidence of his own powers, ascribed to him
by his biographer.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p>
<p>His principal objects of veneration seem to have been the
writings of Newton and Locke. The former, as the “Great
Newton,” is often named by him. Pope he took for his model
avowedly in poetry, and he strove to imitate the moral and
philosophic tone of that great poet’s writings, whose elegance
of style he certainly rivalled. Nothing in Spanish verse had
been ever produced to equal the sweetness of his verses, their
easy tone, and sparkling thoughts and expression. He was
much attached to drawing, but had no inclination for music,
not even to the charms of song, the more singular in one
whose ear for the melody of verse appears to have been so
sensitive. To the very last he seems to have been endeavouring
to improve his poems, which have been thus observed to
have often lost in strength and expression what they gained
in cadence.</p>
<p>“The principles of his philosophy were benevolence and
toleration; and he belonged to that race of philanthropists
who hope for the progressive amelioration of the human race,
and the advent of a period, when civilization, or the empire of
the understanding, extended over the earth, will give men
that grade of perfection and felicity compatible with the
faculties and the existence of each individual. Such are the
manifestations of his philosophic poems, and such a state he
endeavoured to aid in producing by his talents and labours.”</p>
<p>His influence as a poet has certainly been very great. All
the writers in Spain, who immediately succeeded him, especially
Quintana, showed evident proofs of having profited by
the lessons his example gave them, and those lessons seem to
have sunk deeply into the minds of successive generations, so
as to leave no doubt of their continuing in the same course.</p>
<p>After his arrival in France, Melendez wrote a few short
poems, which, notwithstanding his age and failing health,
showed his spirit was still the same, and his imaginati<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>on as
lively as ever. At Nismes he prepared an edition of his
works, which the Spanish government published at their cost
after his death, when they also gave his widow the pension
allotted for her, as according to her husband’s former rank.
This edition has been the one subsequently several times reprinted,
with a biography by the eminent Quintana, worthy
of himself and of his master. The prologue to it, by Melendez,
is very interesting, and from it we learn, with regret,
that upon the destruction of his library, “the most choice
and varied he had ever seen belonging to a private individual,
in the formation of which he had expended a great part of his
patrimony and all his literary life,” he had lost what he considered
some of his best poems, and some tracts, in prose,
which he had prepared for the press, on Legislation, on Civil
Economy, the Criminal Laws, on Prisons, Mendicancy and
other subjects.</p>
<p>The misfortunes of Melendez were certainly much to be
lamented, but throughout them he could unquestionably console
himself with the conviction of having been actuated ever
by upright motives, and of leaving to his country an imperishable
name. His literary career had been an eminently
successful one, and he had felt the full enjoyment of fame.
In the prologue, above mentioned, he refers very feelingly to
the reverses to which he had been subjected, but also with
apparent satisfaction to the various editions and notices of
his works, published both in Spain and abroad.</p>
<p>In leaving revised his works, published afterwards by the
government, Madrid 1820, Melendez left also this positive
direction: “Although I have composed many other poems,
these appear to me the least imperfect, and I therefore forbid
the others to be reprinted under any pretext. I earnestly
request this of the editor, and expect it of his probity and
good feeling, that he will fulfil this, my will, in every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> respect.”
In accordance with this request, many of his earlier
works have been, with much propriety, omitted, and the remainder
have been considerably corrected; at the same time
that a great number of poems are added, that had not been
previously published. The <a href="#note16" title="See note">best edition of his works is that
by Salva</a>, Paris 1832.</p>
<p>Melendez enjoyed in his day a higher reputation than
readers at present are willing to concede him, comparing him
with the other poets that have since appeared in Spain. But
the merits of writers should be considered, in justice, relatively
only to those who have preceded them, and by this
standard he is certainly fully entitled to the eulogiums which
his contemporaries awarded him.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p>
<h3>MELENDEZ VALDES.</h3>
<h4><a href="#note17" title="See note">JUVENILITIES.</a></h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">When I was yet a child,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A child Dorila too,</div>
<div class="verse">To gather there the flowerets wild,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">We roved the forest through.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And gaily garlands then,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With passing skill display’d,</div>
<div class="verse">To crown us both, in childish vein,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her little fingers made.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And thus our joys to share,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In such our thoughts and play,</div>
<div class="verse">We pass’d along, a happy pair,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The hours and days away.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But ev’n in sports like these,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Soon age came hurrying by!</div>
<div class="verse">And of our innocence the ease</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Malicious seem’d to fly.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I knew not how it was,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">To see me she would smile;</div>
<div class="verse">And but to speak to her would cause</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Me pleasure strange the while.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Then beat my heart the more,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When flowers to her I brought;</div>
<div class="verse">And she, to wreathe them as before,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Seem’d silent, lost in thought.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">One evening after this</div>
<div class="verse indent1">We saw two turtle-doves,</div>
<div class="verse">With trembling throat, who, wrapt in bliss,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Were wooing in their loves.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">In manifest delight,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With wings and feathers bow’d,</div>
<div class="verse">Their eyes fix’d on each other bright,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">They languish’d, moaning loud.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The example made us bold,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And with a pure caress,</div>
<div class="verse">The troubles we had felt we told,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Our pains and happiness.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And at once from our view</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Then, like a shadow, fled</div>
<div class="verse">Our childhood and its joys, but new,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Love gave us his instead.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p>
<h4><a href="#note18" title="See note">THE TIMID LOVER.</a></h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">In the sharp pains the tyrant Love</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Since first I saw thee made me feel,</div>
<div class="verse">To thee a thousand times above,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I come those pains to heal,</div>
<div class="verse">My village girl! but soon as nigh</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To thee I find my way,</div>
<div class="verse">If e’er so bold to be I try,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I know not what to say.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">My voices fail, and mournful sighs,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Malicious phrenzy watching o’er,</div>
<div class="verse">The place of them alone supplies;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">While mocks my efforts more</div>
<div class="verse">The traitor god, when anxious by</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My thoughts to speak I pray;</div>
<div class="verse">If e’er so bold to be I try,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I know not what to say.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Then feels his fire so strong my soul,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Meseems to die my only fate,</div>
<div class="verse">My tears in torrents freely roll,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And with deep groanings wait,</div>
<div class="verse">To move thy feeling heart’s reply;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But vainly, all astray,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
<div class="verse">If e’er so bold to be I try,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I know not what to say.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I know not what, in trembling fear,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That seals my lips, as yet to learn</div>
<div class="verse">A foolish hope, thou mayst ev’n here</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My hapless love discern.</div>
<div class="verse">I feel I must for ever fly</div>
<div class="verse indent1">From thy side far away;</div>
<div class="verse">If e’er so bold to be I try,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I know not what to say.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Alas! if thou couldst, my adored!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But hear those sighs, and thoughts express’d,</div>
<div class="verse">What happiness ’twould me afford!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I should be, Phyllis, blest.</div>
<div class="verse">But woe is me! beneath thine eye,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To sink in mock’d dismay,</div>
<div class="verse">If e’er so bold to be I try,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I know not what to say.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p>
<h4><a href="#note19" title="See note">MY VILLAGE LIFE.</a></h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">When able happily am I</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To my poor village to escape,</div>
<div class="verse">From all the city’s noise to fly,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And cares of every shape;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Like a new man my spirits give</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Me then to feel, in joyous link;</div>
<div class="verse">For only then I seem to live,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And only then to think.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The insufferable hours that there</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In weariness to me return’d,</div>
<div class="verse">Now on a course so gently bear,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Their flight is scarce discern’d.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The nights that there in sloth and play</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Alone their occupations keep,</div>
<div class="verse">Here with choice books I pass away,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And in untroubled sleep.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">With the first dawn I wake, to change</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Rejoiced the soft bed’s balmy rest,</div>
<div class="verse">Through the life-giving air to range,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That free dilates the breast.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">It pleases me the heavens to view,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">O’erspread with red and golden glows,</div>
<div class="verse">When first his lustres to renew,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His splendours Phœbus shows.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">It pleases me, when bright his rays,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Above the zenith fiery shine,</div>
<div class="verse">To lose me in the thick wood’s maze,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And in their shade recline.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">When languidly he hides his head,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In last reflection, even then</div>
<div class="verse">The mountain heights I eager tread,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To follow him again.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And when the night its mantle wide</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Extends around of beaming lights,</div>
<div class="verse">Their motions, measuring as they glide,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My watchful eye recites.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Then to my books return’d, with awe,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My wondering thoughts, to trace, rehearse</div>
<div class="verse">The course of that portentous law,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That rules the universe.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">From them, and from the lofty height</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of such my thoughts, I then descend</div>
<div class="verse">To where my rustic friends await,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My leisure to attend.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And with them taking up the part,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">They give me in their toils and cares</div>
<div class="verse">To share, with jokes that merry start,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Away the evening wears.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">About his crops one tells me all,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Another all about his vines,</div>
<div class="verse">And what their neighbours may befall</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Each many a tale combines.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I ponder o’er each sage advice;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Their proverbs carefully I store;</div>
<div class="verse">Their doubts and quarrels judge concise,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As arbitrator o’er.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">My judgements all extol they free,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And all together talking loud;</div>
<div class="verse">For innocent equality</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Reigns in their breasts avow’d.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Then soon the servant comes to bring</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The brimming jugs, and next with these</div>
<div class="verse">The mirthful girl supplies the ring</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With chestnuts, and the cheese.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And all, in brotherly content,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Draw nearer round, to pass untold</div>
<div class="verse">The sparkling cups, that wine present</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of more than three years old.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And thus my pleasant days to pass,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">In peace and happiness supreme,</div>
<div class="verse">(For so our tastes our pleasures class,)</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But like a moment seem.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h4>REMEMBRANCES OF YOUTH.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Like a clear little stream,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That with scarcely a sound,</div>
<div class="verse">Through the plain among flowers,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Glides whirling around,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">So the fugitive years</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of my easy life sped,</div>
<div class="verse">Amidst laughter and play,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Like a dream have fled.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">On that dream to look back,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Oft in wonder I dwell;</div>
<div class="verse">Nor to tear me have power</div>
<div class="verse indent1">From its pleasing spell.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">On each side in soft ease,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With friends cherish’d and gay,</div>
<div class="verse">In diversions and dance,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In banquets and play,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">With roses Cytheran</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Sweet martyrdoms twine,</div>
<div class="verse">Of the blinded ring join’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To deliriums of wine.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And hopes so fallacious,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Bright castles that shone</div>
<div class="verse">In the air as upraised,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">By the winds overthrown.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">With the Muses to crown</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The grave tasks, that are born</div>
<div class="verse">Of wisdom, with laurel</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Their sons to adorn:</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Here a thousand retreats</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of charm’d leafy arcade,</div>
<div class="verse">That to slumber beguile,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In freshness and shade:</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">There beyond in the bowers</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of sweet Cnidus arise,</div>
<div class="verse">As of fear and desire,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Half mingled, the sighs:</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">There the broad river spreads,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Showing soft its delights,</div>
<div class="verse">To oblivion of all</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Whose crystal invites;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">With a gaze of desire</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">The fair banks I descend,</div>
<div class="verse">And to the false waters</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My thirsty lips bend;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">For a full draught I seek,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But feel suddenly by,</div>
<div class="verse">Disenchant me the call</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of a friendly cry:—</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“Where impell’d dost thou go,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In such blind madness, where?</div>
<div class="verse">O, fool! round thy footsteps</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Hid dangers are there!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“The wild fancy restrain,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Light ill-omen’d is this,</div>
<div class="verse">Where but lures thee to whelm</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A fatal abyss.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“Of thy happier years</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Is the verdure dispell’d,</div>
<div class="verse">And what were then graces</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Now vices are held.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“Thou art man! it befits</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thee repenting in truth,</div>
<div class="verse">To gild virtuous with toils</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The errors of youth!”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I yield, from the current</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">I tremblingly fly:</div>
<div class="verse">But with eyes looking back,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Repeat with a sigh,—</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“If to fall be a sin,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">What hast thou, Nature, meant?</div>
<div class="verse">The path made so easy,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">So sweet the descent?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“How blest are the creatures,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With instincts secure,</div>
<div class="verse">Whom to swerve from the right</div>
<div class="verse indent1">No perils allure!”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h4>OF THE SCIENCES.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I applied myself to science,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In its great truths believing,</div>
<div class="verse">That from my troubles I hence</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Some ease might be receiving.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O! what a sad delusion!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">What lessons dear I learn’d me!</div>
<div class="verse">To verses in conclusion,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And mirth and dance I turn’d me.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">As if it were that life could</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Produce so little trouble,</div>
<div class="verse">That we with toils and strife would</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Make each one of them double.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I stand by smiling Bacchus,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In joys us wont to wrap he;</div>
<div class="verse">The wise, Dorila, lack us</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The knowledge to be happy.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">What matters it, if even</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In fair as diamond splendour,</div>
<div class="verse">The sun is fix’d in heaven?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Me light he’s born to render.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The moon is, so me tell they,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With living beings swarmy;</div>
<div class="verse">“There may be thousands,” well they</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Can never come to harm me!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">From Danube to the Ganges,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">History tells how did he</div>
<div class="verse">The Macedonian launch his</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Proud banner fierce and giddy!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">What’s that to us, to entice us,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">If only half this valley,</div>
<div class="verse">To feed our lambs suffice us,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With all our wants to tally?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">If not, leave all to justice:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Give me some drink, o’erpower’d</div>
<div class="verse">With but to name this goddess,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I feel myself a coward.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">They much who study ever</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Have thousand plagues annoy them;</div>
<div class="verse">Which in their best endeavour</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Their peace and joy destroy them:</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And then what do they gather?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A thousand doubts upspringing,</div>
<div class="verse">Which other puzzlings farther</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Them other doubts are bringing.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And so through life they haste on,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">One enviable truly!</div>
<div class="verse">Disputes and hates to waste on,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And ne’er agreeing throughly.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">My shepherd girl! but bring me</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Then wine abundant very,</div>
<div class="verse">And fear not songs I’ll sing thee,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As endlessly and merry.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p>
<h4>THE DISDAINFUL SHEPHERDESS.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">If, as thou sayst, thou lovest me well,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Dear girl, those scornfulnesses cease;</div>
<div class="verse">For love can ne’er in union dwell</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With such asperities.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Show sharp disdain, to plight if e’er</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Another proffers thee his troth;</div>
<div class="verse">To two at once to listen fair</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Is an offence to both.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Let one be chosen, so to prove</div>
<div class="verse indent1">How great your happiness may be;</div>
<div class="verse">Thou calmly to enjoy his love,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And he to love thee free;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Above all maids to extol thee most;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And thou to tenderness incline,</div>
<div class="verse">To yield repaying him the boast</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His love gives forth for thine.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Reserve and rigour to preside</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In love, is like the ice in spring,</div>
<div class="verse">That robs fair May of all its pride,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The flocks of pasturing:</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But kindness, like the gentle rain,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Which April gives to glad the field,</div>
<div class="verse">Which makes all flourishing the plain,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And seeds their stores to yield.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Be not disdainful then, but kind:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Know not to certain beauteous eyes</div>
<div class="verse">Alone all beauty is confined,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or locks of golden dyes.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Vain puff’d-up beauty will appear,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But like some showy ivy stem;</div>
<div class="verse">They may surprise, but fruitless, ne’er</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Have any valuing them.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">If join’d with kindness, like the vine</div>
<div class="verse indent1">It seems, with fruitful stores array’d;</div>
<div class="verse">Where all contentedly recline,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Beneath its peaceful shade:</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And whose green stems, the elm around,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When twining with adorning grace</div>
<div class="verse">Its leaves, will hold it also bound,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Firm in its fond embrace.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Flower of a day is beauty’s bloom;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Time leaves it soon behind: if e’er</div>
<div class="verse">Thou doubt’st my word, let Celia’s doom</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The lesson true declare.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Celia, for witching beauty famed</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Once far and wide, so foolish proud,</div>
<div class="verse">A thousand captives who contemn’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That all before her bow’d,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Now worn by years would blindly try</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Who to her service may be won;</div>
<div class="verse">But finds all from her turn to fly,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To look at her finds none.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">For with her snow and rose the beams</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And lustre of her eyes are flown,</div>
<div class="verse">And like a wither’d rose-tree seems,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Sad, wrinkled and alone.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">’Tis but ingenuous kindness true,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The maid that loves in honour’s bonds,</div>
<div class="verse">Who listens to her lover sue,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And tenderly responds;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Who at his pleasantries will smile,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Who dances with him at the feast,</div>
<div class="verse">Receives the flowers his gift, the while</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His love with like increased;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Who him her future husband sees,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Is neither coy nor feels ashamed,</div>
<div class="verse">For he as hers, and she as his,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The village through are named,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">That always like the dawn will seem,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">When calm its light shines o’er the plain,</div>
<div class="verse">And keeping all beneath her beam</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Bound captive in her chain:</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Years without clouding pass away;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Care to oppress her ne’er affects;</div>
<div class="verse">Ev’n rivalry forgives her sway,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And envy’s self respects.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Her cheerfulness and happy vein,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Being to latest age to share,</div>
<div class="verse">Delight of all the shepherd train,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Enchantment of the fair.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Be then, my Amaryllis! kind;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Cease those disdainfulnesses, cease;</div>
<div class="verse">For with thy pleasing grace combined</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Such harshness ill agrees.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The heavens ne’er form’d thee perfect thus,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Surpassingly of matchless cost,</div>
<div class="verse">That such high gifts should ruinous</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Be miserably lost.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Be kind, receive thy lover’s vow,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And all the village thou wilt find,</div>
<div class="verse">Who murmur at thy coldness now,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To praise thee then as kind.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thus sang Belardo, at her door,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">His shepherd girl to wait upon,</div>
<div class="verse">Who scornful, from her casement o’er,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Bids him be silent and begone.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="IV">IV.<br />
<span class="smaller">LEANDRO FERNANDEZ MORATIN.</span></h3>
<p>Spanish writers have in general too much overrated the
<a href="#note20" title="See note">merits of their national dramas</a>, and foreigners have too often
repeated the eulogies, as if they were deserved. Like those
of antiquity, the Spanish, though they abound in passages of
much poetry and feeling, are almost entirely deficient in that
delineation of individual character, which constitutes the
highest class of the art. Thus all the representations may
be observed of the same description of personages and incidents,
given often with much ingenuity, but also often in the
worst taste, and always betokening a limited power of invention.
Of this school Calderon de la Barca was the great
type, both as regards his merits and defects. Lopez de Vega
too, though his comedies are more representations of manners
and every-day life than Calderon’s, only showed his capability
of something better, if he had allowed his genius to seek a
reputation for perfectness, rather than for fecundity. The inferior
order of writers mistook the errors of these for excellences,
and thus exaggerated them.</p>
<p>There were not, however, wanting in Spain persons of
better judgement, who observed those errors with a view to
correct them, and among whom the prominent place is due to
the two Moratins, father and son. Of these the former seem<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>s
to have been the first of his countrymen who openly denounced
the wrong tendencies of the national dramatists;
and the latter, following in the same track, may be pronounced
the great reformer of the Spanish stage, to whom it
owes some of its best productions.</p>
<p>The elder Moratin was one of the ablest writers of verses
in Spain during the last century, before the new æra of
poetry arose, and his merits, if not of themselves superior to
those of his contemporaries, have had an advantage over
them, in connexion with the reputation of the son, who has
rendered them more celebrated by a pleasing memoir of his
father, prefixed to his works. From this we learn, that if
the father did not attain a high rank himself as a poet or
dramatist, yet he well deserves to be remembered as a bold
and judicious critic, who, both by precept and example,
effected much good in his own day, and still more by instilling
good lessons into the mind of the son, so as to enable
him to attain his merited success.</p>
<p>In the words of this memoir, “Calderon at that time enjoyed
so high a reputation, that it appeared a sacrilegious
hardihood to notice defects in his comedies or sacramental
pieces, which, repeated annually on the stage with every possible
pomp and appliance, delighted the vulgar of all classes,
and perpetuated the applauses of their famous author. Moratin
published three Discourses, which he entitled, ‘Exposition
of the Misconceptions of the Spanish Theatre,’ written
with the good judgement of a man of taste, and with the zeal
of a citizen interested in the progression and literary glory of
his country. In the first he showed the defects in which the
old plays abounded; as also the modern, with which poets,
without rule or plan, supplied the players, sanctioning every
time more irregularity and ignorance. In the two following,
he proved that the Autos of Calderon, so admired by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>
multitude, ought not to be suffered in a country that prided
itself as civilized. It is unnecessary to say what opposition
these discourses encountered; it is enough to add, that the
third was scarcely published when the government prohibited
the repetition of what he had condemned:—a memorable
epoch in the annals of the Spanish stage, which can never remember,
without praise, that judicious and intrepid writer to
whom it owed so useful a reform.”</p>
<p>Of this able critic, Leandro Moratin was the only son that
survived childhood. He was born at Madrid, the 10th of
March, 1760, and in his earliest years is described as having
been remarkable for infantile grace and vivacity. At four
years of age, however, he unfortunately had a severe attack of
the smallpox, which not only left its disfiguring marks on his
countenance, but also seemed to have changed his character,
making him the rest of his life shy and reserved. As he
grew up he shunned all playfellows; like Demophilus, he
was a man among boys,—Κεῖνος γὰρ ἐν παισὶν νέος—and
devoting himself to drawing and making juvenile verses, pursued
his favourite studies in secret, so that even the father
seemed not to have been ever fully aware of the bent of his
son’s genius.</p>
<p>The elder Moratin, whose father had been jewel-keeper to
Isabel Farnesi, widow of Philip V., had been brought up to
the profession of the law, in which he had not acquired any
eminence, though he had some as an author. Seeing his
son’s talent for drawing, he had first intended him to take
advantage of it as an artist, but finally placed him with a
brother, Miguel de Moratin, who was a jeweller, to learn his
occupation. In his earlier years the younger Moratin had
been only at an obscure private school in Madrid, but he had
good examples and lessons at home, and recourse to his
father’s library, where he found all the best works in Spani<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>sh
literature, for secret study, beyond the tasks set in routine for
his education. In 1779 the Spanish Academy, in the course
of its objects for the promotion of literary pursuits, had
offered, as a subject for a prize poem, The Taking of Granada;
when the Accessit was awarded to a competitor who had signed
himself Efren de Lardnoz y Morante. On this person being
called for, Leandro Moratin, to the surprise of his father,
presented himself as the author, producing the rough copy of
the verses he had sent. This was naturally a source of great
delight to the father, who might thus foresee, in hope at
least, his son’s future success. But he did not live to witness
it, having died the following year, at only forty-two years of
age, leaving a widow dependent on his son’s labours as a
working jeweller. At this business he continued, therefore,
combining however with it his former studies, as far as his
leisure permitted him.</p>
<p>In 1782 he obtained the honour of another Accessit from
the Academy for a Satire on the vicious practices introduced
into the Spanish language, and a greater feeling thereupon
arose in his favour from literary persons who remembered his
father, with the respect due to his merits. Hence, also,
Leandro Moratin, notwithstanding his natural reserve, was
drawn from his retirement into the company of several young
men of kindred tastes and pursuits, whose conversation and
society had great and good effect on his mind and future
efforts.</p>
<p>In 1785 he published an edition of his father’s poems,
with reflections, which may be considered his first essay on
criticism and declaration of opinion on matters of taste, according
to the precepts of the purest classicism, then so much
in fashion. From his earliest years he had been much attached
to the theatre, then sunk to the low state which he so
feelingly describes in the preliminary discourse to his Comed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>ies,
subsequently published; and having witnessed his father’s
anxiety to reform its abuses, he felt it a sort of inheritance
left him to attempt the task. He had already begun one of
his plays, which however he had not sufficient leisure to complete,
on account of the demands for his daily labour; but
about this time his mother died, and Leandro had then only
his own wants to consider.</p>
<p>At the same time the good and great Jovellanos, whose
notice he had attracted, proposed him as secretary to the
Conde de Cabarrus, then going to Paris on a special mission,
where accordingly Leandro went with that able and enlightened
statesman, in January 1787, returning to Madrid in the
January following. Shortly after the Conde and Jovellanos
fell into ill-favour at court, and all their friends were involved
in their fall. Moratin took shelter in the obscurity of his
original occupation, and so escaped notice. He completed
his play, but could not get it represented, and in the course
of delays had the license for it withdrawn. He wished to be
exempt from labour for maintenance, to give himself up to
his favourite studies, but sought in vain for other means of
attaining this end than from the favour of the government.
A change in the ministry having now occurred, he wrote a
petition, in verse, to the Conde de Florida Blanca, in which,
humorously depicting his wants, he asked a small benefice
in the church. This, though a very small one, was granted
him, and thereupon he had to take the first orders of the
tonsure. Shortly afterwards, Godoy, Prince of the Peace,
came into power, and became a still more effectual patron for
Moratin, on whom he conferred other benefices and favours,
to the amount of about £600 a year sterling, so that he became
at once, for his position in life, wealthy, and enabled to
devote himself entirely to literature.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p>
<p>It has been the fashion lately for all parties to decry Godoy,
and there can be no doubt that he was guilty of much misconduct
in the exercise of power. But he was in this only
acting according to the circumstances in which he was placed,
and the favourite and minister of a weak-minded and despotic
monarch could not be expected to have acted much otherwise
than he did. In the memoirs he published in his later years
in his justification, Godoy has, in a tone of apparent sincerity
and earnestness, sometimes amounting even to eloquence,
shown that often he could not have acted otherwise, and that
his faults were the faults of his position, while his merits
were his own. He declares that he was the first minister in
Spain who curbed the power of the Inquisition, and that he
had never instituted any prosecution for private opinions.
His treatment of Jovellanos he might well excuse to himself,
as a return for hostility manifested to him under circumstances
that he might consider to warrant it. But of other
eminent men of learning and of the arts he was the munificent
patron, of Melendez among others, and of Moratin more
especially. The former dedicated to him the second edition
of his works, and Moratin now one of his plays, which had
been received with much favour. From this dedication, a
judgement may be formed by the translation, of the spirit of
Moratin, that, while under the sense of great obligations, he
did not condescend, like other poets, to flatter his Mæcenas’s
vanity by ascriptions of descent from ancient kings or other
fictions; but dwelt only on his personal qualities, and the
great power which he undoubtedly possessed, as exercised
in his favour. The same spirit Moratin showed in his letter
to Jovellanos, in which adulation could less be imputed
to him, as that illustrious individual was in disgrace at court,
and no longer the dispenser of the favours of the gover<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>nment.</p>
<p>But Moratin showed the independence of his character still
more decidedly, in refusing the request made by Godoy that
he should write eulogistic verses on a lady of the court; and
it is to the honour of Godoy, we are informed, that though
he was at first angry at the refusal, he passed it over without
subsequent notice.</p>
<p>To another request made by Godoy, for an ode on the
Battle of Trafalgar, Moratin acceded, though it is stated with
considerable disinclination to the task. He could not, he replied
at first, celebrate a lost battle, and as Hermosillia tells
us, could not hide from himself the ridiculousness of having
to represent a complete defeat as a glorious triumph, though
the “dreaded Nelson” had fallen in it. He felt bound, however,
to obey the favourite and to reconcile his task to justice,
wrote his ‘Shade of Nelson,’ in imitation of the Prophecy of
Nereus, and of the Tagus by Fray Luis de Leon. In this
poem, he represents Nelson appearing the same night on the
heights of Trafalgar, and foretelling England’s approaching
ruin, notwithstanding the victory which had been gained “so
dearly, as to be in reality a discomfiture.” He observes, that
“Napoleon, having overcome the Austrians, would now turn
all his energies to the conquest of England, while Spain
would raise a mightier fleet to join him. He therefore counselled
his countrymen to abandon their ambitious projects
and make peace, and to create disunion in foreign countries
by corrupting their cabinets, for the purpose of maintaining
their preponderance.” The thoughts are expressed in elegant
poetical language, but the whole argument shows how little
feeling he had in favour of the subject. In the last edition
of his works prepared for publication before his death, he
took care to have it omitted, but it has been again inserted
in subsequent editions.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p>
<p>Prior to this, however, he had had a full opportunity of
judging the character of the English nation. He had obtained
permission to go abroad from Godoy, who also munificently
gave him the means for that purpose. He first went
to Paris, where he had scarcely arrived, in September 1792,
when hearing a great tumult in the streets, and looking out
for the occasion of it, he saw the head of the Princess de
Lamballe borne along by the infuriated multitude on a pike.
Horror-struck at the sight, he immediately left Paris for
London, as, says his biographer, “anxious to contemplate for
the first time true liberty arrayed in popular forms, without
the mortal convulsions of licentiousness, or the withering
foot-marks of oppression.” Here he stayed about a year,
taking notes of the lively impressions made on him of the
“character, ideas, traditions, legislation, and political and
commercial tendency of that singular nation, so worthy of
being studied.” It may be allowed us to regret that those
notes were never published, and perhaps the censor’s license
for them could not have been obtained. The only fruit of his
visit was a translation of Hamlet, which he published in 1798,
on his return.</p>
<p>On leaving England, Moratin passed through Flanders and
some parts of Germany and Switzerland to Italy, whence, after
visiting all the principal cities there, he returned to Spain in
December 1796. Previous to his arrival in Madrid, he had
been appointed Secretary Interpreter of languages, a valuable
appointment in itself, but still more so to him, as it left him
sufficient leisure for study. He took advantage of this to
proceed with several dramas with which he enriched the
Spanish stage, and had projected others which he felt under
the necessity of abandoning. In several of his pieces, and
especially in the Mogigata, which Maury translates La Femelle
Tartuffe, he had offended the clerical party, so that he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>
was denounced to the Inquisition, and though preserved from
their power under the protection of Godoy, he was subjected
to many and great annoyances. In consequence of these, he
determined to give up further writing for the stage, contenting
himself with producing afterwards only some translations
from the French, and with preparing his most valuable work,
‘On the Spanish Theatre.’ This work treats the subject historically,
and abounds with much interesting information as
well as sound criticisms. On it he passed the latter years of
his life, so that it was not published until after his death.</p>
<p>Shortly after his return from Italy he was named one of a
commission to reform the stage, and on this proving insufficient
for the purposes intended, he was appointed Director of
Theatres by royal order. No one, it might be thought, could
be better adapted for this office, and it would have seemed
one agreeable to his inclinations; but he declined it, preferring
to effect the reforms he recommended by example rather than
by exercise of authority.</p>
<p>The events of the 19th March, 1808, deprived Godoy of
his power, and the French armies soon after entered Madrid.
Moratin had remained at his post in the execution of the
duties of his office, and became involved in the course of proceedings,
the final character of which he could not foresee.
He was set down as one of the French party, and so exposed
to public obloquy, that when the French had to evacuate
Madrid, he felt himself under the necessity of going with
them. When they returned he returned with them, and was
appointed, by Joseph Buonaparte, Chief of the Royal Library,
an appointment which was most congenial to his taste, and
which would have been exceedingly appropriate for him to
accept, had it been only from the national government.</p>
<p>As it was, he had to fly from Madrid a second time wit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>h
the intruders, and henceforth there was nothing for him in
life but privations to endure. Some houses which he had
bought had been seized, and one of them sold. Another,
which was restored to him, had been much injured, and his
books and property destroyed. His benefices were denied
him; a merchant, with whom he had entrusted his money,
became bankrupt; and a dependent, in whom he had confided,
by his defalcation brought a further heavy loss on his means.
He had at first retired to France, but having been excepted
from the list of the proscribed by Ferdinand VII., he returned
to Spain, and for a length of time resided at Barcelona. But
the Inquisition was attempting to rise again into power, and
Moratin, naturally of a timid disposition, felt himself marked
out for a victim. He could not submit to live subject to be
watched and kept in constant alarm; and even when this
office was finally put down, he felt the frequent recurrence of
public commotions more agitating than he could endure. He
therefore determined again to retire to France, first to Bayonne,
in 1823, and afterwards to Bordeaux, to live with a
friend, named Silvela, who had a seminary at that place, and
in whose society he felt sure of enjoying domestic happiness.</p>
<p>Through his whole life, Moratin seems to have required
the aid of friends on whom to rely for daily needs and attentions;
and it was fortunate for him, in his advanced age and
under the pressure of infirmities, to possess such a resting-place
as in Silvela’s establishment. Shortly after this friend
removed to Paris, where also Moratin followed him, and there
he died, the 21st June, 1828. He was buried in the cemetery
of Père la Chaise, in one of the lines to the right of the
chapel, between the remains of Molière and Lafontaine, where
a simple monument, with a cinerary urn, marks his grave.</p>
<p><a href="#note21" title="See note">“There,” says his biographer</a>, “in a foreign land, lies a celebrated
Spaniard, to whom his country did not offer sufficient
security to allow him to die tranquilly in her bosom. A man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>
averse to all party feeling, obedient to existing authority, whether
of fact or of right, absorbed in his studies, teacher from
his retirement of the purest morality, incapable of injuring
any one, or of exciting disorder even indirectly, he had to
wander forth many years, not proscribed, but driven away by
apprehensions too justly entertained.”</p>
<p>After his death there were several editions of his works
published, both in France and Spain: the last one in the collection
of Spanish authors by Rivadeneyra, Madrid 1848, as
the last seems most correct and complete. This republication
is more interesting, as also containing, in the same volume,
the works of his father, Nicolas Moratin. It is to be regretted
that other works of his, yet existing in manuscript,
have not been added, especially the account of his travels.</p>
<p>Moratin was an exceedingly careful writer, and very fastidious
in the correction of his verses. His admirers, especially
those of the classic school, have praised him as a great lyric
poet, even superior to Melendez. This, however, he felt was
not just; and without derogating from his merits, we must
pronounce him far inferior to that eminent poet, whose works
surpassed all that had preceded him in Spanish poetry. The
fame of Moratin must rest on his plays, into which, however,
it is not the object of this work to enter, confined as it is to
lyric poetry. They are only five in number, and, like Sheridan’s,
are remarkable for neatness and elegance of dialogue,
as much as for incident and character. The Spanish theatre
owes all its subsequent merit to Moratin; he reformed the
taste of the times by giving the stage better works than it
had previously possessed, and assuredly was thus one of the
greatest public benefactors of his age.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p>
<h3>LEANDRO FERNANDEZ MORATIN.</h3>
<h4>DEDICATION OF THE COMEDY OF THE MOGIGATA
TO THE PRINCE OF THE PEACE.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">This moral fiction, which the facile Muse,</div>
<div class="verse">Thalia kind inspired, and which await</div>
<div class="verse">The numerous crowds that throng the Spanish scene,</div>
<div class="verse">Therein acquiring voice, and life, and form,</div>
<div class="verse">To thee I now present, with feelings pure</div>
<div class="verse">Of gratitude and love. By other path</div>
<div class="verse">The difficult height of Pindus to ascend,</div>
<div class="verse">In vain have I aspired, in vain; and oft</div>
<div class="verse">Have wept me baffled, o’er the bold attempt.</div>
<div class="verse">How often, striking the Aonian chords,</div>
<div class="verse">To win her have I sought, so fleeting, coy,</div>
<div class="verse">The beauty that in silence I adore!</div>
<div class="verse">To imitate the voice and harmony,</div>
<div class="verse">Which Echo erst repeated in the woods</div>
<div class="verse">Of green Zurgüen: oft as Clio waked</div>
<div class="verse">The trumpet that diffuses martial rage,</div>
<div class="verse">I wish’d, with her sublimest ardour fired,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>
<div class="verse">To celebrate the lofty deeds of Spain:</div>
<div class="verse">From her proud neck as beating, broken off,</div>
<div class="verse">The barbarous yoke; the conqueror in turn</div>
<div class="verse">Conquer’d on the burning sands of Libya:</div>
<div class="verse">Numantia with the miseries appeased,</div>
<div class="verse">Proud Rome was doom’d to know, abandon’d prey</div>
<div class="verse">To frightful military outrages:</div>
<div class="verse">Cortes, in the valley of Otumba,</div>
<div class="verse">Lord of the golden standard, at his feet</div>
<div class="verse">The sceptre of the West! but angrily,</div>
<div class="verse">Menander’s muse offended, soon reproved</div>
<div class="verse">My error, and the lyre and pastoral pipe</div>
<div class="verse">Snatch’d from me, and the clarion of Mars.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">“Follow,” she said to me, “the only track</div>
<div class="verse">Which my voice indicates, if thou wouldst seek</div>
<div class="verse">The honour, that despite of silent death,</div>
<div class="verse">May make thy name immortal. I in love</div>
<div class="verse">A thousand times upon thy infant lip</div>
<div class="verse">Have printed a soft kiss, and bade thee sleep</div>
<div class="verse">To the repeated heavenly tones I raised.</div>
<div class="verse">Thou my delight wast ever, and my care;</div>
<div class="verse">And the propitious gifts, which Nature shed</div>
<div class="verse">On thee, it was my joy to cultivate.</div>
<div class="verse">Now with loud festive acclamation sounds</div>
<div class="verse">Thy country’s scene in thy just praise, on high</div>
<div class="verse">Thy glory to affirm. Thou follow on</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>
<div class="verse">To sacred Helicon, which Cynthia bathes</div>
<div class="verse">With her immortal light, the Muses’ crown</div>
<div class="verse">Of ivy and of laurel there to gain.”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Be not offended, Sir, if e’er so poor</div>
<div class="verse">The tribute that I dedicate; and what</div>
<div class="verse">Could worthy be the greatness of thy name?</div>
<div class="verse">The gift is humble, the desire is rich;</div>
<div class="verse">And not sufficing more my sterile vein,</div>
<div class="verse">What I can give I offer. Prostrate thus,</div>
<div class="verse">On the rude altars he has raised, is wont</div>
<div class="verse">The husbandman to heap the simple fruits</div>
<div class="verse">Of his fields gather’d round; and offering them</div>
<div class="verse">To the high tutelar deity he adores,</div>
<div class="verse">Spreads them forth grateful, incenses and flowers.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h4>EPISTLE TO DON GASPAR DE JOVELLANOS,
SENT FROM ROME.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Yes! the pure friendship, that in kindly bonds</div>
<div class="verse">Our souls united, durable exists,</div>
<div class="verse">Illustrious Jovino! nor can time,</div>
<div class="verse">Nor distance, nor the mountains us between,</div>
<div class="verse">Nor stormy seas hoarse roaring, separate</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Remembrance of thee from my memory.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">The sound of Mars, that now sweet peace awhile</div>
<div class="verse">Suspends, has long unhappy silence placed</div>
<div class="verse">On my affection. Thou I know content</div>
<div class="verse">Livest in obscure delicious quietude,</div>
<div class="verse">For ever with untiring zeal inspired</div>
<div class="verse">To aid the public weal; of virtue e’er.</div>
<div class="verse">And talent, the protector and the friend.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">These verses which I frame unpolish’d, free,</div>
<div class="verse">Though not corrected with thy learned taste,</div>
<div class="verse">In truth announce to thee my constant faith.</div>
<div class="verse">And so may Heaven but soon to me return</div>
<div class="verse">The hour again to see thee, and relate</div>
<div class="verse">Familiarly discoursing, to my view</div>
<div class="verse">Whatever of its varied scenes the world</div>
<div class="verse">Presented. From my native shores to those</div>
<div class="verse">Which bathes the Seine, blood-stain’d and turbulent;</div>
<div class="verse">The daring Briton’s, master of the sea,</div>
<div class="verse">To the bold Belgian’s; from the deep-flowing Rhine</div>
<div class="verse">To the high tops of Apennine snow-crown’d,</div>
<div class="verse">And that height further, which in burning smoke</div>
<div class="verse">Covers and ashes over Naples wide,</div>
<div class="verse">The different nations I have visited,</div>
<div class="verse">Acquiring useful knowledge, never gain’d</div>
<div class="verse">By learned reading in retired abodes.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>
<div class="verse">For there we cannot see the difference great</div>
<div class="verse">Which climate, worship, arts, opinions,</div>
<div class="verse">And laws occasion. That is found alone,</div>
<div class="verse">If thou wouldst study man, in man himself.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Now the rough Winter, which augments the waves</div>
<div class="verse">Of Tiber, on his banks has me detain’d,</div>
<div class="verse">Inhabitant of Rome. O! that with thee</div>
<div class="verse">’Twere granted me to rove through her, to scan</div>
<div class="verse">The wonderful remains of glories past,</div>
<div class="verse">Which Time, whose force can naught resist, has spared!</div>
<div class="verse">Thou nursling of the Muses and the Arts,</div>
<div class="verse">Faithful oracle of bright history,</div>
<div class="verse">What learning thou wouldst give the affluent lip;</div>
<div class="verse">What images sublime, by genius fired,</div>
<div class="verse">In the great empire’s ruin thou wouldst find!</div>
<div class="verse">Fell the great city, which had triumph’d o’er</div>
<div class="verse">The nations the most warlike, and with her</div>
<div class="verse">Ended the Latin valour and renown.</div>
<div class="verse">And she who to the Betis from the Nile</div>
<div class="verse">Her eagles proudly bore, the child of Mars,</div>
<div class="verse">The Capitol with barbarous trophies deck’d,</div>
<div class="verse">Conducting to her car of ivory bound</div>
<div class="verse">Great kings subdued, amid the hoarse applause</div>
<div class="verse">Of wide-throng’d forums, and the trumpet’s sounds,</div>
<div class="verse">Who to the world gave laws, now horrible</div>
<div class="verse">Night covers her. She perish’d, nor expect</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>
<div class="verse">More tokens of her ancient worth to find.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Those mouldering edifices, which the plough</div>
<div class="verse">Breaks through in shapeless masses, once they were</div>
<div class="verse">Circuses, strong palaces, and theatres;</div>
<div class="verse">Proud arches, costly baths, and sepulchres;</div>
<div class="verse">Where thou mayst hear perchance, for so ’tis said,</div>
<div class="verse">In the deep silence of the gloomy shade,</div>
<div class="verse">A funeral lament, they only tell</div>
<div class="verse">The glory of the people of Quirinus.</div>
<div class="verse">And this to future races but remains</div>
<div class="verse">The mistress of the world, illustrious Rome!</div>
<div class="verse">This and no more remain’d? of all her arts</div>
<div class="verse">And dreaded power? What could not aught avail</div>
<div class="verse">Her virtue, wisdom, valour, all conjoin’d,</div>
<div class="verse">With such her opulence, the law severe</div>
<div class="verse">To mitigate, or stay the blows of fate?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Alas! if all is mortal—if to Time</div>
<div class="verse">Alike the strong wall and the tender flower</div>
<div class="verse">Must yield—if that will bronze and porphyry break,</div>
<div class="verse">Destroying them and burying in dust,</div>
<div class="verse">For whom so guards unhappy Avarice</div>
<div class="verse">His treasuries untouch’d? for whom foretells</div>
<div class="verse">Immortal fame, the adulation vile</div>
<div class="verse">That crimes and violence traitorous exalts?</div>
<div class="verse">For what so hastening to the tomb runs on</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>
<div class="verse">The human race, revengeful, envious,</div>
<div class="verse">And haughty? Why, if all that e’er exists,</div>
<div class="verse">And what man sees is all but ruins? all.</div>
<div class="verse">For never to return the hours fly past</div>
<div class="verse">Precipitate, and to their end but lead,</div>
<div class="verse">Of the most lofty empires of the earth,</div>
<div class="verse">The perishable splendour. The Deity,</div>
<div class="verse">That hidden animates the universe,</div>
<div class="verse">Alone eternal lives, and He alone</div>
<div class="verse">Is powerful and great.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="V">V.<br />
<span class="smaller"><a href="#note22" title="See note">JUAN BAUTISTA DE ARRIAZA.</a></span></h3>
<p>In the history of the literature of every country, it is interesting
to observe with what noiseless steps true genius generally
proceeds to win popular favour, compared with the means to
which mediocrity resorts for whatever share of notice it can
attain. There are some writers who, with great talent, have
some counterbalancing deficiency, respecting whose merits
more discussion will be consequently excited, than respecting
the superior qualities of others, not liable to the same observations.
To obtain that kind of notoriety, it is often requisite
to belong to some school or party, whose praise will give a
temporary importance to works written, according to their
taste or system, while those out of their pale will be passed
over with at best only cold commendations. In Spain, as elsewhere,
poetry has had its classical and romantic schools, and
the merits of all writers, belonging to one or the other of
them, were fully set forth by their respective partisans; while,
if there happened to be one who could not be claimed by
either, like Arriaza, he was allowed to pass comparatively
unnoticed by the critics of the day.</p>
<p>Of this very pleasing author no detailed biography has
been published; and his claims to be considered one of the
first modern poets of Spain seem to be scarcely recogn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>ized by
his countrymen, who read with surprise the commendations
passed on him abroad. Thus they have allowed seven editions
of his works to be circulated and exhausted, without
satisfying our curiosity by any of those particulars of private
life, with which we love to consider the characters of worth
and genius. All we are informed of him, in the short notices
given of Arriaza by Wolf, Maury and Ochoa, is, that he was
born at Madrid, in the year 1770, where the last-mentioned
writer also says he died, in 1837.</p>
<p>From his name, it would seem that he was of Basque descent,
and his family connections must have been “noble”
and influential, from his career through life, though we have
no account given of them. We learn, however, that he was
educated at the Seminary of Nobles at Madrid, whence he
was afterwards sent a cadet to the Military College at Segovia,
and that he finally entered the navy. In one of his
Epistles, in verse, he informs us that he was engaged in the
expedition to Oran, and thence sailed to Constantinople, of
which he gives a poetical description.</p>
<p>In 1798 he had to quit this service, on account of a disease
of the eyes; and he then published the first edition of his
poems. In 1802 he was appointed Secretary of Legation at
London, and there wrote his principal poem, ‘Emilia,’ which
was published at Madrid in the year following. The subject
was the wish of a lady of fortune to bring up orphan children
and others to the study of the fine arts; and it contains
many fine passages, but was left unfinished.</p>
<p>In 1805 he went to Paris, where also he resided some time.
On his return to Spain, he took part in the struggles against
the French, having entered the ranks as a soldier, and having
by his verses also vehemently instigated his countrymen to
rise against the invaders. Of all the poets of the day,
he seems to have been the most prolific in those patriotic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
effusions, which, no doubt, agreeing so well with the national
temperament, had no small effect in keeping up the spirit of
the Spanish people throughout the war. When the French
entered Madrid, Arriaza, while engaged in resisting them,
had a brother killed by his side, fighting in the same cause,
to whose memory he has given a tribute of affection accordingly
among his verses.</p>
<p>In the subsequent discussions in Spain respecting the government,
Arriaza took part with those who advocated the
rights of the absolute king. For this advocacy, on the return
of Ferdinand VII. to full power, he received his reward,
having been appointed Knight of the Order of Charles III.,
and Secretary of Decrees, besides receiving several other minor
favours and offices. Henceforth Arriaza seems to have passed
his life at court, in the quiet enjoyment of literary pursuits.
He might be considered the Poet Laureate of Spain, as he
seems to have allowed scarcely any opportunity to pass by
unhonoured, of paying homage to the court in celebration
of birthdays and other such occasions. His works abound
with these loyal effusions, though they might generally have
been better omitted.</p>
<p>It must, however, be said, in justice, that he was evidently
sincere in those principles, to which he adhered under all
circumstances, even when the Constitutionalists were in the
ascendent. Once only he was betrayed into an eulogium of
the other line of opinions, which had an effect rather ludicrous,
so far as he was concerned in it. In 1820, when the
constitution of 1812 had been anew promulgated, a friend of
his, Don Luis de Onis, was appointed minister from Spain to
Naples, and a banquet having been given him on his departure,
Arriaza was induced to write verses on the occasion,
which, full of apparent enthusiasm, abounded in spirit and
beautiful images, beyond his usual facility and fuln<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>ess of expression.
Carried away, no doubt, by the contagion of the
company, he gave way to what, in soberer mood, he would have
thought most dangerous doctrines. He painted the envoy as
going “to Parthenope to announce our revolution;” adding,
“To Parthenope that is now groaning beneath flowery chains,
and to whom, though her syrens celebrate her in songs of
slavery, thou wilt be the Spanish Tyrtæus, and raise them to
the high employ to sing of country and virtue;” praising the
heroism of Riego as to be offered as an example, “to throw
down the holds of oppression.” The Neapolitan government
obtained notice of this composition, and actually used it as
sufficient cause for objecting to receive Don Luis as Spanish
minister, “because he was coming to inculcate revolutionary
principles.” Arriaza heard with horror that he was stigmatized
as a liberal, and was urgent to disclaim such opinions, notwithstanding
what he had written. Don Luis meanwhile
was detained at Rome, until, by a strange coincidence, the
revolution broke out at Naples also, and he entered the city
almost as in fulfilment of the prophecy, that he was to be the
harbinger of it.</p>
<p>The best edition of Arriaza’s works is that of 1829, printed
at the Royal Press of Madrid, of which the one of Paris, 1834,
is a reprint. They consist of almost all varieties of song, and
are almost all equally charming. His satirical pieces even
are light and pleasing, as well as his anacreontic and erotic
effusions, while his patriotic songs and odes breathe a spirit
well suited to the subjects.</p>
<p>Maury, who has made him better known abroad by his
praises than others, his contemporaries, seems to have regarded
him with especial favour. He says of him:—“Depuis Lope de
Vega, M. d’Arriaza est le seul de nos poëtes qui nous semble
penser en vers. La nature le fit poëte, les évènements l’ont
fait auteur. Il était arrivé à sa réputation littéraire sans<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> y
prétendre, il l’accrue pour ainsi dire à son corps défendant.”
In truth he seems to have poured forth his verses without effort,
as a bird does its song, with a simplicity and truthfulness
which went to the heart of the hearer, and left in it a sensation
of their being only the echoes of its own. As Maury has well
observed, “parlent à la raison et à l’esprit, comme au cœur
et à l’imagination, elles offrent en même temps aux amateurs
de la langue Castillane les sons harmonieux et les tournures
piquantes qui la distinguent avec une grande élégance de
diction et une clarté rare chez la plupart de nos écrivains.”</p>
<p>It is true that his style is exceedingly easy, and the expression
generally very clear, but it must also be acknowledged,
on the part of the translator, that obscurities are
frequently to be found in his lines, when he must discover a
meaning for himself. It was Arriaza’s own doctrine in the
prologue to his works, “that there can be no true expression
of ideas where there does not reign the utmost clearness of
diction; that what the reader does not conceive at the first
simple reading, cannot make in his imagination the prompt
effect required, and much less move his heart in any way.
This clearness,” he observes, “should also be associated with a
constant elegance of expression; though he does not consider
this elegance to consist in a succession of grammatical inversions,
or revolving adjectives, or metaphor on metaphor,
but the mode most select and noble of saying things becomingly
to the style in which they are written.”</p>
<p>Arriaza was eminently what the French call a <i lang="fr">poëte de
société</i>; and thus his verses were favourites with the higher
classes particularly. He abjured the practices of the Romanticists
who affected to despise the shackles of metre, as if the
melody of verse, being merely mechanism, were of inferior
consideration. On the contrary, he intimates that he considers
it of primary importance, as if “whether a statue should <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>be
made of wax or marble.” Thus he made cadence a principal
study, and his verses becoming thereby better adapted for
music, obtained greater vogue in the higher circles by means
of accompaniments. Some even seem to have been expressly
written for that purpose; for instance, among other pieces of
a domestic character, one, a very pleasing Recitative, in which
his wife and daughter join him in thanksgiving for his recovery
from a dangerous illness. Though generally far from
being impassioned, some of his verses are full of tender feeling,
as the ‘Young Sailor’s Farewell.’ This may be pronounced
the most popular piece of modern poetry in Spain,
being most in the memories of those whom he himself calls
“the natural judges in these matters, the youth of both
sexes, in whose lively imagination and sensible hearts may
find better acceptation, the only two gifts with which I may
rejoice to have endowed my verses, naturalness and harmony.”</p>
<p>Arriaza must have acquired in his youth the rudiments of
a sound education, and he was distinguished in later life for
a knowledge of the French, Italian and English languages.
Still he was not considered by his contemporaries as a person
of extensive reading; and thus we do not find in his works
any allusions or illustrations of a classical character, though
it is almost ludicrous to observe with what pertinacity he
introduces the personages of the heathen mythology, on all
occasions where he can do so. Some of his ideas also run
into the ridiculous, as in one of his best pieces, ‘La Profecia
del Pirineo,’ he says, that on the heroic defenders of Zaragoza
“there were at once on their faithful brows raining bombs
and laurels.”</p>
<p>The Ode to Trafalgar, notwithstanding its being liable to
the observation above made, of too frequent invocations of
the Muses, is an admirable exemplification of an appropri<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>ate
poem on such a subject. This battle, no doubt on account
of its decisive effect, has been more celebrated than others.
But it must be acknowledged to have been an unequal fight
between the British and the Spanish portion of the allied
fleet, as the former were in a high state of discipline, and the
latter were newly levied and hurried out of port, before the
officers and men had become sufficiently acquainted with one
another to take their respective parts, with the precision
necessary for such an occasion. Yet it is well known that
the Spaniards fought with desperate and unswerving courage
throughout, and their poets were therefore well warranted in
taking the subject, as one doing honour to the national
bravery.</p>
<p>The circumstances of the battle have lately again come
into discussion in Spain, with naturally considerable warmth,
on M. Thiers, in his History of the Consulate and the Empire,
having been guilty of the extraordinary error to allege
that the Spanish fleet fled, the greater part of them, from
the battle, when, in fact, it was only the division of the
French Admiral Dumanoir that had done so. This he did
“for the purpose of preserving a naval division for France,”
as Dumanoir himself afterwards stated, in his justification,
though he was disappointed in that patriotic wish, having
been met a few days after by Sir Robert Calder’s squadron,
when all his four ships were taken in a less renowned combat.</p>
<p>The translation of the Ode has been made as nearly into
the same metre with the original, as the forms of verse used
in the two languages would admit. That of the ‘Farewell’
may be considered in the same light also, though the original
has the first and fourth lines rhyming together, and the second
with the third. This is an old and common form in Spanish
poetry, and agrees well with our alternate lines of eight and
six syllables, which Johnson considered “the most soft an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>d
pleasing of our lyric measures.” In the Ode, it is interesting
to observe not only the manly style of sentiment throughout,
but also the absence of any ungenerous feeling against the
English. Arriaza had, however, both as a seaman and a diplomatist,
while resident in England, had sufficient opportunities
of learning to think more justly of the English character
than some other writers of the Continent.</p>
<p>Beyond his poems, Arriaza wrote several political pamphlets.
The first was published at Seville in 1809, after the
battle of Talavera, when the English, notwithstanding the
victory, had to retreat into Portugal, giving occasion to the
French party in Spain to allege that they were about to
abandon the country to the French, and keep possession of
the principal ports. In this pamphlet, which he entitled the
‘Pharos of Public Opinion,’ Arriaza combated these suspicions,
and by a strenuous assertion of the good faith of the
English, succeeded in disabusing the minds of his countrymen
of what he termed “such malignant insinuations.”</p>
<p>The second pamphlet he termed ‘Virtue of Necessity,’
shortly after the disastrous battle of Ocania; and its object
was to stimulate the English government and nation to give
more assistance than they had yet done, by money and otherwise.
He proposed in return to give the English free right
of commerce with the Spanish colonies in America, at least
for a stated period, observing that they already had extensive
dealings with them by contraband, and that the free commerce
would make the English neutral, at least, in the question
of the colonies wishing to declare themselves independent,
while otherwise it would be their interest to have them independent.
This pamphlet especially is full of sound statesmanlike
ideas, and proves how well he was acquainted with
the state of public feeling in England, on the several particulars
respecting which he was writing.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p>
<p>A third pamphlet he wrote in English, and published it in
London in 1810, where he was then sent on the part of the
Spanish government. This he entitled ‘Observations on the
system of war of the Allies in the Peninsula;’ and he endeavoured
in it to urge the English to send more troops to the
Peninsula, at certain points, where he considered they would
be of most avail in disconcerting the plans of the French, and
assisting the Guerrilla warfare the Spaniards were carrying
on. He explained the determined fidelity of the Spaniards
to the cause of their independence, but showed they would
be insufficient to effect it, without the assistance he came to
seek. This pamphlet was favourably received in England,
and was noticed in Parliament; and the author had the good
fortune to hope that his efforts had been successful, as he
says, “The English government then sent greater reinforcements
to their army, which emerging from its inaction,
acquired the superiority preserved until the happy conclusion
of the war.”</p>
<p>For these and other writings, Arriaza received the thanks
of the Regency in the name of the king, and had just cause
to consider that a sufficient counterbalance to the misrepresentations
made of his conduct in France, and elsewhere, by
the opposite party. In a note affixed to the last edition of
his poems, he complains that in a work published in France,
‘Biography of Contemporary Characters,’ there was an article
respecting him “full of errors, even regarding the most public
circumstances of his life,” which he seems to have considered
written from party feeling. If his surmises were correct, it
is the more to be regretted that he did not take the best
means of correcting those misrepresentations, by giving an
authentic biographical account of his career in reply. He might
thus not only have done justice to himself, but also have
satisfied the desires of his admirers, who would naturally have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>
felt sufficient interest in his fame to have rejoiced in those
details. Whatever may be the course which a man of genius
takes in public life from honest principles, he may always
rely on finding in literature a neutral harbour where he may
retire in confidence from all turmoils, and expect full justice
awarded to his motives and memory. In the midst of political
contentions, where so much always depends on circumstances
with which we are little acquainted, it is often difficult
at the time to know what is the proper course to follow.
It is enough for us that those we admire have ever been distinguished
for their sincerity and uprightness in the conduct
they pursued.</p>
<p>With regard to Arriaza, our greatest regret must be that,
with his apparently extreme facility of versification, and capability
of elevating his mind to the conception of nobler subjects,
he confined his genius so much to trivial events of the
day, and thus wrote for his contemporaries instead of for
posterity.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p>
<h3>JUAN BAUTISTA DE ARRIAZA.</h3>
<h4>TEMPEST AND WAR,
OR
THE BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR.
ODE.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I fain would sing of victory;</div>
<div class="verse">But know, the God of harmony,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Dispenser of renown,</div>
<div class="verse">For fortune’s turn has little care,</div>
<div class="verse">And bids superior valour bear,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Alone, the immortal crown.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">See in his temple, shining yet,</div>
<div class="verse">Those at Thermopylæ who set</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of manly fortitude</div>
<div class="verse">Examples rare, or ’neath thy wall</div>
<div class="verse">Who, sad Numantia, shared thy fall,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But falling unsubdued.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">There are to whom has fate bestow’d</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>
<div class="verse">The lot, that always on the road</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of docile laurels borne,</div>
<div class="verse">Success should fly their steps before,</div>
<div class="verse">And in their hands events in store</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Should lose each cruel thorn.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">As heroes these the vulgar choose,</div>
<div class="verse">If not as gods, but I refuse</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Such homage for the mind;</div>
<div class="verse">And in Bellona’s doubtful strife,</div>
<div class="verse">Where fortune’s angry frowns are rife,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">There heroes seek to find.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O! true of heart, and brave as true!</div>
<div class="verse">Illustrious Clio, turn thy view</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Afar the vast seas o’er;</div>
<div class="verse">For deeds, in spite of fate abhorr’d,</div>
<div class="verse">Than these more worthy to record</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Ne’er pass’d thy view before.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">To abase the wealthy Gades, see,</div>
<div class="verse">From haunts of deep obscurity,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The fellest Fury rise!</div>
<div class="verse">And from her direful hand launch’d forth,</div>
<div class="verse">Transform’d the forests of the North,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">She floating walls supplies.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Her envy is the city fair</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Of Hercules, so proudly there,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Couch’d on the Atlantic gates;</div>
<div class="verse">Girt by the sea, that from the west</div>
<div class="verse">Comes fraught with gold, and her behest</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Before her bending waits.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">With venal aid of hate assists</div>
<div class="verse">Unfruitful England, throne of mists,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Whose fields no sun behold;</div>
<div class="verse">Which Flora with false smile has clad</div>
<div class="verse">In sterile green, where flowers look sad,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And love itself is cold.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Greedy the poison gold to seize,</div>
<div class="verse">They with the monster Avarice,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The peace of Spain abhor;</div>
<div class="verse">And by their horrid arts increased,</div>
<div class="verse">Turn ev’n the treasures of the East</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To instruments of war.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Their proud Armada, which the main</div>
<div class="verse">Tosses to heaven, or threats in vain</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To engulf, they mustering show:</div>
<div class="verse">Ye suffer it not, ye pupils brave</div>
<div class="verse">Of the Basans, and to the wave</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Launch yours to meet the foe.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">As by conflicting winds close driven,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
<div class="verse">The dark clouds o’er the vault of heaven</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Across each other fly;</div>
<div class="verse">And troubling mortals with the roar,</div>
<div class="verse">The electric fluids flashing o’er</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Dispute the sway on high,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">So from both sides the battle roll’d,</div>
<div class="verse">The sails their wings of flame unfold,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And ship to ship they close;</div>
<div class="verse">Combined, O! day of hapless fame,</div>
<div class="verse">Four elements with man proclaim</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The unequal war that rose.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Who in the whirlwind of dense smoke,</div>
<div class="verse">To Mars that in fit incense woke,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">From hollow ordnance sent,</div>
<div class="verse">With iron flames, a countless host,</div>
<div class="verse">Sounds that unhinging shaking cross’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The eternal firmament,—</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Who in that lake of fire and blood,</div>
<div class="verse">Midst crashing masts and raging flood</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of havoc and its train,—</div>
<div class="verse">Who by the light the picture shows,</div>
<div class="verse">May not your blood-stain’d brows disclose,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">O! noble chiefs of Spain?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">With crimson dyed, or with the brand</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Of sulphurous powder, firm ye stand,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As in the conflict dire,</div>
<div class="verse">The sacrilegious giants rear’d,</div>
<div class="verse">Serene the shining gods appear’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Midst rolling clouds of fire.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Shouts forth your courage hoarsely high</div>
<div class="verse">Bellona’s metal roar, the cry</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The combat to inflame;</div>
<div class="verse">Nor fear ye mortals, when ye view</div>
<div class="verse">The streams of blood the waves imbue,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Your prowess that proclaim.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">With iron clogg’d the air, the breath</div>
<div class="verse">Is drawn each with a dart of Death,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Whose skeleton immense</div>
<div class="verse">Rises exulting o’er the scene,</div>
<div class="verse">To see such fury rage, and glean</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His devastation thence.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O! how he crops youth’s fairest flowers,</div>
<div class="verse">Or grief o’er life for ever lowers!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">See there for vengeance strains</div>
<div class="verse">One arm for one that off is torn,</div>
<div class="verse">Or when away the head is borne,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Erect the trunk remains.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But, ah! what fiery column broke</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>
<div class="verse">There to the wind, and mid dense smoke</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Then to the abyss down threw</div>
<div class="verse">Heads, bodies, arms and woods confused,</div>
<div class="verse">And hands yet with the swords unloosed</div>
<div class="verse indent1">They for their country drew!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Struck by the sound groans Trafalgar;</div>
<div class="verse">Olympus shakes as in the war</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The savage Titans waged,</div>
<div class="verse">When through the waves their forges roll’d</div>
<div class="verse">Ætna, Vesuvius, and untold</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Volcanoes burning raged.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Trembling the monsters of the deep</div>
<div class="verse">Against each other beating, sweep</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Off to the Herculean Strait;</div>
<div class="verse">In horror heaven is clouded o’er,</div>
<div class="verse">Lashing the seas the north winds roar,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In shame infuriate.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Of its own rage, the foaming brine,</div>
<div class="verse">Is born the tempest, fearful sign</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of more disastrous night;</div>
<div class="verse">Mars at the view restrains his cry;</div>
<div class="verse">Bark Scylla and Charybdis high,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The fiends whom wrecks delight.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Swift as a thunderbolt ye come,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>
<div class="verse">The unhappy relics to consume</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of fire, ye winds and waves!</div>
<div class="verse">O, Night! who may thy fearfulness,</div>
<div class="verse">Thy vast amount of woes express,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Without the tear it craves!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Yield to the cruel element</div>
<div class="verse">At length the ships, that long unbent</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Its haughtiest rage defied;</div>
<div class="verse">Men sink yet living, and for e’er</div>
<div class="verse">Closes o’er them their sepulchre,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The insatiable tide.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Save him, Minerva! who around</div>
<div class="verse">From East to West, the earth’s wide bound,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Was happier once thy care!</div>
<div class="verse">Urania, this thy votary save!</div>
<div class="verse">O, Love! how many fond hearts crave</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That one’s last sigh to share!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Some to their much-loved country swim,</div>
<div class="verse">That horror-struck retires, and dim</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In quicksands seems to fly;</div>
<div class="verse">Hid by the waves them death unveils,</div>
<div class="verse">And to the wreck’d-worn seamen’s wails</div>
<div class="verse indent1">They only fierce reply.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Never may Time, in his long flight,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Join day more terrible and night:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But who in such a strife,</div>
<div class="verse">Who constant overcame such fate,</div>
<div class="verse">Where may we danger find so great</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For dauntless heart in life?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O, Clio! where? yet midst that rage,</div>
<div class="verse">With golden pen and deathless page,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thou lovest the brave to greet;</div>
<div class="verse">Gravina, Alava, each name</div>
<div class="verse">Write, and Escanio’s, echoes fame</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Olympic will repeat.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And others, but my voice repels</div>
<div class="verse">The love that in my memory dwells;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">O, Cosmo! hard thy lot!</div>
<div class="verse">O, Muses! him the laurels give,</div>
<div class="verse">Whose friend is only left to live,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And weep him unforgot.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Tried adverse fortune to endure,</div>
<div class="verse">Your valour proved sublime and pure,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">O, Mariners of Spain!</div>
<div class="verse">Your life your country’s shield and strength,</div>
<div class="verse">Defended and avenged at length,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">She will be yet again.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The Lion and the Eagle yet</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>
<div class="verse">May have them Neptune’s arm abet,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Now England’s slave and boast;</div>
<div class="verse">Who from her lofty poops shall view</div>
<div class="verse">Your troops resistless pouring through</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In torrents on her coast.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Suffice it now, as tribute paid,</div>
<div class="verse">Her great Chief’s death; the Thames to shade,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Doubling with grief her gloom:</div>
<div class="verse">That cover’d thus with honour’d scars,</div>
<div class="verse">She sees you wait, in happier wars,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The combat to resume.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Ye go, as on the Libyan shore</div>
<div class="verse">The lion walks, that fiercely tore</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The hunter’s cunning snare;</div>
<div class="verse">That not ingloriously o’erborne,</div>
<div class="verse">Calmly and fear’d, though bleeding, worn—</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Regains his sandy lair.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p>
<h4>THE PARTING.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Sylvia! the cruel moment’s near,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When I must say farewell!</div>
<div class="verse">For hark! the cannon’s sounds we hear</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of my departure tell.</div>
<div class="verse">Thy lover comes to give thee now</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The last adieu, and part!</div>
<div class="verse">With sorrow overcast his brow,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And sorrowful his heart.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Come, object of my love divine!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Reach me those beauteous arms:</div>
<div class="verse">Would fate my happy lot assign</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My home and rest thy charms,</div>
<div class="verse">The blow that threatens its decree</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To give, I should not meet;</div>
<div class="verse">For sooner then than part, ’twould see</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Me dying at thy feet.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O! had our passion equal force,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or been of equal growth,</div>
<div class="verse">The grief of absence might its course</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Divide between us both!</div>
<div class="verse">But thou a face indifferent,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or pleased, dost give to view,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Whilst I have not ev’n breath content</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To say to thee, Adieu.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">A gentle river murmuring by,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In calmness bathes the plain,</div>
<div class="verse">And of its waters the supply</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Sees beauteous flowers attain;</div>
<div class="verse">In silence thou, my lonely grief,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Dost bathe my wretched breast,</div>
<div class="verse">And Sylvia’s pity in relief</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For me canst not arrest.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But what, my Sylvia, dost thou say?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">What means that tender sigh?</div>
<div class="verse">Why do I see, mid tears that stray,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Shine forth thy beaming eye?</div>
<div class="verse">As opens to the sun opposed</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On some clear day the cloud,</div>
<div class="verse">And his rays make the drops disclosed</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To sparkle as they flow’d.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">On me dost thou those languid eyes</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Turn with that tender gaze?</div>
<div class="verse">Loses thy cheek its rosy dyes,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Nor beauty less displays?</div>
<div class="verse">Thy ruby lips a moment brief</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thou opest, and sorrow seals!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
<div class="verse">How fair the very show of grief</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Itself in thee reveals!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Insensate! how I wildly thought</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My bitter griefs would gain</div>
<div class="verse">Some ease, if thou wert also taught</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A portion of my pain!</div>
<div class="verse">Pardon the error that deceived,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">O, Sylvia! I implore;</div>
<div class="verse">Me more thy sorrow now has grieved,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Than thy disdain before.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">My bliss! I pray no more to swerve!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Calm those heart-breaking pains:</div>
<div class="verse">Thy grief to have, does not deserve</div>
<div class="verse indent1">All that the world contains.</div>
<div class="verse">May all life’s hours, in calm serene,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Be ever pass’d by thee;</div>
<div class="verse">And all that darker intervene</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Reserved alone for me!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">For me, whose lonely wretched doom</div>
<div class="verse indent1">By heaven has been decreed</div>
<div class="verse">To bear fate’s cruelty and gloom,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Wherever it may lead.</div>
<div class="verse">But not on thee, so lovely born,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Form’d of a power divine,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>
<div class="verse">To hold ev’n fate a subject sworn</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To every will of thine.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Whilst thou my absence mayst lament,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thy comfort mayst descry,</div>
<div class="verse">By fate a thousand lovers sent</div>
<div class="verse indent1">More to thy choice than I.</div>
<div class="verse">Some one she pleases me above</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To favour chance may show;</div>
<div class="verse">But one to love thee as I love,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That none can ever know.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">’Twas not thy graces won my heart,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Nor yet thy faultless face;</div>
<div class="verse">But ’twas some sympathy apart</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I might from birth retrace.</div>
<div class="verse">I long a picture loved to draw</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of charms I fancied true,</div>
<div class="verse">And thy perfections when I saw,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The original I knew.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">No traveller upon the ground</div>
<div class="verse indent1">By sudden lightning thrown,</div>
<div class="verse">The blow could more at once confound,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Left helpless and alone,</div>
<div class="verse">Than I to see that beauteous brow,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In hapless love was lost;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>
<div class="verse">At thy feet forced at once to bow,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To adore whate’er the cost.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But I depart, alas! the pain</div>
<div class="verse indent1">No words can e’er express;</div>
<div class="verse">Heaven only knows it that can scan</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The inmost heart’s recess;</div>
<div class="verse">And saw the hours of deep delight,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">So full now long pass’d by,</div>
<div class="verse">That all my wishes’ utmost height</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Heap’d up could satisfy.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Now while the breezes fair avail,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The waves are gently stirr’d,</div>
<div class="verse">And of the mariners the hail</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Confused afar is heard:</div>
<div class="verse">Now from the deep’s tenacious hold</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The anchor’s fangs they heave,</div>
<div class="verse">And all conspiring are enroll’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Me swifter death to give.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Now with a vacillating foot</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The slender boat I tread,</div>
<div class="verse">Soon destined from the bank to shoot,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As to the great bark sped.</div>
<div class="verse">Sylvia, in this sad moment’s pause,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">O! what a mournful crowd</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Of thoughts around thy lover close,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To assault him and o’ercloud!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The sweet requital in return</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thou givest my love I know;</div>
<div class="verse">And kind remembrances discern</div>
<div class="verse indent1">All thy affections show;</div>
<div class="verse">Whilst here each proof assures me well</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That naught thy heart can move;</div>
<div class="verse">But in my absence, who can tell</div>
<div class="verse indent1">If thou wilt faithful prove?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">For those divine attractions whence</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Now all my joys arise,</div>
<div class="verse">Perhaps may fate the cause dispense</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of all my miseries;</div>
<div class="verse">And whilst I absent and forlorn</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My pledges lost deplore,</div>
<div class="verse">Some rival gains of me in scorn</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The enchantments I adore!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But no, my bliss, my glory! ne’er</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Were given the winds in vain</div>
<div class="verse">Those vows, which envied me to share</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The universe my gain.</div>
<div class="verse">Let us time’s tyranny defy,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And distance, constant thus</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Remaining in that changeless tie,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That then united us.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">When rises first the beamy sun,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When sets his beauteous ray,</div>
<div class="verse">When moon and stars their courses run,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On thee my thoughts will stay.</div>
<div class="verse">From that enchanting form my heart</div>
<div class="verse indent1">No moment will be free;</div>
<div class="verse">And traitress thou, when I depart</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Wilt ne’er ev’n think of me!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">At lonely hours across my thought</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Gulf’d in the ocean vast,</div>
<div class="verse">The scenes to memory will be brought</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With thee I saw and pass’d.</div>
<div class="verse">Then will my sorrows make me feel</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My lot more dark to be,</div>
<div class="verse">And thou more cruel than the steel</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Wilt ne’er ev’n think of me!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“There first her matchless form I saw;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">There first my faith I swore;</div>
<div class="verse">And from her flattering lips could draw</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The happy ‘Yes’ they wore!”</div>
<div class="verse">As these reflections by me file,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Rise griefs in like degree;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>
<div class="verse">And thou, who knows, if thou the while</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Wilt e’er ev’n think of me?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Then as I hours of glory call</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Those when I thee beheld;</div>
<div class="verse">And of my griefs the sources all</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When from thy sight repell’d;</div>
<div class="verse">A thousand times the thoughts enhance</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The doom ’tis mine to see,</div>
<div class="verse">Meanwhile who knows, if thou perchance</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Wilt e’er ev’n think of me?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">When in the heavens I view unfurl’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The awful signs arise,</div>
<div class="verse">With which the Ruler of the world</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Poor mortals terrifies;</div>
<div class="verse">When sounds are in the deepest caves</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of horrid thunderings nigh,</div>
<div class="verse">And of the seas the troubled waves</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Rage furiously on high;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">When by the south wind is impell’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The proud Tyrrhenian main,</div>
<div class="verse">As if from its deep bosom swell’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To assault the starry train;</div>
<div class="verse">When the despairing steersman turns</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To prayer, instead of skill,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Seeing his bark the ocean spurns</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The plaything of its will;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Amid the hoarse and troubled cries</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The people raise around,</div>
<div class="verse">While shines the sword before their eyes</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of death, to strike them bound;</div>
<div class="verse">Ev’n then will I my love’s farewell</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In that dark hour renew,</div>
<div class="verse">And to the winds my sighs shall tell—</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Sylvia! my life, Adieu!</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="VI">VI.<br />
<span class="smaller">MANUEL JOSÈ QUINTANA.</span></h3>
<p>Connecting the present age of modern Spanish poetry with
that of the past generation, by a happily protracted existence,
as well as by the style and tone of his writings, the venerable
subject of this memoir still survives, to close a life of active
usefulness in a healthy and honoured old age.</p>
<p>Quintana was born at Madrid, the 11th April, 1772, of
a respectable family of Estremadura. He received his primary
education in classical learning at Cordova, whence he
proceeded to Salamanca, and graduated there in canon and
civil law. In this university he had the advantage of studying
under Melendez Valdes, by whom he was soon favourably
noticed, and was made known to the illustrious Jovellanos,
by whose counsels also he had the good fortune to be assisted.
Thus his natural disposition for the study of elegant literature
was encouraged, both by precept and example, under two
such able directors, to take a higher course than the mere
study of law, for which profession he was destined.</p>
<p>Having been admitted an Advocate of the Supreme Court,
he has held various appointments, as fiscal of the tribunal
of commerce, and censor of theatres; afterwards chief clerk
of the Secretary-General to the Central Junta of Government,
secretary of decrees and interpretation of languages, membe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>r
of the censorship to the Cortes, and of the commission for
the formation of a new plan of education. In the last, he
was charged with the duty of drawing up a report of all the
works on the subject presented to the government, which
was, in 1835, approved of by the Cortes.</p>
<p>In the two former of these employments he was interrupted
by the French invasion, when he took an active part against
the invaders. Receiving afterwards the other offices mentioned,
he wrote many of the proclamations and other addresses which
were put forth on the part of the national government, during
the struggle for independence. Throughout those eventful
times, he was in the most advanced rank of the party that
advocated constitutional rights, so that when Ferdinand VII.
returned to the possession of absolute power, in 1814, he
was, amongst the proscribed, made a prisoner, and confined in
the castle of Pamplona.</p>
<p>There he was kept six years, without being allowed to communicate
with his friends, or make use of his pen. On the
constitutional government becoming re-established, he was
released, and restored to his offices as secretary for the interpretation
of languages, and member of the board of censors.
In 1821, the directorship-general of public education having
been formed, he was made president, until 1823, when the
constitution was again set aside, and he was again deprived
of his employments.</p>
<p>Hereupon Quintana retired to Estremadura to his family,
and lived there till the end of 1828, when he was permitted
to return to Madrid, to continue his labours and literary
studies. The following year he was named member of the
board for the museum of natural sciences, and in 1833 was re-established
in his former employment, as secretary for interpretations
for which his knowledge of the French, English
and other languages rendered him qualified, and also reapp<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>ointed
president of the council of public instruction. He
was shortly after appointed preceptor to her present Majesty,
Queen Isabel II., and although ever maintaining strong liberal
principles, has been since, under the administration of
Narvaez, named a senator of the kingdom.</p>
<p>Quintana first appeared as an author in 1795, when he
published a small volume of poems, among which was an Ode
to the Sea, considered one of his best compositions. The
greater part, however, of them were of unequal merit, and
those have been omitted in subsequent editions: the next
one was published in 1802, and it has been reprinted with
additions several times. The best and most complete edition
of his poetical works was published at Madrid, in 1820, in
two volumes, entitled, ‘Poems, including the patriotic odes
and tragedies, the Duke of Viseo, and Pelayo.’ Of this edition
five or six surreptitious reprints have been made at Bordeaux
and elsewhere, the laws regarding copyright having only
lately been made accordant with justice in Spain as regards
authors, though they do not yet extend them protection
against piratical republications from abroad.</p>
<p>The tragedy of the ‘Duke of Viseo,’ imitated from the English,
the ‘Castle Spectre’ of Lewis, was brought forward in
1801, and that of ‘Pelayo’ in 1805. The latter, on a favourite
subject of their ancient history, was received with much
favour by his countrymen, as were also many of his patriotic
odes and poems, written in a spirit accordant with the national
feeling. Most of these were at the time inserted in two
periodical works he had under his direction; the first, ‘Variedades
de Ciencias, Literatura y Artes,’ and the second, the
‘Seminario Patriotico,’ which was of a political character,
and established to promote, and sustain the spirit of independence,
against the French invasion.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p>
<p>Beyond his original poems, Quintana has done an important
service to Spanish literature by publishing ‘A Collection
of select Spanish Poetry,’ altogether in six volumes,
Madrid, 1830-33, with critical and biographical notices, reprinted
in Paris by Baudry, 1838. These notices are written in
a tone of great impartiality and fairness, and are preceded by
a Dissertation, as an Introduction, on the History of Spanish
Poetry, which, written as it is with eminent ability, Mr.
Wiffen has shown great judgement in translating, prefixed to
his very correct and elegant version of the works of Garcilasso
de la Vega, London, 1823. Besides this valuable collection
of Spanish poetry, Quintana has favoured the public with a
work in three volumes,—‘Lives of celebrated Spaniards,’ of
which the first volume was published in 1807, the other two
in 1830 and 1833 respectively.</p>
<p>The first volume, which has been translated into English
by Mr. Preston, London, 1823, contains the lives of the
earlier heroes of Spanish history,—the Cid Campeador,
Guzman the Good, Roger de Lauria, the Prince of Viana,
and Gonzalo de Cordova; all bearing impressions of the enthusiastic
and poetic feelings, characteristic of the comparatively
youthful period of life at which they were written. It
was Quintana’s intention to have proceeded with a series of
like biographies; but the subsequent public events, in which
he had to take so active a part, interrupted the task, and
when he resumed it, after the lapse of twenty years, it was
under the influence of other feelings. He then proceeded
principally with the lives of persons distinguished in American
history; the second volume containing those of Vasco Nunez
de Balboa and Francisco Pizarro; and the third volume those
of Alvaro de Luna, and Bartolome de las Casas. Of these
two volumes, the former has been translated into English by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>
Mrs. Hobson, Edinburgh, 1832; and of the third a translation
has been announced, London, 1851; both, and the latter
especially, well deserving of study.</p>
<p>In the first volume, treating of heroes, whose history,
almost lost in the obscurity of remote times, might be considered
among the fabulous legends prevailing everywhere in
the first formations of society, it seemed only appropriate to
give a colouring of poetry, to characters of whose actions
nothing could be judged, except by their outward bearing.
But in the others he could write as a philosophic historian,
inquiring into the motives of actions, and teaching lessons of
public morality by individual examples. The life of Alvaro
is thus particularly interesting, depicting the caprices of
fortune, as they affect</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">The wish indulged in courts to shine,</div>
<div class="verse">And power too great to keep or to resign.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class="noindent">In the other lives he maintains the high tone of feeling
shown in his beautiful Ode to Balmis, the philanthropic
introducer of vaccination into America, where the ravages of
the disease, so graphically <a href="#note23" title="See note">described by Humboldt</a>, had made
this benefit more peculiarly desirable.</p>
<p>The generous sentiments expressed in this ode are such
as to do honour not only to Quintana, but also to the nation,
where they are in the present generation adopted, as we find
them repeated emphatically by <a href="#note24" title="See note">so popular a writer as Larra</a>.
More than thirty years had elapsed after writing that ode,
when Quintana, in the Life of the enthusiastic Las Casas,
proved his consistency of character and principles, by maintaining
them in a work of historical character, as he had done
in poetry in his youth.</p>
<p>In the prologue to the third volume he says, “The author
will be accused of little regard for the honour of his country,
when he so frankly adopts the sentiments and principles <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>of
the Protector of the Indians, whose imprudent writings have
been the occasion of so much opprobrium, and of subministering
such arms to the detractors of Spanish glories.
But neither the extravagance or fanatical exaggerations of Las
Casas, nor the abuse which the malignity of strangers have
made of them, can erase from deeds their nature and character.
The author has not gone to imbibe them from suspicious
fountains; nor to judge them as he has done, has he
regarded other principles than those of natural equity, or
other feelings than those of his own heart. Documents carefully
appended for this purpose, and the attentive perusal of
Herrera, Oviedo, and others our own writers as impartial and
judicious as those, give the same result in events and opinions.
What then was to be done? To deny the impressions received,
and repel the decision which humanity and justice dictate, on
account of not compromising what is called the honour of
the country? But the honour of a country consists in actions
truly great, noble and virtuous of its inhabitants; not in
gilding with justifications, or insufficient exculpations, those
that unfortunately bear on themselves the seal of being
iniquitous and cruel. To strangers who to depress us, accuse
us of cruelty and barbarity in our discoveries and conquests
of the New World, we might reply with other examples on
their own part, as or more atrocious than ours, and in times
and under circumstances sufficiently less excusable.…</p>
<p>“The great glories and usefulnesses, which result from
extended conquests and dominations, are always bought at a
great price, whether of blood, or violence, or reputation and
fame: unhappy tribute to be paid even by nations the most
civilized, when the impulse of destiny bears them to the same
situation. Glorious, without doubt, was for us the discovery
of the New World! But at what cost was it bought! For
myself what affects me, leaving apart as not required here<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>
the question of the advantages which Europe has derived
from that singular event, I will say, that wherever I find,
whether in the past or the present, aggressors and aggrieved,
oppressors and oppressed, on no account of ulterior utility,
nor even of national consideration, am I able to incline myself
to the former, or to fail in sympathizing with the latter. I
may have put therefore into this historical question more
entireness and candour than is commonly expected, when
referring to our own conduct, but no odious prejudices, nor
an inclination to injure or detract. Let us everywhere give
some place in books to justice, now that unfortunately it is
wont to have so little left it in the affairs of the world.”</p>
<p>Holding such high opinions in all his writings, it may be
seen that the youth of Spain cannot have a better guide to
take for private study than those writings, the best preparatives
for honourable exertion in life; and Quintana’s own
history shows, that whatever misfortunes may befall any one
individually, he does not labour or suffer in vain, who labours
or suffers honestly in a just cause. In another part of the
same prologue, Quintana says of his own lot, “Of this variety
of circumstances and continued alternations, from good to ill,
and from ill to good, not small has been the part fallen to
the author of this work. Drawn by the force of events from
his study and domestic lares, flattered and excessively exalted
now, afterwards borne down and contemned, falling into imprisonment
and proceeded against capitally, destined to a
long and perhaps indefinite detention, deprived during it of
communications and even of his pen, released from it, when
he least hoped, to rise and prosper, and descending again
soon to be endangered, he has experienced all, and nothing
now can be to him new. Let it not be supposed from this
that he puts it forth here as a merit, and less, that he presents
it in complaint. For of whom should I complain? Of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>
men? These in the midst of my greatest calamities, with
very few exceptions, have shown themselves constantly regardful,
benevolent, and even respectful towards me. Of
fortune? And what pledges had she given me to moderate
for me the rigour with which she treated the rest? Were
they not of as much or more value than I? Political and
moral turbulences are the same as the great physical disorders,
in which the elements becoming excited, no one is
sheltered from their fury.”</p>
<p>Resigning himself thus to his fate, Quintana seems to have
learned the philosophical secret of preserving his equanimity
in all the vicissitudes of life, to the enjoyment of a tranquil
old age. The privilege of attaining this is a favour to every
one, to whom it is granted; but its highest enjoyments must
be consequent only on a life of active usefulness, with a conscience
void of offence. The man of cultivated mind, who
has been called upon to do or to suffer more than others his
fellows in the turmoils of the world, may then be supposed
to receive his greater reward in the remembrances of scenes,
happier perhaps in the retrospect than in the reality, which
may have given them even the semblance of a longer existence.
As perspectives appear lengthened, according to the
number and variety of objects that intervene to the view, so
life itself may appear to have been longer or shorter, according
to the memory and character of events witnessed in its
course. Described as a person of athletic form, yet unbowed
by the burden of fourscore years, Quintana, as before observed,
still survives, to receive the honour justly due to him for his
honourable exertions through life, the remembrances of which
may thus give him more pleasurable enjoyments, than can be
supposed to fall to the lot of ordinary mortals.</p>
<p>As a poet, if a foreigner may be allowed to expr<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>ess an opinion,
for which he has no native authority to adduce, Quintana
may be said to be more eloquent than poetical. As
Quintilian said of Lucan, both also natives of Spain, “ut
dicam quod sentio, magis oratoribus quam poetis annumerandus.”
Quintana’s eloquence consists in earnestness more
than in flights of fancy. His favourite subjects were the glories
of his country; and his patriotic odes, in which he endeavoured
to incite his countrymen to imitate the examples of
their forefathers, have been pronounced his best compositions.
He has as a poet paid his tribute of admiration to beauty and
the arts; but his whole soul seems to be poured forth when
pathetically mourning over the dimmed glories of his country,
as when at the thought “of our miserable squadrons flying
before the British,” he turns to the Padillias and Guzmans
of former days, “when the Spaniard was master of half of
Europe, and threw himself upon unknown and immense seas
to give a new world to men.”</p>
<p>As a patriotic poet Quintana has been compared to Beranger,
and is said to have had the same power over the minds
of his countrymen. If the parallel be correct, it may be
curious to consider how characteristically these two poets appeal
to the feelings of their admirers; one by songs and incidents,
which though often trivial, yet speak to the heart in
its most sensitive points, while the other proceeds to the same
object by martial odes of commanding austerity. Besides the
Ode to Balmis, the other one in this work, on the Battle of
Trafalgar, has been chosen for translation, as most likely to
interest the English reader, though it may not be in itself so
much to be admired as some others of his poems. The reader
will perhaps observe a constrained style in it, even beyond
that of translation,—sentiments forced, as if the subject had
not been taken voluntarily. It must not therefore be looked
upon as a favourable specimen of Quintana’s genius, like the
Ode to Balmis, which more fully shows the character of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>
mind.</p>
<p>Quintana, more than other poets of his time, has written in
one style of verse, as in imitation of the Pindaric ode, or of
our Gray and Dryden. Thus with free metres and often
unfettered by rhyme, he has a staid measured tone, well suited
to the subjects he has generally adopted. They are considered
in Spain as of an elegiac character; and as accordant
with them, they have fallen in the translation into the form
of our elegies, or the heroic lines with alternate rhymes, the
style of verse which Dryden, a high authority on such a question,
pronounced “the most magnificent of all the measures
which our language affords.”</p>
<p>Much as Quintana has published, both of his own works
and of the works of others, for the advancement of sound
learning and moral instruction, we have still great cause to
regret that the circumstances of the times in which he has
lived have prevented him from publishing more. Not only
has he been interrupted in the course of those instructive
biographies, of which we have such valuable beginnings, but
we might have hoped, if he had lived in more peaceful times,
that he would have given the world some work, of a character
more distinctively his own, to place his name still higher in
the history of elegant literature. It was one of the maxims
of the wise Jovellanos, “that it was not sufficient for the purposes
of good government to keep the people quiet, but that
they ought to be kept contented.” Without this condition
the other cannot be expected; and for all public commotions,
therefore, the rulers are always most responsible, as unmindful
of this truth. The greatest evil is, when the whole literary
world has thus also further cause to complain of their misdeeds,
as affecting those who were endowed with talents of a
higher order, such as to make all men interested in their
well-being. It is to be hoped that we are now, under <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>the
benignant reign of Isabel the Second, entitled to expect a
more liberal government, and the advent of a still brighter
æra for the literature of Spain.</p>
<p>Taking the space of eighty years, as comprehending the
period during which modern Spanish poetry has been peculiarly
distinguished for superior excellence, we may now make
a further division of this period, into the former and latter
parts of it. All the poets, whose lives we have hitherto traced,
wrote their principal works previously to the year 1810; after
which time we have a succession of writers, whose genius may
perhaps be found to take a yet wider range of thought and
feeling, consequent on the extended field of knowledge, which
later events presented to their observation.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p>
<h3>MANUEL JOSÈ QUINTANA.</h3>
<h4>TO THE SPANISH EXPEDITION FOR THE
PROMOTION OF VACCINATION IN AMERICA,
UNDER DON FRANCISCO BALMIS.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Fair Virgin of the world, America!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thou who so innocent to heaven display’st</div>
<div class="verse">Thy bosom stored with plenty’s rich array,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And brow of gentle youth! Thou, who so graced</div>
<div class="verse">The tenderest and most lovely of the zones</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of mother Earth to shine, shouldst be of fate</div>
<div class="verse">The sweet delight and favour’d love it owns,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That but pursues thee with relentless hate,</div>
<div class="verse">Hear me! If ever was a time mine eyes,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When scanning thy eventful history,</div>
<div class="verse">Did not burst forth in tears; if could thy cries</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My heart e’er hear unmoved, from pity free</div>
<div class="verse">And indignation; then let me disclaim’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of virtue be eternally as held,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>
<div class="verse">And barbarous and wicked be one named</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As those who with such ruin thee assail’d.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">In the eternal book of life are borne,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Written in blood, those cries, which then sent forth</div>
<div class="verse">Thy lips to Heaven, such fury doom’d to mourn,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And yet against my country call in wrath.</div>
<div class="verse">Forbidding glory and success attend</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The fatal field of crimes. Will they ne’er cease?</div>
<div class="verse">Will not the bitter expiation end</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Sufficed of three eventful centuries?</div>
<div class="verse">We are not now those who on daring’s wing,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Before the world, the Atlantic’s depths disdain’d,</div>
<div class="verse">And from the silence found thee covering,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That fiercely tore thee, bleeding and enchain’d!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“No, ye are not the same. But my lament</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Is not for this to cease: I could forget</div>
<div class="verse">The rigours which my conquerors relent,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Their avarice with cruelties beset:</div>
<div class="verse">The crime was of the age, and not of Spain.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But when can I forget the evils sore</div>
<div class="verse">Which I must miserably yet sustain?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Among them one, come, see what I deplore,</div>
<div class="verse">If horror will not you deter. From you,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Your fatal ships first launch’d, the mortal pest,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
<div class="verse">The poison that now desolates me flew.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As in doom’d plains by ruthless foes oppress’d,</div>
<div class="verse">As serpent that incessantly devours,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">So ever from your coming, to consume</div>
<div class="verse">Has it raged o’er me. See here, how it lowers!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And in the hidden place of death and gloom,</div>
<div class="verse">Buries my children and my loves. Affords</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Your skill no remedy? O! ye, who call</div>
<div class="verse">Yourselves as of America the lords,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Have pity on my agony. See, fall</div>
<div class="verse">Beneath your insane fury, not sufficed</div>
<div class="verse indent1">One generation, but a hundred slain!</div>
<div class="verse">And I expiring, desolate, unprized,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Beseech assistance, and beseech in vain.”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Such were the cries that to Olympus rose,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When in the fields of Albion found remote,</div>
<div class="verse">Variola’s fell havocs to oppose,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Kind Nature show’d the happy antidote.</div>
<div class="verse">The docile mother of the herd was found</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Enrich’d with this great gift; there stored attent</div>
<div class="verse">Where from her copious milky founts around</div>
<div class="verse indent1">She gives so many life and aliment.</div>
<div class="verse">Jenner to mortals first the gift reveal’d:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thenceforward mothers to their hearts could press</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Their children without fear to lose them heal’d;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Nor fear’d thenceforward in her loveliness</div>
<div class="verse">The maiden, lest the fatal venom spoil</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her cheek of roses, or her brow of snow.</div>
<div class="verse">All Europe then is join’d in grateful toil,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For gift so precious and immense to know,</div>
<div class="verse">In praises loud to echo Jenner’s name;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And altars to his skill to raise decrees,</div>
<div class="verse">There to long ages hallowing his fame,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Beside their tutelar divinities.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Of such a glory at the radiant light,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With noble emulation fill’d his breast,</div>
<div class="verse">A Spaniard rose,—“Let not my country slight,”</div>
<div class="verse indent1">He cried, “on such a great occasion’s test,</div>
<div class="verse">Her ancient magnanimity to employ.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">’Tis fortune’s gift discovering it alone;</div>
<div class="verse">That let an Englishman his right enjoy.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Let Spain’s sublime and generous heart be shown,</div>
<div class="verse">Giving her majesty more honour true,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">By carrying this treasure to the lands</div>
<div class="verse">Which most the evil’s dire oppressions knew.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">There, for I feel a deity commands,</div>
<div class="verse">There will I fly, and of the raging wave</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Will brave in bearing it the furious strife;</div>
<div class="verse">America’s infested plains to save</div>
<div class="verse indent1">From death, as planting there the tree of life.”</div>
<div class="verse">He spoke, and scarcely from his burning lip</div>
<div class="verse indent1">These echoes had beneficently flowed,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>
<div class="verse">When floating in the port, prepared the ship,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To give commencement to so blest a road,</div>
<div class="verse">Moved spreading her white canvas to the air.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On his fate launch’d himself the aëronaut.</div>
<div class="verse">Waves of the sea, in favouring calmness bear,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As sacred, this deposit to be brought</div>
<div class="verse">Through your serene and liquid fields. There goes</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of thousand generations long the hope;</div>
<div class="verse">Nor whelm it, nor let thunder it oppose;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Arrest the lightning, with no storms to cope,</div>
<div class="verse">Stay them until that from those fertile shores</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Come forth the prows, triumphant in their pride,</div>
<div class="verse">That fraught remote with all their golden stores,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With vice and curses also come allied.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Honour to Balmis! O, heroic soul!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That in such noble toil devotest thy breath,</div>
<div class="verse">Go fearless to thy end. The dreadful roll</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of ocean always hoarse, and threatening death;</div>
<div class="verse">The fearful whirlpool’s all-devouring throat,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The cavern’d rock’s black face, where dash’d by fate,</div>
<div class="verse">Break the wreck’d barks, the dangers they denote</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Greatest are not most cruel thee that wait.</div>
<div class="verse">From man expect them! Impious, envious man,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In error wrapped and blind, will prove him bent,</div>
<div class="verse">When hush’d against thee is the hurricane,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To combat rough the generous intent.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>
<div class="verse">But firmly and secure press forward on;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And hold in mind, when comes for strife the day,</div>
<div class="verse">That without constant, anxious toil, can none</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Hope glory’s palms to seize, and bear away.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">At length thou comest; America salutes</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her benefactor, and at once her veins</div>
<div class="verse">The destined balm to purify deputes.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A further generous ardour then regains</div>
<div class="verse">Thy breast; and thou, obedient to the hand</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Divine that leads thee, turn’st the sounding prow</div>
<div class="verse">Where Ganges rolls, and every Eastern land</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The gift may take. The Southern Ocean now</div>
<div class="verse">Astonished sees thee, o’er her mighty breast</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Untiring passing. Luzon thee admires,</div>
<div class="verse">Good always sowing on thy road impress’d:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And as it China’s toilsome shore acquires,</div>
<div class="verse">Confucius from his tomb of honour’d fame,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">If could his venerable form arise,</div>
<div class="verse">To see it in glad wonder might exclaim,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">“’Twas worthy of my virtue, this emprise!”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Right worthy was it of thee, mighty sage!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Worthy of that divine and highest light,</div>
<div class="verse">Which reason and which virtue erst array’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To shine in happier days, now quench’d in night.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Thou, Balmis! never mayst return; nor grows</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In Europe now the sacred laurel meet</div>
<div class="verse">With which to crown thee. There in calm repose,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Where peace and independence a retreat</div>
<div class="verse">May find, there rest thee! where thou mayst receive</div>
<div class="verse indent1">At length the august reward of deeds so blest.</div>
<div class="verse">Nations immense shall come for thee to grieve,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Raising in grateful hymns to Heaven address’d</div>
<div class="verse">Thy name with fervorous zeal. And though now laid</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In the cold tomb’s dark precincts thou refuse</div>
<div class="verse">To hear them, listen to them thus convey’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">At least, as in the accents of my Muse.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h4>ON THE BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Not with an easy hand wills Fate to give</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Nations, or heroes, power and renown:</div>
<div class="verse">Triumphant Rome, whose empire to receive</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A hemisphere submissively bow’d down,</div>
<div class="verse">Yielding itself in silent servitude,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">How often did she vanquish’d groan? repell’d</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>
<div class="verse">As she her course of loftiness pursued!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her ground to Hannibal she scarcely held;</div>
<div class="verse">Italian blood of Trevia the sands,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And wavy Thrasymenus deeply dyed,</div>
<div class="verse">And Roman matrons the victorious bands</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of Cannæ nigh approaching them descried,</div>
<div class="verse">As some portentous comet fearful lower.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Who drove them thence? Who from the Capitol</div>
<div class="verse">Turn’d on the throne, that founded Dido’s power,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The clouds that threaten’d then o’er them to roll?</div>
<div class="verse">Who in the fields of Zama, from the yoke</div>
<div class="verse indent1">They fear’d, with direful slaughter to set free,</div>
<div class="verse">At length the sceptre of great Carthage broke,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With which she held her sovereignty, the sea?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Unswerving courage! that alone the shield</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That turns adversity’s sharp knife aside:</div>
<div class="verse">To joy turns sorrow; bids despair to yield</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To glory, and of fortune learns to guide</div>
<div class="verse">The dubious whirlwind, victory in its train;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For a high-minded race commands its fate.</div>
<div class="verse">O, Spain! my country! covering thy domain,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The mourning shows how great thy suffering state;</div>
<div class="verse">But still hope on, and with undaunted brow,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">From base dejection free, behold the walls</div>
<div class="verse">Of thy own lofty Gades, which avow</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thy strength, though fate them now awhile appals;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Which though affrighted, blushing in their shame,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As bathing them around the waves extend,</div>
<div class="verse">Yet loud thy sons’ heroic deeds proclaim,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Far on the sounding billows they defend.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse"><a href="#note25" title="See note">From the proud castled poop</a> that crowns his high</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Indomitable ship, the Briton round</div>
<div class="verse">Look’d, on his power and glory to rely,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And boastful cried, “Companions renown’d!</div>
<div class="verse">See, there they come: new trophies to attain</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Wait your unconquer’d arms; the feeble pines</div>
<div class="verse">That Spain prepares for her defence in vain:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Fate from our yoke exemption none assigns.</div>
<div class="verse">We are the sons of Neptune. Do they dare</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To plough the waves before us? Call to mind</div>
<div class="verse">Aboukir’s memorable day! to share</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Another such a triumph: let us find</div>
<div class="verse">One moment as sufficing us to come,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To conquer, and destroy them. Grant it me,</div>
<div class="verse">Kind fate! and let us crown’d with laurels home</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Our wealthy Thames again returning see.”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">He spoke, and spread his sails. With swimming prows</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Opening the waves, they follow him elate,</div>
<div class="verse"><a href="#note26" title="See note">Conquerors of winds and waves.</a> With dauntless brow</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The Spaniards view them, and in calmness wait,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Contemning their fierce arrogance, and high</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Their bosoms beating with indignant rage.</div>
<div class="verse">Just anger! sacred ardour! “There come nigh</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Those cruel foes, who hasten war to wage,</div>
<div class="verse">And spill our blood, when we reposed secure</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Beneath the wings of peace. They who are led</div>
<div class="verse">By avarice vile; who friendship’s laws abjure;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Who in their endless tyranny o’erspread</div>
<div class="verse">Would hold condemn’d the seas; who to unite,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As brothers, pride and insolence of power</div>
<div class="verse">With treachery and rapacity delight;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Who”—but with mantle dark night brings the hour</div>
<div class="verse">To enwrap the world. Wandering round the shrouds</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Are frightful shades, dire slaughter that portend</div>
<div class="verse">And fearful expectations raise. Through opening clouds</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The day displays the field, where wildly blend</div>
<div class="verse">Fury and death; and horrid Mars the scene</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Swells loud with shouts of war, upraised in air</div>
<div class="verse">His standard high. To answer intervene</div>
<div class="verse indent1">From hollow brass the mortal roarings glare.</div>
<div class="verse">The echo thunders, and the waves resound,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Dashing themselves in rage to Afric’s shore:</div>
<div class="verse">In conflict fly the ships to ships around,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">By rancour moved. Less violent its store</div>
<div class="verse">Of heap’d-up ice in mountains, the South Pole</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Emits immense, loud thundering through the waves</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>
<div class="verse">To glide, and on the adventurous seaman roll.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Nor with less clamour loosen’d from their caves</div>
<div class="verse">Rush the black tempests, when the East and North,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Troubling the heavens enraged in furious war,</div>
<div class="verse">And dire encounter, all their strength put forth,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And shake the centre of the globe afar.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thrice the fierce islander advanced to break</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Our squadron’s wall, confiding in his might:</div>
<div class="verse">Thrice by the Spanish force repulsed, to shake</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His hopes of victory he sees the fight.</div>
<div class="verse">Who shall depict his fury and his rage,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When with that flag before so proud he saw</div>
<div class="verse">The flag of Spain invincible engage?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">’Tis not to skill or valour to o’erawe,</div>
<div class="verse">Solely he trusts to fortune for success.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Doubling his ships, redoubling them again,</div>
<div class="verse">From poop to prow, from side to side to press,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In an unequal fight is made sustain</div>
<div class="verse">Each Spanish ship a thousand, thousand fires;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And they with equal breath that death receive</div>
<div class="verse">So send it back. No, not to my desires,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">If heaven would grant it me, could I achieve</div>
<div class="verse">The task that day’s heroic deeds to tell,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Not with a hundred tongues; hid from the sun</div>
<div class="verse">By smoke, Fame’s trumpet shall their praises swell,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And bronze and marble for their names be won.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">At length the moment comes, when Death extends</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His pale and horrid hand, to signalize</div>
<div class="verse">Great victims. Brave Alcedo to him bends,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And nobly Moyua, with Castanios, dies.</div>
<div class="verse"><a href="#note27" title="See note">And Alcalà, Churruca, also ye!</a></div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of Betis and Guipuzcoa the pride.</div>
<div class="verse">O! if Fate knew to spare, would it not be</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Enough to soothe, upon your brows allied</div>
<div class="verse">Minerva’s olive with Mars’ laurels seen?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">From your illustrious and inquiring mind</div>
<div class="verse">What could the world, or stars, their mysteries screen?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of your great course the traces left behind</div>
<div class="verse">The Cyclades are full, nor less the seas</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of far America. How seeks to mourn,</div>
<div class="verse">New tears from her sad heart her grief to appease,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The widow’d land such heroes from her torn;</div>
<div class="verse">And still she sheds them o’er your cruel fate.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">O! that ye two could live, and I in place</div>
<div class="verse">Of grief, of sorrowing song, to consecrate</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To you the funeral accents that I raise,</div>
<div class="verse">Might have opposed my bosom to the stroke,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And thus my useless life my country give!</div>
<div class="verse">That I might thus your cruel lot revoke,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To bear the wounds, so that ye two might live!</div>
<div class="verse">And she might proudly raise her front anew,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Victorious crown’d with rays of glory bright,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Her course ’gainst arduous fortune to pursue,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Triumphant in your wisdom and your might.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse"><a href="#note28" title="See note">Yet fell ye not, ye generous squadrons!</a> there,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Without revenge and slaughter. Spreading wide,</div>
<div class="verse">Rivers of English blood your powers declare.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And Albion also horror-struck descried</div>
<div class="verse">Mountains of bodies weigh, a heavy pile,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On her so proud Armada. Nelson, too!</div>
<div class="verse">Terrible shade! O, think not, no, that vile</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My voice to name thee, e’er an insult threw</div>
<div class="verse">On thy last sigh. As English I abhor,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But hero I admire thee. O, thy fate!</div>
<div class="verse">Of captive ships a crowd, the spoils of war,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The Thames awaits, and now exults elate</div>
<div class="verse">To hail with shouts the conqueror’s return!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But only pale and cold beholds her Chief!</div>
<div class="verse">Great lesson left for human pride to learn,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And worthy holocaust for Spanish grief.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Yet still the rage of Mars impels the arm</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of destiny; mow’d down unnumber’d lives.</div>
<div class="verse">By fury launch’d, voracious flames alarm;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On every side planks burning. Loosely drives</div>
<div class="verse">Each ship a fierce volcano; blazing high</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Through the wide air ’tis raised, and thrown again</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>
<div class="verse">With horrid bursting in the seas to lie,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Engulf’d. Do other havocs yet remain?</div>
<div class="verse">Yes, for that Heaven, displeased to see such foes,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Bids the inclement north winds rise to part</div>
<div class="verse">The furious combatants, and day to close</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In stormy night. ’Tis order’d, and athwart</div>
<div class="verse">They throw themselves the miserable barks,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Lashing the waves on high with cruel wings.</div>
<div class="verse">As each this new unequal combat marks</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For ruin, falls the mast, and over swings</div>
<div class="verse">Trembling beneath the assault. The hulls divide,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And where the gaping seams the waves invite,</div>
<div class="verse">They enter, while the dying Spaniards cried,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">“O! that we were to perish, but in fight!”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">In that remorseless conflict, high in air,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Then shining forth their glorious forms display’d</div>
<div class="verse">The mighty champions, who of old to bear</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The trident and the spear, supreme had made</div>
<div class="verse">Before the Iberian flag the nations bow.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">There Lauria, Trovar, and Bazan were seen,</div>
<div class="verse">And Aviles, their brother heroes now</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of Spain to welcome, and in death convene.</div>
<div class="verse">“Come among us,” they cried, “among the brave</div>
<div class="verse indent1">You emulate. Already you have gain’d</div>
<div class="verse">Your fair reward. The example that you gave</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of valour, Spain in constancy sustain’d</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Her warriors shows, inciting to prepare</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For other conflicts they undaunted greet.</div>
<div class="verse">Look to the city of Alcides! there</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Gravina, Alavà, and Escanio meet!</div>
<div class="verse">Cisneros and a hundred more combine</div>
<div class="verse indent1">There in firm column, with proud hopes to bless</div>
<div class="verse">Our native land. Come, fly ye here, and shine</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In heaven their stars of glory, and success.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p>
<h2 id="PART_II">PART II.</h2>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a><br />
<a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="VII">VII.<br />
<span class="smaller">FRANCISCO MARTINEZ DE LA ROSA.</span></h3>
<p>Throughout the civilized world, and even beyond it, this
eminent statesman has long been heard of, as one who, while
devoting his life faithfully to promote the welfare of his own
country, had exerted himself no less assiduously for the general
interests of mankind. As an orator, a statesman and a
political writer, he has thus obtained a deservedly high European
reputation, due to his services and merits. In Spain he
is further known as one of the first literary characters of
whom his country has to boast, and as a dramatist and lyric
poet of a very superior order.</p>
<p>Martinez de la Rosa was born the 10th March, 1789, at
Granada, where also he received his education, completing it
at the University in that city. Before the age of twenty he
had gone through the usual course of study in the ancient
and some of the modern languages, in philosophy, mathematics,
canon and civil law, with such success as to have
been enabled to undertake a professorship of philosophy there,
perfecting himself in the art of oratory, in which his natural
talents already had become manifest, as they soon afterwards
gave him the means of greater distinction. From those pursuits
he was called away, in 1808, on the occurrence of the
French invasion, to take an active part in the struggle for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>
national independence, into which he entered with youthful
ardour, by public declamations, and by writing in a periodical
instituted to maintain it.</p>
<p>As the French arms advanced victoriously, Martinez de la
Rosa, with others of the party who had been most conspicuous
in their opposition to them, had to take refuge in Cadiz.
He was first employed to proceed to Gibraltar, as his future
colleague, <a href="#note29" title="See note">the Conde de Toreno</a>, had been sent to London, to
obtain a cessation of hostilities, in the war then yet existing
between England and Spain, and concert measures of alliance
against the French. In this mission he had the desired success,
having further obtained from the governor of Gibraltar
arms and ammunition, which enabled the Spanish forces
under Castanios to march and obtain, at Bailen, the memorable
triumph of the 19th July, 1808. In consequence of
this victory, the French had to evacuate Madrid, and the
Central Junta was formed, superseding the first actors in the
conflict. On this, Martinez de la Rosa took advantage of the
circumstances to go to England, and observe there himself,
says his biographer, <a href="#note30" title="See note">the celebrated Pacheco</a>, “in its birth-place,
where it was natural, complete and necessary, that representative
system, which the spirit of reform wished to
bring over for the people of the Continent.” Wolf says he
had there a diplomatic commission, adding, that he took advantage
of it “to familiarize himself with the English constitution,
for which he always had a great predilection.”</p>
<p>Whether he had public duties entrusted to him or not,
Martinez de la Rosa seems then to have stayed some time in
London, studying the workings of the parliamentary system,
the good fruits of which he, as Mirabeau had before him,
found in his legislative career. There he printed, in 1811,
his poem, Zaragoza, written in competition for the prize offered
by the Central Junta, in celebration of the defence of that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>
city in 1809, and there also he wrote several other poems.
The one of Zaragoza seems not to have been reprinted in
Spain till the publication of his collected poems in Madrid in
1833, and no adjudication ever was made on the compositions
prepared at the suggestion of the Junta, but it is stated that
the judges had unanimously agreed to confer on him the
premium offered in the name of the nation.</p>
<p>In 1811 the French armies had driven the assertors of
national independence from all the other principal parts of
Spain to Cadiz, and there the Cortes were convoked to meet.
There then, Martinez de la Rosa returned, and though not
yet of the age required by law to be chosen a Deputy, he
took part in all the deliberations of the national councils, and
was appointed Secretary to the commission on the freedom of
the press. Meanwhile the siege of Cadiz was commenced by
the French and pressed unremittingly; but the spirit of the
defenders did not fail them. Martinez de la Rosa and Quintana
continued their literary labours, and the former produced
a comedy and a tragedy, both of which were received
with much favour. The latter continues a favourite on the
stage, on a subject well chosen from Spanish history, and entitled
the ‘Widow of Padillia.’ To use his own words, “It
was represented, for the first time, in July 1812, and in days
so unfortunate, that it could not be produced even in the
theatre at Cadiz, on account of the great danger from the
bombs of the enemy, which had nearly caused, a little before,
the destruction of the building, crowded at the time with a
numerous audience. For this reason they had to erect a
theatre of wood in another part of the city, at a distance from
where the French artillery had directed their aim.”</p>
<p>Shortly after this the siege was raised, and the French
having again evacuated Madrid, the Cortes were convoked to
assemble there, when Martinez de la Rosa was elected De<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>puty
for his native city. He had throughout the struggle joined
the most active members of the liberal party, Arguelles,
Quintana and others, who, all honourable and patriotic characters,
had acted in perfect sincerity in forming the Constitution
of 1812, as it was called, which they hoped would
secure the future freedom of the country.</p>
<p>In this, however, they found themselves mistaken; the representative
system had scarcely time to develope its advantages,
when it was overthrown entirely on the return of Ferdinand
to Spain, who, by his decree of the 4th of May, 1814,
annulled the Constitution, and dissolved the Cortes. Had he
been contented with this, as in re-assumption of the regal
authority exercised by his predecessors, the liberal party
might have had only to lament the abrupt termination of
their hopes. But, unfortunately, proceedings still more arbitrary
were commenced against their leaders individually, of a
nature unknown, even in Spain, till then, and in comparison
with which the rule of the Prince of the Peace was a pattern
of toleration. As those leaders had not been guilty of any
act which could make them amenable to any legal tribunal,
Ferdinand VII. took on himself to pass the sentences he
chose to inflict on them for the opinions they had held, and
the conduct they had pursued, in the momentous struggle for
national independence, resulting in his restoration. The partisans
of the Absolute King wished to extort from Martinez
de la Rosa a retractation of the opinions he had maintained;
but they miscalculated his character. He refused to listen
to their overtures, and he was sentenced to ten years’ imprisonment
in the penal settlement of Gomera in Africa.</p>
<p>In 1820 a reaction took place, and the constitutional party
again obtained possession of the government. Martinez de
la Rosa had then passed six years of unjust imprisonment,
when he was recalled to Spain, and was received, in his <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>native
city, with triumphal arches erected to welcome him, and other
tokens of public respect and rejoicing. At the first election
of deputies afterwards for the Cortes, he was sent with that
character from Granada, but his sentiments on public affairs
had become considerably modified. Others of the liberal
party had returned from exile or imprisonment with exasperated
feelings; but Martinez de la Rosa had employed his
time more philosophically, in considering the means that
should be adopted, to use his own expression, “for resolving
the problem, most important for the human race, how to
unite order with liberty.” Avoiding all extreme opinions, he
gave his support to the ministry he found existing and their
successors, as the means of preserving order, until they fell
under the combination of unworthy jealousies among their
own party, and the constant attacks of those holding the extreme
opinions of democracy and absolutism.</p>
<p>On the 1st March, 1821, Martinez de la Rosa was called
on to form a ministry, which duty he finally undertook,
though he had at first strenuously declined it. He had good
reason to decline it, as the king himself was throughout that
period plotting against his own ministers and government, to
re-establish himself in absolute power. At the end of June,
Martinez de la Rosa found himself under the necessity of
tendering his resignation, and insisting upon its being accepted,
though both the king and the council at first refused
to do so. The moderate course which he wished to follow
pleased neither party; and even he, who had suffered six years
of unjust imprisonment in the popular cause, was now looked
on as a traitor by the people, and ran great risk of being
murdered in a public commotion raised in the city. Had he
chosen to take a more decisive part, either on the one side or
the other, the weight of his character would no doubt have
given it the preponderance. As it was, the question was decide<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>d
by the invasion of the French under the Duc d’Angoulême,
who restored Ferdinand VII. to his former authority.</p>
<p>When the French entered Spain, the constitutionalist government
had retired to Seville; but Martinez de la Rosa
had been obliged, from illness, to remain at Madrid. There
being called upon to give in his adhesion to the authority
imposed by foreign arms on the nation, he declined to do so,
and thought himself fortunate in having no severer penalty
to suffer thereupon, than to have his passport given him to
go from Spain, while others had to suffer so much more
severely. He then retired to Paris, where he resided eight
years, paying occasional visits to Italy, and though not proscribed
directly as an exile, yet he was not allowed to return
to his country.</p>
<p>During those eight years he devoted his leisure to literary
pursuits, and composed most of those works on which
his fame must permanently rest; such as his poem, ‘Arte
Poetica;’ his very beautiful ‘Ode on the Death of the Duchess
de Frias,’ and several plays; among them the ‘Tragedy of
the Conspiracy of Venice,’ considered the best of all he had
written. Thus occupied in endeavouring to make future
generations wiser and better, Martinez de la Rosa gained
increased respect at home with his increased reputation
abroad; and on the moderating of the first angry party-feelings
in Spain, was at the end of eight years allowed to return
to Granada.</p>
<p>The events of 1830 had produced the effect in Spain of
milder councils being adopted in the government, which prevailed
still more on the Queen Christina assuming power,
first on the illness of the king, and afterwards as Regent on
his death in 1833. Martinez de la Rosa had then been permitted
to return to Madrid, and in this latter year he published
the first collection of his poems, dedicating himself to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>
writing at the same time his ‘Life of Perez del Pulgar,’ one
of the old warriors of Spain, and other works. From these
labours he was then called to undertake again the duties of
government. The existing ministry formed under a former
line of policy, was not suitable to the exigences of the times,
rendered still more pressing now by the pretensions of Don
Carlos to the throne. It was necessary to oppose those pretensions,
by obtaining the zealous aid of the constitutional
party; and Martinez de la Rosa was chosen as the leader,
embodying in himself the characteristics of moderation and
just principles, to form a ministry.</p>
<p>It does not become a foreigner, least of all in a purely
literary work, to enter in judgement on any questions of a
political nature. The best-intentioned persons in the world
may take different views of the same question, under the
same emergences, and the wisdom of any particular measure
is not always to be judged of by the result. In the conflicts of
contending parties, the most unscrupulous and daring may
often succeed, where wiser and better men may fail. Of
Martinez de la Rosa, his biographer has observed, that “he
was one of those men who would not conspire even for good
ends unlawfully; and that if he could not obtain what he
wished by just means, he would cross his arms, and leave the
rest to Providence.” The events of those years present
much ground for regret for all parties, and it is a truly
honourable consideration for such a one as Martinez de la
Rosa, that, acting according to the best of his judgement
on many very difficult occasions, he might have been compelled
to yield to force and violence, without any imputation
on his probity or statesmanship.</p>
<p>But if it be beyond our consideration of duty to enter on
questions of internal polity, there are two others, connected
with his administration, to which we may venture to refer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>, as
to be judged of by those great principles of right and justice,
which are applicable to all times and all countries, and become
thus fairly subject to commendation or censure, as
affecting the general interests of mankind.</p>
<p>Though Martinez de la Rosa had been one of the principal
actors among those who had established the Constitution of
1812, for which also he suffered as a prisoner and an exile,
he learned soon to perceive that it required considerable
modifications in a country like Spain, where the people were
not fully prepared to receive it. One of his first measures
then was to promulgate what might be termed a new Constitution,
called the Estatuto Real, the general wisdom and
propriety of which may be admitted, or at least not disputed,
while one part of it may be pronounced indefensible. This
was in the design to subvert the ancient <a href="#note31" title="See note">rights of the Basque
people</a>, by amalgamating their provinces into the kingdom,
without obtaining or asking their assent. This was a measure
unjust in itself; and because unjust, also impolitic; leading
to a long-protracted struggle, in which the whole force
of Spain being employed, army after army was destroyed,
and general after general disgraced, by a comparatively inconsiderable
number of undisciplined peasantry. When England
sought to incorporate the Parliaments of Scotland and
Ireland into that of the United Kingdom, it was sought by
what might be called legal, though not always honourable
means. On the same principle, the consent of the Basques
ought to have been obtained by the Spanish government,
rather than the attempt made, furtively or forcibly, to deprive
them of their ancient privileges.</p>
<p>On another great question affecting humanity, it is pleasing
to consider Martinez de la Rosa among the foremost characters
of the age, in attempting the suppression of the slave
trade with Africa. In 1817 a treaty was made between England<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>
and Spain to suppress this traffic, which, after the experience
of a few years, it was found necessary to make more
stringent. Propositions to this effect were therefore made
year after year to successive Spanish governments by the British,
but in vain, until in 1835 Lord Palmerston was successful
enough to find in him a minister of Spain, who had the courage
to consent to those suggestions. The treaty of that year was
then entered into, and signed on the part of the two countries,
by Sir George Villiers, now Earl of Clarendon, and
Martinez de la Rosa, which has had the desired effect of preventing
the trade being protected by the Spanish flag. But
this able statesman has done still more, to entitle him to the
respect of all who look with interest on this important question.
One of the stipulations of the treaty declared that a
penal law should be passed in Spain, in accordance with it,
to punish all Spanish subjects found infringing it. This
stipulation no other Spanish minister could be found to fulfil;
and after the lapse of ten years, having again come into
power, it was left for him in good faith to accomplish the
engagement he had previously undertaken. Accordingly in
1845, he passed a law, answering the purposes required, which
received the approbation of the British government, and which
seems to have been so far effective in its application.</p>
<p>Great, undoubtedly, is the praise due to those philanthropic
statesmen, who, even at the Congress of Vienna, agreed to
protect the liberty of Africa. But much greater must be
acknowledged due to one who, unsupported almost in his own
country, having to oppose himself to a strong colonial interest,
and the cry they raised against him of acting in subservience
to a foreign power, yet had the moral courage to
follow the dictates of justice and humanity, on behalf of an
injured race, notwithstanding all the enmity he had to encounter
in so doing.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p>
<p>In 1836 Martinez de la Rosa had to yield his place in the
government to other hands; and in 1840 he thought proper
to retire again to Paris, engaging himself in those literary
pursuits from which he had latterly been estranged. It is
not our province to follow his political course, through the
different public questions on which he had to act. During
the four intermediate years various ministries were formed,
to some of which he had to give an honourable support, to
others as honourable an opposition; but the Regency of
Espartero he avoided to acknowledge. When this fell under
the attack of Narvaez, he came forward again into public life,
and accepted office for a short time in the government; but
seemed resolved to take the first opportunity of giving up
the post of active exertion for one of more private character,
though of no less public utility. Accordingly, on the accession
of Pius IX. to the Papacy, he was appointed Ambassador
to Rome, which important office he still continues to hold,
for the advantage of the Roman Catholic church itself, as
well as of his own country, in the several questions that have
come since under discussion, subject to his intervention.</p>
<p>As a politician, Martinez de la Rosa has been conspicuous for
constant rectitude and consistency of principles. “Not even
in moments of the utmost defamation,” says his biographer,
“has a word been ever raised against his purity of conduct,
nor have his greatest enemies ever permitted themselves to
impugn in the least his intentions.” As an orator, he has
had few to equal him in his time, none to surpass him; but
his eloquence has been modelled by his character to persuade
and defend rather than attack; and thus, if not abounding in
brilliant sallies, it has been found of more essential service
to the cause of good government.</p>
<p>Beyond the ‘History of Perez del<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> Pulgar,’ Martinez de la
Rosa has written several other works in prose, one of which,
the latest, entitled ‘Spirit of the Age,’ is in fact, so far as
yet published, a History of the French Revolution, preceded
by a few general observations on political questions. It has
already advanced to six volumes, and becoming a political
and philosophical history of contemporaneous events, may be
extended to the utmost limits. A novel which he wrote
earlier in life, ‘Donna de Solis,’ is acknowledged a failure,
as showing “that no man, however eminent, can write successfully
on all kinds of subjects.”</p>
<p>The principal literary success which Martinez de la Rosa
has had, seems to have been as a dramatist; but into those
works it would be impossible to enter, to treat them with
justice, except by making them a prominent subject of consideration.
His poems, published as before stated in 1833,
contain compositions in various styles, from the light Anacreontic
to the project of an Epic Poem on the Wars of
Granada, of which, however, he has only published fragments.
Besides a translation of Horace’s ‘Art of Poetry,’ he has also
given the world an ‘Ars Poetica,’ for the benefit of his own
countrymen, which he has enriched with many excellent
notes and criticisms.</p>
<p>Some of the rules laid down in this ‘Ars Poetica’ are well
worthy of study, as giving room for reflection, for carrying
their suggestions even further than he has done. Thus, while
insisting on the young poet depending on the excellency of
his ear for the melody of verse, instead of having to count
the syllables for the requisite purpose, he observes, that as
the ancients regulated their metres by time, making so many
long or short feet of equivalent measure, of which the judgement
must depend on the cadence, so in the verses of the
best Spanish poets, there are often some lines containing
three or four more syllables than others, to which they form
the counterpart, and which are read in the same measure,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>
with increased pleasure for the variation.</p>
<p>The same <a href="#note32" title="See note">observation may apply to English verse</a>, though
perhaps not so fully. Many of our syllables containing
shortly sounded vowels, such as a Hebrew scholar might call
Sheva and its compounds, pronounced distinctly, but two in
the time of an ordinary syllable, may be found to give an
elegance to the line, which would sound faulty with only one
of them. But we may go further, and observe, that as in
music the melody may be continued by the pause, instead of
a note in the bar, so in a line, a pause with one or more long
syllables may have the effect of a syllable, instead of the
sound or foot to make up the measure. Readers of poetry
will not require to be reminded of instances of this adaptation
of sounds, and if they notice any such lines in these
translations, they will perceive that they have been written
in accordance with the precepts referred to.</p>
<p>It must be acknowledged, that in the generality of his
poems, Martinez de la Rosa has not risen to any such height
of sublimity or fancy as to give him a place in the superior
class of poets. But one of the latest critical writers, Ferrer
del Rio, who has given a more disparaging estimate of his
poetical talents than justice might award, pronounces the
‘Epistle to the Duke de Frias’ as a composition for which
“judges the most grave and least complaisant might place him
on the top of Parnassus.” The ‘Remembrance of Spain,’ Del
Rio declares to be poor in images, without feeling or depth,
but with much of pastoral innocency. The ‘Return to Spain’
is, according to him, a mere itinerary of his travels, more
than an expression of pleasure on escaping from past evil.
But in the ‘Epistle to the Duke de Frias,’ he finds “true-felt
inspiration, an appropriate expression, and a plan well traced
out,”—“without vagueness or artificial labour, but with
phrases that soften and ideas that satisfy the mind,” becoming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>
the subject.</p>
<p>Another anonymous critic finds the writer dwelling too
much on the remembrance of his own sorrows, instead of
offering consolation to the mourner, and some incongruity in
felicitating him on having witnessed the last pangs of mortality.
But these topics, on such an occasion, are true to
nature. Grief is apt to be egotistical, and the mind cannot
but dwell on the subject in which it is absorbed. Nor is the
other a less natural suggestion; and thus we may observe,
that the great master of antiquity represents the sweetest of
his characters lamenting that she had not been by the side of
her lord at such a time, as the height of her misfortune, to
receive his last embrace, and his last word to be remembered
ever after:—</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Ἕκτορ, ἐμοὶ δὲ μάλιστα λελείψεται ἄλγεα λυγρά.</div>
<div class="verse">Οὐ γάρ μοι θνήσκων λεχέων ἐκ χεῖρας ὄρεξας</div>
<div class="verse">Οὐ δὲ τί μοι εἶπες πυκινὸν ἔπος, οὖ τέ κεν αἰεὶ</div>
<div class="verse">Μεμνῄμην νύκτας τε καὶ ἤματα δακρυχέουσα.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>In this ‘Epistle to the Duke de Frias,’ Martinez de la Rosa
has also introduced, as a fit consideration in his grief, the
same topic of the instability of earthly things, which “<a href="#note33" title="See note">the
Roman friend of Rome’s least mortal mind</a>” offered him on
a similar occasion of sympathy. But it also seems a favourite
subject of our poet’s thoughts at all times, as befitting the
philosopher and the scholar, to dwell on the passing nature
of worldly greatness, and so lead the mind to higher suggestions
than those of the present moment. These ideas he
has carried further in another work he has published, ‘Book
for Children,’ in which, like many other eminent characters,
who have given the aid of their talents to the development of
juvenile minds, he has inculcated lessons of virtue, and the
instinct of good taste, with the feelings of patriotism and
religion, as the basis of moral well-being.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p>
<p>Martinez de la Rosa published his works in a collected
form first, in five volumes, 1827-30, at Paris, where they
have been again lately reprinted. Besides these, there have
been two editions in Spain, one at Madrid and the other at
Barcelona. From Her Catholic Majesty he has received the
decoration of the Golden Fleece, the highest order of Spain,
besides other similar honours. But the world at large will
consider his greatest honour to consist in having raised himself
from mediocrity of station, by his talents and exertions,
to the high position he has attained “without stain or reproach,”
while, by his literary works, he has enabled all mankind
to become benefited by his genius, and interested in his
fame.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p>
<h3>FRANCISCO MARTINEZ DE LA ROSA.</h3>
<h4>REMEMBRANCE OF SPAIN,
WRITTEN IN LONDON IN 1811.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse"><a href="#note34" title="See note">I saw upon the shady Thames</a></div>
<div class="verse indent1">Unnumber’d ships with riches fraught;</div>
<div class="verse">I saw the power the nation claims</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Immense, the greatness it has wrought,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And arts that such renown have brought.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But the afflicted mind exhaled</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A thousand sighs; again to view</div>
<div class="verse">The flowery banks the wish prevail’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Where glides the Douro calmly through,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or Henil’s streams their course pursue.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I saw the proud Court’s ladies forth</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Their wealth and grandeur gaily show;</div>
<div class="verse">I saw the beauties of the North,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Their bright complexions white as snow,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Commingling with the rose’s glow.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Their eyes appear’d of heavenly blue,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Their tresses of the purest gold;</div>
<div class="verse">Their stately forms arose to view,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Beneath the veil’s transparent fold,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As white and lovely to behold.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But what avail the gay brocade,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The city’s silks, and jewels’ pride;</div>
<div class="verse">Or charms in rosy smiles array’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With brilliant gaiety supplied,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That all to beauty are allied?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">When but is seen my country girl,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Clad in her robe of simple white,</div>
<div class="verse">Shamed are the needless silk and pearl;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And by her pure and blooming light</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Confused hides beauty at the sight.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Where shall I find in icy clime</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her black and beaming eyes of fire?</div>
<div class="verse">That whether scornfully the time,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To look, or kindly they desire,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To rob me of my peace conspire?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Where the black hair that may like hers</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In hue with ebony compare?</div>
<div class="verse">Where <a href="#note35" title="See note">the light foot that never stirs</a>,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When bounding o’er the meadows fair,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The lowly flowers that blossom there?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Maids of the Henil! dark ye be;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">But ne’er would I exchanged resign</div>
<div class="verse">Your charms for all that here I see,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Proud Albion shows, of brows that fine</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Ev’n as the polish’d ivory shine.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O, father Douro! gentle stream,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Whose sands a golden store supply,</div>
<div class="verse">Deign of my heart the wish supreme</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To hear, thy sacred margins by,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That it may be my lot to die!</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h4>RETURN TO GRANADA,
OCTOBER 27, 1831.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">My loved country! thee again</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I come at length returned to see;</div>
<div class="verse">Thy beauteous soil, thy fields where reign</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Plenty and joy unceasingly!</div>
<div class="verse">Thy radiant sun, thy peaceful skies,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Yes! there extended o’er the plain,</div>
<div class="verse">From hill to hill, I see arise</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The far-famed city! Noble towers,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Midst groves of ever-blooming flowers;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Kissing her walls are crystal streams,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her valley lofty heights surround,</div>
<div class="verse">And the snow-topp’d Sierra gleams,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Crowning the far horizon’s bound.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Not vain thy memory me pursued</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Where’er I stray’d; with that imbued,</div>
<div class="verse">Troubling my hopes, my joys, my rest,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The thoughts my heart and soul oppress’d.</div>
<div class="verse">On the cold margin of the Thames,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or Seine, I thought of thee, and sigh’d</div>
<div class="verse">Again to view the bank that gems</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thy Henil’s or thy Douro’s tide.</div>
<div class="verse">And if perchance my voice essay’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Some gayer song, for short relief,</div>
<div class="verse">Soon for lament the attempts I made</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Were check’d, and doubled was my grief.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Vain the delicious Arno show’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Offering to me her fruitful shore,</div>
<div class="verse">Of peace and loves the soft abode,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With flowers enamell’d o’er.</div>
<div class="verse">“More blooming are the plains where flows</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The gentle Henil through,</div>
<div class="verse">And lovelier still Granada shows</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her pleasant site to view!”</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Murmuring such words in mournful thought,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I oft with tearful eyes repined,</div>
<div class="verse">Upraised to Heaven, as memory brought</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My fathers’ homes and hearths to mind.</div>
<div class="verse">At times the solitary view</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of rural scenes more seem’d to soothe;</div>
<div class="verse">From cities terror-struck I flew,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And breathless, anxious, o’er the uncouth</div>
<div class="verse">Rough Alps I took my way.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But not so pure, so vivid show’d</div>
<div class="verse">Their snowy tops the sun’s bright ray,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As from our snow Sierra glow’d</div>
<div class="verse">The streams of light, the god of day</div>
<div class="verse indent1">O’er earth and heaven bestow’d.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">My griefs Pompeii flatter’d more:</div>
<div class="verse">Its fearful ruins, silent streets,</div>
<div class="verse">Deserted porticos, retreats</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of men with grass run o’er.</div>
<div class="verse">And in my troubled mind began</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Grave thoughts to rise, how vain is all</div>
<div class="verse">The power of miserable man.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To abase his fame, his pride to gall,</div>
<div class="verse">How fate delights! and works that vast</div>
<div class="verse indent1">He rears, and dares eternal call,</div>
<div class="verse">Throws over with a blast!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Today the traveller, as he roves</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Along the Tiber, has to trace</div>
<div class="verse">Through ruins, where that was high Jove’s</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Triumphant city had its place!</div>
<div class="verse">The plough breaks up the fruitful mould,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The sacred relics now we see</div>
<div class="verse">Of Herculaneum that enfold,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As in a darksome tomb! If be</div>
<div class="verse">Pompeii’s walls still standing, yet</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Are their foundations undermined</div>
<div class="verse">By age, and as the rude winds threat,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">They tremble to their fall inclined.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Thus in my youth I saw the tower</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of the superb Alhambra lower,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Broken, and imminent appal</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The Douro threatening with its fall.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Each rapid moment of my life</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Hasten’d the term with ruin rife;</div>
<div class="verse">And of the Alcazar’s sovereign pride,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Where once the Moorish power enchain’d</div>
<div class="verse">Their fame as left to ages wide,</div>
<div class="verse">Mine eyes may soon not find descried</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Its ruins ev’n remain’d.</div>
<div class="verse">As that dark image o’er me glooms,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My heart sinks heavy in my breast;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>
<div class="verse">I bow myself before the tombs,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In tears with grief oppress’d.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">What is thy magic? what may be</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The ineffable enchantment found,</div>
<div class="verse">O, country! O, sweet name, in thee?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Ever so dear to man the sound!</div>
<div class="verse">The sunburnt African will sigh</div>
<div class="verse">For his parch’d sands and burning sky,</div>
<div class="verse">Perchance afar, and round the plains</div>
<div class="verse">However blooming he disdains.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Ev’n the rude Laplander, if fate</div>
<div class="verse">In luckless hour him off has torn</div>
<div class="verse indent1">From his own soil, disconsolate</div>
<div class="verse">Will to return there longing mourn;</div>
<div class="verse">Envying the eternal night’s repose,</div>
<div class="verse">His icebound shores and endless snows.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And I, to whom kind fate assign’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My birth within thy happy fold,</div>
<div class="verse">Granada! and my growth as kind</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Within thy blissful bounds to mould,</div>
<div class="verse">Far from my country, and beset</div>
<div class="verse">With griefs, how could I thee forget?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On Africa’s inhuman shore,</div>
<div class="verse">To the wreck’d seaman rough and drear,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Thy sacred name I o’er and o’er</div>
<div class="verse">Repeated, which the waves to hear</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Back to the Spanish regions bore.</div>
<div class="verse">On the far Pole’s dark furious sea,</div>
<div class="verse">By the Batavian’s energy</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Bridled, again thy name was heard:</div>
<div class="verse">Heard it the Rhone, the foamy Rhine,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The Pyrenæan heights the word</div>
<div class="verse">Repeated with the Apennine,</div>
<div class="verse">And in Vesuvius’ burning cave</div>
<div class="verse">Then first the sound the echos gave.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h4>EPISTLE TO THE DUQUE DE FRIAS,
ON THE DEATH OF THE DUQUESA.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">From the dark gloomy borders of the Seine,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Where with black clouds around the heaven extends,</div>
<div class="verse">The earth o’erwhelm’d with snow, the heart with pain,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thee thy unhappy friend his greeting sends;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">To thee still more unhappy! nor deters</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Him ev’n the fear to touch the wounds unheal’d,</div>
<div class="verse">Yet bleeding sore, or see thee how it stirs</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Fresh tears to bathe thine eyes thy sorrows yield.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">What would he be, if man were not to weep?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A thousand times I’ve thank’d our God, who gave</div>
<div class="verse">The heart to soothe its griefs in tears to steep;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As rain we see subdue the raging wave.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Weep then, ay, weep! others, and abler friends</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As faithful, with success may in thine ears</div>
<div class="verse">Make heard the voice that stoic virtue lends;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But I, who in the world my cup of tears</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Oft to the dregs have drain’d, no cure could find</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For grief, but what from grief I might derive;</div>
<div class="verse">When with vain struggling tired, the powerless mind</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Submissive ceased beneath the weight to strive.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Dear friend! wilt thou believe me? time will come,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When the sharp edge of sorrow worn away,</div>
<div class="verse">That grief and anguish now so burdensome,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">At length a placid sadness will allay;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">In which absorb’d, as yet o’erwhelm’d, the soul</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Folds itself up all silently to bear;</div>
<div class="verse">Nor seeks nor envies, as around they roll,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The world’s delights or pleasures more to share.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thou doubt’st perchance; and once there was a time</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">I also doubted it; and endless thought</div>
<div class="verse">My deep affliction, and insulting crime</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To tell me to an end it could be brought.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And yet it was! for so from God to man</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That is another mercy, which alone,</div>
<div class="verse">Amidst so many woes ’tis his to scan,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Aids him this weary life to suffer on.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Hope then, believe my words, and trust in me:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Who in this world the unhappy privilege</div>
<div class="verse">Has bought so dear to speak of misery?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">These many years that saw it me assiege,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Saw me no day but as the plaything vile</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of a dire fate, that like a shrub amain</div>
<div class="verse">The hurricane tears up, and raised awhile</div>
<div class="verse indent1">It fiercely dashes to the earth again.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I know it true, against the blows of fate,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When that against ourselves they only glance,</div>
<div class="verse">The firm heart shielded can withstand its hate;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But so it is not oft: and thou, perchance,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Mayst think I never one have lost I loved</div>
<div class="verse indent1">More than my life. If sorrow will give truce</div>
<div class="verse">Thee for a moment, turn thine eyes disproved</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To an unhappy orphan, weak, recluse,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And sorrowing solitary in the world,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Without scarce one to whom to weep his woe;</div>
<div class="verse">For to the grave relentless death had hurl’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">One after one, all he was born to know.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">In the same season, thou wilt see sufficed</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thy loss to open forth the wounds I bear,</div>
<div class="verse">I lost a mother kind, and idolized,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My joy, and comforter in every care;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">On her steps my reaved father to the grave</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Soon follow’d, and both sank o’erwhelm’d in tears,</div>
<div class="verse">Calling my name afar; the cries they gave</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Fell on my heart, but not upon my ears.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I ran, I flew, I came, but all in vain:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Both now beneath the fatal stone reposed,</div>
<div class="verse">And I my height of anguish to attain,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But found the covering earth yet newly closed.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thou in thy grave affliction more hast found</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thee to console, if possible; (how turn</div>
<div class="verse">Rebels against me thy own woes around!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">From my rude voice perforce thou hast to learn</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">That he who fortune flatter’d not before,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Will neither flatter grief) thou in thy loss</div>
<div class="verse">Hast found a thousand comforts, which forbore</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My cruel fate to grant my path across;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thou soothing saw’st thy wife in her last pains;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Her last sigh couldst receive; couldst press her hands,</div>
<div class="verse">Her arms raised to thee, and her pledge remains</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In thine, her daughter still thy love demands.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But I, not wishing it, am in thy breast</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A dagger striking, thus again to view</div>
<div class="verse">That fatal night’s dark image to suggest,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When life with death its fearful struggles drew.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Now ended are her pains, for ever o’er!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Herself she pray’d for it, with pious eyes</div>
<div class="verse">To heaven, and hope, amidst the pangs she bore,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Shone on her brow serene in death to rise.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O! were it given us to penetrate</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The secrets of the tomb, how oft our grief</div>
<div class="verse">Would it not soften down, however great!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In this same moment who of the belief</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Could not assure thee, while thou dost lament,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Unhappy, thy lost wife’s untimely doom,</div>
<div class="verse">That she is there enjoying permanent</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A lot more happy than this side the tomb?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thou, silent, lowly bendest down thy head;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But thou mayst not be silent; answer me;</div>
<div class="verse">Sound, if thou darest it, the abyss to tread,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That separates thy lost loved wife from thee.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Take through eternity thy course, and then</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Tell me of where she is, what is her state?</div>
<div class="verse">Happy or miserable? or again,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">We should rejoice in, or lament her fate?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">To thee I may repeat it, others gay</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Will laugh at my dark fancy; not long past</div>
<div class="verse">The time I was by that enchanting bay</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of the Tyrrhenian sea; the city vast,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Mother of pleasures, I forsook, and bent,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Absorb’d, my feeble steps, where lowly lies</div>
<div class="verse">Pompeii; palaces with gardens blent</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And fountains brilliant, shone before my eyes;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But deeper penetrates the mind, and sad,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Slowly along I went with heavy heart:</div>
<div class="verse">Flowers amid lava grew! and rich, and glad</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Today the scenes on every side impart</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The towns and villages, which others hide</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That stood as happy there a former day;</div>
<div class="verse">Those now that flourish built up by the side</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of some forgotten that have pass’d away.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">At length I came where we the walls descry</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of the deserted city, which the abode</div>
<div class="verse">Proclaim’d it was of men in times gone by;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Their sepulchres stood bordering the road!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">There for a resting-place the traveller stays,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">For shade and for repose: the gate now gain’d,</div>
<div class="verse">Awhile the vacillating foot delays</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To enter, as if fearing it profaned</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Too bold the mansions of the dead. No word,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">No sound, no murmur. It would seem that there</div>
<div class="verse">Ev’n Echo’s self is mute, no answer heard!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Slowly I through the narrow streets repair</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Without a human footstep! Porticos</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And plazas by no living beings trod,</div>
<div class="verse">Walls with deserted hearths, and temples rose</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And altars, without victims or a god.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">How little, mean and miserable seem’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The world before mine eyes, when there I stood!</div>
<div class="verse">A bitter smile upon my features gleam’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To think of man’s ambition, schemes of blood,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And projects without end, when by a blast,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Like smoke, their good and evil are represt;</div>
<div class="verse">Ashes a mighty city overcast,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As light dust covers o’er some poor ants’ nest!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thus wrapp’d in mournful thoughts, I paced along</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That vast and silent precinct, as behind</div>
<div class="verse">Roves some unbodied shade the tombs among;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The ties me yet to this low earth that bind</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I felt to loosen, and the soul set free</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Launch’d itself forth, ev’n into endless space,</div>
<div class="verse">Leaving behind it ages.—Couldst thou see</div>
<div class="verse indent1">What is this wretched life, compared its trace</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">With that immensity, most surely, friend,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In thine eyes would remain congeal’d those tears,</div>
<div class="verse">Which now profuse thou shedd’st, and thou wouldst bend</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Down on the earth thy gaze, where soon appears,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thyself must see, the end of all our toil;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The rest that she enjoys beyond the sky,</div>
<div class="verse">For whom thou weep’st, whilst o’er this care-worn soil</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Dragging life’s heavy burden, as do I.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Yet till ’tis granted thee to meet again</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thy lost adored, the moments consecrate</div>
<div class="verse">Of absence to her memory that remain:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thy heart let her remembrance animate;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Let thy lips ever her dear name repeat:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Nor how forget that clear ingenuous mind,</div>
<div class="verse">That heavenly beauty, generous soul, to meet</div>
<div class="verse indent1">So rare! the world admired such gifts combined.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But now I see thee to the dusky grove</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of cypress and rose-bay trees take thy way;</div>
<div class="verse">On thy right hand a crown is hanging, wove</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of mournful everlastings; nor astray</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thine eyes scarce raising, fearing to behold</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">The monument of thine eternal grief,</div>
<div class="verse">That guards her ashes! Different she consoled,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Hastening in charity, as for relief</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The poor unhappy and the orphans knew!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For whom she ever show’d a parent’s care:</div>
<div class="verse">They who partook her gifts and kindness true,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Now in long files and slow, thy griefs to share</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Silent and mournful on thy steps attend,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Around her tomb; dost thou not hear them? theirs,</div>
<div class="verse">Theirs are the tearful sobbings that ascend,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And cries that interrupt the funeral prayers.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Not ev’n a flower to deck her sepulchre,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Have I to send thee! flowers may not be grown</div>
<div class="verse">To bud in beds of ice; or if they were,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">They soon would wither at my touch alone.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p>
<h4>ANACREONTIC.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Let the thunder burst,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Pour out and drink the wine!</div>
<div class="verse">Thou never saw’st a thunderbolt</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Strike the tender vine.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Vesuvius himself</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To Bacchus tribute pays,</div>
<div class="verse">And spares the vineyard flourishing,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Where his lava sways.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">In Italy in vain</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I hero sought or sage;</div>
<div class="verse">Mine eyes but dusty ruins found,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Mouldering with age.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Of Rome the image scarce</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Remains to be portray’d;</div>
<div class="verse">A tomb is Herculaneum,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Pompeii is a shade.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But I found Falernum,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His nectar rich remain’d,</div>
<div class="verse">And in memory of Horace,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A bottleful I drain’d.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p>
<h4>BACCHANALIAN.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">In chorus we sing, of wine, sweet wine,</div>
<div class="verse">Its power benign, and its flavour divine.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Against power so sweet</div>
<div class="verse indent1">No guard is secure,</div>
<div class="verse">Nor gate, nor yet wall,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Nor will castle endure,</div>
<div class="verse">Nor doubtings, nor watchings,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">How strict or demure.</div>
<div class="verse right">Chorus.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">With thee the fair maiden</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Shows herself fairer,</div>
<div class="verse">With thee has the matron</div>
<div class="verse indent1">New beauty to glare her;</div>
<div class="verse">Ev’n the sad widow</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Finds love an ensnarer.</div>
<div class="verse right">Chorus.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">With thee the poor captive,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Though heavy his chains,</div>
<div class="verse">Ne’er feels in his feasting</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or torments or pains,</div>
<div class="verse">But a place with his lord</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As an equal he gains.</div>
<div class="verse right">Chorus.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">With thee the worn seaman</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">The south wind defies,</div>
<div class="verse">While echoes the thunder</div>
<div class="verse indent1">He singing replies,</div>
<div class="verse">And of winds and the waves</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Will the fury despise.</div>
<div class="verse right">Chorus.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thou hast power o’er the lip</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of the fool and the sage,</div>
<div class="verse">From the breast to root out</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Gall, venom and rage,</div>
<div class="verse">What rancour and envy</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Would hide, to assuage.</div>
<div class="verse right">Chorus.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">With thee will the coward</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of courage make show,</div>
<div class="verse">The niggard so vile</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Learn bounteous to grow,</div>
<div class="verse">And the feeble and old</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Fresh vigour to know.</div>
<div class="verse right">Chorus.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thy colour so pure</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Outrivals the flowers,</div>
<div class="verse">Thy odorous essence</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The rich myrrh’s showers,</div>
<div class="verse">The rosemary honey</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thy taste overpowers.</div>
<div class="verse right">Chorus.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Oblivion thou givest</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">To troubles and sorrow,</div>
<div class="verse">Joys fleeting a show</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of eternal to borrow,</div>
<div class="verse">And robb’st of its horrors</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The fate of tomorrow.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">In chorus we sing, of wine, sweet wine,</div>
<div class="verse">Its power benign, and its flavour divine.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="VIII">VIII.<br />
<span class="smaller">ANGEL DE SAAVEDRA,
DUKE DE RIVAS.</span></h3>
<p>There are few persons to whom Fortune can be said to have
“come with both hands full,” more truly than to the illustrious
subject of this notice; even the very reverses of life,
which have fallen to his lot, have come like favours; as they
have been incurred honourably, and have proved the harbingers
of many advantages.</p>
<p>Angel de Saavedra was born at Cordova, the 1st March,
1791, the second son of Don Juan Martin de Saavedra,
Duke de Rivas, and Donna Maria Ramirez, Marchioness of
Andia, Grandees of Spain, both persons not less eminent for
private virtues than for their exalted rank. He received
his primary education under his father’s care; but he dying
in 1802, Angel was then removed to the College of Nobles
at Madrid. In accordance with the privileges then enjoyed
by youths of noble birth, he was, while yet a child of ten
months, nominated a cornet of cavalry, and held a commission
as captain when but seven years old. At that age, pursuing
his studies, it was observed that he did not show much
application or inclination for abstruser subjects; but his quickness
of apprehension, and felicity of memory gave him a sup<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>eriority
over his companions, many of whom were distinguished
for much greater industry. History and poetry were, from
his earliest years, his favourite subjects of study; and in original
compositions and translations from the classics, he then
already began to show the bent of his genius. At the same
time he also began to show his great talent for drawing, in
which art, no less than in poetry, he has so much excelled;
and it is recorded that for the greatest punishment to be
awarded him for juvenile delinquencies, it was found sufficient
to take away his pencils, and forbid his taking his
drawing lesson for the day.</p>
<p>In 1806 the regiment, to which he was attached, had orders
to join Napoleon’s army in Germany, with the Spanish contingent;
whereupon the Duchess de Rivas, as her son’s guardian,
procured his exchange into the Royal Guard, by which
he lost rank, having now only that of a sub-lieutenant, in the
rank as a guardsman. Having joined this corps in the beginning
of 1807, it was the lot of Don Angel to witness the
scenes which then occurred in the palace, little creditable to
any of the parties, including the arrest of the Prince of the
Asturias, afterwards Ferdinand VII., and the proceedings
against him. It was perhaps fortunate for the young guardsman
that he was so soon called into active service. A privileged
corps is always a dangerous trial for a young man
entering into life; though, in addition to his own right-mindedness,
he had the good fortune to be joined to the Flemish
battalion of the guard, where he became intimate with a
young Belgian officer of kindred tastes and character, who,
by example and association, confirmed him in his inclinations.
He also became acquainted with some other young men who
had the conducting of a literary periodical, to which he contributed
several articles, both in prose and verse. For a
young man of sixteen, desirous of distinction, this was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>
privilege which could not fail of producing good results in
subsequent improvement, if his early efforts were found to be
approved, as an encouragement to continue them.</p>
<p>From such occupations was Saavedra called away soon, to
engage in the important events, upon which the future fate of
his country was to depend. Napoleon’s troops had crossed
the Pyrenees, and under pretence of marching through the
country to Portugal, had seized upon the principal fortresses
of Spain. The Court of Madrid, aware too late of the
treachery intended, was thrown into irremediable confusion,
heightened by the internal dissensions of the royal family.
The troops at Madrid were summoned in haste to the king
at Aranjuez, when Saavedra among them witnessed the pitiable
scenes, which ended in the abdication of Charles IV.
and the declaration of Ferdinand VII., in whose escort he returned
to Madrid. But the French armies were already in
possession of the country, and had the royal family in their
power. They soon had further possession of Madrid, and
the guards, in which Saavedra’s elder brother, the Duke de
Rivas, was also serving with him, were ordered away to the
Escurial, as the French leaders were aware of the part they
had taken at Aranjuez, and were fearful of their influence
with the people, in the course of resistance then widely
spreading against the invaders.</p>
<p>Murat, then chief of the French forces, and of the provisional
government, had good reason to fear that so influential
a body as the Royal Guards, all composed of individuals
of rank, might be induced to take part with the insurrectionists
in the rising struggle; and he therefore sent to
them to the Escurial, one of the principal Spanish officers,
also one of the Royal Guard, who had attached himself to
the French interest, to persuade the others to join the same
cause. This officer having accordingly come to the Escur<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>ial,
called together the members of the guard, and stating to
them that the students of the Military College at Segovia
were in a state of rebellion against the authorities, expressed
Murat’s wish that the guards should join the French troops
to suppress the movement, to prevent further ill-consequences.
The assembly received the proposal at first in silence and
perplexity. But it was one of those occasions when a right
mind and strong heart availed more than conventional dignity;
and thus, though perhaps the youngest person present,
Angel de Saavedra rose up, and with all the impetuosity of
youth, declared in impassioned language, that “none of the
guard would do treason to their country, or become an instrument
of foreign tyranny, for the oppression and punishment
of their companions in arms.” He therefore, in the
name of his comrades, gave a positive refusal to the mandate.</p>
<p>In this, his first harangue, the spirit was as noble, as the
sentiments were bold and patriotic. The manner in which
it was received showed that it was also in unison with the
feelings of the rest of the guard, and Murat’s messenger was
obliged to content himself with attempting to reprove the
young officer, who had ventured to speak before others, so
much his superiors in rank and service. But his efforts were
of no avail, and he had to return to Madrid, with the information
that the guards were also apparently about to join
the national party. These passed the night in watch, with
their arms and horses prepared, for whatever might be the
result. In the morning they received orders to return to
Madrid, and obeying the order, at halting for the night,
came to deliberate on the course they should adopt. Some
thought it would be better to disperse, and go to their respective
provinces, to join the several parties already armed in
resistance against the invaders. Others, among whom were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>
the two brothers, Saavedra and the Duke de Rivas, thought
it would be better for them to keep united, and join as a
body, with their standards, the first effective Spanish force
they could meet. Unfortunately there was no one of sufficient
authority present to command; and the first suggestion,
where most of them naturally wished to share the fates of
their families, prevailed. Accordingly they dispersed, and
the two brothers entered Madrid secretly, finding that those
who remained together were too few to remain as a body,
against the numerous bands of the enemy spread over the
country.</p>
<p>The first wish of the brothers was to join Palafox at Zaragoza,
and they started for that purpose with false passports;
but found the road too closely beset by the French. In one
place, however, they met with a mischance on the other side;
where the people, now risen against the invaders, fancied that
the travellers who were going armed so mysteriously, were
emissaries of the French, and would listen to no declaration
to the contrary. Fortunately there happened to be in the
town a comrade of the guard, well known there, who hearing
the uproar, came and recognized the prisoners, and assuring
the multitude of their true character, made them be received
with as much enthusiastic welcome, as they had just before
been with violence.</p>
<p>Turning from this course, the two brothers then hastened
back to join the forces under Castanios, flushed with their
triumph at Bailen; and at Sepulveda, Angel Saavedra had
his first encounter in fight with the French. With the army
he joined, he found about 200 of his comrades of the guards,
and these, as a body, now effected much service in the various
skirmishes and actions that took place. They had these with
varied success at Ucles, Tudela, and other places, where the
two brothers distinguished themselves by their activity and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>
bravery. At Tudela the Duke had his horse killed, and
received several contusions, which resulted in a fever, on
account of which his brother had to take him to their mother’s
care at Cordova.</p>
<p>Having recovered from this, they again joined the army,
and were present at “the memorable battle of Talavera,”
after which they had to share in the several encounters of
Caminias, Madrilejos and Herencia. But now a severer trial
awaited them. On the 18th of November, 1809, on the eve
of the disastrous battle of Ocania, the French and Spanish
forces had an encounter at Antigola, when the Royal Guards,
under the Duke de Rivas, though pressed by superior numbers,
charged three times on the enemy, before they retired,
with the loss of one-third of their number, to Ocania.</p>
<p>In this skirmish, Angel Saavedra had his horse killed at
the beginning of the affray, and then had to fight hand to
hand at a disadvantage. Thus he soon received two wounds
in the head, and another in the breast from a lance which
prostrated him, and left him insensible, while the combatants
were riding over him and others laid in the same state.
About the middle of the night he recovered his sensibility,
and found he had been robbed of his clothes. He attempted to
rise, but fell down again, unable to move. Happily for him
he had sufficient strength to call to a man he saw near, who
proved to be a Spanish soldier seeking for spoils, and he,
learning the name of the wounded officer, put him on his
horse, and took him to his brother. The Duke, who had
already been searching for him, and had sent others out for
the same purpose unavailingly, now hastened to procure for
him medical assistance. With much difficulty he found a
surgeon, who, on seeing the patient, declared the case hopeless,
and left him to attend to others. The cold air had
arrested the bleeding, which now burst forth from the motion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>
of the horse and the warmth of the room used for the hospital,
so as to leave him apparently dying. The Duke was in despair,
when the people about him brought the barber of the
place to dress the wounds, which he did with great skill,
giving him hopes of success in saving his brother’s life.</p>
<p>As the morning broke, the drums were heard beating for
action, announcing the advance of the enemy. The Duke
had barely time to procure a common cart of the country
into which to place his brother, who was found to have no
fewer than eleven wounds upon him, and send him away with
seven other wounded companions, before he had to join his
troop. Going slowly along, the seven died by his side one
after another, and in a few hours they were overtaken by
fugitives, whose flight showed the ill-fortune of the day.
Saavedra might have shared this ill-fortune further; but one
of the escort knew the country well and took him along by-paths
to a retired place, where his wounds were again dressed,
and afterwards to Baeza, in which city he found better attendance.
There, after three weeks, all his wounds were healed,
except the one in the breast, and one in the hip, from which
he was lame for some years afterwards. He then was enabled
to proceed to his mother at Cordova, and there was received,
in his native place, with marks of public respect, which could
not fail of being very gratifying to his feelings, though at the
expense of so much suffering.</p>
<p>In the beginning of 1810 the French came marching towards
Cordova, and Saavedra and his mother fled to Malaga.
He had frequent bleeding, apparently from the lungs, and
his medical advisers were fearful that any extraordinary exertion
would have a fatal result. Before they could embark at
Malaga for any other place, the French had got possession of
the city, and Saavedra and the Duchess had to take refuge,
disguised, in a fisherman’s hut. In this extremity they were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>
found by a Spanish officer in the French interest, who had
formerly shared their hospitality at Cordova, and he repaid it
now by procuring for them passports and giving them the
means to get to Gibraltar, whence they passed over to Cadiz,
then the last hope of Spain.</p>
<p>Arrived at Cadiz, Saavedra was received with the consideration
due to his merits. He was put into active service, as
far as his strength would allow, and on the staff his talents
for drawing as well as for ready composition were found of
great value. Many of the military reports were written by
him; and he also wrote a defence of the military establishments
against a pamphlet which had been published, conducting
at the same time a military periodical, published
weekly, at Cadiz, throughout 1811. Thrown into association
with such men as the Conde de Noronia, Arriaza, Quintana,
and Martinez de la Rosa, his love for poetry was further excited,
and he composed verses like them, some of which have
been preserved among his later works, while he has allowed
others to be forgotten. He continued also cultivating his
taste for drawing, attending the schools at Cadiz to draw
from life as well as from the models; while at leisure moments
on duty he amused himself with sketching portraits of
his comrades, or of the scenes presented to their view.</p>
<p>But his military duties did not cease at Cadiz. Having
been sent out on important commissions with orders, he was
led away by his ardour to join in the encounter which took
place with the French at Chiclana, in forgetfulness of the
commission with which he was charged. Afterwards a division
of the army being found in a state of resistance to the
orders of the Regency, on account of their general refusing
to acknowledge the Duke of Wellington as commander-in-chief,
Saavedra was sent with full powers to arrest the disorder.
This he did effectually, drawing the division out of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>
Cordova in good order, after deposing the general and other
chiefs of the insurrection, who but for this might have brought
further reverses on the Spanish arms, such as so many other
incapable officers had done previously, influenced in like
manner by their presumption and self-conceit.</p>
<p>Saavedra, so far from joining in the vanity and folly of
those of his countrymen, who fancied themselves competent to
act independently of the British commander, on the contrary,
sought to be employed on the staff under the immediate orders
of Lord Wellington, but he could not effect it. The wound in
his breast again occasioned large effusions of blood from the
mouth, and he was obliged to return to Seville, and ultimately
was quartered at Cordova. When the war came to an end,
he, under these circumstances, retired from military service
with the rank of lieutenant-colonel.</p>
<p>While at Cadiz, Saavedra had joined, unreservedly, in the
councils of those who framed and attempted to establish
in Spain the constitution of 1812. When Ferdinand VII.
returned and set it aside, he therefore fully expected that he
would be included in the proscription directed against Martinez
de la Rosa and others who had distinguished themselves
in the assertion of liberal opinions. But instead of this, the
king, who probably considered him more of a military than a
political character, received him favourably, and gave him the
rank of colonel, assigning him Seville for his residence. There
accordingly he retired, and while Spain was subjected to the
rule of absolutism, employed himself in literary pursuits and
drawing, for which the magnificent paintings of Murillo and
other Spanish masters in that city gave one of his inclinations
so great an incentive. In 1813 he published a volume of
poems, and in the following six years brought forward several
plays, some of which were represented at Seville with considerable
applause, and one had the “marked honour of being prohibited<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>
by the censorship.” These he republished in a second
edition of his works at Madrid in 1821, but though favourably
received at the time, they are all acknowledged now to be of
little merit. In fact, at that time, having studied principally
the later poets of the classical school as it was termed, his
mind had not yet attained that expansiveness and vigour
which subsequent years of study were destined to give it.</p>
<p>In 1820 Saavedra happened to be in Madrid, probably engaged
in superintending this edition of his works, when the
events of that year brought into power the party with whom
he had been associated at Cadiz at the time of the siege.
With characteristic ardour he entered again into close alliance
with them, resuming the principles he had previously maintained
with them. But though now those friends were in
office, he sought nothing for himself further than leave to
travel into neighbouring countries, which permission he had
sought in vain from the previous government. This favour
he now obtained, with full salary allowed, and a commission
to examine the military establishments of other nations, and
to report to the government on their advances and improvements.
He went accordingly to Paris, and after a careful
attention to the duties entrusted to him, was about proceeding
to Italy, when he was called back to Spain to engage in a
new career of public importance.</p>
<p>Before going to Paris, Saavedra had paid a short visit to
his native city, and there formed a close intimacy with Alcala
Galiano, one of the most learned and talented men of his age,
who, with Don Javier Isturitz (the present respected Minister
of her Catholic Majesty at London), was now at the head of
the government. Galiano, by the fascination of his eloquence,
had completely won the good feelings of the young poet, and
inspired by the desire of having so able and popular a follower
in the legislature, had procured his election as Deputy to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>the
Cortes from Cordova. Flattered by the favour shown him
by his fellow-townsmen, Saavedra entered with his accustomed
ardour on his duties, and was appointed Secretary to
the Cortes, where he came forward as one of the most vehement
speakers in the maintenance of liberal opinions. But
those opinions were not responded to by the great mass of
the people, and were opposed by the foreign courts of Europe.
Saavedra had voted for the removal of the court to Seville,
and there further voted for the suspension of the king and
his transference to Cadiz, when the entry of the French army
re-established Ferdinand on his throne. On the 1st October,
1822, Saavedra and Galiano had to take flight from Cadiz to
Gibraltar, where he remained till the following May, when
he proceeded to London to join the other emigrants there,
Isturitz, Galiano, the celebrated Arguelles, whom his countrymen,
on account of his remarkable eloquence, have termed
the divine, and others.</p>
<p>Even during his short political career, Saavedra had continued
his literary pursuits, and now in London he renewed
them, writing his poem ‘Florinda’ and minor pieces, as well as
continuing his recreative art of drawing. For his participation
in the proceedings against the king, he had been sentenced
to death, and his property had been sequestrated. This same
measure had been visited on his brother, the Duke de Rivas,
who had taken part also in the proceedings, and thus Saavedra
had become reduced to very straitened circumstances. Their
mother, with natural feeling, forwarded him all the supplies
in her power; but these were scanty, and it was necessary for
him to seek means of subsistence for himself. He therefore
determined on going to Italy to perfect himself in the art of
painting, as the best means of employment left him, finding
the climate of England also too rigorous for his constitution.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p>
<p>As the Spanish emigrants were forbidden to go to Italy,
the Duchess de Rivas besought the Pope’s Nuncio at Madrid
to grant her son a passport and obtain for him permission to
go there for the purposes specified. The Nuncio having
communicated with Rome, was enabled to reply, that “as
Don Angel Saavedra engaged neither to speak nor to write
on political subjects in Italy, nor to frequent English society,
his passport would be granted him, assuring him he would
there find hospitality and protection.” The required securities
having been given, and the Nuncio’s authorization obtained,
on which he had himself written, “Given by express order
of His Holiness,” Saavedra left London in December, 1824,
for Gibraltar, where he remained till the June following. In
the meantime he there married, according to previous arrangement,
Donna Maria de la Encarnacion Cueto, daughter of a
distinguished colonel of artillery, and then, with his young
wife, proceeded to Leghorn. Arrived at this city, and presenting
his passport to the Roman consul, he was told that,
notwithstanding the assurances given him, he was now forbidden
to go to Rome; besides which he received an order
from the Tuscan government to leave their territories within
three days. Finding all remonstrances useless, Saavedra now,
in right of a passport from Gibraltar, applied for aid to the
British consul, who took him to his house, and as the only
means of putting him in safety, embarked him on board a
small Maltese vessel then about to sail for that island. After
a protracted voyage, with wretched accommodations and subjected
to great peril in a storm, when the men abandoned
their tasks, and the captain and Saavedra had to compel
them by blows even to resume their labours, they at length
reached Malta. Here Saavedra intended to have remained
only until he could obtain the means of returning to Gibraltar;
but the advantages of climate, of cheapness of living,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>
and the reception he met with from the English authorities,
induced him to continue there, until his stay at length extended
to five years’ residence.</p>
<p>Fortunately for him, there happened then to be residing at
Malta Mr. J. H. Frere, formerly British Minister at Madrid,
who, in addition to a highly cultivated taste and great general
knowledge, was well conversant with the Spanish language
and literature also in particular. With this gentleman
Saavedra soon entered into terms of intimate friendship, and
was taught by him to turn his thoughts from the tame class of
poetry he had copied from the French school, and elevate his
mind to the high tone of the older poets of Spain, as well as
to the study of English literature. These lessons he followed,
and thus proved another instance of the remark of Plutarch,
that the Muses often suggest the best and most approved
productions of genius, taking exile as their means to aid them:
Καὶ γὰρ τοῖς παλαιοῖς (ὥς ἔοικεν) αἱ Μοῦσαι τὰ κάλλιστα
τῶν συνταγμάτων καὶ δοκιμώτατα, φυγὴν λάβουσαι σύνεργον,
ἐπετέλεσαν.</p>
<p>At first Saavedra continued his former style of writing,
but after a short time his mind seemed suddenly to expand,
and to act under the influence of another genius. He finished,
after his arrival at Malta, his poem of ‘Florinda,’ and wrote
there several plays, of the same character as those he had
formerly written, but at the same time showed that a change
was coming over his mind, by an ‘Ode to the Lighthouse at
Malta,’ known to the reader by Mr. Frere’s translation of it,
which for spirit and range of thought proved itself the offspring
of another and truer inspiration. The expectations
thus raised were destined to be fully realized, and the poem
he then began, and published subsequently, the ‘Moro
Esposito,’ or ‘Foundling Moor,’ proved one of a class entirely
unknown to Spanish literature, but quite in accordan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>ce
with the national genius, so as to be at once accepted by
the Spanish public, as entitled to their unqualified admiration.
To use the words of <a href="#note36" title="See note">his biographer, Pastor Diaz</a>, himself
a writer of considerable reputation, “This work, which
had no model, nor has yet had a rival, is one of the most
precious jewels of our literature, and in our judgement the
most beautiful flower of his poetic crown.”</p>
<p>But it was not to poetry alone that Saavedra gave his
attention at Malta. He continued also his application to
painting, not having forgotten his original intention of
adopting this art professionally. Notwithstanding <a href="#note37" title="See note">the advantages
he enjoyed there</a>, however, he was anxious to be
nearer his own country, and sought permission to go to
France, for which purpose he had an English vessel of war
assigned to take him to Marseilles. On arriving there, instead
of being allowed to go to Paris as he desired, he was
directed to fix his residence at Orleans, where, having exhausted
the means afforded him for subsistence, he found it
necessary to establish a school for drawing. In this he met
with some success, having obtained various pupils and commissions
for portraits, and a painting which he had finished
with care and ability having been bought at a high price for
the museum of the city. Four others of his paintings are
in the choir of the cathedral at Seville.</p>
<p>After a few months’ residence at Orleans, the revolution of
July, 1830, allowed him to go to Paris, where he found his
valued friends Isturitz and Galiano, both, like himself, having
moderated the warmth of early opinions by the effect of observation
as well as of time. Instead of interfering in political
questions therefore, he continued his artistic labours.
Several portraits he had painted appeared in the Exhibition of
1831 at the Louvre, and his name is to be found in the list
for that year of professional artists established in Paris. In<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>
consequence of the cholera having broken out there, Saavedra
soon after retired to Tours, where he finished his poem, the
‘Moro Esposito,’ and the Tragedy, ‘Don Alvaro,’ publishing
the former at Paris in two volumes, in 1833.</p>
<p>On the death of Ferdinand VII., under the milder sway
of Queen Christina, the emigrants hitherto excluded from
Spain were allowed to return to their country. Angel
Saavedra hastened to take advantage of the amnesty, and
arrived in Spain the 1st of January, 1834, to take the oaths
required; after which he took up his residence at Madrid,
and gave his adhesion to the government over which Martinez
de la Rosa then presided. Now, however, an important
change came over his fortunes, which brought him still more
prominently before the world, and involved him again in the
vicissitudes of public life.</p>
<p>On the 15th of May, 1834, his elder brother died without
children; and Angel Saavedra thereupon succeeded to his
honours as Duke de Rivas, and to the family estates entailed
with the title. As a Grandee of Spain, the new Duke had
to take his place in the Chamber of Peers, where he was
chosen, on the 24th of July following, second Secretary, and
shortly after, first Secretary of the Chamber and Vice-President.
Here again, as formerly in the Cortes, he then took
his part in the public debates, having on several occasions
shown himself to possess great oratorical abilities. One
speech he made on the exclusion of Don Carlos and his
descendants from the Spanish throne, has been particularly
mentioned as combining much eloquence with high political
considerations.</p>
<p>But notwithstanding his elevation and parliamentary duties,
he still continued his literary pursuits. Having finished the
Tragedy of ‘Don Alvaro,’ he now brought it forward, and it
is not too much to say that never had a drama been produced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>
in Spain of so high a character, or that was attended with
such success. At first it was received with wonder, then
with long and loud applause; it was repeated at every theatre
in Spain, and still continues to excite the admiration of audiences,
casting into the shade all his former dramatic productions,
and in fact causing a revolution in the dramatic
art of the Spanish stage. The old worn-out characters and
constantly recurring self-same incidents that had encumbered
the scenes have since been swept away, and a higher tone
has been in consequence adopted by later writers, though
still this remarkable production remains without a rival on
the Spanish stage. Yet it is not without faults, and it has
been subjected to severe criticisms; but on the representation,
so absorbing is the interest which it is said to excite,
that all faults are lost sight of in admiration. The subject
of the drama is that of the old Greek tragedy, Fatality.
Don Alvaro is an Œdipus, destined for misfortune, and not
even religion can save him from his mission of crime. “It is
a character which belongs to no determinate epoch, perhaps
more universal in this as it belongs to all, like the heroes of
Shakespeare.” There can be no question but that it was
the study of Shakespeare which elevated his genius to the
production of this masterpiece of the modern Spanish theatre,
as had the study of Walter Scott and Byron enabled him to
give the world the great poem of the ‘Moro Esposito.’</p>
<p>On the 15th of May, 1836, the Duke de Rivas was called
on to join the government formed by his friends Isturitz and
Galiano, to which he consented with much reluctance. But
this ministry was doomed to be of short duration, and was
overthrown in the midst of popular commotions. The Duke
had to take refuge in the house of the British Minister, the
present Earl of Clarendon, where he remained twenty-four
days, refusing to emigrate as others of his colleagues had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>
done, though at last he felt himself compelled to do so.
With much difficulty he then escaped, and after many perils,
passing through Portugal, arrived at Gibraltar.</p>
<p>The moderate counsels of the Isturitz ministry were not
agreeable to the temper of the public, and thus the Duke de
Rivas was now driven into banishment by his former friends
the liberals, as he had formerly been by their mutual enemies
the Absolutists. At Gibraltar he thereupon remained a year,
dedicating himself again to poetry and painting, having then
composed much of his next, and perhaps most popular work,
‘Historical Romances.’ On the promulgation of the constitution
of 1837, accepted by the Queen, the Duke gave in
his adhesion to it, and was thus enabled to return to his
family from his second exile, on the 1st of August of that
year.</p>
<p>In the ensuing elections, the Duke was elected Senator
for Cadiz, when, in consonance with his principles, he gave
his general support to the ministry, and distinguished himself
by several animated discourses he pronounced in the
Chamber; particularly one in favour of returning to the
nunneries their sequestrated properties, and another for
maintaining to the Basque provinces their ancient privileges
and rights. For this just and disinterested advocacy of their
interests, the constituents inhabiting the two provinces of
Biscay and Alava respectively elected him to the Senate in
1840, though the government which then existed did not
think proper to sanction their choice.</p>
<p>Shortly after this, another change occurred in the government,
and under the administration of Narvaez, the Duke de
Rivas was appointed Minister from Her Catholic Majesty to
the Court at Naples, in which city he continued upwards of
five years in that mission; during also the residence of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>Pius
IX. there, while a fugitive from Rome. On the marriage of
the Conde de Montemolin, eldest son of Don Carlos, with a
sister of the King of the two Sicilies, he demanded his passport,
leaving his post, for which he received the approbation
of his sovereign. Since his return to Spain, the Duke has
been again appointed Vice-President of the Senate, but
seems to have taken little part in public affairs.</p>
<p>Mr. Borrow, in his very amusing work, ‘The Bible in
Spain,’ describes the Duke de Rivas, in 1836, as “a very
handsome man;” and so his portraits represent him, agreeing
with all the accounts of his personal appearance and courtly
manners. Favoured by fortune with the possession of high
rank and ample means, he has been still further favoured in
his domestic relations, and with a large family, the solace of
his age. We have thus traced him through life, distinguished,
in every stage in which he has had to exert himself, for
eminent ability as well as honourable conduct. As a soldier,
engaged in the noblest of causes, the defence of his country,
he showed himself conspicuous among the most active and
bravest of her defenders. In public life, as an orator, a
diplomatist and a statesman, he has proved equally eminent.
In private life, he has been no less exemplary for the exercise
of the domestic virtues, having in his needs exerted himself
to discharge his duty to his family, by the practice of the
talents with which he had been endowed, as an artist of
superior proficiency. As a dramatist, his works have in
that most difficult department gained the fullest success;
and in poetry he is the only modern writer in Spain who has
given the world a poem of the highest class, combining
varied incidents with well-drawn characters and a sustained
interest. Our greatest poet of modern days felt constrained
to say,</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse indent9">I twine</div>
<div class="verse">My hopes of being remember’d in my line</div>
<div class="verse">With my land’s language;</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class="noindent">and in such aspirations may the Duke de Rivas indulge in
the retrospect of his past labours to ensure for him a like
future remembrance.</p>
<p>Passing by the poems written under the influence of an
adhesion to the rules of the classical school, we find the
poem of the ‘Moro Esposito,’ or ‘Cordova and Burgos in
the fifteenth century,’ well-deserving of being classed with
the poetical romances of Sir Walter Scott, on the model of
which it was written. The subject is the History of the
Seven Infantes of Lara, made known to the English reader
by Southey and Lockhart, and it contains many passages of
extraordinary merit, though severe criticism would point out
many faults. “To make felt,” says his biographer, “or to
record all the beauties of this book, a book as large would be
necessary, and they may well compensate for the defects,
notwithstanding that at times those same beauties make us
see at what small cost the author might have sent forth his
work more finished.” As in every-day life, he has joined in
his narration scenes of the most opposite character, the most
magnificent descriptions with what is most ludicrous, and
the tenderest with what is oppressing to sensibility. The
passages referring to his native city of Cordova are peculiarly
beautiful, and show the feelings of the exile, as they lean to
his country, in all ages and under all circumstances,—to
“sweet Argos” or sacred Athens—</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse indent6">γενοίμαν,</div>
<div class="verse">ἵν’ ὑλᾶεν ἔπεστι πόντου</div>
<div class="verse">πρόβλημ’ ἁλίκλυστον, ἄκραν</div>
<div class="verse">ὑπὸ πλάκα Σουνίου,</div>
<div class="verse">τὰς ἱερὰς ὅπως προσείποιμεν Ἀθάνας.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class="noindent">The dedication to Mr. Frere has the singularity of being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>
written in the English language.</p>
<p>The ‘Ode to the Lighthouse at Malta’ is another exemplification
of the Duke’s patriotic feeling, as well as the poem
of ‘The Exile,’ which has been translated into English by
Mr. Reade. One of his latest works is in the form of a
drama, but, like those of Lord Byron, it is not intended for
the stage. It is entitled, ‘Undeception in a Dream,’ and represents
the life of man, contrasting its vicissitudes and events
with his hopes and desires. Like the tragedy of ‘Alvaro,’ it is
a highly poetical conception, and worthy of the reputation of
the noble writer.</p>
<p>It has already been intimated that the most popular of the
Duke’s works is one published at Madrid in 1841, ‘Historical
Romances,’ from which has been taken, for translation, the
‘Alcazar of Seville.’ These romances are, in fact, ballads on
various subjects in Spanish history, written in the ballad
measure of octosyllabic lines, with asonante rhymes for the
second and fourth of each quatrain, similar to our own ballads.
In the prologue to this work the Duke has written a defence
of this measure, which required no defence beyond his own
adoption of it, with the example of such writers in it as Melendez
and Arriaza in modern times, and almost all the best
writers in the language previously. Ochoa has praised “above
all” the romance of the Conde de Villa Mediana, and readers
generally find most interesting the ‘Tale of a Veteran,’ so
that it may require an explanation for the choice of the one
taken, that the character of <a href="#note38" title="See note">Pedro, surnamed the Cruel</a>, was
best known to the English public, as associated with English
history. That of the Conde de Villa Mediana is a lively description
of some scenes which led to his assassination by order
of the king, who was influenced by jealousy; the ‘Tale of the
Veteran’ gives an account of an adventure in a nunnery, where
a nun invites an officer to her cell and poisons him in revenge
for his slight to her sister. She then shows him the corpse
of a brother officer, who had already fallen a victim to her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>
arts for the like wrong to herself, and she tells him the whole
history of her motives and conduct, while she induces him to
dig a grave for the first victim, with whom, she tells her
second, that he is also to be placed.</p>
<p>Few writers have given the world so many works of a
superior order, distinguishable separately for varied excellence,
as the Duke de Rivas. He has concentrated in his
later productions all the chief merits of a poet, in the choice
of his subjects, in the delineation of character and the power
of maintaining throughout the interest of the narrative. If
he has failed too often in the mechanical execution, in attending
to the harmony of verse or poetic expression of the
thoughts, these are faults which we may hope will be corrected
in subsequent editions, so as to leave him still greater
claims on the admiration of his readers.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p>
<h3>THE DUKE DE RIVAS.</h3>
<h4>THE ALCAZAR OF SEVILLE.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<h5>I.</h5>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Magnificent is the Alcazar,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For which Seville is renown’d,</div>
<div class="verse">Delicious are its gardens,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With its lofty portals crown’d.</div>
<div class="verse">With woods all carved elaborate,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In a thousand forms about,</div>
<div class="verse">It raises high its noble front</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With cornice jutting out;</div>
<div class="verse">And there in ancient characters</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A tablet may be seen,</div>
<div class="verse"><span class="antiqua">Don Pedro built these palaces</span>,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The sculptures placed between.</div>
<div class="verse">But ill beseem in its saloons</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The modern triflings rear’d,</div>
<div class="verse">And in its proud courts men without</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The antique vest or beard.</div>
<div class="verse">How many a soft and balmy eve,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In pleasant converse there,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Have I with Seville’s mirthful sons,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And Seville’s daughters fair,</div>
<div class="verse">Traversed those blooming bowers along,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On entering which are rude</div>
<div class="verse">Gigantic shapes in myrtles cut,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of various attitude;</div>
<div class="verse">And rose-bay trees, in long arcades,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With oranges unite,</div>
<div class="verse">And shady labyrinths form, the which</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To thefts of love invite;</div>
<div class="verse">And hidden jets of water spring</div>
<div class="verse indent1">All sudden from the floor,</div>
<div class="verse">When trod the painted pebbles laid</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In rich mosaic o’er,</div>
<div class="verse">That sprinkle on the stranger there,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">While shouts of laughter rise,</div>
<div class="verse">From those who warn’d by former fate</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Now shun such pleasantries!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">In summer time, at close of day,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When mid the light cloud’s fold,</div>
<div class="verse">The sun declines, encircling them</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With scarlet and with gold,</div>
<div class="verse">That bright transparent heaven above,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With purple mists o’erspread,</div>
<div class="verse">Cut in a thousand varied hues,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">By softest zephyrs led,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>
<div class="verse">That glowing atmosphere, in which</div>
<div class="verse indent1">One seems to breathe of fire,</div>
<div class="verse">How temper they the languid frame,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And soul divine inspire!</div>
<div class="verse">The view too of those baths, that gain</div>
<div class="verse indent1">From all who know them praise,</div>
<div class="verse">And that proud edifice which Moors</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And Goths combined to raise,</div>
<div class="verse">In some parts harsh, in some more light,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Here ruins, there repair’d,</div>
<div class="verse">The different dominations pass’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Are thus by each declared;</div>
<div class="verse">With records, and remembrances</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of ages long pass’d by,</div>
<div class="verse">And of more modern years alike</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To arrest the fantasy.</div>
<div class="verse">The lemon’s and the jasmine’s flowers,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">While they the eyes enchant,</div>
<div class="verse">Embalm the circumambient air</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With sweets they lavish grant.</div>
<div class="verse">The fountains’ murmurs, and afar</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The city’s varied cries,</div>
<div class="verse">With those that from the river near,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or Alameda rise,</div>
<div class="verse">From Triana, and from the bridge,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">All lost, confused amain,</div>
<div class="verse">With sound of bells vibrating loud</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In high Hiralda’s fane;—</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span>
<div class="verse">A scene that never is forgot</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Enchanted forms the whole,</div>
<div class="verse">The thoughts of which unceasing cause</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To beat my heart and soul.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Many delicious nights, when yet</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My now all-frozen breast</div>
<div class="verse">Beat warmly, have I seen those halls</div>
<div class="verse indent1">By youthful footsteps press’d;</div>
<div class="verse">Fill’d with a chosen concourse gay</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In country dance to meet,</div>
<div class="verse">Or light quadrille, while festive sounds</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The orchestras repeat:</div>
<div class="verse">And from the gilded roofs rebound</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The steps, the laugh perchance</div>
<div class="verse">And talk of happy pairs, by love</div>
<div class="verse indent1">United in the dance;</div>
<div class="verse">With sound of music mix’d the while,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Confused and blended o’er,</div>
<div class="verse">As sent according echos forth</div>
<div class="verse indent1">From the enamell’d floor.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse"><a href="#note39" title="See note">Yet, ah! those lovely bowers along</a></div>
<div class="verse indent1">I never once have stray’d,</div>
<div class="verse">But saw as in a mental dream</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Padillia’s gentle shade,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Flitting before my view to pass,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Heaving a sigh profound,</div>
<div class="verse">Light as a vapour, or a cloud</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That skims the trees around.</div>
<div class="verse">Nor ever enter’d I those halls,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But fancying arise</div>
<div class="verse">I saw the founder’s phantom, stain’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With blood congeal’d the dyes.</div>
<div class="verse">Nor in that vestibule obscure,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Where with the cornice blend</div>
<div class="verse">The portraits of the kings, arranged</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In columns to extend,</div>
<div class="verse">To that which is blue-tiled below,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And enamell’d is on high,</div>
<div class="verse">Which shows on every side around</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A rich-set balcony,</div>
<div class="verse">And gilded lattice roof above</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That crowns it with dark shade,</div>
<div class="verse">But thought I saw upon the ground</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A lifeless body laid!</div>
<div class="verse">Yet on that pavement may be seen</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A dark stain to this day!</div>
<div class="verse">Indelible, which ages pass</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And never wash away:</div>
<div class="verse">’Tis blood that dark tenacious stain;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Blood of the murder’d dead:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Alas! how many throng it o’er,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Nor think on what they tread!</div>
</div>
<h5>II.</h5>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Five hundred years shone younger</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The Alcazar to the day,</div>
<div class="verse">Its lofty walls yet lustrous,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And faultless its array;</div>
<div class="verse">And brilliant were the enamels</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Which its gilded roofs reveal,</div>
<div class="verse">It showed itself the mansion fit</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of the king of proud Castile;</div>
<div class="verse">When on one balmy morn it chanced</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of florid May betide,</div>
<div class="verse">In that saloon whose balcony</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Is on the plaza’s side,</div>
<div class="verse">Two persons of illustrious mien</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In silence deep were there;</div>
<div class="verse">One was a Cavalier, and one</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A Lady passing fair.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">A Barbary carpet richly wove</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Upon the floor was laid,</div>
<div class="verse">The gift or tribute which the Moor</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Granada’s king had paid;</div>
<div class="verse">A silken curtain, bright with flowers,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And ribbons curious wrought,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>
<div class="verse">With various eastern colours deck’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Which to our Spain had brought</div>
<div class="verse">Venetian galleys, as perchance</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her Doge’s gift of state,</div>
<div class="verse">Was thrown across the balcony,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The light to moderate.</div>
<div class="verse">In the recess in front, with woods</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Well carved, and richly graced</div>
<div class="verse">With mother-o’-pearl inlayings,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Was an Oratory placed;</div>
<div class="verse">Where of the sovereign Virgin</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The image stood devout,</div>
<div class="verse">The sculpture somewhat rude, but yet</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Attractions not without;</div>
<div class="verse">Which with a plate of silver,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For ornament was crown’d,</div>
<div class="verse">Its rim reflecting amethysts,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And emeralds around.</div>
<div class="verse">A manuscript of holy prayers,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Which miniatures adorn,</div>
<div class="verse">Precious with gold and ivory</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Upon its coverings borne,</div>
<div class="verse">Was seen there placed upon a stand,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Form’d of an angel’s wings,</div>
<div class="verse">The figure badly sculptured,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But with neat finishings.</div>
<div class="verse">And on the floor of gold brocade</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A cushion one might see,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Which by its sunken pressure show’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The marks of bended knee.</div>
<div class="verse">And on the pure white walls were hung</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Bright arms along the space,</div>
<div class="verse">And interspersed were banners,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And trophies of the chase.</div>
<div class="verse">An ornamental table stood</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In the middle of the floor,</div>
<div class="verse">On which a well-tuned lute was placed,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Though partly covered o’er;</div>
<div class="verse">A rich-cut board for game of draughts,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And a coffer by its side</div>
<div class="verse">Of silver filigree, and jars</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With chosen flowers supplied.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The Lady near the balcony</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Sat very pensively,</div>
<div class="verse">In a great gilded chair of state,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Whose back was form’d to be</div>
<div class="verse">A canopy, or cover o’er,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And in gay curvings down</div>
<div class="verse">Were lions, castles, and the whole</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Surmounted with a crown.</div>
<div class="verse">Her dress a silken robe of green,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Which show’d a various tinge,</div>
<div class="verse">In twisted threads, with pearls and gold</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The embroidery and fringe.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Her head-dress than the snow appear’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Ev’n whiter to behold,</div>
<div class="verse">And covering o’er the fine clear lawn</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her long dark tresses roll’d.</div>
<div class="verse">Her face was heavenly, and her neck</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Divine, but in their hue</div>
<div class="verse">Like wax, the colour which fear paints,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And long-known sorrow too.</div>
<div class="verse">Her eyes were like two beaming suns</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Beneath their lashes tall,</div>
<div class="verse">Where shone two precious pearly drops</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As ready down to fall.</div>
<div class="verse">She was a lily fair, whom death</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Was rudely threatening seen,</div>
<div class="verse">For a corroding worm the heart</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Was tearing deep within.</div>
<div class="verse">Now in her thin pale hands, convulsed</div>
<div class="verse indent1">It seems with fear or doubt,</div>
<div class="verse">Her kerchief white, of border’d lace</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And points, she twists about;</div>
<div class="verse">Or with absorb’d distracted mien</div>
<div class="verse indent1">She agitates the air,</div>
<div class="verse">With fan, whose feathers Araby</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Had sent, the choicest there.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The Cavalier was slightly form’d,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">And of the middle size,</div>
<div class="verse">With reddish beard, a restless mouth,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And most unquiet eyes.</div>
<div class="verse">His visage pale and dry appear’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Nose sharp and of a crook,</div>
<div class="verse">Noble his port, but sinister</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And terrible his look.</div>
<div class="verse">In a red mantle he was wrapp’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With golden plates o’erspread,</div>
<div class="verse">And gracefully his cap was placed</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On one side on his head.</div>
<div class="verse">With measured steps, from end to end,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">He paced along the room,</div>
<div class="verse">And different passions o’er his face</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Though silent seem’d to come.</div>
<div class="verse">At times he reddens, <a href="#note40" title="See note">darting round</a></div>
<div class="verse indent1">Fierce looks, that seem to tell,</div>
<div class="verse">As flames cast forth from eyes of fire,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The very deeds of hell.</div>
<div class="verse">And now a fierce and bitter smile</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The extended lip displays,</div>
<div class="verse">Or on the gilded roof he fix’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A darkly lowering gaze.</div>
<div class="verse">Now hastening on his course, from head</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To foot he trembles o’er,</div>
<div class="verse">And now proceeds his noble mien</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of calmness to restore.</div>
<div class="verse">Thus have I seen a tiger fierce,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Now tranquil, now with rage</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Revolve himself each side across,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And round his narrow cage.</div>
<div class="verse">Thus pacing o’er the carpet there</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His footsteps are not heard,</div>
<div class="verse">But soundless they, yet were distinct</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As ever that he stirr’d,</div>
<div class="verse"><a href="#note41" title="See note">The crackling of his arms and knees:</a></div>
<div class="verse indent1">In distant lands, ’tis said,</div>
<div class="verse">That with like noise has Heaven supplied,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For man to shun in dread,</div>
<div class="verse">O, wonder rare! a serpent, named</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thence Rattlesnake, that springs</div>
<div class="verse">Quick at the moment it comes nigh,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And kills whome’er it stings.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The Lady was Padillia,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That sat in mournful strain;</div>
<div class="verse">And the stern silent Cavalier</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Don Pedro, King of Spain.</div>
</div>
<h5>III.</h5>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">As round some solitary tower,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">At setting of the sun,</div>
<div class="verse">Fierce birds of prey are whirling seen,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Revolving one by one,</div>
<div class="verse">Thus with Don Pedro in their turn</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Have various thoughts a trace,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Whose shadows darken as they pass</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The expression of his face.</div>
<div class="verse">Now occupies his angry mind</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His brother’s power and state,</div>
<div class="verse">Of those whose mother he had slain,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And birth would criminate.</div>
<div class="verse">Now of unquietnesses borne,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Great scorn and insult shown,</div>
<div class="verse">Or of his failing treasury,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Nor means to fill it known.</div>
<div class="verse">Now of the fair Aldonza’s charms,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His fortune ’twas to gain,</div>
<div class="verse">Or of the blood-stain’d forms of those</div>
<div class="verse indent1">He had unjustly slain.</div>
<div class="verse">Now some projected enterprise,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Some treaty to defeat,</div>
<div class="verse">Faith-breaking with Granada’s Moor,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or treason or deceit.</div>
<div class="verse">But as the birds the lonely tower,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The broken heights between,</div>
<div class="verse">Are all at length, as one by one,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Retiring hiding seen;</div>
<div class="verse">And constant only one remains,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Revolving it infest,</div>
<div class="verse">The fiercest, strongest on the wing,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That will admit no rest;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Thus all that multitude confused</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of passions wild and strange,</div>
<div class="verse">Of which Don Pedro for a while</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Was tangled in the range,</div>
<div class="verse">At length from breast and head alike</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Fled finding a retreat,</div>
<div class="verse">And living left distinct alone,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With horror great replete,</div>
<div class="verse">The image of Fadrique,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His eldest brother famed,</div>
<div class="verse">The pride of knights and Master those</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of Santiago named.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Now from Humillia’s conquer’d walls,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With matchless courage won,</div>
<div class="verse">In triumph had Fadrique come</div>
<div class="verse indent1">O’er vanquish’d Aragon.</div>
<div class="verse">Where erst the bars, the castles now</div>
<div class="verse indent1">He floating left abroad,</div>
<div class="verse">And to present the keys he brings</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His brother, king and lord.</div>
<div class="verse">Well knows the king no rebel he,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But friend and ally true,</div>
<div class="verse"><a href="#note42" title="See note">And more than Tello madly hates,</a></div>
<div class="verse indent1">And more than Henry too.</div>
<div class="verse">’Twas he Fadrique had the charge</div>
<div class="verse indent1">From France to bring the queen,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>
<div class="verse">The Lady Blanche, but he allow’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A year to intervene.</div>
<div class="verse">With her in Narbonne he delay’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And rumours thus of those,</div>
<div class="verse">Which whether true or false alike</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Are poisonous, arose.</div>
<div class="verse">And in Medina’s tower the price</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The Lady Blanche now pays,</div>
<div class="verse">Of all the palace whisperings,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And journey’s long delays.</div>
<div class="verse">And on his shoulders yet untouch’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His head Fadrique wears,</div>
<div class="verse">Because of his great wealth and power</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And honour’d name he bears.</div>
<div class="verse">But, woe for him! the ladies all</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Him as their idol own,</div>
<div class="verse">For his gay port and gallant mien,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And manly courage known.</div>
<div class="verse">And if he cause the throne no fear,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In his fidelity,</div>
<div class="verse">He gives what’s worse, though that were bad,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The heart strong jealousy.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Meanwhile the fair Padillia,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Whose judgement clear and great,</div>
<div class="verse">Her royal lover’s secret thoughts,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Though deepest penetrate,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>
<div class="verse">In whom the goodness of her heart</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The enchantment still excels,</div>
<div class="verse">That in her beauteous face and form</div>
<div class="verse indent1">So marvellously dwells,</div>
<div class="verse">Unhappy victim lives of fears,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That ever her attend,</div>
<div class="verse">Because she loves the king, and sees</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His course in evil end:</div>
<div class="verse">She knows that based in blood and grief,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And persecution’s train,</div>
<div class="verse">A palace never is secure,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">No throne can fix’d remain.</div>
<div class="verse">And she has two young tender girls,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Who with another sire,</div>
<div class="verse">Whate’er their lot, might all have gain’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Their hearts could best require;</div>
<div class="verse">And in Fadrique’s worth she sees</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A stay and partisan.</div>
<div class="verse">She knows he comes to Seville now,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And as from words can scan</div>
<div class="verse">Her fierce lord’s brow dark lowering,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In evil hour he came,</div>
<div class="verse">And to allay suspicions,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or give them higher aim,</div>
<div class="verse">At length, though with a trembling lip,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The silence breaking dared</div>
<div class="verse">To speak, and thus the words that pass’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Between the two declared:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span>
<div class="verse">“Your brother then, Fadrique,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Triumphant comes today?”</div>
<div class="verse">“And certainly in coming,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The wretch makes long delay.”</div>
<div class="verse">“He serves you well, and hero-like,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As does Humillia show,</div>
<div class="verse">Of loyalty gives proofs, and brave</div>
<div class="verse indent1">He is”—“Sufficient so.”</div>
<div class="verse">“You may be sure, Sire, that his heart</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Will ever true remain.”</div>
<div class="verse">“Tomorrow still more sure of that.”</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Both silent were again.</div>
</div>
<h5>IV.</h5>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">With joy the Master to receive,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Through Seville’s streets along,</div>
<div class="verse">Great rumour spreads, and arms resound,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And men and horses throng.</div>
<div class="verse">And shouts of welcoming, amidst</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Repeated echoes rise,</div>
<div class="verse">Which from Hiralda’s lofty tower</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Are scattered to the skies.</div>
<div class="verse">Now comes the crowd approaching near,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But less the shouts resound,</div>
<div class="verse">And now the palace gates they reach</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Mid silence all around:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span>
<div class="verse">As if the Alcazar had enjoy’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The privilege to appear,</div>
<div class="verse">In sight, and still the enthusiast flow,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And turn it into fear.</div>
<div class="verse">Thus mute and breathless, motionless,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The people stood in dread,</div>
<div class="verse">As if with magical respect</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The plaza’s bounds to tread;</div>
<div class="verse">And enters there the Master now,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With but a scanty train,</div>
<div class="verse">And of his order some few knights,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The palace gates to gain.</div>
<div class="verse">And forward on his course directs,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As one without alarms,</div>
<div class="verse">Who goes to meet a brother kind,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With open heart and arms:</div>
<div class="verse">Or as some noble chieftain comes,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For glorious deeds the cause,</div>
<div class="verse">From grateful monarch to receive</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Due honours and applause.</div>
<div class="verse">Upon a dark and mettled steed,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That breathes of foam and fire,</div>
<div class="verse">And while the bridle scarce restrains,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Seems proud of its attire,</div>
<div class="verse">With a white mantle o’er him cast,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Flung loosely to the air,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>
<div class="verse">O’er which the collar and red cross</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His dignity declare;</div>
<div class="verse">And cap of crimson velvet girt</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His brows, whereon unfold</div>
<div class="verse">The winds the feathers’ snowy plumes,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And tassels bound with gold.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">All pale as death, the furious King</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His brother saw from far,</div>
<div class="verse">When on the plaza entering first,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And fix’d as statues are,</div>
<div class="verse">Awhile he stood upon the floor,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And from his angry eyes</div>
<div class="verse">Seem’d burning horrid lightning thence</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In flashes to arise.</div>
<div class="verse">But starting soon, himself around</div>
<div class="verse indent1">He turn’d the room to leave,</div>
<div class="verse">As if he would some welcome guest</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Right affably receive.</div>
<div class="verse">When thus Padillia saw him turn,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her heart beyond relief</div>
<div class="verse">Of anguish full, and countenance</div>
<div class="verse indent1">So beauteous mark’d with grief,</div>
<div class="verse">She rose, and to the balcony</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Went troubled, by the square,</div>
<div class="verse">And to the Master motions wild,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With gestures to declare,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>
<div class="verse">In evil hour he comes, and waves</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her kerchief him away,</div>
<div class="verse">And by mute signs thus bids him seek</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Safety without delay.</div>
<div class="verse">Nothing of this he comprehends,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But for saluting takes</div>
<div class="verse">The warning, and discreetly thus</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A gallant answer makes.</div>
<div class="verse">And to the open’d portal comes,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With guards and bowmen lined,</div>
<div class="verse">Who give him passage free, but leave</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His followers behind.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">If he knew not Padillia’s signs,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Don Pedro knew them well,</div>
<div class="verse">As he before the chamber door</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A moment seem’d to dwell,</div>
<div class="verse">In deep suspense o’er his resolve,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When turning back his eye,</div>
<div class="verse">He saw the Lady warn him thus</div>
<div class="verse indent1">By motions thence to fly.</div>
<div class="verse">O, heaven! then was that noble act,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of pure intent to be</div>
<div class="verse">What call’d the executioners forth,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And seal’d the stern decree.</div>
<div class="verse">Follow’d by two esquires alone,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The Master scarce in haste</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Upon the royal vestibule</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His foot confiding placed,</div>
<div class="verse">Where various men-at-arms were seen,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In double iron barr’d,</div>
<div class="verse">Pacing along as sentinels</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The entrance stairs to guard,</div>
<div class="verse">When over from the balcony,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Like fiendish shape of ill,</div>
<div class="verse">The King looks out, and “Mace-bearers,”</div>
<div class="verse indent1">He shouts, “the Master kill.”</div>
<div class="verse">Quick as the lightning in a storm</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Comes ere the thunders call,</div>
<div class="verse">Six well-appointed maces down</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On Don Fadrique fall.</div>
<div class="verse">He raised his hand to grasp his sword,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But in his tabard’s gird</div>
<div class="verse">The hilt was bound, impossible</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To draw it at the word.</div>
<div class="verse">He fell, a sea of blood around</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Ran from the shattered brain,</div>
<div class="verse">Raising a cry which reached to heaven,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And doubtless not in vain.</div>
<div class="verse">Of deed so horrible the news</div>
<div class="verse indent1">At once around was spread,</div>
<div class="verse">And thence the brotherhood and knights</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Together quickly fled.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>
<div class="verse">To hide them in their houses fled</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The people, trembling sore</div>
<div class="verse">With horror, and the Alcazar’s bounds</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Were desert as before.</div>
</div>
<h5>V.</h5>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">’Tis said, the sight of blood so much</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Is wont to infuriate</div>
<div class="verse">The tiger, that he still rends on</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With stomach satiate;</div>
<div class="verse">Solely because ’tis his delight</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With blood the earth to stain,</div>
<div class="verse">So doubtless with the King it was</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Such feelings grew amain.</div>
<div class="verse">For when he saw Fadrique laid,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thus prostrate on the ground,</div>
<div class="verse">After the squires in search he ran</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The palace all around;</div>
<div class="verse">Who tremblingly and livid fled</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The apartments various o’er,</div>
<div class="verse">Nor find they any hiding-place,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or whence to fly a door.</div>
<div class="verse">One happily at length succeeds,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To hide or fly outright;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span>
<div class="verse">The other, Sancho Villiegas,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Less happy or adroit,</div>
<div class="verse">Seeing the King still follow him,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Enter’d half dead with fear</div>
<div class="verse">Where was Padillia on her couch,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With her attendants near;</div>
<div class="verse">They trembling, as she senseless laid,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And by her side reclined</div>
<div class="verse">Her two young tender girls, who were</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Angels in form and mind.</div>
<div class="verse">The unhappy youth still seeing there</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The spectre following nigh,</div>
<div class="verse">That even this asylum mocks,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In his arms quickly high</div>
<div class="verse">Snatches the Lady Beatrice,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Who scarce six years has known,</div>
<div class="verse">The child for whom the King has e’er</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The most affection shown.</div>
<div class="verse">But, ah! naught serves him this resource,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As in the desert naught</div>
<div class="verse">The holy cross avails, that clasps</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The pilgrim hapless caught;</div>
<div class="verse">When roars the south wind, burns the sky,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And seems as if up-driven</div>
<div class="verse">A frightful sea, of waves of sand,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Commingling earth and heaven;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Thus with the child between his arms,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And on his knees compress’d,</div>
<div class="verse">The furious dagger of the King</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Was planted in his breast.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">As if that day had witness’d naught</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The palace new or rare,</div>
<div class="verse">The King sat at the table calm</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To eat as usual there;</div>
<div class="verse">Play’d afterwards a game of draughts,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Then went out pacing slow</div>
<div class="verse">To see the galleys, arming soon</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To Biscay’s shores to go.</div>
<div class="verse">And when the night the hemisphere</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Had with its mantle veil’d,</div>
<div class="verse">He enters in the Golden Tower,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Where he shut up has held</div>
<div class="verse">The fair Aldonza, whom he took</div>
<div class="verse indent1">From Santa Clara’s walls,</div>
<div class="verse">And as in blind idolatry</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Who now his heart enthralls.</div>
<div class="verse">With Levi then his treasurer,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Who though a Hebrew vile</div>
<div class="verse">Has all his confidence, he goes</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On state affairs awhile;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>
<div class="verse">And very late retires to rest,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With no attendants nigh,</div>
<div class="verse">Only a Moor, a wretch perforce,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His favourite waiting by.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Enter’d the lofty vestibule,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The Alcazar’s tranquil bound,</div>
<div class="verse">One moment paused the King and pass’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His gaze in turn around.</div>
<div class="verse">A large lamp from the vaulted roof</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Was hanging loose, and cast</div>
<div class="verse">Now lights, now shadows, as it swung,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As by the breezes pass’d.</div>
<div class="verse">Between the polish’d columns placed</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Two men in armour were,</div>
<div class="verse">But only two dark figures show’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Watching in silence there.</div>
<div class="verse">And still was Don Fadrique laid</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Extended on the ground,</div>
<div class="verse">With his torn mantle o’er him spread,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In a lake of blood around.</div>
<div class="verse">The King approach’d him, and awhile</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Attentively survey’d,</div>
<div class="verse">And seeing that his brother yet</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Was not entirely dead,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Since he perchance as breathing seem’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His breast a heave to make,</div>
<div class="verse">He gave him with his foot a push,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Which made the body shake;</div>
<div class="verse">Whereon he, giving to the Moor</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His sharpen’d dagger bare,</div>
<div class="verse">Said, “Finish him,” and quietly</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To sleep went up the stair.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="IX">IX.<br />
<span class="smaller">MANUEL BRETON DE LOS HERREROS.</span></h3>
<p>In the country of Lope de Vega and Calderon de la Barca,
it was not to be supposed, that on the general revival of the
national literature, the drama could be left neglected, in a
state unworthy of its ancient reputation. From the time of
those great writers until the present, notwithstanding the
predilection of the Spanish people for the stage, and the encouragement
consequently given for genius to exert itself, no
dramas had been produced to equal them in the public admiration.
The younger Moratin, who may be justly termed
the Spanish Molière, had rather introduced into Spain a new
style of drama, that which we call genteel comedy, than followed
the track of the ancient masters. It was reserved for
a later writer, the subject of this notice, to appear as a rival
to them in the exuberance of composition, and possession of
popular favour, though it may be a question for future ages
to decide on his relative merit.</p>
<p>Breton de los Herreros was born at Quel, a small village
in the province of Logronio, the 19th December, 1796. Of
his early history, we are only informed that he was educated
at the school of San Antonio Abad at Madrid, and that he
entered a regiment of infantry as a volunteer, when yet a boy
of fourteen. The world at large may be considered to be,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>
with regard to contemporary characters of another nation, in
the relation of posterity, making distance have, as Bishop Atterbury
remarked to Lord Bolingbroke, the effect of time;
and they will thus inquire eagerly into the particulars of the
life of one distinguished for genius, however humble his birth,
while they will pass heedlessly by the noblest born personage,
who has given them no peculiar right of interest in his history.
But, as on reading the life of the Duke de Rivas, we feel it
a subject of congratulation, that the lance of a French marauder
did not cut off one who was destined to be the ornament
of his country’s literature, so we rejoice again equally
that the chance passed away favourably, when a stray ball
might have deprived the world of the works of Breton de los
Herreros. Serving in his humble line, he was present at
various skirmishes with the invaders on their final expulsion
from Valencia and Catalonia, at the same time composing
patriotic songs on the national triumphs. In 1812, when
yet a boy of fifteen, he wrote an Ode to the Constitution,
and distinguished himself as an orator among his comrades
on the popular subjects of discussion. On the return of
Ferdinand VII. to absolute power, he must have been compelled
to restrain his tendencies for liberalism, and it may be
supposed that his time was at least as well employed in noting
the characters of those around him, and the scenes he had to
witness, as a storehouse of useful observations for his future
writings.</p>
<p>In 1822 he obtained his discharge from the army, and
after various attempts made to obtain an eligible employment
in the provinces, he went to Madrid, in the summer of 1824,
for the same purpose. There again he was equally unsuccessful,
and as a last resource, took to the director of the
theatre, a comedy which he had written some years previously
for pastime. Fortunately for him, the director happ<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>ened to
be in want of a new piece to bring out on the king’s birthday,
and thinking the one presented would answer his purpose,
he undertook its production with more than usual care,
on account of the occasion. It was accordingly performed on
the 24th October, 1824, and met with such decided success,
that the literary fame of the author was at once secured.</p>
<p>The profits accruing from the representation of his comedies
were exceedingly trifling; but his natural inclinations
led him to writing for the stage, where he now found
himself respected as a successful writer; and as he had
no other resource for maintenance, he applied himself to
this labour with better hopes. A succession of pieces he
wrote were equally successful, produced with a rapidity that
reminded the world of the fertility that had characterized
the genius of Lope de Vega or Calderon. One of his
pieces was so much relished, that at the close, the audience
insisted on its being repeated all over a second time, with
which extraordinary demand the actors had to comply. In
1831 he brought out his comedy of ‘Marcela, or Which of the
Three?’—the most popular of all his productions, the subject
being, which of three lovers, all unworthy of her, the heroine,
who is amiability personified, should accept. It was repeated
at all the theatres in the kingdom, and went through six
editions on publication, besides several surreptitious ones,
having some of the verses even passing into “household
words,” as popular expressions.</p>
<p>In the same year, 1831, he published a small volume of
poems, containing lyrical and miscellaneous pieces, and has
since written many more of the same character in the different
periodicals of Madrid. None of these are, however, deserving
of note, except the satirical ones, many of which abound with
the wit and humour for which his comedies are remarkable.
He is now engaged in publishing at Madrid a collection of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>
all his works, the last volume being intended to contain the
miscellaneous poems, which, corrected and collected together
from the different papers in which they at first appeared, will
no doubt prove to be more worthy of his fame than those
published in 1831. In the lyrical poems he is avowedly a
follower of the so-called classical school, and rises no higher
than those of the same class that had preceded him; their
utmost praise being to be characterized as—</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Coldly correct and classically dull.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>In the satirical pieces, however, he seems in his proper
element, playing on words and treating his rhymes with a
command of language truly surprising. For this reason, and
on account of the numerous local and national allusions contained
in them, it is very difficult for a foreigner fully to
understand, and almost impossible to be able to translate
them. Those pieces attempted in this work may perhaps
give some faint image of his style; but they have been chosen
as most easy for translation, rather than as the best. Of the
Satires published separately after the volume above mentioned,
the most applauded have been those entitled, ‘Against
the Philharmonic Rage;’ ‘Against the Mania for Writing for
the Public;’ ‘Against the Abuses introduced into Theatrical
Declamation;’ ‘Moral Epistle on the Manners of the Age;’
and ‘The Rage for Travelling.’ With the Spaniards of the
present day as with their Roman ancestors, satire is a
favourite species of composition, and it has been observed,
that a manual of the history of the national dissensions
might be composed out of the works of this popular author
alone.</p>
<p>Breton, independently of his original writings, has had the
editorship of one of the periodicals of Madrid, and occasional
engagements connected with others. He also had at one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>
time an appointment in one of the offices of the government,
which he seems to have lost in 1840, on his writing some
satirical effusion on the change that had then taken place.
Literature has been in every age a grievous exaction, for
those who had to follow it as a profession, except under
peculiar circumstances. He had only his genius to befriend
him, and apparently had not even the virtue of prudence for
a counsellor. Thus he has had often to submit to circumstances,
which though harassing at the time, he had the
wisdom to make subjects of merriment afterwards, to the
gain of his literary reputation.</p>
<p>In Spain there can scarcely yet be said to be formed a
“reading public,” notwithstanding the great number of
good works that have been lately published, to supply the
demand whenever it shall arise. The most evident and
flattering of all the applauses that a literary man can there
receive, are those awarded to dramatic successes, and of these,
he has had the reward that was certainly due to him. In
such a climate as that of Spain, and with such a people,
theatrical amusements are more a matter of popular necessity
than they are in a colder climate, with people of more domestic
requirements; and yet even in England it may be a
cause of surprise, considering the honour given to the author
of a successful play, that more works of genius have not been
produced for the stage. In both countries there is a complaint
of the public requiring “novelties;” but the fact is,
that in seeking novelties, they are only seeking excellence.
When any really good work is presented them, they know
how to appreciate it, and in seeking for others even of the
same author, they are only expressing their sense of his
merits.</p>
<p>In the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>prospectus of the proposed new edition of his works,
he had the satisfaction of stating he had to republish more
than sixty original dramas, that had met with a successful
reception from the audiences of Madrid. He has besides
these produced several that have not been successful, and has
translated from the French a great number of others. These
have been principally tragedies, and he has adapted them for
the Spanish stage, rather than translated them, showing a
talent, it has been observed by Del Rio, in so doing equivalent
to making them to be counted in the number of his original
works. Del Rio cites as a particular example, the translation
from Delavigne’s Tragedy of ‘The Sons of Edward.’
Breton’s talent is evidently pre-eminent for comedy; but he
has written several tragedies also, of which one, the ‘Merope,’
brought forward in 1835, was received with much favour.</p>
<p>This work, as it has been more than once already intimated,
is intended mainly to give an account of the lyrical poetry of
Spain as nourishing at present; and, therefore, it would be
entering on subjects foreign to our purpose, to inquire at large
into the merits of any specific dramatic performances. The
Spanish drama may, no doubt, be worthy of especial study,
but I confess that I have not felt it deserving of the extravagant
praises which some writers have bestowed on it. It would
surely be much happier for the people of every country to
seek their greatest enjoyments in those of a domestic nature,
rather than in those miscellaneous congregations where the
quieter virtues can have little exercise. But as human nature
is constituted, and public amusements cannot be avoided, it
is the duty of every friend of the popular interests to support
their being given on the foundation of good taste and moral
principles. Though Breton’s works do not appear free from
all blame in this respect, and though sometimes his witticisms
may be observed scarcely fitting even for the stage,
yet they show, on the whole, compared with the dramatic
productions of other countries, at least equal refin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>ement, as
they certainly do more inventive talent than we can point
out elsewhere in our age.</p>
<p>Larra, the most discriminating critic of Spain, has observed
of Breton, “that in nothing does his peculiar poetical talent
shine more than in the simplicity of his plans. In all his
comedies it is known that he makes a study and show of
forming a plot extremely simple,—little or no action, little or
no artifice. This is conceded to talent only, and to superior
talent. A comedy, full of incidents, which any one invents,
is easy to be passed off on a public always captivated by what
interests and excites curiosity. Breton despises these trivial
resources, and sustains and carries to a happy conclusion,
amid the continual laughter of the audience, and from applause
to applause, a comedy based principally on the
depicting of some comic characters, in the liveliness and
quickness of repartee, in the pureness, flow and harmony of
his easy versification. In these gifts he has no rival, though
he may have them in regard to intention, profoundness or
philosophy.”</p>
<p>Ferrer del Rio says of him, “that he has cultivated a style
so much his own, that at the first few verses of one of his
works, the spectators cry out his name from all parts. Originality
is thus one of the qualities that recommend him.
He tyrannizes over the public, obliging them to cast away
ill-humour, and laugh against their will from the time the
curtain rises till the representation ends, and this the same
whether in the comedies they applaud, or those they disapprove.
He is consequently mirthful and witty in the extreme,
and no one can dispute the palm with him under this
consideration. None of his scenes fatigue from weariness;
none of his verses fail of fullness and harmony; they do not
appear made one after another, but at one blow, and as by
enchantment. Thus all hail him as a perfect versifier and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span>
easy colloquist. Infinite are the matters he has introduced
in his comedies, multiplied the characters sketched by his
pen, innumerable the situations imagined, and undoubtedly
there is due to him the well-founded ascription of a fertile
genius. Originality, wit, easy dialogue, sonorous versification,
an inexhaustible vein, would not be sufficient to form a
good comic writer of manners without the criterion of observation,
fit for filling up his pictures with exactness. This
criterion also he possesses in a high degree.”</p>
<p>High as is this encomium, the writer says of him further,
that if it were decreed by Providence that a new race of barbarians
should overrun Spain, destroying libraries and other
depositaries of human knowledge, yet the name of Breton de
los Herreros would survive the disaster, and some vestige of
his comedies would remain. “Histories, books of learning,
works of legislation, science, philosophy and politics are, no
doubt, more profound than his comedies, though from their
peculiar nature not so popular. Thus what we have said is
to be understood as a means of distinguishing between
writings which, that they may not perish in the course of
ages, require studious men to adopt them for a test, and
learned men to illustrate them by their commentaries, and
those compositions that, to succeed in obtaining the honours
of immortality, require only a people to recite and transmit
them verbally from father to son. The name of Breton may
become traditional in Spain, that of other celebrated writers
will belong to history.”</p>
<p>Breton has been elected a member of the Royal Spanish
Academy, and certainly one so highly gifted as he is in his
department, is well deserving of every literary honour. The
times are gone by when a writer of comedies could be all in
all with the public as their favourite author; but probably
there is no other existing in Spain who enjoys so much popu<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>lar
regard. As such, notwithstanding the inferior merit
of his lyrical and miscellaneous poetry, excepting his satirical
writings, it would have been a blameworthy omission to have
left his name out of the list of the modern poets of Spain.
It was, however, for this reason more advisable to make the
selections from those satirical writings; though independently
of this consideration, it would have been also desirable, in a
work attempting to give a general view of modern Spanish
poetry, that so essential and popular a branch of it should
not be left unnoticed.</p>
<p>For the poems under this head, Breton has only given the
general term “Satirical Letrillias,” so that with those translated
his numbering only could be adopted for reference.
The Letrillia, it may be proper to observe, is what our musical
writers call Motetts or small pieces, having generally
some well-known proverbial saying for the close of each verse.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span></p>
<h3>MANUEL BRETON DE LOS HERREROS.</h3>
<h4>SATIRICAL LETRILLIAS.—III.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Such is, dear girl, my tenderness,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Naught can its equal be!</div>
<div class="verse">If thou a dowry didst possess</div>
<div class="verse">The charms to rival of thy face,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I would marry thee.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thou wert my bliss, my star, my all!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">So kind and fair to see;</div>
<div class="verse">And me thy consort to instal,</div>
<div class="verse">At once for witness Heaven I call,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I would marry thee.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thou dost adore me? yes, and I,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thy love so raptures me,</div>
<div class="verse">If thou wouldst not so anxious try</div>
<div class="verse">To know my pay, and what I buy,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I would marry thee.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">If thou wert not so always coy,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Ne’er listening to my plea,</div>
<div class="verse">But when I, fool! my cash employ</div>
<div class="verse">To bring thee sweets, or some fine toy,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I would marry thee.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">If thou must not instructions wait,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As may mamma agree,</div>
<div class="verse">To write or speak to me, or state</div>
<div class="verse">When thou wilt meet me at the gate,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I would marry thee.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">If ’twere not when to dine, the most</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thy <a href="#note43" title="See note">meagre soup bouillie</a></div>
<div class="verse">Thou givest, as many airs thou show’st,</div>
<div class="verse">As Roderic at the hanging-post,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I would marry thee.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">If for my punishment instead</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of ease and quiet, we</div>
<div class="verse">Might not three hungry brothers dread,</div>
<div class="verse">And mother too, to keep when wed,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I would marry thee.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">If ’twere not when these plagues combine</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With thy tears flowing free,</div>
<div class="verse">The virtues of a heavenly sign</div>
<div class="verse">I see must solace me, not thine,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I would marry thee.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Go, get another in thy chain,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">And Heaven for you decree</div>
<div class="verse">A thousand joys, for me ’tis vain;</div>
<div class="verse">I know thee cheat, and tell thee plain,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I will not marry thee.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h4>SATIRICAL LETRILLIAS.—IV.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse"><a href="#note44" title="See note">Whene’er Don Juan has a feast at home,</a></div>
<div class="verse">I am forgotten as if at Rome;</div>
<div class="verse">But he will for funerals me invite,</div>
<div class="verse">To kill me with the annoyance quite:</div>
<div class="verse indent9">Well, so be it!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Celeste, with thousand coy excuses,</div>
<div class="verse">Will sing the song that set she chooses,</div>
<div class="verse">And all about that her environ,</div>
<div class="verse">Though like an owl, call her a Siren:</div>
<div class="verse indent9">Well, so be it!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">A hundred bees, without reposing,</div>
<div class="verse">Work their sweet combs, with skill enclosing;</div>
<div class="verse">Alas! for an idle drone they strive,</div>
<div class="verse">Who soon will come to devour the hive:</div>
<div class="verse indent9">Well, so be it!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Man to his like moves furious war,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span>
<div class="verse">As if were not too numerous far</div>
<div class="verse">Alone the medical squadrons straight</div>
<div class="verse">The world itself to depopulate!</div>
<div class="verse indent9">Well, so be it!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">There are of usurers heaps in Spain,</div>
<div class="verse">Of catchpoles, hucksterers, heaps again,</div>
<div class="verse">And of vintners too, yet people still</div>
<div class="verse">Are talking of robbers on the hill:</div>
<div class="verse indent9">Well, so be it!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">In vain may the poor, O Conde! try</div>
<div class="verse">Thy door, for the dog makes sole reply;</div>
<div class="verse">And yet to spend thou hast extollers,</div>
<div class="verse">Over a ball two thousand dollars:</div>
<div class="verse indent9">Well, so be it!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Enough today, my pen, this preaching;</div>
<div class="verse">A better time we wait for teaching:</div>
<div class="verse">If vices in vain I try to brand,</div>
<div class="verse">And find I only write upon sand,</div>
<div class="verse indent9">Well, so be it!</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p>
<h4>SATIRICAL LETRILLIAS.—VII.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O! what a blockhead is Don Andres,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">So spending his gold without measure,</div>
<div class="verse">Who ruins, perhaps, to be a Marquess,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His house by the waste of his treasure!</div>
<div class="verse">A cross on his breast to wear so prim,</div>
<div class="verse">Much be the good it will do to him!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Louis is passing the whole long night,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In the dance, what a fancy to take!</div>
<div class="verse">So foolish too, when he easier might</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On his warm soft bed his comfort make;</div>
<div class="verse">To stretch as he pleased each weary limb:</div>
<div class="verse">Much be the good it will do to him!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O, how short-sighted is Avarice!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Cenon exposes himself to shame,</div>
<div class="verse">For the few pounds more he gains amiss,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To lose his office and his good name;</div>
<div class="verse">For a paltry bribe his fame to dim,</div>
<div class="verse">Much be the good it will do to him.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And Clara! what of thee shall I say?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When slowly along I see thee go,</div>
<div class="verse">As if quite lame on the public way,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And on thy long broad foot bestow</div>
<div class="verse">A short narrow shoe for us to see?</div>
<div class="verse">Much be the good it will do to thee!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Can it be possibly true, Jerome,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Though yearly he sees his rents decrease,</div>
<div class="verse">When his fat steward shall bring him home</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His bills, will sign them as he may please?</div>
<div class="verse">Without any search to scarcely skim?</div>
<div class="verse">Much be the good it will do to him!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Fabio wedded with Jane, when above</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A sixpence they neither had, but then</div>
<div class="verse">“He loved her so!” Long life to that love,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Bravo! tomorrow if he seem fain</div>
<div class="verse">To hang himself with vexation grim,</div>
<div class="verse">Much be the good it will do to him.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Wouldst thou engage with the bulls in fight,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My friend! thy wish to be gratified,</div>
<div class="verse">When to the best champion known will light</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Some luckless thrust give through the right side?</div>
<div class="verse">To try thy skill thou art surely free:</div>
<div class="verse">Much be the good it will do to thee!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Martin goes a poor rabbit to chase,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When he could buy for a trifle one</div>
<div class="verse">Fully as good in the market-place;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And he gets fever-struck by the sun!</div>
<div class="verse">Well, at the least he has had his whim:</div>
<div class="verse">Much be the good it will do to him!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">If when such a thing he least expects,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His house should tumble upon his head,</div>
<div class="verse">Because a doubloon Anton neglects</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To give for mending the roof instead,</div>
<div class="verse">The hole some rat had made in the rim,</div>
<div class="verse">Much be the good it will do to him!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">If should some crusty reader exclaim</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Over these lines,—What a wretched style!</div>
<div class="verse">What a bad taste to make it his aim!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My pen more gracefully could the while</div>
<div class="verse">Have made the verse go easy and trim,</div>
<div class="verse">Much be the good it will do to him!</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="X">X.<br />
<span class="smaller">JOSÈ MARIA HEREDIA.</span></h3>
<p>The people of Cuba have good cause to be proud of a poet
born in their island, whose genius seems always to have found
its highest inspiration in expatiating on the charms of the
place of his birth.</p>
<p>Heredia was born the 31st December, 1803, at Santiago
de Cuba, in which city his family had taken refuge when
driven away by the revolution from the island of Santo Domingo,
where they had been previously settled. His father,
whose profession was that of the law, was shortly afterwards
appointed a Judge in Mexico, where he accordingly went
with his family, taking his son there for his education under
his special superintendence. This duty he had the privilege
allowed him to accomplish, when he died in 1820, leaving a
reputation for ability and uprightness so eminent as to prove
highly advantageous to his son in his subsequent necessities.
On his father’s death, Heredia returned with his mother and
three sisters to Cuba, where he had an uncle and other relations
residing, and there he engaged in a course of study for
the profession of the law, at the termination of which he was,
in 1823, admitted an Advocate in the Supreme Court of t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>he
island. From his earliest years he had always shown himself
possessed of a very studious disposition, and some of his poems
seem to have been written when only eighteen years of age.</p>
<p>In the pursuit of the profession he had adopted, with his
talent and energy, Heredia might have hoped soon to acquire
a very honourable position; but unfortunately for his future
comfort in life, he had imbibed too strongly the principles
then prevailing to consider the domination of Spain as an
evil which ought to be removed. It is stated, that there was
a conspiracy even then formed to declare the independence of
the island, in which he was implicated; and that on his being
denounced to the government in consequence, he was obliged
to fly from the island. Proceedings under this charge were
notwithstanding instituted against him, under which he was
formally declared banished. He thereupon went, in November
1823, to New York, where he passed the following three
years, appearing, from the accounts that reached his friends,
to have lived there during that time in great privations.
These, and the variableness of the climate, operating severely
on his constitution, as a native of the tropics, were no doubt
the causes of his becoming a victim to that fatal disease which
terminated his existence a few years afterwards.</p>
<p>In New York he acquired soon an accurate knowledge of
the English language, which enabled him also to become
familiarly acquainted with English literature. Of this he
showed no inconsiderable tokens, in a volume of poems which
he published there in 1825, having included among them
several translations from the English, though he has not acknowledged
them generally as such. He continued the same
neglect in the edition of his works published subsequently in
Mexico in 1832, which was a much superior edition to the
former, being more than doubled in regard to its contents,
and having the poems formerly published now much correct<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>ed
and improved.</p>
<p>Not finding his residence in New York offering him any
hopes of advancement in life, and despairing of being able to
return to his family in Cuba, he determined to go thence to
Mexico and seek the assistance of his father’s friends in that
city. He accordingly went there in 1826, and had scarcely
arrived when he was at once appointed to a situation in the
office of the Secretary of State. From this minor post he was
soon afterwards promoted to discharge various important
offices in the provinces, and finally to be named one of the
Judges of the Supreme Court of Mexico and a Senator of the
Republic. It was while holding one of those appointments
as a local judge at Toluca that he published there the second
edition of his works just mentioned.</p>
<p>After the death of Ferdinand VII., in 1833, the Regent,
Queen Christina, wisely accorded a general amnesty to all
expatriated Spaniards, when Heredia, notwithstanding the
favourable position he held in Mexico, where also he had
married in 1827, wished to take advantage of it to return to
his family. On making application, however, for permission
to do so, he was refused it by the Captain-General of Cuba,
and all he could obtain was permission to go there for two
months to visit his aged mother and other relatives, subject
to the observation of the police. He went there accordingly
in 1836, when, by a singular coincidence, he joined his family
again on the same day of the month that thirteen years before
he had parted from them.</p>
<p>On his arrival in Cuba, he was subjected to some of those
petty annoyances which military governments too often impose
on people under their sway. A friend of his who had
gone to meet him, found him, notwithstanding his rank in
the Mexican republic, or his reputation as a literary character,
or his evident state of ill-health, seated on a bench in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> the
court of the government office, to wait his turn at the pleasure
of the official, who thought he was showing his dignity by
exposing to unnecessary delay those whom he had to note
under his inspection. Heredia was so altered that his friend
could scarcely recognize him, and his relatives soon had to
become apprehensive that his health was seriously endangered.
He had given the most solemn assurance to the authorities
that he would not in any way during his visit interfere in the
public questions of the day, and he fulfilled his promise. If
he really had entered in his youth into any plot against the
government, the most dangerous conspirator in it could
scarcely have been a young man of nineteen, who seems to
have been the principal sufferer. But in any case, he had by
time and reflection become very altered in sentiment, and his
failing strength would not admit of any extraordinary exertion,
even if he had remained the same enthusiast for political
liberty as he was in his youth. He would have wished to
stay the remainder of his life with his family, but it was his
duty to return to Mexico after the expiration of the period
allowed him, and there he died of consumption on his return,
the 6th May, 1839. After his death, his widow and her children
came to Cuba, where she died the 16th June, 1844,
leaving a son and two daughters in the kindly charge of his
relatives.</p>
<p>The Toluca edition of Heredia’s poems in two volumes,
1832, does great credit to the Mexican press, being one of
the best printed Spanish works to be found. But it is extremely
scarce, and therefore deserves a more detailed account
of it than might be requisite with works better known. In
addition to those contained in the first edition, which is yet
comparatively frequently to be met with, it contains his philosophic
and patriotic poems, some of which are very spirited,
and one, the ‘Hymn of the Banished,’ an extremely fine one.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span>
The copies of the work sent to Havana had these patriotic
poems taken out, as otherwise they would have been seized
by the authorities; so that most of the copies of the work existing
are deficient with regard to them. In the place of the
odes thus taken out, another poem, ‘On Immortality,’ was
inserted, which, however, is principally taken from the Seventh
Book of Young’s Night Thoughts, though not so stated. The
other principal poems, in respect of length, are, ‘On the Worth
of Women,’ and ‘the Pleasures of Melancholy.’ Of another
very fine ode, ‘To Niagara,’ a very excellent translation into
English blank verse has appeared in the United States Review.</p>
<p>In the preface to the second edition, he states that he had
been induced to undertake it, upon finding that several of
the poems in the first had been reprinted in Paris, London,
Hamburg and Philadelphia, and had been received with
much favour in his own country, where <a href="#note45" title="See note">the celebrated Lista</a>
had pronounced him “a great poet.” There can be no
doubt that other editions would have met with very favourable
reception, had it not been for the circumstance of his
being considered an author obnoxious to the Spanish government.
As it is, the Creoles of Cuba have manuscript copies
of his poems circulating amongst themselves, generally faulty
as dependent on the taste of the individuals who had copied
them. The effect of this is apparent in the only edition I
am aware of, that has been published in Spain, that of Barcelona,
in 1840, acknowledged to be taken from a manuscript
copy, in which not only are some of his best compositions
omitted, such as the ‘Lines to his Horse,’ and the poem
entitled, ‘The Season of the Northers,’ but some others,
for instance, the ‘Ode to the Sun,’ are given imperfectly. In
return, it gives a poem on receiving the portrait of his
mother, which had not appeared in the former editions, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>
which is not unworthy of being compared with Cowper’s on
the same subject, though treated differently.</p>
<p>In the prologue to this edition the editor observes, that
“in all his productions is seen an excellency of heart and an
imagination truly poetical, enabling us to assert with Lista
that he is a great poet, and one of the best of our day.” He
adds, “the poems of Heredia have, in our judgement, the
merit of a purity of language, which unfortunately begins to
be unknown in Spain. They are of a kind equally apart
from the monotony and servileness, ascribed perhaps with
reason to the classicists, and from the extravagant aberration
of those who affect to be called Romanticists, and believe
they are so, because they despise all rules in their compositions,
substituting words and phrases unknown to our better
writers and poets.”</p>
<p>The language of Heredia in his poems is by the concurrent
opinion of all Spanish critics very pure, and even
strangers can feel its simplicity and nature in connexion
with the truly poetical thoughts they contain, free from all
conceits or affectations. In his best original compositions,
the sentiments expressed are generally of a tender and melancholy
character, as might be expected from his history, of
one banished from his country and family, while suffering
from privations and ill-health, and at length sinking under
a fatal disease. Like many other poets, he thus also writes
most affectingly when dwelling on his own personal feelings,
as if to verify the declaration of Shelley, that</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse indent9">… most men</div>
<div class="verse">Are cradled into poetry by wrong;</div>
<div class="verse">They learn in suffering what they teach in song.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>The ‘Lines to his Horse’ and ‘The Season of the
Northers’ bear intrinsic evidence of their origin, and also
the Ode entitled ‘Poesy.’ This one bears a stro<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span>ng resemblance
in its general tone to the ‘Epistle to His Brother’
and the poem of ‘Sleep and Poetry’ by Keats, whose character
and fate also were in some degree the same as his.
They have the same sentiment, as conscious of fame awaiting
them, common to all poets, but peculiarly to those of
more sensitive temperament, the ‘non omnis moriar,’ the hope
of immortality,—</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Ἐλπίδ’ ἔχω κλέος εὑρέσθαι</div>
<div class="verse indent1">κεν ὑψηλὸν πρόσω.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>If the extravagant eulogiums bestowed on the merit of the
Sonnet, as a form of verse, by some Italian writers, and
echoed by Boileau and others, be at all deserved, Heredia’s
claims to superiority may be put forward very confidently, in
respect of that to ‘His Wife’ in dedication of the second
edition of his works. It contains all the conditions required
for a perfect composition of this kind, in the poetical statement
of the subject, the application of it, the beautiful simile
given as a counterpart, and the strikingly appropriate idea
with which it closes. Of this idea, the classical reader will
at once perceive the elegance and force; but he cannot do
so fully, unless he have also seen in the churches of seaport
towns on the continent, as for instance, that of Santa Maria
del Socorro, at Cadiz, the votive offerings of gratitude for
deliverances from danger.</p>
<p>The ‘Ode to Night’ might have been considered worthy
of equally unqualified commendation, were it not for the
circumstance that <a href="#note46" title="See note">twelve out of the nineteen stanzas</a> it contains
are almost a paraphrase from the Italian of Ippolito
Pindemonte. At the time of making the translation hereafter
given, I had not read that very pleasing writer, but
have since found the source of the poem in his ‘Poesie Campestri,
Le quattro parti del giorno,’ to which, therefore,
justice requires the acknowledgement to be given. It is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span>
much to be regretted that Heredia did not distinguish his
original compositions in all cases from imitations, as there is
no statement with regard to this one, of its having been taken
from another author. There are other instances of the same
neglect, as in a close translation from Campbell of ‘The Ode
to the Rainbow,’ equally unacknowledged. The interests of
literature require that such acknowledgements should be
uniformly made, that we should know gold from imitations,
and give every one his right and place. As the same Italian
poet remarked in his ‘Opinioni Politiche,’</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Conosco anch’io negli ordini civili</div>
<div class="verse">L’oro dal fango, ed anch’io veggio che altra</div>
<div class="verse">Cosa è il nascere Inglese, ed altra Turco.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>Heredia’s original poems, many of them written to, or
respecting his near relatives or other friends, betoken so
much true poetic feeling, as well as flow of poetical ideas,
that we cannot suppose the neglect of which we have complained
to have been more than an oversight. He might
even in some cases have lost remembrance of his obligations,
and repeated from memory when he thought he was writing
from inspiration. The latter <a href="#note47" title="See note">part of his first volume is entirely
taken up with “Imitations;”</a> but those we have noticed
above are in the second volume, without any distinction from
the original poems.</p>
<p>He had, however, in early life so many privations to endure,
and so many daily necessities for which to make a
daily provision, that we may not be surprised at his inexactness
in minor matters. In the preface to the second edition,
he says, that “the revolutionary whirlwind had made him
traverse over a vast course in a short time, and that with
better or worse fortune he had been an advocate, a soldier, a
traveller, a teacher of languages, a diplomatist, a journalist,
a judge, a writer of history, and a poet at twenty-five years<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span>
of age. All my writings,” he observes, “must partake of
the variableness of my lot. The new generation will enjoy
serener days, and those who then dedicate themselves to the
Muses will be much more happy.” On his first going to
Mexico, it is to be supposed that he had to enter on military
duties in the unsettled state of the country, and that he had
some diplomatic commissions entrusted to him by the government,
of which, however, we have no other account.
This, in fact, may be said to be the first biographical notice
of him published, obtained from information given by his
relatives, who, having been long separated from him, could
not explain the particular references more fully.</p>
<p>As a writer of history, he had published, also in Mexico, a
work in four volumes, 8vo. which was chiefly a compilation
from Tytler, but with additions in Spanish and Mexican
history, suited to the community, for whose benefit it was
intended. In this respect, as in so many other parts of his
career, the knowledge he had acquired of the English language
was of essential assistance to him, while it was no
less evident that his knowledge of English literature had improved
his taste and strengthened his powers of mind also in
his own compositions.</p>
<p>In private life Heredia appears to have been a most amiable
character: courteous, generous, and possessed of the most lively
sensibility, he made himself beloved by all who had to enter
into communication with him. He was also remarkable for
the exceeding great ingenuousness of his disposition, which,
while it rendered him incapable of vanity in himself, made
him at the same time as incapable of dwelling on the faults
of others. Several of his poems show further a religious
feeling, which no doubt enabled him to bear with becoming
equanimity the various trials to which he had been subjected.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span></p>
<p>Those trials it seemed were appointed to attend him further,
even if it had pleased the Almighty to prolong his existence.
Shortly before his death, the Mexican legislature
passed a law declaring that no one should hold any office
under the republic who was not a natural born citizen; and
thus he was, among others, deprived of the offices he had
held with credit to himself and advantage to the state. If
the measure were directed against him personally, it was of
short operation, and political intrigues could not avail to deprive
him of the consciousness of having fulfilled his duties
honourably, or of the claim he had to leave on the remembrance
of future ages.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p>
<h3>JOSÈ MARIA HEREDIA.</h3>
<h4>SONNET.
DEDICATION OF THE SECOND EDITION
OF HIS POEMS,
TO HIS WIFE.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">When yet was burning in my fervid veins</div>
<div class="verse">The fieriness of youth, with many a tear</div>
<div class="verse">Of grief, ’twas mine of all my feelings drear,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To pour in song the passion and the pains;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And now to Thee I dedicate the strains,</div>
<div class="verse">My Wife! when Love, from youth’s illusions freer,</div>
<div class="verse">In our pure hearts is glowing deep and clear,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And calm serene for me the daylight gains.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thus lost on raging seas, for aid implores</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of Heaven the unhappy mariner, the mark</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of tempests bearing on him wild and dark;</div>
<div class="verse">And on the altars, when are gain’d the shores,</div>
<div class="verse">Faithful to the Deity he adores,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">He consecrates the relics of his bark.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span></p>
<h4>TO HIS HORSE.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Friend of my hours of melancholy gloom,</div>
<div class="verse">To soothe me now, come, scouring o’er the plain;</div>
<div class="verse">Bear me that I forgetfulness may gain,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Lost in thy speed from my unhappy doom.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">The fond illusions of my love are gone,</div>
<div class="verse">Fled never to return! and with them borne</div>
<div class="verse">Peace, happiness and hope: the veil is drawn,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And the bared cheat shows frenzy’s end alone.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">O! how the memory of pleasures past</div>
<div class="verse">Now wearies me! horrible that soul’s state,</div>
<div class="verse">Of flowers of hope, or freshness desolate!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">What then remains it? Bitterness o’ercast.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">This south wind kills me: O! that I could rest</div>
<div class="verse">In sweet oblivion, temporary death!</div>
<div class="verse">Kind sleep might moderate my feverish breath,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And my worn soul again with strength be blest.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">My Horse, my friend, I do implore thee, fly!</div>
<div class="verse">Though with the effort break my frame so weak:</div>
<div class="verse">Grant for thy master’s brows he thus may seek</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Sleep’s balmy wings spread forth benignantly.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Let him from thee gain such refreshment kind;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Though much another day it caused me shame,</div>
<div class="verse">In my mad cruelty and frenzy’s blame,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My crimson’d heels, and thy torn flanks to find.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Pardon my fury! beats upon my eye</div>
<div class="verse">The sorrowing tear. Friend, when my shouts declare</div>
<div class="verse">Impatience, then the biting spur to spare</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Wait not, but toss thy mane, thy head, and fly.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h4>THE SEASON OF THE NORTHERS.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">The wearying summer’s burning heat</div>
<div class="verse">Is now assuaged; for from the North</div>
<div class="verse">The winds from frost come shaken forth,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">’Midst clouds o’er Cuba rushing fleet,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And free us from the fever’s wrath.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Deep roars the sea, with breast swell’d high,</div>
<div class="verse">And beats the beach with lashing waves;</div>
<div class="verse">Zephyr his wings in freshness laves,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And o’er the sun and shining sky,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Veil-like, transparent vapours fly.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Hail, happy days! by you o’erthrown</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>
<div class="verse">We see the altar, which ’mong flowers</div>
<div class="verse">May rear’d to Death: attendant lowers,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With pallid face, vile Fever lone,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And with sad brilliancy it shone.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Both saw the sons, with anxious brow,</div>
<div class="verse">Of milder realms approaching nigh,</div>
<div class="verse">Beneath this all-consuming sky:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With their pale sceptres touched, they bow,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And in the fatal grave are now.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">But their reign o’er, on outspread wing,</div>
<div class="verse">To purify the poison’d air,</div>
<div class="verse">The north winds cold and moisture bear;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Across our fields they sounding spring,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And rest from August’s rigours bring.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">O’er Europe’s gloomy climates wide,</div>
<div class="verse">Now from the North fierce sweeps the blast;</div>
<div class="verse">Verdure and life from earth are past:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With snow man sees it whelm’d betide,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And in closed dwellings must abide.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">There all is death and grief! but here,</div>
<div class="verse">All life and joy! see, Phœbus smile</div>
<div class="verse">More sooth through lucid clouds, the while</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Our woods and plains new lustres cheer,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And double spring inspires the year.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">O, happy land! his tenderest care</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Thee, favour’d! the Creator yields,</div>
<div class="verse">And kindest smile: ne’er from thy fields</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Again may fate me fiercely tear!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">O, let my last sun light me there!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">How sweet it is to hear the rain,</div>
<div class="verse">My love! so softly falling thus</div>
<div class="verse">On the low roof that shelters us!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And the winds whistling o’er the plain</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And bellowings of the distant main.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Fill high my cup with golden wine;</div>
<div class="verse">Let cares and griefs be driven away;</div>
<div class="verse">That proved by thee, my thirst to stay,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Will, my adored! more precious shine,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">So touch’d by those sweet lips of thine.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">By thee on easy seat reclined,</div>
<div class="verse">My lyre how happy will I string;</div>
<div class="verse">My love and country’s praise to sing;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My blissful lot, thy face and mind,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And love ineffable and kind!</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span></p>
<h4>POESY, AN ODE.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Soul of the universe, bright Poesy!</div>
<div class="verse">Thy spirit vivifies, and, like the blast</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That’s burning in the desert swiftly free,</div>
<div class="verse">In its course all inflames where it has past.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Happy the man who feels within his breast</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The fire celestial purely is possess’d!</div>
<div class="verse">For that to worth, to virtue elevates,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And to his view makes smile the shadowy forms</div>
<div class="verse">Confused of joys to come, and future fates:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of cruel fortune ’gainst the gathering storms</div>
<div class="verse">It shields him, causing him to dwell among</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The beings of his own creation bright:</div>
<div class="verse">It arms him daringly with wings of light,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And to the world invisible along</div>
<div class="verse">Bears him, to wondering mortals to unseal</div>
<div class="verse">The mysteries which the horrid depths reveal.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">High inspiration! O, what hours of joy,</div>
<div class="verse">Deep and ineffable, without alloy,</div>
<div class="verse">Hast thou benign conceded to my breast!</div>
<div class="verse">On summer nights, with brilliant hues impress’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">’Tis sweet to break with sounding prow the wave</div>
<div class="verse">Of the dark surging sea, which shows behind</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">A lengthen’d streak of light the current gave.</div>
<div class="verse">’Tis sweet to bound where lofty mountains wind,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or on thy steed to scour along the plain;</div>
<div class="verse">But sweeter to my fiery soul ’tis far</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To feel myself whirl’d forward in the train</div>
<div class="verse">Of thy wild torrent, and as with a star</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The brow deck’d proudly, hear thy oracles</div>
<div class="verse">Divine; and to repeat them, as of old</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Greece listen’d mute to those from Delphic cells</div>
<div class="verse">The favour’d priestess of Apollo told;</div>
<div class="verse">While she with sacred horror would unfold</div>
<div class="verse">The words prophetic, trembling to refer</div>
<div class="verse">To the consuming god that frenzied her.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">There is of life a spirit that pervades</div>
<div class="verse">The universe divine: ’tis he who shades</div>
<div class="verse">All Nature’s loveliest scenes with majesty,</div>
<div class="verse">And glory greater: beauty’s self ’tis he,</div>
<div class="verse">Who robes with radiant mantle, and endows</div>
<div class="verse">Her eye with language eloquent, while flows</div>
<div class="verse">Soft music from her voice; ’tis he who lends</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To her the magic irresistible,</div>
<div class="verse">And fatal, which her smile and look attends,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Making men mad and drunk beneath her spell.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">If on the marble’s sleeping forms he breathe,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span>
<div class="verse">To life they start the chisel’s touch beneath:</div>
<div class="verse">In Phædra, Tancred, Zorayde he wrings</div>
<div class="verse">The heart within us deep; or softly brings</div>
<div class="verse">Love-fraught delight, as do their strains inspire</div>
<div class="verse">Anacreon, or Tibullus, or the lyre</div>
<div class="verse">Of our Melendez, sweetest languishings.</div>
<div class="verse">Or wrapt in thunder snatches us away</div>
<div class="verse">With Pindar, or Herrera, or thy lay,</div>
<div class="verse">Illustrious Quintana! to the heights,</div>
<div class="verse">Where virtue, and where glory too invites.</div>
<div class="verse">By him compels us Tasso to admire</div>
<div class="verse">Clorinda; Homer fierce Achilles’ ire;</div>
<div class="verse">And Milton, elevated all beyond,</div>
<div class="verse">His direful angel, arm’d of diamond.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O’er all, though invisible, this spirit dwells;</div>
<div class="verse">But from ethereal mansions he descends</div>
<div class="verse">To show himself to men, and thus portends</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His steps the night rain, and the thunder tells.</div>
<div class="verse">There have I seen him: or perhaps serene</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In the sun’s beam, he wanders to o’erflow</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Heaven, earth and sea, in waves of golden glow.</div>
<div class="verse">On music’s accent trembles he unseen;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And solitude he loves, he lists attent</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The waters’ rush in headlong fury sent:</div>
<div class="verse">The wandering Arabs o’er their sands he leads,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And through their agitated breasts inspires</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span>
<div class="verse">A feeling undefined, but great to deeds</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of desperate and wild liberty that fires.</div>
<div class="verse">With joy he sits upon the mountain heights,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or thence descends, to mirror in the deep,</div>
<div class="verse">In crystal fixedness, or animates</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The tempest with his cries along to sweep:</div>
<div class="verse">Or if its clear and sparkling veil extend</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The night, upon the lofty poop reclined,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With ecstasy delights to inspire his mind,</div>
<div class="verse">Who raptured views the skies with ocean blend.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Noble and lovely is the ardour felt</div>
<div class="verse">For glory! for its laurel pants my heart;</div>
<div class="verse">And I would fain, this world when I depart,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of my steps leave deep traces where I dwelt.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">This of thy favour, spirit most divine!</div>
<div class="verse">I well may hope, for that eternal lives</div>
<div class="verse">Thy glowing flame, and life eternal gives.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Mortals, whom fate gave genius forth to shine,</div>
<div class="verse">Haste anxious to the sacred fount, where flows</div>
<div class="verse">Thy fiery inspiration; but bestows</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The world unworthy guerdon on their pains:</div>
<div class="verse">While them a mortal covering enshrouds,</div>
<div class="verse">Obscure they wander through the listless crowds;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Contempt and indigence their lot remains,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Perchance ev’n impious mockery all their gains:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span>
<div class="verse">At length they die, and their souls take the road</div>
<div class="verse">Of the great fount of light whence first they flow’d;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And then, in spite of envy, o’er their tomb</div>
<div class="verse">A sterile laurel buds, ay, buds and grows,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And thus protects the ashes in the gloom,</div>
<div class="verse">’Neath its immortal shade; but vainly shows</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To teach men justice. Ages onward fleet</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The lamentable drama to repeat,</div>
<div class="verse">Without regret or shame. Homer! thou divine,</div>
<div class="verse">Milton sublime, unhappy Tasso thine,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The fate to tell it. Genius yet the while</div>
<div class="verse">Faces misfortune undismayed; his ears</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Dwell only on the applauses to beguile,</div>
<div class="verse">His songs will happy gain in future years;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His glory, his misfortunes will excite</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Sweet sympathy; posterity will requite</div>
<div class="verse">Justice against their sires, who thus condemn</div>
<div class="verse">Him now to grief and misery, shame on them!</div>
<div class="verse">From his tomb he will reign; his cherish’d name</div>
<div class="verse">Will beauty with respect and sighs proclaim.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On her eye gleams the bright and precious tear</div>
<div class="verse">His burning pages then will draw from her,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Kind-hearted loveliness! he sees it near;</div>
<div class="verse">His heart beats, he is moved; and strong to incur</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The cruelty and injustice, is consoled;</div>
<div class="verse">And waiting thus his triumph to obtain,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Enjoying it, though but in death to hold,</div>
<div class="verse">Flies his Creator’s bosom to regain.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">O, sweet illusion! who has had the power</div>
<div class="verse">To save himself from thee, who was not born</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Than the cold marble, or the rough trunk lower?</div>
<div class="verse">With ardour I embrace, and wait thee lorn.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Yet of my Muse perchance some happier strains</div>
<div class="verse">Will me survive, and my sepulchral stone</div>
<div class="verse">Will not be left to tell of me alone!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Perhaps my name, which rancour now detains</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Proscribed, will yet resound o’er Cuba’s plains,</div>
<div class="verse">On the swift trumpet of enduring fame!</div>
<div class="verse">Correggio, when he saw his canvas flame</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With life, “a painter,” it was his to cry,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">“I also am!”—A poet too am I.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h4>ODE TO NIGHT.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Night reigns; in silence deep around</div>
<div class="verse">Dreams whirl through empty space;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Clothing with her pure light the ground,</div>
<div class="verse">The moon shows bright her face:</div>
<div class="verse">Soft hour of peace; without a trace</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of Man, where rise these heights uphurl’d,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">I sit abandon’d of the world.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">How Nature’s quietude august</div>
<div class="verse">Delights the feeling mind,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That heeds her voice, and learns to trust</div>
<div class="verse">Its joys with her to find!</div>
<div class="verse">Sweet silence! here I rest reclined,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With but the river’s murmurings heard,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or leaves by gentle breezes stirr’d.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Now its repose on languid wings,</div>
<div class="verse">Its freshness Night supplies;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To shaded heaven which faithful clings,</div>
<div class="verse">And blaze of daylight flies:</div>
<div class="verse">Unseen by that, mysterious lies</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On mount and plain, to please though sad,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Still beauteous ev’n in horrors clad.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">How is the ecstatic soul impress’d</div>
<div class="verse">With melancholy thought!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The lovely picture here possess’d</div>
<div class="verse">Sublime with sadness fraught!</div>
<div class="verse">How more its music to be sought,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And peace, than all that may entrance</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The echoes of the noisy dance.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Around the proud saloon reflect</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Each face the mirrors there;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With diamonds, pearls, and gold bedeck’d,</div>
<div class="verse">Light dance the gentle fair;</div>
<div class="verse">And with their witching grace and air,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">O’er thousand lovers holding sway,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Their vows and plaudits bear away.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Lovely is that! I one day too,</div>
<div class="verse">When childhood scarce above,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Through balls and banquets would pursue</div>
<div class="verse">The object of my love.</div>
<div class="verse">And from the young beloved I strove,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As magic treasure, to obtain</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A passing look, or smile to gain.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">But now by cares subdued, and bound</div>
<div class="verse">By languor and disease,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Than gilded halls, these plains around</div>
<div class="verse">Me more the night hours please:</div>
<div class="verse">To the gay dance preferring these,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The calm asylum they supply,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To meditate beneath this sky.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">O! ever shine on me the stars,</div>
<div class="verse">In a clear heaven as now!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And as my Maker that avers,</div>
<div class="verse">There let me turn my brow.</div>
<div class="verse">O! God of heaven, to Thee I bow!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And raise by night my humble strain,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">The voice of my consuming pain.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Thee, also, friendly Moon! I hail;</div>
<div class="verse">I always loved thee dear:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thou, Queen of heaven! me ne’er didst fail,</div>
<div class="verse">In fortunes fair or drear,</div>
<div class="verse">To guide, to counsel, and to cheer:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thou know’st how oft, to enjoy thy ray,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I chide the blaze and heat of day.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Oft seated on the wide sea-shore,</div>
<div class="verse">Whose waves reflected thee,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To muse alone, thou smiling o’er,</div>
<div class="verse">I pass’d the night hours free;</div>
<div class="verse">And ’midst my clouded hopes to see</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thy face serene, I found relief,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In sweet complaint to pour my grief.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">For throbs, alas! my breast with pain,</div>
<div class="verse">Consumption’s wounds to bear;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And pales my cheek, as thou must wane</div>
<div class="verse">Beneath the morning’s glare.</div>
<div class="verse">When I shall sink, grant this my prayer,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That thy light ne’er to shine defer,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On thy friend’s humble sepulchre.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">But, hark! what dulcet notes arise</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span>
<div class="verse">The neighbouring woods among?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Causing these tender thoughts and sighs</div>
<div class="verse">My lonely breast to throng.</div>
<div class="verse">Sweet Nightingale, it is thy song!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I always loved thy wood-notes wild,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Like me from sorrow ne’er beguiled.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Perish whoe’er for thy soft note</div>
<div class="verse">Seeks thee to oppress or take.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Why rather not like me remote,</div>
<div class="verse">Thee follow through the brake,</div>
<div class="verse">Where these thick woods our shelter make?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Fly free and happy round thy nest;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Enslaved I wish none, none oppress’d.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Night, ancient goddess! Chaos thee</div>
<div class="verse">Produced before the sun;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And the last sun ’tis thine to see</div>
<div class="verse">When the world’s course is run;</div>
<div class="verse">And the Lord wills his work undone!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Hear me, while this life’s breath is raised,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">By me thou shalt be loved and praised.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Before time was, in Chaos vast</div>
<div class="verse">Thou laid perhaps mightst view</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thy coming beauties, as forecast</div>
<div class="verse">Thy destined glories grew:</div>
<div class="verse">Looking thy veil of shadows through</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With face obscured, to meditate</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Calm on thy future power and state.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Thou camest, O Queen! from Ocean’s bars</div>
<div class="verse">At the Creator’s voice,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With sceptre raised, and crown’d with stars,</div>
<div class="verse">And mantle glittering choice;</div>
<div class="verse">And bade the silent world rejoice,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To see through space thy brow severe</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Shine with the kind moon’s silvery sphere.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">How many high truths have I learn’d</div>
<div class="verse">Beneath thy solemn shade!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">What inspirations in me burn’d</div>
<div class="verse">’Mid the wood’s silence laid!</div>
<div class="verse">In thee I saw sublime display’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The Almighty’s power, and seized my lyre,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And fervid dared to Heaven aspire.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Great Goddess, hail! in thy calm breast</div>
<div class="verse">Let me soothe every care!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thy peaceful balm may give me rest</div>
<div class="verse">From ills my heart that tear.</div>
<div class="verse">Sweet pitying friend! to whom repair</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Poets and mourners for repose,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">O, Night! in soft peace end my woes.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="XI">XI.<br />
<span class="smaller">JOSÈ DE ESPRONCEDA.</span></h3>
<p>In the introductory part of this work, while acknowledging
the merits of the earlier poets of Spain, it may be remembered
that a claim was made in favour of the still superior excellences
of their successors in the present day. If the reader,
who has followed us so far through these notices, has not
already come to the same conclusion, his assent may be confidently
expected to the assertion, in consideration of the surpassingly
poetical genius of the two writers who have now to
come under his review.</p>
<p>In considering the merits of their earlier poets, the best
critics of Spain have not been so blinded by national partiality
as to be led into awarding them unqualified commendations.
In the very able prologue to the ‘Moro Esposito’ of the Duke
de Rivas, said to have been written by the celebrated Alcalà
Galiano, we find an estimation of them which we can adopt,
as correct in judgement as it is unexceptionable for an authority.
He says, “Though the tenderness of Garcilasso, the
warmth of Herrera, the fancy, at once lively and thoughtful,
of Rioja, and, above all, those strong feelings of devotion
which give to Fray Luis de Leon a character so original, even
when he is most an imitator, are sources of great perfections,
and most glorious crowns of the Spanish Parnassus, yet we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span>
are obliged to confess, that in the Spanish poets, lyric and
pastoral, we see too great a sameness, that their stock of ideas
and images is limited and common to them all, and that if
varied and choice in expression, they are uniform in their
arguments and plans, founding their merit more in the gala
and pomp of language, in the floridness and sonorousness of
verse, and in the ingenious dexterity of making variations
on one theme, than in the vigour and originality of their
thoughts, or in the strength and profoundness of the emotions
which they felt, or which their works excite in the
minds of their readers.”</p>
<p>Entirely coinciding in the opinions thus expressed, we feel,
on the other hand, with regard to the modern Spanish poets,
that while they have fully maintained the grace and beauty
that distinguished their predecessors in former ages, their
genius has expanded over far wider fields, and embraced subjects
of as varied and powerful interest as the contemporary
poetry of any other country can present to delight or captivate.
As instances in support of this opinion, we have, in
particular, to refer to the comparatively few but exceedingly
brilliant compositions of Espronceda, whose early loss, at only
thirty-two years of age, the whole literary world has to deplore.</p>
<p>We have great cause to be thankful to Ferrer del Rio that
we have any account at all of this very eminent lyric poet,
though the one he has given is far from being so full as the
admirers of his genius might have desired. From that account,
we learn that it was in the spring of 1810, during the
most momentous period of the war of independence, a colonel
of cavalry, after some long and harassing marches, was obliged
to halt at the small town of Almendralejo, in the province of
Estremadura, in the face of the enemy, on account of his wife,
who had followed him through the campaigns, having there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span>
had a son born, the subject of this narrative. We have no
other particulars of his earlier years, than that on the conclusion
of the war his parents settled at Madrid, where he was
placed at an early age under the tuition of Lista, a writer
who enjoyed considerable reputation at the time as a poet,
but whose chief merit consisted in his critical and elementary
works. Under such a preceptor, his natural genius found a
congenial course of tuition, and verse-making seems to have
been a part of his usual studies. It was remarked, that
though he was by no means inclined to steady application,
yet, that by the force of his quick comprehension, he shone
as prominently as others of greater industry, and when a
mere boy produced verses which gave tokens of future eminence.</p>
<p>When only fourteen years of age he joined a society of
youths who called themselves Numantines, and was elected
one of their tribunes. In their meetings, no doubt, there was
much intended treason debated, for which, whether deservedly
or not, the government of the day thought proper to proceed
against them at law, and Espronceda, with others, was sentenced
to three months’ imprisonment in the convent of Guadalajera,
in which town his father then resided. There, in
the solitude of his imprisonment, his active mind found employment
in poetry, and he was bold enough to begin an epic
poem on the subject of the national hero, Pelayo. Of this
poem there are fragments given among his works, from which
we may judge favourably of what it might have proved when
completed, containing as it does many striking passages. The
representation of Hunger, and the Dream of the King, Don
Roderic, are bold conceptions, and if they were not the additions
of after-years, were truly remarkable as the productions
of any one at so early an age.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span></p>
<p>On his release from the convent he returned to Madrid,
but feeling himself under restraint as subject to the observation
of the police, and desirous also of visiting other countries,
he shortly afterwards went to Gibraltar and thence to Lisbon.
There he seems to have been subjected to great privations,
which, however, did not prevent his being involved in romantic
adventures, characteristic of one of his temperament,
such as he subsequently described with all the warmth of
poetic feeling. But the ministers of the king, now restored
to absolute power by French intervention, could not allow
Spanish emigrants to be congregated so near to Spain, and at
their instance Espronceda and others were obliged to go from
Lisbon to London. How he maintained himself, during these
wanderings, we are not informed, but his relatives probably
had the means to afford him sufficient for his pressing necessities,
and the love of adventure would lead him, oftentimes
willingly, into situations from which most others would have
recoiled.</p>
<p>In London, we are informed, that he enjoyed the happiest
period of his life, though not abounding in resources; passing
his time between his studies and gaieties, which resulted in
confirmed dissipation. He learned to read Shakespeare and
Milton, as well as Byron, and considering his inclinations, his
habits and his writings, we need not be surprised to find him
supposed to have taken the last for his model. There he
began the series of compositions which place him in the first
rank of lyric poets, though we have to lament that they are
tinctured with a spirit of such evil character. His ‘Elegy to
Spain,’ dated London, 1829, is in the original written with
peculiar sweetness of expression, which Del Rio finds in the
style of the Prophet of the Lamentations, and which, though
not so well suited for translation as most of his other poem<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span>s,
has been chosen as the effusion of the patriotic muse of Spain,
no less worthy of note than others of more general application.</p>
<p>From London he passed over to Paris, and happening to be
there during the three memorable days of July 1830, he took
part in the fearful scenes which then took place with all the
ardour of his character as well as of youth. He joined afterwards
the small band of emigrants who crossed the Pyrenees
in the hopeless attempt of subverting the despotic sway that
then prevailed, resulting in the death of Don Joaquin de Pablo,
whom his friends regarded as falling heroically, and to whose
memory Espronceda has left a poem of great beauty. Returning
to Paris, he entered himself in the rank of the bold
spirits who volunteered to lend their aid in the regeneration
of Poland, from which, and other similar schemes, he was
rescued by the promulgation of the first amnesty, of which
he took advantage immediately to return to Spain.</p>
<p>On his arrival in Madrid, he entered himself in the Royal
Guard, where he soon won the goodwill and affections of his
officers and comrades, and might have risen to distinction,
but for an unfortunate though characteristic occurrence. He
had written some verses on passing events connected with the
service, which were recited at a banquet, and having been
much applauded and passed from hand to hand, came to the
knowledge of the ministry, who thereupon, notwithstanding
the efforts of his colonel to the contrary, dismissed Espronceda
from the corps, and banished him to the town of Cuellar.
There he composed a work, which he called a novel, under the
title of the ‘Sancho of Saldania,’ but which, though containing
some good sketches and descriptions, is only worthy of
notice as having been one of his compositions.</p>
<p>“On the dawning of liberty in Spain with the p<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span>romulgation
of the Estatuto,” by Martinez de la Rosa, he came forward
as a journalist, connected with the paper published as
‘The Age.’ His proud spirit could not submit to the censorship
previously existing, but even now he had to feel its influence.
The fourteenth number of his paper, the most violent
of the time, was found to contain some articles which
were forbidden by the censor, and as the time pressed, the
editors did not know how to supply the deficiency. The
ready genius of Espronceda suggested a scheme, which, after
a little hesitation, was adopted: this was to publish the sheet
in blank, with merely the headings, which had not been
struck out of the manuscript by the censor. Accordingly,
the usual sheet appeared with the titles only of the subjects
it had originally to bear, namely—“The Amnesty;” “Domestic
Policy;” “Letter from Don Miguel and Don Manuel
Bravedeed in defence of their honour and patriotism;” “On
the Cortes;” “Song on the Death of Don Joaquin de
Pablo.” The effect was startling, and perhaps more powerful
than the forbidden articles would have proved. The
people supplied the deficiencies according to their individual
feelings, and the ingenuity of the device had its fullest success.
As the result, the publication of the paper was forbidden,
and the managers had to hide themselves for a time to
escape further prosecution.</p>
<p>In the years 1835 and 1836, there were several serious
commotions in Madrid in which he joined, erecting barricades
in the principal square, and making violent harangues
to the people. On both occasions the disturbances were soon
put down by the military, and he had to hide himself in the
provinces, until, in the year 1840, Espartero having put himself
at the head of the liberal party, the public principles prevailed
for which Espronceda had so exerted himself. He
then came forth again from his retirement, and made himself
conspicuous by appearing as an advocate in a ca<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span>se in which
a paper named the ‘Hurricane’ had been denounced at law
for a seditious article it contained. Espronceda’s speech in
defence, from some passages of it given by Del Rio, appears
to have been very energetic, and as inflammatory as the
article accused, but he was successful, and the proprietor of
the paper was acquitted.</p>
<p>In the same year, 1840, he published the volume of poems
on which his fame rests, as perhaps the first lyric poet that
Spain has produced. Most of the contents had been previously
given in the periodical publications of Madrid, but it
was a great service to literature to have them collected. They
contained the fragment of the epic poem, ‘Pelayo,’ and a
short dramatic piece, entitled, ‘The Student of Salamanca,’
in which his own character is supposed to have been depicted;
as well as the lyric odes and other poems. They are comparatively
few in number, not exceeding fifteen altogether, but
of such rare excellence as to make us regret that so gifted a
writer was to be so soon cut off, depriving the literary world
of the hopes of still further excellence they gave reason to
expect. In the following year, 1841, he published his poem,
‘The Devil World, El Diablo Mundo,’ in four cantos, to
which three others were afterwards added, found among his
papers after his death. His friends had long feared that he
was not destined to attain a prolonged period of life, but their
fears were unhappily realized much sooner than they had
imagined.</p>
<p>In December 1841, Espronceda was sent to the Hague
as Secretary of Legation, but the coldness of the climate
affecting too severely his enfeebled constitution, he was
obliged, almost immediately, to return to Spain. He had
meanwhile been elected Deputy to the Cortes for Almeria,
and he attempted to take accordingly his share of public
duties. But his health and strength had been undermined<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span>
by the life of hazard, of privations and excesses he had undergone,
and the journey to the Hague in the depth of winter
seemed to give the final shock to his frame, from which
it could not recover. On the 23rd of May, 1842, his friends
and admirers were thrown into unexpected grief by hearing
that he had died that morning, after what was termed a four
days’ illness. The immediate cause was said to have been
some disorder affecting the throat, and his sufferings have
been described by an intimate friend and schoolfellow, who
was with him at the time, as very painful. The loss to Spain
and the whole literary world was as great as it was irreparable;
and so the people seemed to feel it, by the general expression
of regret over his fate, such as it seldom falls to the lot of any
one to excite.</p>
<p>The moralist might dilate on the evil courses which probably
hastened his death, and all must lament that a man
of such extraordinary genius should have sunk under them;
but before we judge any one severely, we should be certain of
being able to form a right judgement. The utmost remark,
therefore, we permit ourselves to make, may be to consider
his history as a lesson to all under similar circumstances of
life, that if they will not take heed to a moral in others, they
may become a warning themselves. Every man’s character
may be taken as a whole, in which his good and evil qualities
are often so blended together as to make them inseparable.
The excesses of youth are often “the flash and outbreak of a
fiery mind,” which shows itself in its true characters in other
respects, though often with the alloy of lower passions to
lead them to a fatal end. Thus Byron and Espronceda, two
kindred geniuses in our days, have sunk prematurely into the
grave, most unhappily, when new fields of glory seemed to
be opened before them to retrieve the past errors of life, and
make it in future as honourable as they had already rende<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span>red
it renowned.</p>
<p>The genius of Espronceda was kindred to Byron’s, of whom
he has been accused of having been an imitator. But this
seems to me unquestionably a mistake. During his residence
in England he had certainly acquired a good knowledge of
the English language and literature, much to his advantage;
but he could scarcely have acquired such a knowledge of
either as to put him in the position of an imitator. The
utmost that can be alleged of him in this respect is, that
the style of Byron’s writing was so congenial to his own taste
and talent, as to make him imbibe it intuitively, and so obtain
a more decided character for his own than perhaps it
would have otherwise attained.</p>
<p>It is certain that Spanish poetry never before presented
such depth of thought and feeling, and such fulness and
vigour of expression, as he gave to it; and it is apparent, in
every page of his works, that he had studied in a higher
school and become imbued with a brighter inspiration than
he could have done on the Continent. But what ordinary
imitators would have considered the characteristics of Byron
as models to follow, he had the good sense entirely to discard.
He has none of the egotism and affectation which distinguish
that school; and if he indulged in some of its propensities, it
is clear that they were the natural results of the circumstances
in which he was placed, and not the wilful perversions of misdirected
abilities. His poem to Harifa is written with an
earnestness of feeling that must be felt, even through the
haze of translation, giving tokens of its origin too distinct
to admit any supposition of its being a suggestion from any
other source than his own experience of life. Neither in this
poem nor in any other of his works is there any of those
mysterious suggestions of dark histories, or of those morbid
denunciations of imaginary wrongs which abound in the pr<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span>oductions
of the Byronian school. His complaints are the
evident effusions of a mind maddened at finding itself in a
state unworthy of its powers, and thus, instead of venting his
rage on others, he turned it against his own misdeeds, in
giving way to excesses that he scorned, and which he felt
degraded him. But even in his aspirations for higher thoughts,
he had the same leaven of earth to keep him from attaining
them. He had not learned the lessons which Jovellanos
inculcated in the Epistle to Bermudez, to seek wisdom where
only it ought to be sought; as he might have done even from
the heathen poet, that the hidden things of God could not
be found out, though he were to traverse over all space in
search of them.</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Ἀλλ’ οὐ γὰρ ἆν τὰ θεία, κρύπτοντος Θεοῦ,</div>
<div class="verse">Μάθεις ἆν, οὐδ’ εἰ πάντ’ ἐπεξελθοις σκότων.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>In somewhat of the same strain with these lines is the
second canto of his poem, the ‘Diablo Mundo,’ addressed
to Theresa, which, however, has no connexion with the rest
of the poem to which it is attached. The verses ‘To a Star,’
contain also poetical thoughts no less exquisite, though perhaps
not of so decided a character; and they are all valuable
at least in this, that instead of gilding over vices and follies,
they show the confession of one so highly gifted by nature,
that the indulgences of sensual gratifications are in reality
only sources of unhappiness.</p>
<p>Two other of his poems, ‘The Mendicant’ and ‘The Executioner,’
are no less distinguishable for the power of thought
and expression they display; but they also unfortunately indicate
such objectionable tendencies, as to make us regret that
his extraordinary talents had not been directed to nobler
subjects. Not so the two poems selected for translation,
‘The Song of the Pirate,’ and that of the ‘Criminal Condemned
to Die,’ in addition to those previously mentioned.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span>
Of these, the latter is one of such peculiarly energetic character,
as to need no comment. The other is one of the most
favourite poems known in Spain, and having been set to
music, is therefore heard repeated more frequently. It has
been said to have been taken from the French, but I believe
erroneously. It bears strongly the impress of Espronceda’s
genius; and if the poem intended be either of those by Floran
or Victor Hugo, any one who will take the trouble of comparing
them will observe that they are essentially different,
as each also is from the song of Lord Byron’s ‘Corsair.’</p>
<p>At the first view of it, the ‘Diablo Mundo’ appears to be
an imitation of ‘Don Juan;’ but it would be as unjust to
declare it so, as to say the latter had been copied from the
various Italian poems written in the same style. Espronceda
might have had the idea suggested by reading Lord Byron’s
poem, or Goëthe’s ‘Faust,’ or both, but he has carried it
much higher, and given the outlines of a nobler conception
than either. He begins by supposing that, absorbed in meditation,
during the silence of the night, he hears an extraordinary
noise, which calls back his feelings and arouses them.
That confused noise, with sublime music and solemn sound,
are all the passions of the world, all the interests found in
life,—the affections and hatreds, love, glory, wealth, the vices
and the virtues; they are, in fine, the complaint of the whole
universe that comes like a revolving whirlwind, and displays
before the fancy a thousand allegorical monsters, traced with
inimitable facility and astonishing vigour.</p>
<p>The visions pass away, the noise goes gradually off, losing
itself in the distance, until it ceases, where begins the introduction
of the poem. The first canto is the exposition of
the great drama proposed to be developed.</p>
<p>A man bowed down with age and embittered <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span>by sorrowful
and useless experience, shuts in despair a book he was reading,
and mournfully convinced of the barrenness of learning,
falls asleep. Death then presents itself, and intones a hymn
inviting him to the peace of the grave. With pleasure he
feels his benumbed limbs growing stiff with cold, and is
enjoying himself in the enervation of his spirit, when Immortality
suddenly rises up before him and sings another
hymn in opposition to that of Death, and like that also offering
herself to the man about to die.</p>
<p>The election is immediate; he chooses Immortality, and is
re-endowed with youth. The song of this deity, however,
does not lead to the immortality of the spirit, but of the
material part of man, and it is that he receives. The image
of death is invested with melancholy beauty; it is soft and
gentle; that which is desired when, free from prejudices, we
feel the heart worn and the soul discontented. The immortality
that rises over the pale front of death, effaces it with a
magnificent lustre. “It is impossible,” says Ros de Olano,
who has written the prologue to this beautiful poem, “to approach,
by any words of ours whatever, to the luxuriousness
of thought, of expression, and of knowledge displayed in this
sublime description, the most happy perhaps yet presented
in the Spanish language.” Grand, extended and immense is
the field which the poet has displayed to trace out a course
for his hero, and the variety of tones he employs are like the
face of the world, over which he has to range. As the character
is developed, the hero, with the body of a man and the
soul of a child, is placed in situations equally original and
interesting, and the whole scheme is one which gave full
scope to the writer for an unlimited work, even if he had
been permitted to live to the utmost period of human existence.</p>
<p>Del Rio states, that Espronceda was in his public discourses<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span>
an ineffective speaker, and ascribes it to the physical
weakness of his frame; he describes him as having been
distinguished for sarcasms, and only at intervals powerful in
declamation. “In conversation he made an affectation of
laughing at the restraints and virtues which are necessary
for the order of society, and yet in private life no one was
more remarkable for kindness and generosity. When the
cholera was raging in Madrid, he was one of the most active
in disregarding its attacks, and in attending to the wants of
those near him who were suffering from it.” “All who knew
him loved him, and even to his faults he knew how to give a
certain impression of greatness.” Del Rio proceeds to describe
him as having been graceful in his bearing, endowed
with manly beauty, and his countenance marked with a melancholy
cast that rendered it more interesting. He concludes
by observing, that notwithstanding the years that
have passed since his friends had to lament his loss, a garland
of everlastings never fails to be found renewed over his
grave.</p>
<p>In 1848 Baudry published another edition of Espronceda’s
works, at Paris, but, with the exception of the fifth and sixth
cantos of the ‘Diablo Mundo,’ there is no additional poem
given, though Del Rio points out six other pieces published
in different periodicals. This omission is much to be regretted,
as undoubtedly every line that proceeded from his
pen was worthy of being gathered together as a rare treasure.
It is to be hoped that some admirer of his genius may soon
collect those scattered relics, and give them in an edition
worthy of their character in Spanish literature. Another Life
of him also would be most desirable, as in the Paris edition
there is only repeated the account given by Ferrer del Rio,
which, though ably written as a sketch, is still on the same
scale with a number of other writers in the same work of far
inferior merits, and utterly unworthy of so great a genius a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span>s
Espronceda. Spanish versification under his influence has
become “revolutionized.” He has extended the powers apparently
even of the language itself, and by the force of his
style as well as by the varied character of his poems, has
certainly shown its capabilities more decidedly than any poet
who preceded him.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span></p>
<h3>JOSÈ DE ESPRONCEDA.</h3>
<h4>TO SPAIN, AN ELEGY.
LONDON, 1829.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">How solitary is the nation now</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That peopled countries vast a former day!</div>
<div class="verse">That all beneath her sovereignty to bow,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">From East to West extended once her sway!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Tears now profuse to shed, unhappy one,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Queen of the world! ’tis thine; and from thy face,</div>
<div class="verse">Enchanting yet in sorrow, there is none</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Its overwhelming traces to erase.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">How fatally o’er thee has death pour’d forth</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Darkness and mourning, horrible and great!</div>
<div class="verse">And the stern despot in his madden’d wrath</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Exulted wildly o’er thy low estate.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Nothing or great or beautiful he spared,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">My country! the young warrior by him fell,</div>
<div class="verse">The veteran fell, and vile his war-axe glared,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Pleased all its fury o’er thee to impel.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Ev’n the pure maiden fell beneath the rage</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of the unpitying despot, as the rose</div>
<div class="verse">Condemn’d the summer’s burning sun to engage</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her bloom and beauty withering soon must close.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Come, O! ye inhabiters of the earth,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And contemplate my misery! can there,</div>
<div class="verse">Tell me, be any found of mortal birth</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Bearing the sorrows I am doom’d to bear?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I wretched, banish’d from my native land,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Behold, far from the country I adore,</div>
<div class="verse">Her former glories lost and high command,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And only left her sufferings to deplore.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Her children have been fatally betray’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">By treacherous brethren, and a tyrant’s power;</div>
<div class="verse">And these her lovely fertile plains have made</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Fields o’er which lamentations only lower.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Her arms extended wide unhappy Spain,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her sons imploring in her deep distress:</div>
<div class="verse">Her sons they were, but her command was vain,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Unheard the traitor madness to repress.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Whate’er could then avail thee, tower or wall,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">My country! still amid thy woes adored?</div>
<div class="verse">Where were the heroes that could once appal</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The fiercest foe? where thy unconquer’d sword?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Alas! now on thy children’s humbled brow</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Deeply is shame engraved, and on their eyes,</div>
<div class="verse">Cast down and sorrowfully beating now,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The tears alone of grief and mourning rise.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Once was a time for Spain, when she possess’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A hundred heroes in her hour of pride;</div>
<div class="verse">And trembling nations saw her manifest</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her power and beauty, dazzling by their side.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">As lofty shows itself in Lebanon</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The cedar, so her brow she raised on high;</div>
<div class="verse">And fell her voice the nations round upon,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As terrifies a girl the thunders nigh.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But as a stone now in the desert’s wild</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thou liest abandon’d, and an unknown way</div>
<div class="verse">Through strangers’ lands, uncertain where, exiled</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The patriot’s doom’d unfortunate to stray.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Her ancient pomp and power are cover’d o’er</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With sand and weeds contemptuous; and the foe,</div>
<div class="verse">That trembled at her puissance before,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Now mocks exulting and enjoys her woe.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Maidens! your flowing locks dishevell’d tear,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">To give them to the wandering winds; and bring</div>
<div class="verse">Your harps in mournful company to share</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With me the sorrowful laments I sing.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thus banish’d from our homes afar away</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Still let us weep our miseries. O! Spain,</div>
<div class="verse">Who shall have power thy torments to allay?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Who shall have power to dry thy tears again!</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h4>THE CONDEMNED TO DIE.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<h5>I.</h5>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">His form upon the ground reclined,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With bitter anguish inward drawn,</div>
<div class="verse">Full of the coming day his mind,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That soon will sadly dawn,</div>
<div class="verse">The culprit waits, in silence laid,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The fatal moments hastening now,</div>
<div class="verse">In which his last sun’s light display’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Will shine upon his brow.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O’er crucifix and altar there,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The chapel cell in mourning hung,</div>
<div class="verse">From the dim candle’s yellow glare</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A funeral light is flung;</div>
<div class="verse">And by the wretched culprit’s side,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His face with hood half cover’d o’er,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span>
<div class="verse">The friar, with trembling voice to guide,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Is heard his prayers implore.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">His brow then raises he again,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And slowly lifts to heaven his eyes;</div>
<div class="verse">Perhaps a prayer for mercy fain</div>
<div class="verse indent1">May in his grief arise.</div>
<div class="verse">A tear flows: whence had that release?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Was it from bitterness or fear?</div>
<div class="verse">Perhaps his sorrows to increase</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Some thought to memory dear?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">So young! and life, that he had dream’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Was full of golden days to glide,</div>
<div class="verse">Is pass’d, when childhood’s tears it seem’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As scarcely yet were dried.</div>
<div class="verse">Then on him of his childhood burst</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The thought, and of his mother’s woe,</div>
<div class="verse">That he whom she so fondly nursed</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Was doom’d that death to know.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And while that hopelessly he sees</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His course already death arrest,</div>
<div class="verse">He feels his life’s best energies</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Beat strongly in his breast;</div>
<div class="verse">And sees that friar, who calmly now</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Is laid, with sleep no more to strive,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span>
<div class="verse">With age so feebly doom’d to bow,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Tomorrow will survive.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But hark! what noise the silence breaks</div>
<div class="verse indent1">This hour unseasonably by?</div>
<div class="verse">Some one a gay guitar awakes</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And mirthful songs reply;</div>
<div class="verse">And shouts are raised, and sounds are heard</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of bottles rattling, and perchance</div>
<div class="verse">Others, remember’d well, concurr’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of lovers in the dance.</div>
<div class="verse">And then he hears funereal roll,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Between each pause in accents high,</div>
<div class="verse">“Your alms, for prayers to rest the soul</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of him condemn’d to die.”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And so combined the drunkard’s shout,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The toast, the strifes, and fancies wild</div>
<div class="verse">Of all that Bacchanalian rout,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With wanton’s songs defiled,</div>
<div class="verse">And bursts of idle laughter, reach</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Distinct into the gloomy cell,</div>
<div class="verse">And seem far off ejected each</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The very sounds of hell.</div>
<div class="verse">And then he hears, funereal roll</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Between each pause, those accents high,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span>
<div class="verse">“Your alms, for prayers to rest the soul</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of him condemn’d to die.”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">He cursed them all, as one by one</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The impious echos each express’d;</div>
<div class="verse">He cursed the mother as a son</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Who nursed him at her breast:</div>
<div class="verse">The whole world round alike he cursed,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His evil destiny forlorn,</div>
<div class="verse">And the dark day and hour when first</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That wretched he was born.</div>
</div>
<h5>II.</h5>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The moon serene illumes the skies,</div>
<div class="verse">And earth in deepest stillness lies;</div>
<div class="verse">No sound is heard, the watchdog’s mute,</div>
<div class="verse">And ev’n the lover’s plaintive lute.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Madrid enveloped lies in sleep;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Repose o’er all its shade has cast,</div>
<div class="verse">And men of him no memory keep</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Who soon will breathe his last.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Or if perchance one thinks to wake</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">At early dawn, no thoughts whate’er</div>
<div class="verse">Rise for the wretched being’s sake,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Who death is waiting there.</div>
<div class="verse">Unmoved by pity’s kind control,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Men hear around the funeral cry,</div>
<div class="verse">“Your alms, for prayers to rest the soul</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of him condemn’d to die.”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Sleeps in his bed the judge in peace;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And sleeps and dreams of how his store,</div>
<div class="verse">The executioner, to increase;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And pleased he counts it o’er.</div>
<div class="verse">Only the city’s silence breaks,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And destined place of death portrays,</div>
<div class="verse">The harden’d workman who awakes</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The scaffolding to raise.</div>
</div>
<h5>III.</h5>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Confused and mad his heated mind,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With raving feverish dreams combined,</div>
<div class="verse">The culprit’s soul exhaustion press’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His head sunk heavy on his breast.</div>
<div class="verse">And in his dreams he life and death</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Confounds, remembers, and forgets;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span>
<div class="verse">And fearful struggling every breath,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And sigh he gives besets.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And in a world of darkness seems</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As now to stray; feels fear and cold,</div>
<div class="verse">And in his horrid madness deems</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The cord his neck infold:</div>
<div class="verse">And so much more, in desperate fight,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In anguish to escape his lot,</div>
<div class="verse">He strives, with so much more the might</div>
<div class="verse indent1">He binds the fatal knot:</div>
<div class="verse">And voices hears, confused the whole,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of people round, and then that cry,</div>
<div class="verse">“Your alms, for prayers to rest the soul</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of him condemn’d to die!”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Or fancies now that he is free;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And breathes the fresh pure air, and hears</div>
<div class="verse">Her sigh of love, the maid whom he</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Had loved in happier years:</div>
<div class="verse">Beauteous and kind as e’er of old,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Sweet flower of spring-time’s gay resort,</div>
<div class="verse">As could for love the meads behold,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or gallant April court.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And joyful he to see her flies,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">And seeks to reach her, but in vain;</div>
<div class="verse">For as with anxious hands he tries</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His hoped-for bliss to gain,</div>
<div class="verse">The illusion suddenly to break,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">He finds the dream deceitful fled!</div>
<div class="verse">A cold stiff corpse the shape to take,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And scaffold in its stead.</div>
<div class="verse">And hears the mournful funeral knoll,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And hollow voice resounding nigh,</div>
<div class="verse">“Your alms, for prayers to rest the soul</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of him condemn’d to die!”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h4>THE SONG OF THE PIRATE.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The breeze fair aft, all sails on high,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Ten guns on each side mounted seen,</div>
<div class="verse">She does not cut the sea, but fly,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A swiftly sailing brigantine;</div>
<div class="verse">A pirate bark, the ‘Dreaded’ named,</div>
<div class="verse">For her surpassing boldness famed,</div>
<div class="verse">On every sea well known and shore,</div>
<div class="verse">From side to side their boundaries o’er.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The moon in streaks the waves illumes;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Hoarse groans the wind the rigging through;</div>
<div class="verse">In gentle motion raised assumes</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The sea a silvery shade with blue;</div>
<div class="verse">While singing gaily on the poop,</div>
<div class="verse">The pirate Captain, in a group,</div>
<div class="verse">Sees Europe here, there Asia lies,</div>
<div class="verse">And Stamboul in the front arise.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Sail on, my swift one! nothing fear;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Nor calm, nor storm, nor foeman’s force</div>
<div class="verse">Shall make thee yield in thy career,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or turn thee from thy course.</div>
<div class="verse">Despite the English cruisers fleet</div>
<div class="verse indent1">We have full twenty prizes made;</div>
<div class="verse">And see their flags beneath my feet</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A hundred nations laid.</div>
<div class="verse">My treasure is my gallant bark,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My only god is liberty;</div>
<div class="verse">My law is might, the wind my mark,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My country is the sea.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">There blindly kings fierce wars maintain,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For palms of land, when here I hold</div>
<div class="verse">As mine, whose power no laws restrain,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Whate’er the seas infold.</div>
<div class="verse">Nor is there shore around whate’er,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or banner proud, but of my might</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Is taught the valorous proofs to bear,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And made to feel my right.</div>
<div class="verse">My treasure is my gallant bark,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My only god is liberty;</div>
<div class="verse">My law is might, the wind my mark,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My country is the sea.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Look when a ship our signals ring,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Full sail to fly how quick she’s veer’d!</div>
<div class="verse">For of the sea I am the king,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My fury’s to be fear’d;</div>
<div class="verse">But equally with all I share</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Whate’er the wealth we take supplies;</div>
<div class="verse">I only seek the matchless fair</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My portion of the prize.</div>
<div class="verse">My treasure is my gallant bark,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My only god is liberty;</div>
<div class="verse">My law is might, the wind my mark,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My country is the sea.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I am condemn’d to die! I laugh;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For, if my fates are kindly sped,</div>
<div class="verse">My doomer from his own ship’s staff</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Perhaps I’ll hang instead.</div>
<div class="verse">And if I fall, why what is life?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For lost I gave it then as due,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span>
<div class="verse">When from slavery’s yoke in strife</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A rover I withdrew.</div>
<div class="verse">My treasure is my gallant bark,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My only god is liberty;</div>
<div class="verse">My law is might, the wind my mark,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My country is the sea.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">My music is the north wind’s roar,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The noise when round the cable runs,</div>
<div class="verse">The bellowings of the Black Sea’s shore,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And rolling of my guns.</div>
<div class="verse">And as the thunders loudly sound,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And furious as the tempests rave,</div>
<div class="verse">I calmly rest in sleep profound,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">So rock’d upon the wave.</div>
<div class="verse">My treasure is my gallant bark,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My only god is liberty;</div>
<div class="verse">My law is might, the wind my mark,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My country is the sea.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span></p>
<h4>TO HARIFA, IN AN ORGY.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thy hand, Harifa! bring it me;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Come near, and place it on my brow;</div>
<div class="verse">As on some lava’s boiling sea</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I feel my head is burning now.</div>
<div class="verse">Come, bring with mine thy lips to meet,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Though they but madden me astray,</div>
<div class="verse">Where yet I find the kisses beat,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">There left thy loves of yesterday.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">What is virtue, what is joy,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or love, or purity, or truth?</div>
<div class="verse">The false illusions of a boy,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The cherish’d flatteries of my youth.</div>
<div class="verse">Then bring me wine; there let me try</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Remembrance drown’d to hold repress’d,</div>
<div class="verse">Without a pang from life to fly;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In frenzy death may give me rest.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O’erspreads my face a burning flood,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And red and glaring wildly start</div>
<div class="verse">My eyes forth out in heated blood,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And forth leaps restlessly my heart.</div>
<div class="verse">Woman! I hate thee; fly thee—go:</div>
<div class="verse indent1">I feel thy hands my hands infold,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span>
<div class="verse">And feel them freezing, cold as snow,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">As snow thy kisses are as cold.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Ever the same, try, tempters weak!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Other endearments to enthral;</div>
<div class="verse">Another world, new pleasures seek,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For such your joys I curse them all.</div>
<div class="verse">Your kisses are a lie; a cheat</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Is all the tenderness you feign;</div>
<div class="verse">Your beauty ugly in deceit,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The enjoyment suffering and pain.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I wish for love, ethereal, high,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For some diviner joy my lot;</div>
<div class="verse">For such my heart will imaged sigh,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For such as in the world is not.</div>
<div class="verse">And ’tis that meteor light afar,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The phantom that deceived my mind,</div>
<div class="verse">The treacherous guide, the vapour star,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That leads me wandering and blind.</div>
</div>
<div class="hr"></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Why is my soul for pleasure dead,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And yet alive to grief and care?</div>
<div class="verse">Why doom’d in listless stupor laid</div>
<div class="verse indent1">This arid loathing still to bear?</div>
<div class="verse">Why this consuming wild desire,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">This restless passion vague and strange?</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span>
<div class="verse">That well I know I rave, ’tis fire,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Yet plunge in its deceitful range.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Why do I dream of love and joy,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That I am sure a lie will prove?</div>
<div class="verse">Why where fantastic charms decoy,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Will thus my heart delirious move,</div>
<div class="verse">If soon it finds for meads and flowers,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But arid wastes and tangled thorns,</div>
<div class="verse">And soon a loathing rage o’erpowers</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The mad or mournful love it scorns?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Flung as a rapid comet wide,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On ardent fancy’s wings I flew,</div>
<div class="verse">Where’er my wayward mind espied</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or joys or triumphs to pursue.</div>
<div class="verse">I launch’d myself, in daring flight,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Beyond the world through heavenward space,</div>
<div class="verse">And found but doubt, and all so bright</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That seem’d, illusive proved the chase.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Then on the earth I anxious sought</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For virtue, glory, love sublime;</div>
<div class="verse">And my worn spirit found there nought</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But fetid dust and loathsome slime.</div>
<div class="verse">Mid clouds with heavenly hues o’ercast</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Women of virgin lustre shone;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span>
<div class="verse">I saw, I touched them, and they pass’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And smoke and ashes left alone.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I found the illusion fled; but rife,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Unquench’d desires their longings crave;</div>
<div class="verse">I felt the real, I hated life,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And peace believed but in the grave.</div>
<div class="verse">And yet I seek, and anxious seek,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">For pleasures still I ask and sigh,</div>
<div class="verse">And hear dread accents answering speak,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">“Unhappy one! despair, and die.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“Die: Life is torment, joy a cheat,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Hope not for good on earth for thee,</div>
<div class="verse">But fruitless struggles look to meet</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In thy vain longings endlessly!</div>
<div class="verse">For so God punishes the soul</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That in its madness dares espy</div>
<div class="verse">The unfathom’d secrets of the scroll</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of truth, denied to mortal eye!”</div>
</div>
<div class="hr"></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O! cease: no more I ask to know,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">No more to see: my soul oppress’d</div>
<div class="verse">Is humbly bow’d, and prostrate low,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Now only asks, and longs for rest.</div>
<div class="verse">In me let feeling then lie dead,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Since died my hopes of happiness,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Nor joys nor griefs be o’er me spread</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My soul returning to depress.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Pass, as in magic optic glass,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And other youthful hearts deceive,</div>
<div class="verse">Bright images of glory! pass,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That crowns of gold and laurel weave.</div>
<div class="verse">Pass, ye voluptuous fair ones, on!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With dance and mirthful songs attuned,</div>
<div class="verse">Like vaporous visions, pass, begone!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">No more my heart to move or wound.</div>
<div class="verse">And let the dance, and festal din,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">O’er my revolted fancy reign,</div>
<div class="verse">And fled the night, see morn begin,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Surprised in senseless stupor’s chain.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Harifa, come! Like me this woe</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thou too hast borne! Thou ne’er dost weep!</div>
<div class="verse">But, ah! how wretched ’tis to know</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Feelings so bitter and so deep!</div>
<div class="verse">The same our sufferings and care;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In vain thou hold’st thy tears apart;</div>
<div class="verse">Like me thou also hast to bear</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A wounded and an aching heart!</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="XII">XII.<br />
<span class="smaller">JOSÈ ZORRILLA.</span></h3>
<p>It has been said that “the life of a poet is ever a romance.”
Perhaps this observation may apply equally well to the history
of every man of ardent genius who enters with characteristic
enthusiasm into the affairs of life, so as to invest even ordinary
circumstances with the glow and hue of his own excited imagination.
But this is more especially the case with poets who
make us participate in their feelings, their joys or their sorrows,
so as to give a character of romance to incidents that
with other persons would have passed away as unnoticed.
In the course of the preceding narratives, no doubt, many instances
may be remembered to verify this remark, and the
life of the eminent and deservedly popular poet with which
we have to close the series, even in his yet youthful career,
may be found to afford a further exemplification of it.</p>
<p>On the 14th February, 1837, a funeral car, over which
was placed a crown of laurel, had to traverse the streets of
Madrid, bearing to their resting-place in the cemetery, the
remains of the talented but wrong-minded Larra. The car
was followed by an immense concourse of mourners, principally
young men of the first classes of Madrid, who were so
testifying their regret for the loss they had sustained. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span>
whole scene presented a spectacle of homage paid to genius,
such as had seldom been witnessed. It was such as power
might have envied, and as worth scarcely ever attained. Melancholy
as had been the end of the unhappy being they
mourned, envy and hatred had become silenced, morality and
charity joined in regret, and no one disputed the propriety of
the funeral honours paid to the dead.</p>
<p>It was already late when the ceremonies were concluded,
and the darkening shadows of the night, in such a place and
on such an occasion, gave the countenances of all assembled
an extraordinary character. The shock they had felt, to lose
so suddenly from among them one so well-known to them
all, in the fulness of youth and intellect, in the height of
fame and popularity, without any apparent motive and enveloped
in mystery, was of itself sufficient to penetrate their
minds with sorrow. They felt that a bright light had been
extinguished, and they feared there was no hope of another
arising to shine in its place. A strange spell seemed to
have come over the bystanders, and they lingered round the
vault with an unaccountable disinclination to separate.</p>
<p>The eloquent Señor Roca de Togares, distinguished both
as an orator and a poet, pronounced a discourse he had
hastily prepared, in which he portrayed the general sensation
of sorrow, as he eulogized the talents and the principal
literary successes of the deceased. But his eloquence had
only the effect of exciting still further the prevalent feeling,
which was that of something still more appropriate being required
to give expression to their grief, and they instinctively
looked round for some one to give utterance to it in the language
of mournful inspiration with which to take their final
farewell.</p>
<p>At that m<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span>oment, in the midst of, it may be supposed,
almost painful silence, a young man, unknown to them, of a
slight figure and boyish appearance, stood forward, and with
a tremulous voice began reading some verses in unison with
their feelings, which at the first accents seemed to seize irresistibly
on the minds of the listeners. He was himself so
much affected by the scene, and perhaps under the sense of
his own temerity, that he could not finish his task, and Roca
de Togares took the paper out of his hands and read the
verses again audibly. Had they been possessed of only ordinary
merit, they would no doubt, on such an occasion, have
been favourably received; but expressed as they were in
highly poetical language, with appropriate sentiments, the
effect was to excite the utmost astonishment and admiration.
The author’s name, Josè Zorrilla, was eagerly called for and
repeated on all sides with loud applauses, and they who had
followed sorrowfully shortly before the remains of the man of
genius they had lost, now returned to the city attending in
triumph another poet they had found, with all the tokens of
enthusiastic rejoicing. The young poet, on his part, had
found an audience ready to welcome him, and he was at once
launched forth into that “tide in the affairs of men which
taken at the flood leads on to fortune.”</p>
<p>The history of the new aspirant for fame was now an object
of interest, and the public learned that he was the son of
Don Josè Zorrilla, a person well known as an eminent lawyer
who had held several judicial offices with credit in Spain. It
was while holding one of those offices, in Valladolid, that his
son, the subject of this narrative, was born there, the 21st of
February, 1817. From Valladolid, the father having been
promoted to other duties in Burgos, Seville, and finally at
Madrid, the son followed him, and received his primary education
in the various cities they inhabited, under circumstances
which must have operated powerfully on his mind.
On arriving at Madrid he was placed at the Seminary of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span>
Nobles, where he remained six years, thus giving that celebrated
institution the just merit of claiming him, as well as
so many others of the ablest writers and public men of Spain,
among those they had educated. There he seems to have
gone through his course of studies without apparently other
distinction than an early inclination to write verses and attend
the theatres, which predilection his tutors disapproved,
but in consideration of his father’s position passed over more
leniently than they otherwise would have done. This indulgence,
however, there is no doubt gave that decided turn to
his mind which led to his subsequent career.</p>
<p>On leaving the Seminary, Zorrilla had to go to his father
at his estate in the province of Castille, where he now lived
in retirement, having lost the favour of the government.
There soon a discordance rose between them as to his future
course in life. The father wished him to graduate in the
profession of the law, in which he had acquired wealth and
fame, and sent him, notwithstanding his repugnance, to Toledo,
to study in the university of that city. He passed accordingly
a year there, but with only sufficient application to
go through the ordinary routine respectably. Other studies,
more congenial to his taste, engaged all his thoughts. Toledo
is a city rich in historical and poetical remembrances
and legends. Its monuments and ruins are among the most
interesting that exist in Spain, and in the contemplation of
these Zorrilla was constantly absorbed. To Toledo he owed
his poetical education, as to it he has dedicated some of his
sweetest poetry. He shunned the society of his fellow-students,
and seemed to pass an eccentric and even mysterious
life. Out no one knew where, at strange hours, disregarding
the university rules and dress and etiquette, allowing his
hair to grow long over his shoulders, and composing songs, not
to the taste of his tutors, he was considered half-mad, an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span>d his
father was informed of his strange conduct as not amenable
to study and discipline. On going home for the vacation,
his father therefore received him with coldness and displeasure,
and made him read law with him, notwithstanding his
continued disinclination to it, though in secret he made
amends for the restraint by indulging in reading more agreeable
to himself. It is recorded more especially that he then
studied the Sacred Scriptures, in whose pages he found the
truest inspiration of poetry, as he certainly seems in his
writings generally to have imbibed the purest principles of
morality and religion.</p>
<p>In the hope of his entering on a more diligent course of
study at another place than Toledo, Zorrilla was then sent to
Valladolid, as if by changing universities he could be expected
to change the tendency of mind which urged him to his
destiny. There he was watched on all sides by his father’s
directions, and it was reported to him that his son still continued
his former course of conduct; that instead of passing
his hours in study, he was ever out on lonely walks, lying
under the shade of trees by the side of the river or the broken
rock, absorbed in his own meditations. There is a hint also
given, of even the discovery that he had found some dream
of youthful love to indulge in, as if it were something extraordinary
for one of his age and enthusiastic character. The
father must have been one of the class that Chateaubriand
suffered under, or Mirabeau; and happy it was for Zorrilla
that he did not sink into the recklessness of the one or the
inanities of the other, while he had also to submit to similar
discouragements. As it was, the father came to the conclusion
that no hope was to be entertained of his son’s application
to study, to take that position in the world which he had
planned out for him, and in which were centred all his own
ideas of honourable activity. He therefore resolved to ta<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span>ke
him from Valladolid, and sent a trusty messenger to bring
him home.</p>
<p>On the way the messenger gave Zorrilla to understand
that his father had resolved to employ him on his estate, to
dress the vines and perform other labours of country occupation.
It seems the father had even talked about fitting him
out in a labourer’s working garb, as not being calculated for
nobler employment, while he himself was unconscious or careless
of the wonderful power of mind which lay hid from his
observation in the son’s apparent inability to fulfil his expectations.
On this intimation, however, Zorrilla at once formed
his determination. Shortly before reaching home, he stayed
at the house of a relative, where he collected together the few
valuable things he could carry away, and appropriating to his
necessity a horse belonging to his cousin, he hastened back
to Valladolid. There he was fortunate enough to arrive and
sell the horse before the messenger sent after him again
could arrest him on his flight. He then transferred himself
without loss of time to Madrid, where for a length of time
he succeeded in escaping the vigilant search made for him
by his friends, who not having seen him since he was a boy,
were not able now to penetrate his disguise.</p>
<p>At Madrid under these circumstances, a fugitive from his
father’s house, he had now passed almost a year, when he
came forth before the public, as we have narrated, on the
occasion of Larra’s funeral. How he had passed those months
we are not informed further, than that he had to submit to
every kind of annoyances and privations, which he surmounted
by the firmness of his determination and the elevated character
of his hopes. He had in the interval sent several
pieces of poetry to the different periodicals, by which his
name had already become sufficiently known to a number of
those who hailed him on the 14th February as supplying the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span>
place of the popular writer they had lost.</p>
<p>On the following day, Zorrilla could say, like Lord Byron,
that he awoke and found himself famous. The verses on
Larra were in every one’s mouth, and all others that could be
obtained of his writing were eagerly collected. Editors and
proprietors of periodicals were anxious to obtain his cooperation
for their works, and his period of difficulties had passed
away. Before the year closed, the first volume of his poems
appeared with an introduction by Pastor Diaz, and that was
so eagerly bought that he was induced to bring out others in
succession, with a prolificness unknown almost even in Spain.
Seven other closely printed volumes of his poems were published,
including several plays, within about three years afterwards,
and eight or nine other volumes have appeared since.
His works have been reprinted in Paris and in various parts
of Spanish America, and received everywhere with unbounded
admiration, so as at once to prove him one of the most
favourite poets that Spain has produced.</p>
<p>While he was thus rising to fame and competence, his
father, on the other hand, had fallen into misfortune. A high
prerogative lawyer, he had maintained the doctrines of absolutism,
and at length openly espoused the cause of Don
Carlos. On the failure of this prince’s attempts to gain the
throne, the elder Zorrilla, with other adherents, was proscribed
and had his property confiscated. His son had not
heard from him after this event for some years, when he received
a letter from his father from Bayonne, stating that he
was in difficulties, and requesting him to apply to a former
friend, whom he named, for a loan for his assistance. Zorrilla
wrote back to say that there was no occasion to incur an
obligation from one not related to him, and that he himself
was happy to have it in his power to send him the sum required,
which he would repeat at stated intervals. This he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span>
accordingly did, until he received his father’s directions to
discontinue it, as not requiring it any more.</p>
<p>Another instance of Zorrilla’s high-mindedness and true
Castilian pride has been recorded. On his father’s property
having been sequestrated by the government, it was intimated
to him that if he applied he might have the administration
of it, which was tantamount to giving him possession of it.
But he replied that he would neither apply for it nor accept
it, for while his father lived, he could acknowledge
no one else as entitled to it. His father having since died,
Zorrilla has come by law into possession of his estates, and
has thus had the rare fortune, for a poet, to be possessed of
considerable wealth. He has had several offers of appointments
from the government, but he has declined them, contented
to live according to his own fancies and occupied with
his own peculiar pursuits. His extraordinary facility for
composing verses is such as scarcely to allow his compositions
to be termed studies; but with them and his attendances at
the theatre, and other recreations, or at literary reunions,
he is said to pass away his hours in ease and contentment.
The first volume of his poems, it has been already intimated,
was published before he was twenty-one years of age. Within
three years afterwards seven others were published; and in
the eighth, to the poem of ‘The Duke and the Sculptor,’ was
appended the following note to his wife:—“Dedicated to the
Señora Matilda O’Reilly de Zorrilla. I began the publication
of my poems with our acquaintance, and I conclude them
with thy name. Madrid, 10 October, 1840.”</p>
<p>What were the circumstances attending this acquaintance
or union, we are not informed; but it is fortunate for the
world that the intimation it might convey of its being the
conclusion of his literary works has not been fulfilled. Since
then he has published ‘Songs of the Troubadour,’ in three<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span>
volumes, and other minor poems and plays separately. A
larger work he meditated on the conquest of Granada, to be
entitled ‘The Cross and the Crescent,’ has not been completed;
and another he projected with the title ‘Maria,’ intending
to celebrate the different characters under which the
Holy Virgin is venerated in Roman Catholic countries, he has
published, with the greater part supplied by a friend, all very
inferior to what might have been expected from him.</p>
<p>It is much to be regretted that Zorrilla has in all his works
allowed carelessnesses to prevail, which too often mar the
effect of his verses, and still more that he has often inserted
some that were of very inferior merit compared with the rest.
It is not to be supposed that an author can be equally sustained
in all his productions, but it is somewhat extraordinary
in his volumes to find some poems of such transcendent merit,
and others so inferior. These, however, are very few, and
probably were hastily composed and hastily published, to
supply the demand arising for the day. He is probably the
only author in Spain who has profited by the sale of his
writings to any extent, and to do this he must have been
often under the necessity of tasking his mind severely, without
regard to its spontaneous suggestions. Thus then, when
he found his inspiration failing, he has often had recourse to
memory, and repeated from himself, and even from others,
verses previously published. It is to be hoped that he may
be induced soon to give the world a revised edition of his
works, in which the oversights may be corrected, and the
poems unworthy of his fame may be omitted.</p>
<p>On reading over dispassionately the ‘Lines to Larra,’ by
which he was first brought so prominently into notice, it
may occasion some surprise to learn they had produced so
remarkable an effect. If they had previously been read over
alone to any one of the auditors, he probably might not <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span>have
considered them so ideal, so beautiful, or so original as they
seemed at the public recital. Some phrase might have appeared
incomprehensible, some sentiment exaggerated or not
true; some expression or line, hard or weak or forced. He
might have observed a want of order or connection in the
ideas, or the whole to be vague and leaving no fixed thought
in the mind; or he might have pronounced them, as they
have been since pronounced, an imitation of Victor Hugo or
Lamartine. But to the auditors assembled, in the excited
state of their feelings, there was no time for reflection or criticism.
It was a composition of the hour for that particular
scene,—for themselves, in language and feelings with which
they could sympathize. Thus the verses seized on their
minds and electrified them, so that they had no time to
dwell on any discussion or dispute of their merits, but yielded
at once to the fascination of the melodious verse they heard,
and the appropriate application of the homage they testified.</p>
<p>In the first volume of poems that Zorrilla published, containing
his earliest productions, are to be found all the selections
made for translation in this work. They may not be
so highly finished as some afterwards published, nor so
marked by that distinctive character he has made his own;
but they show the first promises of the fruit that was in
store, to be afterwards brought to such maturity. As he had
scarcely emerged from boyhood when he began to tread the
path to fame, his first steps could scarcely fail to betray that
sort of uncertainty which attends on all who are going on an
unknown road. Thus then through the volume he appears
to be seeking a ground whereon to fix his energies and build
the temple for his future fame, without being able confidently
to fix on any place in preference. His poetry from the first,
always sonorous and easy, often evidently spontaneous and
true to nature, at times is weak and deficient in the depth o<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span>f
thought that at other times distinguishes it, especially in the
compositions of a philosophic cast, which require fuller age
and reflection to give them with perfectness. Subject to these
remarks, independently of the poems hereafter given in the
translations, there are others, ‘To Toledo,’ ‘The Statue of
Cervantes,’ ‘The Winter Night,’ more clearly portraying the
peculiar character of his poetry as afterwards developed.</p>
<p>In the second volume published about six months afterwards,
he seems already to have taken his ground and to proceed
with a more decided step. The poem, ‘The Day without
Sun,’ is full of poetic vigour and richness of description,
and several tales of greater length and legendary character
show the bent of his mind and the direction it was in future
to take. In the third volume it was reserved for his genius
to be fully developed. It opens with a magnificent composition,
‘To Rome,’ in which deep philosophy and reflection are
combined with exquisite description, all so clear and distinct
as fully to captivate the mind and leave an impression of
complete satisfaction. But beyond this it contains the poem
‘To the last Moorish King of Granada, Boabdil the Little,’
which is generally considered his best. He was already recognized
as an admirable descriptive poet, but he now proved
his power of moving the inmost feelings to be as great as his
power of imagination. It is undoubtedly a splendid composition
and highly finished, so as to be well worthy of study
for the Spanish reader, though too long for translation for
this work. The same volume contains another poem, also
worthy of mention, ‘To a Skull,’ as written with much force
and effect, but in the style of the French imitators of Byron,
whom Zorrilla has too much copied, though it must be stated
without their affectation and exaggerations.</p>
<p>In the following volumes he continues the co<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span>urse now so
markedly his own as a national poet. He avowedly chooses,
as becoming him in that character, subjects taken from the
traditions and legends current in Spain, and clothing them
in glowing language reproduces them to his delighted readers
as the dreams and remembrances of their youth. He is
especially partial to the tales connected with the Moorish
wars, and in so doing, with great poetic effect, always represents
the Moors in the most favourable light. Thus he
throughout makes them worthy rivals of the Christians, and
thereby renders greater the merit of the conquerors. The
richness of his diction is truly extraordinary, often so as to
make us lose sight of the paucity of ideas contained in his
poems, and that those again are too much the same repeated
constantly over.</p>
<p>If it was a wonderful and admirable triumph for one so
young to achieve by one bound the unqualified commendations
of his countrymen, and to sustain the success then acquired
by subsequent efforts, we have still to regret that
there were evils attending that precocity to prevent his attaining
apparently the highest excellence. Perhaps there is
no one we can point out as so truly exemplifying the maxim
“poeta nascitur.” He was truly born a poet; and though
he often writes showing that he had been reading Calderon or
some other of the elder writers of Spain, or even some of the
French poets, yet he always gives the colouring of his own
mind to those imitations so as to make them his own. This
often again leads him to a mannerism and repetition of himself;
but notwithstanding these faults or occasional errors of
carelessness, his compositions always remain uniformly and
irresistibly captivating.</p>
<p>Besides his poems, Zorrilla has published upwards of twenty
dramatic pieces, some of which have been repeatedly produced
on the stage with the fullest success. They are all remarkable
for the richness of versification and high tone of poetry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span>
which distinguish his lyrical compositions, and, like them, all
tend to honour and promote the chivalrous spirit for which
the Spanish nation has ever been renowned.</p>
<p>The modern poetry of Spain shows that her nationality is
still as distinct, her genius as elevated, and her sense of
honour as pure, as in any former period of her history. It
shows itself in unison with the spirit that has always animated
the people in their public conduct, in their loyalty and
devotion, the same now as a thousand years since, making
every hill a fortress and every plain a battle-field, to dispute
the ground at every foot with the enemy till they were
driven from their soil. The poets of Spain have still, as ever,
the most stirring tasks before them, to commemorate the
glories of their romantic country, and they are worthy of
their task.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span></p>
<h3>JOSÈ ZORRILLA.</h3>
<h4>THE CHRISTIAN LADY AND THE MOOR.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Hastening to Granada’s gates,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Came o’er the Vega’s land,</div>
<div class="verse">Some forty Gomel horsemen,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And the Captain of the band.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">He, entering in the city,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Check’d his white steed’s career;</div>
<div class="verse">And to a lady on his arm,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Borne weeping many a tear,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Said, “Cease your tears, fair Christian,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That grief afflicting me,</div>
<div class="verse">I have a second Eden,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Sultana, here for thee.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“A palace in Granada,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With gardens and with flowers,</div>
<div class="verse">And a gilded fountain playing</div>
<div class="verse indent1">More than a hundred showers.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“And in the Henil’s valley</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">I have a fortress gray,</div>
<div class="verse">To be among a thousand queen</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Beneath thy beauty’s sway.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“For over all yon winding shore</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Extends my wide domain,</div>
<div class="verse">Nor Cordova’s, nor Seville’s lands,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A park like mine contain.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“There towers the lofty palm-tree,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The pomegranate’s glowing there,</div>
<div class="verse">And the leafy fig-tree, spreading</div>
<div class="verse indent1">O’er hill and valley fair.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“There grows the hardy walnut,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The yellow nopal tall,</div>
<div class="verse">And mulberry darkly shading</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Beneath the castle wall;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“And elms I have in my arcades</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That to the skies aspire,</div>
<div class="verse">And singing birds in cages</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of silk, and silver wire.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“And thou shalt my Sultana be,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My halls alone to cheer;</div>
<div class="verse">My harem without other fair,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Without sweet songs my ear.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“And velvets I will give thee,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">And eastern rich perfumes,</div>
<div class="verse">From Greece I’ll bring thee choicest veils,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And shawls from Cashmere’s looms:</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“And I will give thee feathers white,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To deck thy beauteous brow,</div>
<div class="verse">Whiter than ev’n the ocean foam</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Our eastern waters know.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“And pearls to twine amid thy hair,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Cool baths when heat’s above,</div>
<div class="verse">And gold and jewels for thy neck,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And for thy lips be—love!”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“O! what avail those riches all,”</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Replied the Christian fair,</div>
<div class="verse">“If from my father and my friends,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My ladies, me you tear?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“Restore me, O! restore me, Moor,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To my father’s land, my own;</div>
<div class="verse">To me more dear are Leon’s towers</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Than thy Granada’s throne.”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Smoothing his beard, awhile the Moor</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In silence heard her speak;</div>
<div class="verse">Then said as one who deeply thinks,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With a tear upon his cheek,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“If better seem thy castles there</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Than here our gardens shine,</div>
<div class="verse">And thy flowers are more beautiful,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Because in Leon thine;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“And thou hast given thy youthful love</div>
<div class="verse indent1">One of thy warriors there,</div>
<div class="verse">Houri of Eden! weep no more,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">But to thy knights repair!”</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Then giving her his chosen steed,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And half his lordly train,</div>
<div class="verse">The Moorish chieftain turn’d him back</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In silence home again.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h4>ROMANCE. THE WAKING.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">No sound is in the midnight air,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">No colour in its shade,</div>
<div class="verse">The old are resting free from care,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Duenna’s voice is stay’d;</div>
<div class="verse">But when all else in slumber meet,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">We two are waking nigh,</div>
<div class="verse">She on the grated window’s seat,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And at its foot am I.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I cannot see her beaming eyes,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Nor her clear brow above,</div>
<div class="verse">Nor her face with its rosy dyes,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Nor yet her smile of love:</div>
<div class="verse">I cannot see the virgin flush</div>
<div class="verse indent1">That heightens her cheek’s glow,</div>
<div class="verse">The enchantments of that maiden blush,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">She is but fifteen now.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Nor can my searching eyes behold</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her form scarce wrapp’d about;</div>
<div class="verse">Nor from the flowing garment’s fold</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her white foot peeping out;</div>
<div class="verse">As on some gentle river’s spring,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To glide the foam between,</div>
<div class="verse">Spread forth her snowy floatsome wing,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The stately swan is seen.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Nor can I see her white neck shine,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Or shoulders as they part;</div>
<div class="verse">Nor from her face can I divine</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Her restlessness of heart;</div>
<div class="verse">While like a guard, too watchful o’er,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The grated bars I find;</div>
<div class="verse">Audacious love is there before,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Poor virtue is behind.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But in despite of that thick grate,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">And shades that round us twine,</div>
<div class="verse">I have, my dove, to compensate,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My soul embathed in thine:</div>
<div class="verse">My lips of fire I hold impress’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On thine of roses free;</div>
<div class="verse">And well I feel there’s in that breast</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A heart that beats for me.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But see along the East arise</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The unwelcome god of day,</div>
<div class="verse">Enveloped in the humid skies,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The darkness drive away.</div>
<div class="verse">And when a maid has watch’d the night,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With gallant by her side,</div>
<div class="verse">The bright red dawn has too much light</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Its coming to abide!</div>
</div>
<div class="hr"></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The smiling morn is shedding round</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Its harmony and hues,</div>
<div class="verse">And fragrant odours o’er the ground</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The breezes soft diffuse:</div>
<div class="verse">Robbing the rose, the lily fair,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And cherish’d pinks they fly,</div>
<div class="verse">And leave upon the laurels there</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A murmur moaning by.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Murmurs the fountain’s freshening spring,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Beneath its crystal veil,</div>
<div class="verse">And the angelic turtles sing</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Their tender mournful tale;</div>
<div class="verse">The love-sick dove the morning light</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Drinks with enraptured throat,</div>
<div class="verse">Mixing the balmy air so bright</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With her unequal note.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Paces the while the noble youth</div>
<div class="verse indent1">The garden’s paths along,</div>
<div class="verse">And lowly sings, his soul to soothe,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">His love-inspiring song;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“O! soundless midnight hour, again</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Come with thy kindly shade,</div>
<div class="verse">When rest thy old from cares, and when</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Duenna’s voice is stay’d;</div>
<div class="verse">For then, while they in slumber meet,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">We two are waking nigh,</div>
<div class="verse">She on the grated window’s seat,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And at its foot am I.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span></p>
<h4>ORIENTAL ROMANCE,—BOABDIL.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Lady of the dark head-dress,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And monkish vest of purple hue,</div>
<div class="verse">Gladly would Boabdil give</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Granada for a kiss of you.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">He would give the best adventure</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of the bravest horseman tried,</div>
<div class="verse">And with all its verdant freshness</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A whole bank of Darro’s tide.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">He would give rich carpets, perfumes,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Armours of rare price and force,</div>
<div class="verse">And so much he values you,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A troop, ay, of his favourite horse.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“Because thine eyes are beautiful,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Because the morning’s blushing light</div>
<div class="verse">From them arises to the East,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And gilds the whole world bright.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“From thy lips smiles are flowing,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">From thy tongue gentle peace,</div>
<div class="verse">Light and aërial as the course</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of the purple morning’s breeze.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“O! lovely Nazarene, how choice!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">For an Eastern harem’s pride,</div>
<div class="verse">Those dark locks waving freely</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thy crystal neck beside.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“Upon a couch of velvet,</div>
<div class="verse">I n a cloud of perfumed air,</div>
<div class="verse">Wrapp’d in the white and flowing veil</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of Mahomet’s daughters fair.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“O, Lady! come to Cordova,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">There Sultana thou shalt be,</div>
<div class="verse">And the Sultan there, Sultana,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Shall be but a slave for thee.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">“Such riches he will give thee,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And such robes of Tunisine,</div>
<div class="verse">That thou wilt judge thy beauty,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">To repay him for them, mean.”</div>
</div>
<div class="hr"></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O! Lady of the dark head-dress!</div>
<div class="verse">That him a kiss of thee might bless,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Resign a realm Boabdil would!</div>
<div class="verse">But I for that, fair Christian, fain</div>
<div class="verse">Would give of heavens, and think it gain,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A thousand if I only could.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span></p>
<h4>THE CAPTIVE.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I go, fair Nazarene, tomorrow</div>
<div class="verse indent2">To queenly Cordova again;</div>
<div class="verse">Then thou, my song of love and sorrow</div>
<div class="verse indent2">To hear, no longer mayst complain,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Sung to the compass of my chain.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">When home the Christians shall return,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">In triumph o’er the Moorish foe,</div>
<div class="verse">My cruel destiny wouldst thou learn?</div>
<div class="verse indent2">The history of my loves to know,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">The blood upon their hands shall show.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Better it were at once to close,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">In this dark tower a captive here,</div>
<div class="verse">The life I suffer now of woes,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Than that today thou sett’st me clear;</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Alas! thou sell’st it very dear.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Adieu! tomorrow o’er, thy slave</div>
<div class="verse indent2">May never vex thy soul again,</div>
<div class="verse">But vain is all the hope it gave:</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Still must I bear the captive’s chain,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Thine eyes my prison still remain.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Fair Christian! baleful is my star;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent2">What values it this life to me,</div>
<div class="verse">If I must bear it from thee far?</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Nor in Granada’s bowers may be,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Nor, my fair Cordova, with thee?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Today’s bright sun to me will seem</div>
<div class="verse indent2">A lamp unseasonably by:</div>
<div class="verse">Daughter of Spain, thy beauties gleam</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Alone my sun and moon on high,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">The dawn and brightness of my sky.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Since then I lose thy light today,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Without that light I cannot live!</div>
<div class="verse">To Cordova I take my way;</div>
<div class="verse indent2">But in the doom my fortunes give,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Alas! ’tis death that I receive.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">A paradise and houri fair</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Has Mahomet promised we shall prove:</div>
<div class="verse">Aye, thou wilt be an angel there,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">And in that blissful realm above</div>
<div class="verse indent2">We meet again, and there to love.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span></p>
<h4>THE TOWER OF MUNION.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Dark-shadow’d giant! shame of proud Castille,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Castle without bridge, battlements or towers,</div>
<div class="verse">In whose wide halls now loathsome reptiles steal,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Where nobles once and warriors held their bowers!</div>
<div class="verse">Tell me, where are they? where thy tapestries gay,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thy hundred troubadours of lofty song?</div>
<div class="verse">Thy mouldering ruins in the vale decay,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thou humbled warrior! time has quell’d the strong:</div>
<div class="verse">Thy name and history to oblivion thrown,</div>
<div class="verse">The world forgets that there thou standst, Munion.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">To me thou art a spectre, shade of grief!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">With black remembrances my soul’s o’ercast;</div>
<div class="verse">To me thou art a palm with wither’d leaf,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Burnt by the lightning, bow’d beneath the blast.</div>
<div class="verse">I, wandering bard, proscribed perchance my doom</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In the bier’s dust nor name, nor glory know;</div>
<div class="verse">With useless toil my brow’s consumed in gloom;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Of her I loved, dark dwelling-place below,</div>
<div class="verse">Whom I was robb’d of, angel from above,</div>
<div class="verse">Cursed be thy name, thy soil, as was my love.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">There rest, aye, in thy loftiness,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">To shame the plain around,</div>
<div class="verse">Warderless castle, matron lone,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">In whom no beauty’s found.</div>
<div class="verse">At thee time laughs, thy towers o’erthrown,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Scorn’d by thy vassals, by thy Lord</div>
<div class="verse">Deserted, rest, black skeleton!</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Stain of the vale’s green sward.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Priestless hermitage of Castille,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">On thee no banners wave;</div>
<div class="verse">Unblazon’d gate, thy pointed vaults</div>
<div class="verse indent1">No more their weight can save:</div>
<div class="verse">Thou hast no soldier on thy heights,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">No echo in thy halls,</div>
<div class="verse">And rank weeds festering grow uncheck’d</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Beneath thy mouldering walls.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Chieftain dead in a foreign land,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Forgotten of thy race,</div>
<div class="verse">While storm-torn fragments from thy brow</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Are scatter’d o’er thy place;</div>
<div class="verse">And men pass careless at thy feet,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Nor seek thy tale to find;</div>
<div class="verse">Because thy history is not read,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thy name’s not in their mind.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">But thou hast one, who in a luckless hour</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Inscribed another’s name on thy worn stone:</div>
<div class="verse">’Twas I, and that my deep relentless shame</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Remains with thee alone.</div>
<div class="verse">When my lips named that name, they play’d me false;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">When my hands graved it, ’twas a like deceit;</div>
<div class="verse">Now it exists not; in time’s impious course</div>
<div class="verse indent1">’Twas swept beneath his feet.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent2">And that celestial name,</div>
<div class="verse indent3">To time at length a prey,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">A woman for my sin,</div>
<div class="verse indent3">For a seraph snatch’d away;</div>
<div class="verse indent2">The hurricane of life</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Has left me, loved one, worse</div>
<div class="verse indent2">For my eternal grief,</div>
<div class="verse indent3">In pledge as of a curse,</div>
<div class="verse">Thy name ne’er from my thoughts to part,</div>
<div class="verse">Nor thy love ever from my heart.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span></p>
<h4>THE WARNING.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Yesterday the morning’s light</div>
<div class="verse">Shone on thy window crystal bright,</div>
<div class="verse">And lightsome breezes floating there</div>
<div class="verse">Gave richest perfumes to the air,</div>
<div class="verse">Which the gay flowers had lent to them,</div>
<div class="verse">All scatter’d from the unequal stem.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The nightingale had bathed his wing</div>
<div class="verse">Beneath the neighbouring murmuring spring;</div>
<div class="verse">And birds, and flowers, and streamlets gay,</div>
<div class="verse">Seem’d to salute the new-born day;</div>
<div class="verse">And in requital of the light,</div>
<div class="verse">Their grateful harmony unite.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The sun was bright, the sky serene,</div>
<div class="verse">The garden fresh and pleasant seen;</div>
<div class="verse">Life was delight, and thou, sweet maid,</div>
<div class="verse">No blush of shame thy charms betray’d;</div>
<div class="verse">For innocence ruled o’er thy breast,</div>
<div class="verse">Alike thy waking and thy rest.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Maiden, or angel upon earth,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Thy laugh, and song of gentle mirth,</div>
<div class="verse">In heaven were surely heard; thine eyes</div>
<div class="verse">Were stars, and like sweet melodies</div>
<div class="verse">Thy wandering tones; thy breath perfume,</div>
<div class="verse">And dawn-like thy complexion’s bloom.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">As phantoms then thou didst not find</div>
<div class="verse">The hours pass heavy on thy mind,</div>
<div class="verse">A poet, under Love’s decree,</div>
<div class="verse">Sang melancholy songs to thee;</div>
<div class="verse">And of his griefs the voice they lend</div>
<div class="verse">Thou didst not, maiden, comprehend.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Poor maiden, now what change has come</div>
<div class="verse">O’er that glad brow and youthful bloom?</div>
<div class="verse">Forgotten flower, thy leaves are sere,</div>
<div class="verse">Thy fruitless blossoms dried appear;</div>
<div class="verse">Thy powerless stem all broken, low,</div>
<div class="verse">May to the sun no colours show.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O! dark-eyed maid of ill-starr’d birth,</div>
<div class="verse">Why camest thou on this evil earth?</div>
<div class="verse">Rose amid tangled briars born,</div>
<div class="verse">What waits thee from the world but scorn?</div>
<div class="verse">A blasting breath around thee, see,</div>
<div class="verse">Thy bloom is gone, who’ll ask for thee?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Return, my angel, to thy sphere,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Before the world shall see thee here:</div>
<div class="verse">The joys of earth are cursed and brief,</div>
<div class="verse">Buy them not with eternal grief!</div>
<div class="verse">Heaven is alone, my soul, secure</div>
<div class="verse">The mansion for an angel pure.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h4>MEDITATION.</h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Upon the obscure and lonely tomb,</div>
<div class="verse">Beneath the yellow evening’s gloom,</div>
<div class="verse">To offer up to Heaven I come,</div>
<div class="verse indent5">For her I loved, my prayer!</div>
<div class="verse">Upon the marble bow’d my head,</div>
<div class="verse">Around my knees the moist herbs spread,</div>
<div class="verse">The wild flowers bend beneath my tread,</div>
<div class="verse indent5">That deck the thicket there.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Far from the world, and pleasures vain,</div>
<div class="verse">From earth my frenzied thoughts to gain,</div>
<div class="verse">And read in characters yet plain</div>
<div class="verse indent5">Names of the long since past;</div>
<div class="verse">There by the gilded lamp alone,</div>
<div class="verse">That waves above the altar stone,</div>
<div class="verse">As by the wandering breezes moan,</div>
<div class="verse indent5">A light’s upon me cast.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Perchance some bird will pause its flight</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Upon the funeral cypress height,</div>
<div class="verse">Warbling the absence of the light,</div>
<div class="verse indent5">As sorrowing for its loss;</div>
<div class="verse">Or takes leave of the day’s bright power,</div>
<div class="verse">From the high window of the tower,</div>
<div class="verse">Or skims, where dark the cupolas lower,</div>
<div class="verse indent5">On the gigantic cross.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">With eyes immersed in tears, around</div>
<div class="verse">I watch it silent from the ground,</div>
<div class="verse">Until it startled flies the sound</div>
<div class="verse indent5">The harsh bolts creaking gave;</div>
<div class="verse">A funeral smile salutes me dread,</div>
<div class="verse">The only dweller with the dead,</div>
<div class="verse">Lends me a hard and rough hand, led</div>
<div class="verse indent5">To ope another grave.</div>
</div>
<div class="hr"></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Pardon, O God! the worldly thought,</div>
<div class="verse indent5">Nor mark it midst my prayer;</div>
<div class="verse">Grant it to pass, with evil fraught,</div>
<div class="verse">As die the river’s murmurings brought</div>
<div class="verse indent5">Upon the breezy air.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Why does a worldly image rise</div>
<div class="verse indent5">As if my prayer to stain?</div>
<div class="verse">Perchance in evil shadow’s guise,</div>
<div class="verse">Which may when by the morrow flies</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent5">Sign of a curse remain.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Why has my mind been doom’d to dream</div>
<div class="verse indent5">A phantom loveliness?</div>
<div class="verse">To see those charms transparent gleam,</div>
<div class="verse">That brow in tranquil light supreme,</div>
<div class="verse indent5">And neck’s peculiar grace?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Not heighten’d its enchantments shine</div>
<div class="verse indent5">By pomp or worldly glow;</div>
<div class="verse">I only see that form recline</div>
<div class="verse">In tears, before some sacred shrine,</div>
<div class="verse indent5">Or castle walls below.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Like a forgotten offering lone,</div>
<div class="verse indent5">In ruin’d temple laid;</div>
<div class="verse">Upon the carved and time-worn stone,</div>
<div class="verse">Where fell it by the rough wind thrown,</div>
<div class="verse indent5">So bent beneath the shade.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">With such a picture in my mind,</div>
<div class="verse indent5">Such name upon my ear,</div>
<div class="verse">Before my God the place to find,</div>
<div class="verse">Where the forgotten are consign’d,</div>
<div class="verse indent5">I come, and bow down here.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">With eyes all vaguely motionless,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent5">Perhaps my wanderings view</div>
<div class="verse">The dead, with horror and distress,</div>
<div class="verse">As, roused up in their resting-place,</div>
<div class="verse indent5">They look their dark walls through.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">’Twas not to muse I hither came</div>
<div class="verse indent5">Of nothingness my part;</div>
<div class="verse">Nor of my God, but of a name,</div>
<div class="verse">That deep in characters of flame</div>
<div class="verse indent5">Is written on my heart.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Pardon, O God! the worldly thought,</div>
<div class="verse indent5">Nor mark it midst my prayer;</div>
<div class="verse">Grant it to pass, with evil fraught,</div>
<div class="verse">As die the river’s murmurings brought</div>
<div class="verse indent5">Upon the breezy air.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span></p>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span></p>
<h2 id="NOTES">NOTES.</h2>
<h3 id="note1">1. <a href="#Page_3">Page 3.</a> “Gaspar Melchor de Jovellanos.”</h3>
<p>This name (pronounced Hovellianos) was formerly written as
two distinct names, Jove Llanos, as it is still by several members
of the family, one, an Advocate, at present at Madrid, and another
the Spanish Consul at Jamaica.</p>
<h3 id="note2">2. <a href="#Page_3">Page 3.</a> “An able and distinguished writer,” &c.</h3>
<p>Antonio Alcalà Galiano, author also of the able article in the
Foreign Quarterly Review on Jovellanos, afterwards mentioned.
He was born at Cadiz, in 1789, the son of a distinguished officer
in the Spanish navy, who was killed at Trafalgar. In his youth,
Alcalà Galiano studied the English language so assiduously as to
receive much benefit from his knowledge of it when he had to
take refuge in London, on the various political changes that took
place in Spain. He then wrote much for the Westminster and
Foreign Quarterly Reviews, as well as other publications, and was
subsequently named one of the Professors of Languages in the
London University. Having returned to Spain, on the death of
Ferdinand VII., he was appointed a Minister of State, with the
Señor Isturitz, and has held, at various times, several high offices
in the government. In the Cortes he was considered one of the
most able orators of his time, having been put on a rivalry with
Martinez de la Rosa and Argüelles. He has published a few
poems, and contributed several valuable papers for the different
learned societies of Madrid, besides having written much for the
periodicals, according to the continental system for public men
seeking to disseminate their opinions. His principal work as an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span>
author is a ‘History of Spain.’ Ferrer del Rio says of him, that
“he writes Spanish with an English idiom, and though he puts his
name to a history of Spain, it seems a translation from the language
of Byron.” Few foreigners have ever obtained so complete a knowledge
of the English language; in fact his writings in the several
reviews might be pointed out as compositions which would do
credit to our own best writers. As an instance of his knowledge
of the state of literature in England, we may quote a few observations
from an article bearing his name in the first number of the
Madrid Review. He says, “The Bible and the Plays of Shakespeare,
if they may be named together without profanation, are
the two works which have most influence on the thoughts of the
English;” adding, that “classical literature is there better cultivated
than in France, or at least cultivated with more profound
knowledge,” deducing the conclusion, “that the English drama
is consequently radically different from the French.”</p>
<h3 id="note3">3. <a href="#Page_11">Page 11.</a> “Bermudez, his biographer.”</h3>
<p>This industrious writer was born at Gijon, in 1749, and died at
Cadiz in 1829. He may be termed the Vasari of Spain, as the
historian of the artists of his country. His two biographical
works, the one on her painters, the other on her architects, are a
rich mine of materials. The former was published in six volumes
8vo, in 1800: the latter, in four volumes 4to, was almost the
last work on which he was engaged, and did not appear till 1829.
Besides these, he was the author of various other publications on
the principal edifices in Seville, and had completed a ‘History of
the Roman Antiquities in Spain;’ a ‘General History of Painting;’
a work on ‘Architecture,’ and other pieces, which yet remain unedited.
As a fellow-townsman, as well as an artist of considerable
genius, he was much assisted by Jovellanos, who, when Minister
of State, gave him a valuable appointment at Madrid under the
government. When that eminent individual fell, his friends had
to suffer also, and Cean Bermudez, deprived of his appointment,
had to return to Seville, where he instituted a school for dra<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span>wing.
It was no doubt under the feelings of regret, occasioned by the
reflection of having his friends involved in his misfortunes, that
Jovellanos wrote to him the Epistle selected for translation in this
work.</p>
<h3 id="note4">4. <a href="#Page_16">Page 16.</a> “Merit of first bringing into favour.”</h3>
<p>See Hermosilla, ‘Juicio Critico de los principales Poetas Españoles
de la ultima era,’ vol. i. p. 11.</p>
<h3 id="note5">5. <a href="#Page_18">Page 18.</a> “Epistle to Cean Bermudez.”</h3>
<p>From Works of Jovellanos, Mellado’s edition, vol. iv. p. 226.</p>
<h3 id="note6">6. <a href="#Page_30">Page 30.</a> “To Galatea’s Bird.”</h3>
<p>From the same, p. 369.</p>
<h3 id="note7">7. <a href="#Page_32">Page 32.</a> “To Enarda.—I.”</h3>
<p>From the same, p. 368. In submission to the recommendations
of several friends to give the original of at least part or the whole
of some one poem of each author, from whose works the translations
have been made, selections of such as the English students
of Spanish literature would probably most desire, are offered for
their comparison.</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Riñen me bella Enarda</div>
<div class="verse">Los mozos y los viejos,</div>
<div class="verse">Por que tal vez jugando</div>
<div class="verse">Te escribo dulces versos.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Debiera un magistrado</div>
<div class="verse">(Susurran) mas severo,</div>
<div class="verse">De las livianas Musas</div>
<div class="verse">Huir el vil comercio.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Que mal el tiempo gastas!</div>
<div class="verse">Predican otros,—pero</div>
<div class="verse">Por mas que todos riñan</div>
<div class="verse">Tengo de escribir versos.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Quiero loar de Enarda</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span>
<div class="verse">El peregrino ingenio</div>
<div class="verse">Al son de mi zampoña</div>
<div class="verse">Y en bien medidos metros.</div>
<div class="verse">Quiero de su hermosura</div>
<div class="verse">Encaramar al cielo</div>
<div class="verse">Las altas perfecciones;</div>
<div class="verse">De su semblante quiero</div>
<div class="verse">Cantar el dulce hechizo</div>
<div class="verse">Y con pincel maestro</div>
<div class="verse">Pintar su frente hermosa</div>
<div class="verse">Sus traviesos ojuelos,</div>
<div class="verse">El carmin de sus labios,</div>
<div class="verse">La nieve de su cuello;</div>
<div class="verse">Y vàyanse à la … al rollo</div>
<div class="verse">Los Catonianos ceños</div>
<div class="verse">Las frentes arrugadas</div>
<div class="verse">Y adustos sobrecejos,</div>
<div class="verse">Que Enarda serà siempre</div>
<div class="verse">Celebrada en mis versos.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h3 id="note8">8. <a href="#Page_33">Page 33.</a> “To Enarda.—II.”</h3>
<p>From Works of Jovellanos, vol. iv. p. 364.</p>
<h3 id="note9">9. <a href="#Page_46">Page 46.</a> “Epistle to Domingo de Iriarte.”</h3>
<p>From Works of Tomas Iriarte, 1805, vol. ii. p. 56.</p>
<p>Domingo Iriarte was subsequently much engaged in the diplomatic
service of Spain, and signed the treaty of peace with France
of 1795, as Plenipotentiary, along with the celebrated M. Barthélemy.</p>
<h3 id="note10">10. <a href="#Page_50">Page 50.</a> “But now the confines of,” &c.</h3>
<p>The following is the original of this passage:—</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse indent1">Mas ya dexar te miro</div>
<div class="verse">Los confines Germanos,</div>
<div class="verse">Y el polìtico giro</div>
<div class="verse">Seguir hasta los ùltimos Britanos.</div>
<div class="verse">Desde luego la corte populosa</div>
<div class="verse">Cuyas murallas baña</div>
<div class="verse">La corriente anchurosa</div>
<div class="verse">Del Tàmesis, la imàgen te presenta</div>
<div class="verse">De una nacion en todo bien extraña:</div>
<div class="verse">Nacion en otros siglos no opulenta,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Hoi feliz por su industria, y siempre esenta:</div>
<div class="verse">Nacion tan liberal como ambiciosa;</div>
<div class="verse">Flemàtica y activa;</div>
<div class="verse">Ingenua, pero adusta;</div>
<div class="verse">Humana, pero altiva;</div>
<div class="verse">Y en la causa que abraza, iniqua ó justa</div>
<div class="verse">Violenta defensora,</div>
<div class="verse">Del riesgo y del temor despreciadora.</div>
<div class="verse">Alli serà preciso que te asombres</div>
<div class="verse">De ver (qual no habràs visto en parte alguna)</div>
<div class="verse">Obrar y hablar con libertad los hombres.</div>
<div class="verse">Admiraràs la rapida fortuna</div>
<div class="verse">Que alli logra el valor y la eloqüencia,</div>
<div class="verse">Sin que ni el oro, ni la ilustre cuna</div>
<div class="verse">Roben el premio al mèrito y la ciencia.</div>
<div class="verse">Adverteràs el numeroso enxambre</div>
<div class="verse">De diligentes y habiles Isleños</div>
<div class="verse">Que han procurado, del comercio Dueños</div>
<div class="verse">No conocer la ociosidad ni el hambre;</div>
<div class="verse">Ocupados en ùtiles inventos</div>
<div class="verse">En fàbricas, caminos, arsenales,</div>
<div class="verse">Escuelas, academias, hospitales,</div>
<div class="verse">Libros, experimentos,</div>
<div class="verse">Y estudios de las Artes liberales.</div>
<div class="verse">Alli sabràs, en fin, à quanto alcanza</div>
<div class="verse">La sabia educacion, y el acertado</div>
<div class="verse">Mètodo de patriòtica enseñanza,</div>
<div class="verse">La privada ambicion bien dirigida</div>
<div class="verse">Al pùblico provecho del Estado;</div>
<div class="verse">La justa recompensa y acogida</div>
<div class="verse">En que fundan las Letras su esperanza,</div>
<div class="verse">Y el desvelo de un pròvido Gobierno</div>
<div class="verse">Que al bien aspira, y à un renombre eterno.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>This Epistle is addressed to his brother, as the reader may observe,
in the second person singular, which, in Spanish, has a tone
of more familiarity than in English, and understanding it so intended,
I have altered it, in the translation, into our colloquial
form of the second person plural.</p>
<p>The above extract is the same in his printed works of both editions;
but I have in my possession a collection of his manuscripts,
among which is a copy of this Epistle, with several variations, less
flattering to England. Had he lived to superintend the secon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span>d
edition, these variations might probably have been adopted in it.
They are not, however, of any material variance, but they seem to
me to show that his eulogium had not been favourably received in
some quarters, and that he had therefore thought it prudent to
soften it in preparing for another edition. The publisher of the
edition of 1805 does not seem to have been aware of these manuscripts,
nor indeed to have taken the trouble of doing more for
Iriarte’s memory than merely to reprint the first edition, without
even any biographical or critical notice of him or his writings, as
he might well have done, Iriarte having been then deceased fourteen
years.</p>
<p>For another eloquent and encomiastic description of English
usages and institutions, the student of Spanish literature would
do well to read a work, published in London in 1834, by the
Marques de Miraflores, ‘Apuntes historico-criticos para escribir
la Historia de la Revolucion de España.’ This distinguished
nobleman was born the 23rd December, 1792, at Madrid, and
succeeded to the honours and vast property of his ancient house
in 1809, on the death of his elder brother, during the campaign
of that year. He has been much engaged in public affairs, having
held various offices in the state. He has been twice Ambassador
to England; the last time, Ambassador Extraordinary on the coronation
of Her Majesty Queen Victoria. The Marques has written
several works on political subjects, of which the one above-mentioned
is particularly deserving of study.</p>
<h3 id="note11">11. <a href="#Page_52">Page 52.</a> “Saying as Seneca has said of yore.”</h3>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Stet quicumque volet potens</div>
<div class="verse">Aulæ culmine lubrico:</div>
<div class="verse">Me dulcis saturet quies.</div>
<div class="verse">Obscuro positus loco</div>
<div class="verse">Leni perfruar otio.</div>
<div class="verse">Nullis notus Quiritibus</div>
<div class="verse">Ætas per tacitum fluat.</div>
<div class="verse">Sic cum transierint mei</div>
<div class="verse">Nullo cum strepitu dies,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Plebeius moriar senex.</div>
<div class="verse">Illi mors gravis incubat</div>
<div class="verse">Qui notus nimis omnibus</div>
<div class="verse">Ignotus moritur sibi.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>Thyestes, Act II. The critical reader will observe, that the
translation into English has been made from the Spanish rather
than the Latin.</p>
<h3 id="note12">12. <a href="#Page_53">Page 53.</a> “Fables.”</h3>
<p>The Fables translated are numbered respectively III., VIII.,
XI., LIII. and LIV., in the original collection. The two
first, III. and VIII., having been given by Bouterwek as specimens
of Iriarte’s style, without any translation, I took them for
my first essays, and had already versified them, before finding
Roscoe had done the same also in his translation of Sismondi,
and it was subsequently to that I became aware of other similar
versions. Having, however, made those translations, I have, notwithstanding
the others, allowed them to remain in this work.
The fable of the Two Rabbits has been selected as particularly
noticed by Martinez de la Rosa, and the others almost without
cause of peculiar preference. The last one contains an old but
good lesson, which cannot be too frequently and earnestly repeated:—</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse indent3">Ego nec studium sine divite venâ</div>
<div class="verse">Nec rude quid prosit video ingenium, alterius sic</div>
<div class="verse">Altera poscit opem res et conjurat amicè.</div>
</div>
</div>
<h3 id="note13">13. <a href="#Page_64">Page 64.</a> “Iglesias and Gonzalez.”</h3>
<p>Diego Gonzalez was born at Ciudad Rodrigo in 1733, and died
at Madrid, 1794. Josè Iglesias de la Casa was born at Salamanca
in 1753, and died there in 1791. His poems were first published
seven years after his death, and have been several times reprinted.
The best edition is that of Barcelona, 1820, from which the one
of Paris, 1821, was taken. The poems of Gonzalez also were first
published after his death, and have been several times reprinted.
Both wrote very pleasing verses, and are deservedly popular in
Spain.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="note14">14. <a href="#Page_69">Page 69.</a> “It was for his detractors,” &c.</h3>
<p>Hermosilla, author of a work, ‘Juicio Critico de los principales
Poetas Españoles de la ultima era,’ published after his death,
Paris 1840, gives in it, as Mr. Ticknor pithily observes, “a criticism
of the poems of Melendez so severe that I find it difficult to
explain its motive;” at the same time that he gives “an unreasonably
laudatory criticism of L. Moratin’s works.” Hermosilla
appears to have been a man of considerable learning, but little
judgement. His criticisms are generally worthless, and the only
excuse for him, with regard to his book, is, that he did not publish
it. With regard to Melendez, taking every opportunity to depreciate
his merits, he is constantly found constrained to acknowledge
them, and sometimes even in contradiction to himself. Thus,
having several times intimated, as at p. 31, that the erotic effusions
of Melendez only were praiseworthy, he says, at p. 297,
when speaking of his Epistles, that they are “his best compositions;
thoughts, language, style, tone and versification, all in
general are good.” In another part he censures Melendez for
his poems addressed to different ladies, especially some to ‘Fanny,’
who appears to have been an Englishwoman; and yet those
epistles, addressed to her, on the death of her husband, are among
the purest and most elegant specimens that can be pointed out of
consolation to a mourner. It is but justice to his editor, Salva,
to say, that he has expressed his dissent from these criticisms,
though he thought proper to publish the work.</p>
<h3 id="note15">15. <a href="#Page_73">Page 73.</a> “The Duke de Frias.”</h3>
<p>This estimable nobleman, who died in 1850, was descended
from the Counts of Haro, one of the three great families of Spain.
He was the munificent friend of literary men, and in the case of
Melendez extended his protection to the dead, having taken much
personal trouble to have his remains removed from the common
burying-ground to a vault, where they might not afterwards be
disturbed. He also wrote verses occasionally, of which have <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[365]</a></span>been
preserved, by Del Rio, a ‘Sonnet to the Duke of Wellington,’ and
by Ochoa, an ‘Elegy on the Death of his Duchess,’ whose virtues
will be found hereafter commemorated by Martinez de la Rosa.</p>
<h3 id="note16">16. <a href="#Page_76">Page 76.</a> “Best edition, that by Salvà.”</h3>
<p>In taking the edition of 1820 for the text, Salvà, in his edition,
has exercised much judgement in giving some of the poems as
they were originally published, rather than as Melendez afterwards
had left them, weakened by over-correction.</p>
<p>Salvà was in early life distinguished for learning and study,
having been, when only twenty years of age, named Professor of
Greek in the University of Alcalà de Henares. On the French
invasion he returned to his native city Valencia, and engaged in
trade as a bookseller, in which occupation he continued in London,
when obliged to emigrate hither in 1823, in consequence of his
having joined in the political events of the times. He had been,
during those events, Deputy from Valencia, and Secretary to the
Cortes. In 1830 he transferred his house to Paris, where he continued
his pursuits, publishing many valuable works of his own
compilation, as a Grammar and Dictionary of the Spanish language,
as well as editing and superintending the publication of
many other standard works. He closed his useful life, in his
native city, in 1850.</p>
<h3 id="note17">17. <a href="#Page_77">Page 77.</a> “Juvenilities.”</h3>
<p>Works of Melendez, Salvà’s Edition, vol. i. p. 39.</p>
<p>This piece was also taken for translation from Bouterwek, when
first entering on a study of Spanish literature. From Bouterwek
it was copied by Sismondi, when borrowing, as he did largely,
from that compiler; but Mr. Roscoe has not given a translation
of this, as he probably found it difficult to do so satisfactorily. It
is in fact almost as difficult to translate Melendez as it is to translate
Anacreon, their peculiar simplicity and grace being so nearly
allied.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[366]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="note18">18. <a href="#Page_79">Page 79.</a> “The Timid Lover.”</h3>
<p>Works of Melendez, <i>ibid.</i>, p. 263.</p>
<p>This poem having been particularly mentioned by Martinez de
la Rosa as favourably characteristic of the style of the author,
may be considered best to be selected as an exemplification of it.
It is what is termed a Letrillia.</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<h4><span class="smcap">El Amante timido.</span></h4>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">En la pena aguda</div>
<div class="verse">Que me hace sufrir</div>
<div class="verse">El Amor tirano</div>
<div class="verse">Desde que te vi</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Mil veces su alivio</div>
<div class="verse">Te voy à pedir,</div>
<div class="verse">Y luego, aldeana,</div>
<div class="verse">Que llego ante ti,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Si quiero atreverme</div>
<div class="verse indent1">No sè que decir.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Las voces me faltan</div>
<div class="verse">Y mi frenesí</div>
<div class="verse">Con mìseros ayes</div>
<div class="verse">Las cuida suplir</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Pero el dios que aleve</div>
<div class="verse">Se burla de mi</div>
<div class="verse">Cuanto ansio mas tierno</div>
<div class="verse">Mis labios abrir</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Se quiero atreverme</div>
<div class="verse indent1">No sè que decir.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Sus fuegos entonces</div>
<div class="verse">Empieza à sentir</div>
<div class="verse">Tan vivos el alma</div>
<div class="verse">Que pienso morir,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Mis làgrimas corren,</div>
<div class="verse">Mi agudo gemir</div>
<div class="verse">Tu pecho sensible</div>
<div class="verse">Conmueve, y al fin</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Si quiero atreverme</div>
<div class="verse indent1">No sè que decir.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">No lo sè, temblando</div>
<div class="verse">Si por descubrir</div>
<div class="verse">Con loca esperanza</div>
<div class="verse">Mi amor infeliz,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Tu lado por siempre</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[367]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Tendrè ya que huir:</div>
<div class="verse">Sellàndome el miedo</div>
<div class="verse">La boca: y asì</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Si quiero atreverme</div>
<div class="verse indent1">No sè que decir.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Ay! si tu, adorada,</div>
<div class="verse">Pudieras oir</div>
<div class="verse">Mis hondos suspiros</div>
<div class="verse">Yo fuera feliz.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Yo, Filis, lo fuera</div>
<div class="verse">Mas, triste de mi!</div>
<div class="verse">Que tìmido al verte</div>
<div class="verse">Burlarme y reir,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Si quiero atreverme</div>
<div class="verse indent1">No sè que decir.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h3 id="note19">19. <a href="#Page_81">Page 81.</a> “My Village Life.”</h3>
<p>This and the two following poems are taken from those at pages
94, 110 and 64 of the first volume of the Works of Melendez
Valdes; the Disdainful Shepherdess from the one at p. 62 of
vol. ii.</p>
<h3 id="note20">20. <a href="#Page_95">Page 95.</a> “Merits of their national dramas.”</h3>
<p>For an excellent criticism on the Spanish drama, see the article
in the twenty-fifth volume of the Quarterly Review.</p>
<h3 id="note21">21. <a href="#Page_104">Page 104.</a> “There, says his biographer,” &c.</h3>
<p>In the sketch prefixed to the edition by Rivadeneyra, from
which the two poems following are taken, at pages 581 and 582.
The one to Jovellanos has been justly praised by Mr. Ticknor as
one of his best, and from it we may in preference extract the commencement,
as an exemplification of his style.</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Si, la pura amistad, que en dulce nudo</div>
<div class="verse">Nuestras almas uniò, durable existe</div>
<div class="verse">Jovino ilustre, y ni la ausencia larga</div>
<div class="verse">Ni la distancia, ni interpuestos montes</div>
<div class="verse">Y proceloso mar que suena roco,</div>
<div class="verse">De mi memoria apartaràn tu idea.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Duro silencio à mi cariño impuso</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[368]</a></span>
<div class="verse">El son de Marte, que suspende ahora</div>
<div class="verse">La paz, la dulce paz. Sè que en obscura</div>
<div class="verse">Deliciosa quietud, contento vives,</div>
<div class="verse">Siempre animado de incansable celo</div>
<div class="verse">Por el pùblico bien; de las virtudes</div>
<div class="verse">Y del talento protector y amigo.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Estos que formo de primor desnudos,</div>
<div class="verse">No castigados de tu docta lima,</div>
<div class="verse">Fàciles versos, la verdad te anuncien</div>
<div class="verse">De mi constante fe; y el cielo en tanto</div>
<div class="verse">Vuèlvame presto la ocasion de verte</div>
<div class="verse">Y renovar en familiar discurso</div>
<div class="verse">Cuanto à mi vista presentò del orbe</div>
<div class="verse">La varia escena. De mi patria orilla</div>
<div class="verse">A las que el Sena turbulento baña,</div>
<div class="verse">Teñido en sangre, del audaz Britano</div>
<div class="verse">Dueño del mar, al aterido Belga,</div>
<div class="verse">Del Rin profundo à las nevades cumbres</div>
<div class="verse">Del Apenino, y la que en humo ardiente</div>
<div class="verse">Cubre y ceniza à Nàpoles canora,</div>
<div class="verse">Pueblos, naciones, visitè distintas</div>
<div class="verse">Util sciencia adquirì, que nunca enseña</div>
<div class="verse">Docta leccion en retirada estancia,</div>
<div class="verse">Que alli no ves la diferencia suma</div>
<div class="verse">Que el clima, el culto, la opinion, las artes,</div>
<div class="verse">Las leyes causan. Hallaràsla solo</div>
<div class="verse">Si al hombre estudias en el hombre mismo.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h3 id="note22">22. <a href="#Page_113">Page 113.</a> “Juan Bautista de Arriaza.”</h3>
<p>This poet’s name is pronounced Arriatha; the two poems
selected for translation are taken, the first from p. 60 of Book
III. of his works, edition of 1829. ‘The Parting, or the Young
Sailor’s Farewell,’ from <i>ibid.</i>, Book I. p. 77.</p>
<p>The eighth stanza, beginning in the translation, ‘With venal
aid of hate assists,’ is in the original—</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Què de ministros vendes a su encono,</div>
<div class="verse">Anglia infecunda! de las nieblas trono,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Campos que el sol no mira,</div>
<div class="verse">Que en sonrisa falsa, Flora reviste</div>
<div class="verse">De esteril verde, en que la flor es triste,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Y Amor sin gloria espira.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[369]</a></span></p>
<p>Which stanza is thus translated by Maury:—</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Combien te sied le mal, Angleterre inféconde,</div>
<div class="verse">Amante de vapeurs, jeteé où l’œil du monde</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Te regarde si peu!</div>
<div class="verse">Champs où la brume arrose une oiseuse verdure,</div>
<div class="verse">Où Flore est sans gaieté, l’automne sans parure,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">L’Amour sans traits de feu!</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>Of thirty-three stanzas in the original, Maury has only taken
fifteen for his translation, and of ‘The Parting’ he has only taken
eighteen out of twenty-five. The four concluding stanzas are in
the original—</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Crisol de adversidad claro y seguro</div>
<div class="verse">Vuestro valor probò sublime y puro,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">O Marinos Hispanos!</div>
<div class="verse">Broquel fue de la patria vuestra vida</div>
<div class="verse">Que al fin vengada y siempre defendida</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Serà por vuestras manos.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Rinda al Leon y al Aguila Neptuno</div>
<div class="verse">El brazo tutelar, con que importuno</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Y esclavo al Anglia cierra:</div>
<div class="verse">Y ella os verà desde las altas popas</div>
<div class="verse">Lanzar torrentes de invencibles tropas</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Sobre su infausta tierra.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Bàsteos, en tanto, el lùgubre tributo</div>
<div class="verse">De su muerte Adalid doblando el luto</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Del Tàmesis umbrio,</div>
<div class="verse">Que, si, llenos de honrosas cicatrices</div>
<div class="verse">Se os ve, para ocasiones mas felices</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Reservar vuestro brio.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Sois cual leon, que en Libico desierto</div>
<div class="verse">Con garra atroz, del cazador experto</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Rompiò asechanza astuta;</div>
<div class="verse">Que no inglorioso, aunque sangriento y laso</div>
<div class="verse">Temido si, se vuelve paso à paso</div>
<div class="verse indent2">A su arenosa gruta.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h3 id="note23">23. <a href="#Page_145">Page 145.</a> “Described by Humboldt.”</h3>
<p>Political Essay on New Spain, Book II. chapter 5.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[370]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="note24">24. <a href="#Page_145">Page 145.</a> “So popular a writer as Larra.”</h3>
<p>Mariano Josè de Larra was born at Madrid, 24th March, 1809.
His father had joined the French army as a medical officer, and
after the peace went to France, taking his son with him, where he
forgot his native language, so that he had to learn it as a novice
on his return to Spain. It is not improbable that his education
in that country, where also he passed some time subsequently,
gave Larra’s mind that tendency for scepticism and perverted
feeling which led to his miserable end. From his earliest years
he showed great aptitude for learning, and had studied the Greek,
English and Italian languages, before he went to Valladolid to
prepare for the profession of the law. After a short residence
there, he went to Valencia on some disappointment he suffered,
which, to one of his temperament, seemed a greater misfortune
than what perhaps any other person would have considered it.
At Valencia he obtained employment in a public office, which,
however, did not suit his taste, and having then married, he returned
to Madrid and determined to write for the public. His
first efforts were not successful, and have not been subsequently
reprinted with his works, but after a short time he began writing
a series of essays on passing events, under the signature of Figaro,
which at once attained great popularity. He also wrote several
plays and a few poems, which, as written by Figaro, were favourably
received. But the essays, under that title, were the foundation
of his popularity. They were in the style of our essayists of
the reign of Queen Anne, containing criticisms, and sketches of
manners and characters, written in a style of great ease and elegance,
marked with much wit and humour, as well as vigour.
These works have been very many times reprinted in Spain, and
also in France and South America. The student who wishes to
form a correct style in learning Spanish, cannot do better than
take Larra for a model. By his writings he had attained a respectable
place in literary society, and it was understood that his
fortunes were thereby also in a state of competence. He was,
however, possessed of an ill-regulated mind and headstrong passions,
so that, as it seems intimated, baffled in some object of unlawful
desire, he put an end to his existence by a pistol shot the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[371]</a></span>
13th February, 1837.</p>
<p>In his review of Quintana’s Life of Las Casas, he unreservedly
subscribes to all the sentiments therein expressed.</p>
<h3 id="note25">25. <a href="#Page_160">Page 160.</a> “From the proud castled poop,” &c.</h3>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Se alzò el Breton en el soberbio alcazar</div>
<div class="verse">Que corona su indòmito navio;</div>
<div class="verse">Y ufano con su gloria y poderio</div>
<div class="verse">Alli estan, exclamò.</div>
</div>
</div>
<h3 id="note26">26. <a href="#Page_161">Page 161.</a> “Conquerors of winds and waves.”</h3>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse indent4">… sus nadantes proras</div>
<div class="verse">Del viento y de las ondas vencedoras.</div>
</div>
</div>
<h3 id="note27">27. <a href="#Page_163">Page 163.</a> “And Alcalà, Churruca, also ye!”</h3>
<p>Of those who fell at Trafalgar, the names of Alcalà and Churruca
seem to be remembered with peculiar affection. The latter is referred
to by Arriaza also, and seems to have been an officer of
great skill and bravery in his profession, as well as of most amiable
qualities in private life. Alcalà was an officer of very superior attainments.
He was author of a learned Treatise on taking Observations
of Longitude and Latitude at Sea, published at Madrid,
1796. With the copy of this work in my possession, there is
bound up an unedited treatise of his original manuscript, ‘On the
Trigonometrical Calculation of the Height of Mountains.’ He
has already been referred to in Note 2.</p>
<p>The Spanish navy is at the present day much distinguished for
the superior attainments and character of the officers, as well as
in former years. In addition to the poet Arriaza, they have to
boast of the late learned Navarrete, one of the most eminent and
industrious writers of our times, principally on scientific subjects
connected with his profession, geography, hydrography, and voyages,
though in various biographical works he has extended his
labours to the memory of poets and others, as well as the naval
heroes of his country: see his memoir in Ochoa, vol. ii.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[372]</a></span> p. 586,
copied from one by the Bishop of Astorga.</p>
<h3 id="note28">28. <a href="#Page_164">Page 164.</a> “Yet fell ye not, ye generous squadrons.”</h3>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">No empero sin venganza y sin estrago,</div>
<div class="verse">Generoso escuadron alli caiste:</div>
<div class="verse">Tambien brotando à rios</div>
<div class="verse">La sangre Inglesa inunda sus navios.</div>
<div class="verse">Tambien Albion pasmada</div>
<div class="verse">Los montes de cadàveres contempla</div>
<div class="verse">Horrendo peso à su soberbia armada.</div>
<div class="verse">Tambien Nelson alli, Terrible sombra,</div>
<div class="verse">No esperes, no, cuando mi voz te nombra</div>
<div class="verse">Que vil insulte à tu postrer suspiro;</div>
<div class="verse">Inglès te aborrecì, y hèroe te admiro.</div>
<div class="verse">Oh, golpe! oh, suerte! El Tàmesis aguarda</div>
<div class="verse">De las naves cautivas</div>
<div class="verse">El confuso tropel, y ya en idea</div>
<div class="verse">Goza el aplauso y los sonoros vivas</div>
<div class="verse">Que al vencedor se dan. Oh suerte! El puerto</div>
<div class="verse">Solo le verà entrar pàlido y yerto:</div>
<div class="verse">Ejemplo grande à la arrogancia humana,</div>
<div class="verse">Digno holocausto à la afliccion Hispana.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>The two poems from Quintana are at pages 16 and 93 respectively
of the fourth edition of his works, published in 1825.</p>
<h3 id="note29">29. <a href="#Page_170">Page 170.</a> “The Conde de Toreno.”</h3>
<p>This able and enlightened statesman was born at Oviedo in
1786, and died at Paris in 1845. His work, on the ‘Rising, War,
and Revolution of Spain,’ is one well deserving of the fame it has
attained, having been translated into all the principal languages of
Europe.</p>
<h3 id="note30">30. <a href="#Page_170">Page 170.</a> “The celebrated Pacheco.”</h3>
<p>Born at Ecija, near Seville, in 1808, he came to Madrid in 1833,
and was admitted an Advocate in the courts of law, but has been
since engaged actively in conducting various publications, principally
of a political character. He has been several times chosen
member of the legislature, and had to undertake his share of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[373]</a></span>
public duties, but he has declined office, and in his whole public
life shown a freedom from ambition, remarkable, as Del Rio intimates,
from the contrast it presents with the conduct of other
men of far inferior abilities. He has announced ‘A History of
the Regency of Queen Christina,’ of which he has published a
preliminary volume, comprising a detail of antecedent events. He
has also written various plays and poems, but not of such a character
as to be worthy of his fame as a public speaker and journalist.
His life of Martinez de la Rosa, given in a publication
entitled ‘Galeria de Españoles celebres contemporaneos, 1842,’
(which work has now extended to many volumes, including persons
of distinction in all ranks of life,) is very pleasingly written,
and has been taken as the principal authority in this compilation.</p>
<h3 id="note31">31. <a href="#Page_176">Page 176.</a> “Rights of the Basque people.”</h3>
<p>For a just statement of these rights, see the late Earl of Carnarvon’s
‘Portugal and Galicia,’ vol. ii.</p>
<h3 id="note32">32. <a href="#Page_180">Page 180.</a> “Observation may apply to English verse.”</h3>
<p>Our best poets, and Milton especially, afford many exemplifications
of this practice.</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">O’er many a frozen, many a fiery alp,</div>
<div class="verse">Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens and shades of death</div>
<div class="verse center">…</div>
<div class="verse">Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things</div>
<div class="verse">Abominable, inutterable and worse.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>Many of our syllables also are in effect double syllables, as in the
words <i>brave</i>, <i>grave</i>, <i>clave</i>, &c., as singers often have to regret,
causing them, on that account, to slur over them. But these
rules are only a continuation of Quinctilian’s maxim, “Optime de
illa judicant aures. Quædam arte tradi non possunt.”</p>
<h3 id="note33">33. <a href="#Page_181">Page 181.</a> “The Roman friend,” &c.</h3>
<p>See note 23 to the Fourth Canto of Childe Harold.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[374]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="note34">34. <a href="#Page_183">Page 183.</a> “I saw upon the shady Thames.”</h3>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Vi en el Tàmesis umbrio</div>
<div class="verse">Cien y cien naves cargadas</div>
<div class="verse indent1">De riqueza;</div>
<div class="verse">Vi su inmenso poderio</div>
<div class="verse">Sus artes tan celebradas</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Su grandeza.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Mas el ànima afligida</div>
<div class="verse">Mil suspiros exhalaba</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Y ayes mil;</div>
<div class="verse">Y ver la orilla florida</div>
<div class="verse">Del manso Dauro anhelaba</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Y del Genil.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Vi de la soberbia corte</div>
<div class="verse">Las damas engalanadas</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Muy vistosas;</div>
<div class="verse">Vi las bellezas del norte</div>
<div class="verse">De blanca nieve formadas</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Y de rosas.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Sus ojos de azul del cielo,</div>
<div class="verse">De oro puro parecia</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Su cabello;</div>
<div class="verse">Bajo transparente velo</div>
<div class="verse">Turgente el seno se via</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Blanco y bello.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Mas que valen los brocados</div>
<div class="verse">Las sedas y pedreria</div>
<div class="verse indent1">De la ciudad?</div>
<div class="verse">Que los rostros sonrosados</div>
<div class="verse">La blancura y gallardia</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Ni la beldad?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Con mostrarse mi zagala,</div>
<div class="verse">De blanco lino vestida,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Fresca y pura,</div>
<div class="verse">Condena la inutil gala</div>
<div class="verse">Y se esconde confundida</div>
<div class="verse indent1">La hermosura.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Dò hallar en climas helados</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[375]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Sus negros ojos graciosos,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Que son fuego?</div>
<div class="verse">Ora me miren airados</div>
<div class="verse">Ora roben cariñosos</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Mi sosiego.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Dò la negra caballera</div>
<div class="verse">Que al èbano se aventaja?</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Y el pie leve</div>
<div class="verse">Que al triscar por la pradera</div>
<div class="verse">Ni las tiernas flores aja,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Ni aun las mueve?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Doncellas las del Genil</div>
<div class="verse">Vuestra tez escurecida</div>
<div class="verse indent1">No trocara</div>
<div class="verse">Por los rostros de marfil</div>
<div class="verse">Que Albion envanecida</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Me mostrara.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Padre Dauro! manso rio,</div>
<div class="verse">De las arenas doradas,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Dìgnate oir</div>
<div class="verse">Los votos del pecho mio,</div>
<div class="verse">Y en tus màrgenes sagradas</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Logre morir!</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>Works of Martinez de la Rosa, edition of Barcelona, 1838, vol. iv.
p. 1. The other translations are taken from the same, pages 113,
104, 48 and 34 respectively.</p>
<p>In the prologue, he enters on the discussion, so common a few
years since, as to the relative merits of what were called the Classical
and Romantic schools of poetry, which discussion, it is to be
hoped, may now be considered at an end. The pretensions of
different writers, who affected to range themselves under one or
other of these denominations, were in fact generally only the devices
of mediocrity to shelter their deficiencies. Those who write
spontaneously from the true inspiration of genius, will never submit
to the shackles of any system, and for all writers the wisest
aim is to seek the clearest style of expressing those thoughts
which they have to convey. As Martinez de la Rosa has well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[376]</a></span>
observed in this prologue, “I do not remember any one sublime
passage, in whatever language it may be, that is not expressed
with the utmost simplicity; and without this most essential
quality, they cannot excite in the mind that lively and instantaneous
impression which distinguishes them.”</p>
<h3 id="note35">35. <a href="#Page_184">Page 184.</a> “The light foot that never stirs,” &c.</h3>
<p>An Andalusian poet may be excused entering into hyperbolical
praise of his countrywomen, but we find an English traveller
almost as hyperbolical in praise of them also. “It is beyond the
power of language to describe those slow and surpassingly graceful
movements which accompany every step of the Andalusa; her
every attitude is so flowing, at the same time so unforced, that
she seems upborne by some invisible power that renders her independent
of the classically moulded foot she presses so lightly on
the ground.”—<cite>Murray’s Cities and Wilds of Andalusia.</cite></p>
<h3 id="note36">36. <a href="#Page_216">Page 216.</a> “His biographer, Pastor Diaz,” &c.</h3>
<p>In the work already mentioned, ‘Galeria de Españoles contemporaneos,’
under his own superintendence, and from which the
notices in this compilation are principally taken. Pastor Diaz
was born at Vivero in Galicia, in the year 1811, and was educated
at Alcalà de Henares. Having been admitted an Advocate in the
courts of law, he engaged, in 1833, in the public service, and has
held various offices under the government in the provinces. In
1847 he published a volume of poems, of which two,—one, ‘The
Black Butterfly,’ and the other, an ‘Ode to the Moon,’—Ochoa
declares, in his opinion, “two of the most beautiful pieces that
have been written for many years in Spain.” Disagreeing very
much with this opinion, it is only quoted in token of the estimation
in which Pastor Diaz is held among his countrymen. (Ochoa,
vol. ii. p. 628.)</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[377]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="note37">37. <a href="#Page_216">Page 216.</a> “The advantages he enjoyed there.”</h3>
<p>In his poem of the ‘Moro Esposito,’ the Duke has inserted an
interesting episode referring to his residence in Malta, “whose
good and honest inhabitants he found under the dominion of the
most wealthy, free, enlightened, noble and powerful nation that
the sun admires from the zodiac.” (Book VI.) In the notes he details
the particulars under which he arrived there, acknowledging
gratefully the hospitality he had received.</p>
<h3 id="note38">38. <a href="#Page_222">Page 222.</a> “Pedro, surnamed the Cruel.”</h3>
<p>This name is pronounced Ped-ro. The true character of the
monarch is yet a disputed question, and has only within the last
year been offered as a subject for inquiry by the Spanish Academy.
The learned Llorente, in his ‘Historical Notices,’ vol. v., has, I
think, clearly shown that Pedro was no more deserving of the
epithet peculiarly than others of his age, including his half-brother
and successor, by whose hand he fell, in retributive justice for the
death of their other brother Fadrique. The legend of this prince’s
death has been variously given, and thus Salvador Bermudez de
Castro, who has also a poem on the subject, takes some different
details to those repeated by the Duke de Rivas. The traditions
of the people have handed down Don Pedro’s memory more
favourably, and, perhaps, more justly, than the historians of the
time, whose accounts no doubt were tinctured as darkly as they
could be, partly to please the reigning monarch, and partly because
Don Pedro had not been so submissive to priestly rule as
they had desired.</p>
<h3 id="note39">39. <a href="#Page_227">Page 227.</a> “Yet, ah! those lovely bowers along,” &c.</h3>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Mas, ay! aquellos pensiles</div>
<div class="verse">No he pisado un solo dia</div>
<div class="verse">Sin ver (sueños de mi mente!)</div>
<div class="verse">La sombra de la Padilla,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Lanzando un hondo gemido</div>
<div class="verse">Cruzar leve ante mi vista,</div>
<div class="verse">Como un vapor, como un humo</div>
<div class="verse">Que entre los àrboles gira:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[378]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Ni entrè en aquellos salones</div>
<div class="verse">Sin figuràrseme erguida</div>
<div class="verse">Del fundador la fantasma</div>
<div class="verse">En helada sangre tinta;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Ni en vestibulo oscuro</div>
<div class="verse">El que tiene en la cornisa</div>
<div class="verse">De los reyes los retratos,</div>
<div class="verse">El que en colunas estriba,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Al que adornan azulejos</div>
<div class="verse">Abajo, y esmalte arriba</div>
<div class="verse">El que muestra en cada muro</div>
<div class="verse">Un rico balcon, y encima</div>
<div class="verse indent1">El hondo arteson dorado</div>
<div class="verse">Que lo corona y atrista,</div>
<div class="verse">Sin ver en tierra un cadaver.</div>
<div class="verse">Aun en las losas se mira</div>
<div class="verse">Una tenaz mancha oscura</div>
<div class="verse">Ni las edades limpian!</div>
<div class="verse">Sangre! sangre! oh, cielos, cuantos</div>
<div class="verse">Sin saber que lo es, la pisan!</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>This romance was originally printed with the ‘Moro Esposito,’
Paris 1834, vol. ii. p. 451. It was subsequently included among
the ‘Romances Historicos,’ Madrid 1841, p. 19. The Alcazar
of Seville has been described by so many travellers that it is unnecessary
to add to their accounts of it, or to the graphic details of
the romance. The stain on the floor may remind the reader of the
legends of Holyrood and the Alhambra, as well as of other places.</p>
<h3 id="note40">40. <a href="#Page_233">Page 233.</a> “Darting round fierce looks,” &c.</h3>
<p>This description of anger, as again at <a href="#Page_241">p. 241</a>, seems a favourite
one with the Duke, as well as other poets; thus Virgil—</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse indent6">Totoque ardentis ab ore</div>
<div class="verse">Scintillæ absistunt, oculis micat acribus ignis.</div>
</div>
</div>
<h3 id="note41">41. <a href="#Page_234">Page 234.</a> “The crackling of his arms and knees.”</h3>
<p>From the peculiarity of this formation, the king was recognized
by an old woman who had witnessed his killing a man he had met
in a night rencontre in the street opposite her house, and she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[379]</a></span>
having given evidence to that effect, he ordered his statue to be
beheaded, and so placed in the street in memorial of the sentence
against himself.</p>
<h3 id="note42">42. <a href="#Page_236">Page 236.</a></h3>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">“And more than Tello madly hates,</div>
<div class="verse">And more than Henry too.”</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>The two brothers of Fadrique, of whom Henry was his successor
on the throne, after he had killed Don Pedro in fight by his own
hand. In another romance, the Duke de Rivas describes this
“fratricide,” and represents that Don Pedro had the advantage
at first, but that the page of the other came to his master’s
assistance, and attacking Don Pedro from behind, diverted his attention
so as to enable him to give the King the death-wound.
From the accounts handed down to us, it is clear that Don Pedro
had sufficient grounds for suspecting treason from the brothers,
which occasioned his animosity against them and their adherents,
for which they afterwards blackened his memory.</p>
<h3 id="note43">43. <a href="#Page_259">Page 259.</a> “Meagre soup bouillie.”</h3>
<p>In the original, Gazpacho, “the name of a dish universal in and
peculiar to Spain. It is a sort of cold soup, made of bread, pot-herbs,
oil and water. Its materials are easily come by, and its
concoction requires no skill.” Mr. W. G. Clark has taken this
name for the title of his lively ‘Sketches of Spain,’ London 1850.</p>
<h3 id="note44">44. <a href="#Page_260">Page 260.</a> “Whene’er Don Juan,” &c.</h3>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Siempre que tiene una broma</div>
<div class="verse indent1">El señor don Juan me olvida</div>
<div class="verse">Como si estuviera en Roma;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Y à un entierro me convida</div>
<div class="verse">Para matarme de pena!</div>
<div class="verse indent4">Sea enhorabuena.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Despues de melindres mil</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[380]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent1">Canta Celestina el duo</div>
<div class="verse">Que le han puesto en atril,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Y aunque canta como un buho</div>
<div class="verse">Todos la llaman Sirena.</div>
<div class="verse indent4">Sea enhorabuena.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Cien abejas sin reposo</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Labrando à porfia estàn</div>
<div class="verse">El dulce panal sabroso.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Ay! que un zàngano holgazàn</div>
<div class="verse">Se ha de tragar la colmena!</div>
<div class="verse indent4">Sea enhorabuena.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">El hombre à su semejante</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Mueve guerra furibundo,</div>
<div class="verse">Cual si no fuera bastante</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Para despoblar el mundo</div>
<div class="verse">El escuadron de Avicena.</div>
<div class="verse indent4">Sea enhorabuena.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Hay en España usureros</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Hay esbirros à montones,</div>
<div class="verse">Y chalanes y venteros,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Y dicen que los ladrones</div>
<div class="verse">Estan en Sierra Morena!</div>
<div class="verse indent4">Sea enhorabuena.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">En vano à tu puerta, Conde,</div>
<div class="verse">Llegan los pobres desnudos,</div>
<div class="verse">Que el perro solo responde,</div>
<div class="verse">Y gastas dos mil escudos</div>
<div class="verse">En un baile y una cena!</div>
<div class="verse indent4">Sea enhorabuena.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Basta por hoy de sermon.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Aqui mi pluma suspendo</div>
<div class="verse">Hasta mejor ocasion.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Si el vicio en vano reprendo</div>
<div class="verse">Y escribo sobre la arena,</div>
<div class="verse indent4">Sea enhorabuena.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>The selections from Breton de los Herreros are taken from the
edition of 1831, at pages 61, 63 and 71 respectively.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[381]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="note45">45. <a href="#Page_269">Page 269.</a> “The celebrated Lista.”</h3>
<p>This celebrated writer was born at Seville in 1775, and in early
life adopted the ecclesiastical profession, having therein principally
dedicated himself to the education of youth, in which he has been
eminently successful. He has written a continuation of Mariana’s
‘History of Spain,’ and translated from the French Segur’s ‘Universal
History,’ besides several mathematical and other elementary
works. In 1822 he published a volume of poems, of which a
second edition has been since published, highly praised by the
different writers who have treated of modern Spanish literature.
They are however avowedly of the classical school, and their
greatest merit must be supposed to consist in their elegance of
expression. His critical writings are numerous and valuable.</p>
<h3 id="note46">46. <a href="#Page_271">Page 271.</a> “Twelve out of the nineteen stanzas.”</h3>
<p>The stanzas 6, 9, 10, 11, 16 and 17 seem to be of his addition,
and it must be acknowledged that they are in no respect inferior
to the others. One stanza in Pindemonte he has not taken into
his version.</p>
<h3 id="note47">47. <a href="#Page_272">Page 272.</a> “Part of his first volume is taken up with
imitations.”</h3>
<p>Before observing that this part had been so expressed at the
beginning, I made a translation of one small piece, which may
give an idea of the others.</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<h4><span class="smcap">En el Album de una Senorita.</span></h4>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Cual suele en màrmol sepulcral escrito</div>
<div class="verse">Un nombre detener al pasagero,</div>
<div class="verse">Pueda en aquesta pàgina mi nombre</div>
<div class="verse">Fijar tus ojos, ay! por los que muero.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Miralo, cuando ya de ti apartado,</div>
<div class="verse">No te pide mi amor mas recompensa;</div>
<div class="verse">De mi te acuerda como muerte y piensa</div>
<div class="verse">Que aqui mi corazon queda enterrado.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[382]</a></span></p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<h4><span class="smcap">In a Lady’s Album.</span></h4>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">As on sepulchral marble writ</div>
<div class="verse indent1">A name to stay the passer-by,</div>
<div class="verse">So let my name on this page meet</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Thine eyes, for which, alas! I die.</div>
<div class="verse">Look on it when I am far from thee;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">My love asks no return more dear;</div>
<div class="verse">As of one dead remember me,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And think my heart is buried here.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>It was only on translating the last line that I recognized them
as Lord Byron’s.</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<h4><span class="smcap">Written in an Album.</span></h4>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">As o’er the cold sepulchral stone</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Some name arrests the passer-by,</div>
<div class="verse">Thus when thou view’st this page alone</div>
<div class="verse indent1">May mine attract thy pensive eye.</div>
<div class="verse">And when by thee that name is read</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Perchance in some succeeding year,</div>
<div class="verse">Reflect on me as on the dead,</div>
<div class="verse indent1">And think my heart is buried here.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h3 id="note48">48. <a href="#Page_275">Page 275.</a> “Sonnet, Dedication,” &c.</h3>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<h4><span class="smcap">A mi Esposa.</span></h4>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">Cuando en mis venas fèrvidas ardia</div>
<div class="verse">La fiera juventud, en mis canciones</div>
<div class="verse">El tormentoso afan de mis pasiones</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Con dolorosas làgrimas vertia.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Hoy à ti las dedico, Esposa mia,</div>
<div class="verse">Cuando el amor mas libre de ilusiones</div>
<div class="verse">Inflama nuestros puros corazones,</div>
<div class="verse">Y sereno y de paz me luce el dia.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Asi perdido en turbulentos mares</div>
<div class="verse">Mìsero navegante al cielo implora,</div>
<div class="verse">Cuando le aqueja la tormenta grave;</div>
<div class="verse indent1">Y del naufragio libre, en los altares</div>
<div class="verse">Consagra fiel à la Deidad que adora</div>
<div class="verse">Las hùmedas reliquias de su nave.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>This sonnet, and the two following translations, are taken respectively
from pages 8, 18 and 46 of the first volume of the
Toluca edition. The imitation of Lord Byron is at page 83 of
the same. The Odes to ‘Poesy’ and to ‘Night’ are a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[383]</a></span>t pages 13
and 72 of the second volume.</p>
<h3 id="note49">49. <a href="#Page_282">Page 282.</a> “Milton elevated all beyond.”</h3>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Y Milton mas que todos elevado</div>
<div class="verse">A su angel fiero de diamante armado.</div>
</div>
</div>
<h3 id="note50">50. <a href="#Page_305">Page 305.</a> “Josè de Espronceda.”</h3>
<p>This name is to be pronounced Esprontheda. The translations,
taken from the original poems, may be found in the Paris edition
of 1848, at pages 49, 58, 73 and 79 respectively. The one translated,
‘The Condemned to Die,’ El Reo de Muerte, literally, ‘The
Guilty of Death,’ has the signification given to this phrase by our
translators of the New Testament, and it may be necessary to explain
that the refrain “Your alms for prayers,” &c., is in the
original merely “To do good for the soul of him who is about to
be executed.”</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Para hacer bien al alma</div>
<div class="verse">Del que van à ajusticiar!</div>
</div>
</div>
<p>In Spain, when a criminal is about to be executed, it is the custom
for the Brothers of the religious order De la Humanidad, to
go about the public ways, in their peculiar garb, with salvers for
receiving alms for masses to be said for him, repeating words to
the effect above given.</p>
<h3 id="note51">51. <a href="#Page_315">Page 315.</a> “Sail on, my swift one, never fear.”</h3>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Navega, velero mio,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Sin temor,</div>
<div class="verse">Que ni enemigo navio,</div>
<div class="verse">Ni tormenta, ni bonanza,</div>
<div class="verse">Tu rumbo à torcer alcanza</div>
<div class="verse">Ni à sujetar tu valor.</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Veinte presos</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Hemos hecho</div>
<div class="verse indent2">A despecho</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Del Ingles,</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Y han rendido</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Sus pendones</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[384]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent2">Cien naciones</div>
<div class="verse indent2">A mis piès.</div>
<div class="verse">Que es mi barco mi tesoro,</div>
<div class="verse">Que es mi Dios la libertad,</div>
<div class="verse">Mi ley la fuerza y el viento,</div>
<div class="verse">Mi ùnica patria la mar.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Allà muevan feroz guerra</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Ciegos reyes</div>
<div class="verse">Por un palmo mas de tierra;</div>
<div class="verse">Que yo tengo aqui por mio</div>
<div class="verse">Cuanto abarca el mar bravio</div>
<div class="verse">A quien nadie impuso leyes.</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Y no hay playa</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Sea cual quiera</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Ni bandera</div>
<div class="verse indent2">De esplendor</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Que no sienta</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Mi derecho</div>
<div class="verse indent2">Y dè pecho</div>
<div class="verse indent2">A mi valor.</div>
<div class="verse">Que es mi barco mi tesoro.…</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">A la voz de ‘barco viene!’</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Es de ver</div>
<div class="verse">Como vira, y se previene</div>
<div class="verse">A todo trapo à escapar;</div>
<div class="verse">Que yo soy el rey del mar</div>
<div class="verse">Y mi furia es de temer.</div>
<div class="verse indent3">En las presas</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Yo divido</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Lo cogido</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Por igual:</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Solo quiero</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Por riqueza</div>
<div class="verse indent3">La belleza</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Sin rival</div>
<div class="verse">Que es mi barco mi tesoro.…</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Sentenciado estoy à muerte!</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Yo me rio;</div>
<div class="verse">No me abandone la suerte,</div>
<div class="verse">Y al mismo que me condena</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Colgarè de alguna entena</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[385]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Quizà en su proprio navio.</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Y si caigo</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Que es la vida?</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Por perdida</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Ya la di,</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Cuando el yugo</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Del esclavo</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Como un bravo</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Sacudì.</div>
<div class="verse">Que es mi barco mi tesoro.…</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Son mi música mejor</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Aquilones;</div>
<div class="verse">El estrépito y temblor</div>
<div class="verse">De los cables sacudidos,</div>
<div class="verse">Del negro mar los bramidos,</div>
<div class="verse">Y el rugir de mis cañones;</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Y del trueno</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Al son violento,</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Y del viento</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Al rebramàr,</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Yo me duermo</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Sosegado,</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Arrullado</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Por el mar.</div>
<div class="verse">Que es mi barco mi tesoro,</div>
<div class="verse">Que es mi Dios la libertad,</div>
<div class="verse">Mi ley la fuerza y el viento,</div>
<div class="verse">Mi ùnica patria la mar.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<h3 id="note52">52. <a href="#Page_323">Page 323.</a> “Josè Zorrilla.”</h3>
<p>The name of this eminently great poet is to be pronounced as
Thorrillia; the translations made from his works are of the poems
at pages 62, 99, 34, 97, 102, 28 and 65, respectively, of the first
volume, as stated in the memoir, published at Madrid in 1837.
The headings, for the sake of distinction, have been given somewhat
differently from the originals, where they are generally only
entitled ‘Oriental,’ or ‘A Romance;’ and the piece named ‘The
Warning’ is but part of a longer poem, the conclusion of which
is not in the same good taste as the beginning. All the other
selections translated in this work, of the different authors, have
been given fully.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[386]</a></span></p>
<h3 id="note53">53. <a href="#Page_347">Page 347.</a> “The Tower of Munion.”</h3>
<p>This tower is a shapeless ruin, the remains of an ancient castle
in the plain of Arlanza near Burgos. The history of the castle is
unknown, further than that Don Fernan Gonzalez assembled there,
on one occasion, the Grandees of Castille, during his wars with
the Moors.</p>
<h3 id="note54">54. <a href="#Page_352">Page 352.</a> “Meditation.”</h3>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<h4><span class="smcap">La Meditacion.</span></h4>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Sobre ignorada tumba solitaria,</div>
<div class="verse">A la luz amarilla de la tarde,</div>
<div class="verse">Vengo à ofrecer al cielo mi plegaria</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Por la muger que amè.</div>
<div class="verse">Apoyada en el màrmol mi cabeza,</div>
<div class="verse">Sobre la hùmeda yerba la rodilla,</div>
<div class="verse">La parda flor que esmalta la maleza</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Humillo con mi piè.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Aquì, lejos del mundo y sus placeres,</div>
<div class="verse">Levanto mis delirios de la tierra,</div>
<div class="verse">Y leo en agrupados caractères</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Nombres que ya no son;</div>
<div class="verse">Y la dorada làmpara que brilla</div>
<div class="verse">Y al soplo oscila de la brisa errante,</div>
<div class="verse">Colgada ante el altar en la capilla</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Alumbra mi oracion.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Acaso un ave su volar detiene</div>
<div class="verse">Del fùnebre ciprès entre las ramas</div>
<div class="verse">Que a lamentar con sus gorjeos viene</div>
<div class="verse indent3">La ausencia de la luz:</div>
<div class="verse">Y se despide del albor del dia</div>
<div class="verse">Desde una alta ventana de la torre</div>
<div class="verse">O trepa de la cùpula sombria</div>
<div class="verse indent3">A la gigante cruz.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Anegados en làgrimas los ojos</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[387]</a></span>
<div class="verse">Yo la contemplo inmòvil desde el suelo</div>
<div class="verse">Hasta que el rechinar de los cerrojos</div>
<div class="verse indent3">La hace aturdida huir.</div>
<div class="verse">La funeral sonrisa me saluda</div>
<div class="verse">Del solo ser que con los muertos vive,</div>
<div class="verse">Y me presta su mano àspera y ruda</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Que un fèretro va a abrir.</div>
</div>
<div class="hr"></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Perdon! no escuches Dios mio</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Mi terrenal pensamiento!</div>
<div class="verse">Deja que se pierda impio</div>
<div class="verse">Como el murmullo de un rio</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Entre los pliegues del viento.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Por que una imàgen mundana</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Viene à manchar mi oracion?</div>
<div class="verse">Es una sombra profana</div>
<div class="verse">Que tal vez serà mañana</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Signo de mi maldicion.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Por que ha soñada mi mente</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Ese fantasma tan bello?</div>
<div class="verse">Con esa tez transparente</div>
<div class="verse">Sobre la tranquila frente</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Y sobre el desnudo cuello.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Que en vez de aumentar su encanto</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Con pompa y mundano brillo,</div>
<div class="verse">Se muestra anegada en llanto</div>
<div class="verse">Al piè de altar sacrosanto</div>
<div class="verse indent3">O al piè de pardo castillo.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Como una ofrenda olvidada</div>
<div class="verse indent3">En templo que se arruinò</div>
<div class="verse">Y en la piedra cincelada</div>
<div class="verse">Que en su caida encontrò</div>
<div class="verse indent3">La mece el viento colgada.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Con su retrato en la mente,</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Con su nombre en el oido,</div>
<div class="verse">Vengo à prosternar mi frente</div>
<div class="verse">Ante el Dios omnipotente</div>
<div class="verse indent3">En la mansion del olvido.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Mi crimen acaso ven</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[388]</a></span>
<div class="verse indent2">Con turbios ojos inciertos,</div>
<div class="verse">Y me abominan los muertos,</div>
<div class="verse">Alzando la hedionda sien</div>
<div class="verse indent3">De los sepulcros abiertos.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Cuando estas tumbas visito,</div>
<div class="verse indent3">No es la nada en que naci,</div>
<div class="verse">No es un Dios lo que medito,</div>
<div class="verse">Es un nombre que està escrito</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Con fuego dentro de mi.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Perdon! no escuches Dios mio</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Mi terrenal pensamiento!</div>
<div class="verse">Deja que se pierda impio</div>
<div class="verse">Como el murmullo de un rio,</div>
<div class="verse indent3">Entre los pliegues del viento.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class="titlepage">THE END.</p>
<p class="titlepage">PRINTED BY RICHARD TAYLOR,<br />
RED LION COURT, FLEET STREET.</p>
<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 53671 ***</div>
</body>
</html>
|
