It will, perhaps, be proper to defer entering more fully into the investigation of the peculiar spirit of the Spanish national drama, until the writings of Lope de Vega come under consideration; for during the brilliant career of that author, the new form of the drama took complete possession of the Spanish theatre, and the older pieces, which did not fall in with the popular taste, were speedily forgotten by the public, as the notices of Cervantes clearly shew. But it may be proper here once for all to remind the reader of a truth now historically demonstrated, namely, that it was by no means ignorance, or want of intimacy with the dramatic works of the ancients, which facilitated the triumph of the modern Spanish drama.
No sufficiently authenticated particulars enable the literary historian to furnish any thing like positive information respecting the history of the spiritual dramas of the Spaniards at the period now under review. Considered generally their origin is sufficiently known; for dramas of this kind, intended either for amusement or instruction, were, in the middle ages, performed throughout the whole of the south of Europe. In Spain, pilgrims assiduously devoted themselves to the dramatic representation of sacred histories, when they wished to find an edifying and agreeable relaxation from their severer duties of praying and journeying from place to place. In these sacred dramas, the authors often interwove the adventures, whether serious or comic, in which they had been engaged, or described what they had seen and learnt in their holy pilgrimages; and the whole was usually seasoned with a sufficient quantity of jests in the popular style. To manifest in as palpable a way as possible the power of the sacrament, and the miraculous effects of faith, were the great objects of the pilgrims; and there seems to be no doubt that their rude efforts formed the origin of that class of spiritual plays, which, at a subsequent period, were performed on the festival of Corpus Christi, and on other solemn occasions; and which, from their allusion to the mystery of the sacrament, were styled Autos Sacramentales. But at what particular period examples of these spiritual exhibitions were first committed to writing, and formed a portion of literature, cannot now be ascertained. They have sometimes been confounded with the lives of the saints (vidas de santos293), which were originally dramatized in monasteries, and performed by the pupils of the monks, but which are in fact quite a distinct class of representations. Up to the middle of the eighteenth century the practice of acting these biographical dramas was continued in monasteries in different parts of Spain, particularly in Galicia;294 and perhaps in that province they yet afford a source of amusement and edification on festival days, to the pilgrims who visit the shrine of St. Iago de Compostela.
The burlesque interludes, called Entremeses and Saynetes, which were subsequently divided into various kinds, and were performed between the preludes (loas) and the play, properly so called, appear also to have had their origin in the first half of the sixteenth century. Cervantes could refer to no entremeses of an older date, when he contributed to give to this class of dramatic compositions a literary form and character.
What has been stated sufficiently proves the powerful control which the public exercised over the stage. The popular taste demanded an agreeable amusement, created by the boldest and most varied mixture of the serious and the comic, of intrigues, sallies of the imagination and ingenious thoughts, of surprises and animated situations; but it was not required that either a comic or a tragic scene should tend to produce any moral impression on the heart, except indeed in so far as that object may be attributed to the spiritual pieces. But how did it happen that a people in whom moral gravity has ever been a national characteristic, should thus shew themselves indifferent to the moral effects of their dramatic entertainments. The history of the formation of the Spanish character appears to disclose the cause of this incongruity so clearly, that it might be said, nature would have contradicted herself, had not such been the consequence resulting from that cause. When the treasures of America came to be dispersed through Spain, luxury and extravagance superseded the old Spanish simplicity. The age of chivalry was past; and the ecclesiastical fetters imposed upon opinion and conscience, afforded so little freedom to the mind, that it was not possible the public could endure, still less enjoy, moral reflection on the stage. The Spaniard, as a catholic Christian, devoutly and implicitly submitted his understanding to the doctrines and mandates of the church; but as a man he ardently longed for amusements, in which he might allow his heart freely to participate. Moral reflection then could not be pleasing in any place where he sought to be gratified by the unconstrained exercise of his feelings; for every moral thought tended to revive the recollection of the inquisition. Meanwhile the progress of luxury and the love of pleasure stimulated the imagination, and increased the appetite for sports of wit and fancy, which were pushed to the most extravagant excess. A people of an ardent and enthusiastic temperament, which a genial climate fostered, were always eager to partake of pleasures which no king or grand inquisitor threatened to disturb. With a taste thus formed, and with such claims on dramatic entertainment, the Spaniards were not to be satisfied with the most ingenious comedies or tragedies, unless the wildest revels of the imagination and a succession of joyous and luxuriant forms agitated and interested the mind, and freed it from all the fetters of maxims and rules of art. To see a variegated ideal world, a diversified picture of romantic existence, was the object for which the Spaniard visited the theatre, where he could endure no sort of regularity, not even that which the nature of the subject seemed most to require.
This portion of the history of Spanish dramatic poetry must not be terminated without a particular notice of two tragedies by Geronymo Bermudez, a Dominican monk of Galicia, who, at the period when he wrote them, was probably the inmate of a cloister.295 He did not think proper to acknowledge himself the author of these dramas, and he published them under the assumed name of Antonio de Silva.296 Among his other poetical works, some Spanish writers mention in terms of respect, a dull encomium on the Duke of Alba, of whom this ecclesiastic was an enthusiastic admirer.297 He lived until the year 1589. His two tragedies are imitations of the ancient drama, but they must not be confounded with the essays of the same kind, which have already been mentioned. Bermudez conceived the happy idea of selecting a subject from the history of Spain and Portugal, and dramatizing it according to the rules of the Greek tragedy, without destroying the modern character of his materials. The well known story of the unfortunate Ines de Castro, seemed particularly suited to the object he had in view. Being a Galician, he had, through his native language, a national relationship to Portugal, and he consequently took more personal interest in the tragical fate of his heroine, than was felt by Spaniards in general. He did not commence his task without apprehension of its success; for, as a Spaniard, he wished to write in Castilian, and he was, therefore, in some measure, under the necessity of studying a foreign language. This difficulty he mentions in his preface. But with all its faults, his attempt proved so fortunate, that his two tragedies may justly be styled the first in their kind. Though they are intimately connected, yet each forms in itself a complete tragic drama. Their titles are whimsical and affected: the first is denominated, Nise Lastimosa, (the Lamentable Nise); and the second, Nise Laureada, (Nise Crowned with Glory).298 The characters preserve their historical names. The first of these tragedies sufficiently proves what may be effected by a poet, even of moderate talent, when thoroughly penetrated with a poetic subject, and at the same time possessing the power of expression. The Nise Lastimosa, it is true, is far from approaching the ideal of tragic perfection; but some of the scenes fulfil all that the theory of the dramatic art can require; and energy and dignity of expression are not wanting even in those passages where the action is tedious and the incidents ill-connected. The plot is simple, and towards the conclusion its interest declines. But Bermudez has introduced, with alternate instances of remarkable dexterity and clumsiness, a chorus composed of Coimbran women, which is sometimes interwoven with the action of the drama, and sometimes quite independent of it. The unities of time and place the author has totally disregarded. The first act opens with a soliloquy by the Prince Don Pedro, which is beautiful, though somewhat too long. In it the prince deplores his separation from his beloved wife.299 This soliloquy is succeeded by a long conversation between the prince and his secretary, in which the latter, with all due courtesy, hints that the attachment of the prince for a lady, not of royal birth, is incompatible with the welfare of the state.300 The scene then changes, and the chorus of Coimbran women is very absurdly introduced to moralize on love. Thus closes the first act. In the second, the scene changes to the court, and exhibits the king amidst his assembled council; the advice of the ministers prevails over the good disposition of the monarch, and he consents to the death of Ines de Castro. A soliloquy by the king follows, in which he offers up his prayers. The scene again changes, and the fair Coimbrans once more appear to moralize on human happiness. In the third act, however, a new spirit is infused into the piece, and the chorus partakes in the action. Ines de Castro appears. The women of the chorus form her attendants, and offer her consolation and advice. Ines is informed of the reports that are circulated respecting her fate;301 but throughout this act, the progress of the story is nearly suspended. The fourth act may, however, be accounted almost a masterpiece. Ines attended by her children and the chorus, appears before the king to receive her sentence. Nothing can be more impressive than the dignity with which she demands justice, or more affecting than the tenderness towards her children, which continually breaks forth in her discourse; at length she pictures to herself in vivid colours, the sorrows that await her husband, till exhausted by the vehemence of her feelings, and gradually losing the use of her faculties, she begins for the first time to think of her own situation, anticipates the horrors of death, and swoons, exclaiming Jesus Maria! This scene exhibits a picture so replete with real pathos, that it may be truly said, modern tragic art has seldom attained so high a point of perfection.302 The fifth act is merely a tedious supplement. The prince is made acquainted with the death of his wife, and he vents his sorrow in long lamentations.
The tragedy of Nise Laureada is far inferior to that just described. The story is below criticism; and towards the end becomes revolting to feelings, which are not blunted by inquisitorial horrors, or sunk to the level of brutality. The Prince Don Pedro who has now ascended the throne, orders the remains of his judicially murdered wife to be taken from the tomb; he then, with great solemnity, invests the corpse with the dignity of queen, and the ceremony of the coronation is succeeded by a marriage. Two of the counsellors, whose perverted and inhuman patriotism had urged them to sacrifice the unhappy Ines, receive sentence of death and are executed. This is the whole plot, if so it may be called; and among the acting and speaking characters the executioners play a prominent part. The first act contains many beautiful passages; but when the last judicial ceremonies commence, horror and disgust fill the mind of the reader. The hearts of both culprits are extracted from their bodies, the one through the breast, and the other through the back. The most brutal exclamations accompany the execution of the royal sentence, and the chorus utters shouts of joy, while the executioner discharges his barbarous task. That these horrors might be regarded as pathetic incidents by the Spaniards of that age, accustomed as they were from early childhood to stifle every sentiment of humanity, and to allow fanatical exultation to overcome the natural emotions of the heart, whenever a brutal sentence was pronounced by ecclesiastical, or royal authority, is unfortunately but too probable. Had it not been for this perversion of feeling, a people, otherwise so noble-minded, could not have attended the cruel festivals of their church, and witnessed the burning of Jews and heretics with as much pleasure as the exhibition of a bull fight.
In order to form a just estimate of the talent of Bermudez, it must be recollected that he was the first who conceived the idea of giving a poetic colouring to the history of Ines de Castro. Camoens had not, at that time, written his Lusiad, in which the same story forms the subject of a celebrated episode. It may also be observed, that the labour which Bermudez bestowed on his versification, and particularly on the varied metres of the choruses of his dramas, ought to have served as an example to his successors in tragic composition.
HISTORY OF SPANISH PROSE DURING THE FIRST HALF AND TEN SUCCEEDING YEARS OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.
Among the works of the poets which come within the period allotted to the first section of this book, it has already been necessary to notice some writings in prose. The connexion then subsisting between Spanish poetry and prose, has thus been rendered more apparent, and the different works of the same author have been kept together in examining them. But the poetic talent of some authors of that age, for example, Perez de Oliva, will not bear a comparison with their merits as prose writers; and many others who have obtained reputation for prose composition, must be totally excluded from the rank of poets. In general the good sense of the Spanish writers has constantly impelled them to mark a distinct boundary between poetry and prose; and this separation was never more rigorously maintained than during the first half of the sixteenth century, when the torrent of romances of chivalry which then inundated Spain, threatened the common annihilation of genuine poetry and eloquent prose. As very little has hitherto been done in this department of literature, advantage cannot fail to be derived from the labour which may be employed in endeavouring to obtain something like an accurate introduction to the knowledge of several good Spanish prose writers, whose names have hitherto scarcely appeared in the history of modern literature.
Every one who has read Don Quixote must be aware of the enthusiasm with which romances of chivalry were admired by the Spaniards, at the end of the sixteenth and the beginning of the seventeenth century. In the reign of Charles V. this passion became epidemic; for then the art of printing gave general circulation to the old romances, and new imitations were not wanting. But the particular account of this portion of Spanish literature, does not belong to the present subject, and ought to form the conclusion of the history of the romantic literature of the middle ages. Besides, the influence of the chivalrous romances of the sixteenth century, operated on the public only in a peculiar sense of the term, for every poet and prose writer, of cultivated talent, laboured to oppose the contagion. There were, however, many literary partizans, who did not scruple to flatter the public taste by the grossest absurdities. A writer, named Geronymo de Sanpedro, with the most devout piety, selected stories from the bible, and clothed them, as he expresses himself, in the allegoric costume of romance. He entitled his fantastical work, “The Book of Celestial Chivalry from the Foot of the Fragrant Rose-bush.303” God the Father is introduced in this edifying production as emperor, and Christ as the knight of the Lion, (Caballero del Leon). In the meantime an opponent of the zealots of chivalry, named Doctor Alexio de Venegas, anathematized all romances, which he styled, “Devil’s Sermon Books,” (Sermonarios de Satanas).304 In this manner parties contended one with another in Spain, until at length the romantic literature disappeared like a stream lost amidst sand.
At this period there appears to have existed no novels or romances in the modern style, except the Lazarillo de Tormes of Diego de Mendoza. The well known imitations of this first romance of knavery (del gusto picaresco) did not come into circulation before the end of the sixteenth century. Little stories in the style of the Italian novels were, it is true, written at an earlier period; but their author, the bookseller Timoneda, the same individual who collected the comedies and pastoral dramas of Lope de Rueda, did not venture to prefix to them the title of Novelas. He was aware that he could better recommend his works to the Spanish public, by giving them the old denomination of Patrañas (Tales).305 Timoneda evidently imitated the Italian novelists, though he by no means equalled them. Still, however, these antiquated tales may be perused with pleasure, particularly by those who have a taste for complicated intrigue. The author, it would appear, endeavoured to surpass the Italian writers in romantic adventures and unexpected incidents; at least in his preface he expressly promises this kind of entertainment to his readers.
But it was not merely with romances and novels that genuine prose literature had to contend in Spain. Several men of distinguished talent, however far they carried their notions of patriotism in other respects, were of opinion that the Spanish language was incapable of expressing grave and noble ideas in prose. Some would write only in Latin, and others only in Italian. Alphonso de Ulloa, who was an assiduous historical and political author, wrote chiefly in Italian.306 He was, it is true, born in Italy; but he was of a Spanish family, and the Spanish language was perfectly familiar to him. The want of confidence thus shewn by Spanish writers in the force and precision of their own language seems inexplicable, when it is recollected at how early a period Spanish prose began to be cultivated. Their intercourse with the Italians had, however, made the Spaniards perceive a want of elegance both in their colloquial phraseology and literary style; but that grace which their poets soon began to imitate from the Italians, is but feebly indicated in the works of the early Spanish prose writers, whatever other rhetorical merits they might possess, and a frank simplicity of expression appears still to have constituted the main character of Spanish prose. Besides, the Italian prose, which with the exception of the writings of Machiavell and Guicciardini is distinguished by a playful and too often superficial elegance, could not be very congenial to the Spanish taste, which required a grave and energetic style. To imitate the ancient classics was the only means whereby the prose literature of Spain could have been cultivated in a manner answerable to the demands of enlightened men in the sixteenth century. Unfortunately the ecclesiastical and political despotism of this period left no free scope for the exercise of the mental powers of those Spaniards who were desirous of constructing a national prose style on the ancient models. Neither the didactic nor the historical styles could be freely developed; and for the formation of the oratorical style, circumstances were, if possible, still more unfavourable. Impeded by such obstacles, and permitted only to copy in the strictest sense the rhetorical forms of the ancients, without their energy and solidity of thought, and their force of expression, the Spanish prose writers certainly could not be expected to produce works worthy to be ranked on a level with the classic examples they would have wished to emulate; but their efforts to open the career of genuine eloquence to their national literature, deserves, notwithstanding, to be honourably recorded.
1. Didactic Prose is, in the Spanish language, indebted for its first formation to Fernan Perez de Oliva of Cordova. At the commencement of the sixteenth century this learned man travelled through Italy and France, and during three years which he spent in Paris delivered public lectures on philosophy and ancient literature. On his return to Spain he settled at Salamanca, where he became professor (cathedratico) of theology, and delivered lectures on the Aristotelian philosophy. He died in 1533, before he had completed his thirty-sixth year.307 His philosophic and theological studies, and his intimacy with Grecian and Roman literature, did not withhold him from the cultivation of his native language; and he even endeavoured, by his translations which have already been mentioned,308 to naturalize the Greek tragedy in Spain. He also wrote several poems, which in honour of his memory, are still preserved. But Perez de Oliva was no poet; and to judge from his translations he appears to have had scarcely any true poetic feeling, though he possessed a correct and delicate taste for the rhetorical beauty of prose. His most celebrated work is his Dialogue on the Dignity of Man (Dialogo de la Dignidad del Hombre) in the manner of Cicero.309 It would be vain to seek in this didactic dialogue for ideas which present the merit of novelty in the present age; and it can by no means be regarded as a model of dialogue style any more than the similar works of Cicero. But it was the first specimen in Spanish literature, of clear and connected discussion, maintained in correct dignified and elegant language. The colloquial form serves to connect, though somewhat loosely, the two portions into which the work is divided. Two philosophic friends meet, and their conversation turns on solitude: they endeavour to explain the causes which induce man to seek retirement, and which render him dissatisfied with the society of his fellow creatures. One of the friends inveighs against human society, while the other extols its advantages. In the mean while they are joined by a third philosopher who becomes the arbiter. Before this judge each disputant propounds his opinions in an uninterrupted discourse. Thus the oratorical style is now mingled with the didactic, which had before superseded the colloquial style. This blending of the didactic and oratorical styles, must doubtless be a subject of critical censure to many readers; but with the exception of the oratorical passages, the dialogue of Perez de Oliva is written, in a natural and easy manner.310 The ideas are for the most part clearly and accurately developed,311 and the oratorical language, particularly where it is appropriately introduced, is powerful and picturesque.312
Perez de Oliva had a successful pupil in his nephew Ambrosio de Morales, who was also a native of Cordova. This learned writer was born in the year 1513; after having finished his academic studies at the university of Alcala de Henares, he delivered public lectures on philosophy and ancient literature, by which he soon acquired an honourable reputation. Charles V. appointed him classical tutor to his natural son Don John of Austria, who afterwards became so celebrated. On the death of Charles V. Ambrosio de Morales was installed by King Philip II. in the vacant post of historiographer or chronicler (coronista) of Castile. From the period when he entered upon this office he appears to have devoted himself exclusively to historical studies. He died at an advanced age. His didactic works consist of treatises (discursos) on various subjects of practical philosophy and literature. In one of these treatises, he expressly and urgently recommends the rhetorical cultivation of the Spanish language, which the writers of that age so unjustly disowned and neglected to the great prejudice of literature and even of philosophy.313 The other dissertations of this meritorious writer, which are not so much known, relate to the importance of rhetorical studies; the distinction between Plato’s and Aristotle’s methods of instruction; the duty of man to exert himself to the utmost when he wishes for the assistance of the Almighty; the difference between a great and a good understanding; the value of wealth, independent of personal merit in the possessor; and such like objects of general utility. He only occasionally casts a side glance on the region of speculative philosophy, so that among Germans he might with propriety be called the Spanish Garve. Like that author his views were clear rather than profound; and like him also his object was to write pure didactic prose. His style, though not energetic nor impressive, is natural, clear, and precise, and not unfrequently adorned with pleasing images.314 The pedantic allusions to the scriptures and to classical literature must be attributed to the age and country to which Morales belonged.315
Pedro de Valles, another native of Cordova, followed the example of Perez de Oliva, in cultivating prose; but he inclined to the pomp and antitheses of Seneca, which he was perhaps induced to imitate from respect for his countryman; for the learned of Cordova have always prided themselves in being natives of a city which had produced an ancient author of so much celebrity. Morales, in his collection of his own and his uncle’s works, has inserted a treatise by Valles on the Fear of Death.316
Francisco Cervantes de Salazar, who lived about the same period, likewise followed the tract which had been marked out by Perez de Oliva. Respecting the life of this writer but few particulars are known; and the resemblance of his name to that of the celebrated Cervantes Saavedra, does not appear to be a sufficient reason for concluding that he was related to that distinguished author. Cervantes de Salazar wrote a continuation of Oliva’s Dialogue on the Dignity of Man; for he regarded it as unfinished, because Oliva allows the friend and the enemy of human nature to deliver their opinions, while the third party, who is appointed the philosophic arbiter, draws no inference from the arguments he hears. Through the medium of this third character, Salazar circumstantially recapitulates the whole theme, and arrives at a decided conclusion. Salazar is a more contemplative writer than Oliva, who, in other respects appears to have been his model. He translated from the Greek the Tabla of Cebes, and from the Latin the Introductio ad sapientiam of Luis Vives, one of the learned Spaniards who did not choose to write in their native tongue. He published his continuations and translations along with the original works.317
Among the various works which Cervantes de Salazar published and elucidated, is an allegorical romance, entitled “Labricio, or the fable (Apologo) of Idleness and Industry.” This romance may be placed if not among, at least beside didactic works, for the allegorical form serves merely to clothe the ideas, which are very methodically developed. The author, Luis Mexia, or Messia, was a learned theologian and jurist. His object was to draw an interesting and animated picture of the dangers of idleness, the pleasures of occupation, and the value of well directed industry. Notwithstanding the faults inseparable from the class of writing to which this work belongs, it presents the charm of an animated picture conveyed in language, which, though occasionally declamatory, is, upon the whole, pure and elegant.318
2. Historical Prose was, during this period, cultivated by no author in so high a degree as by Diego de Mendoza, whose history of the wars of Granada, has already been particularly mentioned; all the other Spanish historians were inferior to Mendoza in every thing that constitutes the historical art. But they had begun to study that art, in which they would no doubt have distinguished themselves, had they not on the one hand been intimidated by the despotism of the government, and on the other, influenced by a spirit of contradiction, which induced them to banish from genuine history every trace of imaginative colouring, lest they should be confounded with the romance writers of the age.
The historical institution, established by Alphonso the Wise, still subsisted; for the Spanish government was afraid to incur the shame of allowing it to perish. National historiographers or chroniclers were accordingly appointed, and paid in the same manner as formerly; but after the accession of Charles V. those chroniclers could not venture to write with freedom, even in favour of the court party. Charles V. thought it prudent to obliterate as far as possible the recollection of the powerful opposition he had experienced on his succession to the Spanish crown. His chronicler, Florian de Ocampo, was a man of talent and information; and these qualifications soon enabled him to perceive the necessity of protracting as much as possible the duty assigned to the old Spanish chroniclers of writing the history of their own age. Fortunately for him there existed at that period no ancient history of Spain; and this was a subject on which he could enter, without fear or constraint, while, at the same time, it afforded scope for a singular display of erudition. Ocampo accordingly wrote his five books of a General Chronicle of Spain. By the selection of this deceiving title, Ocampo appeared to be fulfilling the duties of his office; but the five books of his General Chronicle contain nothing more than the history of ancient Hispania, from the deluge to the second punic war.319 The work is not badly written, though it presents nothing particularly attractive either in the style or in the handling of the subject. Ocampo selected his materials chiefly from the ancient authors, with whom he must have been intimately acquainted; but as far as relates to historical art he avoided imitating his classical models, because, as he says, he was afraid to substitute for truth “the rhetorical flourishes and vanities, which appear in other books of the present time.”320 Like some German historians, he seems to have prided himself in his dulness.
Those truths which dared not be publicly told in the reign of Charles V. still remained secrets under the government of Philip II. But even the latter monarch did not suffer the office of national chronicler to be discontinued; and he nominated a particular historiographer for the provinces of Castile, and another for those of Arragon. The learned Ambrosio de Morales, who took so lively an interest in the advancement of the rhetorical art, was, as has already been mentioned, appointed chronicler for the Castilian provinces. But with all his talent and information, Morales was not the man precisely calculated to occupy this situation, had he wished strictly to discharge its duties. He had little taste for politics, and modern history was not the branch of literature in the cultivation of which he was likely to find the employment best suited to his talents. He therefore could do nothing which better accorded with his own inclination, and the circumstances in which he was placed, than to follow the footsteps of Ocampo, and to continue the ancient history of Spain from the second punic war to the establishment of christianity.321 He vied with his predecessor in research and erudition; while, at the same time, he devoted far more attention to composition and style. In his preface, he states that he availed himself of this opportunity of proving the dignity and majesty of the Spanish language; and in that respect he rose far superior to the usual chronicle style. In point of elegance, however, he did not equal cardinal Bembo, while he really had no more idea than that author, of the soul of the historical art, of which elegance is merely an accessary.322 Towards the close of his work, when he came to the christian ages, his zeal induced him to insert the lives of the saints of Spanish origin; and certainly no writer before his time ever gave to that description of biography so much elegance and historical dignity. Indeed the simplicity to which Morales was always faithful, is a remarkable feature in the works of an author who was so ambitious of distinguishing himself by his style.
There appeared, however, at this time, another author, who might have become, if not the Livy, at least the Machiavell of Spain, had he been placed in more favourable circumstances, and been disposed to devote himself to the rhetorical cultivation of his talent for historical composition. He was a native of Arragon, and his name was Geronymo Zurita, Surita or Curita, for it is written in these different ways. Philip II. appointed him historiographer of the Arragonian provinces, an office which he was well qualified to fill. Like all educated Arragonese, he wrote Castilian with as much facility as his mother tongue. As a politician, however, he entertained views respecting the practical application of history, which though clear and well founded, were not likely to be very acceptable to a despotic sovereign. Zurita undertook, not merely the tedious task of exploring the old chronicles and records, to which he had access, in order to produce a complete history of the kingdom of Arragon, from the Moorish invasion to the reign of Charles V. he was moreover desirous that his historical labour should exhibit a faithful view of the rise and formation of the national constitution of Arragon. The modern historian, who may wish to investigate this particular point, ought to resort to the pages of Zurita, for it will be difficult for him to find a more instructive author. Zurita gave to his historical work the title of Annals,323 which he conceived to be more appropriate than that of chronicle. But he felt the difficulty of the task he had undertaken, when he attempted to develope the republican principles of the Arragonian provinces, and at the same time to do homage to the caprice of an absolute monarch. He must necessarily have written this part of his work in the total absence of inspiration, for the only practical conclusion he draws from his researches is the trite maxim, “that subjects ought to be content if peace and tranquillity prevail in the country in which they live;”324 and it must be confessed that for peace and tranquillity, in a certain sense, Philip II. with the help of the Duke of Alba and the inquisition, had sufficiently provided. But in order to judge how Zurita would have written, had he been permitted to write freely, the grounds of the decision must be collected only from detached passages of his work. His execution indeed is not so inviting as to excite a strong desire for the perusal of the whole. He seems during his laborious researches unconsciously to have imbibed the formal style of the chroniclers, their constantly recurring and not excepted; while he did not allow himself time to separate the important from the unimportant, and by a judicious distribution of his materials to compose a pleasing historical picture. In a literary contest, which arose respecting the merits and defects of these Annals of Arragon, their value, in a rhetorical point of view, was never taken into consideration.
3. Oratorical Prose.—To other classes of prose writing, the Spaniards at this time devoted but little attention; but two printed discourses by Perez de Oliva well deserve to be more generally known. The one was delivered at the request of a society of patriotic citizens of Cordova, and it relates to the advantages to be derived from the navigation of the Guadalquivir. In the first part of this discourse, the learned orator certainly wanders far from his subject, for he speaks of the Greeks and Romans, and even of the Trojan war; but the second part contains a view of the business in hand, which is vigorously unfolded, full of sound sense, and divested of all affectation and pedantry. The second discourse promises but little, for it is merely described as an academic occasional and defensive address; but it contains a very good explanation of the literary duties of a professor of moral philosophy, together with some particulars respecting the literary life of the author, which are related in an excellent oratorical style.325
4. Of the Epistolary Prose of this age but few printed specimens exist; and it may be presumed that the Spaniards could not experience much pleasure in written correspondence, after their epistolary style had, like that of their social conversation, become subject to the restraint of the ceremonial forms with which the Italians and the Germans were about the same time infected. With whatever ease vuessa merced (your grace or your worship) especially when contracted in conversation into usté, might glide, as a mere form of courtesy through Spanish lips, its frequent occurrence could not fail to have a very embarrassing effect in the periods of familiar letters. This formula which every man of education employed in addressing his equals, exhibits a striking contrast to the higher ceremonial style, which the king himself observed in corresponding with his relatives. Among the Spanish epistolary documents of the sixteenth century, there has been preserved a letter from Philip II. to his natural brother, Don John of Austria. This letter appears to be a kind of supplement, written by the king himself, to the commission by which Don John was appointed high admiral of the Spanish fleets (capitan general de la mar). The king with old Spanish cordiality calls Don John, “brother,” (hermano), without any other title; and when he addresses him in the course of the letter, he uses the pronoun you, after the old fashion. In reminding his natural brother of his duties, he recommends to him integrity, as next in importance to religion.326
There is also preserved a letter from the Duke of Alba, of odious celebrity, to Don John of Austria. It contains military instructions expressed with precision and dignified simplicity; but the style is encumbered by the repetition of titles. Both letters are contained in a collection published by the diligent Gregorio Mayans y Siscar.327
SPANISH CRITICISM DURING THE PERIOD OF THIS SECTION.
It would scarcely be worth while to say any thing relative to Spanish criticism during the period this section embraces, were it not that among the books of instruction on poetry and rhetoric which then appeared, there was one, which besides being extraordinary for the age in which it was produced, may be regarded as the first of its kind in modern literature. It is entitled, the Philosophy of the Ancient Style of Poetry, which in Spanish is somewhat fantastically expressed, Philosophia Antigua Poetica. This work is the production of Alonzo Lopez Pinciano, physician to Charles V. who as has been mentioned, was likewise the author of an unsuccessful heroic poem.328 Though Pinciano possessed few qualifications for a poet, he had nevertheless conceived the idea of writing an Art of Poetry, which should be something more than a mere introduction to versification and instructions relative to correct and figurative expression. Speculations on the elements of poetry constituted his chief occupation, when relieved from the duties of his profession. He had so carefully studied Aristotle’s Art of Poetry, and so attentively compared it with the other writings of the same author, that of all the admirers of that work, he was probably the first who discovered its imperfection. He says—“what is called Aristotle’s Art of Poetry cannot, if rightly understood, be regarded in any other light than as a fragment; for Aristotle, in various passages of his other works, refers to a second part of this Art of Poetry, which is lost.” Pinciano’s conjectures respecting the contents of the lost part, and its connection with the fragment now existing, have, it is true, been contradicted by more modern critics; but this physician was nevertheless the first to observe that imperfection which had escaped the notice of all previous philologists and commentators on Aristotle. He remarks, that the philologists and commentators have written very learned works; which, however, are as imperfect as the text which they elucidate. With the view of restoring poetry to its ancient dignity, and establishing and developing its true spirit, Lopez Pinciano commences with an Analysis of the Wants of Human Nature. He treats minutely of the senses, of the affections, the faculties of the soul, wisdom, and the pleasures peculiar to cultivated minds, but always with reference to the works of Aristotle, whom, like other writers of that age, he merely designates by the title of the philosopher. Like Aristotle, he makes imitation the essence of poetry; but with a particular and more precise definition of what in his opinion constitutes poetic imitation. He then enters upon reflections concerning poetic language, and gives a detailed theory of the several kinds of poetry. The present, however, is not the proper place to present an explanation of this theory. Whenever Lopez Pinciano abandons Aristotle, his notions respecting the different poetic styles are as confused as those of his contemporaries; and only a few of his notions and distinctions can be deemed of importance at the present day. But his name is deserving of honourable remembrance, for he was the first writer of modern times who endeavoured to establish a philosophic art of poetry; and with all his veneration for Aristotle, he was the first scholar who ventured to think for himself, and to go somewhat further than his master. He also evinced a laudable perseverance in the execution of his task. Pinciano’s learned and ingenious work was not quite so useful as it might have been, owing in a great measure to its artificial and formal manner of composition, which, however, the author considered singularly easy and natural. This Art of Poetry is written in the form of letters, (which was in itself a novelty at that age), and in these letters, conversations are occasionally introduced. The friend who answers, invariably gives an abstract of the letter he has last received, as a proof that he understands its contents and its object. Lopez Pinciano, however, cannot be regarded as a model in epistolary and conversational prose any more than in poetry.
The authors of the other arts of poetry which appeared about this time in the Spanish language, merely confined themselves to the explanation of metrical forms and the establishment of subordinate principles. Among these authors were Sanchez de Viena, Geronymo de Mondragon, and Juan Diaz.329 An Art of Poetry of the same description in verse, by Juan de la Cueva, has already been mentioned. From a philosophic treatise of this kind, Spanish poetry could derive no advantage, unless its origin had been totally different from what it really was. Theories, even the most popular, can contribute only in a very slight degree to the formation of the poetic genius, either of nations or individuals.
Several works on the art of rhetoric, in which the principles of Aristotle were followed, appeared about this time in Spain; but they produced nothing valuable with respect to theory, and exercised no remarkable influence on the improvement of Spanish prose.
SECOND SECTION.
History of Spanish Poetry and Eloquence, from the
Age of Cervantes and Lope de Vega to the
Middle of the Seventeenth Century.
Spanish literature had now assumed a new character. Classical poets wrote in the Castilian language; and elegant prose was cultivated with equal rapidity and success on the model of the ancients. No great advantage could henceforth be derived from the imitation of the Italian poets, for the genius of the Spanish nation had well nigh decided how far and under what limitations the Italian poetry could be naturalized in Spain. But laurels were yet to be gathered on the new Parnassus; and the conflict between the ancient and modern styles, had, through the disputes of the different parties, who sought to rule the Spanish drama, at length arrived at a crisis. Under these circumstances, Cervantes and Lope de Vega entered upon the career which their predecessors had opened for them.
CERVANTES.
The life of this extraordinary man, whom, for the space of two centuries, civilized Europe has admired above every other Spanish writer, has been so frequently related, that a brief abstract of his biography, derived from the most authentic sources, will be sufficient for the purpose of this history.330
It is a singular fact, that the contemporaries of this celebrated man, whom every town, not merely in Spain, but throughout the world, would be proud to have produced, should have neglected to record his native place. After long investigations and warm disputes, which call to mind the contests of the seven Greek towns, for the honour of having given birth to Homer, it is at length agreed that the greatest share of probability belongs to the conjecture, according to which Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra was born at Alcalà de Henàres in the year 1547. His parents, who were not rich, were merely enabled to give him a moderate, but at the same time a literary education. They sent him to the schools of Madrid, where he acquired some knowledge of classical learning. At Madrid he had an opportunity of witnessing the dramas which the ingenious Lope de Rueda represented on his wretched stage. Juan Lopez, the tutor of Cervantes, was an indefatigable writer of poetry, particularly of romances, and he sought every means of cherishing his pupils’ taste for poetic composition. Some verses by Cervantes were introduced in a description of the funeral of a Spanish princess, which Lopez published in 1569.
But young Cervantes, who had now attained his twenty-second year, seems to have had no certain means of gaining a subsistence. He wrote numerous romances and sonnets; and it was probably about this period that he composed a pastoral romance, entitled Filena, which, if we may give credit to his own testimony, was very generally read.331 It appears that he thought he could better his condition by travelling; and he resolved to proceed to Italy. Here commences the period of his adventures. In Rome, cardinal Acquaviva for a short time became his patron and protector. But impelled either by necessity or choice, he entered into the military profession. He enlisted under the banners of his sovereign, to serve in the wars against the Turks and African corsairs, who at that time disturbed the tranquillity of Spain and Italy. During the war he proved himself to be wholly devoted to his new profession; but being engaged in the great battle of Lepanto, in 1572, he received a wound which deprived him of his left hand together with a part of the arm. This honourable mutilation, to which he proudly alludes in his latter writings, obliged him to return to Spain. The ship, however, in which he had embarked, was captured by an Algerine corsair, and Cervantes was conveyed to Algiers and sold for a slave. His captivity which lasted for nearly eight years, must have been of the most romantic description, if the fact be, as has frequently been conjectured, that Cervantes described his own adventures in the novel of the Captive.332 He was at length ransomed, and in the year 1581 he returned to his native country.
The third period of the life of Cervantes was exclusively devoted to literature. He had now attained his thirty-second year, and with a matured understanding, joined to considerable practical knowledge of the world, and an ardent passion for literature, he resolved to withdraw from the busy scene of life. In his retirement he wrote his second pastoral romance, entitled Galatea, which has so eclipsed Filena, that the latter is quite neglected and forgotten. He shortly afterwards married, and in all probability lived for some time on his wife’s dowry. At length he began to write for the stage; but the dramas which he composed at this period of his life, though about thirty in number, are nearly all lost.333—About this time arose the rivalry between Cervantes and Lope de Vega, whose dramas were so much admired that they bore away the palm of public favour. Mortified, as it would appear, by the ill success of his dramatic efforts, Cervantes laid aside his pen for a considerable period. It is conjectured, that in the meanwhile he obtained a post in Seville, the emoluments of which enabled him to subsist. He did not again appear in the literary world until the death of Philip II. in the year 1598.
It can scarcely be doubted, though no Spanish writer has made the conjecture, that the death of Philip II. had a favourable influence on the genius of Cervantes. After the accession of the indolent Philip III. every man in Spain felt that he might then have more freedom than he dared to take during the gloomy intolerance of the preceding reign. The Spaniards now ventured to sport with the chains which they had not the power to break, and delicate satire was soon freely employed. Cervantes quickly found a subject for ridicule, in an outrageous contest which arose in Seville between the spiritual and municipal authorities, concerning the funeral obsequies of the deceased monarch. There is reason to believe that he composed, about the same period, some of the Instructive Novels (Novelas Exemplares), which he subsequently published. What accident gave rise to the idea of his Don Quixote is unknown; for his having, while travelling through the province of la Mancha, become engaged in disputes with some of the inhabitants, and his being on that account for a short time imprisoned, can at most be only supposed to have suggested the idea of making that province the scene of the first part of his romance. Some fortunate circumstance, which cannot now be traced, seems to have impressed Cervantes, who was then in his fiftieth year, with the consciousness of the true bent of his genius. The commencement of Don Quixote was first published at Madrid, in 1606; but the enthusiastic reception which this original romance experienced from the Spanish public, produced very little change in the author’s fortune; for the folly which felt itself disturbed in its security united with envy in seeking to discover the most offensive allusions in the work. Cervantes accordingly continued poor, and had now to contend with exasperated enemies, who imagined they had completely defeated him, when an unknown writer of their own party, under the name of Avellaneda, published a continuation of Don Quixote, full of invective against the original author. Precisely at the period when this continuation appeared, Cervantes published the sequel of his Instructive Novels, which he dedicated to the Count of Lemos. In that nobleman he found a protector who never withdrew his favour, and who, as it appears, afforded him support in various ways. Pecuniary necessity seems, however, to have urged him, as a last resource, to write for the stage.
The latest works of Cervantes, were the genuine continuation and completion of Don Quixote, the Journey to Parnassus, which was first published in 1614, and finally the romance of Persiles and Sigismunda, for which, a few days previous to his death, he wrote a dedication to the Count of Lemos. From various passages in the prefaces and introductions to these last works, it is obvious how highly Cervantes prized that celebrity which, after many abortive efforts, he had at length obtained in his old age. But even where his vanity is not disguised, it is easy, from the candid tone in which he speaks of himself, to recognize the man of firm and upright spirit, the declared enemy of every sort of affectation, and the honest and liberal judge of himself and others. He died in poverty, though not in extreme want, at Madrid, in 1616, in the sixty-ninth year of his age. He was buried privately, without any kind of distinction, and not even a common tomb-stone marks the spot where the ashes of Cervantes repose.
Were we to arrange the works of Cervantes according to their merits, the first place must be assigned to Don Quixote, which is moreover entitled to the supremacy, inasmuch as it is single in its kind.
To enter into a description of the contents of this universally known master-piece, or to give a circumstantial analysis of its plan, would be equally superfluous. A few words, however, on the happy and original idea which forms the foundation of the whole work may here be introduced. It has often been said, though the opinion has, perhaps, not been fully weighed, nor even expressed with sufficient precision, that the venerable knight of La Mancha is the immortal representative of all men of exalted imagination, who carry the noblest enthusiasm to a pitch of folly; because with understandings in other respects sound, they are unable to resist the fascinating power of a self-deception, by which they are induced to regard themselves as beings of a superior order. None but an experienced observer of mankind, endowed with profound judgment, and a genius to the penetrating glance of which one of the most interesting recesses of the human heart had been newly disclosed, could have seized the idea of such a romance with energetic decision. None but a poet and a man of wit could have thrown so much poetic interest into the execution of that idea; and none but an author who had at his disposal all the richness and variety of one of the finest languages in the world, could have diffused over such a work that classical perfection of expression, which gives the stamp of excellence to the whole. The originality of the idea of Don Quixote is not only historically demonstrated, by no romance of a similar kind having previously existed—for pictures of ingenious roguery in the style of Lazarillo de Tormes, belong to a totally different species of comic romance—but it is also physiologically certain, that a creative fancy, which was only capable of continuing to invent where another had stopt, could not, with the boldness of Cervantes, have combined traits, apparently heterogeneous, in order thereby to exhaust to the utmost the idea by which he was inspired. Those who are acquainted with Don Quixote only through the medium of the common translations, will not certainly be inclined to regard it as a work of inspiration, in the highest sense of the word. But it is impossible to form a more mistaken notion of this work, than to consider it merely as a satire, intended by the author to ridicule the absurd passion for reading old romances of chivalry. Doubtless this is one of the objects which Cervantes had in view; for among the romances which the Spanish public indefatigably perused, few were tolerable, and only one or two possessed first-rate merit. We must not, however, attribute to him the absurd conceit of wishing to prove the prejudicial influence, which the reading of bad romances produced on the taste of the Spanish nation, by exhibiting the individual folly of an enthusiast, who would have been just as likely to have lost his senses by the study of Plato or Aristotle, as by the reading of romances of chivalry. The merit and the richness of the idea of a man of elevated character, excited by heroic and enthusiastic feelings to the extravagant pitch of wishing to restore the age of chivalry, must be regarded as the seed of inspiration whence the whole work originated. As a poet, Cervantes was aware of the resources which this idea furnished; and he must also have been satisfied with his power to prosecute it, as he has proved in the execution what he was capable of accomplishing. In the invention of a series of comic situations in the most burlesque style, he found full scope for the exercise of his fancy. The painting of these situations afforded opportunities for the free and energetic developement of his poetic talent. Finally, he knew how to combine the knowledge of human nature, which he had acquired during a life of fifty years, with the most delicate satire, so as to render his comic romance also a book of moral instruction, to which no parallel existed. These brief remarks on the idea which forms the foundation of the romance of Don Quixote, must be allowed to supply the place of a detailed analysis of the manner in which that celebrated work is composed. Other critics have sufficiently proved that the composition is by no means faultless. In the preface to the second part, Cervantes has himself pointed out some inadvertences which produce incongruities in the history, but he disdained to correct them, because he conceived that they had been too severely condemned.
The character of the execution of this comic romance, is no less original than the invention. Character in the strictest sense of the term is here meant. The superficial sketches of a sportive fancy, for which the Spaniards in the age of Cervantes entertained so high a predilection, had not sufficient interest for him. He felt a passion for the vivid painting of character, as all his successful works prove. Under the influence of this feeling, he not only drew the natural and striking portrait of his heroic Don Quixote, so truly noble-minded, and so enthusiastic an admirer of every thing good and great, yet having all those fine qualities, accidentally blended with a relative kind of madness; but he likewise pourtrayed, with no less fidelity, the opposite character of Sancho Panza, a compound of grossness and simplicity, whose low selfishness leads him to place blind confidence in all the extravagant hopes and promises of his master. The subordinate characters of the great picture exhibit equal truth and decision: but the characteristic tone of the whole is still more remarkable. A translator cannot commit a more serious injury to Don Quixote, than to dress that work in a light anecdotical style. A style perfectly unostentatious and free from affectation, but at the same time solemn, and penetrated, as it were, with the character of the hero, diffuses over this comic romance an imposing air, which, were it not so appropriate, would seem to belong exclusively to serious works, and which is certainly difficult to be seized in a translation. But it is precisely this solemnity of language, which imparts a characteristic relief to the comic scenes. It is the genuine style of the old romances of chivalry, improved and applied in a totally original way; and only where the dialogue style occurs is each person found to speak, as he might be expected to do, and in his own peculiar manner. But wherever Don Quixote himself harangues, the language re-assumes the venerable tone of the romance style;334 and various uncommon expressions of which the hero avails himself, serve to complete the delusion of his covetous squire, to whom they are only half intelligible.335 This characteristic tone diffuses over the whole a poetic colouring, which distinguishes Don Quixote from all comic romances in the ordinary style; and that poetic colouring is moreover heightened by the judicious choice of episodes. The essential connection of these episodes with the whole has sometimes escaped the observation of critics, who have regarded, as merely parenthetical, those parts in which Cervantes has most decidedly manifested the poetic spirit of his work. The novel of El Curioso Impertinente, cannot indeed be ranked among the number of these essential episodes; but the charming story of the shepherdess Marcella, the history of Dorothea, and the history of the rich Camacho and the poor Basilio, are unquestionably connected with the interest of the whole. These serious romantic parts, which are not, it is true, essential to the historical connection, but strictly belong to the characteristic dignity of the whole picture, also prove how far Cervantes was from the idea usually attributed to him of writing a book merely to excite laughter. The passages which common readers feel inclined to pass over, are, in general, precisely those in which Cervantes has shewn himself more a poet, and for which he has manifested an evident predilection. On such occasions he also introduces among his prose, episodical verses, which are for the most part excellent in their kind, and which no translator can omit without doing violence to the spirit of the original.
Were it not for the happy art with which Cervantes has contrived to preserve an intermediate tone between pure poetry and prose, Don Quixote would not deserve to be cited as the first classic model of the modern romance or novel. It is, however, fully entitled to that distinction. Cervantes was the first writer who formed the genuine romance of modern times on the model of the original chivalrous romance, that equivocal creation of the genius and the barbarous taste of the middle ages. The result has proved that modern taste, however readily it may in other respects conform to the rules of the antique, nevertheless requires in the narration of fictitious events, a certain union of poetry with prose which was unknown to the Greeks and Romans in their best literary ages. It was only necessary to seize on the right tone, but that was a point of delicacy which the inventors of romances of chivalry were not able to comprehend. Diego de Mendoza, in his Lazarillo de Tormes, departed too far from poetry. Cervantes, in his Don Quixote, restored to the poetic art the place it was entitled to hold in this class of writing: and he must not be blamed if cultivated nations have subsequently mistaken the true spirit of his work, because their own novelists had led them to regard common prose as the style peculiarly suited to romance composition. Don Quixote is moreover the undoubted prototype of the comic novel. The humorous situations are, it is true, almost all burlesque, which was certainly not necessary, but the satire is frequently so delicate, that it escapes rather than obtrudes on unpractised attention; as for example in the whole picture of the administration of Sancho Panza in his imaginary island. Besides, the language even in the description of the most burlesque situations, never degenerates into vulgarity. Throughout the whole work it is in general noble, correct, and so highly polished, that it would not disgrace even an ancient classic of the first rank.336 This explanation of a part of the merits of a work, which has been so often wrongly judged, may, perhaps, seem to belong rather to the eulogist than the calm and impartial historian. Let those who may be inclined to form this opinion, study Don Quixote in the original language, and study it rightly, for it is not a book to be judged by a superficial perusal. But care must be taken that the intervention of many subordinate traits, which were intended to have only a transient national interest, does not produce an error in the estimate of the whole.
It would be scarcely possible to arrange the other works of Cervantes according to a critical judgment of their importance; for the merits of some consist in the admirable finish of the whole, while others exhibit the impress of genius in the invention, or some other individual feature. A distinguished place must, however, be assigned to the Novelas Exemplares (Moral or Instructive Tales.) They are unequal in merit as well as in character. Cervantes, doubtless, intended that they should be to the Spaniards nearly what the novels of Boccacio were to the Italians: some are mere anecdotes, some are romances in miniature, some are serious, some comic, and all are written in a light, smooth, conversational style. With regard to the practical knowledge which these novels are intended to convey to the reader, Cervantes has effected more than Boccacio; and at all events he extended the literature of his country by their publication, for no similar compositions had previously existed in the Spanish language. In them Cervantes has again proved himself the experienced judge of mankind, and has given, with admirable success, truly genuine and judicious representations of nature, in the various situations of real life. The reader must naturally feel inclined to pardon the want of plan which this little collection of novels occasionally exhibits, when he finds that the author through the medium of his characters relates and describes all that he had himself seen and experienced under similar circumstances, particularly during his abode in Italy and Africa. The history of the Licenciado Vidriera, (the Glass Licentiate) which is the fifth in the collection, is totally destitute of plan, and is related in simple prose like a common anecdote. But the novel of La Gitanilla, (the Gipsey Girl) is ingeniously conceived and poetically coloured; and the same may be said of some others. The story of Rinconete y Cortadilla, or the Lurker and the Cutter, as the names with reference to their etymology may be translated,337 is a comic romance in miniature.
Galatea, the pastoral romance which Cervantes wrote in his youth, is a happy imitation of the Diana of Montemayor, but exhibiting a still closer resemblance to Gil Polo’s continuation of that poem.338 Next to Don Quixote and the Novelas Exemplares, this pastoral romance is particularly worthy of attention, as it manifests in a striking way the poetic direction in which the genius of Cervantes moved even at an early period of life, and from which he never entirely departed in his subsequent writings. As, however, the Galatea possesses but little originality, it constantly excites the recollection of its models, and particularly of the Diana of Gil Polo. Of the invention of the fable likewise, but little can be said, for though the story is continued through six books, it is still incomplete. In composing this pastoral romance, Cervantes seems to have had no other object than to clothe in the popular garb of a tale, a rich collection of poems in the old Spanish and Italian styles, which he could not have presented to the public under a more agreeable form. The story is merely the thread which holds the beautiful garland together; for the poems are the portion of the work most particularly deserving attention. They are as numerous as they are various: and should the title of Cervantes to rank, with respect to verse as well as to prose, among the most eminent poets, or his originality in versified composition, be called in question, an attentive perusal of the romance of Galatea must banish every doubt on these points. It was remarked by the contemporaries of Cervantes that he was incapable of writing poetry, and that he could compose only beautiful prose; but that observation had reference solely to his dramatic works. Every critic, sufficiently acquainted with his lyrical compositions, has rendered justice to their merits. From the romance of Galatea it is obvious that Cervantes composed in all the various kinds of syllabic measure which were used in his time. He even occasionally adopted the old dactylic stanza.339 He appears to have experienced some difficulty in the metrical form of the sonnet, and his essays in that style are by no means numerous;340 but his poems in Italian octaves display the utmost facility; and among the number, the song of Calliope in the last book of the Galatea is remarkable for the graceful ease of the versification.341 In the same manner as Gil Polo in his Diana makes the river Turia pronounce the praises of the celebrated Valencians, the poetic fancy of Cervantes summoned the muse Calliope before the shepherds and shepherdesses, to render solemn homage to those contemporaries whom he esteemed worthy of distinction as poets. But the critic can scarcely venture to place reliance on praises which are dealt out with such profuse liberality. The most beautiful poems in the Galatea are a few in the cancion style, some of which are in iambics,342 and some in trochaic or old Spanish verse.343 Cervantes has here and there indulged in those antiquated and fantastic plays of wit, which at a subsequent period he himself ridiculed.344 The prose of the Galatea, which is in other respects so beautiful, is also occasionally overloaded with a sort of epithetical ostentation.345