The poems of this amiable enthusiast are, according to his own

testimony,[228] for the most part the productions of his youth; but no

other Spanish poet has succeeded in expressing the intense feelings

of the heart under the control of so sound a judgment. It is only by

reference to the pious tranquillity of a cultivated mind wrapt up in

self communion, that the extraordinary correctness of this author’s

style can be explained, for Luis de Leon is, without exception, the

most correct of all the Spanish poets, though he constantly regarded

the metrical clothing of his ideas as a very secondary object. To

use his own language, he wrote poetry rather in fulfilment of his

destiny, than purposely and by dint of study. At an early age he

became intimately acquainted with the odes of Horace, and the elegance

and purity of style which distinguish those compositions made a deep

impression on his imagination. Classical simplicity and dignity were

the models constantly present to his creative fancy. He, however,

appropriated to himself the character of Horace’s poetry, too naturally

ever to incur the danger of servile imitation. He discarded the prolix

style of the canzone, and imitated the brevity of the strophes of

Horace, in romantic syllabic measures and rhymes. More just feeling for

the imitation of the ancients was never evinced by any modern poet. His

odes have, however, a character totally different from those of Horace,

though the sententious air which marks the style of both authors,

imparts to them a deceptive resemblance. The religious austerity of

Luis de Leon’s life was not to be reconciled with the epicurism of

the latin poet; but, notwithstanding this very different disposition

of the mind, it is not surprising that they should have adopted the

same form of poetic expression, for each possessed a fine imagination,

subordinate to the control of a sound understanding. Which of the two

is the superior poet, in the most extended sense of the word, it would

be difficult to determine, as each formed his style by free imitation,

and neither overstepped the boundaries of a certain sphere of practical

observation. Horace’s odes exhibit a superior style of art, and from

the relationship between the thoughts and images, possess a degree of

attraction which is wanting in those of Luis de Leon; but on the other

hand, the latter are the more rich in that natural kind of poetry,

which may be regarded as the overflowing of a pure soul, elevated to

the loftiest regions of moral and religious idealism.[229]

Luis de Leon himself published a collection of his poetic works,

divided into three books. The first, contains his original poems--the

second, translations from some of the ancient classics--and the third,

metrical versions of several of the psalms, and some parts of the book

of Job.

The reader who peruses the poems of Luis de Leon, which are all odes,

in the spirit in which the author wrote them, will fancy himself

transported to a better world. No furious zeal disturbs the gentle

piety that pervades them; no extravagant metaphor destroys the harmony

of the ideas and expression; and no discordant accent breaks the

pleasing melody of the rhythm. The idea of the perishableness of all

earthly things,[230] is united with smiling pictures of nature.[231]

The imitations of Horace are only introduced to aid the poetic light

in which the poet views those objects which were peculiarly interesting

to his contemporaries.[232] One of Luis de Leon’s most celebrated odes

is the _Noche Serena_, but the concluding stanzas do not correspond

with the beauty of the commencement.[233] In the ode to Felipe Ruiz,

the ardent aspiration for heavenly truth is very picturesquely

expressed.[234] But the exalted inspiration and tender enthusiasm in

which Luis de Leon so widely departs from Horace, are most prominently

evinced in his ode on Heavenly Life (_De la Vida del Cielo_). Here

his fancy is bold without launching into extravagant metaphors. What

an etherial effulgence glows through his lyric picture of “the soft

bright region, the meadow of holiness, never blighted by frost, nor

withered by the sun’s rays;--where the good shepherd, his head crowned

with blossoms of purple and white, without either sling or staff,

leads his beloved flock to the sweet pasture covered with everblooming

roses;--where the shepherd, reclining in the shade at noon, blows his

heavenly pipe, whose feeblest tone, should it descend on the ear of the

poet, would transform his whole soul to love.”[235] The ode in which

the genius of the Tagus prophecies to King Roderick the misfortunes of

Spain, is more in Horace’s style, and possesses a very happy uniformity

of character. In some other imitations of a similar kind, the fancy of

the pious poet willingly descends from the heavenly regions. The poems

contained in the first part of the collection are few in number. Those

which Luis de Leon himself inserted, amount only to twenty-seven, and

among them is an indifferent elegy, and a cancion in the Italian style

of not much greater merit. Several other compositions, which he seems

to have rejected, have been recently printed from manuscripts.[236]

The greater portion of the poetic works of Luis de Leon consists of

translations; but these translations form an epoch in the department

of literature to which they belong. Those in the second book of the

collection are the first classical specimens, in modern literature, of

the art of renewing the ancient poetry in modern forms. Luis de Leon

has himself explained the principles by which he was guided in bringing

the ancient poetry within the sphere of the romantic. He endeavoured to

make the ancient poets speak, “as they would have expressed themselves,

had they been born in his own age in Castile, and had they written in

Castilian.”[237] However bold this attempt may appear, and whatever

defects a translation of this kind may present to the eye of the

connoisseur who wishes for a faithful resemblance of the original,

and not a flowery imitation, yet if the validity of the principle be

once admitted, Luis de Leon will be found to have fulfilled all that

the most rigid critic can desire. Besides, it must be considered that

translations of a more literal character would scarcely have found

readers in Spain at that period. Luis de Leon translated Virgil’s

eclogues, partly in tercets, and partly in coplas;[238] a considerable

series of Horace’s odes in the same romantic syllabic measure which

he chose for his own odes;[239]--and a portion of Virgil’s georgics

in stanzas. But the easy flowing style of his Spanish version of

Pindar’s first ode, excels all the rest.[240] To these translations

are also added two imitations of Italian sonnets, which prove that

he succeeded very well in that species of composition, though among

his own original poems there is not a single sonnet. He translated the

psalms of David, according to the rule he had prescribed to himself.

His translations speedily obtained the rank in Spanish literature

to which they were entitled; and they have served as models for all

succeeding versions of Greek and Latin poetry in the Spanish language.

Luis de Leon may indeed be blamed for having thwarted, by the style of

translation which he introduced, all the attempts made to form Spanish

poetry on the model of that of the ancients. But on the other hand, to

his example the Spaniards are indebted for numerous translations of

Greek and Latin poetry, which have all the air of Spanish originals.

If Luis de Leon had not confined his prose writings exclusively to

spiritual subjects, he would doubtless have also exercised a very

decided influence on the rhetorical cultivation of Spain. His sermons

(_oraciones_) are, however, invariably mentioned in terms of praise by

Spanish writers, whenever they allude to the theological literature of

their country.[241] Among his other works intended for edification, The

Woman as she should be, or The Perfect Wife, (_La Perfecta Casada_),

will perhaps be found the most interesting to the untheological class

of readers; though it constantly turns on the positive morality of

Catholicism, and therefore, like every mixed treatise of theology and

morals, is no legitimate specimen of the developement of ideas in the

didactic style.[242]

Luis de Leon terminates the series of distinguished Spanish authors,

who during the first half of the sixteenth century, composed after the

model of the great poets of Italy, or the ancient classics, and who,

by the superiority of their genius, mainly contributed to give a new

character to Spanish poetry. There are, however others, whose poetic

works ought not to be passed over in silence; but to follow the example

of those writers, who have hitherto related the history of Spanish

poetry, without separating subordinate from eminent talent, would be to

prolong an act of injustice. At the same time to the continuation which

must be made of the history of the lyric and pastoral poetry of Spain,

during the first half of the sixteenth century, may be very properly

added some account of a few unsuccessful efforts in epic composition,

and a notice of the further progress of the old national poetry during

the same period.

MINOR SPANISH POETS DURING THE PERIOD OF THIS SECTION, VIZ.

ACUÑA--CETINA--PADILLA--GIL POLO.

Fernando de Acuña, one of the first of the distinguished men who became

the disciples of Boscan and Garcilaso, was of Portuguese extraction,

but born in Madrid, probably about the beginning of the sixteenth

century.[243] He signalized himself in the campaigns of Charles V.

and was also a person of consideration at the court of that monarch.

He lived on terms of intimate friendship with Garcilaso de la Vega,

whom he survived for a considerable period, for it appears that his

death did not take place until the year 1580. He proved his taste for

classical literature by translations and imitations. He paraphrased

in iambic blank verse, several passages from Ovid’s Metamorphoses,

and among the rest, the dispute between Ajax and Ulysses for the arms

of Achilles, in very correct and harmonious language. He likewise

translated some of the Heroides of the same author in tercets. In his

own sonnets, cancions, and elegies, which are replete with sentiment

and grace, it is easy to recognise a poet who successfully laboured

to attain classical elegance of style.[244] He was also one of the

first poets, who, by composing in short strophes, endeavoured to form

an intermediate style between the Italian canzone and the Spanish

cancion.[245]

Gutierre de Cetina is less known, though there is no doubt of his

having lived about the same period, as he is mentioned by Herrera

in his Commentary on the Works of Garcilaso. He was, like Herrera,

a native of Seville; and having removed to Madrid, was there

invested with an ecclesiastical dignity. Few of his poems have been

printed;[246] but from those few it is obvious that he had a fair

chance of becoming the Anacreon of Spain. That glory, however, was

reserved for Villegas. Still Gutierre de Cetina’s imitations of the

anacreontic style are not without their share of sweetness and grace;

and they are moreover remarkable as being the first productions in the

class to which they belong.[247] His madrigals also seem to have had no

prototype in Spanish literature.[248] In his canciones, however, the

romantic enthusiasm occasionally degenerates into absurdity.[249]

Pedro do Padilla, a knight of the spiritual order of St. Jago, must

be ranked in the same class with Gutierre. He vied with Garcilaso in

pastoral poetry; and in order to conciliate the partizans of both the

old and the new styles, he introduced alternately in the same eclogue

the Italian and the ancient Spanish metres.[250] His poetry is still

esteemed in Spain. He followed the old national custom by making the

events connected with the war in the Netherlands serve as subjects for

romances.[251]

But a poet still more celebrated, and in a great degree indebted for

his fame to the immoderate encomium bestowed upon him by the pen of

Cervantes, is Gaspar Gil Polo, a native of Valencia, who continued

and concluded Montemayor’s Diana under the title of _La Diana

enamorada_.[252] A continuation of this pastoral romance had previously

been undertaken by a writer named Perez; but without success. Gil

Polo in one respect effected more than did Montemayor himself; but in

point of invention he is inferior, notwithstanding the faults of the

original plan. After Sireno has been cured of his love by the sage

Felicia, Gil Polo makes the passion of Diana revive, and renders her

more unhappy for Sireno’s sake, than he had previously been for hers.

Thus the romantic story is reversed; but the new relations under which

it now appears are few. In the sequel the aid of the sage Felicia is

again obtained, and she finally unites the long separated lovers.

The narrative style in the prose portion of the romance presents a

very correct imitation of Montemayor; but neither the merit of this

imitation, nor the continuation of the metaphysical reflections on

love, with which the romance is interspersed, would have gained for Gil

Polo the approbation of the critic. What must have raised him higher

than Montemayor in the estimation of such a judge as Cervantes, is

the precision and clearness of the ideas, and the perfect polish of

style in the poetic part of the romance. Montemayor has often indulged

in too subtle or sophistical plays of wit. Gil Polo in painting the

feelings has exercised a sounder judgment, without, however, descending

to the coldness of prose. His sonnets may be regarded as models;

for he has succeeded in combining the unity of ideas, which ought

to distinguish that species of composition, with the most elegant

rounding and regularity of structure.[253] In his canciones he has

occasionally, for the sake of variety, imitated the Provençal rhymes

(_rimas Provenzales_) with such happy dexterity, that the reader might

fancy himself perusing some of the best opera songs, though no such

thing as an opera then existed.[254] In like manner, he endeavoured to

naturalize the metrical structure of French verse (_rimas Franceses_)

in the Spanish language, upon which the burthen of alexandrines

had already been inflicted.[255] In compliment to the old Spanish

taste, he bedecked his romance with a profusion of versified riddles

(_preguntas_,) which are, for the most part, so exceedingly dull, that

it is difficult to conceive how they could be endured by a man of Gil

Polo’s talent.[256] In honour of Valencia, his native city, he composed

a poem, in which the genius of the little river Turia is made to sing

the praises of the celebrated men to whom Valencia had given birth.

This song of Turia (_Canto de Turia_) has found patriotic commentators,

without whose laborious explanations it would have been unintelligible

to foreign readers.[257]

OBSTACLES TO THE IMITATION OF THE ROMANTIC EPOPEE IN

SPAIN--UNSUCCESSFUL ESSAYS IN SERIOUS EPOPEE--TRANSLATIONS OF

CLASSICAL EPIC POETRY.

Though Spanish literature was in the manner just recorded, enriched

during half a century by numerous lyric and pastoral compositions,

which deserve to be handed down with honour to posterity, yet within

the same interval epic poetry made but little advancement in Spain.

Early in this period the absurd name of idyls (_idyllios_) appears

to have been applied to such narrative poems as were not romances,

and to have marked out a particular field for a kind of poetic tales,

which were in some measure imitations from the ancients, and yet

were executed in the romantic style. Such, for example, was Boscan’s

free translation of the story of Hero and Leander from Musæus, which

the Spaniards call their first idyl. Thus the term idyls in Spanish,

conveys no idea of pastoral poems, which are always called eclogues

(_eglogas_.)[258] Castillejo, of whom further mention will shortly

be made, imitated in old Castilian verse, stories from Ovid, and

gave to them the name of idyls. The spurious heroic style which the

authors of these tales introduced, proved, without doubt, one of the

obstacles to the cultivation of chivalrous epic poetry in Spain; but

it is also to be recollected, that the luxuriant mixture of the comic

with the serious, which is the very soul of the romantic epopee of the

Italians, was by no means congenial to Spanish taste. In Spain the

works of Boyardo and Ariosto were known only through the medium of bad

translations, and were read merely with the interest attached to all

books of chivalry. Finally, the spirit of the old romance poetry was

also hostile to the chivalric epopee. To descend from the cordial

gravity of the national narrative romances, to the careless levity with

which the venerable heroes of chivalry were treated by the Italian

writers, was a transition repugnant to the patriotic feelings of the

Spaniards; who, in their wars with the Italians, were the more disposed

to be proud of the preservation of their national spirit of chivalry,

when they found that it facilitated their victories over men who were

better fitted for intrigue than for defending their freedom sword in

hand. Thus, to the chivalrous epopee of the Italians, the Spaniards

remained as completely strangers, as if they had been excluded from all

opportunity of becoming acquainted with that kind of composition; and

yet the period when the Spaniards and Italians maintained the closest

political and literary relations, precisely corresponds with that

of Ariosto’s first celebrity, and of the numerous imitations of the

_Orlando Furioso_, which appeared in the Italian language.[259]

On the contrary, several Spanish poets, during the first half of the

sixteenth century, zealously competed for the palm in the serious

epopee; but obstacles again arose, which all the force of Spanish

genius was not sufficient to surmount. Torquato Tasso had not yet shewn

what the serious epic was capable of becoming, and what it must be, in

order to be reconciled to the taste of modern times. The Spaniards were

so little prepared for the new poetry with which they had suddenly been

made acquainted on the first imitation of the Italian style, that they

could not be expected to enter without a guide into the true spirit

of the modern epopee. The men, who at this time boldly attempted to

become the Homers of their country, appear to have felt that they could

not select from ancient history the materials for an epic poem. But on

the other hand, their patriotic feelings prepossessed them too much in

favour of events of recent occurrence. The age in which they themselves

lived was, in their eyes, the most illustrious and the most worthy of

epic glory; a Spanish Homer could record no achievements save those

of the Spaniards under Charles V.; and the hero, who in their poems

eclipsed all others, was their favourite Charles, the never conquered,

(_el nunca vencido_,) as he was styled by all the Spanish writers of

the sixteenth century. Thus arose the _Caroliads_, or heroic poems,

in praise of Charles V. all of which speedily sunk into oblivion.

Among them were the _Carlos Famoso_, by Luis de Zapata; the _Carlos

Victorioso_, by Geronymo de Urrea; _La Carolea_, by the Valencian poet,

Geronymo Sampèr, &c. Alonzo Lopez, surnamed Pinciano, who flourished

at the commencement of the sixteenth century, was more happy in his

choice of an epic subject. The hero of his story is Pelayo, the brave

descendant of the visigothic kings, who, in his turn, was the first to

subdue the Arabs. But Pinciano’s poem, which he entitled _El Pelayo_,

had no better fate than the Caroliads.[260]

The present seems a fit opportunity for mentioning _La fuente de

Alcover_, a narrative poem, which though of humbler pretensions than

the Caroliads, experienced considerable success. The author, Felipe

Mey, who was of Flemish extraction, was a bookseller in Valencia.

Encouraged by his patron, Antonio Agustin, bishop of Tarragona, he

chose a few stanzas, written by that ingenious prelate, as the ground

work of a mythological poem. The idea originated in the name given to

a plant (_capillus veneris_), through which the water trickling drop

by drop, at length forms a little fountain. This pretty poem makes,

along with some others by Felipe Mey, an appendix to his unfinished

translation of _Ovid’s Metamorphoses_ in octave verse. It deserves also

to be mentioned, that this translation reads like a modern poem; both

language and versification are excellent.[261]

Some other translations of the ancient classic poets which appeared,

during this period, remain to be noticed. Gonzalo Perez, a native of

Arragon, is the author of a poetic translation of Homer’s Odyssey, in

the Castilian language. The first edition was printed in 1552, and the

second in 1562; so that it seems the Spanish public felt an interest

in this extension of their poetic literature. Gregorio Fernandez

translated the Æneid and several of Virgil’s eclogues in verse; and

in the like manner Juan de Guzman executed a complete version of the

georgics. All these translations, however, like those of Luis de Leon,

must be regarded as re-casts of ancient materials into modern moulds,

rather than translations, in the strict sense of the term. But, in an

age and country, in which both the people and the language were imbued

with the spirit of the romantic poetry, to have attempted to introduce

the classic poets of Greece or Rome in any other way than in a romantic

dress, would have been to do violence to the genius of the language and

the nation.[262]

PROGRESS OF THE ROMANTIC POETRY--CASTILLEJO: HIS CONTEST WITH THE

PARTIZANS OF THE ITALIAN STYLE.

The rapid success of the imitators of the Italian and classic styles,

did not, however, deprive the old romance poetry of its rank, either

in literature or in public estimation. The first half of the sixteenth

century, was doubtless the period when most of the old romances, then

first brought together in collections, received the form which they

have retained down to the present day; and, in all probability, not

less than half the romances and canciones collected in the _Romanceros

generales_, particularly the mythological, anacreontic, and comic

kinds, had no existence previous to that period.

But no poet of that age defended the cause of the old Castilian poetry,

in all its various forms, with so much talent and zeal as Christoval

de Castillejo, the most illustrious of the literary opponents of

the Italian style. Castillejo obtained the post of secretary in

the service of the Emperor Ferdinand I. an appointment which was a

consequence of the relations still subsisting between the courts of

Madrid and Vienna, after the death of Charles V. notwithstanding that

the German empire was then separated from the Spanish monarchy. The

greater part of Castillejo’s poems were written in Vienna; and are

full of allusions to the gay sphere of life in which he moved at the

imperial court. A young German lady, named Schomburg, of whom he seems

to have been an ardent admirer, figures in his poems, under the name of

Xomburg, because nothing like the hissing sound of the German _sch_,

could be expressed by the same characters in the Castilian language.

Advanced in life, and tired of gallantry and the gay world, he returned

to Spain, became a Cistercian monk, and died in a convent in 1596.

The admirers of Castillejo[263] assign to him the first rank among

Spanish poets; but the unprejudiced critic cannot, in justice, elevate

him to so high a station. His poetic horizon was very limited. He was

determined to be nothing but an old Castilian in poetic taste, as in

every thing else. He ridiculed Boscan, Garcilaso, and all the Spanish

poets of the new party, with more wit than judgment.[264] He asserted,

though without foundation, that the old Castilian metres and forms

of rhyme were alone suited to the Castilian language; and for want

of better arguments to urge against the amatory poetry of Italy, he

asserted that all poetry of love was to be regarded as mere raillery,

without reflecting, that in supporting this opinion he cast more

reproach on the old Spaniards than on the Italians.[265] The structure

of Italian verse appeared constrained to a poet, who confounded

rapidity with facility of style. The loose rhythm of the redondillas,

was with him an exclusive beauty of the syllabic structure of his

mother tongue, for he had no taste for a more regular style of poetry;

and some of his happiest productions are limited merely to graceful

plays of the imagination. His fertility in these sports of fancy, could

not fail to obtain for him the esteem of his countrymen, who were

ever too ready to tolerate, and even to admire, the subtle twisting

of quaint and fanciful conceits; but of all other poetic faults, most

reluctant to pardon heaviness of manner, particularly in versification.

Some of Castillejo’s canciones are, however, so exquisite, that it is

scarcely possible to resist the temptation of placing their author in

the very foremost rank of poets.[266] But in spite of his captivating

fluency of style and power of expression, most of his works bear

traces of a mental boundary which every great poet oversteps. A sort

of affected verbosity often usurps the place of real wit, particularly

in his longer poems; and it not unfrequently happens that whole pages

of Castillejo’s flowing verse are to the reader nothing more than

lively prose. The strong inclination to levity, which he cannot resist,

even when he wishes to be serious, is a distinguishing feature in all

the poetic essays of this ingenious author, who has thus sometimes

given to his works more of a French than a Spanish character.

Castillejo arranged his lyric works in three books, and they are so

printed under the title of _Obras Liricas_. Only a small portion of

these poems, however, properly belongs to the lyric class;[267] and

the author doubtless collected them together, under this general

title, for the purpose of distinguishing them from his comedies, which

are but little known. The first book contains amatory poems, (_Obras

amatorias_), songs, jests, epistles, glosses after the old fashion,

and in conclusion, a piece which he styled a (_Capitulo_) on love. The

songs, for the most part, commence in a serious tone,[268] but speedily

assume a comic turn, with which they usually conclude.[269] Some are

burlesque parodies on the affected ecstasies and extravagant metaphors

of the Spanish sonnet writers. Such, for example, is the “Tower of

Lamentation,” or the “Wind Tower,” (_Torre de Viento_,) which is

supposed to be built entirely of lovers’ sighs. Some shorter poems, in

the madrigal style, are among the best in this first book.[270] There

is also an “Exclamatory Epistle,” (_Epistola Exclamatoria_,) the spirit

and style of which are sufficiently indicated by the title. Among the

popular verses which the playful humour of Castillejo prompted him to

gloss in the form of _Villancicos_, is one which merely says, “If you

tend my cows, my love, I will give you a kiss; but give me a kiss and I

will tend yours.”[271] Productions of this description found favour

with the readers for whom they were intended. His humorous poems, which

are all more or less disguised under an air of seriousness, contain

a tale (_historia_) imitated from Ovid, which may be called an idyl

according to the literary terminology of the Spaniards. The second book

contains conversational and diverting pieces, (_obras de conversacion

y de pasatiempo_.) At the commencement appear the railleries of

Castillejo against the Petrarchists. The longest poem in this book is

a Dialogue on Women, (_Dialogo de la Condicion de las Mugeres_,) which

is here and there enlivened by admirable sallies of wit;[272] but upon

the whole it is nothing more than burlesque prose ideas dressed in

easy verse.[273] The third book, which contains moral works, (_obras

morales_,) is most prolix of all. The satires contained in this third

book have certainly a moral tendency, though that object is in a great

measure defeated by Castillejo’s sportive style. The moral is lost in a

torrent of words, while the serious thoughts of which the verse is the

vehicle, are for the most part trivial.[274] Notwithstanding the moral

design of this third book, the Spanish inquisition was for some time

undecided with respect to its fate. The publication of all the poems

of Castillejo was prohibited; but after some further deliberation the

inquisition permitted the sale of an edition, after it had undergone a

rigid revisal by the censor.

HISTORY OF SPANISH DRAMATIC POETRY, DURING THE FIRST HALF AND TEN

SUCCEEDING YEARS OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

In the reign of Charles V. amidst a throng of diversified talent, and

during the conflict between the old and new poetic styles, the Spanish

drama began to flourish. Considered in a literary point of view, it

can scarcely be said to have existed before that period; but it

arose under happier auspices than those which about the same period

accompanied the birth of the Italian drama, to which the struggle

between the learned and the popular burlesque styles afforded less

hope of success. The sacred and profane pastoral dialogues of Juan de

la Enzina were, at the commencement of the sixteenth century, still

the only dramatic compositions in the Spanish language, to which any

degree of literary respect was attached, and they were, by especial

favour, allowed to be performed at court.[275] With the exception of

mysteries, spiritual moralities, and burlesque representations of

religious ceremonies, the Spanish nation, at this time, knew nothing

of dramatic entertainments. No poet of reputation had hitherto devoted

his attention to this species of composition; but the nation evinced

by its attachment to those rude exhibitions, that tenacity which is

a great feature in its character, and which even in matters of taste

permits no reform to take place which does not perfectly accord with

the inclination of the public. This constancy of the national character

must never for a moment be lost sight of, while tracing the history of

the Spanish drama; but even with this peculiar circumstance carefully

kept in view, it is still impossible to give a very satisfactory

account of the early progress of dramatic poetry among the Spaniards;

for the notices which must be resorted to for that purpose, are both

defective and confused.[276]

It is above all things necessary to begin by distinguishing the three

or four parties, which on totally different principles endeavoured

to cultivate dramatic poetry in Spain, and which appear to have been

hitherto overlooked by the writers on Spanish literature, merely

because each of those parties pursued its object, without openly

declaring war against the others. Critical cultivation was not yet so

far advanced in Spain as to open a field for literary warfare. But the

heterogeneous nature of the Spanish dramas of the first half and ten

following years of the sixteenth century, renders it evident, on a very

slight examination, that the authors who composed them must have been

influenced by different views.[277]

The party called the erudite, was the first which at that period

laboured to introduce into Spain a style of dramatic literature, worthy

to be called national. This party consisted of men of information

and taste, though possessing but little knowledge of the true art of

dramatic poetry, and still less of imagination. These men, like a

similar party in Italy, endeavoured to form the modern drama on the

model of the antique. As, however, the most zealous among them did

not possess sufficient talent to imitate the ancient models, they

began to translate them, and performed their task in prose. A Spanish

translation of the Amphitryon of Plautus, by Villalobos, physician to

Charles V. was printed in 1515. Shortly afterwards there appeared a

new translation of the same drama, by Perez de Oliva, a prose writer

of considerable merit, who will be further noticed in the course of

this history. Perez de Oliva even ventured to make a prose version

of the Electra of Sophocles. This unfortunate attempt appeared under

the title of _La Venganza de Agamemnon_.[278] He also translated the

Hecuba of Euripides. At a somewhat later period the Portuguese comedies

of Vasconcellos, written in the manner of Plautus, were published in

the Castilian language. Translations of several comedies of Plautus

subsequently appeared, and at length Pedro Simon de Abril published a

complete translation of Terence, which is still much esteemed by the

Spaniards.[279] Thus it was not the fault of the erudite party that

the Spanish drama did not resemble the ancient. But to introduce in

Spain the tragic style of the classic drama, in all its poetic purity,

or even the style of the ancient comedies in iambic verse, was an idea

which could only have originated with scholars who did not understand

the character of the Spanish public. The translators, therefore, even

those who endeavoured to conciliate the public taste by prose versions,

formed, with their learned friends, a solitary party. No first rate

poet arose in Spain, like Ariosto in Italy, to amuse and instruct the

public by original dramatic compositions on the classic model. It is

possible that essays in the ancient manner may have been performed on

some Spanish stage, particularly at Seville, but they are now totally

lost; and no attempt seems ever to have been made to represent Spanish

translations of Greek and Latin plays.

The party of the dramatic moralists approximated the closest to

that which has just been described. The interlocutory romance of

Cœlestina,[280] or Calistus and Melibœa, poor in invention, but

possessing in its natural descriptions of common life, an attraction

for many readers, was, on account of its moral tendency, admired as

a master-piece of dramatic art. As this dramatic romance was called

a comedy or tragi-comedy, some of its admirers conceived themselves

bound to write comedies and tragi-comedies in the same style for the

moral benefit of society. Whether these productions were, or were not,

calculated for representation, seems never to have been a subject of

consideration with their authors. They were content if the scenes

which they strung together exhibited in natural language the lowest

pictures of common life, and forcibly marked the dangers attendant

on vice. To do this requires only an ordinary share of talent, and

accordingly Cœlestina was followed by a torrent of similar “Mirrors of

Sin” in the Castilian language. The greater number appeared during the

first half of the sixteenth century, or shortly afterwards; and among

them were _Policiana_, entitled a tragedy;[281] _Perseus and Tibaldea_,

a comedy; _De la hechicera_ (of the Witch), a comedy; _Florinea_, a

comedy, &c. The author of a work of this kind, entitled _La Doleria del

Sueño del Mundo_, (the Anguish of the Sleep of the World,) mentions

in his title-page, that it is a comedy in the style of philosophic

morality, (_Comedia tratada por via de philosophia moral_.) All these

insipid moral lessons were read and admired in their day; but their

extreme length prevented them from getting possession of the stage.[282]

Equally removed from the moral and the erudite party, was Bartholomè

Torres Naharro, a man doubtless of extraordinary talent. He was the

founder of a third party, which uniting with a fourth, that had for a

short interval preceded it, ultimately triumphed as the only national

party, and obtained exclusive control over the Spanish drama. It

is a singular circumstance, and yet one to which the historians of

Spanish literature have not called the attention of their readers,

that Cervantes in his comic sketch of the early History of the Spanish

Drama, mentions not a syllable respecting Torres Naharro, while the

editor of Cervantes’s comedies, who has prefixed to them that sketch,

declares, in his preface, Torres Naharro to be the real inventor of the

forms of the Spanish comedy. Torres Naharro was born in the little town

of Torre, on the Portuguese frontiers, and flourished in the beginning

of the sixteenth century. Of the history of his life but little is

known. All accounts, however, agree in describing him to have been an

ecclesiastic and a man of learning. After a shipwreck which involved

him in various adventures, he arrived at Rome during the pontificate of

Leo X. In that friend of genius he found a distinguished patron. It is,

however, extremely improbable, that his comedies were performed before

the pope at Rome, though such an assertion has been made by Spanish

writers, and has given offence to some Italians. It is certainly by no

means likely, that an occurrence so unusual, should have escaped the

notice of all Italian authors; and Pope Leo can scarcely be supposed

to have had any strong inducement to study the Spanish language which

is not agreeable to Italian ears. It is more probable that Naharro’s

comedies were represented in Naples, for there a Spanish audience

was to be found; and Naharro himself proceeded to Naples when the

difficulties into which his satirical writings involved him, obliged

him to quit Rome.

The above are the only particulars that can be obtained respecting

the life of this extraordinary man; and it is not certain how far

they can be relied on, as they are gathered from writers who do not

mention the sources from whence they derived their information.[283]

It is not improbable that Naharro’s comedies were performed only in

Naples, and not in Spain, where there was no theatre suited to their

representation; for according to the account of Cervantes, who speaks

as an eye-witness, the whole apparatus of a Spanish theatre, about the

middle of the sixteenth century, consisted of a few boards and benches,

and a wardrobe, and decorations, which were contained in a sack.

But whatever may have been the fate of the comedies of Naharro, with

respect to the stage in Spain, they were certainly printed along with

the other poetic works of the author, in the year 1521, or at latest

in 1533, under the learned title of _Propaladia_, intended to signify

exercises in the school of Pallas.[284] Judging from the accounts

given of these dramas by various writers, there is very little doubt

that Torres Naharro was the real inventor of the Spanish comedy. He not

only wrote his eight comedies in redondillas in the romance style, but

he also endeavoured to establish the dramatic interest solely on an

ingenious combination of intrigues, without attaching much importance

to the developement of character, or the moral tendency of the story.

It is besides probable, that he was the first who divided plays into

three acts, which being regarded as three days labour in the dramatic

field, were called _jornadas_.[285] It must, therefore, be unreservedly

admitted, that these dramas, considered both with respect to their

spirit and their form, deserve to be ranked as the first in the history

of the Spanish national drama; for in the same path which Torres

Naharro first trod, the dramatic genius of Spain advanced to the point

attained by Calderon, and the nation tolerated no dramas except those

which belonged to the style which had thus been created.

It would appear, however, that there was something in the plays of

Naharro which did not precisely harmonize with the taste of the Spanish

public, for they were banished from literature and thrown into oblivion

by the prose dramas which Cervantes saw represented in his youth. The

author of these pieces, in which songs are sometimes episodically

introduced, was Lope de Rueda, a native of Seville. This man, who was

a gold-beater by trade, and who had received no literary education,

was notwithstanding endowed with a strong genius for the dramatic art.

Cervantes styles him the great Lope de Rueda. He did not compose his

plays in the character of an author. He was at the head of a little

company of players of whom he was himself the ablest; and his own

taste and that of the public required only such pieces as could be

easily represented on his wretched stage which consisted merely of a

few planks of wood. The most prominent characters in Lope de Rueda’s

dramatic compositions, were those which the author himself performed,

and which, according to the testimony of Cervantes, he delineated in

a highly natural style. In fools, roguish servants, biscayan boors,

and such like characters, he particularly excelled. He did not neglect

to avail himself of the accidental union of the Spanish drama with

pastoral poetry, and he wrote some pastoral dialogues (_coloquios

pastoriles_) in prose. On this account his theatrical wardrobe, of

which Cervantes gives a humorous description, contained four shepherds

dresses of white fur, trimmed with gold, an equal number of wigs and

shepherds crooks, and likewise four beards. The beards, it would

appear were indispensable in comedies of every kind; and the public

became so accustomed to call an old man’s part in comedy the _beard_,

that the theatrical term _barba_ was retained even after the custom of

wearing beards had long been exploded from the stage.

Juan Timoneda has made careful collections of the comedies and

pastoral dramas of Lope de Rueda, by which we are enabled to judge

of the literary merit of these works, divested of the advantage

which they must have derived from the living representation of their

author. Timoneda, who was a bookseller in Valencia, was the friend

and enthusiastic admirer of Lope de Rueda; but in regard to literary

acquirements he ranked somewhat higher than that actor. He was indeed

a man of genius and talent, as is evident from his novels, which are

little known, and which have yet to be more particularly noticed in

this work. He printed in small collections, the pastoral dialogues and

plays of Lope de Rueda, making such alterations as were necessary both

in the language and style.[286] These productions equally indicate the

experienced master in the developement of character, and the untutored

pupil of nature following his own caprice. Lope de Rueda’s pastoral

dialogues possess more dignity, if the term may be used, than his

plays, and they are moreover imbued with a certain poetic character

which harmonizes admirably with the songs occasionally introduced. With

regard to invention and style, however, there is but little difference

between the dialogues and the plays, but the pastoral costume of the

dramatis personæ produces a certain heterogeneous effect; for the half

Arcadian, and half Spanish shepherds, are brought in contact with

negresses, barbers, and other characters of common life and modern

stamp. Lope de Rueda was not inattentive to general character, as is

proved by his delineation of old men, clowns, &c. in which he was

particularly successful. But his principal aim was to interweave in

his dramas, a succession of intrigues; and, as he seems to have been a

stranger to the art of producing stage effect by striking situations,

he made complication the great object of his plots. Thus mistakes,

arising from personal resemblances, exchanges of children, and such

like common place subjects of intrigue, form the ground work of his

stories, none of which are remarkable for ingenuity of invention.

There is usually a multitude of characters in his dramas, and jests

and witticisms are freely introduced, but these in general consist of

burlesque disputes in which some clown is engaged.[287]

It would appear that many comedies in Rueda’s style were at one

time acted, though they are now lost to literature. Cervantes, for

instance, praises the perfection to which that style of comic drama

had been brought by a player, named Naharro of Toledo, who must not be

confounded with Torres Naharro. Cervantes informs us, that this Naharro

augmented the theatrical wardrobe so considerably, that it could no

longer be contained in a bag, but was packed up in boxes and chests.

He exploded the custom of dressing the old characters in beards, and

removed the orchestra, which had previously been stationed behind the

scenes, to the front of the stage. He moreover exhibited imitations

of clouds, of thunder and lightning, made other great improvements in

the scenic machinery, (_tramoyas_), and even introduced single combats

and battles on the stage. His name certainly deserves to be preserved

from oblivion; and it is unfortunate that Cervantes has neglected to

mention what kind of poetry or prose was spoken by the actors in these

new dramatic spectacles.

A Spanish author of learning and merit, named Juan de la Cueva, who

lived about this period, seems to have been the first to perceive that

the Spanish drama could never succeed, if men of literary acquirements,

endowed with genius for dramatic composition, continued opposed to

the popular party. This meritorious author was a native of Seville,

which at that time appears to have been the cradle of every kind of

talent. The history of his life is enveloped in obscurity, and his

various writings, in every class of poetry, notwithstanding the praises

which critics have bestowed on them, are, though not totally sunk into

oblivion, very little known.[288] His copious Art of Poetry in tercets,

which was lately, for the first time, published from manuscript,

contains some important information relative to the history of Spanish

poetry. It is, however, merely written in good versified prose, and

pure language, but is in no respect poetical.[289] This Art of Poetry,

if so it must be called, shews, among other things, how numerous was

the party which at that time endeavoured to give to the Spanish drama

the form of the antique. An author, named Malara, a native of Seville,

who was called the Betisian Menander, in allusion to the Betis or

Gaudalquivir, and six other poets of that city, among whom is Gutierre

de Cetina, the celebrated author of several Spanish comedies in the

ancient style, are honourably mentioned by Juan de la Cueva. But this

judicious writer maintained that there were peculiarities in the

ancient drama, which, though excellent in themselves, would not accord

with the spirit of the moderns. The dramatic laws of the ancients had,

in his opinion, ceased to be obligatory; and he conceived it to be

reasonable that dramatic fictions should be accommodated to the taste

of the age and to the circumstances in which they are written.[290]

The Spanish public had already manifested a strong predilection for

plays in the modern style, and an aversion equally decided from all

the imitations of the dramatic works of the ancients. It was therefore

designedly and with a persevering industry that the Spaniards had

struck out for themselves a new course in dramatic literature. In

genius and taste they could only have vied with the Greeks and Romans,

without surpassing them; but invention, grace, ingenious arrangement,

and a certain art of involving and unravelling the plot, which

foreigners could not imitate, were the qualities on which the glory

of the Spanish drama was destined to be founded.[291] Juan de la

Cueva proceeds to state, that on these principles he had no scruple

in contributing to overthrow the ancient boundary between tragedy

and comedy; and to introduce on the stage, for the sake of variety,

characters clad in the rustic peasant’s garb, along with others

attired in the robes of royalty. Thus far he trod in the footsteps of

Torres Naharro. And yet he appears to have had no distinct knowledge

of the writings of that author; for he never mentions them; while, on

the other hand, speaking of his own works, he observes that he had

abandoned the old custom of dividing dramatic pieces into five acts,

and chose in preference the new method, then in vogue, of arranging

them in jornadas.[292] Cervantes must of course have been ignorant

of the decided testimony thus given by Juan de la Cueva, since he

imagines that he was himself the first to introduce the three divisions

of the Spanish drama. The approbation bestowed on Cueva’s dramatic

works, in the new style, seems, however, to have been but feeble and

transitory; and this explains how the editor of Cervantes’s comedies,

in his account of the early history of the Spanish drama, has omitted

to mention the name of Cueva.

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 santos_[293]), 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.