PERIOD FIRST.

FROM THE FIRST APPEARANCE OF THE WRITTEN LANGUAGE TO THE EARLY PART OF THE

REIGN OF CHARLES V. (1200-1500).

1. EARLY NATIONAL LITERATURE.--There are two traits of the earliest

Spanish literature which so peculiarly distinguish it that they deserve to

be noticed from the outset--religious faith and knightly loyalty. The

Spanish national character, as it has existed from the earliest times to

the present day, was formed in that solemn contest which began when the

Moors landed beneath the rock of Gibraltar, and which did not end until

eight centuries after, when the last remnants of the race were driven from

the shores of Spain. During this contest, especially that part of it when

the earliest Spanish poetry appeared, nothing but an invincible faith and

a not less invincible loyalty to their own princes could have sustained

the Christian Spaniards in their struggles against their infidel

oppressors. It was, therefore, a stern necessity which made these two high

qualities elements of the Spanish national character, and it is not

surprising that we find submission to the church and loyalty to the king

constantly breathing through every portion of Spanish literature.

The first monument of the Spanish, or, as it was oftener called, the

Castilian tongue, the most ancient epic in any of the Romance languages,

is "The Poem of the Cid." It consists of more than three thousand lines,

and was probably not composed later than the year 1200. This poem

celebrates the achievements of the great hero of the chivalrous age of

Spain, Rodrigo Diaz (1020-1099), who obtained from five Moorish kings,

whom he had vanquished in battle, the title of El Seid, or my lord. He was

also called by the Spaniards El Campeador or El Cid Campeador, the

Champion or the Lord Champion, and he well deserved the honorable title,

for he passed almost the whole of his life in the field against the

oppressors of his country, and led the conquering arms of the Christians

over nearly a quarter of Spain. No hero has been so universally celebrated

by his countrymen, and poetry and tradition have delighted to attach to

his name a long series of fabulous achievements, which remind us as often

of Amadis and Arthur, as they do of the sober heroes of history. His

memory is so sacredly dear to the Spanish nation, that to say "by the

faith of Rodrigo," is still considered the strongest vow of loyalty.

The poem of the Cid is valuable mainly for the living picture it presents

of manners and character in the eleventh century. It is a contemporary and

spirited exhibition of the chivalrous times of Spain, given occasionally

with an admirable and Homeric simplicity. It is the history of the most

romantic hero of Spanish tradition, continually mingled with domestic and

personal details, that bring the character of the Cid and his age very

near to our own sympathies and interests. The language is the same which

he himself spoke--still only imperfectly developed--it expresses the bold

and original spirit of the time, and the metre and rhyme are rude and

unsettled; but the poem throughout is striking and original, and breathes

everywhere the true Castilian spirit. During the thousand years which

elapsed from the time of the decay of Greek and Roman culture down to the

appearance of the Divine Comedy, no poetry was produced so original in its

tone, or so full of natural feeling, picturesqueness, and energy.

There are a few other poems, anonymous, like that of the Cid, whose

language and style carry them back to the thirteenth century. The next

poetry we meet is by a known author, Gonzalo (1220-1260), a priest

commonly called Berceo, from the place of his birth. His works, all on

religious subjects, amount to more than thirteen thousand lines. His

language shows some advance from that in which the Cid was written, but

the power and movement of that remarkable legend are entirely wanting in

these poems. There is a simple-hearted piety in them, however, that is

very attractive, and in some of them a story-telling spirit that is

occasionally vivid and graphic.

Alfonso, surnamed the Wise (1221-1284), united the crowns of Leon and

Castile, and attracted to his court many of the philosophers and learned

men of the East. He was a poet closely connected with the Provençal

troubadours of his time, and so skilled in astronomy and the occult

sciences that his fame spread throughout Europe. He had more political,

philosophical, and elegant learning than any man of his age, and made

further advances in some of the exact sciences. At one period his

consideration was so great, that he was elected Emperor of Germany; but

his claims were set aside by the subsequent election of Rudolph of

Hapsburg. The last great work undertaken by Alfonso was a kind of code

known as "Las Siete Partidas," or The Seven Parts, from the divisions of

the work itself. This is the most important legislative monument of the

age, and forms a sort of Spanish common law, which, with the decisions

under it, has been the basis of Spanish jurisprudence ever since. Becoming

a part of the Constitution of the State in all Spanish colonies, it has,

from the time Louisiana and Florida were added to the United States,

become in some cases the law in our own country.

The life of Alfonso was full of painful vicissitudes. He was driven from

his throne by factious nobles and a rebellious son, and died in exile,

leaving behind him the reputation of being the wisest fool in Christendom.

Mariana says of him: "He was more fit for letters than for the government

of his subjects; he studied the heavens and watched the stars, but forgot

the earth and lost his kingdom." Yet Alfonso is among the chief founders

of his country's intellectual fame, and he is to be remembered alike for

the great advancement Castilian prose composition made in his hands, for

his poetry, for his astronomical tables--which all the progress of modern

science has not deprived of their value--and for his great work on

legislation, which is at this moment an authority in both hemispheres.

Juan Lorenzo Segura (1176-1250) was the author of a poem containing more

than ten thousand lines, on the history of Alexander the Great. In this

poem the manners and customs of Spain in the thirteenth century are

substituted for those of ancient Greece, and the Macedonian hero is

invested with all the virtues and even equipments of European chivalry.

Don Juan Manuel, (1282-1347), a nephew of Alfonso the Wise, was one of the

most turbulent and dangerous Spanish barons of his time. His life was full

of intrigue and violence, and for thirty years he disturbed his country by

his military and rebellious enterprises. But in all these circumstances,

so adverse to intellectual pursuits, he showed himself worthy of the

family in which for more than a century letters had been honored and

cultivated. Don Juan is known to have written twelve works, but it is

uncertain how many of these are still in existence; only one, "Count

Lucanor," has been placed beyond the reach of accident by being printed.

The Count Lucanor is the most valuable monument of Spanish literature in

the fourteenth century, and one of the earliest prose works in the

Castilian tongue, as the Decameron, which appeared about the same time,

was the first in the Italian. Both are collections of tales; but the

object of the Decameron is to amuse, while the Count Lucanor is the

production of a statesman, instructing a grave and serious nation in

lessons of policy and morality in the form of apologues. These stories

have suggested many subjects for the Spanish stage, and one of them

contains the groundwork of Shakspeare's "Taming of the Shrew."

Juan Ruiz, arch-priest of Hita (1292-1351), was a contemporary of Don

Manuel. His works consist of nearly seven thousand verses, forming a

series of stories which appear to be sketches from his own history,

mingled with fictions and allegories. The most curious is "The Battle of

Don Carnival with Madame Lent," in which Don Bacon, Madame Hungbeef, and a

train of other savory personages, are marshaled in mortal combat. The

cause of Madame Lent triumphs, and Don Carnival is condemned to solitary

imprisonment and one spare meal each day. At the end of forty days the

allegorical prisoner escapes, raises new followers, Don Breakfast and

others, and re-appears in alliance with Don Amor. The poetry of the arch-

priest is very various in tone. In general, it is satirical and pervaded

by a quiet humor. His happiest success is in the tales and apologues which

illustrate the adventures that constitute a framework for his poetry,

which is natural and spirited; and in this, as in other points, he

strikingly resembles Chaucer. Both often sought their materials in

Northern French poetry, and both have that mixture of devotion and of

licentiousness belonging to their age, as well as to the personal

character of each.

Rabbi Santob, a Jew of Carrion (fl. 1350), was the author of many poems,

the most important of which is "The Dance of Death," a favorite subject of

the painters and poets of the Middle Ages, representing a kind of

spiritual masquerade, in which persons of every rank and age appear

dancing with the skeleton form of Death. In this Spanish version it is

perhaps more striking and picturesque than in any other--the ghastly

nature of the subject being brought into very lively contrast with the

festive tone of the verses. This grim fiction had for several centuries

great success throughout Europe.

Pedro Lopez Ayala (1332-1407), grand chancellor of Castile under four

successive sovereigns, was both a poet and a historian. His poem, "Court

Rhymes," is the most remarkable of his productions. His style is grave,

gentle, and didactic, with occasional expressions of poetic feeling, which

seem, however, to belong as much to their age as to their author.

2. OLD BALLADS.--From the thirteenth to the fifteenth century, the period

we have just gone over, the courts of the different sovereigns of Europe

were the principal centres of refinement and civilization, and this was

peculiarly the case in Spain during this period, when literature was

produced or encouraged by the sovereigns and other distinguished men. But

this was not the only literature of Spain. The spirit of poetry diffused

throughout the peninsula, excited by the romantic events of Spanish

history, now began to assume the form of a popular literature, and to

assert for itself a place which in some particulars it has maintained ever

since. This popular literature may be distributed into four different

classes. The first contains the _Ballads_, or the narrative and lyrical

poetry of the common people from the earliest times; the second, the

_Chronicles_, or the half-genuine, half-fabulous histories of the great

events and heroes of the national annals; the third class comprises the

_Romances of Chivalry_, intimately connected with both the others, and,

after a time, as passionately admired by the whole nation; and the fourth

includes the _Drama_, which in its origin has always been a popular and

religious amusement, and was hardly less so in Spain than it was in Greece

or in France. These four classes compose what was generally most valued in

Spanish literature during the latter part of the fourteenth century, the

whole of the fifteenth, and much of the sixteenth. They rested on the deep

foundations of the national character, and therefore by their very nature

were opposed to the Provençal, the Italian, and the courtly schools, which

flourished during the same period.

The metrical structure of the old Spanish ballad was extremely simple,

consisting of eight-syllable lines, which are composed with great facility

in other languages as well as the Castilian. Sometimes they were broken

into stanzas of four lines each, thence called _redondillas_, or

roundelays, but their prominent peculiarity is that of the _asonante_, an

imperfect rhyme that echoes the same vowel, but not the same final

consonant in the terminating syllables. This metrical form was at a later

period adopted by the dramatists, and is now used in every department of

Spanish poetry.

The old Spanish ballads comprise more than a thousand poems, first

collected in the sixteenth century, whose authors and dates are alike

unknown. Indeed, until after the middle of that century, it is difficult

to find ballads written by known authors. These collections, arranged

without regard to chronological order, relate to the fictions of chivalry,

especially to Charlemagne and his peers, to the traditions and history of

Spain, to Moorish adventures, and to the private life and manners of the

Spaniards themselves; they belong to the unchronicled popular life and

character of the age which gave them birth. The ballads of chivalry, with

the exception of those relating to Charlemagne, occupy a less important

place than those founded on national subjects. The historical ballads are

by far the most numerous and the most interesting; and of those the first

in the order of time are those relating to Bernardo del Carpio, concerning

whom there are about forty. Bernardo (fl. 800) was the offspring of a

secret marriage between the Count de Saldaña and a sister of Alfonso the

Chaste, at which the king was so much offended that he sent the Infanta to

a convent, and kept the Count in perpetual imprisonment, educating

Bernardo as his own son, and keeping him in ignorance of his birth. The

achievements of Bernardo ending with the victory of Roncesvalles, his

efforts to procure the release of his father, the falsehood of the king,

and the despair and rebellion of Bernardo after the death of the Count in

prison, constitute the romantic incidents of these ballads.

The next series is that on Fernan Gonzalez, a chieftain who, in the middle

of the tenth century, recovered Castile from the Moors and became its

first sovereign count. The most romantic are those which describe his

being twice rescued from prison by his heroic wife, and his contest with

King Sancho, in which he displayed all the turbulence and cunning of a

robber baron of the Middle Ages.

The Seven Lords of Lara form the next group; some of them are beautiful,

and the story they contain is one of the most romantic in Spanish history.

The Seven Lords of Lara are betrayed by their uncle into the hands of the

Moors, and put to death, while their father, by the basest treason, is

confined in a Moorish prison. An eighth son, the famous Mudarra, whose

mother is a noble Moorish lady, at last avenges all the wrongs of his

race.

But from the earliest period, the Cid has been the occasion of more

ballads than any other of the great heroes of Spanish history or fable.

They were first collected in 1612, and have been continually republished

to the present day. There are at least a hundred and sixty of them,

forming a more complete series than any other, all strongly marked with

the spirit of their age and country.

The Moorish ballads form a large and brilliant class by themselves. The

period when this style of poetry came into favor was the century after the

fall of Granada, when the south, with its refinement and effeminacy, its

magnificent and fantastic architecture, the foreign yet not strange

manners of its people, and the stories of their warlike achievements, all

took strong hold of the Spanish imagination, and made of Granada a fairy

land.

Of the ballads relating to private life, most of them are effusions of

love, others are satirical, pastoral, and burlesque, and many descriptive

of the manners and amusements of the people at large; but all of them are

true representations of Spanish life. They are marked by an attractive

simplicity of thought and expression, united to a sort of mischievous

shrewdness. No such popular poetry exists in any other language, and no

other exhibits in so great a degree that nationality which is the truest

element of such poetry everywhere. The English and Scotch ballads, with

which they may most naturally be compared, belong to a ruder state of

society, which gave to the poetry less dignity and elevation than belong

to a people who, like the Spanish, were for centuries engaged in a contest

ennobled by a sense of religion and loyalty, and which could not fail to

raise the minds of those engaged in it far above the atmosphere that

settled around the bloody feuds of rival barons, or the gross maraudings

of border warfare. The great Castilian heroes, the Cid, Bernardo del

Carpio, and Pelayo, are even now an essential portion of the faith and

poetry of the common people of Spain, and are still honored as they were

centuries ago. The stories of Guarinos and of the defeat at Roncesvalles

are still sung by the wayfaring muleteers, as they were when Don Quixote

heard them on his journey to Toboso, and the showmen still rehearse the

same adventures in the streets of Seville, that they did at the solitary

inn of Montesinos when he encountered them there.

3. THE CHRONICLES.--As the great Moorish contest was transferred to the

south of Spain, the north became comparatively quiet. Wealth and leisure

followed; the castles became the abodes of a crude but free hospitality,

and the distinctions of society grew more apparent. The ballads from this

time began to subside into the lower portions of society; the educated

sought forms of literature more in accordance with their increased

knowledge and leisure, and their more settled system of social life. The

oldest of these forms was that of the Spanish prose chronicles, of which

there are general and royal chronicles, chronicles of particular events,

chronicles of particular persons, chronicles of travels, and romantic

chronicles.

The first of these chronicles in the order of time as well as that of

merit, comes from the royal hand of Alfonso the Wise, and is entitled "The

Chronicle of Spain." It begins with the creation of the world, and

concludes with the death of St. Ferdinand, the father of Alfonso. The last

part, relating to the history of Spain, is by far the most attractive, and

sets forth in a truly national spirit all the rich old traditions of the

country. This is not only the most interesting of the Spanish chronicles,

but the most interesting of all that in any country mark the transition

from its poetical and romantic traditions to the grave exactness of

historical truth. The chronicle of the Cid was probably taken from this

work.

Alfonso XI. ordered the annals of the kingdom to be continued down to his

own reign, or through the period from 1252 to 1312. During many succeeding

reigns the royal chronicles were continued,--that of Ferdinand and

Isabella, by Pulgar, is the last instance of the old style; but though the

annals were still kept up, the free and picturesque spirit that gave them

life was no longer there.

The chronicles of particular events and persons are most of them of little

value.

Among the chronicles of travels, the oldest one of any value is an account

of a Spanish embassy to Tamerlane, the great Tartar potentate.

Of the romantic chronicles, the principal specimen is that of Don Roderic,

a fabulous account of the reign of King Roderic, the conquest of the

country by the Moors, and the first attempts to recover it in the

beginning of the eighth century. The style is heavy and verbose, although

upon it Southey has founded much of his beautiful poem of "Roderic, the

last of the Goths." This chronicle of Don Roderic, which was little more

than a romance of chivalry, marks the transition to those romantic

fictions that had already begun to inundate Spain. But the series which it

concludes extends over a period of two hundred and fifty years, from the

time of Alfonso the Wise to the accession of Charles V. (1221-1516), and

is unrivaled in the richness and variety of its poetic elements. In truth,

these old Spanish chronicles cannot be compared with those of any other

nation, and whether they have their foundation in truth or in fable, they

strike their strong roots further down into the deep soil of popular

feeling and character. The old Spanish loyalty, the old Spanish religious

faith, as both were formed and nourished in long periods of national trial

and suffering, everywhere appear; and they contain such a body of

antiquities, traditions, and fables as has been offered to no other

people; furnishing not only materials from which a multitude of old

Spanish plays, ballads, and romances have been drawn, but a mine which has

unceasingly been wrought by the rest of Europe for similar purposes, and

which still remains unexhausted.

4. ROMANCES OF CHIVALRY.--The ballads originally belonged to the whole

nation, but especially to its less cultivated portions. The chronicles, on

the contrary, belonged to the knightly classes, who sought in these

picturesque records of their fathers a stimulus to their own virtue. But

as the nation advanced in refinement, books of less grave character were

demanded, and the spirit of poetical invention soon turned to the national

traditions, and produced from these new and attractive forms of fiction.

Before the middle of the fourteenth century, the romances of chivalry

connected with the stories of Arthur and the knights of the Round Table,

and Charlemagne and his peers, which had appeared in France two centuries

before, were scarcely known in Spain; but after that time they were

imitated, and a new series of fictions was invented, which soon spread

through the world, and became more famous than, either of its

predecessors.

This extraordinary family of romances is that of which "Amadis" is the

poetical head and type, and this was probably produced before the year

1400, by Vasco de Lobeira, a Portuguese. The structure and tone of this

fiction are original, and much more free than those of the French romances

that had preceded it. The stories of Arthur and Charlemagne are both

somewhat limited in invention by the adventures ascribed to them in the

traditions and chronicles, while that of Amadis belongs purely to the

imagination, and its sole purpose is to set forth the character of a

perfect knight. Amadis is admitted by general consent to be the best of

all the old romances of chivalry. The series which followed, founded upon

the Amadis, reached the number of twenty-four. They were successively

translated into French, and at once became famous. Considering the

passionate admiration which this work so long excited, and the influence

that, with little merit of its own, it has ever since exercised on the

poetry and romance of modern Europe, it is a phenomenon without parallel

in literary history.

Many other series of romances followed, numbering more than seventy

volumes, most of them in folio, and their influence over the Spanish

character extended through two hundred years. Their extraordinary

popularity may be accounted for, if we remember that, when they first

appeared in Spain, it had long been peculiarly the land of knighthood.

Extravagant and impossible as are many of the adventures recorded in these

books of chivalry, they so little exceeded the absurdities of living men

that many persons took the romances themselves to be true histories, and

believed them. The happiest work of the greatest genius Spain has produced

bears witness on every page to the prevalence of an absolute fanaticism

for these books of chivalry, and becomes at once the seal of their vast

popularity and the monument of their fate.

5. THE DRAMA.--The ancient theatre of the Greeks and Romans was continued

in some of its grosser forms in Constantinople and in other parts of the

fallen empire far into the Middle Ages. But it was essentially

mythological or heathenish, and, as such, it was opposed by the Christian

church, which, however, provided a substitute for what it thus opposed, by

adding a dramatic element to its festivals. Thus the manger at Bethlehem,

with the worship of the shepherds and magi, was at a very early period

solemnly exhibited every year before the altars of the churches, at

Christmas, as were the tragical events of the last days of the Saviour's

life, during Lent and at the approach of Easter. To these spectacles,

dialogue was afterwards added, and they were called, as we have seen,

_Mysteries_; they were used successfully not only as a means of amusement,

but for the religious edification of an ignorant multitude, and in some

countries they have been continued quite down to our own times. The period

when these representations were first made in Spain cannot now be

determined, though it was certainly before the middle of the thirteenth

century, and no distinct account of them now remains.

A singular combination of pastoral and satirical poetry indicates the

first origin of the Spanish secular drama. Towards the close of the

fifteenth century, these pastoral dialogues were converted into real

dramas by Enzina, and were publicly represented. But the most important of

these early productions is the "Tragi-comedy of Calisto and Meliboea," or

"Celestina." Though it can never have been represented, it has left

unmistakable traces of its influence on the national drama ever since. It

was translated into various languages, and few works ever had a more

brilliant success. The great fault of the Celestina is its shameless

libertinism of thought and language; and its chief merits are its life-

like exhibition of the most unworthy forms of human character, and its

singularly pure, rich, and idiomatic Castilian style.

The dramatic writers of this period seem to have had no idea of founding a

popular national drama, of which there is no trace as late as the close of

the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella.

6. PROVENÇAL LITERATURE IN SPAIN.--When the crown of Provence was

transferred, by the marriage of its heir, in 1113, to Berenger, Count of

Barcelona, numbers of the Provençal poets followed their liege lady from

Arles to Barcelona, and established themselves in her new capital. At the

very commencement, therefore, of the twelfth century, Provençal refinement

was introduced into the northeastern corner of Spain. Political causes

soon carried it farther towards the centre of the country. The Counts of

Barcelona obtained, by marriage, the kingdom of Aragon, and soon spread

through their new territories many of the refinements of Provence. The

literature thus introduced retained its Provençal character till it came

in contact with that more vigorous spirit which had been advancing from

the northwest, and which afterwards gave its tone to the consolidated

monarchy.

The poetry of the troubadours in Catalonia, as well as in its native home,

belonged much to the court, and the highest in rank and power were

earliest and foremost on its lists. From 1209 to 1229, the war against the

Albigenses was carried on with extraordinary cruelty and fury. To this

sect nearly all the contemporary troubadours belonged, and when they were

compelled to escape from the burnt and bloody ruins of their homes, many

of them hastened to the friendly court of Aragon, sure of being protected

and honored by princes who were at the same time poets.

From the close of the thirteenth century, the songs of the troubadours

were rarely heard in the land that gave them birth three hundred years

before; and the plant that was not permitted to expand in its native soil,

soon perished in that to which it had been transplanted. After the opening

of the fourteenth century, no genuinely Provençal poetry appears in

Castile, and from the middle of that century it begins to recede from

Catalonia and Aragon; or rather, to be corrupted by the hardier dialect

spoken there by the mass of the people. The retreat of the troubadours

over the Pyrenees, from Aix to Barcelona, from Barcelona to Saragossa and

Valencia, is everywhere marked by the wrecks and fragments of their

peculiar poetry and cultivation. At length, oppressed by the more powerful

Castilian, what remained of the language, that gave the first impulse to

poetic feeling in modern times, sank into a neglected dialect.

7. THE INFLUENCE OF ITALIAN LITERATURE IN SPAIN.--The influence of the

Italian literature over the Spanish, though less apparent at first, was

more deep and lasting than that of the Provençal. The long wars that the

Christians of Spain waged against the Moors brought them into closer

spiritual connection with the Church of Rome than any other people of

modern times. Spanish students repaired to the famous universities of

Italy, and returned to Spain, bringing with them the influence of Italian

culture; and commercial and political relations still further promoted a

free communication of the manners and literature of Italy to Spain. The

language, also, from its affinity with the Spanish, constituted a still

more important and effectual medium of intercourse. In the reign of John

II. (1407-1454), the attempt to form an Italian school in Spain became

apparent. This sovereign gathered about him a sort of poetical court, and

gave an impulse to refinement that was perceptible for several

generations.

Among those who interested themselves most directly in the progress of

poetry in Spain, the first in rank, after the king himself, was the

Marquis of Villena (1384-1434), whose fame rests chiefly on the "Labors of

Hercules," a short prose treatise or allegory.

First of all the courtiers and poets of this reign, in point of merit,

stands the Marquis of Santillana (1398-1458), whose works belong more or

less to the Provençal, Italian, and Spanish schools. He was the founder of

an Italian and courtly school in Spanish poetry--one adverse to the

national school and finally overcome by it, but one that long exercised a

considerable sway. Another poet of the court of John II. is Juan de Mena,

historiographer of Castile. His principal works are, "The Coronation" and

"The Labyrinth," both imitations of Dante. They are of consequence as

marking the progress of the language. The principal poem of Manrique the

younger, one of an illustrious family of that name, who were poets,

statesmen, and soldiers, on the death of his father, is remarkable for

depth and truth of feeling. Its greatest charm is its beautiful

simplicity, and its merit entitles it to the place it has taken among the

most admired portions of the elder Spanish literature.

8. THE CANCIONEROS AND PROSE WRITINGS.--The most distinct idea of the

poetical culture of Spain, during the fifteenth century, may he obtained

from the "Cancioneros," or collections of poetry, sometimes all by one

author, sometimes by many. The oldest of these dates from about 1450, and

was the work of Baena. Many similar collections followed, and they were

among the fashionable wants of the age. In 1511, Castillo printed at

Valencia the "Cancionero General," which contained poems attributed to

about a hundred different poets, from the time of Santillana to the period

in which it was made. Ten editions of this remarkable book followed, and

in it we find the poetry most in favor at the court and with the refined

society of Spain. It contains no trace of the earliest poetry of the

country, but the spirit of the troubadours is everywhere present; the

occasional imitations from the Italian are more apparent than successful,

and in general it is wearisome and monotonous, overstrained, formal, and

cold. But it was impossible that such a state of poetical culture should

become permanent in a country so full of stirring events as Spain was in

the age that followed the fall of Granada and the discovery of America;

everything announced a decided movement in the literature of the nation,

and almost everything seemed to favor and facilitate it.

The prose writers of the fifteenth century deserve mention chiefly because

they were so much valued in their own age. Their writings are encumbered

with the bad taste and pedantry of the time. Among them are Lucena,

Alfonso de la Torre, Pulgar, and a few others.

9. THE INQUISITION.--The first period of the history of Spanish

literature, now concluded, extends through nearly four centuries, from the

first breathings of the poetical enthusiasm of the mass of the people,

down to the decay of the courtly literature in the latter part of the

reign of Ferdinand and Isabella. The elements of a national literature

which it contains--the old ballads, the old chronicles, the old theatre--

are of a vigor and promise not to be mistaken. They constitute a mine of

more various wealth than had been offered under similar circumstances, at

so early a period, to any other people; and they give indications of a

subsequent literature that must vindicate for itself a place among the

permanent monuments of modern civilization.

The condition of things in Spain, at the close of the reign of Ferdinand

and Isabella, seemed to promise a long period of national prosperity. But

one institution, destined to check and discourage all intellectual

freedom, was already beginning to give token of its great and blighting

power. The Christian Spaniards had from an early period been essentially

intolerant. The Moors and the Jews were regarded by them with an intense

and bitter hatred; the first as their conquerors, and the last for the

oppressive claims which their wealth gave them on numbers of the Christian

inhabitants; and as enemies of the Cross, it was regarded as a merit to

punish them. The establishment of the Inquisition, therefore, in 1481,

which had been so effectually used to exterminate the heresy of the

Albigenses, met with little opposition. The Jews and the Moors were its

first victims, and with them it was permitted to deal unchecked by the

power of the state. But the movements of this power were in darkness and

secrecy. From the moment when the Inquisition laid its grasp on the object

of its suspicions to that of his execution, no voice was heard to issue

from its cells. The very witnesses it summoned were punished with death if

they revealed the secrets of its dread tribunals; and often of the victim

nothing was known but that he had disappeared from his accustomed haunts

never again to be seen. The effect was appalling. The imaginations of men

were filled with horror at the idea of a power so vast, so noiseless,

constantly and invisibly around them, whose blow was death, but whose step

could neither be heard nor followed amidst the gloom into which it

retreated. From this time, Spanish intolerance took that air of sombre

fanaticism which it never afterwards lost. The Inquisition gradually

enlarged its jurisdiction, until none was too humble to escape its notice,

or too high to be reached by its power. From an inquiry into the private

opinions of individuals to an interference with books and the press was

but a step, and this was soon taken, hastened by the appearance and

progress of the Reformation of Luther.

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