CHAPTER XXXVII.

ELOQUENCE, FORENSIC AND PULPIT.--LUIS DE LEON.--LUIS DE

GRANADA.--PARAVICINO AND THE SCHOOL OF BAD TASTE.--EPISTOLARY

CORRESPONDENCE.--ZURITA.--PEREZ.--SANTA TERESA.--ARGENSOLA.--LOPE DE

VEGA.--QUEVEDO.--CASCALES.--ANTONIO.--SOLÍS.

We shall hardly look for forensic or deliberative eloquence in

Spain. The whole constitution of things there, the political and

ecclesiastical institutions of the country, and, perhaps we should add,

the very genius of the people, were unfriendly to the growth of a plant

like this, which flourishes only in the soil of freedom.

The Spanish tribunals, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries,

whether in the ordinary course of their administration of justice, or

in the dark proceedings of the Inquisition, took less cognizance of the

influences of eloquence than those of any other Christian country of

modern times. They dealt with the wheel and the fagot,--not with the

spirit of persuasion. Nor was this spirit truly known or favored in

the political assemblies of the kingdom, though it was not supplanted

there by the formidable instruments familiar in the courts of justice.

In the ancient Cortes of Castile, and still more in those of Aragon,

there may have been discussions which were raised by their fervor to

something like what we now call deliberative eloquence. We have, in

fact, intimations of such discussions in the old chronicles; especially

in those that record the troubles and violence of the great nobles in

the reigns of John the Second and Henry the Fourth. But a free, living

debate on a great political principle, or on the conduct of those

who managed the affairs of the country,--such a debate as sometimes

shook the popular assemblies of antiquity, and in modern times has

often controlled the destinies of Christendom,--was, in Spain, a thing

absolutely unknown.

Even the grave and dry discussions, to which the pressure of affairs

gave rise, were rare and accidental. There was no training for them;

and they could be followed by none of the great practical results

that are at once the only sufficient motive and reward that can make

them enter freely into the institutions of a state. Indeed, whatever

there was of discussion in any open assembly could occur only in the

earlier period of the monarchy, when the language and culture of the

nation were still too little advanced to produce specimens of careful

debate; for from the time of Ferdinand and Isabella and the days of

the _Comunidades_, the Cortes were gradually restrained in their

privileges, until at last they ceased to be any thing but a part of

the pageantry of the empire, and served only to record the laws they

should themselves have discussed and modelled. From this period,

all opportunity for the growth of political eloquence in Spain was

lost. It would have been no more tolerated by one of the Philips than

Lutheranism.

The eloquence of the pulpit was checked by similar causes, but in a

different way. The Catholic religion has maintained in Spain, down to

a late period, more than it has in any other country, the character

it had during the Middle Ages. It has been to an extraordinary degree

a religion of mysteries, of forms, and of penance;--a religion,

therefore, in which such modes of moving the understanding and the

heart as have prevailed in France and England since the middle of the

seventeenth century have been rarely attempted, and never with great

success.

If any exception is to be made to this remark, it must be made in the

case of Luis de Leon and in that of Luis de Granada. Of the first we

have already spoken. He printed, indeed, no sermons as such; but he

inserted in his other works, and especially in his “Names of Christ”

and in his “Perfect Wife,” long declamations, sometimes preceded by a

text and sometimes not, but regularly divided into heads, and wearing

the general appearance and attributes of religious discourses. These,

since they were printed as early as 1584, may be accounted the earliest

specimens of Spanish eloquence fitted for the pulpit, and, if not

actually delivered, are still worthy of notice.[191]

[191] The most remarkable, and perhaps the most beautiful,

specimen is in the first book of “The Names of Christ”; the text

being from Isaiah, ix. 6: “The everlasting Father.”

The case of Luis de Granada is one more directly in point. That

remarkable man was head of the Dominican order, or the order of the

Preaching Monks, so that both his place and his profession led him to

the cultivation of the eloquence of the pulpit. But, besides this,

he seems to have devoted himself to it with the strong preference of

genius, preaching extemporaneously, it is said, with great power and

unction. In 1576, he published a Latin treatise on the subject of

Pulpit Eloquence; and in 1595, after his death, his friends printed, in

addition to those published during his lifetime, fourteen of his more

formal discourses, in which he has been thought, not only to have given

a full illustration of the precepts he inculcated, but to have placed

himself at the head of the department of eloquence to which he devoted

so much of his life.

They are in a bold and affluent style,--somewhat mystical, as were his

own religious tendencies,--and often more declamatory than seems in

keeping with the severe and solemn nature of their subjects; but they

are written with remarkable purity of idiom, and breathe everywhere

the spirit of the religion that was so deeply impressed on his age and

country. Perhaps a more characteristic specimen of Spanish eloquence

can hardly be found, than that in which Luis de Granada describes the

resurrection of the Saviour; adding to it his descent into hell to

rescue the souls of the righteous who were pining there because they

had died before his great sacrifice was completed,--a doctrine of the

Catholic Church capable of high poetical ornament, and one which, from

the time of Dante, has been often set forth with the most solemn effect.

“On that glorious day,” exclaims Luis de Granada, in his sermon on the

Resurrection, “the sun shone more brightly than on all others, serving

its Lord in dutiful splendor amidst his rejoicings, as it had served

him in darkness through his sufferings. The heavens, which had been

veiled in mourning to hide his agonies, were now bright with redoubled

glory as they saw him rise conquering from the grave. And who would

not rejoice in such a day? The whole humanity of Christ rejoiced in

it; all the disciples of Christ rejoiced in it; heaven rejoiced, earth

rejoiced; hell itself shared in the general jubilee. For the triumphant

Prince descended into its depths, clothed with splendor and might.

The everlasting darkness grew bright before his steps; the eternal

lamentations ceased; the realms of torment paused at his approach. The

princes of Edom were disturbed, and the mighty men of Moab trembled,

and they that dwelt in the land of Canaan were filled with fear. And

the multitude of the suffering murmured and said, ‘Who is this mighty

one, so resplendent, so powerful? Never before was his likeness seen in

these realms of hell; never hath the tributary world sent such a one to

these depths,--one who demands judgment, not a debtor; one who fills us

with dread, not one guilty like ourselves; a judge, and not a culprit;

a conqueror, not a sinner. Say, where were our watchmen and our guards,

when he burst in victory on our barred gates? By what might has he

entered? And who is he, that can do these things? If he were guilty, he

were not thus bold; if the shade of sin lay on his soul, how could our

darkness be made bright with his glory? If he be God, why should hell

receive him? and if he be man, whence hath he this might? If he be God,

why dwelt he in the grave? and if man, by what authority would he thus

lay waste our abodes?’

“Thus murmured the vassals of hell, as the Conqueror entered in glory

to free his chosen captives. For there stood they, all assembled

together,--all the souls of the just, who from the foundation of the

world till that day had passed through the gates of the grave; all the

prophets and men of might who had glorified the Lord in the manifold

agonies of martyrdom;--a glorious company!--a mighty treasure!--the

richest inheritance of Christ’s triumph! For there stood the two

original parents of the generations of mankind,--the first in sin and

the first in faith and hope. There stood that aged saint who rescued

in the ark of safety those that repeopled the world when the waters of

the deluge were spent. There stood the father of the faithful, who

first received by merit the revelation of God’s will, and wore, in

his person, the marks of his election. There stood his obedient son,

who, bearing on his shoulders the wood of his own sacrifice, showed

forth the redemption of the world. There stood the holy progenitor of

the Twelve Tribes, who, winning his father’s blessing in the stranger

guise of another’s garb, set forth the mystery of the humanity and

incarnation of the Divine Word. There stood, also, as it were, guests

newly arrived in that strange land, the Holy Baptist and the blessed

Simeon, who prayed that he might not be taken from the earth till with

his own eyes he had seen its salvation; who received it in his arms,

and sang gently its canticle of peace. And there, too, found a place

the poor Lazarus of the Gospel, who, for the patience with which he

bore his wounds, deserved to join so noble a company, and share its

longing hopes. And all this multitude of sanctified spirits stood

there mourning and grieving for this day; and in the midst of them

all, and as the leader of them all, the holy king and prophet repeated

without ceasing his ancient lamentation: ‘As the hart panteth after the

water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God! My tears have been

my meat day and night, while they continually say unto me, Where is thy

God?’ O blessed and holy king, if this be the cause of thy lamentation,

let it cease for ever; for behold thy God! behold thy Saviour! Change,

then, thy chant, and sing as thou wast wont to sing of old: ‘Lord, thou

hast been favorable unto thy land; thou hast pardoned the offences

of thy people; thou hast hidden thy face from the multitude of their

sins.’”[192]

[192] See the accounts of Luis de Granada in Antonio, and in the

Preface to the “Guia de Pecadores,” Madrid, 1781, 2 tom. 8vo. His

treatise on pulpit eloquence, entitled “Rhetoricæ Ecclesiasticæ,

sive de Ratione Concionandi, Libri Sex,” was valued in other

countries. An edition of it, Cologne, 1611, 12mo, fills above 500

closely printed pages. It is somewhat remarkable, that, besides

the sermon on the Resurrection, from which the extract I have

translated was made, one of the best of his meditations, that

entitled “De la Alegría de los Santos Padres,” is on the same

subject. He was born in 1504, and died in 1588.

It would not be easy to select a more striking example than this of the

peculiar rhetoric that was most sought in the Spanish pulpit. But the

portions of equal merit are few, and the amount of the whole is small.

After the beginning of the seventeenth century, the affected style of

Góngora and the conceits of the school of Ledesma found their way into

the churches generally, and especially into the churches of Madrid.

This was natural. No persons depended more on the voice of fashion than

the preachers of the court and the capital, and the fashion of both was

thoroughly infected with the new doctrines. Paravicino, at this period,

was at the head of the popular preachers; himself a poet devoted to the

affectations of Góngora; a man of wit, a gentleman, and a courtier.

From 1616 he was, during twenty years, pulpit orator to Philip the

Third and Philip the Fourth, and enjoyed, as such, a kind and degree

of popularity before unknown. As might have been expected, he had

many followers, each of whom sought to have a fashionable audience.

Such audiences were soon systematically provided. They were, in fact,

collected, arranged, and seated by the friends and admirers of the

preacher himself,--generally by those who, from their ecclesiastical

relations, had an interest in his success; and then the crowds thus

gathered were induced in different ways to express their approbation

of the more elaborate passages in his discourse. From this time, and

in this way, religious dignity disappeared from the Spanish pulpit,

and whatever there was of value in its eloquence was confined to two

forms,--the learned discussions, often in Latin, addressed to bodies

of ecclesiastics, and the extemporaneous exhortations addressed to the

lower classes;--the latter popular and vehement in their tone, and,

by their coarseness, generally unworthy of the solemn subjects they

touched.[193]

[193] For Paravicino and his school, see Sedano, (Parnaso

Español, Tom. V. p. xlviii.,) Baena, (Hijos de Madrid, Tom. II.

p. 389,) and Antonio, (Bib. Nov., Tom. I. p. 612,) who speaks

as if he had often heard Paravicino’s eloquence, and witnessed

its effects. _E contra_ is Figueroa, who, in his “Pasagero,”

(1617, Alivio IV.,) is severe upon the preachers and audiences of

Madrid. The fact, however, that Capmany, in his five important

volumes devoted to Spanish eloquence, has been able to find

nothing in the seventeenth century, either in the way of forensic

orations or popular pulpit eloquence, with which to fill his

pages, but is obliged to resort to the eloquent prose of history

and philosophy, of ethics and religious asceticism, tells at

once, in a way not to be mistaken, the tale of the deficiencies

in Castilian eloquence, as the word _eloquence_ is understood in

English.

* * * * *

There is little in Spanish epistolary correspondence that requires

notice as a portion of the elegant literature of the country. The

heartiness of a simpler age gives, indeed, a charm to such letters as

those which claim to have been written by Cibdareal, and in a less

degree to those of Pulgar and Diego de Valera. Later, the despatches

of Columbus, in which he made known to the world his vast discoveries,

are occasionally marked by the fervor of an enthusiasm inspired by

his great subject; and those of his queen and patron, though few in

number and less interesting, are quite as characteristic and quite as

true-hearted.

But, with the stately court brought from the North by Charles the

Fifth, all this was changed. Added forms, and more than the old

national gravity, passed into the intercourse of social life, and

infected the style of the commonest correspondence. Genial familiarity

disappeared from the letters of friends, and even private affections

and feelings were either seldom expressed, or were so covered up as

to be with difficulty recognized. Thus, what was most valued in this

department at the time, and for a century afterwards, were Guevara’s

“Golden Epistles,” which are only formal dissertations, and the

“Epistles” of Avila, which are sermons in disguise, that moved the

hearts of his countrymen because they were such earnest exhortations to

a religious life.[194]

[194] These writers have all been mentioned earlier, (see,

_ante_, Vol. I. pp. 395, 540, 543,) except Queen Isabella, whose

letters are best found in Clemencin’s excellent work on her

character and times, filling the sixth volume of the “Memorias de

la Academia de la Historia.” They are addressed to her confessor,

Hernando de Talavera, and strongly illustrate both her prudence

and her submission to ecclesiastical influences. (See pp.

351-383.) Several letters addressed to Columbus, and marked with

her spirit rather than that of her husband, though signed by both

of them, may be seen in the second volume of Navarrete, (Viages,

etc.,) which is rich in such curious documents.

From these remarks, however, we should except portions of the

correspondence of Zurita, the historian, extending over the last thirty

years of his life, and ending in 1582, just before his death. They

give us the business-like intercourse of a man of letters, carried on

with all classes of society, from ministers of state and the highest

ecclesiastics of the realm down to persons distinguished only because

they were occupied in studies like his own. The number of letters in

this collection is large, amounting to above two hundred. More of them

are from Antonio Agustin, Archbishop of Tarragona, an eminent scholar

in Spanish history and civil law, than from any other person; but the

most interesting are from Zurita himself, from his friend Ambrosio

Morales, from Diego de Mendoza, the historian, Argote de Molina, the

antiquarian, and Fernan Nuñez, the Greek Commander. Each of these

series is marked by something characteristic of its author, and all of

them, taken together, show more familiarly the interior condition of a

scholar’s life in Spain, in the sixteenth century, than it can be found

anywhere else.[195]

[195] The correspondence of Zurita and his friends is to be

sought in the “Progresos de la Historia en el Reyno de Aragon,”

by Diego Josef Dormer, (Zaragoza, 1680, folio,) and especially

pp. 362-563, which are entirely given up to it.

But the principal exception to be made in favor of Spanish epistolary

correspondence is found in the case of Antonio Perez, secretary of

Philip the Second, and for some time his favorite minister. His father,

who was a scholar, and made a translation of the “Odyssey,”[196] had

been in the employment of Charles the Fifth, so that the younger Perez

inherited somewhat of the court influence which was then so important;

but his rapid advancement was owing to his own genius, and to a love

of intrigue and adventure, which seemed to be a part of his nature. At

last, in 1578, at the command of his master, he not unwillingly brought

about the murder of Escovedo, a person high in the confidence of Don

John of Austria, whose growing influence it was thought worth while

thus to curtail;--a crime which, perpetrated as it was in consequence

of the official connection of the secretary with the monarch, brought

Perez to the very height of his favor.

[196] “La Ulyxea de Homero,” etc., por Gonzalo Perez, (Venecia,

1553, 18mo,) is in blank verse; but in this edition we have

only the first thirteen books, with a dedication to Philip the

Prince, whose chief secretary Gonzalo Perez then was, as his

son Antonio was afterwards secretary of the same Philip on the

throne. Subsequently, when he had translated the remaining eleven

books, he dedicated the whole anew to Philip as king, (Anvers,

1556, 12mo,) correcting and amending the first part carefully.

Lope de Vega (in his Dorotea, Acto IV. sc. 3) praises the version

of Perez; but, like most of the Spanish translations from the

ancients in the sixteenth century, it shows little of the spirit

of the original.

But it was not long before the guilty agent became as unwelcome to his

guilty master as their victim had been. A change in their relations

followed, cautiously brought on by the unscrupulous king, but deep and

entire. At first, Philip permitted Perez to be pursued by the kinsmen

of the murdered man, and afterwards, contriving plausible pretexts

for hiding his motives, began himself to join in the persecution.

Eleven long years the wretched courtier was watched, vexed, and

imprisoned, at Madrid; and once, at least, he was subjected to cruel

bodily tortures. When he could endure this no longer, he fled to

Aragon, his native kingdom, whose freer political constitution did

not permit him to be crushed in secret. This was a great surprise

to Philip, and, for an instant, seems to have disconcerted his dark

schemes. But his resources were equal to the emergency. He pursued

Perez to Saragossa, and finding the regular means of justice unequal

to the demands of his vengeance, caused his victim to be seized by the

Inquisition, under the absurd charge of heresy. But this, again, in the

form in which Philip found it necessary to proceed, was a violation

of the ancient privileges of the kingdom, and the people broke out

into open rebellion, and released Perez from prison;--a consequence

of his measures, which, perhaps, was neither unforeseen by Philip

nor unwelcome to him. At any rate, he immediately sent an army into

Aragon, sufficient, not only to overwhelm all open resistance, but to

strike a terror that should prevent future opposition to his will; and

the result, besides a vast number of rich confiscations to the royal

treasury, was the condemnation of sixty-eight persons of distinction to

death by the Inquisition, and the final overthrow of nearly every thing

that remained of the long-cherished liberties of the country.

Meantime, Perez escaped secretly from Saragossa, as he had before

escaped from Madrid, and, wandering over the Pyrenees in the disguise

of a shepherd, sought refuge in Bearn, at the little court of Catherine

of Bourbon, sister of Henry the Fourth. Public policy caused him to be

well received both there and in France, where he afterwards passed the

greater part of his long exile. During the troubles between Elizabeth

and Philip, he instinctively went to England, and, while there, was

much with Essex, and became more familiar with Bacon than the wise and

pious mother of the future chancellor thought it well one so profligate

as Perez should be. Philip, who could ill endure the idea of having

such a witness of his crimes intriguing at the courts of his great

enemies, endeavoured to have Perez assassinated both in Paris and

London, and failed more from accident than from want of well-concerted

plans to accomplish his object.

At last peace came between France and England on one side, and Spain

on the other; and Perez ceased to be a person of consequence to those

who had so long used him. Henry the Fourth, indeed, with his customary

good nature, still indulged him even in very extravagant modes of

life, which rather resembled those of a prince than of an exile. But

his claims were so unreasonable, and were urged with such boldness and

pertinacity, that every body wearied of him. He therefore fell into

unhonored poverty, and dragged out the miserable life of a neglected

courtier till 1611, when he died at Paris. Four years later, the

Inquisition, which had caused him to be burnt in effigy as a heretic,

reluctantly did him the imperfect justice of removing their anathemas

from his memory, and thus permitted his children to enter into civil

rights, of which nothing but the most shameless violence had ever

deprived them.

From the time of his first imprisonment, Perez began to write the

letters that are still extant; and their series never stops, till we

approach the period of his death. Some of them are to his wife and

children; others, to Gil de Mesa, his confidential friend and agent;

and others, to persons high in place, from whose influence he hoped to

gain favor. His Narratives, or “Relations,” as he calls them, and his

“Memorial” on his own case, occasionally involve other letters, and are

themselves in the nature of long epistles, written with great talent

and still greater ingenuity, to gain the favor of his judges or of the

world. All these, some of which his position forbade him ever to send

to the persons to whom they were addressed, he carefully preserved,

and during his exile published them from time to time to suit his own

political purposes;--at first anonymously, or under the assumed name

of Raphael Peregrino; afterwards under the seeming editorship of his

friend Mesa; and finally, without disguise of any sort, dedicating some

of them to Henry the Fourth, and some to the Pope.

Their number is large, amounting in the most ample collection to

above a thousand pages. The best are those that are most familiar;

for even in the slightest of them, as when he is sending a present of

gloves to Lady Rich, or a few new-fashioned toothpicks to the Duke of

Mayenne, there is a nice preservation of the Castilian proprieties

of expression. Many of them sparkle with genius; sometimes most

unexpectedly, though not always in good taste; Thus, to his innocent

wife, shamefully kept in prison during his exile, he says: “Though you

are not allowed to write to me, or to enjoy what to the absent is the

breath of life; yet here [in France] there is no punishment for the

promptings of natural affection. I answer, therefore, what I hear in

the spirit, your complaints of the punishment laid on your own virtues

and on the innocence of your children,--complaints, which reach me

from that asylum of darkness and of the shadow of death, in which you

now lie. But when I listen, it seems as if I ought to hear you no less

with my outward ears, just as the words and cries that come from the

caves under the earth only resound the louder, as they are rolled up

to us from their dark hiding-places.”[197] And again, when speaking

of the cruel conduct of his judges to his family, he breaks out: “But

let them not be deceived. Their victims may be imprisoned and loaded

with irons; but they have the two mightiest advocates of the earth

to defend them,--their innocence and their wrongs. For neither could

Cicero nor Demosthenes so pierce the ears of men, nor so stir up their

minds, nor so shake the frame of things, as can these two, to whom God

has given the especial privilege to stand for ever in his presence, to

cry for justice, and to be witnesses and advocates for one another in

whatsoever he has reserved for his own awful judgment.”[198]

[197] Obras, Genevra, 1654, 12mo, p. 1073.

[198] Ibid., p. 96.

The letters of Perez are in a great variety of styles, from the

cautious and yet fervent appeals that he made to Philip the Second,

down to the gallant notes he wrote to court ladies, and the

overflowings of his heart to his young children. But they are all

written in remarkably idiomatic Castilian, and are rendered interesting

from the circumstance, that in each class there is a strict observance

of such conventional forms as were required by the relative social

positions of the author and his correspondents.[199]

[199] The first publication of Perez, I think, is the one made

at Lyons, without date, but supposed to be of 1598, and entitled

“Pedaços de Historia,” etc.; but, the same year, the contents of

this volume were reprinted at Paris, with the more appropriate

title of “Relaciones.” Perez seems to have amused himself with

publishing different portions of his works at different times and

in different places; but the most complete collection is that of

Geneva, 1654, 12mo, pp. 1126. His life is admirably discussed by

M. Mignet, in his “Antonio Perez et Philippe II.” (2de édit.,

Paris, 1846). The work of Salvador Bermudez de Castro, entitled

“Antonio Perez, Estudios Históricos,” (Madrid, 1841, 8vo,) would

be better worth reading if the author had not permitted himself

to indulge in fictions, such as ballad poetry, which he calls

the poetry of Perez, and which he gives as part of the means

Perez used to stir up the people of Saragossa, but which is, no

doubt, the work of Castro himself. The lives of Perez in Baena

(Tom. I., 1789, p. 121) and Latassa (Bib. Nov., Tom. II., 1799,

p. 108) show how afraid men of letters were, as late as the end

of the eighteenth century, to approach any subject thus connected

with royalty. The works of Perez are strictly forbidden by the

Index Expurgatorius of the Inquisition to the last,--in 1790 and

1805. The letters of Perez to Essex are in pretty good Latin,

and out of his Spanish works there were early made two or three

collections of very acute and striking aphorisms, which have

been several times printed. There are many MS. letters of Perez

at the Hague and elsewhere, referred to by Mignet, and there is

in the Royal Library at Paris an important political treatise

which bears his name, but which, though strongly marked with his

acuteness and brilliancy, Ochoa hesitates to attribute to him. It

is, however, I doubt not, his. (See Ochoa, Manuscritos Españoles,

pp. 158-166; and Seminario Erudito, Tom. VIII. pp. 245 and 250.)

Further accounts of Perez are to be found in Llorente, Tom. III.

pp. 316-375.

The letters of Santa Teresa, who was a contemporary of the secretary of

Philip the Second, and died in 1582, are entirely different; for while

nothing can be more practical and worldly than those of Perez, the

letters of the devout nun are entirely spiritual. She believed herself

to be inspired, and therefore wrote with an air of authority, which

is almost always solemn and imposing, but which sometimes, through

its very boldness and freedom from all restraint, becomes easy and

graceful. Her talents were versatile and her perceptions acute. To each

of her many correspondents she says something that seems suited to the

occasion on which she is consulted;--a task not easy for a nun, who

lived forty-seven years in retirement from the world, and during that

time was called upon to give advice to archbishops and bishops, to wise

and able statesmen like Diego de Mendoza, to men of genius like Luis de

Granada, to persons in private life who were in deep affliction or in

great danger, and to women in the ordinary course of their daily lives.

Her letters fill four volumes, and though, in general, they are only

to be regarded as fervent exhortations or religious teachings, still,

by the purity, beauty, and womanly grace of their style, they may

fairly claim a distinguished place in the epistolary literature of her

country.[200]

[200] “Cartas de Santa Teresa de Jesus,” Madrid, 1793, 4 tom.

4to,--chiefly written in the latter part of her life.

Some portions of the correspondence of Bartolomé de Argensola about

1625, of Lope de Vega before 1630, and of Quevedo a little later, have

been preserved to us; but they are too inconsiderable in amount to have

much value. Of Cascales, the rhetorician, we have more. In 1634, he

printed three Decades of Letters; but they are almost entirely devoted

to discussions of points that involve learned lore; and, even where

they are not such, they are stiff and formal. A few by Nicolas Antonio,

the literary historian, who died in 1684, are plain and business-like,

but are written in a hard style, that prevents them from being

interesting. Those of Solís, who closes up the century and the period,

are better. They are such as belong to the intercourse of an old man,

left to struggle through the last years of a long life with poverty and

misfortune, and express the feelings becoming his situation, both with

philosophical calmness and Christian resignation.[201]

[201] The letters of Argensola are in the “Cartas de Varios

Autores Españoles,” by Mayans y Siscar, (Valencia, 1773, 5 tom.

12mo,)--itself a monument of the poverty of Spanish literature

in that department from which it attempts to make a collection,

since by far the greater part of it consists of old printed

dedications, formal epistles of approbation that had been

prefixed to books when they were first published, lives of

authors that had served as prefaces to their works, etc. The

letters of Quevedo and Lope are chiefly on literary subjects, and

are scattered through their respective writings. Those of Antonio

and Solís are in a small volume published by Mayans at Lyons,

in 1733; to which may be added those at the end of Antonio’s

“Censura de Historias Fabulosas,” Madrid, 1742, fol. The “Cartas

Philologicas” of Cascales, (of which there is a neat edition by

Sanchez, Madrid, 1779, 8vo,) are to Spain and the age in which

they were written what the terse and pleasant letters published

by Melmoth, under the pseudonyme of Fitzosborne, are to England

in the reign of George II.,--an attempt to unite as much learning

as the public would bear with an infusion of lighter matter in

discussions connected with morals and manners.

But no writer in the history of Spanish epistolary correspondence can

be compared for acuteness and brilliancy with Antonio Perez, or for

eloquence with Santa Teresa.

History of Spanish Literature, vol. 3 (of 3) · 第 14 / 23 章