PART I.

I. GASPAR MELCHOR DE JOVELLANOS.

An able and distinguished writer in the Madrid Review has observed, that if the question were asked as to which is the first great name in modern Spanish literature, the answer must unquestionably be—Jovellanos. It seems, therefore, only a just deference to his merits, though it is but a fortuitous coincidence in the order of dates, that we have to place his name first in the series of modern Spanish poets. It is, however, to his State Papers and his writings on Political Economy that he principally owes his reputation; though it is a proud consideration for Spanish literature, that, as regards him, as well as Martinez de la Rosa and the Duke de Rivas, she has to place the names of eminent statesmen among her principal poets.

Jovellanos was born the 5th of January, 1744, at Gijon, a town in the Asturias, of which his father was Regidor or one of the chief Magistrates. His family connections were of the class called Nobles, answering to the Noblesse of France, and were moreover very influential and sufficiently wealthy. To take advantage of the preferments these offered him, he was destined in early youth, being a younger son, for the church, in which he entered into the first orders for the purpose of holding several benefices that were given him. He studied consecutively at Oviedo, Avila and Osma, where he distinguished himself so much to the satisfaction of those interested in his fortunes, that he was removed, in 1764, to the University of Alcalà de Henares, and shortly afterwards to Madrid to study law. His friends and relatives, having become aware of his great talents, had now induced him to abandon the clerical profession and engage in secular pursuits. A person of his rank in those days was not at liberty to practise as an advocate, though the young Noble, under court favour, might administer the law; and thus he was, in 1767, when only in his twenty-fourth year, appointed judge of criminal cases at Seville. In this office he conducted himself with great ability and humanity, appearing to have been the first to abandon the employment of torture for obtaining confessions, which system has scarcely yet been discarded on the Continent. As characteristic of him, it may here be added, that he is reported to have been the first of the higher magistrates in Spain who gave up the use of the official wig; so that his unusual dress, combined with his youth, made him on the bench more observed than perhaps even his talents would at first have rendered him.

Whatever objections might have been made, if cause could be found, he seems, after having served nearly ten years as judge in the criminal courts, to have been advanced, with the approbation of all parties, to the office of judge in civil cases, also at Seville. This was an office much more agreeable to his inclinations, though the salary was no higher than what he had previously enjoyed. He had, however, other duties also entrusted to him of minor character, though of proportionate emolument, and thereupon he resigned his benefices in the church, which he had held till then, and to the duties of which he had strictly attended. Beyond this act of disinterestedness, he seems to have given his brother magistrates no inconsiderable inquietude at the same time by refusing some emoluments of office to which they considered themselves entitled. But their minds were soon relieved from the apprehensions his conduct might occasion them, as at the end of four years he was, in 1778, appointed judge of criminal cases at Madrid; an office generally considered of eminent promotion, but which he accepted with regret.

In after times, every letter and every notice of Jovellanos that could be found was eagerly sought and treasured up; and from these and his own memorandums, it appears he had good reason to consider the years he passed at Seville as the happiest of his life. Honoured in his public capacity and beloved in his social circle, he passed whatever time he could spare from his official or private duties in literary pursuits. It was then he wrote or prepared most of the lighter works which entitle him to be ranked among the poets of the age; the tragedy of “Pelayo,” and comedy of “The Honourable Delinquent,” both which were highly esteemed by his countrymen, as well as most of his minor poems. He did not however confine himself to such recreations, but at the same time entered on graver studies for the public service, on which his fame was eventually established.

Shortly after Jovellanos joined the courts at Seville, he had for one of his colleagues Don Luis Ignacio Aguirre, a person of high literary attainments, who had travelled much, and brought with him, as stated by Bermudez, many works in English on Political Economy. To understand these, Jovellanos immediately, under Aguirre’s guidance, proceeded to learn the English language, of which he soon obtained a competent knowledge. He then studied the science, then newly dawning, from the works his friend afforded him, and made himself a master of it, so as to give him a name among the most eminent of its professors. Not contented with these pursuits, his active mind was still further engaged in whatever could tend to the benefit of society in the place of his labours. He seems indeed to have always had before him the consideration of what might be the fullest duties his station imposed on him, beyond the mere routine of official services. Not confining himself to these, much less giving himself up to passive enjoyments, however harmless or honourable in themselves, he seemed then and through life as ever acting under the sense of a great responsibility, as of the requirements of Him “who gave his servants authority, and to every man his work.” Thus he instituted a school at Seville for children, reformed the course of practice at the hospitals, attended to the keeping of the public walks and grounds in good order, and was foremost in every case where charity called or good services were required. Artists and men of genius found in him a friend, who, by advice and other aid, was always ready to their call; and it was observed that his only passion was for the purchase of books and pictures, of which respectively he formed good collections.

On giving up his duties at Seville, Jovellanos travelled through Andalusia, and, as was his custom in all the places he visited, made notes of whatever useful information he could obtain respecting them, many of which were afterwards published in a topographical work he assisted in bringing forward. On arriving at Madrid, where his fame had preceded him, he was at once chosen member of the different learned societies, to several of which he rendered valuable services. At Seville he had already prepared a sketch of his great work, entitled “Agrarian Law,” in which he treated of the law and tenure of land, its cultivation, and other topics connected with it. This work he then published in an extended form, in which it has been reprinted several times, separately as well as in his collected works. In the several societies he also read many papers, one of which, “On Public Diversions,” deserves to be named particularly, as containing much curious information, as well as many excellent suggestions for public advantage, on points which statesmen would do well to remember more frequently than they are in the habit of doing.

On leaving Seville, Jovellanos regretted that he had to engage again in criminal cases, for which he had a natural aversion. After fulfilling these duties at Madrid a year and a half, he therefore sought another appointment, and obtained one in the Council of Military Orders, more agreeable to his inclinations. In this office it was his duty to attend to the affairs of the four military orders of Spain, and in his visits to their properties and other places on their behalf, he was entrusted with various commissions, which he fulfilled with his accustomed zeal. In those visits he had to go much to his native province, and he took advantage of his influence to make roads, which were much needed there, and the benefits of which he lived to see appreciated. He incited the members of the Patriotic Society of Oviedo, and others connected with the Asturias, to explore the mineral wealth of the country, rich in mines of coal and iron, then scarcely known. For the study of such pursuits he founded the Asturian Institute, and raised subscriptions to have two young men educated abroad in mathematics and mining, who were afterwards to teach those sciences at the Institute. Every day of his life indeed seems to have been employed on some object of public utility, or in studies connected with such objects; following the ancient maxim to do nothing trifling or imperfectly:—Μηδὲν ἐνέργημα εἰκῆ, μηδὲν ἄλλως ἢ κατὰ θεωρήμα συμπληρωτικὸν τῆς τέχνης ἐνεργεῖθω.

Though exact in the fulfilment of his official duties, and other various commissions entrusted to him by the government to report on the state of the provinces, it is wonderful to consider the industry with which he followed other pursuits. He studied botany and architecture, on which he wrote several treatises; and though each of those subjects would have been a sufficient task for ordinary men, to him they were only relaxations from his favourite science of political economy.

Bent on the promotion of law and other reforms in the state, he became connected with the Conde de Cabarrus, who, though a Frenchman by birth, had obtained high employments in Spain, and who, as a person of superior talent and discernment, was also convinced of the necessity of such measures. As too often is the case with able and honest statesmen, the Conde de Cabarrus fell, while attempting to effect these reforms, under the intrigues of his enemies, and Jovellanos became involved in his disgrace. He had been sent, in 1790, into the provinces in fulfilment of the duties of his office; when, having heard on the road of his friend’s ill fortune, he returned at once to offer him whatever assistance he might have in his power. He had, however, no sooner arrived in Madrid, where the Conde was under arrest, than, without being allowed to communicate with him, Jovellanos received a royal order to return immediately to his province.

The terms in which this order was conveyed convinced Jovellanos that he was to share in the disgrace of his friend, and to consider himself banished from court. He therefore proceeded philosophically to settle himself in his paternal abode with his brother, their father being now deceased, with his books and effects, and engaged in the improvement of their family estates. His expectations proved correct, as in this honourable exile he had to pass seven years, though not altogether unemployed, as he had several commissions entrusted to him similar to those he had previously discharged. But still Jovellanos, unbowed by political reverses, continued the same ardent promoter of public improvement. For the Asturian Institute, which he had founded for the purpose of teaching principally mineralogy and metallurgy, and which he personally superintended, he wrote his very able work on Public Instruction, and compiled elementary grammars of the French and English languages, in which he showed himself proficient to a degree truly astonishing.

In his official duties, having to go carefully in inspection over the Asturias and other neighbouring provinces, he noted his observations in diaries, which have been fortunately preserved, and which contain much valuable information. In these he has gathered all he could learn relative to the productions of the provinces, and the state in which he found them and the people, as embodied in his reports thereon to the government, with an account of the ancient remains and public buildings, making copies of whatever he found most interesting in the archives of the several convents, cathedrals and corporations. Some of these copies now possess a peculiar value, from the damages that have since accrued to many of the originals from time and the events of the subsequent wars.

If it were not for the disparagement of being considered in banishment, Jovellanos could have felt himself contented. He had not only honourable employment, as before stated, but he also received several notices of approbation from the government, especially as regarded the Institute, to which notices he perhaps paid a higher regard than they deserved. He seems himself to have felt this; for in one of his letters he writes—“I will not deny that I desire some public mark of appreciation by the government, to gain by it that kind of sanction which merit needs in the opinion of some weak minds. But I see that this is a vain suggestion, and that posterity will not judge me by my titles, but by my works.”

This was written on a rumour having reached Gijon of the probability of his being soon restored to favour at court. Those under whose intrigues he had fallen had now passed away in their turn: a favourite of a more powerful grade was in the ascendant, Godoy, the Prince of the Peace, to whose mind had been suggested the advisability of gathering round him persons of acknowledged probity and knowledge, for the support of his government. Jovellanos had returned home, in October 1797, from one of his journeys of inspection, when he found the whole town in a state of rejoicing. On inquiring the cause, he was told it was because news had been received of his nomination as ambassador to Russia. A few days afterwards the rejoicings were renewed, on the further intelligence of his being nominated a member of the government itself, as Minister of Grace and Justice.

In this office it might have been hoped that a happier career was before him; but evil fortune on the contrary now followed him, and more fatally than ever. His former banishment from court was owing to the endeavours he had made to remove those abuses into which all human institutions have a tendency to fall, rendering frequently necessary a correction of those abuses, to preserve what was most valuable in the institutions themselves. His next misfortune arose from personal differences with the reigning favourite, whose greater influence it was his error not to have perceived. Jovellanos had been restored to favour at the instance of Godoy; but as this was without his seeking, he felt himself under no obligation to maintain him as the head of the government, for which he was totally unfit. Jovellanos joined in an opposition to him, which for a short time succeeded in depriving Godoy of office. But his influence at court continued, and thus Jovellanos was in his turn dismissed, after holding the office of minister only about eight months, and ordered to return to Gijon.

Unhappily the favourite carried his resentment further; and Jovellanos was, on the 13th of March, 1801, arrested in his bed at an early hour of the morning, and sent as a prisoner through the country to Barcelona, thence to Mallorca, where first in the Carthusian convent, and afterwards in the castle of Bellver more strictly, he was closely confined, without any regard paid to his demands to know the accusation against him. Here his health was severely affected, as well as his feelings outraged, by the unjust treatment to which he was subjected. Still he was not one to sink under such evils. He was rather one of those “who, going through the valley of misery, make it a well.” He turned accordingly to the resources of literature, and employed himself in writing and translating from Latin and French several valuable treatises on architecture, and other works, on the history of the island, and of the convent, besides several poems, among which the Epistle to Bermudez, his biographer, deserves particular notice.

Another work he then wrote is no less deserving of mention, showing the attention he had paid to English affairs, entitled “A Letter on English Architecture, and that called Gothic,” in which he treated of English architecture from the time of the Druids, dividing it into the Saxon, Gothic and modern periods. He describes the buildings according to the epochs, especially St. Paul’s and others of the seventeenth century, coming down to the picturesque style of gardening then adopted in England, with notices of the different sculptors, painters and engravers, as well as architects, and also of the authors who had written on the Fine Arts in England. This work has not been published, but Bermudez states he had the manuscript.

After being seven years a prisoner, Jovellanos was in 1808 released on the abdication of Charles IV. and the consequent fall of Godoy. This release was announced to him in terms of official brevity, and he replied by an earnest demand to be subjected to a trial, for the purpose of having the cause of his imprisonment made manifest. Before, however, an answer could be returned, Ferdinand had, under Napoleon’s dictation, also ceased to reign, and Jovellanos was called upon to take a prominent place in the intrusive government of king Joseph. This he could not be supposed from his antecedent character to be willing to accept. On the contrary, being chosen by the National party a member of the Central Junta, he engaged with his accustomed energy on the other side until the Regency was formed, principally under his influence, to carry on the struggles for independence.

On this being effected, Jovellanos wished to retire to his native city apart from public affairs. At his advanced age, with cataracts formed in his eyes, and after his laborious life and painful imprisonment, rest was necessary for him; but he could not attain it. One of his first efforts in the Central Junta was to draw up a paper on the form of government to be adopted, and this he strongly recommended to be founded as nearly as possible on the model of the English constitution. But he was far too enlightened for the race of men with whom he had to act, and his prepossessions for English institutions were made a reproach against him, observes the editor of the last edition of his works, even by those who were striving to introduce the principles of the Constituent Assembly into Spain.

The miserable intrigues and jealousies of the leading members of the National party caused Jovellanos much anxiety. But he had fulfilled his duties as a Deputy, and those having ceased, he left Cadiz in February, 1810, to return to the Asturias, in a small sailing vessel. After a long and dangerous passage, during which they were in great danger of shipwreck, they arrived at Muros in Galicia, in which province he had to remain more than a year, in consequence of the Asturias being in the possession of the French, to whom he had now become doubly obnoxious.

In July, 1811, however, the French having left that part of Spain, Jovellanos was enabled to return to his native city, where he was again received as he always had been with every token of popular respect. He seems to have been always looked upon there with undeviating favour and gratitude, as their most honourable citizen and public benefactor. No one knew of his coming, says his biographer, but he was observed to enter the church, and kneel before the altar near his family burying-place, when the whole town was roused simultaneously, and a spontaneous illumination of the houses took place, with other tokens of public congratulations and rejoicing.

Here he now hoped to have a peaceful asylum for his latter years, engaged in the objects of public utility for which he had formerly laboured. But those labours were to be begun again. His favourite “Asturian Institute,” which he truly said, in one of his discourses, was identified with his existence, had been totally dismantled and used for barracks by the French. Having obtained authority from the Regency to do so, he began to put the building again into repair, and collect together the teachers and scholars. Having done this, he announced by circulars that it would be reopened the 20th of November following, when the news of the French returning compelled him again to fly on the 6th of that month. He set sail in a miserable coasting vessel for Ribadeo, where a ship was ready to take him to Cadiz or England as he might desire, in virtue of instructions given by the Regency, and in accordance with the English government. But further misfortunes only awaited him. The vessel in which he had to take refuge was cast on shore in a storm near the small port of Vega, on the confines of Asturias; and there, worn out with fatigue, and under a pulmonary affection, brought on by exposure to the weather, he died the 27th of November, 1811, a few days after his landing.

The news of his death was spread rapidly through Spain, notwithstanding the interrupted state of communications, and was everywhere received with regret as a national calamity. Those who had opposed his views did justice to the uprightness of his motives and character; and the Cortes, now assembled, passed a decree, by which in favour of his patriotism and public services, he was declared Benemerito de la Patria. This beautiful and classical acknowledgement of his worth was then also remarkable as a novelty, though it has been since rendered less honourable, by being awarded to others little deserving of peculiar distinction.

The life of Jovellanos, as intimately connected with the history of his country, is well deserving of extended study. But our province is rather to consider him as a poet. Eminent as a statesman for unimpeachable integrity and for wise administration of justice, he carried prudent reforms into every department under his control, in which, though subjected to many attacks, he proved himself, by a memoir published shortly before his death, in justification of his public conduct, to have been fully warranted. This memoir, for heartfelt eloquence, deserves to be ranked with Burke’s Letter to the Duke of Bedford. Jovellanos has been compared by his countrymen to Cicero. A writer in the Foreign Quarterly Review has instituted an ingenious parallel between him and Montesquieu. With either, or with Burke, he may be observed to have possessed the philosophy and feeling, which give eloquence its chief value and effect.

As a prose writer, Jovellanos, for elegance of style and depth of thought, may be pronounced without a rival in Spanish literature. As a dramatist, he only gave the public a tragedy and comedy, both of which continue in much favour with the public. The latter, “The Honourable Delinquent” is particularly esteemed; but it is a melodrame rather than a comedy, according to our conceptions. It turns on the principal character having been forced into fighting a duel, and who, having killed his opponent, is sentenced to die; but after the usual suspenses receives a pardon from the king. There are several interesting scenes and much good writing in the piece; but no particular delineation of character, to bring it any more than the other into the higher class of dramatic art. It has, however, been observed, that it only needs to have been written in verse to make it a perfect performance, and this alone shows the hold it must have on the Spanish reader.

As a poet, Jovellanos is chiefly to be commemorated for his Satires. Two of these, in which he lashes the vices and follies of society at Madrid,—“girt with the silent crimes of capitals,”—are pronounced by the critic in the Madrid Review to be “highly finished” compositions. They were, in fact, the only poems he himself published, and those anonymously. With the strength of Juvenal, they have also his faults, and abound too much in local allusions to be suited for translation. In somewhat the same style were several epistles he addressed to different friends, of which the one written to his friend and biographer Bermudez has been chosen for this work, as most characteristic of the author. Like his other Satires, it is written in blank verse; which style, though not entirely unknown in Spain, he had the merit of first bringing into favour. He probably gained his predilection for it from his study of Milton, for whose works he had great admiration, and of whose Paradise Lost he translated the first book into Spanish verse.

The Epistle to Bermudez is remarkable as written with much earnestness, in censure not only of the common vices and follies of mankind, but in also going beyond ordinary satirists into the sphere of the moralist, to censure the faults of the learned. What our great modern preacher Dr. Chalmers has termed the “practical atheism” of the learned, was indeed the subject of rebuke from many English writers, as Young and Cowper, but may be looked for in vain in the works of others. Jovellanos had no doubt read the former, at least in the translation of his friend Escoiquiz, and meditated on the sentiment,—“An undevout astronomer is mad,” even if not in the original. It can scarcely be supposed that he was so well acquainted with English literature as to have read Cowper; but there are several passages in his Epistles of similar sentiments. The praise of wisdom especially, in the one to Bermudez,—by which we may understand, was meant the wisdom urged by the kingly preacher of Jerusalem, or the rule of conduct founded on right principles, in opposition to mere learning,—is also that of our Christian poet:—

In his hours of leisure, Jovellanos employed himself in composing occasional verses at times, for the amusement of the society in which he lived, without thinking of their being ever sought for publication. These, however, have been lately gathered together with much industry and exactness in the last edition of his collected works, published by Mellado at Madrid in five volumes, 1845. As the last and fullest, it is also the best collection of them, four other editions of them previously published having been comparatively very deficient with regard to them. Besides those, there were various reprints of several others of his works, which were all received with much favour, both in Spain and abroad.

Jovellanos was never married, and in private life seems to have considered himself under the obligations of the profession for which he was originally intended. His character altogether is one to which it would be difficult to find a parallel, and is an honour to Spain as well as to Spanish literature. His virtues are now unreservedly admitted by all parties of his countrymen, who scarcely ever name him except with the epithet of the illustrious Jovellanos, to which designation he is indeed justly entitled, no less for his writings, than for his many public and private virtues and services to his country. These may be forgotten in the claims of other generations and succeeding statesmen; but his writings must ever remain to carry his memory wherever genius and worth can be duly appreciated.

The charge of writing a memoir of Jovellanos was entrusted by the Historical Society of Madrid to Cean Bermudez, who fulfilled it with affectionate zeal, Madrid, 1814; several other notices of his life have appeared in Spain, including that by Quintana, which has been copied by Wolf. The English reader will find an excellent one in the Foreign Quarterly Review, No. 10, February, 1830; and the Spanish scholar a further very eloquent encomium on his talents and merits in Quintana’s second Introduction to his collection of Spanish Poetry.

JOVELLANOS.

EPISTLE TO CEAN BERMUDEZ, ON THE VAIN DESIRES AND STUDIES OF MEN.

TO GALATEA’S BIRD.

TO ENARDA.—I.

TO ENARDA.—II.

II. TOMAS DE IRIARTE.

Of all the modern Spanish poets, Iriarte seems to have obtained for his writings the widest European reputation. He was born the 18th September 1750, at Teneriffe in the Canary Islands, where his family had been some time settled, though the name shows it to have been of Basque origin. His uncle, Juan de Iriarte, also a native of the same place, was one of the most learned men of his age, and to him the subject of this memoir was indebted for much of the knowledge he acquired, and means of attaining the eminence in literature he succeeded him in possessing. Juan de Iriarte had been partly educated in France, and had afterwards resided some time in England, so as to acquire a full knowledge of the language and literature of those countries. He was also a proficient in classical learning, and wrote Latin with great precision, as his writings, published by his nephew after his death, evince; Madrid, two volumes, 4to. 1774. Having been appointed keeper of the Royal Library at Madrid, he enriched it with many valuable works, in upwards of 2000 MSS. and 10,000 volumes. He was an active member of the Royal Spanish Academy, and one of the principal assistants in compiling the valuable dictionary and grammar published by that learned Society, as well as other works.

At the instance of this uncle, Tomas Iriarte went to Madrid in the beginning of 1764, when not yet fourteen years of age, and under that relative’s able guidance completed his studies, learning at the same time the English and other modern languages. He was already far advanced in a knowledge of classical literature, and it is stated that some Latin verses he wrote, on leaving his native place, showed such proficiency as to surprise his friends, and make them entertain great expectations of his future success. Some of his Latin compositions, published afterwards among his works, prove him to have been a scholar of very considerable acquirements. Classical literature does not seem in modern times to be much studied in Spain, and Iriarte is the only distinguished writer among the modern Spanish poets who can be pointed out as conspicuous for such attainments. Thus they have failed in apprehending one of the chief beauties of modern poetry, so remarkable in Milton and Byron, and our other great poets, who enrich their works with references that remind us of what had most delighted us in those of antiquity.

In 1771 his uncle died, and Tomas Iriarte, who had already been acting for him in one of his offices as Interpreter to the Government, was appointed to succeed him in it. He was afterwards, in 1776, appointed Keeper of the Archives of the Council of War; and these offices, with the charge of a paper under the influence of the government, seem to have been the only public employments he held. From one of his epistles, however, he appears to have succeeded to his uncle’s property, and thus to have had the means as also the leisure to give much of his time to the indulgence of literary tastes. He was very fond of paintings and of music, to which he showed his predilection, not only by his ability to play on several instruments, but also by writing a long didactic poem on the art, entitled ‘Musica.’ This he seems to have considered as giving him his principal claim to be ranked as a poet, though the world preferred his other writings.

When yet under twenty years of age, Iriarte had already appeared as a writer of plays, some of which met with considerable approbation. Of these it will be sufficient for us here to observe, that Moratin, the first great dramatic poet of Spain in modern times, pronounced one of them, ‘The Young Gentleman Pacified,’ to have been “the first original comedy the Spanish theatre had seen written according to the most essential rules dictated by philosophy and good criticism.”

Besides several original plays, Iriarte translated others from the French, from which language he also translated the ‘New Robinson’ of Campe, which passed through several editions. From Virgil he translated into Spanish verse the first four books of the Æneid, and from Horace the Epistle to the Pisos. These, though censured by some of his contemporaries so as to excite his anger, were altogether too superior to those attacks to have required the vindication of them he thought proper to publish. Horace seems to have been his favourite author; but he had not learned from him his philosophical equanimity, wherewith to pass over in silent endurance the minor miseries of life. Thus he allowed himself, throughout his short career, to be too much affected by those ungenerous attacks, which mediocrity is so apt to make on superior merit. The names of those censurers are now principally remembered by his notices of their writings; an honour, which men of genius, in their hours of irritation, too often confer on unworthy opponents. Thus a large portion of his collected works consists of these controversial notices, which, as usual in such cases, only impair the favourable effect produced by the remainder on the mind of the reader. Those works were first published in a collected form in six volumes, in 1786; afterwards in eight volumes, in 1805.

From Iriarte’s poetical epistles, which are eleven in number, he appears to have been a person of a very kindly disposition, as Quintana describes him, living in friendly intercourse with the principal literary characters of Spain, especially with the amiable and ill-fated Cadahalso, to whom, in one of those epistles, he dedicated his translations from Horace. The others also are mainly on personal topics, and display his character advantageously, though, as poetical compositions, they have not been received so favourably as some of his other works.

The fame of Iriarte may be said to rest on his literary fables, which have attained a popularity, both at home and abroad, equalled by few other works. They are eighty-two in number, and all original, having, as their title indicates, a special reference to literary questions, though they are also all sufficiently pointed to bear on those of ordinary life. Like Sir Joshua Reynolds’s Discourses on Painting, they convey general instructions to all, while professing an application to one particular pursuit. They are written with much vivacity and ease, yet with an appropriate terseness that adds to their effect. Martinez de la Rosa, equally eminent as a statesman, a poet and a critic, observes of them, that if he had not left compositions of any other class, they would have extended his reputation as a poet; and adds, “that they abound in beauties, though frequently wanting in poetical warmth, so as to recommend this valuable collection, unique in its class, as one of which Spanish literature has to be proud.”

Of these fables, first published in 1782, so many editions have appeared, that it would be a very difficult task to enumerate them. There is scarcely a provincial town in Spain, of any consequence, in which they have not been reprinted. Several editions have appeared in France, two in New York, and three in Boston, where they have been used in teaching Spanish. Several of the fables have been imitated by Florian, and translations have been made into other languages. Of these translations, one in French verse was published by M. Lanos, Paris, 1801, and another, in prose, by M. L’Homandie, ibid. 1804: into German they were translated by Bertuch, Leipzic, so early as 1788, and into Portuguese, by Velladoli, in 1801.

I am not aware of more than one edition of them in England, that published by Dulau, 1809; but there have been no fewer than three translations of them into English verse; first by Mr. Belfour, London, 1804, another by Mr. Andrews, ibid. 1835, and a third by Mr. Rockliff, ibid. 1851.

The same popularity attended another work which Iriarte prepared for the instruction of youth, named ‘Historical Lessons,’ published posthumously, about twenty editions of which have since appeared, principally from its having been adopted as a text-book for schools. Of this also an edition has been published in London by Boosey, and a translation into English. Iriarte’s industry appears to have been of the most practical character, and his endeavours were as wisely as they were unremittingly directed to make his countrymen wiser and better in their future generations. If a man’s worth may be estimated by such labours, few persons have ever lived who were so entitled to the gratitude of posterity, as few have ever effected so much as he did in the short career that was afforded him.

In private life, in the leisure allowed from his studies and duties, he indulged much, as has been already stated, in the recreation of music; and in praise and explanation of that favourite art he wrote his largest work, ‘Music,’ a didactic poem, in five cantos. Of this work, which was first published in 1780, the fifth separate edition appeared in 1805, since which I have not heard of any other. It has, however, had the good fortune to be translated into several foreign languages; into German by Bertuch, in 1789; into Italian by the Abbé Garzia, Venice, 1789; into French by Grainville, Paris, 1800; and into English by Mr. Belfour, London, 1807. The last-mentioned translation is made with much exactness and elegance into heroic verse; though, as the original had the fault usual to all didactic poems of not rising to any high poetical power, the translation must share the fault to at least an equal extent.

In the Italian version, a letter is quoted from the celebrated Metastasio, in which he speaks of the style of Iriarte’s poem as “so harmonious, perspicuous and easy, as to unite the precision of a treatise with the beauties common to poetry.” It is said also that Metastasio further pronounced the poem to be “not only excellent, but to be considered uncommon, in having successfully treated a subject so difficult, and apparently so little adapted to poetry.” It is to be observed that Iriarte had warmly eulogized Metastasio in the book, so as to merit the commendation. The first canto is confined to treating the subject artistically, and will therefore prove less to the taste of the general reader than the other cantos, which are of a more interesting character, and may be read with pleasure by persons who do not understand music as a science. The third canto especially is written with much spirit in its praise, as connected with devotion. The second canto treats of the passions as they may be expressed by music, including martial music. The fourth minutely discusses theatrical music, with its excellences and defects. The fifth explains it, as calculated for the amusement of societies, or individuals in solitude. The poem concludes with pointing out what ought to be the study of a good composer, and by a proposal for the establishment of an academy of music, or scientific body of musicians, anticipating the benefit to science that would result from such an institution.

This poem, the ‘Musica,’ and the Epistles, are written in a very favourite style of versification in Spain, denominated the Silva, which consists of lines of eleven syllables, varied occasionally with others of seven, rhyming at the pleasure of the writer. The ‘Literary Fables’ are written in various metres; Martinez de la Rosa observes in upwards of forty different kinds, appropriate to the characteristics of the subjects, which may be more perceptible to a native ear than to a foreigner’s. It is certainly true that this gives a variety to the work which is well suited to the purposes the author had in view. He was wise enough to know that truths hidden in the garb of fiction will often be felt effectually, where grave precepts would not avail,

and thus conveyed his lessons in examples, with a moral, which could be quickly understood and easily remembered.

With regard to the objection made to these fables, that they are often deficient in poetical warmth or colouring, it may be observed that the subjects would scarcely admit of any. Iriarte was certainly a writer of more poetic taste than talent, and it must be acknowledged that his genius, judging by the works he left, was not one to soar to the higher flights of poetry. He felt this himself, as he intimates in his Epistle to his brother; and, choosing a subject like Music for a didactic poem, or writing familiar epistles on occasional subjects, did not give himself much scope for fancy, much less for passion. But as applied to the fables, the objection was unnecessary. If they deserved praise for their vivacity of style, that very circumstance, independent of the subjects, rendered them passionless, ἀπαθέστατα, as Longinus remarks, where stronger feelings could scarcely be brought into connexion with such discussions. The great difficulty in such cases is, when metres are chosen to suit the subject, abounding in pyrrhics, trochees, and such measures, as the same great critic adds, to guard, lest the sense be lost in too much regard to the sound, raising only attention to the rhythm, instead of exciting any feeling in the minds of the hearers.

Of the five fables chosen for translation, the two first were taken from Bouterwek, and the third on account of its having been particularly noticed by Martinez de la Rosa. The Epistle to his Brother was selected partly on account of its notices of other countries, as a foreigner’s judgement of them; and partly as being most characteristic of the writer, showing his tastes and dispositions more perhaps than the rest. The reader generally feels most interested in such parts of the works of favourite writers, especially when their private history gives the imagination a right to ask sympathy for their sufferings.

Nothing is to be found in Iriarte’s works to show any peculiar opinions on religion, though the tendency of his mind is everywhere clearly seen, as leading to freedom of thought, instead of subjection to dogmas. In his poem on Music, as already intimated, some devotional rather than free-thinking principles are developed; yet it is said that it was from a suspicion of his being affected by the French philosophy of the day he fell under the censure of the Inquisition, and was seized in 1786, and imprisoned three years in the dungeons of that institution. What was the particular offence imputed to him has not been stated. It could be no question of a political character, for he was in the employment of the government, and was amenable to it for any misdeeds. It probably was from some private cause, under the cloak of a question of faith, that he had to undergo this imprisonment, during which it is said he had to submit to severe penances before he could obtain his liberty. After he had obtained it, he returned to his studies and wrote further, a monologue, entitled ‘Guzman,’ and some Latin maccaronic verses on the bad taste of some writers then in vogue. But his spirits were no doubt broken down, as his health and strength were undermined; and thus it was that he died two years after, though his death was imputed to his sedentary habits and gout, the 17th of September, 1791, when he had just completed his forty-first year.

This untimely death was a serious loss to Spanish literature. With his great and varied acquirements and unremitting industry, the world might have expected still more valuable works from him, when, at the age of thirty-six, in the best period of a man’s existence for useful labours, he was cast into that dungeon, from which he seems to have been permitted to come out only to die. The last Auto da fe in Spain was celebrated in 1781; but the Inquisition had other victims whose sufferings were no less to be deplored, though not made known. If Iriarte was one, he had unquestionably the consciousness of being enabled to feel, though not dying “an aged man,” yet that in his comparatively short life, he had not lived in vain for his own good name, and the benefit of posterity.

TOMAS DE IRIARTE.

EPISTLE TO DON DOMINGO DE IRIARTE, ON HIS TRAVELLING TO VARIOUS FOREIGN COURTS.

FABLES.

THE BEAR, THE MONKEY AND THE HOG.

THE ASS AND THE FLUTE.

THE TWO RABBITS.

THE LAMB AND HIS TWO ADVISERS.

THE FLINT AND THE STEEL.

III. JUAN MELENDEZ VALDES.

For a hundred years after the time of Calderon de la Barca, who died in 1687, there appeared in Spain no writer of sufficient merit to be classed among those eminent characters, who had done so much honour to Spanish literature in the seventeenth century. Verses were published in sufficient abundance, which found readers and even admirers, merely from the necessity the public felt of having something to read and to admire, as of the fashion of the day. But they were written with a perversion of taste and a deficiency of talent, which was truly astonishing, in the successors of such authors, as had immediately preceded them.

This depression of literature, however, could not be expected to continue long, among a people of such imaginative and deep passioned character as the Spanish, whose native genius was by far too buoyant, to be affected for any length of time by inferior models, even under dynastic influences. Accordingly, towards the end of the eighteenth century, it might have become apparent to an attentive observer, that another order of writers was about to be called forth, and that the nation was prepared to welcome the advent of true genius whenever it was to be recognized. Learned societies had been established throughout Spain; education on a sound basis had been sedulously promoted; and the country was wealthy, and sufficiently flourishing to give incitement to the arts, which are the attendants of public prosperity.

At this epoch appeared Melendez Valdes, the restorer of Spanish poetry, as his admirers with much justice termed him; who then showed by his writings, that the old inspiration of the national genius was yet capable of being revived in all its former grace and strength; and who by the influence of his example further roused the energies of other men of genius to follow in his steps.

This highly gifted poet was born the 11th of March, 1754, at Ribera del Fresno in the province of Estremadura, where his parents were of what was called noble families, and, what was more important, in respectable circumstances. The good disposition noticed in the son determined them to destine him for study, and to award him a becoming education. Thus, having learned the rudiments of Latin at home, he was sent to study philosophy, or what was called philosophy, at Madrid, under the charge of the Dominican Fathers of St. Thomas, where his application and advancement gained him the esteem of his tutors and fellow-pupils. Thence he was sent by his parents in 1770 to Segovia, to study with his only brother, who was private secretary to the bishop of that city, and with whom he was confirmed in that fondness for reading, and taste for acquiring books, which might be called the passion of his whole life. The bishop, who was a distant relation, pleased with his talents and inclination for study, sent him in 1772 to Salamanca, the alma mater of Spain, and assisted him to proceed in the study of law, in which he distinguished himself wherever he had an opportunity; so that, says his biographer, “appearing absorbed in the pursuit of that career, no one would have judged him the same young man, whose inclination for poetry and learning was soon after to place him at the head of the elegant literature of his country.”

Fortunately for Melendez, continues his biographer, there happened then to be at Salamanca Don Josè de Cadalso, “a man celebrated for extensive erudition, combined with more than ordinary talent for poetry and letters, and a zeal for the glory and advancement of his country, learned in the school, and under the inspiration of virtue. Generous and affable, always lively, and at times satirical without branching off into maliciousness, his conversation was kind and instructive, and his principles indulgent and steadfast.” This eminent individual, already well known in the literary world by several works published in 1772 and 1773, immediately recognized the value of Melendez: he took him to his house to live with him, showed him the beauties and defects of the older writers, taught him how to imitate them, and opened to him the road to become acquainted with the literature of the learned nations of Europe. “He afforded him an instruction yet more precious, in the beautiful example he gave him to love all writers of merit, to rise superior to envy, and to cultivate letters without degrading them by unworthy disputations. The eulogies Cadalso bestowed on his contemporaries are a public testimony of this noble character; and the works of Melendez, where there is not a single line detracting from the merit of any one, and his whole literary career, exempt from all attack, show how he profited by the lessons of his master.”

The Anacreontic style, in which Cadalso excelled, was also that first cultivated by Melendez; and the former, seeing the progress of his pupil, and the first efforts of his Muse, unreservedly acknowledged him his superior, and in prose and verse announced him as the restorer of good taste and the better studies of the University. This kindly union was maintained until the death of Cadalso, at the siege of Gibraltar; and the “Elegiac song of Melendez on this misfortune, will be, as long as the Spanish language endures, a monument of affection and gratitude, as well as an example of high and beautiful poetry.”

Beyond the instructions which he received from Cadalso, Melendez was aided by the example and counsels of other distinguished persons then residing at Salamanca, among whom were two, favourably known as writers of verse, Iglesias and Gonzalez. These, though they were soon eclipsed by the young poet, admitted him to their friendship. By the latter he was brought into communication with the illustrious Jovellanos, then Judge of the High Court at Seville; and between them soon was instituted a correspondence, which has been in great part preserved, though as yet unpublished; a valuable monument, says Quintana, in which are seen, “livingly portrayed, the candour, the modesty and virtuous feelings of the poet, the alternate progress of his studies, the different attempts in which he essayed his talents, and above all, the profound respect and almost idolatry with which he revered his Mæcenas. There may be seen how he employed his time and varied his tasks. At first he applied himself to Greek, and began to translate Homer and Theocritus into verse; but learning the immense difficulty of the undertaking, and not stimulated to it by the bent of his genius, he shortly abandoned it.”

He then dedicated himself to the English language and literature, for which he was said to have ever had an exceeding great predilection, observing, “that to the Essay on the Human Understanding, he should owe all his life the little he might know how to acquire.” As books came to his hands, he went on reading and forming his judgements upon them, the which he transmitted to his friend. Thus “by all the means in his power he endeavoured to acquire and increase that treasury of ideas, which so much contributes to perfection in the art of writing, and without which verses are nothing more than frivolous sounds.”

His application to study, however, soon proved more than his health and strength would permit. He was obliged to leave Salamanca, and repair to the banks of the Tormes, which he has made famous in song, and there, by long attention to the regimen imposed on him, he fortunately recovered. About this time his brother died in 1777, their parents having died previously; and Melendez suffered much grief, as might naturally be expected, on being thus left alone of his family, the more painful in his state of health. Jovellanos urged him to join him at Seville, but he declined the invitation, observing, that “the law of friendship itself, which commands us to avail ourselves of a friend in necessity, also commands that without it, we should not take advantage of his confidence.”

Study, to which he now returned to engage himself with more intensity than ever, was the best alleviant of his sorrow, and time as usual at length allayed it. “He then gave himself up to the reading and study of the English poets: Pope and Young enchanted him. Of the former, he said that four lines of his ‘Essay on Man’ were worth more, taught more, and deserved more praise than all his own compositions.” The latter he attempted to imitate, and in effect did so, in the poem on ‘Night and Solitude,’ but in remitting it to his friend, expressed with much feeling his sense of its deficiencies compared with the original. Thomson also he studied, and Gesner, in his lonely exercises by the Tormes, and acknowledged how much he was indebted to the former for many thoughts with which he subsequently enriched his pastoral poems.

Thus having prepared himself to appear before the literary world as a candidate for fame, an opportunity soon occurred for him to obtain distinction. The Spanish Academy had been proposing subjects for prizes, and then having given one for an Eclogue, ‘On the happiness of a country life,’ Melendez felt himself in his element, and sent in his Essay for the prize. This succeeded in receiving the first. The second was awarded to Iriarte, who showed his mortification on account of the preference, more sensibly than was becoming, under the circumstances.

In the following year, 1781, Melendez went to Madrid, where his friend Jovellanos had already been appointed Councillor of the Military Orders, when for the first time they met. Melendez was already in the road to fame, which his friend had foretold for him; and Jovellanos, delighted with the realization of his hopes and endeavours, received him into his house, introduced him to his society, and took every opportunity of advancing his interests. It was the custom of the Academy of San Fernando to give triennial celebrations, with much solemnity, for the distribution of prizes, when eloquence, poetry and music were tasked to do honour to the fine arts. One of these celebrations was about to take place; Jovellanos was engaged to pronounce a discourse, and Melendez was invited to exercise his genius on the same subject, as the first literary characters of preceding times had already given the example. Melendez acceded, and delivered accordingly his Ode on the Glory of the Arts, which was received with rapturous admiration, and ever since seems to have been considered his masterpiece.

In the midst of these successes, Melendez received the Professorship of Humanities in his University, and in the following year, 1782, proceeded to the degree of Licentiate, and in 1783 to that of Doctor of Law, having shortly before the last married a lady of one of the principal families of Salamanca. But as his professorship gave him little occupation, and his marriage no family, he remained free to continue his favourite studies.

In 1784, on the occasion of peace being made with England, and the birth of twin Infantes, to give hopes of secure succession to the throne, the city of Madrid prepared magnificent celebrations of rejoicings, and among the rest, a prize was proposed for the two best dramatic pieces that might be offered within sixty days, under the condition that they should be original, appropriate, and capable of theatrical pomp and ornament. Out of fifty-seven dramas that were offered, the prize was awarded to the one sent in by Melendez, ‘The Bridals of Comacho the Rich,’ a pastoral comedy, which, however, though abounding in poetical passages, was found on representation wanting in effect, so as to be coldly received on the stage, where it has not since been attempted.

This ill-success gave occasion to several detractors of Melendez to pour forth the effusions of envy or disappointment against him, to which he gave no other answer than by the publication of his poems in a collected form. This was in 1785; and the manner in which they were received, it could be said, had had no parallel in Spain. Four editions, of which three were furtive, were at once taken up, and all classes of persons seemed to have the book in hand, commenting on its excellences. The lovers of ancient poetry, who saw so happily renewed the graces of Garcilasso, of Leon and Herrera, and “even improved in taste and perfection,” saluted Melendez as the restorer of the Castillian Muses, and hailed the banishment of the prosaic style which had previously prevailed. The applauses extended beyond the kingdom, and found especially in Italy the admiration repeated, as well as in France and England, where several of the poems are said to have been imitated.

Great as was his success in literature, it was not enough provision for his daily needs, notwithstanding the help of his professorship; and Melendez accordingly applied for and obtained an office as a local judge at Zaragoza, of which he took possession in September 1789. The duties of this office were too onerous to admit of much study; but he was soon removed, in 1791, to the chancery of Valladolid, where he had more leisure, and where he remained till 1797, when he was appointed Fiscal of the Supreme Court at Madrid. During this time he wrote apparently little; but he prepared, and in 1797 published, another edition of his works with two additional volumes, enriched with many new poems, in which he “had elevated his genius to the height of his age;”—“descriptive passages of a superior order, elegies powerful and pathetic, odes grand and elevated, philosophic and moral discourses and epistles, in which he took alternately the tone of Pindar, of Homer, of Thomson, and of Pope, and drew from the Spanish lyre accents she had not previously learned.”

But notwithstanding the great merit of many of these poems, the biographer of Melendez had it to confess that this publication was not so favourably received as the first had been; and attempts to account for it partly by the circumstances of the times, and partly by what was new not being on the whole so finished and well-sustained in interest as his former poems. Some of them also met with decided disfavour; especially one, ‘The Fall of Lucifer,’ which showed that his genius was not of the severer cast calculated for graver and higher subjects allied to the epic, any more than to the dramatic. But the merits of Melendez in his own sphere are too great, and his fame is too well-founded to lose by acknowledgements which must be made in truth and justice. It is not improbable that he had been urged by his admirers to these attempts, to which his own inclinations would not have led him, and it might thus have been the easiness of his disposition that made him yield to suggestions which ended in failure.

In the prologue which he affixed to this edition, Melendez attempted to prove that poetic studies derogated nothing from the judicial dignity, and that they had no incompatibility with the duties and talents of a public man or man of business. But without following him or his biographer into such a discussion, we may concede the point so far, that any one undertaking responsible duties from the State, is bound to give them his best and undivided energies. If, however, he has any hours of leisure free from those responsibilities, it is surely only an extension of his duty for him to employ them in attempting to make his fellow-men wiser and better, or happier, in the manner most congenial to his disposition or talents. Melendez certainly had no need to exculpate himself in this respect, having been “long remembered at Zaragoza and Valladolid as a model of integrity and application, for his zeal in arranging amicably all disputations in his power, for his affability and frankness in listening to complaints, and for the humane and compassionate interest with which he visited the prisoners, accelerating their causes, and affording them assistance, with an inseparable adhesion to justice.” It was for his detractors,—and Melendez had them, notwithstanding the amiability of his character and the superiority of his talents,—to make these objections, if they could have done so. His resorting to such apologies only gave the appearance of a consciousness of weakness, which was not becoming either in the one character or the other.

Shortly after the publication of this edition, Melendez went to Madrid to take possession of his new office. The advanced age of his predecessor in it had for some time prevented his due attention to its duties, so that Melendez had many arrears to dispose of in addition to the ordinary services, through all which he laboured with much assiduity and credit. But they were the last satisfactory events of his life, which was henceforth to be passed in reverses and misery. Yet at that time he seemed to be in the height of prosperity. Holding an elevated post under the government, of which his friend Jovellanos was a member, and respected both at home and abroad as one of the first literary characters of the age, he might have justly hoped to be free from any of the darker misfortunes of life. This exemption, however, was not to be his lot, serving under a despotic government, of which the head, Charles IV., was one of the weakest-minded of mortals, guided by a favourite such as Godoy. When Jovellanos fell under this favourite’s resentment, to make the blow inflicted on that illustrious individual more poignant, it was extended to others, whose only fault was that they shared his esteem. Melendez was ordered away from Madrid within twenty-four hours, though his friends procured for him soon after a commission from the government as inspector of barracks at Medina del Campo, where he gave himself up again to study and such duties as were assigned him. Beyond these, however, he particularly exerted himself, it is recorded, in attending to the sick at the hospitals, providing that they should not be sent out into the world, as had often been previously the case, imperfectly cured or clothed, and unable to effect their livelihood.

In this humble occupation he might have been supposed exempt at least from further malignity, but unfortunately some sycophant of power thought it would be pleasing to the favourite to have a frivolous accusation forwarded against him, which had the effect of his being sent on half salary to Zamora. There he was fortunate enough to have the intrigues against him made known, and in June 1802, he received a royal order to have his full salary allowed, with liberty to reside where he pleased. He would have preferred Madrid, but he found it most prudent to return to Salamanca, and there, arranging his house and library, began to enjoy a more peaceful life than what he had passed since he left the University.

The literary world might now have hoped for further efforts of genius in this asylum, and perhaps some superior work worthy of his talents and fame; but his spirits had been broken down by adversity and injustice, and his attention was distracted by hopes and fears, from which he could never free himself. A poem on Creation, and a translation of the Æneid, were the fruits of six years’ retirement from the world; and he proposed another edition of his works, which however he did not accomplish, on the rapid succession of events which again called him forth to a short period of active life, and subsequent years of suffering.

The revolution of Aranjuez brought Melendez to Madrid, in the hopes of recovering his former employments; but in the troubled state of the country, he soon wished to return to his house, without being able to effect it. The French had now made themselves masters of the capital, and Melendez was unfortunately induced to take office under them. This conduct was contrary, not only to the course taken by Jovellanos and his other friends, but also to the whole tenor of his former life and opinions. His easy temper, which had at all times led him submissive to the wishes of those who had his confidence, no doubt on this occasion had been influenced by persons near him, and he might have thought it a hopeless struggle to contend with Napoleon.

Having however engaged in this unpatriotic service, he was sent as a commissioner, on the part of the intrusive government, to the Asturias, where the people had already risen in vindication of the national independence. Melendez and his colleague were seized by the populace, notwithstanding the efforts of the local authorities, who had placed them for security in the prison, the doors of which were forced, and they were led out to be put to death. All entreaties were in vain. Melendez protested his attachment to the national cause, and even began reciting some patriotic verses he had been writing, but the excited multitude would not hear him. They added insults to menaces, and as a great favour only permitted them to confess before they should be executed. Thus a little time was gained; but this was at length concluded and they were tied to a tree, and the party prepared to shoot them, when a dispute arose whether they should be shot from in front or behind as traitors, a piece of etiquette in such cases considered of importance. The latter counsel prevailed, and the prisoners had to be loosened and tied again accordingly, when the authorities and religious orders of the place, with a particular Cross famous among them, appeared approaching for their rescue. The people hereon became calmed, and Melendez and his colleague were taken back to the prison, whence they were soon permitted to return to Madrid.