in the days of the greatness of Rome, was to the Greek. The
conqueror had less ingenuity, less taste, less delicacy of
perception than the conquered; but far more pride, firmness, and
courage, a more solemn demeanour, a stronger sense of honour. The
subject had more subtlety in speculation, the ruler more energy
in action. The vices of the former were those of a coward; the
vices of the latter were those of a tyrant. It may be added, that
the Spaniard, like the Roman, did not disdain to study the arts
and the language of those whom he oppressed. A revolution took
place in the literature of Spain, not unlike that revolution
which, as Horace tells us, took place in the poetry of Latium:
"Capta ferum victorem cepit." The slave took prisoner the
enslaver. The old Castilian ballads gave place to sonnets in the
style of Petrarch, and to heroic poems in the stanza of Ariosto,
as the national songs of Rome were driven out by imitations of
Theocritus, and translations from Menander.

In no modern society, not even in England during the reign of
Elizabeth, has there been so great a number of men eminent at
once in literature and in the pursuits of active life, as Spain
produced during the sixteenth century. Almost every distinguished
writer was also distinguished as a soldier or a politician.
Boscan bore arms with high reputation. Garcilaso de Vega, the
author of the sweetest and most graceful pastoral poem of modern
times, after a short but splendid military career, fell sword in
hand at the head of a storming party. Alonzo de Ercilla bore a
conspicuous part in that war of Arauco, which he afterwards
celebrated in one of the best heroic poems that Spain has
produced. Hurtado de Mendoza, whose poems have been compared to
those of Horace, and whose charming little novel is evidently the