Beyond the ‘History of Perez del Pulgar,’ Martinez de la Rosa has written several other works in prose, one of which, the latest, entitled ‘Spirit of the Age,’ is in fact, so far as yet published, a History of the French Revolution, preceded by a few general observations on political questions. It has already advanced to six volumes, and becoming a political and philosophical history of contemporaneous events, may be extended to the utmost limits. A novel which he wrote earlier in life, ‘Donna de Solis,’ is acknowledged a failure, as showing “that no man, however eminent, can write successfully on all kinds of subjects.”
The principal literary success which Martinez de la Rosa has had, seems to have been as a dramatist; but into those works it would be impossible to enter, to treat them with justice, except by making them a prominent subject of consideration. His poems, published as before stated in 1833, contain compositions in various styles, from the light Anacreontic to the project of an Epic Poem on the Wars of Granada, of which, however, he has only published fragments. Besides a translation of Horace’s ‘Art of Poetry,’ he has also given the world an ‘Ars Poetica,’ for the benefit of his own countrymen, which he has enriched with many excellent notes and criticisms.
Some of the rules laid down in this ‘Ars Poetica’ are well worthy of study, as giving room for reflection, for carrying their suggestions even further than he has done. Thus, while insisting on the young poet depending on the excellency of his ear for the melody of verse, instead of having to count the syllables for the requisite purpose, he observes, that as the ancients regulated their metres by time, making so many long or short feet of equivalent measure, of which the judgement must depend on the cadence, so in the verses of the best Spanish poets, there are often some lines containing three or four more syllables than others, to which they form the counterpart, and which are read in the same measure, with increased pleasure for the variation.
The same [observation may apply to English verse], though perhaps not so fully. Many of our syllables containing shortly sounded vowels, such as a Hebrew scholar might call Sheva and its compounds, pronounced distinctly, but two in the time of an ordinary syllable, may be found to give an elegance to the line, which would sound faulty with only one of them. But we may go further, and observe, that as in music the melody may be continued by the pause, instead of a note in the bar, so in a line, a pause with one or more long syllables may have the effect of a syllable, instead of the sound or foot to make up the measure. Readers of poetry will not require to be reminded of instances of this adaptation of sounds, and if they notice any such lines in these translations, they will perceive that they have been written in accordance with the precepts referred to.
It must be acknowledged, that in the generality of his poems, Martinez de la Rosa has not risen to any such height of sublimity or fancy as to give him a place in the superior class of poets. But one of the latest critical writers, Ferrer del Rio, who has given a more disparaging estimate of his poetical talents than justice might award, pronounces the ‘Epistle to the Duke de Frias’ as a composition for which “judges the most grave and least complaisant might place him on the top of Parnassus.” The ‘Remembrance of Spain,’ Del Rio declares to be poor in images, without feeling or depth, but with much of pastoral innocency. The ‘Return to Spain’ is, according to him, a mere itinerary of his travels, more than an expression of pleasure on escaping from past evil. But in the ‘Epistle to the Duke de Frias,’ he finds “true-felt inspiration, an appropriate expression, and a plan well traced out,”—“without vagueness or artificial labour, but with phrases that soften and ideas that satisfy the mind,” becoming the subject.
Another anonymous critic finds the writer dwelling too much on the remembrance of his own sorrows, instead of offering consolation to the mourner, and some incongruity in felicitating him on having witnessed the last pangs of mortality. But these topics, on such an occasion, are true to nature. Grief is apt to be egotistical, and the mind cannot but dwell on the subject in which it is absorbed. Nor is the other a less natural suggestion; and thus we may observe, that the great master of antiquity represents the sweetest of his characters lamenting that she had not been by the side of her lord at such a time, as the height of her misfortune, to receive his last embrace, and his last word to be remembered ever after:—
Ἕκτορ, ἐμοὶ δὲ μάλιστα λελείψεται ἄλγεα λυγρά.
Οὐ γάρ μοι θνήσκων λεχέων ἐκ χεῖρας ὄρεξας
Οὐ δὲ τί μοι εἶπες πυκινὸν ἔπος, οὖ τέ κεν αἰεὶ
Μεμνῄμην νύκτας τε καὶ ἤματα δακρυχέουσα.