Few events after this are recorded of his life. He visited Madrid; and the royal council confided to him the task of the revision and correction of the works of St. Theresa de Jesu, which were much mutilated, and of preparing them for the press. About the same time, there was attempted the reform of his order in Portugal, a work of importance and difficulty to the catholic church. The assistance of Luis de Leon was required, and it is supposed that he even made a journey to Portugal for that purpose. In 1591, he was named vicar-general of his province, and soon afterward elected provincial; but he did not long enjoy this honour: nine days after his election he was attacked by some acute malady. The Spanish biographers take pains to assure us of the edifying piety of his end; and we can easily believe that a man who in youth was entirely dedicate to religion, should in the calmness of old age and in the hour of death, reap from his belief the composure of spirit that makes a happy end. He died on the 23d of August 1591; in the sixty-fourth year of his age.
In person, Luis Ponce de Leon is described as of fair height, well-proportioned in person, vigorous and robust. His countenance was manly, and the expression, despite the vivaciousness of his eyes, serious and calm. His mind was ever bent on religious objects: he seems to have forgotten his high birth and the splendour of his name, and to have aspired only to Christian humility. Love of poetry and classical literature were the only objects that ever called his attention from pious contemplations; and these he followed chiefly in his youth. "God gifted him," says Sedano, "with a noble birth he adorned him with understanding and extraordinary talents; he made him the son of a house abounding in riches and prosperity, and bestowed on him religious and literary honours; and it was necessary, for the sake of proving his virtues and purifying his soul, to visit him with the misfortunes belonging to the age in which he lived, proportionate to the greatness of his gifts." Sad as it is to reflect on an age and country in which virtues so exemplary, and talents so exalted, met with unmerited persecution, we are almost glad to find that one of the pillars of the very institutions that exercised such barbarous sway, was visited by its cruelty and injustice, to prove that no obedience and no excellence could shelter even the submissive slaves of despotism from its tyranny. Luis de Leon had indeed a soul at once above submission and suffering. He bowed before a higher than earthly power, and was exalted above persecution through his very humility—a proud humility, mixed with a consciousness of strength and worth. On his liberation from prison, and restoration to his professor's chair, all Salamanca flocked to hear his first lecture, drawn thither by reverence and curiosity. Luis de Leon appeared serene and cheerful, and commenced as if nothing had happened; nor alluded to the long interval, filled with such misery, that had intervened since his last lecture, beginning thus:—"We said yesterday that he had a willow for his symbol, and at its foot a hatchet, with this inscription, 'Through injury and death.' Nobleness, virtue, and generosity spring up under the very attacks of adversity and persecution. A willow the more it is cut, so much the more vigorously does it throw out its shoots; and for this cause has it its name (salix) from the vigour with which it sprouts, and the swiftness of its growth."[25] And thus he adopted for his emblem, a pruned tree with the knife at its foot, and the motto "Ab ipso ferro."
As a theologian, his works are held in high repute. It is to his praise that, though austere and regular as a monk, he yet studied the liberal arts with assiduity and success. He was well versed in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, besides being entire master of his native Castilian. His poetry is held in great estimation: the purity and elegance of his style are unsurpassed. Those Spaniards, who are addicted to the tinsel of versification, accuse him of want of loftiness; but nothing can exceed the harmony and flow of his verse, the grace and propriety of his ideas, and the truth and simplicity—the extreme ease and animation, of his style. It is unornamented—but for that very reason, more purely poetic. The most perfect of his compositions is his "Ode to Tranquil Life," in which he dwells with brooding, earnest delight on all the objects, and all the reveries that bless a man, content in solitude. His religious poetry comes less home to our hearts: it is so entirely catholic, but all is marked by enthusiasm and sincerity.
As a translator, he holds a high place; though he may be said rather to paraphrase than translate his models. He thus rendered into Spanish many of the odes of Horace, and various others selected from Pindar, Tibullus, and Theocritus. He translated all the Eclogues of Virgil, and the first book of his Georgies. He tells us, that he endeavoured to make the ancient poets speak as they would have expressed themselves, had they been born in his own age, in Castile, and had written in Castilian. In an inferior poet this attempt had been indiscreet and rash, but Luis de Leon was so much master of style and harmony, that it is impossible to regret the new costume with which he invests our old favourites. He is chiefly blamed because the beauty of his paraphrases is so great: and they have taken such hold of Spanish readers, that they preclude all future attempts at more literal translation. This is of slight import. If the poems he gives us in Castilian are in themselves beautiful, the Spanish reader must be satisfied. A vigorous desire to have a perfect understanding of the originals ought to lead to the study of them in their native language—the only way really to attain it, and, to a Castilian, not a difficult one.
Were there a good translation of the ode
"Que descansada vida,"
we should prefer quoting it, as most characteristic of the peculiar imagery and feeling of the poet. As it is, we are tempted to present Mr. Wiffen's spirited translation of his ode on the Moorish invasion: the animation and fire which it breathes has made it a favourite, and shows that Luis de Leon was confined to didactic subjects rather from choice, than by the necessity or narrowness of his genius.
"As by Tagus' billowy bed,[26]
King Rodrigo, safe from sight,
With the lady Cava fed
On the fruit of loose delight;
From the river's placid breast,
Slow its ancient Genius broke;
Of the scrolls of fate possess'd,
Thus the frowning prophet spoke:
'In an evil hour dost thou,
Ruthless spoiler, wanton here!
Shouts and clangours even now,
Even now assail mine ear—
Shout and sound of clashing shield,
Shiver'd sword, and rushing car—
All the frenzy of the field!—
All the anarchy of war!
'O what wail and weeping spring
Forth from this, thine hour of mirth,
From you fair and smiling thing,
Who in an evil hour had birth!
In an evil day for Spain
Plighted in your guilty troth—
Fatal triumph! costly gain
To the sceptre of the Goth!