commander's name was made good by a copious Chilian poet, Pedro de Oña, in his _Arauco domado_ (1596), which closed with the capture of "Richerte Aquines" (as who should say Richard Hawkins); and, in the following year, Diego de Santisteban y Osorio added a fourth and fifth part to the original _Araucana_. Neither imitation is of real poetic worth, and, as versified history, they are inferior to the _Elegías de Varones ilustres de Indias_ of Juan de Castellanos (?1510-?1590), a priest who in youth had served in America, and who rhymed his reminiscences with a conscientious regard for fact more laudable in a chronicler than a poet. But we turn from these elaborate historical failures to religious work of real beauty, and the first that offers itself is the famous sonnet "To Christ Crucified," familiar to English readers in a free version ascribed to Dryden:— "_O God, Thou art the object of my love, Not for the hopes of endless joys above, Nor for the fear of endless pains below Which those who love Thee not must undergo: For me, and such as me, Thou once didst bear The ignominious cross, the nails, the spear, A thorny crown transpierced Thy sacred brow, What bloody sweats from every member flow! For me, in torture Thou resign'st Thy breath, Nailed to the cross, and sav'dst me by Thy death: Say, can these sufferings fail my heart to move? What but Thyself can now deserve my love? Such as then was and is Thy love to me, Such is, and shall be still, my love to Thee. Thy love, O Jesus, may I ever sing, O God of love, kind Parent, dearest King._" The authorship is referred to Ignacio Loyola, to Francisco Xavier, to Pedro de los Reyes, and to the Seraphic Mother, SANTA TERESA DE JESÚS, whose name in the world was Teresa de Cepeda y Ahumada (1515-82). None of these attributions can be sustained, and _No me mueve, mi Dios, para quererte_ must be classed as anonymous.[13] Yet its fervour and unction are such as to suggest its ascription to the Saint of the Flaming Heart. Santa Teresa is not only a glorious saint and a splendid figure in the annals of religious thought: she ranks as a miracle of genius, as, perhaps, the greatest woman who ever handled pen, the single one of all her sex who stands beside the world's most perfect masters. Macaulay has noted, in a famous essay, that Protestantism has gained not an inch of ground since the middle of the sixteenth century. Ignacio Loyola and Santa Teresa are the life and brain of the Catholic reaction: the former is a great party chief, the latter belongs to mankind.