worthless sequel due to the Italian, Giulio Monti. The action of French tradition is visible in NICOLÁS FERNÁNDEZ DE MORATÍN (1737-80), whose _Hormesinda_ (1770), a dramatic exercise in Racine's manner, too highly rated by literary friends, was condemned by the public. His prose dissertations consist of invectives against Lope and Calderón, and of eulogies on Luzán's cold verse. These are all forgotten, and Moratín, who remained a good patriot, despite his efforts to Gallicise himself, survives at his best in his brilliant panegyric on bull-fighting—the _Fiesta de Toros en Madrid_—whose spirited _quintillas_, modelled after Lope's example, are in every Spaniard's memory. Moratín's friend, JOSÉ DE CADALSO Y VÁZQUEZ (1741-1782), a colonel in the Bourbon Regiment, after passing most of his youth in Paris, travelled through England, Germany, and Italy, returning as free from national prejudices as a young man can hope to be. A certain elevation of character and personal charm made him a force among his intimates, and even impressed strangers; as we may judge by the fact that, when he was killed at the siege of Gibraltar, the English army wore mourning for him. His more catholic taste avoided the exaggerations of Nasarre and Moratín; he found praise for the national theatre, and many of his verses imply close study of Villegas and Quevedo. Even so, his attachment to the old school was purely theoretical. His knowledge of English led him to translate in verse—as Luzán had already translated in prose—passages from _Paradise Lost_; his sepulchral _Noches Lúgubres_, written upon the death of his mistress, the actress María Ignacia Ibáñez, are plainly inspired by Young's _Night Thoughts_; his _Cartas Marruecas_ derive from the _Lettres Persanes_; his tragedy, _Don Sancho García_, an attempt to put in practice the canons of the French drama, transplants to Spain the rhymed couplets of the Parisian stage. The best example of Cadalso's cultivated talent is his poem entitled _Eruditos á la Violeta_, wherein he satirises pretentious scholarship with a light, firm touch. In curious contrast with Cadalso's _Don Sancho García_ is the _Raquel_ (1778) of his friend VICENTE ANTONIO GARCÍA DE LA HUERTA Y MUÑOZ (1734-87), whose troubles would seem to have affected his brain. Though Huerta brands Corneille and Racine as a pair of lunatics, he is a strait observer of the sacred "unities": in all other respects—in theme, monarchical sentiment, sonority of versification—_Raquel_ is a return upon the ancient classic models. Its disfavour among foreign critics is inexplicable, for no contemporary drama equals it in national savour. Huerta's good intention exceeds his performance in the _Theatro Hespañol_, a collection (in seventeen volumes) of national plays, arranged without much taste or knowledge.