Quevedo’s evil star once more induced him to visit Madrid, where in 1641, he was arrested at midnight in the house of a friend with whom he resided. The charge preferred against him, was that of being a libeller, who spared neither the government nor public morals; he was thrown into a small and unwholesome prison, and treated with the most rigid severity, not even experiencing the humanity usually extended to the vilest criminals. In the meanwhile his property was sequestrated, and though not convicted of any crime, he was compelled to subsist on charity. He was again seized with a severe fit of illness. His body broke out in ulcers, in consequence of the insalubrity of his prison, but he was even then denied the aid of a surgeon. In this situation Quevedo appealed for justice to the Duke of Olivares, the all-powerful prime minister of Spain, in a letter which has become celebrated. His case was now, for the first time, strictly investigated; and it was ascertained that he had merely been supposed to be the author of a libel, which was subsequently discovered to have been written in a monastery. Quevedo once more regained his freedom, but with the loss of a considerable portion of his fortune, of which indeed he retained so scanty a remnant, that he was unable to continue long enough in Madrid to solicit the indemnification which was so justly due to him, and without which he could not subsist with respectability. A prey to sickness, and deprived of the hope of ever obtaining justice, he retired to his country seat, and there died in the year 1645. A man who, like Quevedo, reaped the bitterest fruits from political justice, cannot be very heavily reproached for seizing in his satires every opportunity of more severely chastising and ridiculing the ministers of that justice, than any other enemies of truth and equity. But Quevedo was not a mere satirist. He may, without hesitation, be pronounced the most ingenious of all Spanish writers, next to Cervantes; and his mind was, moreover, endowed with a degree of practical judgment, which is seldom found combined with that versatility for which he was distinguished. Could Quevedo have ruled the taste and genius of his nation and his age in the same degree in which that taste and genius influenced him, his versatility, joined to his talent for composing verses with no less rapidity than Lope de Vega, might have rendered him, if not a poet of the first rank in the loftier region of art, at least a classic writer of almost unrivalled merit. But this scholar and man of the world was too early wedded to conventional forms of every kind. It may indeed be said that he was steeped in all the colours of his age. A true feeling of the independence of genius never animated him, lofty as his spirit in other respects was. His taste imbibed some portion of all the conflicting tastes which at that period existed in Spain. His style never acquired originality, and his mind was only half cultivated.