Breton has been elected a member of the Royal Spanish Academy, and certainly one so highly gifted as he is in his department, is well deserving of every literary honour. The times are gone by when a writer of comedies could be all in all with the public as their favourite author; but probably there is no other existing in Spain who enjoys so much popular regard. As such, notwithstanding the inferior merit of his lyrical and miscellaneous poetry, excepting his satirical writings, it would have been a blameworthy omission to have left his name out of the list of the modern poets of Spain. It was, however, for this reason more advisable to make the selections from those satirical writings; though independently of this consideration, it would have been also desirable, in a work attempting to give a general view of modern Spanish poetry, that so essential and popular a branch of it should not be left unnoticed. For the poems under this head, Breton has only given the general term “Satirical Letrillias,” so that with those translated his numbering only could be adopted for reference. The Letrillia, it may be proper to observe, is what our musical writers call Motetts or small pieces, having generally some well-known proverbial saying for the close of each verse. MANUEL BRETON DE LOS HERREROS. SATIRICAL LETRILLIAS.--III. Such is, dear girl, my tenderness, Naught can its equal be! If thou a dowry didst possess The charms to rival of thy face, I would marry thee. Thou wert my bliss, my star, my all! So kind and fair to see; And me thy consort to instal, At once for witness Heaven I call, I would marry thee. Thou dost adore me? yes, and I, Thy love so raptures me, If thou wouldst not so anxious try To know my pay, and what I buy, I would marry thee. If thou wert not so always coy, Ne’er listening to my plea, But when I, fool! my cash employ To bring thee sweets, or some fine toy, I would marry thee. If thou must not instructions wait, As may mamma agree, To write or speak to me, or state When thou wilt meet me at the gate, I would marry thee. If ’twere not when to dine, the most Thy meagre soup bouillie Thou givest, as many airs thou show’st, As Roderic at the hanging-post, I would marry thee. If for my punishment instead Of ease and quiet, we Might not three hungry brothers dread, And mother too, to keep when wed, I would marry thee. If ’twere not when these plagues combine With thy tears flowing free, The virtues of a heavenly sign I see must solace me, not thine, I would marry thee. Go, get another in thy chain, And Heaven for you decree A thousand joys, for me ’tis vain; I know thee cheat, and tell thee plain, I will not marry thee. SATIRICAL LETRILLIAS.--IV.