supernatural passion, and ideal delicacy, resisting the most skilfully-combined plots, and the most complicated intrigues. In cases of this description, the poet seems to have undertaken the task of representing to the spectators a finished model of human perfection, heaping on the head of his prince or princess all the good qualities on which he can lay his hand, and making them more careful of their purity than the white ermine, who prefers death to a single spot upon its snow-like fur. A profound sentiment of catholicism and feudal customs pervades the whole Spanish theatre, which is truly national, both in matter and form. The division of the pieces into three days adopted by the Spanish authors, is certainly the most reasonable and most logical. Every well-constructed dramatic piece naturally consists of the exposition, the complicated consequences arising therefrom, and the unravelling of the same. This is an arrangement we should do well to adopt, in place of the ancient form in five acts, two of which are often useless, the second and the fourth. It must not, however, be supposed that the old Spanish pieces were exclusively sublime. The grotesque, that indispensable element of mediæval art, is often introduced under the form of the _gracioso_, or _bobo_ (simpleton), who enlivens the serious portion of the action by pleasantries and jokes more or less broad, producing, in contrast to the hero, the same effect as the misshapen dwarfs playing, in their many-coloured doublets, with greyhounds bigger than themselves, as we see them represented by the side of kings and princes, in the old pictures of public galleries. Moratin, the author of the "Si de las Niñas" and "El Café," whose tombs may be seen in Père la Chaise at Paris, was the last reflection of dramatic art in Spain, just as the old painter Goya, who died at Bordeaux, in 1828, was the last whom we could look on as a descendant of the great Velasquez.