o infinite hard work, can crystallize on the printed page. His subjects
are often much the same as those of de Maupassant. His sympathy for what
prigs call "low life"; his understanding of the heart of the common
people; his appreciation of the drama and pathos, the humor and tragedy
of ordinary, everyday life; his frank handling of the really vital
things--which we western-hemisphere hypocrites call improprieties and
turn up our noses at, the while we secretly pry into them--all mark him
as kin with the great French master. Kin, not imitator, Zamacois is
Zamacois, no one else. His way of seeing, of expressing, is all his; and
even the manner in which he handles the Castillian, constructing his own
grammatical forms and words to suit himself, mark him a pioneer. He is a
hard man to translate. Dictionaries are too narrow for the limits of his
vocabulary. Many of his words baffle folk who speak Spanish as a
birthright. He is a _jeune_ of the _jeunes_. A creative, not an
imitative force. Power, thought, vitality, constructive ideals: these
sketch the man's outlines. He comes of a distinguished family. The great
Spanish painter, of his same name, is a close relative.

His personality is charming. My acquaintance with him forms one of the
pleasantest chapters in a life of literary ups and downs. Ruddy,
vigorous, with short hair getting a bit dusty; with a contagious laugh
and a frequent smile; with a kind of gay worldliness that fascinates; a
nonchalant, tolerant philosophy; a dry humor; a good touch at the piano;
an excellent singing voice for the performance of _peteneras_ and
folk-songs without number; a splendid platform-presence as a lecturer on
Spanish literature and customs, Zamacois is an all-round man of intense
vitality, deep originality and human breadth. He is a wise man, widely
traveled, versed in much strange lore; and yet he has kept simplicity,
courtesy, humanity. Spain is decadent? Not while it can produce men,
thinkers, writers like this man--like this member of the new school that
calls itself, because it realizes its own historic mission, _el
resurgimiento_.

"Nothing binds nations together so securely," he said to me one day,
"and nothing so profoundly vitalizes them, as literature and art.
Commercial rivalries lead to war. But artistic and literary matters are
free and universal. Beauty cannot be appreciated, alone. It must be
shared, to be enjoyed. My ambition--or one of my ambitions--is to bring
the