and more
happily expressive. If I were to pick out my first preference, I should
take your fragment of the 'Veneno y Triaca', at the end; but I think the
whole volume is more fluent, pleasing, and attractive than even its
predecessors".

From the first of English religious painters.

"I cannot resist the impulse I have of offering you my most grateful
thanks for the greatest intellectual treat I have ever experienced in my
life, and which you have afforded me in the magnificent translations of
the divine Calderon; for, surely, of all the poets the world ever saw,
he alone is worthy of standing beside the author of the Book of Job and
of the Psalms, and entrusted, like them, with the noble mission of
commending to the hearts of others all that belongs to the beautiful and
true, ever directing the thoughtful reader through the love of the
beautiful veil, to the great Author of all perfection.

"I cannot conceive a nation can receive a greater boon than being helped
to a love of such works as the religious dramas of this Prince of Poets.
I have for years felt this, and as your translations appeared, have read
them with the greatest possible interest. I knew not of the publication
of the last, and it was to an accidental, yet, with me, habitual
outburst of praise of Calderon, as the antidote and cure for the
trifling literature of the day, that my friend (the) D---- made me aware
of its being out".

[The work especially referred to in the latter part of this interesting
letter is the following: "Mysteries of Corpus Christi (Autos
Sacramentales), from the Spanish of Calderon, by Denis Florence
Mac-Carthy". Duffy, Dublin and London, 1867.]

Extracts from American and Canadian Journals.

From an eloquent article in the "Boston Courier", March 18, 1862,
written by George Stillman Hillard, Esq., the author of "Six Months in
Italy"--a delightful book, worthy of the beautiful country it so
beautifully describes.

"Calderon is one of the three greatest names in Spanish literature, Lope
de Vega and Cervantes being the other two. He is also a great name in
the universal realm of letters, though out of Spain he is little more
than a great name, except in Germany, that land so hospitable to famous
wits, and where, to readers and critics of a mystical and transcendental
turn, his peculiar genius strongly commended him. To form a notion of
what manner of man Calderon was, we must imagine a writer hardly
inferior to