s, lacy Moorish and
stained-glass windows, was at ease only in the field of tradition. He
felt at home in a complete civilization, like that of the Middle Ages,
and his artisticopolitical ideas and his fear of the ignorant crowd
made him regard with marked predilection all that was aristocratic and
historic, without however refusing, in his quick intelligence, to
recognize the wonderful character of the epoch in which he lived.
Indolent, moreover, in small things,--and for him political parties
were small things,--he was always to be found in the one in which were
most of his friends, and in which they talked most of pictures,
poetry, cathedrals, kings, and nobles. Incapable of hatred, he never
placed his remarkable talent as a writer at the service of political
animosities, however certain might have been his gains."[1]

[Footnote 1: Ramon Rodriguez Correa, _Prologo_, in _Obras de
Becquer_, vol. I, xvi.]

Early in his life in Madrid, Gustavo came under the influence of a
charming young woman, Julia Espin y Guillen.[1] Her father was
director of the orchestra in the Teatro Real, and his home was a
rendezvous of young musicians, artists, and _litterateurs_. There
Gustavo, with Correa, Manuel del Palacio, Augusto Ferran, and other
friends, used to gather for musical and literary evenings, and there
Gustavo used to read his verses. These he would bring written on odd
scraps of paper, and often upon calling cards, in his usual careless
fashion.

[Footnote 1: She later married Don Benigno Quiroga Ballesteros, an
illustrious engineer, congressman, minister of state, and man of
public life, who is still living. She died in January, 1907.]

His friends were not slow in discovering that the tall, dark, and
beautiful Julia was the object of his adoration, and they advised him
to declare his love openly. But his timid and retiring nature imposed
silence upon his lips, and he never spoke a word of love to her. It
cannot be said, moreover, that the impression created upon the young
lady by the brilliant youth was such as to inspire a return of his
mute devotion. Becquer was negligent in his dress and indifferent to
his personal appearance, and when Julia's friends upbraided her for
her hardness of heart she would reply with some such curt and cruel
epigram as this: "Perhaps he would move my heart more if he affected
my stomach less."[1]

[Footnote 1: Facts learned from conversation with Don Manuel del
Palacio, s