omething
lastingly valuable to say upon one or more of these matters; but no one
would think of turning to Spanish books for the best that has been
thought and said upon any of them.

With the drama and the novel, however, the case is very different. Here
Spain has had writers universally placed among the great artists of the
world. Calderon and Lope de Vega, with the crowd of lesser dramatists of
the end of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth century (the
period Spaniards call their _siglo de oro_), produced a body of dramatic
literature, which for extent, variety, poetic force, and original
national feeling and conception can be compared only with the Greek and
the English drama. Of their own motion these poets learned all the
essential secrets of the dramatic art. They acquired the faculty of
telling upon the stage any story they chose in such a way that it should
seem a picture of life itself to their audience; and, at the same time,
they managed to fuse with their tales all their accumulated reflection
upon men and things, all the various play of fancy, all the fine gold of
the imagination, and all the humor, gay or grotesque, which the plain
prose of life itself does not contain. Working freely, unawed by classic
models whose perfection they would attain, they were easy in their
motions, frank of conception, and ready to follow their matter wherever
it might lead them. They had no dread of being dull or unpoetical or
undignified; the best of them were constantly all these. But for this
very reason they were large and free and powerful, scornful of trivial
difficulties and obstacles, and able to attain success where all the
chances were against them. The thought and feeling, the hopes and
aspirations, the delusions and absurdities of Spain in the period of her
greatest power and splendor are all mirrored in their verse. Like the
Elizabethan dramatists, furthermore, they exacted tribute from all other
literatures and spent it as they would. And though their work has seldom
the rare distinction of ultimate perfection of form (indeed, in this
respect falls below the best Elizabethan standard), no one can read it
without perceiving that he is engaged with the rich and vital utterance
of artists who are masters of their craft.

Hardly less remarkable than the Spanish drama is the Spanish novel.
Obviously, much the same qualities are demanded for success in the one
form as in the other; and from the earliest