As it was, he had to fly from Madrid a second time with the intruders, and henceforth there was nothing for him in life but privations to endure. Some houses which he had bought had been seized, and one of them sold. Another, which was restored to him, had been much injured, and his books and property destroyed. His benefices were denied him; a merchant, with whom he had entrusted his money, became bankrupt; and a dependent, in whom he had confided, by his defalcation brought a further heavy loss on his means. He had at first retired to France, but having been excepted from the list of the proscribed by Ferdinand VII., he returned to Spain, and for a length of time resided at Barcelona. But the Inquisition was attempting to rise again into power, and Moratin, naturally of a timid disposition, felt himself marked out for a victim. He could not submit to live subject to be watched and kept in constant alarm; and even when this office was finally put down, he felt the frequent recurrence of public commotions more agitating than he could endure. He therefore determined again to retire to France, first to Bayonne, in 1823, and afterwards to Bordeaux, to live with a friend, named Sil vela, who had a seminary at that place, and in whose society he felt sure of enjoying domestic happiness.
Through his whole life, Moratin seems to have required the aid of friends on whom to rely for daily needs and attentions; and it was fortunate for him, in his advanced age and under the pressure of infirmities, to possess such a resting-place as in Silvela's establishment. Shortly after this friend removed to Paris, where also Moratin followed him, and there he died, the 21st June, 1828. He was buried in the cemetery of Perc la Chaise, in one of the lines to the right of the chapel, between the remains of Moliere and Lafontaine, where a simple monument, with a cinerary urn, marks his grave.
"There," says his biographer,[1] "in a foreign land, lies a cele-
- ↑ In the sketch prefixed to the edition by Rivadeneyra, from which the two poems following are taken, at pages 581 and 582. The one to Jovellanos has been justly praised by Mr. Ticknor as one of his best, and from it we may in preference extract the commencement, as an exemplification of his style.
Si, la pura amistad, que en dulce nudo
Nuestras almas uniò, durable existe
Jovino ilustre, y ni la ausencia larga
Ni la distancia, ni interpuestos montes
Y proceloso mar que suena roco,
De mi memoria apartaràn tu idea.Duro silencio à mi cariño impuso
El son de Marte, que suspende ahora
La paz, la dulce paz. Sè que en obscura
Deliciosa quietud, contento vives,
Siempre animado de incansable celo
Por el pùblico bien; de las virtudes
Y del talento protector y amigo.
Estos que formo de primor desnudos,
No castigados de tu docta lima,
Fàciles versos, la verdad te anuncien
De mi constante fe; y el cielo en tanto
Vuèlvame presto la ocasion de verte
Y renovar en familiar discurso
Cuanto à mi vista presentò del orbe
La varia escena. De mi patria orilla
A las que el Sena turbulento baña,
Teñido en sangre, del audaz Britano
Dueño del mar, al aterido Belga,
Del Rin profundo à las nevades cumbres
Del Apenino, y la que en humo ardiente
Cubre y ceniza à Nàpoles canora,
Pueblos, naciones, visitè distintas
Util sciencia adquirì, que nunca enseña
Docta leccion en retirada estancia,
Que alli no ves la diferencia suma
Que el clima, el culto, la opinion, las artes,
Las leyes causan. Hallaràsla solo
Si al hombre estudias en el hombre mismo.
